Once upon a time there was a young lady in the village, renowned for her golden hair. Since she was a child, boys had made promises of marriage, once she came of age. But the young lady's heart yearned only for adventure. She had never been outside the village, for her mother sheltered her. The young lady's father had died when she was a child and her mother was afraid of losing another loved one, her only child.
The people of the village feared the dragon, Smaug, that dwelt within the nearby mountain. It was well known that Smaug loved gold. The villagers had been poor for generations not due to a lack of industriousness, but because they shunned wealth, lest the dragon take notice of them and lay siege to their village.
It was rumoured that, once a year, Smaug would transform into his human form, in search of a bride. But he was not interested in love, the people said. Greedy and possessive, the dragon only wished to own the most beautiful woman in Middle Earth. So far, the people had been successful at protecting their women. But with every year of success grew a mounting fear that next year, Smaug would only grow more cunning.
There was no one more fearful than the young lady's mother. She knew how beautiful her daughter was, and so did the others in the village. When the mother had revealed that, on her daughter's 13th birthday, she was contemplating whether or not to lock her daughter in her room, all the villagers urged her to do so.
"It is for the benefit of us all," the villagers said. And so, for the common good, the mother pushed aside her ethical reservations and confined her daughter to her bedroom, with modifications: the window had been boarded up and a slot had been made in the door for food and a chamberpot to be passed through.
"Please forgive me, Aurora, this is for your own good," the mother said from the other side of the door. Her daughter, a strange girl from birth, did not scream as expected. She simply glared at her mother through the slot in the door. Then the mother retreated to the other side of the house so her daughter wouldn't hear her cry. She told herself she was keeping her daughter and her village safe, but the mother never forgave herself. Her guilt at stealing her daughter's freedom for the sake of safety would haunt her until Aurora's 18th birthday.
As a result of being sheltered all her life, Aurora was woefully lacking in worldliness. She had no idea how terrifying and magnificent Middle Earth was. Indeed, she had not set a foot outside her own bedroom in five years. The villagers' and her mother's extremism had a peculiar effect on her: since Aurora was taught to fear everything, she ended up fearing nothing.
Aurora's 18th birthday fell on the last day of Harvesting, a day that the people of her village celebrated with a large feast in the town square, complete with singing, dancing, and drink. Although she had never attended, she could always hear the music from her room. Aurora had never tasted even a drop of alcohol and her bedroom was too small for any significant dancing - but she loved to sing. It was how she entertained herself and kept up her morale. Aurora decided she would sneak out of her bedroom and join in the celebration.
For five years, she had been planning her escape. When she was 13 she had stolen a knife and had been methodically sawing down the three wooden planks covering her window. The windows had been boarded up to prevent her body from passing through but still allowed her to see the sun and moon. She knew that if she could cut the sides of the planks, she could snap the planks and fit through the window. Even at 13 she knew it was important to delay the night of her escape until her mother had dropped her guard. For the first year of confinement, her mother had checked on her every 15 minutes. But, slowly, when her mother had deemed she wouldn't try to escape, her mother only checked on her three times a day when she delivered meals. Plenty of time to sing and saw in privacy.
Aurora waited until her mother was asleep. Then, quietly, she snapped the wooden planks, hung from the windowsill, and dropped from the second storey down to the ground outside her house. Her legs burned from the impact, but she barely felt it. The night was beautiful.
It was a new moon that night but the villagers carried candles and torches blazed along the well-travelled main path to the town square. Aurora decided to take a side route through the forest in order to avoid being seen by the villagers who would surely recognize her gleaming, long hair. She followed the sound of merry music, closing her eyes along the way and inhaling the scent of lamb cooking on a bonfire, cedar, and fresh water running in the nearby river.
There was a rustle in a bush three feet to her right. Aurora looked over. A rabbit hopped out, sniffed the air, and scurried away. Aurora's heart felt like it would burst. Before she had been confined, she loved riding and caring for horses. To see an animal, free in the forest, was delightful.
