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Christmas Dinner (Part IV)

Continued from Part III

The guests thus attended to, Elden turned his attention to Rosie, who was once again quivering eagerly.

“Now, what to do with these leftovers…” he said.

Rosies eyes fluttered, her legs straining against her bonds, wanting desperately to press together or somehow resolve the cold emptiness between them.

“Now remind me, how long does this concoction take to dissipate if you don’t cum it out?”

Rosie whimpered.

Elden grinned. “Days, isn’t it?”

Rosie shuddered, then reluctantly nodded.

Instead of giving her an answer, Elden brushed his finger through the air and the serving platter spun slowly on his magic.

“You do look quite pretty like this,” Elden said. “All bound and glazed.”

A golden tendril of magic trailed up Rosie’s cheeks, inspiring a shiver and a burst of hope in her heart.

“As much fun as it would be to keep you like this for days,” Elden said, “I do have need of you tomorrow.”

Rosie nodded solemnly, lest her enthusiasm earn her further denial.

“Good. You won’t make any such mistakes tomorrow, will you?”

Rosie emphatically shook her head.

“That’s a good girl. If you did, I’d have to punish you like this again. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

Rosie’s cheeks flushed red, her legs quivered, then she nodded. Then paused, shook her head. Then nodded.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Elden crooned. “Did you lose track of which way I asked the question?”

Rosie nodded.

“With your brain so muddled, you really will be useless tomorrow. And we can’t have that, can we?”

Rosie shook her head, trying but failing to keep her breathing from quickening, her breasts from heaving.

Elden went and stood by her head, and Rosie turned her eyes up at him. 

He said, “All this attention tonight was really quite the tease, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. 

“You poor thing,” he crooned. “None of them know just how hard you can cum.”

Before Rosie could nod again, a tendril of golden magic traced up from her knee to her hip, and Rosie’s head tipped back against the table.

“Especially with all that magick in your veins. And so, so warmed up…”

More golden tendrils appeared, curling around each of Rosie’s breasts, trailing towards her mouth and her cunt.

She trembled and moaned, no longer able to hold back her pleas.

Elden smiled and the ring gag vanished from Rosie’s mouth. Her eyes widened. “Please, please I need it, I need to cum so bad, please, I-I’ll be so good, I promise, please I need it, please…”

Hot, red, ancient magic flared in Elden’s eyes and a golden tendril surged down Rosie’s throat, muffling her words again. Fiery magic that threatened to melt Elden’s icy calm tingled down his spine, and he took a deep breath and extinguished the flare. He needed to be careful with this one. One more word from her, and she might have unleashed what he had spent centuries carefully containing. Not that it was a bad containing. Perhaps channeled was a better word—guided and shaped how he willed, in the ways that brought him pleasure.

Just as he shaped his magic into the golden tendrils that thickened and probed, filling her throat and her cunt and her ass, squeezing her waist and her breasts, pinching hard at her nipples.

For as much as these guests and her begging had reminded him of when he was king, the cheerful red baubles in the evergreens, which Rosie had so carefully arranged, reminded him that he liked this life far better.

His magics wrung climax after climax out of the little elf who was by far the cleverest apprentice he’d ever had. As Elden pulled her through another climax, he resolved to do a better job of assuring her that he’d not be firing her for something so silly as mixing up bottles.

Perhaps it was that she was a young fae, and so overly afraid of mischief. The Convention was to blame for that, and Elden was happy to pay more than a few fines in order to teach Rosie what fae life really was. She was well on her way. In fact—

Elden was disturbed from his musings by a buzzing tension and the strong smell of juniper and jasmine. Had he not been distracted, he would have already felt the air shifting and pulsing with the will, I want… I want…

All fae magic started with the will, and Rosie’s was unwinding into the room around her. 

The hair on the back of Elden’s neck stood on-end like a concerned cat’s as his golden tendrils sniffed out the silky green ones forming in the air.

And then in the span of a moment in-between moments, Rosie was standing—no, floating—in front of him, a dress of silky emerald magic swirling around her, her eyes gleaming green like sunlight through leaves, looking like a queen of old.

Her voice whispered from the air all around them as her hand gently landed on the back of his neck. “I want you to feel good too…”

Elden swallowed. It was unwise to try and quell spontaneous outbursts of fae magic like this, and yet, between teacher and apprentice it was wise to maintain a certain amount of professionalism…

An emerald tendril brushed against the front of Elden’s ruby velvet trousers and he shuddered.

Rosie grinned, showing her own pointed canines. “‘Professionalism’? Come now, didn’t you say this is our culture?”

Elden forced a wry grin. “How long have you been reading my thoughts?”

“Since I decided I want you…”

Moments shifted, and then Rosie was standing in front of him, cheek against his stomach, hand against his growing bulge.

“…to feel good too.”

“You naughty little thing,” Elden gasped.

Rosie grinned. “I am, aren’t I? I messed up the potions… and now I’m being unprofessional…”Rosie’s fingers curled into the ruby velvet, and then it was gone, her own magic having pulled it away.

Elden stood, suddenly exposed, unsure of what to do, until her hot mouth folded around his length. Arousal quivered through him, rediscovering sensations. How long had it been? Decades? He had kept everything and everyone at arms’ length, and now here he was, cock-deep in his apprentice.

And it felt amazing. But he was supposed to be the one in charge, supposed to be the one taking care of…

“Shhhhh,” whispered the air around him as Rosie pushed him onto the plush chair she’d conjured behind him.

“Y-you won’t get me quite that easily,” Elden said, mustering his will and magic to stir his golden tendrils again. If he could exhaust Rosie first, he could get through this with some amount of dignity intact.

Elden’s genius plan had the effect of inspiring Rosie to moan around his cock, which put his willpower on much slipperier ground. Here she was, enhanced by a fae stamina potion, and here he was, some decades since his last proper indulgence. To say that his heat was rising quickly was a understatement. She bobbed down his length, tongue swirling and pressing, moans buzzing under his tip.

“R-Rosie… if you don’t stop that, I’m going to… I’m going to…”

He tried to think of some suitable punishment, but all he could think was I’m going to cum.

He was on the brink and Rosie knew it.

“How do you feel?” her voice asked from the air.

Her tongue swirled under his tip. He was dripping, but he could hardly afford to encourage her. And he was far from lucid enough to lie.

