Obsession
In the dark of the night, within the bowels of a great mountain, just past the border of the Dragon Realms, three young dragons schemed. They were the Knifetails' most capable leaders and they schemed together, but they also schemed against one another, always subtly searching for weakness. Only the strong were fit to lead, afterall. The Knifetails were obsessed with keeping only the most fit leaders in power, so they could stay ahead of the monstrous creatures of the night that they wished to supersede.
"So, that's it then." Slither may have been an expert at hiding her true emotions, but Cynder had known the thin green dragoness for too long to be fooled. Cynder could tell that Slither suspected the story she'd been told wasn't entirely true, but Cynder just nodded her head with a smug smile. "The Purple Dragon wants the Tome of Mistress Valenar."
"Yes, and I'd rather not stand in his way." The green fire in the pit at the center of their hidden meeting cave cast the faces of the three dragons in an eerie light, and within the flicker of the flames a vision came into view, conjured from Cynder's imagination with a wave of her hand. It showed distorted images of Spyro spitting massive gouts of flame into battalions of gnorcs, then lightning coming down to strike great rocs from the sky, and finally lasers and cannons roaring from towering battlements. "Making an enemy of the single greatest dragon of our generation would be foolish enough if there were only social consequences, but Spyro has mastered all forms of combat known to our kind and then some. He can be an asset, or he can be an obstacle. I would choose the former."
"Of course," came the deep, powerful voice of Blackout, his expression stoic and unimpressed. "And I'm certain you determined as much before you allowed him to plow you into the ground." The sudden accusation shifted Cynder's focus, and a vision of Spyro's long, thick cock came into view, rendered in fantastic detail, as if Cynder had been paying the real thing a great deal of close attention recently. Slither gasped from the sight while Cynder frantically dispelled the illusions, attempting to hide her embarrassment behind an indifferent expression.
"I had a chance to mate with the Mage-Slayer and I took it." She smiled smugly, her wings fanning out in a show of dominance. "And yes, he was better than you." That shut Blackout up quite soundly, the male too flustered by her boasting to restate his concerns in a more constructive manner. "I say we let Spyro have the Tome, and I shall help him acquire it. By the privileges of one of his mates, I will learn the spell we need from it and pass that information on to the two of you. While it is true that the tome itself can grant great power to the caster who holds it, our objective doesn't require that power. The spell will do, and no more children will be taken in the night."
"A sound plan." Slither stalked around the fire to Cynder, breaching protocol and placing a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. "But you forget that your past isn't a mystery, Cynder. Spyro is more to you than to anyone else. You've known him since you were both much younger. If you make this your last mission for the Knifetails and remain with Spyro afterwards, I will understand." Cynder looked down at the ground, clearly conflicted and thinking over the possibilities. "I will always trust and confide in you, Cynder, whether you stay or not. You've been selfless for far too long. If he makes you happy, stay with him."
As far as Slither was concerned, having Cynder live with Spyro permanently would be immensely valuable to her future efforts. Spyro had always held a slight distrust of the Knifetails due their methods, particularly the use of dark magic, but he had an obvious soft-spot for Cynder that could be exploited. By stoking the passion that drew Cynder to Spyro's harem, Slither would finally be cashing in on all the work she'd done to earn Cynder's trust and friendship. Helping her rise in the ranks quickly had been part of that plan, just as letting her go now was. It would be laughably easy to keep track of what Spyro was doing and what his disposition was through future conversations with Cynder. So, another piece in Slither's game was falling into place, and Cynder had no reason to do anything other than play her part. Everything would simply work out fabulously for all involved.
"Thank you, Slither. I guess I just didn't want to leave all this behind. I've spent so much of my life on this..."
"You won't unlearn what I've taught you by leaving my service." Slither giggled, shaking her head. "Just don't be a stranger. Come by for a chat every few weeks and we can trade stories. I wouldn't mind hearing all about the heroic exploits of Spyro the Mage-Slayer from someone who really knows him, and I'll keep you up to date on everything going on here; I might still need your advice."
"Why not come to the party he's throwing, then?" That stalled Slither's train of thought, her smile falling away for the briefest of moments. "You could even ask him for a look at the tome yourself, just so you can say you held it in your claws, and he knows quite a few bipeds that I'm sure he'll invite."
