The Dragon's Mistress (Dragon Erotica)

by Tessa Black

  "Shhh," she calmed him, straining her ears to hear. She could feel her heart pounding furiously in her chest.

  "Well, if it isn't little Gladia," a cool, male voice came from behind her. She turned around slowly and saw that a dull light was growing from behind the tree where she set up camp.

  "Who are you?" she said, trying to steady her voice. "As the Princess of Aspen I command you to show yourself!"

  "Oh, how very amusing. They have you calling yourself their princess do they?" The light grew so that she could see the colors of the trees nearby, and out from behind the shadows stepped a tall, pale man with dark hair and eyes. He was taller than any man she had ever seen, and a faint aura surrounded him, so that he looked otherworldly.

  "Who are you?" she commanded again.

  "Gladia, Gladia. You've lost all that was nymphish about you. You look just like them. What a pity." He strode towards her elegantly. Guinevere fought the urge to run.

  "That is not my name. And I warn you, creature, I will slay you."

  "Oh but that you would," he said, with a gleam in his eye. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers, sending the sword flying out of her hands and twenty yards behind her and into the heart of another tree. She gasped, unable to hide her surprise. Cameron had warned her about the creatures she would encounter, and it was only then that she understood how foolhardy she had been.

  "You truly do not remember. You have even lost the magic within you," the tall man said with a strange mix of pity and amusement on his chiseled countenance.

  "Please," Guinevere pleaded, the hard edge of her voice lost in the ghostly night. "Tell me who you are before you slay me."

  "Slay you?" the man laughed. "You left me with a wounded heart, I admit, but you're not so beautiful I'll slay you over it. Come now, don't be so vain. It's me, Erik. We were lovers before you were recast as a human."

  "What are you saying? That I was a nymph?" If she weren't so afraid she would have laughed.

  "You were, yes," he said, sauntering over to Taerion and petting him. He was nervous at first, but Guinevere wondered if he had some sort of sedative on his person, for her normally alert horse began to calm down. "You were Alabastor's daughter. The Emperor of us nymphs here in the land you humans call The King's Forest. But you were always so naughty," he flashed her a brilliant smile, intoxicating her with a mere glance. "You loved running off into the mountains, being a wild thing. My wild thing," he purred. "But then you went off and got yourself in trouble with Mortagon. You promised him you would be his mistress for the rest of eternity in exchange for the Nymphen Scepter he stole many years back. You had not intended on keeping your promise, and so your poor father begged of the human king, the one of Aspen, to take you in as his own. You were reborn as a human—though I say, you look remarkably similar to how you did all those years ago..."

  Guinevere was dumbstruck. "And you expect me to believe all of that, do you?"

  Erik shook his head and walked over to her, gripping her wrist before she had a chance to pull it away. "You may believe this," he said, bringing her wrist up to her face so that she could examine the outline of a dimly glowing star on her wrist.

  "It is the mark of a nymph's soul. It can only hide in another form, it cannot truly become at home in one," he said, holding up his left wrist to reveal a tattooed star.

  Guinevere snapped her hand back. It suddenly made so much sense. All the rumors, and why she looked so different. Why her father balked at her questions about her identity. She was truly not of Aspen. She wondered suddenly if her dreams to protect it were foolish.

  "Don't be so cold," Erik murmured, tracing a cool hand over her cheek. "I have waited so long to see you again, standing before me. Just give me one night, just one, and I will take you where ever it is your wandering soul desires to go."

  "I want to go back to Mortagon," she said in a hush, suddenly unsure.

  "You never learn, do you? Fine. But you must follow me to my dwelling. Tomorrow we shall travel to the foot of those unspeakable mountains."

  Guinevere nodded. She clambered up on Taerion and Erik took the reins in his hand to lead them through the dark forest, the light from his body surrounding them like an aura. Even in the light the clawed hands of the trees sent shivers down Guinevere's spin. He led them for what felt like an hour (which gave Guinevere plenty of time to imagine the horrible things that he might do to her in exchange for his service) until they reached a clearing filled with tall dwellings, each as tall as the castle itself, though not as wide. People milled about, tall and ethereal looking like him. A few looked up and stared at Guinevere, but Erik seemed to communicate something with his eyes.

