Chapter 19: Siren’s Song

The sky was vast and blue and the sea rolled on beneath it from horizon to horizon. Ada stood at the prow of the ship, wind ruffling her hair, and she licked the salty ocean air from her lips.

She gripped the bowsprit in one hand and leaned over the edge of the boat, her other hand out and floating on the wind. It was almost like flying and it made her nearly as giddy.

They’d been on the sea for a week now and were just one more day’s travel away from the island chain where Pasco’s pirate nation was based. Ada still couldn’t believe that the whole crew was so accepting of her dragon form. Pasco had explained that it was no surprise, a friendly dragon being seen as a sign of immense luck and fortune, especially to the superstitious sailors.

She had even transformed on deck a couple of times, taking a short and exhilarating flight around the ship. But flying felt so good that she found herself edging just from the sensation of it, and so she’d been forced to cut her flights short. Pasco promised to teach her how to swim when they reached the island nation so that she could take a flight over the water without it being quite so dangerous.

Until then, she could stand at the bowsprit and feel the wind like this, and it felt enough like flying but didn’t threaten to send her to a watery grave. She was more than happy to sit at the prow of the ship and watch mile after mile of waves roll by.

A rock formation emerged at the horizon, still distant. It slowly grew clearer and clearer. The crew hurried behind her and Ada felt a bit of guilty pleasure that she was the only one onboard who didn’t have a job to do.

Pasco came up behind her, apparently having briefly extricated himself from his duties.

Ada smiled at him, then returned to her curious appraisal of the rock formation. Beyond it, now just at the horizon, was a green smudge of land.

“Ready for some more rope play?” Pasco said.

Ada savored a little ripple of thrill. “Gah, are you trying to kill me?”

“I am actually trying to keep you alive, this time. That outcropping there? That’s home to the largest population of sirens this side of the sea.”

“Oh? You hadn’t mentioned before.” Perhaps it was just an excuse to tie her up? She certainly wouldn’t mind that being the case.

“Well, unsurprisingly, most pirates have at least a little bit of siren blood. The more siren’s blood you have, the less susceptible you are. It’s neither accident nor coincidence that the headquarters of the pirate kingdom is adjacent to the sirens’ foremost habitat. Helps keep out unwanted visitors.”

“I thought all the crashing ships stuff was just fairy tales.”

“Folks say the same about dragons.”

“Fair enough. But what does this have to do with rope play?”

“Well, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that you don’t have any siren’s blood at all. Which would make you, well, quite susceptible. I should have said something earlier, but I’d honestly forgotten until Missa reminded me.” He blushed.

He looked so cute when he was embarrassed.

“Well, aren’t you allies or whatever? You can just make sure they don’t go too crazy.”

“It’s you going crazy I’m worried about,” Pasco said. “Like, jump off the ship and drown because you forgot to swim kind of crazy.”

“Well, I don’t even know how to swim to begin with,” Ada said.

“Exactly.”

“I’ll be fine,” Ada said, knowing full well that she would not be, but wondering if she could spur Pasco into being authoritative. She leaned slightly further off the ship, now looking for details on the rock. Real, live sirens? They were supposed to be gorgeous creatures with human top halves and fishes’ tails.

Pasco put his hand over her shoulder and pulled her back.

“Come with me, now,” he commanded.

A wave of heady pleasure washed over her, and she acquiesced. Though, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to still be a little bit sassy.

“Okay fine. But I’m not convinced this isn’t just an excuse to tie me up.”

Ten minutes later, Ada was tied in classic fashion to the fore mast of the ship. Even though she was still clothed, she felt trussed up on display for all the crew to see, and she loved that.

Pasco had agreed to not entirely ruin her fun and at least give her a view of the sirens’ perch as they sailed by. She was securely tied from her shoulders, all the way down to her toes.

Ada wiggled, and then attempted to escape in earnest. She was fully trapped. That itself made her heart flutter a bit, but she trusted Pasco.

“Alright, one last step,” Pasco said, lifting up a ball gag.

“Oh yeah? I see how it is.” Ada mock pouted.

“Look,” Pasco said, pressing the ball of the gag between Ada’s lips. She complied. “This is for your own safety. You can be very persuasive, we all know.”