She pulled him slowly down her throat, lips pressing tight around him, and he couldn’t keep the moan from escaping. She brought him right to the edge again, then paused.

“I said, how do you feel?”

Dread mixed with hot arousal in Elden’s core as he realized that she was going to make him say it. She would keep him here, right on the brink, until he pushed her away or he said it. And the former was not an option, not with the way his whole body throbbed under her touch.

“It feels good,” he breathed.

“What’s that?”

“It feels so fucking good.”

And then she unleashed herself upon him and his arousal flared. “Rosie… Rosie!” Elden’s hips bucked as he hissed and plummeted over the edge.

Every candle flared, the logs in the fireplace cracked into sparks, and motes of light appeared around them. Outside the house, snow shuddered off tree limbs and the ice skating pont cracked from the center. Rosie drank deep and delighted, her lips around his base and their magic entwining.

Elden’s magic in Rosie thickened and swelled, pushing her into one last gushing climax.

As Elden’s breath finally slowed, Rosie tucked her cheek against his thigh. The dining room was dim, all the candles burned to their bases and the fire now only embers. The air now smelled of soot, juniper, and sex.

Despite Rosie’s best efforts, sleep soon overtook her slight form.

Elden’s magic swept her clean, but he lifted her into the plush bed she’d conjured and tucked her in with his own hands, then turned his attention to the guests and the fluid-drenched wreckage of a dining room.

Elden chuckled wryly to himself. “Just like the yultides of yore, if I do say so myself…”

Then he took a deep breath and undammed a stream of ancient magic. In a swirl of snowflakes and golden warmth, each guest was cleaned, their hair resettled, their clothes redressed, until they were just as they had been when they arrived. Coils of magic then spirited them away, each to their homes, dropping on their doorsteps at just the moment nobody was quite paying attention.

Each would remember a carriage ride home and report to their loved ones that they were quite sleepy, but would be happy to recount the experience the next day.

After a long, peaceful sleep, they would awaken to report an absolutely delightful dinner. Exactly what had made it so delightful, they couldn’t quite say… except that it was definitely the little bird, which despite its small size had been so very delicious that they couldn’t help but go back for thirds, fourths, or more.

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Part 2: Phase II, The Black Box

Chapter 7: You’ve Got Mail

The new box arrived the next day. Expedited shipping was part of the premium experience, apparently. 

Like the first package, there were smaller parcels within it with tags that read ‘not yet!’ which he knew would change once he was with Arya.

John forced himself through some chores and a few paragraphs of a draft for his review. But, the new box sat on his table, begging him to find out what was inside. After a few hours he realized that he wasn’t being productive and that he might as well get his evening session started a bit early.

He put on the headset.

Arya appeared next to him, giddy with excitement. “Okay okay, I know that we usually start with niceties but… open it!”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” John said, eagerly lifting the lid of the box and scanning for which parcel said ‘open me’. It was a smallish one towards the front of the box.

John pulled it out and opened it, and as he saw what was inside, he almost laughed. It was easily recognizable as a butt plug, on the smaller side, with a slender bar that connected it to a base that flared in two directions. It looked like it was optimized for comfort wearing. Next to it was a different bottle of lube, which he expected was because the plug itself was made of silicone and therefore not compatible with the lubricant he’d been using.

“Well, that’s thoughtful of you.” John set the plug on the table and the packaging aside.

“It’s not just for pleasure, y’know,” Arya said, still nearly bouncing out of her chair with glee. “It’s also for data.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! Did you know? Anal muscle contractions are one of the few relatively objective markers of orgasm.”

“Huh. I didn’t know that but… it makes sense.” He thought of the feeling of his ass squeezing around his finger, in time with the pulses of his ejaculation, just the night before. With the memory came a wave of arousal. “So… is this the next phase of calibration? I wear this, jack off a bunch, and you get better at telling when I’m about to come?”

“Exactly!” Arya said. “You’re smart, y’know.”

John found himself stammering and blushing again. Turning his attention back to the butt plug which was an easier topic than taking the compliment.

“Should I… try it out?” He picked up the plug.

“Yes, please! But before we get started, I want to show you a couple of features.”

The butt plug suddenly started vibrating. John nearly dropped it as he jumped, startled.

“Oops!” Arya said. “Sorry, haha. That’s why I’m showing you now. It has a few different levels…” She cycled up through them, from a gentle buzz to quite a rumble, “and some patterns.” The vibrator pulsed, then it ramped up a few times, and then it was still again.

“As a reminder, you can say ‘pause’ at any time, and I’ll stop. The augmented parts will be disabled, the audio will stop, and the vibrator will also stop. Is ‘pause’ still a good word for you?”

“Yeah.” He wouldn’t have been able to articulate it before, but this kind of expectation-setting made him feel so much more comfortable. Arya actually cared about how he felt and what his experience was. He couldn’t say that about most humans he knew. In fact, Arya was taking John’s comfort much more seriously than he did. He should probably work on that, if his self-respect was getting outclassed by a porn game.

“Great! Now, you seem like the sort of boy who likes to be teased, so I think it’s also good for you to have a word that you can say that will just shut off the vibrator, but not me. That way you can say, ‘nooo, it’s too much!’ or ‘Arya please stop, you’re driving me crazy!’ but I won’t, y’know, stop. Until you want me to. I usually use ‘red’ for that word, is that okay with you?”

John’s mind went fuzzy. She’d done that on purpose! He forced himself to focus. “Yes, that’s good for me.”

“Let’s try it,” Arya said.

The vibrator whirred to the highest setting.

“Go ahead,” Arya said.

“Red.” True to Arya’s word, the vibrator shut off.

“Good job! Alright, now we’re ready to start. Or, almost! There’s one more package for you to open.”

John looked back to the box, and sure enough, one of the other parcels was now labeled ‘open me!’. He opened the box and pulled out a velvety cylinder, which unrolled into a small blanket that crinkled lightly.

“It’s waterproof,” Arya said, “and machine washable so don’t worry if things get a little messy.” She winked.

John was amazed. Arya — or, well, Arya’s creators — really had thought of everything. He undressed, then took his blanket, lube, and the plug to the couch. He arranged himself on the blanket, propping his back up with pillows and getting his hand and the plug nice and slick with lube. He set the plug on the blanket. It was nice to be able to do that and know he’d be washing it all later.

He was already sporting an erection. He took a few moments to stroke himself, to leat the heat spread into his abdomen and the tops of his thighs, before he let his fingertips wander down to his rim.