Smaug had learned long ago that the glimpses of gold he saw in the village during the day of Harvesting were only wheat. He had no taste for plants. The reason he did not adopt his human form more often than once a year was because his lust for gold, as a dragon, would be overcome by a more powerful hunger for flesh. He sat on top of his mountain now, silent and motionless in the dark. There was a small shimmer of gold in the forest. Surely this would not be wheat?
Smaug felt his lip curl. The foolish villagers had been safe from him for many decades not because they had been successful at outsmarting him or scaring him off, but simply because their pathetic little village harboured no young women who caught his eye.
His great nostrils flared and he caught the scent of fresh water, cedar... and a lamb, waiting to be devoured.
Where had this one come from? He needed to know more about this mysterious lady who had arisen, perfectly ripe, seemingly out of nowhere.
This would be the night he transformed into a man. But tonight would be different. Tonight, he would take the creature with golden hair back to his mountain and eat her. There was nothing she or her silly village could do to stop him.
It would be faster to fly the short distance to the village but he couldn't draw attention lest the woman run away. He needed to catch her with her guard down. He retrieved the rich, silk clothing off a corpse that had once been a prince that now decomposed in his lair. He flew down to the base of the mountain and donned the clothing. The best way to hide was out in the open. Humans were so easily beguiled by appearances, he would have no trouble charming them with these beautiful clothes and a confident stride.
As soon as the villagers saw the beautiful man walking in the village, they were sent into a silent panic. They knew the lore of a dragon coming into the village once a year to steal an unfortunate young lady, but surely the dragon could not transform itself into such a vision of loveliness? They imagined a human version of Smaug would look terrifying. But this man, with curly hair that shone in the moonlight and decadent clothing, strolled into the village like a prince. And had the villagers not heard news that the Lord of the neighbouring town was paying a visit that very evening? The villagers wanted to keep themselves safe but they also didn't want to risk offending a potentially prestigious guest.
One of the braver men of the village approached the beautiful man and asked for his identity. Smaug gave the name of the Lord from the neighbouring town, along with a look of disapproval at the man for questioning his identity. Some of the villagers watching the interaction worriedly. Surely they had offended their honoured guest.
But the braver man was not fully convinced. He wanted to trust his fellow villagers but he also trusted his intuition. So he took the regally dressed man under his arm and led him to the town square.
The bonfire blazed and the music rang joyfully through the crisp night air. Aurora, at the edge of the forest, watched the dancing and feasting, quietly singing along. She saw Hans, a man in the village renowned for his bravery, with a strange new man who was the most beautiful being Aurora had ever seen. His clothes were finer and his face was fairer than she had ever dreamed of. She wanted to leap from the forest and introduce herself. But she held herself back. She liked to think before acting and she decided to watch how this stranger interacted with the villagers first. She, like everyone else in the village, had heard stories of the terrible dragon who turned into a human once a year. But unlike them, whatever fear she felt at this prospect transformed into excitement and curiosity. She had never seen a dragon devour a horse in one gulp nor set a village ablaze in one breath. To her, these were fairy tales only meant to scare her into staying imprisoned in her room and, ultimately, this village forever.
Besides, if the beautiful man were a dragon in disguise, why were Hans and the rest of the village welcoming him? Hans gestured to the group of dancers illuminated by the bonfire and surrounding torches, as if asking the guest if he wanted to dance with anyone.
In actuality, Hans was testing the stranger. If he was secretly here to steal innocent women, he would show his true colors soon enough. Hans waited for the stranger's eyes to alight upon the sight of the women.
Smaug laughed internally at this foolish man but let no smile cross his face. He cast a bored glance in the general direction of the dancers, some of them young but unnoteable women.
Hans pushed him further. Surely a Lord would honour them by dancing with at least one lucky maiden? Or would His Lordship prefer to dine first?
Smaug conceded. He would have a serving of wine.
Aurora watched as Hans arose from his seat and walked away. She had to get to the man before any other women did, lest she lose her chance. But the man didn't look like he wanted to dance with anyone. What if he rejected her? And in front of everyone too. Her cheeks flushed, anticipating the embarrassment. If he refused to speak to her, she would turn around and go back home before her mother realized she was missing and before the other villagers had a chance to laugh at her too heartily.
His eyes caught hers at once.