Missa and Forte were nearby and nodded solemnly, and Ada rolled her eyes dramatically but was secretly flattered. And, given that she really had been ready to go on a fiery rampage that night in the port city, she begrudgingly admitted to herself that Pasco’s caution was warranted.

Pasco leaned in closer to buckle the gag behind her head. “Plus,” he whispered in her ear, “I want to see you drool.”

Heat fluttered down Ada’s spine and she huffed at him, which was all she could do. Though the gag also hid the fact that she didn’t have any sort of clever quip to come back with, so it wasn’t all bad.

Then, she heard it.

A beautiful note, a woman’s voice, drifting over the breeze. They were still a good ways off and shouldn’t have been able to hear a single voice that clearly.

Another voice joined the first, weaving a lilting melody that was utterly captivating. Ada’s mind melted into it, riding the notes like a dinghy bobbing on the waves of the open ocean.

But then there was a flash of heat, like distant lightning on the horizon, a thrilling and threatening tone that quickened Ada’s heartbeat.

Though the crew were still out and about on the ship, they were somber, careful. A man with red hair and a broad build stepped towards the prow, but his friend grabbed his arm and he settled back. They both had growing erections pulsing against their trousers.

Ada tried to observe more of the crew, but her attention was once again pulled back to the song and the rocky outcrop, like the needle of a compass pulled towards North.

The song grew louder, more insistent, pleading. Ada wanted to comply, to move towards it, to go deeper into the music.

She strained against the ropes. Pasco was just trying to ruin her fun! The sirens couldn’t possibly be dangerous — they were sexy, and sex was fun! All manner of arguments tumbled through her mind and she chewed on the gag. But she couldn’t quite say why she wanted to go, she wasn’t even feeling particularly aroused, she just… wanted to.

Her mind’s little boat paddled forward as the waves of music grew larger, swelling then dropping, cresting and crashing dangerously close. Another flash of heat like lightning — but now, right above her.

Then the desire kicked in. It started as a flush of heat down her body, a quickening of her heart rate. Her mouth watered around the gag, and as she leaned her head forward, straining against the ropes, drool dripped off the outside of the gag.

Her sex was just as wet and now throbbing. Her own wetness started to run down her leg and the sensation made her mouth water even more, saliva flowing around the gag and running down her chin.

Some part of her had expected the sirens to bring forth sexy visions, or to present themselves topless and gorgeous, or to otherwise provide some reason for the arousal — but there was none.

It was just the music, just the song, making her this way. She trembled against the ropes, half trying to escape, half just shaking.

Ada was vaguely aware of Pasco chuckling next to her, saying something like “I told you so” but she couldn’t think, couldn’t take her focus away from the music.

There were dozens of voices now, and they all wanted her. They asked for her breasts to ache, and they did. They asked for her sex to spasm, and it did. They asked for her toes to curl under, gripping at the wood, begging for some kind of release, and they did.

She was panting, heart racing, now hanging in the ropes as her legs gave out. The music swelled. Drool flowed freely down her chin, wetness down her legs, soaking her inner thighs and pooling at her feet.

Words flowed around her again, but she could barely comprehend them.

“… even more susceptible than I thought…”

“…are you sure she’ll be alright?”

“She’s secure.”

She couldn’t see anymore — at least, not the boat. She was floating in a dark, hot ocean. There was a little spark of light just ahead of her. The ocean was the song, the song was the ocean, and the little spark of light was the heat in her body.

She clenched her sex again and the spark brightened. She pressed her legs together, wiggled in the ropes. It was barely any sensation, but it would be enough. Gods, it had to be enough. If she didn’t come she would die. She couldn’t let the dark ocean swallow her, she needed that little spark of light. She needed to come, and then she’d be a dragon, and go wherever she wanted…

The dragon! The shock brought her back to herself. If she climaxed, there’s no way the ropes would hold her. She’d be gone. Surely, Pasco’s sense of security came from the confidence that there was no way that she could come this way, and had she not been so busy being coy, she would have reminded him that he needed to tie her so that she couldn’t press her legs together. She tried to return to her body’s awareness, to find his eyes, to somehow indicate to him that she was perilously close to orgasm.