"Pah!" Blackout finally made his presence known again, sneering at Cynder over the fire. "Lives are at stake and you have time for parties?"
"By the time the party starts, you'll have the spell and this shadow beast will be stopped. Besides, I'm pretty sure Spotlight will be there." Blackout's expression softened immediately, and he lowered his head apologetically.
"Well, it would be nice to see her again."
"And only Zeroes are invited," Cynder continued, "which means no nagging from the Elders, and plenty of quality drugs. Spyro will post about it on Realmbridge when we've decided on a date." Slither internally took note of the fact that Cynder seemed like she had already been one of Spyro's mates before the meeting started, confirming that Spyro himself was to thank for her willingness to do exactly what Slither wanted her to. It was exceptionally convenient for the daughter of Venera.
"We wouldn't miss that for anything." Cynder would spend one last night in a Knifetail den, and in the morning she would return to Spyro to complete one final mission, for the good of all dragons as young as he was when they first met. All she had to do was trust in Slither's plan.
Ember had certainly endured a long night, but the majority of her trouble had come from her own worries about how she would spend the next morning. Her mother had been very supportive of her decision; in spite of her close involvement in the rest of Ember's life compared to most dragon parents, she did want all of her children to find fulfillment in their own lives as soon as they could. Ember's father had not been present, but her mother's other two mates had been, and she had expected their lack of interest. It was her mother she was truly going to miss, so she'd promised to visit from time to time. After all of that was said and done, Ember was struck by the fact that she had decided to strive away from her parents' home without a real job, and was entirely dependent on Spyro. Thus, she had begun to fret.
She trusted him completely, of course, but she didn't wish to be a burden. If her stay with him was going to be funded entirely by him then she resolved to be the most helpful and pleasant keeper of his home she could possibly be. Unfortunately, the poor male didn't seem to know everything a home needed, and that left Ember with the dilemma of deciding what to spend her very limited gems on in the morning. She was fretting so furiously about what to buy that she complained about her predicament to Spyro over a text message, but he was obviously busy speaking with Elora. The delay in his response cast her thoughts to the reason why, and then she began to fret about that situation too, hoping that the faun would find it in her heart to embrace draconic customs. More than anything, she just wanted Spyro to be happy.
Then, while she was stressing over prices for various seasonings, Spyro sent a reply. "That's no problem." She read. "Tell me your routing number. I'll send you some cash." So she did, and in a few more seconds her eyes popped fully open as she gawked stupidly at her new bank balance. "Let me know if you need anymore." He sent next, but Ember knew she had more than enough. Not only would she be able to properly stock the kitchen and the bathrooms, but she'd be able to shop around in the more fun parts of the market to buy Spyro something special. In fact, her mind even turned to the possibility of getting quite a few things for herself.
"Oh, I could get used to being mated with such a rich dragon." She mused privately to herself, her chest puffing out with pride in her mate. Again she was amazed at her luck, but it didn't slow her down, because she knew that Spyro truly returned her affections. After setting a stack of plates in a cart, Ember immediately realized that her contented daydreaming had distracted her from the task at hand. "Guess I'll need to rent out some kind of transport before I start buying anything. I'll need to load it as I go now that I can afford to get everything that we need." Resolving to do just that, Ember set out, eager to return to her new home with the treasures of the market in tow.
She'd struck a deal with a mabu shipping company to lend her a truck and driver in an hour and a half when a familiar black dragoness swooped down beside Ember with a bright grin on her face. "Spyro told me you might need help with a few things, and I don't want to head back without you anyway. What all are we picking up?"
"Only every single essential that boys don't seem to know about." Ember showed Cynder a view of her current bank balance with her phone, Cynder gasping and pulling her head back in shock. "I know. His extravagant wealth is a lot more shocking when you're holding a piece of it in your claws." Cynder just nodded dumbly, her eyes tracking the phone as Ember returned it to her bag. "Anyway, we've only got an hour and a half to buy everything so I'll let you pick out the rest of the dishes while I start with the bathing products and we'll get the food last."
"Ember." The pink dragoness stopped and turned to her companion.
"Yes?"
Cynder smiled broadly, whispering. "You're even cuter when you take charge." Ember's wings fluffed up and a blush spread on her face, Cynder leaning in to kiss her cheek. "See you at the carrot stand."