It was the girl with golden hair. Smaug wanted to pounce on her that instant. But she was delivering herself right to him. He couldn't ruin the allure he had over her by arousing anyone's suspicions.
Hans turned around with two goblets of wine and saw everyone in the town square staring at the strange man and the most gorgeous young lady any of them had ever seen. The girl who had been locked away by her mother. Hans beckoned to a friend and instructed him to warn the girl's mother that she had escaped. As soon as his friend walked away in the direction of the mother's house, Hans regretted his decision. What if the mother had given Aurora permission to leave? Still, even if she had her mother's permission, she was still putting her and the village at risk by being out. Especially if the Lord was not who he said he was.
Hans reached the stranger before Aurora could. He held out a goblet for his guest and greeted Aurora as she approached.
"Does your mother know where you are?" Hans asked.
Aurora had distant memories of her father and Hans was sounding annoyingly paternal. "Of course," she replied coolly. She glanced over at the strange man. The fire's reflection danced in his eyes as he sipped his wine.
Smaug knew the girl was lying but the foolish man looked like he believed her. Smaug's desire intensified. Not only was she beautiful, she was naughty, too. Oh, he would have fun devouring this one.
The foolish man turned to him once again. "My Lord, perhaps you would care to honour Aurora with a dance?" Hans knew no man could resist the most gorgeous girl in the village. The stranger would be revealed as a monster in a matter of seconds.
Aurora's heart leapt into her mouth. Not only did Hans trust this man, but he was a Lord as well? Now she knew for certain there was nothing to fear. She imagined sticking her tongue out at her mother and telling her, see? If I hadn't escaped I would've never met a Lord.
But the stranger shrugged his shoulders and said he ought to be leaving soon.
Smaug laughed internally again as he watched Hans's jaw drop. Stupid human, did he really think he could outsmart the great Smaug?
Aurora's heart sank into the cobblestones below their feet. She had been rejected, just as she knew she would. She turned to the roast lamb but found her appetite had died. "I'll get a drink," she said, as an excuse to leave.
"Wait," Smaug said. His tall, slender body sat relaxed in his chair, his crossed legs off to one side.
Aurora wanted to drown the image of his lithe, hard body in a goblet of strong wine, but she stopped and looked at him.
"How many gentlemen have danced with you?" Smaug asked.
She considered lying to make herself look more popular, but felt exposed beneath his gaze. "None," she responded truthfully.
He rose from his chair and handed his half empty goblet to Hans. Then he held out his hand to the girl. He could spare one short dance, he told her. It was almost midnight and his carriage to transport him back to town would arrive soon.
Hans took a seat, praying his friend would return with the girl's mother quickly.
Aurora, feeling like she was in a dream, placed her small hand in the stranger's larger, stronger one. His gloves were made of smooth calfskin. He led her dangerously close to the bonfire to dance alongside the other couples. His breath was warm and smelled like red wine. As he held her waist firmly with one hand, Aurora shuddered with pleasure. She hadn't been touched in five years.
But it was unfashionable for couples dancing in public to get too close. His hand was on her for only a moment before he released her again to keep step with the other dancers. Aurora did her best to copy what the other dancers were doing. Everyone was staring at her, probably because of how badly she was dancing. Or perhaps because of how stunning her dance partner was.
Someone offered Hans a leg of lamb, but he was too anxious to eat. The stranger was staring at Aurora like he wanted to devour her. But Aurora looked happier than he'd ever seen a woman be. And her smile was positively radiant. A part of him that missed the exuberance of his own youth didn't want to spoil the girl's delight.
Aurora swung into her partner's grasp once again. "What is your name?" she asked, eyes glowing.
"Aurora!"
She whipped around at the sound of her mother's voice. That busybody Earl was beside her. He looked worried and she looked scared. Aurora wilted. She had barely had a taste of freedom and now it was over.
Hans, her mother, and the busybody were closing in on her while the entire village watched. The stranger released his grip on her. She wanted to say goodbye but if she opened her mouth she knew she'd start crying.
"My name," the stranger said. He took a deep breath in and boomed, "is Smaug."
The villagers watched as he swept Aurora into his arms, princess style. Hans let out a battle cry and whipped out his pistol. He hurried to load a bullet.