  "Am I an intruder here?" she asked quietly.

  "No. They can read me thoughts...and yours. Though really, they don't like you much for what trouble you put the kingdom under, so they are choosing to ignore you."

  Guinevere's heart sank. She felt awful for something she could not even remember doing, in a life that felt so far away from her. Then, something dawned on her. "So...can you read my thoughts as well?"

  "Yes," Erik laughed. "I'm not going to torture you. I just want to have some fun," he said, a wide smile spreading across his face as he turned back to look at her for a moment. They approached one of the thin castles, which had no candlelight flickering inside of it like the others, and he tied up Taerion to a tree just before it. Guinevere kissed her horse softly, nervous for what awaited her inside.

  They entered and the building was not cold like a castle, but rather, warm like the outside had been. It was dark, and their bodies lit the hall revealing furniture, even chairs that were cut from marble. Erik took her hand and led her down a flight of spiral stairs that hid behind a door to their immediate left. At the bottom there was a wide, almost barren room with white walls and a large, brass bed in the middle with a canopy.

  "Ladies first," Erik said, a wry smile on his beautiful face. He let go of her hand and waived to the bed. Suddenly, she felt so foolish for not understanding what he had meant before. Of course this is what he wanted.

  Guinevere nodded and walked towards the bed, pausing at the foot of it.

  "I will ask you to please, disrobe, Princess," Erik's deep, sultry voice came from behind her.

  Chills gripped her body as she undid the buttoning of her plain brown riding dress. Her hands reached the base of her back, and she hesitated for a moment before pulling her frock down to reveal her smooth, naked body. Erik murmured something behind her.

  "S-sorry?" she said, turning her head around to see that he was shirtless. The broad expanse of his chiseled chest caused her to gasp. His skin was stunning and glittering under the light of his own aura.

  "I said, you are stunning. Now crawl onto the bed like a good princess."

  Guinevere complied, suddenly aching for his body to be near. She could feel him approaching from behind. He said something she could not decipher and suddenly golden ropes appeared around her wrists and bound her to the posts of the bed. She could feel them around her ankles too, and a quick glance confirmed their presence.

  "Don't bother to fight it, Gladia. You are mine once again," he chuckled softly and she looked behind her to see him raise a whip in his hand and bring it down onto the soft flesh of her behind. She yelped as the resounding smack filled her body with a delicious pain. He cracked the whip again, sending another jolt of fiery ecstasy through her veins.

  "Don't you remember now, this pleasure?" he asked, crawling over her back to whisper into her ear.

  "Yes," she gasped, a flood of memories racing through her mind. She knew Erik and she knew this place. This was their paradise, this little room where they fought for control and enraptured each other with stimulation.

  "You always wanted to control some land or another. You still do. But tonight I will give you a lesson in dominance." Guinevere watched in awe as he dropped his white linen pants to reveal a massive, hard manhood. She recognized it, and the memory of him taking her caused an e
ruption of desire in her loins.

  "Oh, please," she moaned. "Take me. It has been so long since I've been touched."

  Erik grinned and reached up to grab her long hair, pulling it in his tight grasp so that she could no longer look back. A small cry escaped her lips, and she felt him press against her quivering sex.

  "Will this be your first time as a human woman?" he asked, pulling her hair tighter still.

  "Yes," she gasped, the pain from her scalp shooting down to her womanhood. He probed her with the tip of his manhood, gyrating its smooth tip against her gushing wetness. A sumptuous thudding swept her body and she groaned, pleading in her mind for him to spear her.

  "If you insist," he laughed lowly, just before he filled her with a surge of aching hardness. He stimulated a storm within her as the walls of her wild flower throbbed around him. She was like a volcano, bubbling with wanton desire. Erik reached his hands up her body and groped her bountiful chest, pulling the nipples into his palms. He pulled back and thrust into her, causing her to whimper.

  "Should I fill you with my seed?" he coaxed. Guinevere, forgetting her resolve to become a man, shuddered at the thought. It sounded so delectable to her, and she gave a wistful nod of her head.

  "Please." Her legs clenched as he continued to stab himself into her and set her loins ablaze with passion. "Fill me. Make me yours."