Ember was left speechless for a good long minute, but soon she let out a contented sigh, watching Cynder fly off. "I'm going to buy us matching leather bondage sets."
Slim at her waist, but shapely at her hips. Soft to the touch, but sharp were her claws. So tuned to her element was she that her claws were composed of crystal, rings of small crystals around her wrists and ankles, and more small crystals grew along her wings, their membranes shimmering with the same rich amethyst color. More such crystals sprouted behind her crest, one on her head, and one on her chest. Her eyes were on the border between grey and sky blue, leaning further toward the former, and her belly plates were an arctic blue, drawing the gazes of others lower. Her scales seemed to shift from an inviting, creamy white in soft light to a provocative and captivating lavender in harsher light. Her scales, plates, and crystals were polished to perfection, with not a single blemish nor nick nor crack on any of them, and careful applications of special lotions kept her appearance as alluring as possible, her perfectly curved and thickened lashes batting at the mirror before her face.
This was Flashwing, and the only dragon whose appearance she admired more than her own was Spyro's. As obsessed as she was with her own beauty and carefully maintaining it, she was even more obsessed with Spyro. She had thrown herself at races she would never have tried were it not for Spyro's interest in such things, training day and night for years to gain the skills needed to meet Spyro in a professional environment, just to be someone he might consider a peer in some way. As it turned out, she had a natural talent for navigating up and down mountains, just as she was incredibly gifted in the use of the Earth element, and going down a snowy mountain really quickly wasn't too far out of her comfort zone for her to work at it. Finally she was on the verge of actually racing against Spyro, and that meant she could meet him properly. She knew that if she got him alone that she'd be able to seduce him, and even more exciting was that he had recently announced that he was on the market. He'd taken two gorgeous dragonesses for his own already, so Flashwing was more certain than ever that she was his type.
Still, being so well-sculpted, particularly at her butt and thighs, didn't come without work. She preferred to do her exercising in the early morning, if possible, while also catching up on relevant news. Some dragons didn't seem interested in watching actual news broadcasts, but Flashwing had recorded quite a few on her DVR. Specifically, she kept every broadcast that had Spyro in it, transferring recordings to external hard-drives whenever she needed to. She turned on her television set and tuned in to DNN, taking an upright posture and extending her arms forward to begin with squats. A commercial was playing on the channel when she turned it on, but funnily enough she still got what she wanted from it. It was an advertisement for Dragon Shores, a popular theme park run by gnorcs, and Spyro appeared in it, being their official mascot. The park had simply been named after its geographical location, which was also simply known as "Dragon Shores," to the infinite confusion of first-time tourists.
The camera was focused on a burly gnorc gesturing to the park behind him with a ringmaster-style staff. "When you want to soak up some sun on the beach, play some fun carnival games, and experience thrilling rides, but you can't decide on which to do, don't sweat it! Just come on down to Dragon Shores and do all three! It's the number one vacation destination for the great Savior of the Realms himself, Spyro the dragon!" Flashwing maintained perfect balance with her wings outstretched and her tail straight as she watched the panning camera bring Spyro into view. The stretches were simple and second-nature for her, so her attention was entirely on Spyro's smug grin and charming gaze while she worked her muscles, warming herself up before the morning jog.
"That's right, Gniles." Spyro replied, facing the camera and tilting his head slightly, his wings giving the small, leisure flick that Flashwing knew meant that he was quite pleased with himself. "After several months of kicking butt and saving people, it's nice to kick back and relax out here, even though saving the realms is laughably easy for me. Whenever I've been without a good fight for too long I hit up the laser-tag arena, so remember to bring your A-game when you come by. If you're feeling really confident you can even go for some of my records at the shooting galleries, just don't forget to enjoy the relaxing sights and sounds of the beach when you're done playing hard. As for me, I'm gonna go grab a martini and soak up a few rays." Spyro winked at the camera and strutted out of frame, the focus returning to Gniles.
"You heard it straight from the dragon's mouth, folks! This is the place to be for anyone who wants to see the Dragon Realms; even the locals love it here! Buy one-day tickets at the gate, or plan your trip on our website. Be sure to talk to our partners at the Dragon's Arms Inn if you're planning an extended stay, and remember to visit the iconic fountain statue of the Great Sea Dragon while you're in town!" The advertisement ended with another gnorc's voice enthusiastically calling out the Park's phone number over footage of various rides, games, and tourist spots, Spyro's voice coming in to say: "Come on down to Dragon Shores, the best vacation spot in all the realms," while the footage was focused on the Gnorc Gnacks souvenir shop, Spyro-themed merchandise on prominent display.