But, all she could do was drool around the gag.

Gods she was so wet. She tried to stop wiggling, but then her body just trembled, which had the same effect. Every part of her body was now alight with erotic sensation — her tongue cupping the ball of the gag, the ropes pressing into her breasts, the fabric of her shirt over her nipples, the smooth wood of the mast against her ass.

But, she resisted. She had to resist. Distract herself. Do anything but come.

The song danced on the edge of crescendo, as if aware of her current plight, teasing her with anticipation.

Then, she realized, the song was aware of her current plight. It was teasing her. And she wasn’t resisting anything. The song was just having its fun. No matter how Pasco had tied her, it wouldn’t have mattered. The song, just by itself, was in complete control of her impending climax.

At that realization, a massive wave swelled beneath her, the inescapable rise of the true crescendo, and the little boat of her mind was tossed fully into the air.

There was no resisting this.

Ada screamed ecstasy into the gag as her core became the center of a ripple, like a droplet falling into a still pond, wave after wave of sheer melodic pleasure coursing through her body and the music still rising, rising, rising on one long crescendo.

Ada, now a dragon, stood panting on the deck for one still, silent moment. The shredded remnants of the gag rested between two of her hand-sized fangs. She flicked it off with the tip of her tongue and the gag fell to the deck.

She spread her wings and barely even needed to down-stroke as the strong ocean tailwind swept her up and carried her towards the rocks.

Ada heard Pasco’s cries of dismay behind her, but she did not comprehend them, her mind already gone in lust-drunk heat.

The previously still ocean had whipped up suddenly into a violent storm, grey skies and swirling clouds, buffeting winds and an icy mist of rain.

The rocks were lined with dozens of sirens, gorgeous and naked with their fishes’ tails, all singing, a jubilant choir in awe of that which they had summoned, the dragon coursing powerfully through their storm.

In their excitement they had not let the melody fall, and the dragon’s body still vibrated with the heat of need.

To the dragon, this was no issue. She could simply rub one out while on-the-wing and arrive at this curious place with plenty of energy left. She circled the knuckles of her back feet up to her slit in her familiar way — and gods was she so sensitive! Her own wetness dripped out, joining the rain on the wind.

The song peaked again and the dragon climaxed, roaring with delight into the keening wind.

But, as the dragon’s mind receded, Ada’s heart plummeted.

And then her body did.

Ada, now human again, dropped through open air towards the roiling sea below.

The song hushed.

Ada screamed.

And then the dark ocean swallowed her.

Part 3: Setting Sail, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 17: The Wanderlust

For better or worse, Ada’s dreams took a turn towards the unpleasant. As she awoke, still spread eagle on the bed, wrists and ankles bound, she was feeling considerably less horny. Her dreams faded quickly but she was left with a lingering feeling of rejection.

Nothing like a light fog of shame to take the edge off in the morning. She was also quite sore.

She didn’t have to wait long before Pasco also stirred.

“How are you feeling?”

“Alright. A bit sore.”

Pasco looked a bit worried. “Maybe I shouldn’t have left you…”

“No,” Ada said. “It was very necessary. I’m alright now, though. We set out on your ship today, right?”

Pasco nodded. “First thing, so it’ll only be an hour or two before we’re out on the open sea.”

“Alright, I can handle that. You can untie me.”

Pasco cast her a wary look. “Can I?”

“Yeah, I’m fine now.”

“I dunno,” he said, “You were pretty ready to go on a murderous rampage last night.”

“You look like you wish you could haul me onto the ship still tied to this bed,” Ada said.

“Would you like that?” Pasco crooned.

A spark of arousal. Ada closed her eyes and sighed. “Yes, but we really shouldn’t talk like this. All business until we get out to sea.”

Pasco nodded. “All business.” He untied her and she worked the blood back into her tired muscles.

They rejoined the others on the main floor of the tavern, which was now empty and quiet, and then made their way down more rickety stairs and makeshift bridges to the docks.

Pasco’s ship looked absolutely royal. The sails were a brilliant blue, the decks were trimmed with railings carved into delicate swirls, and the maidenhead at the front had her chest high, her arms spread wide, and was totally naked. The ship’s name was painted on her flank in sweeping script. Wanderlust.

