Chapter 4
Chapter Four
The dragon let out a groan of profound ecstasy as Clove worked it over.
Its coiled body tightened, squeezing, to hold Clove firmly in place, then in one deep thrust, plunged its cock into Clove’s hole.
Clove cried out, tensing, when the flared tip popped inside, but he couldn't help but move his hips, coaxing the intruder inward.
It was his virginity. His!
But as selfishly as he'd wanted to guard that treasure, he couldn't help his own greed as the dragon's cock slipped inside.
Desire mastered him completely.
Writhing, gasping, panting, he clenched around it as it stole from him.
It was so much thicker than the dragon’s tongue—hotter, more substantial, better—and hazy from the high of sex and the intoxicating pollen in the air, he found himself wishing this massive thing would never leave him.
It shouldn’t have been able to fit—should have ripped him in two—but somehow, he was intact, and more than that, he loved the feeling of being made wet and forced full.
The pleasure of it bubbled into his brain and made it impossible to think about anything else.
He needed this cock inside of him.
Needed it to empty into him and give him what he deserved.
“Fuck me.” Clove’s voice was thin and strained with yearning, his eyelids ever drooping, his body lax as the dragon’s cock remained still inside of him.
He turned his head, letting his lips brush the cockhead he’d been neglecting since he’d been penetrated, and pleaded for what he wanted with a swirl of his tongue.
“Want it deeper. Want it hard. Want it all inside me.”
The dragon hissed, and in an instant, the thick head pushed onward, digging him open as it went.
The passage Clove had grown so aware of before sang to life again, filling with shocking speed and depth.
The shaft seemed to burrow only deeper and deeper, with no sign of stopping, and Clove cried out again and again, the sensation beyond words.
When it finally did stop, it did not withdraw.
It remained inside of him, filling him so completely that Clove’s breath came shorter, his very lungs compressed by the bulk of the intrusion.
He was stuffed so full, the dragon loosened its coils and allowed Clove to recline upon its body—it was clear the beast no longer feared that he would flee.
With the coils out of the way, Clove noticed the sigils on his belly burned now with increased intensity, shining so brightly, they were almost blindingly white.
But not even the brightest light could hide what else he saw when he looked down his body—his stomach, once flat, now bulged as if he were with child.
Unable to catch his breath, Clove laid a hand on the new roundness and pushed, only to trigger the sigils just like he had before. The urge to give in to pleasure filled his mind and body both, and this time, he did not fight it. He pushed down more firmly and let those feelings possess him.
Inside of him, the fullness that had rounded his stomach began to ripple.
The dragon had begun to thrust.
Its cock, stuffed so completely into Clove that he had swollen from it, pleasured itself inside of him, and as the dragon groaned and dipped its head while that pleasure took hold, Clove was filled with a strange sense of pride.
He was the one making the dragon feel this way.
Him.
His virgin body.
It seemed silly now that he had treated his virginity like treasure locked in a chest, for now that the chest was open, he realized it had been empty this whole time.
It was only now, with each deep thrust, that the dragon was filling it with gold.
No doubt sensing Clove's enthusiasm, or perhaps simply picking up on it from the way Clove tightened imploringly around its shaft, the beast steadily grew bolder.
Inside of Clove, that long, muscular appendage pushed back and forth, stroking itself with Clove's silken insides.
The length gliding out of him was astonishing—especially as his belly remained completely distended and packed full—but the length sliding back inside was even more incredible.
“Now you are defiled,” said the dragon with a rich, smug chuckle that bled into a moan.
Its words left Clove speechless and wildly aroused, so rather than try to find something to say, he turned his head and put his lips back on the cockhead, thanking the dragon for what it was doing to him with the warmth of his mouth and the wetness of his tongue.
“I’ll defile you in a way no one else can,” the dragon crooned as Clove suckled.
It allowed him another few hungry gulps, then took its organ from Clove’s lips and trailed it down his body, over his rounded stomach to the space between his legs where its twin was hard at work, thrusting frenetically into Clove.
“In a way you’ll never forget. No mere man, no simple walker on the earth, will ever satisfy you… like this.”
There was pressure.
Clove, panting, watched between his legs as the second cock butted up against his stretched hole, strained, and with a squelch, slipped inside.
It was obscene. It was impossible.
But Clove felt neither pain nor fear.
He knew the dragon would not let him die.
The bump swelled. Clove watched, stunned, as he grew bigger. Fuller. He didn't need to press on the sigils anymore in order to feel their magic—he was so full, the dragon's cocks were activating them from the inside.
“Take it,” the dragon hissed, cocks thumping endlessly into Clove.
Each new impact triggered the sigils and brought Clove higher and higher until—as stuffed as he was—he began once more to move his hips, fucking himself on the dragon while the dragon fucked itself into him.
“It’s yours. It was always meant for you.
Every moment of this life, every day and every night, every single step, has been bringing you here to this moment. Bringing you here… to me.”
The beast’s voice was full of some poignancy that Clove couldn’t comprehend. Some significance, some meaning. He didn’t comprehend… but he understood. Somehow.