Flashwing knew from experience that the advertisement wasn't exaggerating. Having the direct endorsement of Spyro from the day of its founding had done a lot for Dragon Shores, and the fact that Spyro was so welcoming to the gnorcs right after the incident with Gnasty had garnered all manner of media attention, and the gnorcs themselves were of great interest, making public statements in defiance of Gnasty's misguided war against dragon kind. After Spyro had systematically killed every soldier who stood in his way and Gnasty was locked up it seemed as though the dissenters had become emboldened enough to apply for citizenship in the Dragon Realms, and they left the majority of their species behind them. It was a surreal sight at first, to witness Spyro and several gnorcs speaking casually about business in interviews, all of them comfortable in one another's presence.
Flashwing had moved on to her lunges by the time the actual news had started playing, and a small list of missing children was reported. There was also a cautionary tale about gang violence, and the mentioning of some Earthshaper Golems from Avalar illegally carving out new dens in some mountains to the East of Dragonfly Falls. It was all terribly irrelevant to Flashwing's life, and when the segment concerning the stock market started she decided she was caught up enough on current events to tune out. She paused after her lunges to switch to her DVR, playing an interview of Spyro just after a snowboarding competition victory from two years prior. She laid on her back and started to perform her flutter kicks, letting her mind drift on the soothing confidence of Spyro's voice. She kept her gaze on the screen, watching his expression, imagining being there with him.
Soon she would be. They were both slotted for the same upcoming snowboard race, and she envisioned that she was the one he was speaking to rather than a reporter. In her mind's eye everything else fell away, and she could practically feel him on top of her. Her legs relaxed as she suspended her little workout for the moment, lowering her pristine amethyst claws down her belly and to her winking clit. "Oh, Spyro," she moaned quietly to herself. "I'll be your trophy. Just take me home with you." Her toes curled as her fingers started to rub her pussy, the quiet sounds from her crotch barely noticeable over the voice of Spyro, answering inane questions while smiling at the camera. She couldn't help making a show of pleasuring herself, even though she lacked an audience, working her hips into her lightly thrusting fingers, her back arcing and her wings stretching out slowly along the floor.
If Flashwing could earn the affections of Spyro then she could leave her dull life behind and take up residence in his. No more clocking in to a job she didn't care about to pay rent for a small apartment that wasn't really hers. No more obsessing over Spyro from a distance, unable to properly share how much she adored him. She would finally be able to see him in person every day, permitted to worship his physique alongside other physically stunning dragonesses, her only responsibility to maintain the beauty she'd already worked so hard for. She gasped at the prospect as she played with herself, rubbing against her most sensitive spots, clenching over her fingers and soaking them in her arousal. She wouldn't mind having more time to practice her snowboarding either, having gained ever deeper respect for Spyro along her journey to become skilled enough to compete with him. She pictured the thrill of the race, careening down a snowy mountainside with a vibrant aurora above and Spyro racing beside her, as distracted by her as she was by him. The disparate fantasies of racing against and mating with Spyro played out together in Flashwing's mind, fueling her lust.
A soft moan resounded through the sparse living room, the needy dragoness digging her fingers in deeper and rubbing her palm over her clit. She forced her hips up against her hand with the intensity that the dragon she daydreamed about deserved, half performing hip-bridges in the process, her thighs burning from the exertion. That sensation of strained muscles was pleasant enough alone, but Flashwing also felt electric pulses of pleasure from her groin, and it made her voice sing. Her moaning was unrestrained, carefully practiced shifts of her claws drawing out girly squeaks and yelps, but she had only just begun. Her other hand cupped her own ass, lifted as it was by her strong legs, on its way down to her vent, and once she had fingers in both of her holes at once the real fun started. "Wherever you want to put it, handsome." She spoke encouragingly, assuring herself that anything Spyro might want from her, she'd be able to give it. The thought of pleasing a powerful dragon with such high standards and the hot, creamy reward that she would milk for her efforts sent her over the edge, her holes clamping tightly on her probing fingers, her hips shaking with exertion. Her tongue hung from her panting mouth, her eyes unfocused while she rode out her release, her juices staining her exercise mat below her round butt.