They climbed aboard and Pasco left Ada near the wheel of the ship, where she could see what was happening but stay relatively out of the way. Pasco was not just captain in name. As he barked firm orders at his crew and they dutifully obeyed, Ada felt herself swelling with pride and arousal.

Fortunately, her curiosity about the workings of the ship kept her attention. She watched the crew shuffle back and forth and traced the web of ropes that ran the whole ship. Well, her curiosity kept her attention until she imagined being caught up in those ropes herself, expertly tied by Pasco, him barking orders at her.

Ada gulped and tried to get a handle on herself. One more hour. She could do that, right? One more hour?

She wouldn’t have made it if Sendia hadn’t come over. Ada asked her question after question about the ship and its crew, and Sendia was happy to answer.

As the boat was about to push off, another sailor came over and beckoned to Sendia. The other woman stood, but Ada reached out and grabbed her hand. “Wait! Sendia I… I really need distracting.”

“Oh!” Sendia said. “I wondered why you were so interested in boats all of a sudden. Jack, can you cover for me? It’s very important, I swear.”

Jack eyed her suspiciously.

“Kraken eat me!” Sendia insisted. “I’m serious!”

Jack grumbled, but jogged back down the deck.

“Okay, so,” Sendia returned her attention to Ada, newly enthused. “The way that a capstan works is…”

As Sendia rattled on and on and on, Ada settled into the soothing sound of her voice. Ada’s attentions were able to turn more fully to the view in front of her as the boat set sail and the wind pulled it out onto the open sea.

Everything about the ocean was new and wonderful.

The endless expanse of blue.

The brilliantly intense sunlight.

The gently rolling waves interspersed with crowning dolphins, the smell of salt and algae, the seabirds drifting overhead with their wings spread wide.

Ada felt like one of those sea birds, floating along in unlimited blue. She realized that she no longer needed Sendia’s distraction, and instead she welcomed Sendia’s company. The pirate told Ada all about this stretch of coast, the striped sea cliffs which were nearly out of view, the island chain that they were traveling towards but could not yet see.

The ocean was everything that Ada had imagined and so much more. And though it was so new, it felt so… familiar. So right. She wondered if that was the dragon in her, since Pasco had mentioned that dragons tended to live out on the sea, nowadays. Or, perhaps it was Ada herself, who’d never quite felt at peace anywhere she couldn’t see the horizon.

Everything about the last week had been so new, and yet so right, that Ada worried that she might actually be in a dream. But did she really believe that her imagination was capable of conjuring up all this? Surely not.

And she was sure that this new life that she was hurtling into would not be all sunshine and blue skies. She had read about the terrible power of the sea, violent storms and rogue waves, windless skies and whirlpools. It had some dangerous inhabitants, which Sendia had alluded to — kraken and serpents and strange spirits.

And Ada could not be more excited for all of it. She was so happy to be on deck, so excited to take it all in, that even when Sendia had to get back to work and Pasco stopped to check on her, Ada assured him that she was quite content for the time being.

She stayed on deck, the wind in her hair and her mind drifting out over the waves, all the way until sunset. The cool blue sky turned hazy, then an orange tinge took over the horizon. The orange spread slowly upwards, reaching towards the sun. When they met, the sky ignited brilliant red, turning the ocean to crimson with it. The sun dripped down towards the endless waves of heat, slipping slowly inside.

As the last bit of the sun quivered then finally released, sinking down below the horizon, Ada realized that she was quite worked up again.

She’d also totally missed the bustle of activity behind her, where the deck had transformed from strictly business to a warm and lively feast. Dread pulsed in Ada’s stomach — or was it arousal? — as she realized that in watching the sunset, she had missed her own opportunity for release. She didn’t want to miss the party, after all.

Pasco noticed that Ada had finally surfaced from her reverie and came over to her then. “How are you doing?”

“Thirsty,” she said. She meant it both literally and sexually.

“Well, there’s ale and fresh water out now, help yourself.” There was a glint in his eyes that told Ada he’d caught her drift.

“Do you have parties every night?”

Pasco laughed. “Not quite, we do have to actually be productive.”