In a matter of seconds, the strange man transformed into a massive dragon and flew into the air, leaving his fine clothes in shreds on the ground. Aurora barely had a chance to grasp his shoulders before rough scales were chaffing her skin and catching on her dress. She found herself clinging to the back of the dragon's hard, massive head. The jagged horns pointing backwards out of his head threatened to poke her eyes out.
Hans fired his bullet. Aurora, too stunned to scream along with the rest of the people, watched what looked like a seed bounce off the hard scales of the dragon's belly.
And then they were soaring. Smaug breathed a torrent of fire outside the village so the people had to focus on putting out the fire rather than pursuing him.
The wind threatened to push Aurora off. She gripped two of the horns and squeezed her legs together over the back of his neck even though the dragon's scales were rubbing her skin raw. They were miles above the ground. If she let go or the dragon bucked her off, she would fall to her death.
The last thing Aurora heard was her mother's cries. In the end, her sheltering had been all for naught. The mother watched helplessly as her only child was carried away from her.
Aurora had never known anyone who had been eaten by a dragon, nor had she heard of anyone riding on the back of one. She felt the heat of fire in the back of its throat, directly between her legs. Away from the village now, the night was pure black. It seemed like even the stars were hiding in fright from the awesome dragon. As they approached the mountain, the dragon slowed its speed and she raised her head to the wind, her long golden hair fluttering behind her.
Every seed of fear planted within her bloomed at once. A laugh bubbled out of her until tears streamed across her wind-burned face. I'm flying, she wanted to scream, but fainted.
Once Smaug had carried her deep into his lair, he set her limp body on top of a pile of gold. Her dress revealed her smooth legs and her hair cascaded down her shoulders and breasts. He watched her for hours, waiting for her to wake up. There would be no delight in devouring her unconscious body. He wanted her awake so he could taste the fear in her blood and she could hear her bones snap between his teeth.
Aurora woke. She felt the hard gold coins beneath her. A golden candlestick poked into her backside. The lair, massive enough to fit fourteen of her villages within its walls, gleamed so brightly with treasure she wanted to shield her eyes.
She heard a low growl mixed with a sigh. Before her was the jagged mouth of Smaug, bathing her in hot breath that smelled faintly of blood. She sat up, speechless. It was too late to scream.
"Little lamb." Smaug's voice reverberated and filled the entire lair. "Alone with the monster." His long, pointed tongue slithered out and licked the bottom of her bare foot. She had lost her shoes to the sky. Aurora couldn't blink, couldn't tear her eyes away from his teeth, each one the size of her head. She looked down at her feet and realized her bladder was relieving itself all down her dress. Horrified, she tried to stop, but it was too late. She watched helplessly as her bladder emptied. Her face burned with embarrassment and she had to touch her cheeks to check that Smaug hadn't engulfed her head in flames. She had never lost control of her body before and she never wanted to feel that way again. But part of her was guilty to admit she felt freer, lighter now.
Smaug's tongue slithered between her ankles. He blew hot breath between her legs, up her dress, and she shuddered as the damp skin of her thighs prickled against the heat. She wanted to rip off her damp dress, but she also didn't want Smaug seeing any more of her body. She tried to keep her ankles together but his tongue was too strong. It slithered up to her knees. It was so long, most of it was still in his mouth. He could probably fit twelve of her between his jaws.
She tried desperately to think of a way to escape before he killed her. He knew he was just playing with his food before he ate.
"Do you know how many of your kind have died here?" Smaug asked. Her legs felt cold without his tongue on them. She had to grip a strand of beads beside her to stop her hands from shaking.
She shook her head no. She couldn't watch both his eyes at once, so she focused on his teeth even though it made her dizzy.
"None," he said.
Her eyes widened in confusion. "You - you haven't killed any humans?"
Smaug laughed, a deep, seductive growl. "Little lamb, I have destroyed thousands of them. But none like you. You are the first of your kind."
She closed her legs and turned them away from him. She needed to buy time, keep him talking. "It's an honour to finally meet you. I have heard legends of your greatness but you are even more magnificent up close."
