Dragon(s)layer
21
Trouble Troubles
Reclaiming classrooms was Ignitia's campaign. Since there were no fill-ins, apparently the Ices and the Fires had spent a good deal of time chopping up fiefdoms from one another across the lecture halls. Reuniting the greater student body was a task met with much yelling, wing waving and orderly dishing out of petty punishments.
"They started it." An indignant Fire drake cried.
"The first bottle to fly came from your end of the room. You blind or something?" The Ice drake on Ignitia's other side snapped.
"I don't care very much about which one of you started it, but I do care about footing the damages bill to your families." The Guardian growled, giving her best 'Pissed off mama-hen' –look to both groups of younglings. "I'm curious to hear what they would think about their sons and daughters weaponizing an entire alchemical classroom. Do any of you see that volumetric flask? The one in pieces on the floor there? That costs more than a year's quarter enrollment."
"…Uhm… w-which one's the… the whatchyamacallit?" Somebody peeped. Ignitia groaned in despair.
"Bottom line, gentledrakes and hens: prepare for a scolding back home. Respect academy property. And for god's sake, stop sleeping on your desks and pay attention!"
That wasn't even the fullest extent of it.
Every time she popped into a room, someone was sleeping, someone else was hanging from the ceiling, and in one special case, she discovered a week old sandwich left to rot under a desk. A drawer was left open, revealing a poorly hidden raunchy erotica novelette that had seen obvious usage, judging by the way the pages were stuck together.
There was even a dead bird that someone had swept behind a storage cabinet and had forgotten. Ignitia was terrified that there would be another body and it would've been one of the students, or worse, one of the fill-ins that had supposedly fled.
Thankfully, nothing of note was that extreme. But after a few hours, she was exhausted. It felt like the flight from the south had repeated itself.
"Ma'am, where should I leave the exams?" One of the lodging staff pestered her.
"Desk." –Was all Ignitia could mutter.
She summarily face-planted into the plush futon running her office's northern wall, and deflated into its cushions with a deep sigh. The other dragon looked on in pity before leaving the stack of papers and closing the door behind him. Ignitia attempted to word out a- 'thankyou' –but all that came through her teeth was a corpse's wheeze.
What a day.
She couldn't remember wanting sleep so badly before. The nap had done nothing.
She snorted as she lounged in the cushions, ignoring the rapturous red details of her office around her. She'd put a lot of time and effort into making her secondary abode in the main hall decorative, a source to derive contemplation and accomplishment from.
Now, it was just a nice cell to lock out the world from and linger.
Ignitia's wings wilted over her back and her eyes were almost impossible to keep open. She snorted again when the scent of perspiration slapped her in the face. She was anathema to admit that it was coming from herself.
Even her perfumes were powerless against that.
Cinnamon.
She loved the smell of cinnamon. Evidently, so did the Fallen.
Ignitia's claw twitched towards her large desk in the western corner. There was a drawer that she kept one of her bottles in. She wanted to smell nice for when he came back, because… because…
BM-BM
"…Come in." Ignitia groaned, rolling off the futon as the door clicked open and shut.
"Good afternoon, Ignitia." Cyrila gave her usual cold and brief grin before strutting into the room. "Taking another midday nap for the next course?"
"Good afternoon, and no, I was just closing my eyes for a moment. Ah, here, sit." The Fire Guardian yawned and rubbed at an eye as she stumbled away from the futon and towards her desk. "So tell me how it went."
"I could say sluggish. Mother keeps seeing things in the dark. She's convinced that there's a goblin living in the cupboard and I don't even know what to say to her anymore. You can't tell them they are wrong, because they'll just forget two minutes later. I'm astounded she remembered my name, let alone my face." Cyrila blabbered, hopping onto the cushions and lounging like a cat as Ignitia slipped into a large roundel throne behind her desk. "If you want to hear something morose: I always expected her to fade away in her nesting, still and regal, just like father and uncle."
"I'm so sorry, Cyrila, I'm-" Ignitia sighed sadly, pausing and folding her claws on the desk. "-Ah, I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say."
"Stop apologizing for one: it's unbecoming when you've done nothing wrong." Cyrila waved a paw. "No dragon handles the departure of those dear to them well, and they never know what to say when other dragons suffer it beside them. Your time is remedy enough."
"Certainly, and as long as you need."
"…Do you still have the bottle?"
"Of course I do." Ignitia chuckled, slipping open a drawer and pulling out a quietly sloshing pillar of blood hued glass. "Crimsonscale, aged. Nono, sit. You've been on your paws all day."
"Hardly the worst thing to drink about." Cyrila huffed, toying with her own tail blade in her claw. "Do you know that she was attentive for a whole half of the visit? I know the healers say that there aren't triggers for these sorts of things, but graces of the Old Masters, the way she looked at me when I mentioned father's manuscripts. I think she blanked out every word I said about them on purpose. I didn't even think that was possible anymore."
"Engineering failures must hit the Ice Dragons harder than most." Ignitia teased, pouring two glasses of the blood red wine and rounding her desk.
"No no, it isn't that." Cyrila shook her head, taking her glass when Ignitia's tail stretched out and uncurled from the neck for her. "It's not even that blasted manifesto he scribbled up. My father was drunk for half his career successes, but the most mysterious of his works were always done sober. He had to be, just to stomach some of the flowers he saturated that parchment with, but I like to think he was most intuitive and accepting when he was sober."
"He tried to put his claws on you."
"After two of those." Cyrila pointed at the bottle. "The apology letters started coming in when he was in the mountains. I could tell his state by the tone of his sentences. False and drunk father was very brash and judgmental, sober and true father was very doting, poetic and neutral. You couldn't get colder opposites, or easier signs to determine who was living in his head that day."
"So how did this influence today? Was your mother… asking about him? Looking for him?"
"MmMm." Cyrila hummed, being caught mid-sip of her wine. "No, not looking for him. But she is far gone enough that she could be calling his name the next time I delve into the dark over there."
The way Cyrila talked about it so leisurely made Ignitia's stomach turn in loops. She wasn't planning on voicing that lesser opinion, but… Ancestors, how disregardful.
"She did ask about him, if I had seen him, spoken with him, or if I knew what he was doing in the military." Cyrila clicked her tongue. "What was I supposed to say? The truth? I've said it a hundred times, she just forgets, and I don't have time for that badgering antic any longer, with all this work to be done…"
"So what happened?" Ignitia swallowed a displeased comment.
"I told her that father had written me a sonnet." The Ice Guardian splayed a claw, as if presenting some unseen prize beside her snout. "Talk about dodging a bullet."
"Uh-huh." Ignitia found she had drained her glass. She sniffed, and refilled it.
"-'No, Cyrie', he's not in those mountains, he's in the peaks over Solemn mapping out his sire's schematics. You silly hatchling, you were always so forgetful.'-" Cyrila mimicked in a squeaky voice. "The gall! As if it was impossible for the old fool to collect his scales long enough and actually write down a coherent sentence. He was a cock, not an illiterate Ape."