“‘Being productive’ here meaning, what, raiding other ships?”

“Some raiding,” Pasco said, “Some hunting for buried treasure, some keeping up diplomacies with the other pirates and ocean dwellers, some plundering, and so on. Never any raping though. Not sure what rumors make it up to land.”

“That’s good to hear,” Ada said. “If you don’t party every night, then what’s the occasion?”

“Well, to welcome our new guest, of course!”

Ada blushed, and not from arousal. Ada had been paraded around at parties plenty of times, and many of them had been in her honor. She’d enjoyed the attention, especially the sexual attention which always came after, when she drew in eager suitors with her honeyed words and they were all too happy to please her. Well, they were happy to please Her Majesty. Her Majesty was a character that Ada played, and it had not been unpleasant. It had allowed her to be everything that she was expected to be. Prim, proper, demure, and then greedy, demanding, inconsiderate.

As much fun as it had been, though, Her Majesty was still just a character. It had seemed that before, nobody in the world knew that underneath it all she was… just Ada.

But, Pasco knew. And Sendia and Missa and Teoda and Forte. None of them had asked her to be anything other than what she was.

A party for Ada, not for Her Majesty? She had no idea what to do. It all felt very… vulnerable.

Pasco seemed to notice her introspection. “I thought you might enjoy it,” he said softly, “but it’s okay if you don’t like it. I don’t want to put any undue pressure on you. It’s just that to me…” He tucked a piece of her hair back behind her ear. “You’re worth celebrating.”

A wave of emotion swelled within Ada and then broke on her shore, sending a soft stream of tears from her eyes. Pasco wiped her cheeks with his warm, calloused hand.

He gave her a moment. Unhurried, he said, “What do you think?”

“I love it,” she said with certainty. “There’s a lot to celebrate!”

Part 3: Setting Sail, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 13: Table Stakes (Part I)

The port city was a raucous tangle of color perched up in the sea cliffs, thousands of people flittering this way and that like a flock of seabirds in constant motion. The cliff-side city surrounded a bay, where hundreds of ships of every shape and size moored.

They had finally arrived after four more days of travel, and Pasco promised that Ada would get to see his ship very soon. But before that, they were to spend a night in the city.

Ada peered down from the top edge of the cliff, trying to figure which ship was Pasco’s. Not that she had much to go on — he’d said what kind his was but she’d never heard the word before and she could hardly tell the ships apart except that some were big and some were small, some with colorful sails and others with drab ecru.

A warm hand pulled Ada back into the center of the rickety staircase that they were descending.

“Gods, child,” Missa said. Her voice was uneven and she had a thin layer of sweat on her brow. “Mind the height!”

“Oh. Doesn’t really bother me anymore, I suppose, between the tower and the, y’know. Dragon.”

“I wouldn’t mention that too loudly here,” Pasco said from ahead of Ada. “Some of these folks are exotic collectors in the worst way.”

Ada frowned. “Oh. Right… How long are we staying here, again?” Ada had never been particularly good at minding her manners to begin with, and after over a week traveling with this crew, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to go back to being even partway proper.

Pasco turned and looked back at her, brows raised. “Thirsty, aren’t we?”

Ada blushed, then grinned. Just him saying that sent her mind twirling through all the things they’d been doing, everything they could do. If she hadn’t been aroused before, she was now. “Well. Yeah.” Ada scurried to catch up, haphazard on the rickety stair, which caused a worried gasp from Missa. “But how—”

Pasco chuckled. “Just the night. Think you can make it?”

“Hmmmm, depends on what we’re doing.”

The tavern was perched over the docks, half nestled into the rock and half jutting out over the water, like a sea bird too fat for its nest. The part over the water was an open deck and the sea breeze rushing over it smelled of salt and sweat.

At the center of the deck was a five man band, which was surrounded by a swirl of dancing patrons.

The inner area was lined with booths along the wall, a bar on the innermost side and a few freestanding tables between them. The cooling autumn air breezed through the open tavern, ruffling colorful flags and streamers.