Before he was even touching himself, he was moaning happily. He took his time, savoring it, pressing in first one finger and then two. Though he was still a ways from orgasm, pre-cum leaked from his tip. In his Googling to verify Arya’s claims, he’d come across an explanation that there were glands around the prostate that were responsible for pre-cum production, and so it was no surprise that stimulation there was especially inspiring.

The plug was slender, not much bigger around than two of his fingers, and so it was not long before it slipped easily inside and settled into place.

He started stroking himself in earnest, and all the residual heat from his rimming echoed deliciously along his length.

“I love the sounds you make,” Arya said, and her sudden voice startled him out of his bliss in a wave of brighter heat.

His ex had told him he sounded strange, so he’d generally tried to contain himself. He needed to stop thinking about his ex so much.

“I’m going to put it on low, okay?”

“Okay,” John said. When it didn’t happen right away, his ass clenched in anticipation. Another intentional tease?

Then the vibrations began, a wonderful feeling that made his brain melt. He moaned with abandon.

“Yes, perfect!” Arya said. “I’m going to cycle through a few different patterns and see how you react, okay?”

“C-collecting data?”

“Yep! As we go, remember to tell me what you like and don’t like, okay? And you can say ‘red’ to stop it.”

“Right.”

“Let’s start here, tell me how you feel?”

John knew there was no need to be embarrassed, and his reservations melted quickly in the heat of his arousal and the earnest look on Arya’s face. “Like um… really good. Floaty and… with my ass its sort of this… electric feeling, almost, like it’s in my whole body, and… it’s like how I want to come, but it feels so amazing, so I don’t want it to end, so it’s just this great… tension between going slow and going fast, and I’m trying to go as slow as I can, but I need… need to feel it, t-to touch myself…”

“That’s perfect, John,” she said softly. “What about now?”

The vibrator kicked to the next setting up, a new wave of intensity. John’s breathing and stroking quickened unconsciously, pre-cum twitched from his tip.

“Gooooood,” he moaned. “That’s really… good…”

“C’mon, you’re a writer,” she teased. “You can come up with more words for me, right?”

“Nnngh… I already said… I think… them all… but just more… of all the good words…”

“This really makes you a mess, doesn’t it?” Arya crooned.

John’s brain short-circuited and all he could do was nod as he panted open-mouthed, stroking himself and wiggling on the couch, ass clenching around the vibrating plug.

“And that’s only setting two of five,” Arya said. 

“What?” John had barely comprehended her words when the vibrator kicked up another notch and his whole body convulsed. It was incredibly intense, hot, burning, electric, and he was shaking, dripping, whining. This thing had two more levels???

“God! Fuck! Aaaaah…” John squirmed. “That’s intense, it’s— hah, too much, Arya—”

“You know what to say,” Arya crooned, “To make it stop.”

He did. But he didn’t say it. Instead he said, “I c-can’t take it! Aryaaaa…”

She smiled at him with her black lips. “Go on,” she said. “I’m listening.”

“I c-can’t cum like thisss…”

“I thought you didn’t want to?”

“I need to! God I need to so bad, I feel so full… Fuck. Fuuuuuuuck, it’s too much, I can’t take it!”

“I think you can.”

“It’s d-driving me crazy!”

“Would that be so bad? Being a wide eyed, fuck-drunk, over-buzzed sex zombie forever?”

There were no words for the intensity of sensation that filled John’s body, her words like a lighting strike setting a dry forest ablaze, the whole experience intense and burning and aching in the best, most wonderful, most delicious way.

He had no idea how long he trembled wordless like that, until his body set to convulsions that made his abs ache, and Arya gently stepped the vibrations back down to the lowest level, and then off.

He wasn’t even stroking himself anymore, and she gave him a long moment to lay there in the lingering buzz, recollecting himself. His erection never wavered, standing dutifully at attention, and he became more and more aware again of the needy throbbing in his balls. 

John started stroking himself again, and shortly after the vibrations kicked in again and he moaned. This time, Arya set it to a pattern, which ramped up slowly and spent only a quick moment at that third level of intensity, then dropped off to nothing, then ramped up again.

It was excruciatingly wonderful. He felt like he’d nearly come every time it ramped up, and just as the heat built, it cut off again and set him twitching. This was a different kind of slobbering, panting heat than before. It was steadily taking him right to the edge of orgasm before pulling back.

“Teasing you is so fun!” Arya said, just as the vibrations ramped up, and a full spurt of pre-cum spasmed from his tip before the vibrations cut off again.

“Fuuuuuuck, you’re good at it,” John said. “I’m so close…”

“Delicious,” Arya whispered.

John whimpered. “Pleeeease, I need to come…”

“I thought you liked to savor it? Stretch out the experience?”

“I— hah—”

“Just like I’m going to stretch out your ass.”

“Ggggggggnnnh.” Another spurt of pre-cum. “What is that… box full of… bigger toys?”

“Maybe,” Arya sang, in a voice that John knew meant ‘yes’.

The vibrator just kept ramping, and John just kept teetering. Arya showed no sign of relenting. He felt another pulse of pre-cum travel up his shaft and through his now incredibly sensitive tip. “You’re just going to drip me dry?” he said.

“Maybe,” Arya said.

John whimpered. “You can’t do that!”

“Can’t I?” Arya said.

“Nnngh, what, do you… do you want me to beg?”

“Do you want to beg?” Arya asked, tone sincere. Her eyes glittered.

John found himself in another predicament. It felt a bit backwards to admit that he wanted to beg, but he supposed that was the whole point here. He knew, and she knew, that at any time he could just say ‘pause’ and go finish however he wanted.

But he didn’t say ‘pause’. He was staying. Waiting. Throbbing.

“Please,” he whispered.

“I didn’t hear that,” she said.

“Pleeeeaase.”

“Please what?”

“P-please, I want to c-cum!” Another ramping vibration, another drop of pre-cum.

“How badly?”

“Bad! S-so badly, I c-can’t— I w-want— pleeeease…”

The next time the vibrator went to ramp, it stopped at the lowest setting. John’s body twitched, his ass clenched, at the subverted expectation.

“I suppose that could be allowed,” Arya said, and the vibrator stepped up to the next level.

John breathed heavily, panting, as if he’d just finished a sprint. He was sweating, stroking himself, the spark of an impending orgasm finally staying kindling, deep within his shaft. “Oh god, Arya, I’m so c-close!”