"Be patient with her, sister, she's unwell. I'm certain nothing malicious was intended in anything she said. You know how things become blocked and…" Ignitia drowned any further peddling with a heavy sip.
Oh. An empty cup again. Time to pour another…
"…And as always… I hate it when you're right." Cyrila mumbled, swirling the last of her wine in the funnel as her tail twitched. "It's been quite difficult to concentrate the last few days."
"…Really?" Ignitia shook herself, her head suddenly buzzing as she put down the glass and stayed away from it. "I'm really not joking when I say no one was noticing. You're a hard worker who gets results. Even Terradora appreciates your opinions on matters… less approachable to all others."
"The only dragon she listens to is you, Ignitia. Sometimes your modesty is very grating, merely because it's patronizing."
A long second of silence went by.
Cyrila sighed and put down her glass on the floor.
"…I apologize." She uttered. "I came in here to-…. Tch, you know why I came in here. It isn't fair to take it out on you."
"There's nothing to forgive, sister." Ignitia crossed the room, bowing her head close to Cyrila's and placing a paw on her shoulder. "What we are asked to do every day is so hard. There isn't a dragon in the realms seeing that differently. So do not fret, I've thick enough skin to take any collateral in stride. You can even smile while you do it, if it makes you feel better."
Cyrila's dark expression slowly broke for a sweet little laugh. The Ice Guardian nonchalantly brushed Ignitia off herself and adjusted on the futon. Even ungratefully, she hated it when people touched her.
It had been rumored one of the reasons Cyrila had chased Guardianship and the solitude it entailed, was because none of the Ice Dragon males could stand her egomania.
But it was just a rumor, like many things.
Like how some dragons rumored that Ignitia was the only Guardian of the four who was actually personable and approachable…
-Which was a hot load of crap, Ignitia thought, corking the bottle.
"Noticeable or not, mother's condition keeps me awake at night, and memories of my uncle continue to give me unrest at all hours. I am so… so directionless. I don't know what is right to pursue any longer. And I am tired." Cyrila chuckled. "So so tired…"
SLAM~!
-The door to the office swung open. Ignitia yipped in fright, spilling her wine glass all across her desk, Cyrila just snapped her eyes shut and experienced a brow twitch.
"Oh gods." She could barely be heard whispering.
"Stupendous, outrageous, splendid and prodigious! They all passed!" Volteera cried, her shapely yellow form bouncing like an excited doe into the office. She spread her blue wings wide and beamed at the two of them with amber eyes. "I am so inexorably, fittingly, proudly- oh, and expectantly as well –undoubtedly and-"
"Volteera, how lovely of you to join us." Ignitia sharply preened a wing to cut her off, forcing a grin as she snatched up a handkerchief from a drawer and dabbed at the wine spreading on her desk top.
"Yes, yippee." Cyrila groaned under her breath. She slipped a glass mask on and grinned with full teeth at Volteera from the futon. "Sister, you must have such good news to be in so… chipper a mood. Not that that is unusual."
"Oh yes, so indeed and suitably chipper, happy, excited and accomplished. Very accomplished indeed." Volteera nodded excitedly back for the still opened office door. "Master Bilou just returned the parchments to me, and I have deduced through many hours of stringent filtering that every single one of my students achieved acceptability during the elemental phase of the course!"
"Very nice!" Ignitia smiled, trudging over and shutting the door with her tail. "That was the final trial setting, yes? All of them are now applicable?"
"The whole, entire, complete class." The Guardian of Electricity held her head high, brandishing her blue breast happily. "And so many prime achievers in the bunch! There is one lovely hen named Rava, and she has proven to possess wonderful, illustrious and defined skill."
"Oh, I know her." Ignitia nodded, keeping it to herself that she only knew who Rava was because of the constant disciplinary punishments she received from harassing other females in the dorms. "We're both quite elated to hear about this. It's much better than my own class results, and… Cyrila? How did your roster fair this year?"
"It was evenly split from the crap and crop." Cyrila examined her own talons with a dismissive grunt, refusing to look at Volteera any longer than she had to. "And after going through all those scrolls and records, the day has left me very tired and in need of quiet. Ignitia was providing consul. Ahem."
"Oh! How expeditiously and unanimously splendid!" It went right over Volteera's horns. The Electric Dragoness was like an eager hatchling, eyes big and saucer-like, wings raised in interest. "I hope I wasn't being counterproductive and interrupting…"
"Actually-" Cyrila started to smile.
"I'll join both of you!"
"….*sigh*"
Volteera yanked a cushion without warning from under Cyrila's haunches, making the Ice Dragoness gasp in insult. She set it and herself atop it on the floor, curling her tail around herself with content.
"Do continue with your considerations and discussions, I'll participate when you finish." Volteera chirped, eyes eagerly darting between the two of them.
Ignitia opened her mouth to speak but faltered. Cyrila adjusted to the uneven height on the futon and grumbled, snatching up her glass and draining the rest of it.
"Might I see that?" She asked, pointing at the bottle. When Ignitia slid out of her roundel throne, Cyrila snorted and said: "Just throw it."
Ignitia harrumphed at the snark in her friend's voice, and with a deft lash of her tail, the corked bottle sailed right past Volteera's nose and across the office. Cyrila caught it in her paw with a sharp clink! –of her talons and bit the cork off.
Thhw-WHMP!
She poured a full glass and took a sip.
"Fires hold it better than Ices." Ignitia hummed as she sat back down.
"Leave it." Cyrila waved a paw and drowned her snout in the wine. Volteera watched her, amber eyes darting to the bottle in her claw.
"Marvelous! That's a Crimsonscale Brew if I am not mistaken, which I certainly, definitely and solidly am not. Very refreshing indeed!" Volteera looked at Ignitia. When no one said anything, she slapped her tongue and smiled wider. "Very refreshing."
Cyrila sneered, recoiling like someone had farted in her face. She leaned back into the futon and drained her cup even more.
Volteera's smile experienced a slight, near unnoticeable twitch.
"Cyrila." Ignitia sternly snapped.
The Ice Guardian huffed childishly and nudged the bottle across the floor with her foot. Ignitia gave Volteera a glass and the latter filled it herself. The filling was dainty. Volteera couldn't hold alcohol to save her life and she knew it.
"Thank you." She squeaked, taking a delicate little sip and nursing the glass like it was a pillow. "…Ah, I truly did not catch what both of you were discussing. Might I be informed? I am certain it is quite intriguin-"
"Because it is private." Cyrila growled.
"…Oh." Volteera blinked and looked down at her wine. "…I fully and completely understand and respect your boundaries, sister…"
"Resolutions, you both must have them." Ignitia quickly quipped, her shoulder fins quivering. "The year's been long, and after all this time, I know it's hard to keep the head clear, but I'd love to hear about both of your plans."
"Survive." Cyrila muttered, half paying attention and half staring at the office's door. Her tail was lashing slowly behind her as her patience dried up.