The patrons were mostly younger, men and women, some topless in a similar manner to the pirates, some wearing embroidered sashes, others wearing dull linens. As the party approached the deck area from another board walk, a buxom middle-aged woman sauntered over to meet them. “Aaaaaah our favorite prince! The usual this evening then?”

Pasco dipped his chin at her. “You known it.”

The woman couldn’t hide her gleeful expression. She leaned back towards the deck. “Next round’s on the prince, aye!”

The whole tavern cheered and the woman started hurrying around to gather everyone’s orders.

Pasco took Ada by the hand and pulled her out onto the deck where the band had just started a new shanty. They sang and danced. Ada stumbled this way and that because she knew neither the songs nor the dances, but still, she had a grand time. She only slowed once she was hoarse and her feet ached and she’d already swigged down a tankard of beer.

She then followed Pasco to a booth, and as the buxom woman saw them sit she didn’t even come over to collect an order, just nodded knowingly at Pasco and disappeared behind the bar.

They chatted for a bit, Pasco recounting some of his favorite memories from his previous visits to the tavern. Ada listened happily and soaked it all in. She’d been to so very many dinner parties, but this was different. Less pomp and circumstance, more raw and spontaneous. Pasco’s life sounded so much more interesting than hers had been, and she was excited to be a part of it, for however long she could be.

Thinking of dinner parties reminded her of what she used to do during them to pass the time. What might she inspire in him if she shared her old secret? Only one way to find out.

“This place is so fun,” she said. “The closest thing I ever had to this before was dinner parties. They were fine but… mostly boring. Lots of formality… lots of people who couldn’t see past their own upturned noses, y’know.”

“Ugh, that sounds terrible.”

“It was! It was very boring. Though I, well, I found a way to make it fun.” She twirled a piece of her hair around her finger.

“Oh yeah?” Pasco said, seeming to pick up on her being coy. “How’d you do that?”

“I masturbated.”

Pasco laughed. “I thought that was frowned upon at royal dinner parties.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” Ada said. “That’s why it was secret masturbation.”

“So you like edging?”

“Hm? Well, yeah, but I always got off.”

“You climaxed at the dinner party?” He sounded truly impressed.

Ada’s heart fluttered with pride and arousal. “Yeah, obviously.”

“And nobody knew?”

“Nobody knew. Believe me, I’d have gotten a far worse fate than being banished to a tower if anybody knew about that particular indiscretion.” Ada was excited that she’d impressed even Pasco, whose life seemed much more sexually uninhibited than she’d ever dreamed possible.

“How in the world did you manage that? I’d never be able to.”

Ada grinned wickedly. “Aw, I’m sure you could. In fact…”

Part 2: On the Road, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 8: Riding

The day of riding with Pasco and crew out from under the shadow of her tower had been absolute torture. First, Pasco had given her the choice of riding a horse by herself, or sharing his. Of course she had wanted to share his but she would last all of about five minutes that way, so she’d been forced to pretend to be demure and request her own horse. She’d then been given Sendia’s horse, and slender Sendia rode in front of Missa, Missa’s breasts bouncing at the horse’s rhythm, her nipples brushing Sendia’s back, and Ada swore they were both really fucking enjoying it.

And of all things, horseback riding. The classic female sexual awakening. The forbidden fruit of straddling the saddle. The royal folk said polite women only rode side-saddle because it looked more elegant, but Ada knew. It as because they saw how fucking happy all those women looked, straddling the saddle, rubbing in the seat as they galloped off into the field, high on freedom.

Pasco and crew had even offered for her to be topless, if that would make her more comfortable, and of course it would. But the thought of him, of Pasco, seeing her nakedness, admiring it, taking it in — nope, that would be bad. Ungood. It would be impossible to contain herself.

Of course, she spent the entire day seeing his partial nakedness, admiring it, taking it in. The way his skin rippled over the muscles of his back like the ocean she imagined. His long hair tied at the crown of his head and flowing out behind him, just like a horse’s tail. The smell of his sweat, mingling with the others’ and the horses though distinctly his, the musk and hint of cedar. The black, banded tattoos up his arm. Some were simple and bold, others fine designs, and he had more than any of the others. Did they mean something? Were they stories? Victories? Battles won? Lovers taken?