Her expert fingers had brought her to a quick climax, but she wouldn't be truly satisfied until she had Spyro himself buried inside her. Still, it was enough relief for her to get back to her morning routine, and she wasted no time doing so. She had a race to prepare for, afterall.
"Oh, Sensei." Another of the many dragons fantasizing about Spyro that morning was Camo, who was alone in the midst of the Mountain Crackers' treasure hoard. It was his turn to guard the Tome of Mistress Valenar, but the monotony of the simple job had left his mind to wander and he'd found himself lingering on the thoughts that Rock and High Five had put into his head the previous day. His fingers were wet with his saliva as he stroked himself, his grip almost uncomfortably firm, and his eyes shut so he could imagine that Spyro was the one working him so roughly. The ridges of his cock made wet little popping noises as his hand slid up and down them, and they flared out sharply when he throbbed, his fingertips pressing down between them at his most sensitive spots. He groaned and leaned back, his other arm keeping his back off the floor, his wings fluttering happily.
Camo hadn't ever really been with another dragon before, but he hoped that when he was that he'd be able to last as long as he did in times like these, and he started to tease his tip between his thumb and forefinger as he envisioned it: impressing Spyro with his stamina. "Yes, Sensei. I can keep going until you're satisfied. Nnngh..." The claws of his left hand dug harshly into the floor while he picked up the pace, thrusting his hips against his own grip. Camo desperately wanted to fuck Spyro face-to-face, but he wasn't concerned with the mechanics of how it would actually work in that moment, just picturing their chests pressed together, the legendary Mage-Slayer beneath him, moaning and grinning. "Yes. So beautiful. So perfect." He went at it like that for a good long while, but through the haze of arousal his mind started to make sense of his fantasy, and he realized that he was willing to take Spyro's vent beneath his slit. He had always brushed such ideas off as unsanitary before, but he didn't care anymore as long as he could be with Spyro.
Of course, he was just the learner, and Spyro the Sensei. It was clear who would be the dominant party in their interactions. Thinking of that made Camo's hand slow to a gentle stroke, his expression going pensive. Perhaps the reverse wouldn't be so bad either, he thought, lowering his fingers past his balls and teasing his own vent. "I suppose, if he wanted to..." Camo muttered quietly, trailing off as he slowly pushed his fingers inside of himself, gritting his teeth and groaning from the odd sensation. It was a tighter fit than he'd ever expected, the sensation of spreading around his own fingers as jarring at first as it was pleasant moments later. "Nnnff~" Soon he was thrusting two fingers rapidly in and out of his rear, his legs shaking with a new sort of pleasure that he'd never felt before, and his tail smacked loudly against the ground with every press and prod of his fingers. Once he'd adjusted well enough to feel confident, Camo forced a third finger inside, his vent almost painfully stretched, and if he just focused he could imagine that his hand wasn't there, that those sensations were being caused by Spyro's cock slowly slipping inside, the tip pressing into that extra sensitive spot, making Camo feel so stupid for never having tried this before.
He collapsed onto his back so his other hand could stroke his cock while his fingers stretched his vent, panting like a bitch in heat. It didn't take him long to finish in that position, quietly squealing Spyro's name with a strained voice while he came, his jizz coating his belly-plates and thighs. "Quite a performance, Camo." He went rigid at the sound of Rock's voice, his eyes popping open to see the other male standing a few feet away to his left. "Though I do hope you don't get any of your excitement on the tome. Spyro is counting on us, you know."
Camo's wings drooped and his shoulders slumped, his gaze cast to the floor. "I thought I'd notice if anyone was coming, but I guess not. I'm sorry, Rock. It won't happen again." Rock nodded brusquely, turning away to scan the rest of the room so he could hide his blush.
"Yes, well, it's my turn now so go and wash yourself off, I guess."
