I don't know how long I was out. I didn't immediately register what I woke up that I was, in fact, waking up – I didn't remember that I was supposed to be dead or the terror I felt or how far I must have fallen… no, all I remembered was my splitting headache.
I was still sopping wet, and my body was tingling all over, and despite how cold the cavern had been before—especially considering it was winter and there was several feet of snow outside of the cavern—I felt like my blood was boiling inside of my veins. I hadn't felt anything like it since I was a child and the Fire Fever had come upon me – that alone had only been quelled by my living outside in the wood shed where only an inch of thin wood was between me and the wintery forest.
When I woke up I tried to sit up and when I tried to sit up I felt all of the fluid still in my lungs shift, and I suddenly was overwhelmed with the need to cough it up. The cavern I was in, which was lit only vaguely with small fires licking the walls of the oval-shaped chamber, was filled with the sound of my coughing and gasping and soon – retching.
I hadn't eaten a day or more before coming here so there wasn't anything to come up besides the salty-sweet liquid I had swallowed. I must have coughed up a gallon and thrown up a gallon more before I felt better, and as I pushed myself up to my feet I felt weak and waifish, swaying on my feet like I was fifty yards tall. I was up, though, and though my vision was somewhat blurry I looked around to try and see where I was now.
I could see the cavern well enough because of the fires—how it was so wide and shaped like an oval that it hardly seemed like a natural thing. It seemed man-made, in fact, with walls and floors so smooth and unlike how the rest of the caverns felt. There was a groove, a rim—a moat? Yes, a moat of sorts carved into the walls so that the base of the fires were at my chest-level and some strange liquid smelling almost like kerosene filled the moat, which fed the fires as they danced across the surface of the liquid and licked against the walls, burning them black in great stretching shadows.
I looked up, and I could not see the ceiling. It was dark up there but more than that it was extremely tall, I doubt I could've seen the ceiling even if there was more light.
"Where…" My voice was hoarse from all the coughing. My throat hurt, I winced and swirled my tongue in my mouth to work up some saliva before swallowing that to provide some relief.
I hadn't seen the dragon yet… and I began to wonder if he was even here. What if he had left? What if he migrated like birds do in the winter?
Would I starve to death or die of thirst before I even saw the dragon?
Would I just be a rotting corpse by the time he returned, something for him to dispose of?
I felt a pang of guilt at that – I wanted to apologize for that, and I wasn't sure why. All the dragon ever did was kill. Why should I feel bad about leaving him a corpse to clean?
Clearing my throat, I looked back downward—and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw someone standing there right in front of me!
My eyes widened and I made to step back, though because of my physical state I ended up tripping over my own legs to land hard on my tail-bone. But—it only hurt a little, not as much as it had every other time I'd fallen on my tailbone.
"Wh—What—Who—" Was anyone else supposed to be down here? Was this another sacrifice who had avoided the dragon for so long?
"You shouldn't have gone into the water." A deep, husky voice spoke. I realized the figure was a man, and I confirmed this visually when I blinked the salty tears out of my eyes and squinted to focus my vision.
He was tall, just a little bit taller than I remembered Ulrich being even donned in all his armor. His skin was dark, a deep tan the likes of which I hadn't seen before and his hair, just as dark as mine, reached all the way down to his knees! It was like silk and… oh…
It was the only thing covering him, like Lady Godiva herself.
"Wh—Who are you?" I stammered out, trying to get back up.
But he stopped me. He squat down and put his hands on my shoulders to keep me down, his bright amber eyes leering into mine.
"It makes you parched. The water does. How do you feel?" He asked me.
Confused, I lifted a hand to my head and brushed my bangs out of my eyes to stare at him, I responded in a far-away voice, "P.. Parched…"
"Dizzy?" He asked.
"I-…. Yes?" I responded.
"Hot?" He asked. His grip tightened on my shoulders.
"Y—Yes—Who are you?" I asked again, leaning away from him, "Are you—were you a virgin? How did you manage to hide from him for so long…?"
The strange man laughed, his eyes glittering with amusement in the low light while his lips stretched in a more malicious way over teeth sharper than any man's I'd ever seen. They were sharpened into frightening points, the likes of which were never meant to eat any sort of vegetable.