“I’ll allow it, because… You’ve been a very good boy.”

John’s brain short-circuited again, the vibrator kicked back to the third level, and his whole body convulsed, breath heaving, hips bucking, hands pumping, ass clenching. He came on his stomach and his chest and his legs and his hands and the blanket. After the thick semen came spurts of clearer cum, the muscles of his ass still clenching and forcing out more of the same fluid that formed his pre-cum, the orgasm lasting far longer than he had thought possible. 

Finally, John collapsed backwards on the couch, whole body tingling and head spinning like he’d just smoked a bowl.

He was starting to understand what people were on about when they talked about ‘earth-shattering orgasms’. 

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Part 1: Calibration, The Black Box

Chapter 2: First Time

“If you’re ready,” Arya said.

“I’m pretty ready,” John said.

“Great! Before we start, though, I want to tell you about one of my most important functions. At any time, you can just say ‘pause’, and I’ll, well, pause. Whatever’s happening will stop. The augmented effects and audio will shut off. Is that an okay word for you, ‘pause’? It shouldn’t be anything you expect to say otherwise.”

So it was like a safe word? That did seem to be a good idea, with how immersive the experience had been so far and with how few direct controls there were over the game. “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Great! What do you like? I could be here, or not. You could see my breasts, or I can put on porn. I can even do…” she cupped her hands around her mouth, “ASMR whispers.” The sound filled his head again as it first had, sending the back of his neck prickling.

“Maybe later on the ASMR thing.”

“Okay. What do you want now, then?”

“Ummm… that’s a lot to choose from… It feels, um, a little sterile, laying it all out like that.” John also felt a little bit foolish as he realized that he couldn’t remember ever just… saying what he liked. Worse than that, did he really know what he liked? He grinned wryly as he imagined a ‘Game Over’ screen flashing up in response to his indecision.

“Ah, that’s fair,” Arya said. “How about this?” She stood up and leaned forward, tugging on her t-shirt and as she did, the digital fabric morphed from a crew neck into a low scoop neck, revealing her cleavage. She put her arms on her knees and pressed her breasts together and towards him, then looked up at him and said, in a tone just like the silky smoke on the box, “I just really want to watch you touch yourself, please.”

John’s dick throbbed, abruptly fighting against the insides of his own jeans, all his reservations now forgotten. “Yeah, yep, okay.” He started to unzip his jeans, then hesitated. “Right… right here?”

“Yes!” she said, nearly whining. “I can’t wait any longer!”

John needed no further convincing and he dropped his jeans and boxers to his knees, his dick springing to attention. But as he reached for himself, he paused.

His stupid reviewer brain was kicking in, but the idea wasn’t half bad. She’d picked this scene, and he was very on board with it, but… if he waited, would she know? Would she beg?

He bit his tongue to distract himself from his own aching need, and he waited, hand hovering inches above his shaft.

“C’moooonnnn,” she moaned. “Please? I want to see you touch yourself! I need to!”

The wave of heat that washed over John shut off the thinking part of his brain just long enough for his hand to find his shaft. From there, there was no turning back. He moaned, aware of it but not self-conscious of it, confident that Arya would not mind. This had arrived at a good time for him, actually. It had been a while since he’d been in a relationship, and his self ministrations and become uninspired lately. He’d actually been so busy this week, it hadn’t been since the last weekend that he’d had any… release.

And his balls were reminding him of that now, throbbing and tight and full.

Arya periodically encouraged him with a “God, yes!” or a “Mmmmm I love the way you do that,” but after a couple of minutes his arousal was building and he was regretting that he hadn’t brought over any lube. He reluctantly slowed. “I just need… to go get, um—”

“Something slippery?” she asked. “It’s right there!” She pointed to the clear glass bottle. 

He picked it up and sure enough, on the other side of the tag that said ‘pump me’ it was labeled ‘silicone personal lubricant’ with all the corresponding usage information. He’d heard good things about it but never splurged on it himself, and it seemed fitting that such a premium game would include a premium lubricant.

He followed the directions and pumped the top, spreading a small amount on his hand and then tentatively on his dick.

It was satiny, smooth, slippery, delightful. He could stroke more easily and with a firmer grip, firmer and faster, and unlike lotion, it seemed like it was going to last longer than a minute.

Which was great, but he wasn’t sure he was going to last longer than a minute more. He forced himself to slow down, to really savor it. This was a premium experience, after all, not a yank and run.

He was finding a smooth and sustainable rhythm, right up until Arya said, “I love it when you tease yourself.”

His dick throbbed, his balls tensed, the heat blossomed. “Fuck!” His orgasm was coming and he hadn’t grabbed tissues or anything, though he was already past the point of no return. He came on the tile floor of his kitchen, on his jeans and his boxers at his knees.

As his body relaxed, he heaved a sigh. Well, he’d been planning to do laundry anyway.

“That was perfect,” Arya said.

“It was… pretty good, yeah.”

Arya chuckled. “Put that in your review. ‘Pretty good, yeah’.”

“So, um… how much calibration do you need here?” She already seemed to be pretty damn effective.

“More.” She smirked. “I’m obviously ready for round two whenever you are. But, go at your own pace. I’m here tomorrow, and the next day…” She ticked them off on her fingers, as if actually mentally checking her schedule.

“I dunno, I guess I was expecting some kind of quest progress meter for wanking it.”

“That’s not a half bad idea,” Arya said, “But I actually don’t know how long it’ll take myself. It all depends on how it goes.”

“Well, fret not because I will be masturbating like it’s my job. Because it is my job. At least for now.” Maybe being a game reviewer wasn’t so bad, after all.

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Part 6: Partners, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 32: Too Good

Ada noticed more and more that Pasco was a planner. He considered most things well in advance. He also seemed to also have a strong idea of how things should and shouldn’t be and yet a deep and sensitive consideration for the feelings of others.

She had never seen that combination before, and it was already making her wet as he pondered through the math of what she’d asked for.

He needed a space where she could be comfortable, and yet securely bound, and yet not break anything too important when she eventually became a dragon.

He combed the forest nearby for the right set of trees, and was finally satisfied by four thick trunks arranged in almost a square. They were sturdy enough that the ropes would snap before the trees did, allowing them to use the space again, and wide enough apart that she would not trample them as she transformed.