Ada had shifted in her saddle all day, side-saddle until her back hurt, straddling until she was on the edge, then back to side-saddle, trying desperately to be uncomfortable.

She tried to focus on her horse. Her actual horse. Not the fantasy of a man who had been turned into a horse by a witch, but still had all his man’s thoughts and needs and importantly consent and had come to her for help relieving the urges of his giant horse dick…

No her actual, animal, non-sapient, non-consenting horse. That, at least, she could focus on and be somewhat less aroused. Horses wanted to be brushed. Fed carrots. Allowed to graze. She tuned in to her memories of learning how to ride horses and tried to understand this horse’s gait, its temperament and personality.

What did Pasco like? What did he want? What were his memories of learning to ride horses? What was his gait, his rhythm, his temperament and personality?

That night, Ada lay awake in her bedroll. It took all her willpower to not masturbate.

It was going to be a long night.

Part 1: The Beginning, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 7: From the West

Only a couple of days later, another group appeared heading towards the tower. However, Ada did not notice them until they were quite close because they were coming from the West.

The West: from which no interloper or traveler had come for decades, the very reason this tower was built, the direction of the nearest ocean, the mysterious and captivating West.

She did not usually check in that direction, but she was glad she had. She arranged herself at the biggest window in the tower, which had been built for this exact purpose, and she watched them. Too eager and nervous to wait for them to get much closer, Ada scurried around for her spyglass which she’d left near one of the southern windows but knocked aside in a lust-addled trip downstairs, and finally returned to the western window for a closer look.

It had looked like they were wearing strange armor, but as Ada lifted the spyglass, she realized that they weren’t wearing anything at all.

There were five of them, each riding a horse, each completely shirtless, though they did wear trousers.

One had a broad chest and narrow waist, another was thicker throughout, two had breasts and ample curves, and the last had a lanky, athletic build.

She watched, unable to do anything else, as they grew closer and closer and came more clearly into view.

They were all ochre and bronze like they spent long days in the sun, some with darker hair and some with lighter, each with bold black tattoos ringing their arms. The two broad-chested ones had beards and long hair, the other three had clean faces. Two of those had long hair, but one of the ones with breasts kept theirs short. Two men and three women?

Their horses weren’t entirely normal either. What had at first appeared to be ornate saddle blankets were actually scales, tealish and running down the fronts of the horses’ faces and across their backs. One of Ada’s books on the ocean had hinted at this — these were a cross-breed of horse and hippocampus!

As intrigued as she was by everything about this group, her eyes kept drifting back to the man at the front. He was smaller than the other man but still surely taller and broader than Ada. He had a medium-length beard and his long, black hair was tied up at the crown of his head and flowed behind him like a midnight waterfall. Even from this distance, Ada could clearly see the muscles of his chest and arms, which rippled like ocean waves.

She was just about ready to swoon. Her arousal was rising to meet the beautiful, mysterious visitors. Ada fought to keep focused.

So, these were folks from the sea? Were they descendents of the legendary marauders? Or had the western politics changed in the intervening years?

Ada sputtered around the tower. What to do? Make them dinner? Pretend to be asleep? Pretend to be tied up? What should she say when they asked about the dragon? Would they even know about the dragon? Why were they here?

Ada had plenty of plans for how to deal with people – but none of them involved actually talking to them.

They were nearly at the bottom of the tower.

Ada looked down. She was still totally naked. Well, if nothing else, she was going to get dressed. Her sex ached for attention, as if the very fact that she knew that it was not the right time to be touching herself was exactly what made her want to touch herself. But she couldn’t exactly greet these visitors as a dragon, could she? Or should she?

Ada’s thoughts started to melt into a lecherous haze and her hand crept towards her aching desire as she thought that maybe it was bet to be a dragon after all, given that the visitors could be dangerous…

A firm knock at the front door interrupted her thoughts and made the decision for her.

“Um. Coming!” she yelled. She wished that she were coming, but instead she hastily threw on her frock, neglecting any undergarments, scurried down the stairs, and clumsily unbolted the door.

And there they were, the five sea folk standing in front of her, shirtless, all wearing black trousers, their scaled horses standing loyally behind, sniffing at the grass.

“Hello,” Ada said. She gulped.