"…Uh, well I-I'm determined to relive my ritual mastery to the fullest. I've found most of my old spellbooks from my henning years." Ignitia giggled, flushing at the humor. "-Both of you must remember those?"
Volteera gave off a timid hum that was meant to be confirmative. Cyrila was silent.
"…Anyway, remastering my own technique can only benefit me. I've found my arcana rusty lately, and I want to better myself." Ignitia explained. "What about you, Volteera? You had a project of your own in the works for quite a while. It was the one with the sand and… the… color?"
"Painted glass." Volteera gave that hum again, her wings drooping. "Yes indeed, I had spent the longest, drawling, extensive periods of time molding that piece to my own sense of taste, and perfection, and accuracy."
"So is it complete?"
"…Ehm, yes."
"Excellent! Perhaps you should take us to your studio and allow us to shower your artistic talents?" Ignitia smiled. "I'm sure it's beautiful. What was the subject matter?"
"Ice."
Cyrila lazily looked up, blinking when she saw Volteera had craned her neck around and was staring right at her.
"I-It was modeled after ice." She stated. "…B-Because really, singularly and honestly, I-I enjoy the crystalline, opalescent, glittering sheen that it-"
"Volteera." Cyrila put her empty cup down and staggered off the futon, her face-scales turning red. "Just shut up."
BM BM BM
-Ignitia's eyes flew open.
The office.
Empty.
The memory.
Ancient. And really really far away.
BM BM
"I'm coming, please be patient." She said robotically, peeling herself off the cushions and onto the floor, staring at where she knew her sister had placed herself between them long ago. The carpeting had a shadow only she could see.
"My lady?" One of the dragon orderlies stood outside the door when she opened it. He looked increasingly apologetic with every one of her exhausted details he took in. "Is this a bad time?"
"Who else is going to solve the problems, a ghost?" Ignitia leaned on the frame and growled. "What the hell happened now?"
"Someone got stuck in the well."
She laughed sourly, making the orderly jump when she punched the door rim.
"Son of a bitch."
{🐉}
There were flashbacks he was getting right now. Black and white. Yin and Yang. How frightening, that worlds could duplicate setups and partners.
But that was a long time ago. Right now there was just high blood pressure and a raging erection that needed dealing with. The only way to quell his sword was to plunge it into a dragoness.
Luckily, two of them were here and very willing.
He tackled Morinth first for obvious reasons, the elated dragoness cackling in excitement before he sealed her chops with a slobbering tongue-kiss that saw her dark horns pressed into the cot to the point of tearing through.
Morinth gave a low volume moan into the Fallen's lips, her emerald eyes rolling back and her black body undulating into him.
Taliopia hadn't had a chance to touch her, like, really touch her in weeks, and the pent-up sex-rage that Morinth was experiencing had been a nagging sensation in the back of her mind for quite a while.
However, when the Fallen had touched her for the first time back at the Dragon Temple… somehow, that silent sickness had gotten a whole lot worse.
Morinth really didn't understand it.
She had been interested in other females her entire life. Even when she was scuttling around the sewers like a bilge rat, all of her more unsavory thoughts and fantasies of the flesh had revolved around other dragonesses. She'd met Taliopia and had pursued her in her first real long term serious relationship. She'd never been touched by a male before this point…
But the Fallen's sinewy limbs, his upright build, the strange tussles of hair on his person and the way he killed Dark Soldiers in battle…
Morinth's loins had been alight. So had Taliopia's. The two of them had just never outright admitted it to one another until earlier this afternoon when they had landed.
"-Yes-!" Morinth howled suddenly, breaking the lock to the Fallen's mouth as his hand wandered down and slipped between her hefty thighs. "-Ohhh yes, right there-! That's… oh that is… simply lovely…~"
Two fingers didn't suffice, so he settled for forming up his hand like he was preparing for a stereotypical Kung-Fu chop, and he slid the whole thing to the knuckle into her quivering trench. Morinth's muscles suckled him warmly and drooled copiously around his fingers. The dragoness writhed as he wiggled the joints and ran circles over her clitoris with his thumbprint.
Taliopia gave off a needy whine and propped herself over the Fallen's back as he worked, her eyes clenched shut and her tongue hanging as she ground her exposed dragon-hole into his back, her nectar running down his tailbone in trails of bronze as the window light caught on them.
The healer's work was complete, and gradually, the remaining dressings had ended up on the floor as she hugged around his ribs, licked the back of his neck and buried her face in his hair.
The Fallen felt his muscles regathering their normal strength, the last lacerations knitting themselves shut, and the bruises dematerializing. The healing potions had finally put an end to his little problem. He didn't have a mirror, but judging by how fresh and kiss-ready his face was, he knew it was back in working order and appearance.
Morinth squealed when he hooked his fingers and began to slide in and out of her, grinding his knuckles into the side of her passage softly. Her wings flapped and her body curled up to press her black breast into him. She mewled happily and lapped at his neck, egging the human on to press as much of himself into her as possible.
"-I-I get a turn too, Morri-poo-" Taliopia whined, biting the Fallen's shoulder and tugging at his arms.
Morinth swatted a few times at his wrists for him to calm down a bit. She crawled past his flank, her thick tail crashing into his ribs before he could blink, sprawling the Fallen out on the cot back first.
"Cheeky that, it looks like we've all been keeping secrets…" Morinth chuckled mintily, craning her haunches on either side of the Fallen's head, she lowered her hips and lifted her tail, exposing her sopping vagina to him. "…I never thougt I'd go male to be honest… What about you, Tali'? No second thoughts, right?"
"MmMMhMMmmmm~." Taliopia muffled. The Fallen gasped.
Taliopia threw herself to sit between his knees and smother his cock. She grabbed his member at the base and began to nibble its tip, quivering and blushing so badly that her blowjob was sloppy and misdirectioned. The Fallen, of course, didn't care about the semantics of it. But Morinth did.
"You've never seen one before, luv'?" She whispered, grunting when her lips met the Fallen's. His arms craned around her meaty haunches and hooked, his jaw undulating as he ate her out and began to drink. "-T-That's alright… N-Neither have I- YES-! Right there… that's… that's it…"
"C-Can I… can I put it-" Taliopia gasped as she slurped away from the human's wettened crown. She jacked his twitching meat-rod off and stared at it in apprehension as the two dragonesses centered it between their noses. "…can I put in my mouth, you think? E-Entirely?"
"Mmf. Mmhmff." The Fallen gave a thumbs up past Morinth's hip. The cot squeaked as she gasped and whined, bending her knees and jamming her cunt into his face with so much mass that she threatened to suffocate him.
"Is he okay?" Taliopia craned her neck.
"Eh, I-If he needs to breathe- OW! –watch it back there, you cheeky wanker! –If he needs to breathe, he'll say so…" Morinth giggled, wriggling her hips and moaning as lewd squelching sounds echoed around the room. "…Oh Ancestors… that's so- so-OH-!"