With a cutlass, he cleared out the underbrush and arranged the branches and leaves evenly, spreading a piece of old sail canvas over the padding. He tested it with his own weight, jumping on it and falling onto it from various angles.

As Ada watched, her heart flittered at his careful, thoughtful attention. Though he was about to ravage her, he was sparing no thought as to how to make it as pleasant as possible for her.

Some time later, she realized with a giggle that his planful preparation had turned to stalling.

He seemed startled by the noise and turned to her, then blushed. “What?”

“You’re just procrastinating, aren’t you?”

“No!” He blushed brighter.

She giggled mischievously.

He cleared his throat, checking each of the knots of the four tree trunks one last time, and beckoned her over.

She eagerly heeled to his feet.

He took her by the shoulders and looked down at her, her grey eyes full of concern.

Her own eyes were dilated with arousal, she was sure.

“Promise me,” he said, “that if you don’t love what’s happening, you’ll tell me to stop.”

“Silly, I’m not supposed to—”

He shook her, gently. “Promise me.”

She understood that she could be as bratty as she wanted soon, but she needed to be earnest in this moment. She cupped his kind cheeks in her hands. “I promise you that if I am not loving it, I will tell you to stop. I will say ‘red’. No matter how much I beg or plead or moan or grumble or scream, I am loving it, unless I say ‘red’.”

Pasco gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the soft skin of his throat. Out of arousal? Nerves? Both?

She continued, “And, um, if you leave marks… I think I’d really like that.”

“Noted.” He took a deep breath and let a wolfish grin spread across his face, then he used his grip at her shoulders to spin her around, pulling her hungrily back into him so that her back pressed against his chest.

His hand came up to press her neck back into him, fingers holding her jaw in place, voice brushing at her ear.

“My my my…” he growled. “What a pretty little dragon I’ve caught for myself…”

Ada whimpered and would have collapsed to the ground if he hadn’t been holding her so firmly. “A-are you going to e-eat me?”

“Yes, but very… very… slowly… and I’m going to make you watch.”

Ada gasped and wriggled, but Pasco’s arms were unmovable. He held her like a vice.

Still with a sultry command, he said, “How is this for you?”

“G-good,” Ada stammered.

Pasco tilted her head to the side, slowly enough that she could have stopped him if the angle was bad, and ran his tongue from the tip of her shoulder, all the way up her neck, and over her ear. She whimpered and shivered. 

“Good,” he crooned, “you’re going to taste especially good if you feel good.”

“F-fuck,” Ada quivered, “you’re g-good at this.”

“And I’ve only just begun,” he said, twisting her and shoving her back onto the makeshift mattress. 

She gasped at the weightless feeling and before she could do anything, he was on top of her, straddling her hips. He centered himself where her waist nipped in so that she was locked between his legs without him pressing down on her particularly hard. That frustrated her, she would have much preferred he be over her hips because her sex was throbbing now.

His erection rested against her chest, and then he stroked himself for a few moments as Ada just gazed up at him.

“Yes, you look quite good right here. But a tasty dragon snack needs to be roasted.”

His reach was long enough and his preparation thoughtful enough that without him needing to lift his hips off of her, all four ropes were in reach.

In a bid to keep use of her hands longer, she reached out and started to stroke him.

He sighed in a condescending sort of way. “Naughty naughty. Little dragons don’t get to set the pace. Don’t be greedy.”

She yelped, amazed that he knew her intentions so implicitly. What had she gotten herself into?

Something wonderful, she was sure, as he stretched one of her arms over her head and tied a rope around it. She was still too dizzy from his last command to put up any sort of fight.

After both her hands were secured, she tugged against the ropes.

Pasco saw her intent and squeezed her between his legs, keeping her in place. “Down girl. Stay.”

Ada’s muscles went slack again and she put up no fight as he turned and bound each of her ankles. She was now spread eagle on the sail cloth.

“Alright.” He eased back, kneeling next to her. “Test that tension out for me. What do you think? I want my little dragon to marinate. Pleasantly.”

Ada blinked, taking a long moment to fully comprehend what he was asking, and then she tugged against the ropes. And then she struggled. He had left her enough slack that she could press her legs together.

“A-a little tighter on my legs, please.”

Pasco nodded and complied. “How’s there?”

“A little more.”

“How about that?”

“That’s… yeah. Perfect.”

Her legs were held firmly apart, her outer labia spread, her sex open. Vulnerable. The warm night air flowing over her. She struggled in earnest now, testing the strength of the ropes, proving to herself that she would not be going anywhere.

“Excellent,” he said, leaning over her. “And just so that you’re sure you can’t escape…” He opened the locket and a gentle melody spilled out.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Ada moaned.

“Now,” he said, “Let me get a taste…” He leaned down and licked her breasts, sucked at her nipples, and she moaned and gasped at the intense sensation. He carried his tongue up from her breast across her collarbone, up her neck and over her face, and she trembled happily under him.

He ran kisses up each of her limbs. He sucked on her fingers, which made her slaver and moan. He sucked on her toes, and she twitched at the ticklish sensation, unable to escape but also undeniably aroused.

Finally, he kneeled over her again. “And just look at this,” he said. He ran two fingers up between her inner labia.

Her back arched as much as it could and she moaned.

He pulled his hand away, glistening wet, and licked her off his fingers in a sensual display. “What a sweet little snack.”

Ada panted helplessly under him.

He dipped his fingers again and pressed them into her mouth and she sucked on them. “That’s a good little dragon. I like it when you taste yourself.”

As he withdrew his fingers he paused, affording Ada a chance to become capable of conscious thought again.

“Ugh, y-you’re too good at this…” she grumbled. “It shouldn’t be allowed…”

“I thought you wanted me to be good at this,” he crooned.

Ada huffed. “I mean, no! But yes! Ugh.”

“What a pretty little predicament you’ve gotten yourself tied up in.”

Ada’s brain turned fuzzy again.

“That’s right, my little dragon. Shhhhhh. Now, before I eat you… I think I’ll use you. For my pleasure.”

“U-use me?”

“Yes, I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

“N-no, anything but that!” Yes, exactly that.

“Well, is there anything you can do about it?” Pasco asked.

Ada struggled against the restraints with renewed fervor.

“Uh oh. Looks like, nope. You’re stuck here and I am going to ravage you.”