  "You have always been," he growled, and with that he thrust harder than he ever had before, sending Guinevere's face to the soft bed. She gripped the luxurious sheets into her palms, panting desperately against them. He continued to pound into her, a loud thudding filling the room as his sex smacked against her round buttocks. She yelped, a thudding drum sounding off in her delicate womanhood. It was hard and yearning for release, pent up inside of her with bolts of rushing blood. She was growing and hardening, and she could feel Erik do the same.

  "Say you want it," he commanded.

  "I want it!" she cried desperately. The fire grew, consuming her and pulsing with greater force. She felt him shudder inside of her, filling her with a flood of wet longing and she exploded, a rapture gripping her limbs and thrashing about until she convulsed. After several moments the quake subsided, slowly, turning the yearning into a steady contentment.

  "You are marked by me," Erik laughed. "May the princess bring to me a little prince."

  Erik awoke her early the next morning, shaking her shoulders and forcing her to get dressed.

  "The more we travel during the daylight, the better. Us inhabitants of the Man of the Dead Land avoid it as much as possible."

  Guinevere forced herself out of bed, remembering her mission and cursing herself for her actions the night before. She should not have taken his seed, but if she were to become a man, she imagined it would not make much difference either way.

  Erik fed her some foreign and gamey meat, and a heavenly mead that he swore would give her energy and take place for the sleep she lacked. She immediately felt a buzz coursing through her veins.

  Outside all of the nymphs that were previously milling about were nowhere to be seen. The two of them hoisted themselves on Taerion, with Erik in the lead. They rode out into the forest, which was denser and bleaker than the King's Forest she had known, filled with bogs and quicksand that Erik knew like the back of his hand.

  "Careful here," he would say, grabbing the reins of Taerion and guiding them away from danger. Guinevere would ask him questions about her previous life and he would inform her. In her past life as a nymph she also wanted to seize the empire--that was why she went after the dragon's treasure. She felt that returning it would so move her father that he would undoubtedly name her next in line.

  "But I'm sure like I do now, I wanted what was best for the empire," she said with a curt nod of her head.

  "No, you wanted power. Then as you do now. You can call yourself whatever you want, Gladia, but you haven't changed. You are a power hungry woman in a man's world," he laughed, causing Guinevere to scowl.

  They continued on through the forest until dusk, when they finally reached the base of the goliath Mountains of Hellspring. The land jutted up before her, like an angry god had raised the forest. From the inclined forest jagged cuts of rock shot out into the heavens, patched with dark dirt and the occasional patches of green.

  "This is where I leave you," Erik said with a solemn nod.

  "And the dragon?" Guinevere asked, trying to keep a calm demeanor.

  "There," Erik said, pointing to a gap in the rock above them. Guinevere nodded. Taerion stomped his hooves and whinnied in fear.

  "You do not have to pretend to be brave," Erik said, giving her the most severe look she had seen on his countenance to date. "There is nothing wrong with accepting the life you have been given."

  "The life I have been given is that of society's slave. If I can't rule as a woman, than I will rule as a man--or die."

  Erik shook his head. "Still just as stubborn." He reached out his wide hand and stroked her face delicately. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in, relishing in the last moments of his cool touch.

  "Goodbye, Erik," she said, putting her hand over his and gently removing it. She gave him a small smile. "Perhaps one day we shall meet again."

  "Perhaps," he said, forcing a smile of his own. "Goodbye."

  Guinevere turned away as Erik lowered himself from Taerion's back. She gave him a quick swift kick and she forced herself not to look back. She knew the future king of Aspen could not dwell on past romances.

  They reached the large black opening of Mortagon's cave, the cool air greeting them from the inside. She kissed Taerion and tied him up to a nearby tree, leaving him some oats and apples.

  "I do not know when I shall return, but have faith," she whispered as she stroked his mane. He munched happily, unaware that his owner may not return and he may be left out in the wild to fend for himself.

  Guinevere pulled a cloak from out of her bag and wrapped it around herself, pulling it closely to her body with one arm and holding her torch with the other. Cameron had enchanted it so that it would burn in any cave without being struck and would not go out as long as she held it.