Morinth even sounded like she was singing when she was orgasming. The Fallen grunted as dragoness fluids ran down his cheeks and pooled behind his neck. Her flower convulsed, milked at his lips and tongue and drooled everywhere. He had no doubt that if he hadn't acted as a sort of plug, that Morinth was a squirter.
It felt like her vagina had liquidly poked him with some invisible finger. God damn…
"I-I don't know, Morri-poo… m-maybe I should try some foreplay and-" Taliopia squeaked when Morinth fell forwards and snatched his dick from her.
"This is foreplay, Talliiiiii'…." Morinth moaned drunkenly. "…Watch, you do it like thi-hmmmffff…"
Morinth gagged as she sank his member past her muzzle to the base, jamming his crown into the top of her snout as her nose pressed into his balls. Taliopia moaned quietly at the sight, her tremors becoming uncontrollable as the cot began to squeak not only from their combined weight, but also from her quivering.
Morinth looked like some kind of draconic sex-queen as she preened her wings, whipped her presenting tail and bobbed her head in the Fallen's groin, sucking, slurping and licking noisily to coincide with his own efforts as he plunged back into her hole without warning.
I can do this. I can be a warrior. A… A dirty dirty warrior…
Taliopia swallowed in one last minute of pause.
What would her mother and father think?
Would they find out?
Did she want them to find out?
Taliopia didn't have any more time to think before Morinth grabbed her horn and yanked her down to join the oral. The medic's serpentine tongue lashed out and constricted around the Fallen's sack as Morinth continued to suck him off. There was so much drool sliding down his crotch that it was impossible to tell whose was whose.
"-Ach-… G-Give it a try…" Morinth moaned, wrenching her eyes shut as she pulled her mouth away. She shivered and locked her thighs, a second orgasm ripping through her stomach and hips. "-Ooooohhhthereitis-AH-!"
Taliopia took the free moment to be bolder and tried to duplicate her lover's motions.
She immediately regretted it.
The poor medic gagged when she slipped the Fallen's entire rod into her snout. She tensed up and refluxed around his twitching meat, kicking mixed dragon gob in every direction through the form of transparent splatters. The Fallen groaned into Morinth's ham-sandwich and bucked his hips up. Taliopia gagged again when the blade punched into the top of her snout.
"…See… i-it isn't so bad, honey…" Morinth weakly laughed. All poor Tali' could do was make a choking noise as she tried to bob. Evidently, she wasn't as good at it as Morinth was, but credit was still due.
Eventually, she slipped the human schlong from her maw and jerked it with a few thrusts, heaving as hers and Morinth's spit dripped from her used mouth.
Slkslkslkslkslkslk
-Oh, that noise of a drool coated cock being wanked.
Morinth gave a singsong note when his hand lashed out and slapped her on the ass loudly.
Wordlessly, Taliopia was left in the dust as Morinth and the Fallen scurried to change positions. The black dragoness spun around and pounced on his chest, ripping open his smaller, puffier mouth and jamming her reptilian tongue down his throat. She moaned as she tasted herself on him, grinding her used draconic pussy into his erection.
Taliopia wandered onto the floor beside the cot, rosy eyes wide as she reasoned letting Morinth take the experimental plunge first. She was after all, the fighter of the two.
"-Guess it doesn't bother you that this was all hanging out a little while ago, huh?" Morinth seductively chuckled, patting her tummy. The Fallen glanced down and his grinding lowered minutely.
A little bit.
Yeah, it did bother him.
But it was derg-puss.
He wasn't refusing.
"…Let me just see him, and… prop and… OH, yes… yes…" Morinth reached between their bellies and worked him inside her, panting like a dog as she slowly sunk further and further down. Taliopia was drooling nearby by the time she watched her darker lover meet pelvis-to-pelvis with the human. Morinth giggled and whipped her tail around. "-H-Haa…. Ha… I think- I like- I like-"
She moaned again and shoved her head into the Fallen's chest, squeezing her eyes shut and rolling her hips.
"-PENIS." She grunted like an animal. "More. Penis."
The Fallen grabbed her waist and snarled, merging their hips in more and more forceful impacts that rocked the cot, thudded its feet on the floor, and wetly caused a slapping noise. All of that though was deafened under Morinth's singsong moans. She really had a set of pipes.
Would someone outside in the rest of the medical wing hear?
Probably. Actually, definitely.
Did the Fallen care?
Fuck no. The derg-vag' plundering train was-a-going and there was no stopping that bitch.
He thrust into her with precise impacts, wiggling her meaty haunches and spattering vaginal fluids all around their merger.
Morinth was in another world as she rutted with the human. Her emerald eyes were upturned for the ceiling and a stupid grin was on her snout. She spread her wings, lifted her tail and drooled in desperation, bringing herself down to meet his upwards stabs again and again and again.
His blade was being driven to the absolute limit of its ability. He could feel her deeper reaches spreading and sucking around him as he penetrated her in spaced, heavy motions. Morinth's body reacted like any other dragoness he'd banged to stupidity. It saw the foreign organ as a welcome invader and spewed all over it gloriously.
Morinth sang shrilly and howled at the ceiling as she slammed down on him one final time, vaginal secretions running down from between her spread labia in boughts, causing his balls and inner thighs to glisten.
The Fallen's huffs deepened. He kept hammering into her, eliciting tiny squeaks from the overstimulated dragoness with each wet slap of their hips. Flames built in his loins and the sensation of heat simmered higher and higher until he reached his own brink. He clawed her supple backside and shoved balls deep into her.
Now this was really new for Morinth.
The dragon moaned and gave off intrigued little sounds as heavy ropes of syrupy liquid bundled and pumped into her stuffed hole. She felt it swim around, run downwards and become packed like wall insulation around his jerking rod inside her.
When she bore her teeth for him and rolled her hips, she felt even more of it spew out and leak past her gaping labia. Cum built up to enough volume that one of his ejaculations kicked, causing a loose string of semen to go airborne and land on the cot to join the rest of the stained mess.
The Fallen groaned and slumped into the cot, spent and glistening with sweat and bodily fluids. Morinth growled approvingly and licked at the salty runoff on his neck, stroking her claws over his skin-covered shoulders and marveling at his alien anatomy.
"…I think…" She chortled, nipping at his chin. "…We're going to keep you~."
"…3rd of Marrrrch…" The Fallen slurred.
A light shlicking caught their attention.
Looking over, Morinth and the Fallen witnessed Taliopia with her back on the floor, legs spread, tail whipping as she went to town on herself. She fingered her winking, rose-colored slit as her eyes darted all over the mess and the connection between their legs.
"-W-What does it feel like, Morri-poo?" She gasped, and bit her lower chop. "-I-It looks w-warm…"
Morinth hummed in amusement, pecking the Fallen on the lips before sliding him out of her. He grunted as his expended member slouched over, dripping and twitching, drenched in its own cream, Morinth's cuntsyrup and dragon gob.