Upon Spyro's coffee table sat a hookah, and between his fingers was the hose. The feeling of the smoke passing to and from his lungs was relaxing in its mildness, considering he often breathed fire of his own making, but the effects of the drug he was inhaling with that smoke were immediately apparent. He would need quite a bit more to be fully satisfied with the results, but a pleasant tingle had already spread through his limbs by the time he was exhaling the smoke from his nostrils, the skylight above letting the sun's rays highlight the soft wisps. Spyro had tried a number of drugs for the sake of experimentation, but Hunter had always advocated specifically for marijuana, and Spyro had come to agree with the cheetah on that front. Dragons typically had much higher tolerance levels than other species, but marijuana being safer than most other options was far from the only reason to prefer it. It could sooth the mind and calm twitchy muscles, as well as enhance physical sensations and make the world look and feel more vibrant, all without any major side-effects when taken in moderation.
More primitive cultures in fringe worlds believed marijuana to be magical, and with good reason. After a second puff, Spyro passed off the hose to his left so Hunter could partake in his personal stash. The fact that marijuana, and indeed most other drugs, were legal in the Dragon Realms was one of many reasons why Hunter had left Avalar behind. The attitude of dragon culture toward substance regulation was informed by their endorsement of individual freedom and the relative lack of coddling for their young, who were expected to be living their own lives rather early in their development. There were particularly dangerous drugs that simply weren't used elsewhere because they were seen as toxins by frailer species, and some of these could potentially be fatal for dragons, but in spite of these being technically illegal, not much was done to crack down on black market circulation. Hunter tried not to think too much about all that, focusing on the positive result such laxness in the authorities had on his personal life. And so, he too took a hit from the hookah, the effect on him much stronger than for the dragon beside him.
Hunter was already giggling stupidly by the time he gave Spyro the hose back, their companions not partaking of their drug of choice. Bianca and Elora were largely uninterested in such things, though the faun was curious due to the excessive use of both marijuana and tobacco in faun culture. She had actually smoked plenty of it when she was younger, but she hadn't particularly enjoyed doing so, and she hadn't minded stopping to work elsewhere in Avalar. From the look on Hunter's face she assumed that Spyro's stock would be a bit too much for her anyway. The past twenty-four hours had been stressful for all of them, regardless of the happy conclusion, but Elora had her own methods for de-stressing. Her gaze swept over the vibrant violets that framed her bosom, and the tiny white flowers that framed the leaves of her dress, all brought into the world for her by Spyro's magic, and she smiled. While Bianca played through more Wiz Brawl tutorials and Spyro exhaled more sweetly scented marijuana smoke from his nostrils, Elora lifted her pan flute to her lips and began to play.
It was surreal for Spyro to finally hear Elora making music, as it was a part of her he'd never witnessed before. Hunter had told him about it, but the retellings always seemed so distant and ethereal, impossible to truly envision. Spyro recognized the soul of the music, as it shared something fundamental with the songs he'd heard in Fracture Hills and Magma Cone, but from the same culture came many variations. What Elora was playing was softer and slower, but reveled just as much in the joy of life. Hunter recognized it in a more direct way, humming along to a song he'd heard from Elora many times in the past, his voice quieting during impressive flourishes of the pan flute that he couldn't keep up with. Spyro simply leaned back, shut his eyes, and soaked it in, sighing with deep satisfaction, his wings draped over the shoulders of his furry companions.
Until his phone informed him that he had some returning residents to let back in. "Keep yourselves entertained. I'm going to lend my muscles to the girls so we can unload everything they bought faster."
"Is that so?" Elora asked, smirking. "And what, exactly, did they buy?"
"I'm the wrong person to ask." Spyro replied honestly, shrugging his shoulders and flicking his wings to the sides. "All I know is that it's going to make baths and meals better."
"Well that sounds good." Elora hopped off the couch and followed Spyro toward the entrance hall, expertly skipping over the floor cushions whilst Spyro weaved around them. "We might as well give the happy couple back there some time alone. Besides, I'm looking forward to seeing those two again."
"And I'm looking forward to seeing the three of you naked, laying on top of each other." Elora giggled and blushed, quite excited about that herself.
Some distance away from Spyro's isolated little world, in Dragonfly Falls, Sparx the magical dragonfly was resting his wings, his weight on his many legs. He'd just finished taking seven female dragonflies in a row, physically satisfied, and recovering for another go in a few hours. As much fun as he was having on his little trip, he did worry about his brother, wondering how much longer it would take his dragon brother to discover the joys of sex.
If only the little insect could carry a phone he might not have been so clueless to recent events.