  Inside the cave she could hear the slow dripping of water echoing across the walls. She held up her torch to see long rock fangs protruding from the ceiling and up from the ground around her. The cave widened before her, and she turned to see in every directions that the walls had repelled from her.

  "Who dares enter my lair," came a loud, inhuman voice. It sounded like hell had risen through the cave to address her.

  Guinevere took a deep breath and placed a hand on the hilt of her sword. "It is I," she said loudly. "Princess Guinevere of Aspen. I have come to retrieve the stone."

  "Princess Guinevere?" the voiced paused and she heard a long hiss. Suddenly the ground beneath her rumbled. The dragon appeared within the glow of her torch. He was wide and large, but not quite so large as she had imagined. Rather, he seemed two men long and two men thick, with dark brown scales on his back and sharp ridges along each side of it. His snout was long and rounded at the end, and his eyes were the size of a large man's fist, red with dark slits down the middle. Guinevere had never seen anything so intimidating in her life.

  "You lie!" he roared, jumping back on his hind legs to reveal the expanse of his smooth white stomach. Guinevere fell to the ground in shock and pulled her sword out in front of her, ready for a fight. There was a blazing heat and a flash of light, and she wondered for a moment if this was how she would die. But a moment later she could still feel her heart beating in her chest, and she opened her eyes to see that flaming torches lit the wide cave. On the floor surrounding her there were broken bits of bone and skull, some with rags still clinging to them, weapons scattered about. She suddenly realized how little fear she could hope to inspire in the dragon. This truly was suicide.

  "I do not lie. End me Mortagon, quick. For my life is no life at all without that stone," she said bravely, lowering her sword as she stood to me
et her death.

  "You are Gladia! They have recast you as a human, but I can smell your blood--it is the same."

  "I have been reborn," she declared. "I am no longer Gladia. Once you kill me, I will be remembered as Guinevere—Gladia is already dead."

  "No," the dragon roared. "I will not kill you. You will be my mistress once again, as you swore!" A flash of light and heat came from Mortagon's mouth, and Guinevere flinched as the fire from his large nostrils struck the ground beside her, charring the broken bits of bone into black dust.

  "But what use do you have for me as a mistress? What companionship could such a monster want?" Guinevere roared back, no longer afraid of death.

  "To your knees," Mortagon hissed, a long, black tongue shooting from between his teeth, evenly forked down the middle.

  "Never. Kill me as I stand, a warrior," Guinevere demanded.

  "You foolish girl! Would you risk Aspen for your pride?" Mortagon's wings stretched, and he revealed their goliath width, twice the size of his own body. Guinevere felt her heart sink--she knew that if he chose he could fly over her kingdom and roast it within minutes.

  "As you wish," she said in a hush, the miserable numbness of defeat filling her body. She feel to her knees and the dragon approached her, the ground shaking with every movement of his body. Guinevere gasped as the dragon's sex came into view--it was long and bifurcated like his tongue, and each side was as thick as her wrist. It was a light, almost translucent pink with popping veins of various colors. It was hideous. Her own sex trembled in fear.

  "No," she gasped in horror.

  "Take it into your mouth, our the kingdom you love will cease to exist!" the dragon roared, thrusting his lower half so that his hardened sex collided with her face, sending her backwards to crash against the hard cave floor.

  Guinevere scrambled to her knees and faced the monster cock, opening her pretty lips and puzzling over how to fit it in her mouth. She gave one side of the member a small lick and grabbed the other with her hand. It was cool and wet, and felt soothing against her tongue. She moved her mouth alongside it, running her mouth against the length of it while she slide her hand on the other side. Shivers shot down her spine as she felt the familiar ache grow inside of her. Her legs tensed as she reached the base of it, where it disappeared into his smooth white belly. She gripped each side with both hands and pulled back. Mortagon stamped a foot and hissed, sending a shot of lust through her body. She slid her hands and her body so that her mouth was facing the tip of his goliath cock. She did her best to fight against the restraints of her jaw and took in the tip of his sex, rejoicing silently over its massive girth and cool, slick feel. Her mouth salivated and mixed with the milky whiteness that covered Mortagon's member. She eagerly moved her head forward, taking as much as she could before choking.