She tried to look evenly across them but her eyes were pulled irresistibly to the man at the front. What she had not been able to see from the spyglass was that he had kind grey eyes that crinkled as he smiled at her. Ada thought the floor might have dropped out from under her because she felt like she was falling.

“Hello,” he said. “I… heard you have a dragon problem?” His voice was rich and warm, a slight lilting accent that sent quivers down Ada’s spine.

“Um, yes,” was all she could say.

“I have to, um, ask, since it’s important tactically — is there really a dragon?” He glanced around the space inside, eyes casting up towards the staircase behind her.

Ada flushed bright red. She squeaked something resembling a “yes”.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to doubt you,” he said quickly, truly apologizing. “It’s just, I was shocked to not see it on the way in. The dragons where I come from make themselves known, with no prejudice. I know this land can be fond of their fairy tales, so I wanted to be sure.”

“Yes, indeed, usually Iiiiiiiii, it does that, but, um, it’s asleep. And you have miraculous timing, good, um, well, how would you be called?” She wanted to hear his name, to burn it into her memory, to write it on her skin. Gods, when did she become such a helpless romantic?

“I’m ser Pasco. This is ser Forte,” the larger one, “Mam Missa,” the long-haired curvy one, “Mam Teoda,” the short-haired curvy one, “and Mam Sendia,” the slender one with long hair. She had no breasts to speak of, but a feminine face and a perky step.

“And I’m mam Ada,” Ada said.

“Nice to meet you, Ada,” Pasco said.

The way he said her name. Ada. Not ‘Your Majesty’. Not ‘Your Royal Highness’. Just, Ada. He turned her name into a song.

“N-nice to meet all of you,” she stammered as she realized their eyes were all on her. She’d forgotten all their names, except for his. Pasco. But, looking to them instead of him hardly solved her problem. The other man was thick, viscerally masculine. The two curvier women looked quite different from each other and were both a bit taller than Ada so that their large breasts were at her eye level and gods she just wanted to touch them. And the slender woman with the flat chest had such a pretty face, Ada just wanted to kiss her.

“May… we rescue you now?” Pasco said. “If our timing has indeed been miraculous then I would hate to press our luck.”

I can think of something else to press, Ada thought, imaging her hand on his trousers, his thigh between her legs.

Oh this is bad. She was a total mess. She was sweating, her heart was pounding, her arousal was aching. But what would they do if she turned into a dragon in front of them?! Well, she could probably escape, but she wanted very much to go wherever they were going, to see wherever it was that they had come from, to learn why ever it was that people from the West, of all places, had come to her tower.

“Rescue sounds… good,” she said. “Let me just… um, grab some things real quick. You can come right in.” She wanted to grab his dick and have him come right in her. Ada was hearing innuendo in her own words. What a mess. And she turned to see that the tower, too, was a total mess. The chairs were shredded, there was a streak of dragon slick on the floor that had not entirely dried from the day prior, and shed scales, and clumps of mud, and claw marks.

If they noticed the disarray, they didn’t say anything. Perhaps they assumed that the dragon had prowled into the tower after her and that it might be a frightening topic for her.

“Is there time?” Pasco asked as he and the other four stepped inside.

“Y-yes, the dragon… sleeps in a cave. It should be… quiet for a bit.” It wasn’t actually a lie if you permitted the metaphor that Ada’s quivering sex was the cave. The dragon surely did lie in wait, right inside.

Ada jogged up to her room and gathered her favorite books. She was sorely tempted to rub one out — well, rub two out in rapid succession — to provide herself some relief before she descended again, but she dare not risk the apparent arrival of the dragon.

She was sure that Pasco would charge up and spear her, though her logic wasn’t quite right because her scales were impenetrable. Her expectation of penetration was likely more about the penis-in-vagina variety.

With her dearest books stacked in her arms, Ada took a moment to evaluate the small room where she had slept for these past six months. She felt more fondly towards the bare little space than she ever had to any of her lavish chambers or plush beds.

Loathe as she was to leave all the other books behind, she knew that they would want her to go out and have the kind of adventure that their pages described.

Ada took a deep breath, clutched her books to her chest, steeled her will, and stepped outside.

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