"…It's filling is what it is…" Morinth said, moaning when she rubbed her scaly belly and a small downpour of mixed fluids tumbled out of her gaping entrance and landed on the cot. "…My Tali-wali… y-you must try human flavor…"
"-C-Can I…?" Taliopia squeaked, looking hopefully at the Fallen. She gasped when she saw that he had risen to half-height and was staring at her like a hungry predator would a fresh slab of meat. "Fallen?"
The human carefully slid out of the cot, stumbling as his own legs failed him. He wandered past Morinth who took to laying back in the cold stained sheets and fingering herself as she watched the messy goop of their lovemaking seep between her talons.
Never touched before by a male.
And she never would be. Not by another dragon male. All that was on her mind was her newfound addiction to human cock.
Taliopia gave off a little 'Eeep!' –when the Fallen's hands gently took up her hips, and he lifted her to her feet on the floor.
He directed her like a puppeteer posing his figurine. Turning her around, easing her two steps forwards, lifting her forepaws so she could grip the edge of the cot, using his foot to spread her hind legs.
"…O-Oh my…" Taliopia blushed pure crimson and chewed on her chops, rosy eyes cast in a backward, uncertain stare past her spread wings and sinewy neck. The Fallen slipped a hand under her heavy-based white tail and peeled the fifth limb up and over, exposing the timid healer's golden valley to him in all its drooling magnificence.
He sniffed the pheromones and allowed his eyes to dilate.
Ho boy.
This was fresh derg-puss. Taliopia was ripe and very new, despite her time with Morinth.
At least, very new to males.
"-U-Uhm- Fall-EN-!" She yipped mid-sentence when he slid two fingers up and down her quivering, rose-colored slit in preparation. "-C-Can I ask you something? B-Before you…"
He grunted in affirmation, rubbing her thick haunches and groping her cheeks impatiently.
"Tell him, Talliiiii', he won't hurt you…" Morinth sang nearby.
"W-Well… I… I kinda' like… I like… uhm…" Taliopia swallowed some bile and coughed. "…I was wondering if you c-could… uhm…"
"She wants you to stick it in her cheeky bum." Morinth chirped, wing pointing at the second entrance above the primary. "My Tali's always fancied a good sticking with some toys up that alley."
Taliopia blushed harder and hid her face in the rim of the cot, embarrassed.
The Fallen grunted again and patted her on the thighs. He reoriented his crown, and, with an experimental prod, Taliopia shot back up to full height when she felt him press.
"-O-OH MY~!" She yipped, a claw clapping over her snout. She muffled a moan as his already very Morinth-lubed head slipped deftly into the scrunched gates of her anus and spread her ring-muscle.
The Fallen huffed and ground his teeth.
Mother duck.
That was some tight shit.
He hadn't had tailsex in months. He'd forgotten how much more taxing it was in the initial stages.
Though, even drunk on arousal, he was still concerned about hurting the poor medic. He rubbed her flanks and worked the rest of his length in one bit at a time, waiting until Taliopia stopped shivering and gasping.
He knew she was ready when the dragoness cast her head back and gave off a shrill whine. She looked past her own tail and stuffed one of her claws' talons in her mouth. The Fallen hooked his hands on her feral love handles and gave his hips a good thrust.
Schlp
-Morinth giggled when Taliopia's ass gave off a slurp as the rest of his length tunneled in.
Taliopia's reaction was immediate.
She cried out.
It wasn't in pain, but the sound was so unlike her normally timid demeanor. It was much more aggressive, and free. The Fallen liked it.
Leaning his belly into her tail, he began a slow pattern of dragging himself in and out of her, gaining traction when Taliopia thrust back. Skin and scales clapped. Taliopia built up another series of squeaks until a sharp wail pierced the air. Her vocalizations were more spaced, not as frequent, but louder. The Fallen liked that too.
Settling back on his legs, the Fallen craned his chin down and hammered the white dragon's jiggly backside, jerking her with each hit and rocking her on her haunches. Taliopia cried and wailed every few moments, hiking her tail as high as it could go and spreading her legs as wide as possible. Anything to bear her tailhole for him as he used it.
Morinth slid over and caressed her chin. She eased the moaning dragoness up as the Fallen fucked the daylights out of her, and locked her in a passionate snout-kiss. The Fallen felt himself bottom out as he observed the feminine tongue-slapping, the two reptiles purposefully craning an eye in his direction as they made out. He scrunched his eyes shut and started ramming Tali' even harder.
The healer wailed again and tore away from Morinth, shoving her forehead into the cot and rocking back against him, her white, scaly haunches wobbling with each of his stabs.
The Fallen felt his balls start to well up. The quick groans building in his throat weren't his exact willing forte, but he couldn't even think straight enough to counter them as he plunged into Tali's tailhole.
Plat plat plat plat
-He leaned down and clamped his teeth on the side of her thick tail base, bottoming out one last time and flooding Taliopia's ass with his doomed children. Quite embarrassing noises etched out of him as the white dragoness' muscles milked him for all he was worth, cum soon dripping down her groin and pattering onto the ground.
He grabbed and flipped her onto her back, Taliopia giving a tense cry as she spread her wings for him and gazed lustily into his eyes. He fell on her and locked his mouth as best and messily as he could with her snout. Tongues slapping and teeth clicking. Taliopia couldn't blink her eyes at the same time as she melted into the room's floor and worshipped his attentions.
"… Wasn't it nice, my love?" Morinth peaked over the cot and smiled down at them. "Cheeky that: Spyra's been holding out on us."
Taliopia considered her lover for a moment, and then, as if her current stance was threatened, she covetously glared at the Fallen and snatched him up in her forepaws, embracing him and wrapping her thighs around his hips.
"Mine." She muttered, shielding his tired form with her wings and tail. "Mine."
"What?" Morinth's smile faded, and her tail whipped.
"Mine."
"What did you say?"
"MINE."
"Oh no you don't, my doctoring, toy-stealing 'ness…"
The Fallen popped his head out from Taliopia's limbs and blinked.
Uh-oh.
{🐉}
"Start forming coherent sentences, or I swear to fucking god I'm lighting you on fire."
Evidently, threats ruined the possibility of business no matter who you were. Having a lack of patience for a drake who had a lisp doubly exacerbated that impact.
After the last incident, all the stall owners on that street closed shop and refused to even humor her browsing. Moles walking around started avoiding her. People stared. When it became too much, she took her foul mood to the skies and had been flying around ever since, looking for…
…something.
Anything, really.
Anything just to take her mind off of him.
Spyra zipped around the curve of a spire and landed on the edge of a gargoyle-lined habitation roof, her gaze falling from the golden and blue afternoon sky to the sparsely crowded intersection just below her. She adjusted her talons on the stonework rim and settled like a bird to a perch, huffing angrily under her breath.
Her luck.
The first guy she shacks up with and he's a hareming interdimensional warlord who can't keep his prick leashed.
She supposed she should've known to begin with.
Actually, she was a bit of a moron to not have seen it earlier. All the touching and flirting with other 'nesses? Where had she been? In denial? Fuck that, that was for abused loser-whores sucking empty bottles and toting fatherless hatchlings.