"Hardly," he responded quietly, and he leaned down on me, his hair draping like a curtain over the both of us as he forced me to lay flat on the stone and he brought a leg over me, sitting on my middle while staring down at me with eyes that, I realized in the closeness between us, seemed almost to be glowing, "do not fret." He assured me, no doubt sensing my panic as my breathing picked up again, "What is your name, boy?"
I realized more than anything else in that moment that this man was, in fact, stark naked.
…and well-endowed, because of how heavy it felt on my chest, the musky thing to put a pony to shame.
I kept my eyes on his face because of it, not wanting to look at it. I couldn't bring myself to look at any other part of him than his eyes and that smile even as my face burned with the deepest shade of red and I stammered in response, "Y-Y-" I swallowed thickly, "Yar—Yarrow… Yarrow H-Hewnson."
"Yarrow Hewnson…" The strange man purred, rolling the name on his tongue like it were a cherry, grinding it out through his teeth in a slow and purposeful manner while his hands gripped my shoulders even tighter, the pricks of his nails digging into my skin through the robe.
I… could not have imagined what was going to happen next.
Not even in just the next moment.
The next… everything—the days, the months, the years…
It all started here, with this. This one little thing I could not wrap my head around.
He kissed me.
His lips, his tongue, the whole inside of his mouth was hot, like fire, and that was what my mind chose to focus on considering it had trouble dealing with the fact a naked man was sitting on my chest, kissing me.
I didn't like men.
I didn't like women.
I couldn't remember liking anybody, though I'd given both men and women a gander here and there when they were especially beautiful or handsome. I couldn't remember ever giving it a serious thought.. neither courting or marriage or children or family had ever crossed my mind – it had always been about taking care of my siblings and the farm and…
I didn't feel this was right, but I didn't feel it was wrong, either. It was just… strange—the way his hot, slick tongue swiped all around my mouth, capturing and twisting about my tongue as he encouraged me to kiss him back and I don't know why I would ever – I mean… what was the point of it?
Who even was this man?
But still he went on, encouraging, eyes staring so intently down at me as he kissed me, and finally when his hands left my shoulders and cupped my face, hot palms gently stroking my cheeks and my hair, I squinted my eyes shut and shut out the "who" and "why" and I just.. kissed him back. I imitated him as best I could, since I had never kissed anyone before, and it seemed to do well enough as he smiled at me, breaking the kiss with a hot, sweet-smelling breath exhaling across my face.
"W-Why… are..?" I knew what I wanted to ask, but I felt out of breath, and my mouth didn't want to form the words I wanted.
"You don't have to wonder why, Yarrow Hewnson." He assured me as he stood and moved himself down to sit between my legs, gathering up my robe to pull it up over my hips, "Just let me do as I do, and soon it will all be over. You understand why you were sent here, do you not?" he asked as he pulled the white cotton up over my belly.
"To—To be sac.. rificed—" I stammered, and feebly I tried to pull my robe back down, though he would pull my hands away and pull it up to my armpits.
"Yes. This is part of it… Soon your Dragon will appear, and you will die. Your village will be safe for another fifty years, your crops will flourish, fish will overflow in the river… All because you have given yourself to your Dragon." He explained, voice tender and purring as he finally hefted my robe up over my head, tossing it aside.
I was nude, then, just as nude as he. I'd never been nude with a man before, not even my brothers, and I felt ashamed for it as I closed my legs and hid my length with my hand. I was so bleary now that I could barely register what was going on – my head was swimming, not unlike the time I had gone drinking with Birch far before I was allowed and my poor, stupid young head couldn't handle it.
"Why… this?" I moaned quietly.
"It is part of it. You surely must wonder why only Virgins are sent as sacrifice…?" He responded, letting me cover myself while he gathered my legs and pushed them up to my chest.
I was just the tiniest bit more alert when I felt him—that very large, hot part of him—rest against a place I had only ever touched when cleaning.
It made my eyes widen, my lips part, my body tense as I tried to move away from him – but he had pressed my legs firmly to my body and my arms were all but useless.