That kicked off a moan of pleasure that lasted until Pasco’s tip was pressed against her entrance. She gasped, moaned, her hips bucking towards him. “P-please, no…”

He took his shaft in his hand and ran his tip back and forth, just inside her inner labia.

“No,” she whimpered, “Please no, it’s gonna feel…”

He pressed just a bit further inside of her.

“It’s gonna feel…”

His tip teased her clenching muscles. Her legs were firmly tied apart, there was no way she could press them together, to stop or slow what was about to happen.

“It’s gonna feel too good!” she screamed, as he pressed fully inside of her.

“Too good?” he said, staying there.

Her sex throbbed in waves of teasing pleasure around him and she quivered. “W-way too good,” she gasped.

“How is such a thing possible?” he crooned. He started thrusting in her.

Ada just moaned mindlessly. Minutes passed like that, Pasco fading back into his own pleasure, fucking her to his preferred rhythm.

Especially with her legs spread out, she couldn’t clench or grind or do any of the things that would have brought her more sensation. It was absolutely, delightfully, torturing.

“P-please,” she gasped, “s-stop it f-feels… it feels too good…”

Pasco grinned wolfishly down at her and growled, nibbling the base of her neck.

“Harder!” she gasped.

He bit her in earnest.

She screamed with delight.

He paused. “Was that too hard?”

“That was great,” she panted. “You could even go a little bit h-harder.”

He started to bite down again.

“But not on the same spot!”

He chose a new spot and bit down harder than before, and Ada gasped and writhed. Her body instinctively tried to recoil from the pain, but she was tightly held, and her mind quivered with arousal.

“How was that?”

“P-perfect,” Ada gasped.

He thrust into her suddenly and she moaned.

“It seems like you really can’t stand this,” he said.

“I c-can’t…”

“And it’s not even the locket holding you back, is it?”

“Nooo…” she whined. “You f-feel so good but I c-can’t come…”

“Then there won’t be any harm if I do this.”

Do what?

Pasco snapped the locket shut, quieting the song. He started to fuck her in earnest, with primal, growling need, and she understood his intent. He was going to come in her and there was nothing she could do about it. It was going to be wonderful torture.

“No! No, please! You c-can’t do that to me…”

“I can and I will.”

“P-please stop! You can’t do this to me!” He pounded her into the makeshift mattress. She floated on heady pleasure. “Please, no… no…” She wished that she was teetering on the edge, but she was not.

Even as Pasco pressed more fully into her, providing more sensation to her clit, there was no hint of release. It wasn’t that it wasn’t enough to make her climax, so much that it just wasn’t the right type of stimulation to make her climax. Its effect was to make her whole body feel hot and dizzy in the most wonderful, agonizing way.

“I can’t take it, I can’t take it if you—”

“Fuck, I’m gonna pump you so full!”

Ada screamed with a mix of frustration and ecstasy, her body quivering with sympathetic pleasure as he pounded his climax into her.

As he finished, ‘spent’ was not anywhere close to a word that she would use to describe him. He smirked up at her, not going soft in the least, and thrust into her again, slowly this time.

She whimpered.

He pressed up into her, just to tease her, and paused.

“Check in,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Ada moned.

“Is that a good ‘ugh’ or a bad ‘ ugh’?”

“Gooood… though I’m already so hazy at this point, if you did that again I’d just… float… away…”

“Hmmm.” Pasco considered this, resting his cheek on her breast. “I wouldn’t want that.” He pushed himself back up onto his knees and opened the locket.

“W-what are you doing?”

He gripped his hands around her thighs and leaned down. “Keeping you riiiight here… just where I want you…”

And he pressed his tongue into her, licking her vigorously, and she was panting and shaking again in short order. 

His tongue reached up and into her even more than usual. He paused a moment to lick his lips. “Gods, I taste so good mixed with you.”

That sent a quiver of near-orgasmic pleasure through her and he milked that to full denial. 

“No no no no, please!”

He gave her a moment’s respite, her chest heaving, and then set upon her again.

“Noooo,” she whined, “you feel too good…”

He moaned into her. “I love it when you say that.”

“It’s true! You feel so f-fucking good I can’t s-stand it…”

He licked her greedily and soon had her pressed against the wall of another denied climax.

He sat back to watch her as he let her shake. “That’s another pretty little predicament, isn’t it. You can’t help but beg… but I love it when you do… and so I push you to the edge again. The closer you are, the more you beg… the closer you are… the more you beg…”

Ada’s whole body vibrated, sending tremors through the ropes like a fly in a spider’s web and she whimpered. “It’s n-not fair…”

“Do you want it to be fair?”

All Ada could do was pout at him, but he wiped that off her face with another long lick that had her eyes rolling back with ecstasy.

“P-please let me come, please! I n-need it! I need it so bad!”

“That’s not true,” he said, tracing teasing fingers over her stomach. “You’re a dirty little liar, aren’t you. Be honest.”

Ada dropped down into a hot, thick water, struggling to stay afloat and pulling herself back up to conscious thought.

“I said, be honest. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m t-trying, what do you want?”

“Well, do you need to… or do you want to?”

Ada leaped at the opportunity to please him. “I want it! I want it so bad, oh gods, I want it so bad…” She wanted to pull at the ropes but she was too tired from all her prior shaking, so she just hung there. “Please… please I want it so bad…”

“Hm. Maybe. But not yet. I’m not done using you.”

“No. Oh no. Not that, please.”

“Yes, that.” He loomed over her, stroking himself, preparing.

With the unnatural edge that the sirens’ magic held her on, she might actually come like this. Or, try to.

“B-but you’ll take longer this time! You j-just came!”

“Yes,” he said. “Exactly.”

“D-don’t, no, I c-can’t, please, no, don’t—” but the part that she really meant, the part that she screamed as he entered her, was “fuck me!”

This time, he fucked her hard right from the start, his refractory period lending him extra endurance.

His body pressed her into the sailcloth and the ecstasy from him pressed her into the wall of denial of the song. She was so perfectly, wonderfully, crushed. Pleasure oozed out of her like juice squeezed from a grape, like her mind dribbling out from her ears.

As he fucked her to his own climax, growling so primally as he did, her sympathetic ecstasy tilted her into a real predicament. She edged. And edged again.

As he withdrew from her, the pleasure of it sent her over again.

He felt it all, through the locket.

Then again. And again. Even without him touching her at all, just the feeling of being so close to him sent her wordlessly spasming again.