Despite the circumstances, nothing he had said to her in that little rant of his was outright wrong. She was really smart. She had to have been in order to survive roaming the untamed southern wilderness. None of that really mattered to her right now, though. She was just really pissed off and needed to hit something.
Why was life like this?
She'd spent her whole life wanting to get away from her village.
Now all she wanted was one of the Mayfly Shrine's burlap dummies so she could rip the thing to shreds and burn the shreds and then piss on the shreds' ashes and then start screaming about how fucked the shreds were and-
She shivered, steam leaking from her nose.
God damn it.
Rawr! She was mad! Capital M MAD.
She needed to hit something.
Right fucking now.
Because if she didn't, then all the dragons' fears about her becoming a second Malefora would turn out to be true when she rampaged through the city and started burning shit.
Something hittable.
Where.
….Hmm….
No, not there. She had sunken to some lows, but something about beating the snot out of an old man was just improper.
Nah, not there either. She liked kittens too much.
Nope. That Mole was fat enough to have his own orbit. She wasn't touching that greasy, flabby crap.
…Wait a second…
She craned on her perch to get a better gander at someone trotting down a sideroad between two atrium complexes.
…Was that…?
Oh, perfect.
There was something she could hit.
Without a word, Spyra slipped off the edge of the roof and glided over the intersection. She whipped around the edge of a building, skidded to a halt on the cobblestone, and then reared back her fist as soon as she got close enough.
Corrinthol only had a second to let his eyes bug out of his skull before the purple fist crashed into his nose with a solid crack!
The drake screamed like a little girl and hurled onto his back on the street, rolling around and wailing as he grabbed his snout.
" -AghhAHHHH-! What the hell-?!" He screeched, and a few wandering passersby rushed down separate ways to avoid what they thought was some gang-related street mugging. "-Why do you people do this to me-?! AHAHHHHHHHH-!"
"Sorry." Spyra hissed, wagging her paw. "Nothin' personal, it was hit you or someone innocent."
"I didn't do anything!"
"You're a complete bitch, that's a crime enough, son." She flapped her wings and turned her snout up at him, harrumphing. "Anyway, that was all I wanted. Thanks for having such a punchable face, I owe you… like… I dunno', a pat on the back. At some later date. Even though I'll probably forget. But, uh, not my problem. Anyway, see ya'."
She spun around and spread her wings, preparing to fly off and continue her temper-tantrum on the rooftops as she had been doing. However, she paused, thinking for a moment as Corrinthol's pained sobs echoed around the now empty street.
Hmm.
Spyra folded her membranes and looked back and down at the mewling pile of snot that was Corrinthol. He had rolled onto his side and was just rocking back and forth in torture, giving off these donkey-like sounds.
…Well…
She ran the thought over her tongue a few times. It would probably be his death warrant.
But nobody liked Corrinthol.
So where was the loss?
…Yeah. Yeah she could play this game.
"Say, friend, what are ya' even doing around here?"
"I LIVE HERE!"
"Huh. I had no idea. I meant on this street, you whiny sack of bricks! You better give me some straight answers, Crimsonia-Motherina-Fuckfacia or I'll jam my foot up your ass and tickle the backs of your eyeballs with my fuckin' toes."
Corrinthol sobbed in absolute terror, holding his bleeding snout and trying to wriggle away from her like a tortured earthworm.
"-H-Have mercy-!" He screamed. "-Ohhoooo-god-m-mother-mother help me-"
"C'mon big-boy, you're comin' with me." Spyra snickered, grabbing the lashing tip of his tail in her teeth and yanking.
Corrinthol left claw-lines in the cobblestone as he was dragged off into whatever the purple beastess had planned.
It couldn't have been anything good.
{🐉}
"Foot cream?"
Spyra was deadpanned. She stared at Corrinthol long and hard as the bloodied drake teetered on his own haunches uncomfortably on the other side of the table. His eyes were darting around in an effort to stare at anything that wasn't her or one of the other denizens of the open-air eatery. Though the prior terrified him more than strangers' judgment.
A wide, street sprawled to their right, filled with bustling crowds and a few large trade-wagons that trundled down clearer sections via teams of strung ponies. All kinds of heads were turned in her direction, but Spyra ignored all of them, her purple eyes fixated on the pathetic drake in the opposite chair.
"Can I offer you anything, ma'am? On the house, via orders from the manager." A Mole waiter spoke like Corrinthol wasn't even there, his attention fixed on the legendary Purple Dragon of legend.
"Yeah, sure." Spyra lingered her eyes on Corr' a bit longer and then looked at the Mole. "Gimme' the sweetest, sugar-filled, unhealthiest drink you got."
"How about a Pop-And-Cream float-?"
"Hit me."
The waiter scampered off, and Spyra returned her attention on Corrinthol.
"Dude, don't get blood on the table, use a napkin." She growled, tossing a wad of them from the stack in the center of the table. Corrinthol flinched like she had hit him, and snatched up a clawful before wiping at the blood trails drying up from his nostrils. "So, run this by me again…"
"I-It isn't-" He snorted, and licked his snout, wincing in pain. "-for me, it's… it's for my grandrake…"
"The fuck is that, a kind of rash?"
"No, my grandrake, my father's father? H-How do you not know that-" Corrinthol paused as he finished wiping his snout. "…Of course you wouldn't know that. You're from the south, how could I forget?"
"Born and bred with spunk." She clicked her fangs and winked, putting her forepaws' elbows on the tabletop. "That's a pretty rough day if you ask me. Just getting back from an adventure like yours, on your way to get gran-daddy some bunion-cream that he's gonna' make your sorry arse' rub on his foots, and then gettin' mugged on the way there. Damn, dude. I feel for ya'."
"You're insane." He glowered, playing with the bloodstained ball of napkins in his claw. "What am I even doing here? I think I need to see the healers… I… I think you broke my snout-tip…"
"Nah, just a nasty hit. Trust me, I know a broken nose when I see one." She tapped a talon on her purple snout for emphasis. "And you're here because I said for you to be. I'm just thinkin', mulling some options over, and trying to decide if I can and want to use you for something."
"U-Use me?" He snorted, glaring at her. "W-What else would you use me for besides a punching bag? Not that I've done anything to deserve this kind of treatment…"
"Oh-ho, we can have a long and nasty talk about why the end of that sentence is horseshit, but uh…." Spyra snickered sourly. "Forget all of that."
"F-Forget-? No! No! I'm not forgetting that. I'm not forgetting anything you did to me! Beating me up, letting that alien strangle me, and use me as a dynamite mule and-"
"Order up!" The Mole waiter scurried back over and placed a high-necked, quietly fizzing mug in front of Spyra. Despite her horrid mood, the feisty dragoness found herself ogling the treat hungrily as she traced patterns across gooey lumps of some alien, brown and white-colored material topped with darker brown… stuff, over a liquid of caramel-color. "Will there be anything else?"
"Holy shit." Spyra gawked.