His long skull slithered sideways until he stared at her with one large, yellow eye. "Lamb, go on."
Was her trick working? She tried to glance around for an exit without being too obvious. "Your teeth are terrifying and your - your eyes are godlike."
"I've been watching you." His gaze trailed down the length of her hair and rested on her breasts. His rough scales had torn her bodice and more of her cleavage was revealed than the dress had meant to. There was already a scratch marring her perfect skin. He inhaled and smelled her blood, urine, and hair. He exhaled another sigh of pleasure and blew more hot air over her, rustling her dress.
She felt his breath against her damp slip, the only thing she wore beneath her dress. She sat up. Her legs were shaking and she couldn't stand yet. Could she lull him to sleep and then escape? "Have you been listening, too?"
He eyed her with amusement. "Should I have been?"
"I've been practicing my singing, in case I met a creature worthy of hearing it. No one has heard me sing before."
"A night of firsts." Smaug tucked his wings against his body. Aurora could see his tail batting lightly against a pile of gold. She took his comment to be consent for her to sing. She began to sing a folksong her father had taught her the night before he left for the war.
"No," Smaug interrupted. "Sing about me, lamb."
She was disappointed he didn't like the song she carried with her in her heart, but she told herself not to take it personally. She drew in a breath. His tongue slithered out and licked the bottom of her other foot. She tried to create lyrics at the same time she tried not to shudder.
She changed her tune to a slow, lilting one to buy time between words. "His scales are like stars, his eyes are like moons, a thousand sons have died in his room. When their hearts have made their last quake, he knows their souls are his to take. And as the crimson coats the floor, their dying breaths say Smaug is-"
His tongue pushed her legs apart. His teeth were dangerously close to her feet. Breathless, she collapsed against the pile of coins beneath her. "Smaug is-" she tried to sing, but his massive, strong tongue pushed her dress up to her thighs. Her hands instinctively moved to cover her thighs but the absence of damp fabric on her legs felt freeing.
She looked down. Her entire center was completely bared to him. No one but her had ever seen down there. Her thigh muscles clenched around his slippery tongue. "Smaug-" her voice rose an octave. She tried to straighten her arms and raise herself up.
His hot tongue licked her folds. It felt pleasurable and terrifying. She had never touched herself, never been touched at her core. The feeling of helplessness was too intense.
She bolted up and staggered to her feet. She ran only a few pathetic feet before Smaug brought his wings down and imprisoned her within them. They blocked out the light of the torches on the walls and pillars. The only light she could see now were his twin glowing eyes. Her knees shook in the dark.
"Finish," he said, his voice low but powerful enough to stop her heart.
She backed up until her back was against the cold scales of his wing. His claws clicked and flexed above her. Her muscles gave up on her and she slid down to the floor, her dress catching on his scales and exposing her legs as she sunk. She heard her dress tear but couldn't rip her gaze away from the glowing orbs, the pupils like razors.
Smaug... is... great. She didn't know if she thought or sang the words. She felt like she was running out of air, trapped between his wings and his mouth.
"There is nowhere for you to go, lamb. You are here with me for the rest of your life." He laughed again.
Aurora felt tears stream her face. She had lost control of yet another fluid-producing part of her body. "Please don't kill me." She hated herself for sounding so pathetic. Even though it was too dark to see, she covered her cleavage with her hands.
He didn't answer her. She cried more tears, this time from frustration.
He swept his wings away. She fell back against the floor, squeezing her eyes shut against the sudden light. When she opened them, she saw his incredible wingspan.
Excitement flushed her. Was he... showing off for her?
She adjusted her dress around her legs in a sad attempt at modesty. The garment was nearly shredded now. She spread her toes and felt his gooey saliva drying between them.
"Afraid of death? Silly girl. There are worse fates." His tail, long enough to take a short lifetime to run from base to end, swung in an arc behind him. "You smell virginal."
She felt like her brain was cleaving in two. He wanted to kill her because she was a virgin? "Is that why you wanted me?"
"I want you, lamb, because you gleam like treasure. I saw your hair from my mountain. I want to know if your blood will taste as lovely as it smells."