Understood, and accepted.
Nearby movement caught Clove's eye.
The vines that had been creeping down the bedposts spilled over the dragon’s body, dragging their fat flowers with them to nestle right up against Clove’s cheeks.
Greenery spilled over his shoulders, down his body, and to his thighs.
Vines wrapped around his extremities. One encircled his cock, squeezing and releasing in time to the dragon’s thrusts.
The delicate tip found the slit of Clove's cock, traced along it, and plunged inside.
The sudden fullness was bizarre, but Clove couldn't stop his hips from surging forward, taking the vine deeper, letting it inside.
It twisted and coiled and wriggled, slithering into this untouched part of his body until it sank so deep, it seemed like it might never come out.
In that forbidden place, it pooled, taking up more and more space until the closest flower bumped against the tip of Clove's cock, preventing the vine from moving farther.
The vine shifted and wriggled, manipulating itself until the flower’s petals surrounded Clove's tip, then with a final tug, jerked the flower forward so Clove's cock disappeared inside.
It was not a huge bloom. None of them were.
It only took him about three inches deep.
But as Clove's cock butted against the innermost part of the pistil, the petals shuddered, then sealed themselves around the intruder and began to suck.
The vine in Clove's cock began to thrash.
Meanwhile, the dragon kept thrusting. A darkly possessive look overtook its face.
Clove could not resist.
Did not want to resist.
Panting from exhaustion and twitching from too much pleasure, he let his head fall to the side, where it was cushioned by flowers.
Their scent enveloped him once more, coaxing… coaxing him to surrender.
His muscles went slack. His body loosened, and the things penetrating him took note.
The vines pulsed and heaved, fucking his cock from the inside, while the dragon’s twin shafts twisted together and rubbed up against each other as they moved inside of him. Every inch of Clove’s ravaged passage throbbed, and his own cock twitched and pulsed in response.
He had never been so full.
“More,” he said without realizing he was speaking, mouth moving of its own accord. “More, more, more…”
The dragon’s eyes turned back on him, wild. Primal. Almost mindless. It fanned its wings, nearly tearing the canopy off the bed, then descended on Clove, coiling up around him entirely as its shafts punched in and out, deeper and deeper, squirming, thrashing.
They pummeled Clove’s sigils from the inside with renewed vigor, each stroke creating another starburst of pleasure that drove Clove beyond the point of ecstasy.
“What a treasure,” the dragon murmured, its head coming to rest by Clove’s, its muzzle brushing Clove’s lips.
Sighing with a pleasure that went far behind the physical.
“My treasure.” The words were delivered in a quavering croon, a deep bass that rolled through Clove’s bones, that filled his blood with dragonsong.
Then the dragon ran out its tongue.
It swept over Clove’s chin, down his body, and blanketed his swollen belly.
The tip tucked under Clove’s cock. It licked him long and firm, off for a heartbeat and then on again, in time with the pulsing of the vines.
It was a hot lick that caressed his entire body, a lick that lapped his cock and stroked his stomach while the dragon fucked him hard and steady high up into his chest.
And it drove Clove out of his mind.
Overwhelmed and operating on primal instinct alone, Clove grabbed on to the dragon's horns and pushed their mouths together, sloppily running his tongue over the tongue that was licking him.
The sigils on his stomach burned.
The twining cocks inside of him pounded on, while the dragon’s tongue and the vines played with Clove’s shaft in tandem and the flower continued to suckle.
It was too much.
Too good.
Clove's knuckles turned white and his body seized. Whimpering into the dragon's tongue, he climaxed hard and helplessly.
He did not stop for a long time.
He spilled into the flower, drowning it until it was soaking, seed spilling between its petals that then dripped onto his body. All the while, the dragon's cocks continued to love him, deep and earnest, and the dragon continued to kiss him, mouth him, lick him.
“Everything for you,” the dragon promised. “Everything.”
Its voice was full of lust. Obsession. A devotion which bordered on the bloody.
It hooked a clawed hand around Clove’s back and held him close as it came, hissing great gouts of steam, groaning in sheer ecstasy. It pumped Clove full of seed—so full that when it finally withdrew, Clove’s stomach still bulged slightly, his skin stretched and taut.
Everything.
Clove closed his eyes, eyelids too heavy to keep up any longer, and the dragon laid him carefully upon the bed. Even after the vines crept away, dragging their flowers up overhead, the dragon watched on for some time, chin resting upon the bed. Waiting. Unreadable.
Finally, there came a change.
The dragon reared its head and looked down at Clove’s belly, where the sigils let out a blinding flash of light before vanishing entirely.
It was done.
Sobell showed all of his teeth in one huge smile.
He gazed down at his lover, now so deeply and peacefully asleep that he could have been mistaken for dead, and a sense of euphoria flooded his entire massive being. Victory. Rapture. Finality.
“Never again,” he murmured, his voice little more than a wisp, like the sigh of a dark wind. “Never, love. Never.”