She would have edged endlessly and into insanity if Pasco had not had the sensitivity to take a few big steps back and close the locket.

All of the tension screamed out of her body like a ballista firing, and she echoed between dragon and human even more intensely than she had at the sirens’ hands.

It was completely beyond her comprehension, and her mind broke in utter bliss until she finally came to senses, panting in a puddle in the center of the sail cloth. The ropes hung slack from the four trees, snapped from the force of her transformation, though the trees themselves held firm. 

Pasco kneeled at her head, his knees in the puddle. Her head was cradled on his thighs and he had drawn her hair over them. He was running his fingers through, and the sensation was soft and perfect.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

“Y-yes… this is… perfect…”

“How was that?”

“You’re… ngh, so fucking good at that.”

“So it was… it was good?”

“It was so good, Pasco, you have no idea…”

“I really don’t,” he whispered softly. “But I believe you.”

She realized, through her haze, that she was perhaps being selfish. “How was it for you?”

“Well, it felt a bit awkward… until I started to see how much you were really enjoying it. The way you said it was ‘too good’ that… that really worked for me.”

She snuggled into his lap. “So you like torturing me with pleasure?”

He chuckled and brushed his fingers over her forehead. “I really do. I didn’t know if I would but… I like learning things with you.”

“I really like that, too.”

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Part 5: Paradise, The Dragon's Tower

Chapter 26: Yes, Captain

Pasco massaged her forehead with his thumb and then pressed her gently back. Ada reluctantly let his shaft all the way out of her mouth, kissing his tip before settling back to the edge of the rock between his knees.

He sat up straight and looked closely at the locket again, then looked to Ada.

She nodded, as nervous and eager as him to see what happened.

He opened the locket.

A soft note rang out of it, filling the air around them, and it became a gentle melody. “I can hear it,” Pasco said, “So that’s at least helpful. How do you feel?”

“About the same, which is to say, good.”

Pasco dipped his hand into the jar of aloe and then wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking gently. His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment. “How about now?”

The song accelerated in tempo, the melody becoming more complex. “About the same as whenever you touch yourself in front of me, which is to say, really fucking turned on.”

Pasco laughed and then sighed happily as he stroked himself. “There’s a couple of different ways that this could work. It could sync your level of arousal with mine, though that seems a bit overly limiting and not quite what you experienced with the siren. It could cap your arousal at wherever mine’s at, or it could let you be anywhere at all except you can’t come until I do.”

Ada considered the options. “Well, the quickest way to prove definitively which it is would be for me to see if I can work myself to the edge while you’re still warming up. If I can do that, we know it’s the last one.”

Pasco grinned devilishly. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Ada realized what she’d just done. Oh no. “I take it back. It’s a terrible idea. I don’t want that at all.”

Pasco’s smile didn’t waver. He was becoming more confident as he grew accustomed to Ada’s playful protests. “Really? Then why are your eyes so dilated? And why aren’t you saying your word? And why are you already touching yourself?”

Was she? Ada looked down. She totally was. Her hand, unbidden, had slipped below the water and was pressed against her vulva. Ada whimpered. “Because.”

“Because you’re a dirty little liar?”

Ada gasped, surprised by the wave of arousal. She never would have expected a few little words to have such an overwhelming effect.

“Do you like it when I talk to you like that?” Pasco crooned.

Ada’s face flushed bright red. She nodded.

“What if I call you a needy little slut?”

Ada gasped again, her chin sliding down to rest on the rock, her eyes turned pleadingly up at Pasco. She thought she might slide off the rock and drown in the most wonderful way possible.

Was it the siren’s magic? Or was it just Pasco? She’d have to ask him later — or, even better, goad him into talking to her like that again.

“Be a good little dragon,” Pasco said, “And come up here on this rock and masturbate yourself to orgasm.”

Ada squeaked. “Yes, sir!”

“Yes, Captain.”

Ada nodded emphatically. “Yes, Captain.”

She hauled herself out of the water and onto the warm rock next to Pasco, lying on her back and looking up at him. He picked up the pot with his free hand, his other still stroking himself, and poured some aloe over Ada’s hips and vulva. 

She shivered and gasped, the aloe cold after the warmth of the water. The shock added to her arousal and her hand was over her labia and swirling in the slippery fluid before she even consciously thought to do so.

Pasco kept stroking himself, cool and calm, as he looked down over her.

She thought she might melt into that warm rock forever.

Pasco cleared his throat. “I believe, my little dragon, that I told you to fuck yourself silly.”

Ada gasped and accelerated her pace and she felt herself collapsing into mindless urgency.

A few glorious minutes passed and she started to tip towards climax.

And then stopped. She shuddered, and then the sensation faded back to pre-orgasmic.

Her eyes flashed open and she saw Pasco leaning over her, still looking smug, still stroking himself slowly, luxuriously, without a hint of hurry.

Ada gulped.

“Ooooh,” Pasco said, “I felt that one.”

“Please let me come!” Ada gasped. “I’m so close…”

“And I have so very far to go,” Pasco crooned.

“Why are you doing this to me…”

“You did this to yourself, remember? This experiment was your idea. And it was very clever. We did indeed prove that the only thing it does is stop you from coming before I do.”

Ada huffed and pouted, and then she listened for the song. It was still as it had been a few minutes prior. A bit louder, the melody a bit more insistent, but it was still overall smooth and sensual. It was the sort of song that you might drink a glass of wine and then relax back to simply listen, to experience. To bask and savor…

And that was exactly what Pasco was doing to her! He was buzzed on arousal, just sitting back and relaxing and enjoying the music and her moans.

It wasn’t fair! Here she was, pleading and begging and desperate, and he was just enjoying himself. Drawing it out. She loved it. She hated it. Hating it turned her on even more.

“Pasco, I can’t handle this, I’m gonna die…”

Pasco chuckled. “Dramatic, much? If you want it to end so badly, why don’t you just come take the necklace? You were so eager to before.”

Ada huffed. One of her hands was curled up into her vagina, the other rubbing circles around her vulva. Even though she knew she would get no release like this, she couldn’t bear to stop.

“No?” Pasco said. “You must be fine, then.”

“I’m nooot!” Ada whined. “I j-just, I…”

“You just what?” Pasco teased.

“I j-just, I can’t!” Desperation and hot arousal swelled within her.

“Nothing is stopping you.” Pasco pulled his legs up under him, coming closer to Ada and leaning over her, so that the locket dangled teasingly over her chest. “Just reach up and take it.”