"Don't—This—" I panted, staring blindly into the darkness above us, "—I'm not a woman, this isn't—that's not right—" What did he hope to accomplish in doing this with me? I wasn't a woman, I could not bear children—what other reason was there in doing this? I'd always been taught…-
"It does not matter, Yarrow Hewnson." He murmured, leaning himself over my legs, pinning them with his body as his hands gripped my rear and lifted it off the hot stone beneath us, "You will not live beyond this moment. Do not spent your last moments in fear, and confusion… Give into whatever you feel, and do not think about it."
He began to press forward.
"Give into a final moment of bliss."
At first there was pressure…
…and then there was pain.
I had nothing I could possibly compare it to – I did not know it didn't hurt as much as it should, but it still hurt, and the pressure sinking into me was so foreign it made my nerves jump alight. I felt him pushing himself into me, slowly, but steadily and without reprieve. I tried to do what he said, I tried not to be scared, I tried not to ask questions or think about things too much but still I found tears welling in my eyes, spilling over as I stretched wider, and wider, more and more painfully.
I didn't think he'd ever stop – I began to feel so full it felt like I was filled in every corner of myself, I felt nauseous and uneasy as his thighs came to rest against my rear and he seated himself fully into me and while under normal circumstances anyone taking a length that large no matter how gently would be screaming and begging for reprieve – I wasn't. It felt.. I could feel it, but it didn't hurt any more than I imagined a woman's first time would have.
I didn't know why.
I didn't know any better.
I just didn't think about it.
Within moments, then, he had begun to move. He kept me pinned in every place possible so I was not allowed to move, so I simply lay there as he pulled himself out of me and then pushed himself back into me. It didn't hurt any less, if anything else the salty musky pre-cum spilling out of him make the newly made splits in my rear from over-stretching burn like pouring salt into any other wound. The tears flowed freely and I found myself sobbing like a child, both out of pain, and fear of my impending doom, and confusion…
He didn't give me long to adjust before he began to move faster, banging himself in and out of me harder than I was prepared for. What did he care, though? He would use me once and then be done with me. He told me I was going to die after this. Maybe during this? I was so scared. I was so confused.
He was making quick work of things. He was picking up speed far quicker than I was prepared for – he cared nothing for my fear or my confusion but I was a tool for him to use. I was no longer a virgin, and rapidly becoming even less than that as he released my arms and moved my legs apart so he could lean farther over me, drive himself even deeper into me. He held my legs to his sides and got so close to me that we could kiss again – but he made no motion to do even this, so I turned my head and he snorted breath after hot breath into my hair while the world shook around me and my insides burned like fire.
It did, eventually, begin to feel good though I couldn't tell whether I was genuinely enjoying it or if I had simply gotten used to the pain. Maybe both – maybe I was used to the pain and that allowed pleasure to peek through the cloud of stabbing, throbbing pain—
Or maybe it had just been the beginning, and I had resigned myself to a more hellish fate than I imagined.
All at once he stopped, from a jackrabbit-speed of thrusting into me to a dead stop with his length fully hilted inside of me. Then, suddenly, it felt like he swelled within me—and indeed he swelled, but…
….he was growing.
All over himself, he was growing – bigger, taller, swelling in the arms and legs and middle, his skull growing, his hair shrinking—I was so out of myself I hardly registered anything was wrong until he began to stretch me from the inside out to the point where I absolutely had to become vocal.
I cried out in pain and looked up in time to see his hair fallen out, scattering around me—his skin had begun to crack like stone and fire glowed and burned within each crack, making him look like a man made of embers while still he swelled in size, sweeping me up off the ground while he grew, and grew, and soon his hands were so large and gnarled looking that he held me like a child might hold a doll, and that was only the beginning of things.
I could not focus on the rest of the transformation – the sprouting of large, glorious wings and the growing of a long whip-like tail, the elongation of his neck and arms and legs and his face distorting into a maw—I could not focus on any of this as I felt needle-like pricks stabbing me from the inside, and each time I pulled and stretched around him I felt sharp pain unlike anything I'd ever felt before, burning, searing— barbs which had sprouted all over his gargantuan length rendered into my flesh to keep me in place, and I felt death drawing upon me as my hips popped and I could feel the bones of my hips separating, and I, surely, was going to die… just as he said… I never imagined in such a carnal way…
…and…
…again the darkness drew upon me, and I thought, for a final time, 'Surely I must me dead.'