She tried to drag herself away, but he swept a wing forward and sank a claw into her thigh, piercing her skin and pinning her down. She stifled a scream. She couldn't let him see her lose control of her body a third time. She glanced down but tore her gaze away from the blood seeping from her thigh. She tried to get a firm grip on the floor but, every time she grabbed, she only pulled another handful of coins toward her.
He dragged her thigh away from her body, parting her legs further. She tried to shut her eyes - she felt ashamed for being so weak in front of him, ashamed that the first person to see between her thighs wasn't a person but an evil dragon - but felt helpless under his gaze and could only stare back. She reached an arm out and tried to push his wing away from her. She felt his scales scratch her soft palms but she kept pushing.
The side of his tongue pressed against her bare leg, like the weight of a wet body against her. She dug her nails into his wing, although he was impenetrable. He growled and the tip of his tongue vibrated as it slithered up her thigh to her center. She felt a gush of fluid between her thighs and didn't know if it was coming from her bladder or somewhere else. Whatever it was, he licked it up, the tip of his tongue vibrating against her folds.
She shuddered and gasped, chest heaving. She felt her breast tear free, her nipple immediately hardening against his hot breath. She covered her breast with the hand that wasn't clutching his wing. "Stop, please stop." Her tears burned her face. He buried his claw deeper into her thigh. She bit down on her lip, refusing to scream.
His tongue slid against her folds, her sensitive flesh between them swelling. Every time she tried to pull herself away, his claw dug into her and tore her flesh even more. She felt his hot saliva slide between her folds, soaking the bottom of her slip, sinking between the coins below them. She wondered how much blood lay at the very bottom of the floor.
"Smaug-" She could taste the salt of her tears. He licked her folds until it no longer felt like a monstrous tongue was tasting her, but like she was sitting on a magnificent, fluid throne. To escape the intensity of the feeling, she pulled a handful of hair away from her scalp, realizing too late that she had left her breast exposed in doing so. She pulled her hair harder in frustration.
She couldn't feel his claw in her thigh anymore. She looked down to see if she was about to pass out from pain, but saw that he had removed it. He must be finished with her, she thought.
He drew closer until the sides of his teeth were against the backs of her legs. She tried to push his mouth away with her feet but his scales chaffed her soles. She was sweating under his heat, more fluid gushing from between her thighs. His tongue felt like it lengthened to lick below her center at the same time he continued licking everywhere he previously had.
Her tears streamed in silence. She would die if he heard her whimper. "No," she pleaded.
He stopped, simply holding his tongue against her. She took a sharp breath in. It was over.
With a sting more breathtaking than his claw in her thigh, he pierced her core with the point of his tongue.
She whimpered, shame soaking her under her arms, between her breasts. She tugged her hair so she wouldn't scream. "N- N-" She couldn't speak anymore, only make noises. She cried out in frustration and heard a growl from the back of the dragon's throat. His tongue slid inside her, stretching her until she thought he would tear her apart. She looked down and saw the blood from her thigh mix with the blood he was drawing forth from her center. She slammed her head against the coins and tried to speak again. "S- St-"
She turned her head to the side. Her sweaty cheek stuck to a long staff.
Her eyes flew open. She grasped the staff with both hands, her weakened muscles protesting against the effort. She saw that his eyes were closed. She aimed the end of the staff at Smaug's tongue.
Her movement only increased the swelling of her most sensitive part. She panted, trying to aim even though she was using all her energy to keep from screaming.
His wings spread, as if he were about to take flight. He opened his eyes and saw what she was about to do with the staff. He swung his tail, aiming to knock the staff from her grasp.
Aurora saw his tail coming and pushed down on the staff. His tail connected with her hands before the staff connected with his tongue. He used only a fraction of his power but it was enough to knock the staff from her grip. It rolled away from her and she cried out from behind clenched teeth. Her hands stung from the force of the impact and they dropped to her sides, useless.
She caught a glimpse of his godlike eyes, staring up what remained of her dress and at her bare nipple. She looked pathetic, weak, and soaking wet with both their fluids. She turned her head, burying her mouth in her hair, and screamed.
He drove his tongue deeper into her helpless, tiny body. He tasted her blood, and it was not as he imagined. It was lovelier.