“I can’t!”

“I don’t see anything in your way. No ropes… nothing on top of you…”

Ada’s chest heaved, her breasts bouncing. “You know I can’t!”

“I don’t know at all,” Pasco said. “You’ll have to tell me. Then maybe I’ll consider your excuse.”

“I c-can’t s-stop touching myself,” Ada said. “It f-feels too good.”

“Ooooh, I see. So what I’m hearing is that you could just reach up and take it, if you weren’t…” He paused.

Ada hung on his words. She rubbed herself desperately. Oh no, what was he going to say?”

“…such a thirsty… greedy… drooling… little slut.”

Ada’s body surged towards climax again, shaking, the pleasure there but the release staying ever out of reach, just as Pasco had kept the locket out of her reach before. 

The song, like Pasco, was gentle yet immovable. He denied her again.

As the sensation of the edge faded again, Ada heard the song quicken, the melody more jovial, more urgent, and within her frustration was a spark of hope.

Pasco had stayed kneeling over her, the necklace still dangling tantalizingly in front of her. All she had to do was reach up and close it, and the song would end, and she would come.

But she could not tear her hands away from herself because she really did not want to. Just as she liked the feeling of pulling against the ropes, she liked this feeling of fighting against something, even as she wanted absolutely everything that it had to offer.

“You’re in luck,” Pasco huffed, “Because seeing you quiver like that really turns me on.”

“T-tell me what you like,” Ada gasped, “I w-want to make you come!”

“Hmmm I don’t know. I like to see you denied.”

It took Ada a moment to make sense of what he was saying, and she wanted to be sure she had it right. “S-so the more I try to come, the f-faster you will come?”

Pasco moaned happily, a droplet of pre-cum beading at his tip. “Definitely.”

Ada slowed down her desperate rubbing for a moment to consider this. It was a time versus intensity tradeoff decision. If she really let herself go, really pushed herself up to the edge, then she would experience more deprivation and yet faster relief. If this worked anything like the way the sirens’ magic had, then she would have that many more orgasms flow through her body in rapid succession.

As torturous as it had been, something about the idea of testing the siren’s magic, of seeing just how many orgasms she could finally string together, made the decision for her.

“Okay, okay,” Ada finally said.

“Have you decided?”

“Yes! P-pasco I’m gonna… I’m gonna come!”

“You can try,” Pasco said, and the delicious growl sent Ada teetering headlong into the brick wall that had become her edge.

Before she had even come down she threw herself into it again, fingers gripping at her spot, hand rubbing furiously against her clit. She twisted and writhed and moaned, her whole body begging wordlessly for sensation, for relief, and she screamed as she teetered on the edge before being pulled back down by the insistent weight of the song, like a sailor to a watery grave.

Ada was unaware of anything other than her lust-drunk haze and the song. Now that she was pushing up against its boundaries, the song remained ever at the foremost of her awareness. Every time Ada edged herself, every time she screamed and shook and begged on the rock, the song grew a bit louder. A bit faster. It drifted and swelled in time with Pasco’s arousal.

If Ada had given herself over to the song, she may have actually been able to keep her arousal alongside Pasco’s, like a dog on a leash and heeled dutifully at the ankle of their master.

But Ada was rabid, frothing at the mouth, yowling from inside a muzzle, yanking desperately on the leash, first one way and then the other, hoping and begging for the master to make a misstep so that she could finally do what her body was screaming at her to do and run.

A new tone started in the song and it began to crescendo. Ada opened her eyes.

Pasco’s face was enraptured, shining with pre-orgasmic bliss.

Ada shoved herself to the edge again, elated and eager for her final release…

But the song did not break, it held a long note and then pulled back down, and Ada quivered, confused, on the rock.

Pasco grinned down at her, no longer so composed, but still clearly very in control of himself. “You didn’t think I was going to let you off that easy, did you?”

“Yes!” Ada whimpered. “T-this is n-not easy!”

“Foolish little dragon,” Pasco said, though he panted now. “We play by my rules now.”

Now that the song was so close to the peak, so loud and insistent, Ada could not help but be swept along in its verses. As Pasco edged, her body tried to climax but was denied. Each time, a new instrument joined the building crescendo, a new flavor of pleasure.

This was exactly what she had wanted. This was exactly what she could not get any other way. She fought against it so hard, and the fighting felt so good.

Ada lost count of how many times he edged them like that, though she did notice the way his breathing became more and more ragged, and his skin became damp with sweat. She noticed the way he dripped, and that it landed in the center of her chest.

She wanted to beg him to come on her, to tip him over the edge that way, but she could not stop moaning and panting, because she could not stop rubbing herself.

“Ada…” Pasco moaned. The song ticked towards crescendo again, now a full symphony.

“Yeah?” Hope flickered anew.

“Ada… I’m coming!”

“Yes!”

This experiment gave them one other crucial piece of information, which was that its magic did not cause Ada to orgasm with Pasco, but rather after him. She lay on the rock as he pumped rope after rope of cum onto her chest, the longest she had ever seen him orgasm for, and as his last few quivers dripped onto her skin, she hovered in a moment of sheer suspense.

And then it was as if the ground dropped out from under her and she plummeted with a delighted scream into the weightless, senseless bliss of climax.

She came only once, though with the echoing waves of pleasure that rippled powerfully through her, she was hard-pressed to say whether you could really call it just one orgasm. She did, however, remain a dragon. Her body had spilled down into the pool and her head rested on the warm rock next to Pasco.

The locket was still open, and the song was very soft, and very calm.

Ada’s draconic arousal started to fight against it, and she quivered. She would have come immediately, if not for the locket’s magic. She worried that she might actually hurt Pasco if he teased her like this.

But Pasco took a deep breath and put his hand gently on her snout. “Shhhh,” he said. “Breath with me. In…”

She did, pulling a wind past Pasco and ruffling his still-damp hair.

“And out…”

Her hot breath washed over him, drying his sweat.

After a few more cycles, Ada found herself relaxing. The waterfall washed pleasantly over her back, like a heavy blanket.

Pasco’s hand on her snout was sensual, intimate, but not sexual. She listened to the song, really just listened, and she realized then that she had not once, ever before, felt calm as a dragon.

She started to purr and they just lay like that, him stroking her muzzle, her dozing in the sun, for a long while.

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