"…C-Can I get one too…?" Corrinthol blinked at the mug.
"Certainly! That'll be twenty gold pieces."
"-Wha'- but- she gets it for free!" He pointed at Spyra accusingly. "That's not fair!"
"Life, dude, it steps on the poor." Spyra wing-shrugged and took a metal spoon the waiter handed to her. "I'm good for now, sir, thank you."
The waiter bowed and scampered off. Spyra snickered and stabbed the gooey stuff with the spoon, dragging off back a lump and examining it as it ran down the handle's shaft.
"What is this stuff anyway?"
"…Ice cream…" Corrinthol growled dejectedly, curling up and pouting in his chair.
"Huh. Looks like a more appetizing rendition of the gunk we used to pull out of my dad's chitin-creases when he was sick with rot-shell that one time." She quirked a purple brow. "Bottoms up I guess." –She popped the biteful in her snout, shivering at how cold it was.
Then, her face lit up.
"Oh my god." She gasped, slapping her own cheek and marveling at the float. "…I-I've discovered something better than sex."
"…You would know wouldn't you…" Corrinthol quivered as he struggled to hold in his seething frustration, snorting as his snout started bleeding again. "Can I go now? I'm not going to sit here and watch you eat a whole float. I don't have time for this."
"I'm not done with you yet, so you'd best sit down, 'cause I will scoop your eyes out with this." She said, her mouth full as she pointed the spoon at him. "Now, about why I punched you in the face…"
"I don't really care."
"-I'm in a particularly bad mood and am looking for assistance to get back at someone."
"I. Don't. Really. Care-"
"-That someone is the Fallen."
"….Go on." Corrinthol dabbed at his snout and shifted in his chair.
"I might have an idea set up, but it involves a lot of risk. In other words: whoever I get to do this needs to be unimportant and expendable. You get the gist?"
"…Not… really?"
"Lemme' ask you, Corr', you're a single, unattractive and lackluster guy, so that means if you're one of the few of your kind to have a social circle, it's a circle of other single, unattractive and lackluster guys…" Spyra explained, sipping the float. "Have any friends lookin' to chase some purple tail?"
Corrinthol's eyes bugged out almost as hard as they had when she had reared back to slam his face in.
"You really are insane. He'll kill everyone involved." He said. "And why would I help you? My father knows what you and that stupid alien did to me. He's going to make you both pay, purple dragon or not."
"I get that you have daddy-reliance issues, but just hear me out." Spyra dumped a quarter of the float messily into her mouth, shivering as she fought through the resulting brain freeze. "-Don'tchya' wanna' get back at that stupid alien? That big, stupid, sexy, irresistible, crazy warrior badass alie-"
She snapped her jaws shut and drowned the snowball in another huge sip. Her cheeks bulged with pop and soda as she swallowed.
"Just give me a yes or no."
"…Okay, here's my answer..." Corrinthol snorted, leaning over the table closer to her, earning an unimpressed brow-raising from the dragoness as she chewed more ice cream. "Screw you."
"That's exactly what I need one of your friends to try and do."
"The answer's still no. I hope the two of you crash, burn and rot. I don't think you get it: I'm the preeminent son of an officer. Of the Warfangian Military. Do you even know what that means? If I shit in the street, that shit has more value than you." He snapped. "And while you sit there gorging on food you didn't earn telling me I'm a single, unattractive drake, why don't you tell that to the females I've already nested?"
"If they actually are flesh and blood and not figments of your weak imagination, I'd think the words small and fast would be pretty universally common among them." She sniggered.
"This coming from the hen who let herself get rutted by a monster from space."
"Look dude, we can go back and forth about our incomparable love lives, but I'm askin' you to go through with a common cause. I know you hate the Fallen more than you do me." Spyra tongued her spoon. "Seeing as that's the case, I can't believe you'd actually pass an opportunity up like this. So what do you say?"
Corrinthol rolled his jaw and winced at the terrible pain he'd been dealt. He sat back in the dining chair and hugged himself with his umber wings, face scrunched in either discomfort or thought, probably both.
"…I-I might know some drakes…"
"See that? I knew you'd come around." She slurped the last of the float up and smacked the empty mug on the table with a refreshed exhale. He gawked at how fast she's eaten it, wondering if she had even tasted it. "Go grab some hot-headed crotch-thinkin' dirtbag and come back. I'll tell you both what to do then."
"What are you going to do about my nose?" He narrowed his eyes. She stared at him.
"Go slap a bandaid on it. The fuck do I look like, your mother?"
"How about some compensation for pain and suffering!"
"If I'm paying up for that, you better expect to be on the streets for what me and all the other people you interact with are gonna' take. You breathing is pain and suffering. Y'know, you're one of those dragons that if they were allowed to reproduce, I actually think the world would catch on fire. By the way: you can keep the change, bitch."
Corrinthol snarled and slammed his claws on the table.
"Is there a problem here?"
Both dragons looked over to see a yellow and white-speckled dragoness stepping closer to the table. She was flanked by a white and blue drake with gray wings and horns, the latter of which numbered four. Her eyes were a striking yellow and her own creamy horns were curled outwards like those of a ram. She looked quite austere. Pretty.
Spyra rolled her mandible.
"What do you want, Rava?" Corrinthol slumped back in his chair in defeat. "I'm having enough of a bad day without old classmates showing up..."
"What happened to your nose, Corr'?" She ignored him, squinting at the dried blood blending with his scales.
"Talk to the purple-"
"Some sociopath ran down the street and hit him in the face with a brick." Spyra shrugged. Corrinthol's jaw flew open. "What? It's the truth. That guy was fast as lightning, dude..."
"B-But you-!"
"We're the liaison appointed by the Council to escort the Fallen and Spyra during public outings." Rava said very officially, interrupting them. Spyra immediately determined that in addition to being pretty, she was a stuck-up elitist, and thus she didn't like her even more. "Where is the Fallen exactly?"
"Hell if I knew." Spyra rolled her eyes. "Maybe he's off banging that black and red homewrecking slut. Her and not me. God damn it."
Rava stared at her like she was out of her mind.
"…I'm getting out of here." Corrinthol sneered, grunting as he hobbled down from his chair and towards the street, a wing over his snout. "Stay away from me, Spyra. My father's hearing about this too."
It was an act. At least the first part. Just so that Rava and her friend here had no further suspicions.
"Yeahyeah…" Spyra mumbled, picking up her float mug and worming her tongue around the inside to lap up all the stuff on the sides. She glanced at Rava and the other dragon. "…Well? Are you both just gonna' stand there and attract flies, or are you gonna' be my new court jesters and do a fancy dance?"
The drake chuckled and Rava growled.
"I am Rava, soldier of Warfang, and this is Windshear, soldier of Warfang." Rava used her tail to point and point.
"Oh, awesome, it's introductions hour. Ahem. I am Spyra, queen of all angry bitches and ice cream. Nice to meet ya'." She smacked her empty mug back down and glowered at the two of them. "So what, they're paying you to stand around and stare at me like a bunch of tards all day? You people are fucked up."
"Are you always this abrasive and vulgar?"
"If you're askin' that question, you already know the answer." Spyra grinned a little, her purple tail flicking between her legs as she lounged. "At least it's a nice day though, lovely weather, friendly faces, promiscuous aliens..."
"Here might be a question less offensive to you: where is the Fallen?" Rava was struggling to keep her temper under control. It made Spyra giggle.
Little button pusher I am…
"Like I said, I have no idea. Didjya' check the medical wing in the castle? He was supposed to visit Morinth and… Taliopia…" A look suddenly dawned on Spyra's face. She stood out of her chair and spread her wings, startling the two soldiers. "I gotta' go."
"Wait just a second-"
FWOOSH~!
-Spyra was already zipping up and away.
Rava closed her mouth and stomped her paw.
"And I didn't want to believe it when they said she was a foul-mouthed little shit." She muttered.
"Are we going after her or the alien?" Windshear asked.
"The alien, he's the more present risk. He's not even the same species. Come on." Rava spread her wings. "Let's follow her suggestion."
{🐉}
The doors were closed and guarded. She doubted anyone was going to let her in without trying to talk to her, get her attention, hound her, like everyone had done earlier during her first visit.
Spyra was a ballistic 'ness on a mission.
So, she flew through a window.
It was closed.
Csshhhhh~! –the glass shattered and a purple, rolling ball of scales thwacked feet-first onto the hallway floor in the middle of the cloud of shards. Startled gasps from a pair of Moles at the end of the hall went ignored. Spyra snorted and used her horns to open a door leading out into the greater county hall.
Slam~!
-Most people would have had a very difficult time getting the attention of an entire chamber like that in one go. But the thundering report of the door rapping the wall was enough to get every single snout and whiskered nose in the joint to turn towards her.
Spyra stomped through them in an enraged bustle. When a document keeper failed to get out of her way fast enough, she walked through him, sending the poor rodent man tumbling in a cloud of cast loose leaf and a startled yelp.
"Ah! There's the second hero I wanted to meet- OOF-!" Councilor Asden's fat cheeks puffed as a powerful, purple paw compressed the rolls of his great chest and sifted the fat drake over like he weighed nothing. "…Talk about the hot-headed shoulder. Spyra? Something must be very wrong, eh?"
He turned to look at Starbrun who had been chatting with him idly just seconds ago.
"Something must be very wrong." Asden hissed.
Starbrun closed his chops and glanced at Spyra's back, and then Asden's face.
The chubby councilor twitched, evidently spooked, pointing at her with his eyes.
"...Fine, I'll do it." Starbrun snapped, grumbling as he jogged on all fours down the hall after her. "Spyra? Might I speak with you for a moment? Find out what the problem is? Spyra? …What are all of you looking at? There's nothing to see here, so be back to your business." He barked around the chamber.
Asden twiddled his talons and clicked his tongue as Starbrun vanished around a corner.
"It's good gossip." He reasoned with himself sweatily. "Can't pass that tasty treat."
"Spyra!" Councilor Starbrun's voice called from down the stairs. Spyra had already stomped through the big red doors a story up, throwing them open with a slash of her tail.
WHAM~!
"Step aside, bitches." She snarled. A healer dragoness went pale as a ghost and fainted in one of the lobbies.
"Spyra, what is the meaning of this? -Oh, Ancestors!" Starbrun parted the doors, gasped, and hurried over to the fallen female on the floor, waving a paw in her face. "Ma'am? Are you alright?"
"Stand clear, I know CPR!" Asden waddled over, licking his pudgy, drool-slicked chops. The nurse spontaneously awoke and shrieked before flinging herself away and sprinting down a hall like a rabid squirrel.
Right there.
Spyra bustled down the hall until she found the door she was looking for. There was already a small crowd gathered outside of it, and judging from the present flushes on the dragonesses' faces and the appalled slack-jaws of the males, she knew why.
"Patient confidentiality my tail." She sneered, rearing back a hind paw and kicking the door open dead-center with a thunderous bang. "You're in the shit now, you 'ness hogging alien piece of-"
Spyra recoiled.
"…J-Just a little bit more, Tali'… oh-YES… like that~… ohhhh just like that…" Morinth's tongue was hanging out as she rolled her hips, huffing and wedging something in her crotch before wriggling and grinding.
The black dragoness had her meaty ass in the air, cheeks flattened against Taliopia's contrastingly white colored backside, their tails were intertwined and twitching, their gaping, very clearly used pussies mashed together and sopping their wonderful drools together in swapped fem-nectar.
Squished wetly between those draconic vaginas was Little Fallen, twitching, wretching, its movements mimicking the exhausted vocalizations of its owner as he reclined in the medical cot and clawed a thigh on each dragoness as they worked him to completion.
"…I-Is that it, Morri-poo? I-Is he-" Taliopia looked half-dead, drooling in the cushion as she craned her head over and shook her backside, undulating her hips and grinding her opening in an up and down sloppy motion. The schlicking was loud enough that it echoed in the hallway outside.
"-Almost there- Almost there…" Morinth panted. "-Ooohhh thereitis-~! OH~!"
The Fallen became guttural as the two dragons squeezed their groins together and lifted their tails in eerily trained unison. His pink-headed crown peaked out of the squishy black and white folds and started spitting. Fresh bands of semen arced in the air and slapped in disorganized, tentacle-like patterns over the undersides of their tails, their groins and their scaly asses. Morinth was chuckling as she mashed her cheeks together and wiggled her hips, effectively creating a lewd sandwich.
"…See, Tali'? Everything can be solved with a little diplomaaacccyyyy~."
"-I-I wanna-" Taliopia gasped, swinging around and flecking human-jizz on the floor. "I wanna' stick it in my girlie-hole next."
"Yeah, Tali', get your confidence going! That's my doctor-missy it is-!"
Morinth's wide horn to horn smile slid off her face the moment she glanced and then stuck on the room's doorway.
Spyra was staring back at her.
So were at least twenty or thirty other people who had all gathered outside in the hall to see what all the commotion was about.
So was Councilor Asden who had turned pinker than a rose.
If it were possible for Starbrun's jaw to detach from his snout and hit the floor, it would have.
Morinth clapped a claw over her mouth, and squeaked, suddenly sounding like Taliopia.
Ironically, the latter herself glanced over her hips at the doorway. The medic twitched, giggled, and rolled off the cot before collapsing on the floor in a leaking, unconscious heap, out like a light.
The only person who spoke in the next few seconds was, of course, the Fallen.
"….Oh-spyywha-thankgodyer-here…." He slurred, a finger waving in the air. "…I-I needyerhelp…to…toshutthedoor…"
Spyra's eye twitched.
"...soifyou...could...coulddothat...that'dbe...that'dbegreat...thankyoudear..."
"HA!" Councilor Asden howled, his flab jostling. "You people are absolutely fucking in-sane, and I love it!"
{🐉}
