by Calista Skye
- I hope we’re soon at the island, because all the blood has been flowing to my head, and my face must be a similar tone to a tomato.
- One of the bulbs on his cock kind of resembles a tomato, round, but not perfectly so. Like a flattened ball with spiralled ridges.
- Who is Caronerax, anyway? He’s not an ordinary dragon. Anyone can see that. What kind of dragon would their king use as an agent? A smart and strong one, of course. Caronerax fits that bill. But I wonder if I’m missing something here.
- I worry about him getting weaker. I still feel totally right in shooting him back there, during the earthquake — if he had nothing bad in mind, he should have been less aggressive. But I don’t want him to die. Or to get any worse. I have serious trouble thinking of a future where I don’t feel this safety or the total thrill about being this close to a deadly creature, and still being entirely safe. I think I kind of understand what fighter pilots feel, sitting on top of gigantic power with immense destructive potential, but then somehow making it work for you. Except I can’t make Caronerax do anything, of course. He does what he wants.
- I wish I could scratch the back of my knee!
- If I curl my hand around his hips, I can grab his rod from here. Give him some pleasure while he’s carrying me.
- How much longer now? That island was only a couple of miles—
Caronerax lifts me off him and deposits me on firm ground. “Here we are.”
I’m dizzy for a couple of seconds, then look around.
This island in the swamp is like a tiny slice of heaven.
It’s the size of a football field. But no football field was ever this fertile.
There are bushes and trees and various types of grass, as would be expected. It’s just that all of them are bearing some kind of fruit. There are berries and nuts and fruit in every color of the rainbow. There are healing herbs and Cathay Blue and a lot of the spices I know from back at the village. It’s like an orchard or a botanical garden.
But of course this is planet Xren, and nothing here is quite as good as it seems.
“That has to be too good to be true,” I state, peering carefully in among the trees, with branches that are sagging with the weight of their bounty. “It must be a trap of some kind.”
14
- Jennifer -
“Must it?” Caronerax picks a fruit from the top of a small tree. “One wonders what the trapper then expected to trap. I have a feeling not many creatures of any kind are willing to negotiate that swamp. A swamp that completely surrounds this island, I might add.” He hands me the fruit.
It’s a cherry, pretty much. Except when I bite carefully into it, the meat is darker and the flavor more like a sweet orange.
“Good point,” I agree, putting the whole alien not-cherry in my mouth and sucking the juice from it. “I guess only dactyls would be able to come here, and I’ve never seen any of them eat fruit.” I spit out the pit, which is unusually large and reminds me of something. I bring it to my nose and sniff, then deposit it in the pouch around my neck.
We walk around the island to the other side. In the distance is a dark landmass that looks like a continuation of the woods we came from.
I also can’t help noticing the clear, clucking stream that runs into the swamp from somewhere in the middle of the island. For the last hundred feet before it pours quietly into the mud, it flows through a bank of white sand that makes the whole thing look like a beach.
I shake my head. “No, this is definitely a trap. In fact, I bet this creek starts at an idyllic pool that’s much too tempting to not bathe in. Because what do you want when you have worn yourself out wading through that damn swamp? To eat sweet fruit and get clean. Let’s check.”
As it turns out, I’m almost right. There is a crystal clear pool, but there is also an adorable little waterfall that twinkles silvery in the sunlight. A salen tree bends in an arch and dangles its delicious fruits over the pool, so that if you were standing in it, you could pick them.
I put my hands on my hips and shake my head. “Good grief. How stupid do they think we are?”
Caronerax scratches his black beard, which grows as perfectly as the rest of him. “This is tempting to you, somehow?”
“Well, yeah. It is. Like, I bet that waterfall gets the water from a hot spring up there, so the pool is the perfect temperature to take a bath in. Look at the bottom! Did you ever see finer, more perfect sand? Heck, my feet are aching to stand on it and dig into it. Some of the girls have seen traps like this before. Like, a single fruit tree with a single, super-ripe fruit on it, just happening to be growing in a beam of sunlight inside a dark cave. And then when you touch it, a monster pounces on you and devours you. This is more of the same. Give me a break, Xren.”
The dragon dips his toes into the water. “I detect no malice here. Granted, I’m not at the height of my powers, but it seems a lot of effort to go through to catch the only creatures that have been here for what I would guess are many, many years.”
I kick at one of the perfectly smooth rocks that line the pool. “Yeah, well. Monsters can be patient, I’m sure.”
Caronerax looks around. “Then let’s provoke it. If there is danger, reveal it and I will do battle with it and defeat it and rip it into several pieces. I ache to murder something big, not only those ridiculous attackers we’ve met recently.”
I frown at him. “Seriously?”
He shrugs. “Or we can keep going. Get up on my shoulder again.”
Okay, that’s not tempting me right now. “Wait a moment. You think you could take the monster? A really big one?”
“I imagine we’ll see.”
I take him in. He’s boot-less, his ripped pants that used to be beige are now a dirty brown all over, and he’s splattered with blood and mud. “But you’re not feeling good. And you are in human form.”
“Thank you so much for informing me. Truly, you have the most remarkable powers of observation.”
“I mean, if the monster is as huge as that bobont we saw, but as fierce as a dactyl — could you take it?”
“Again, I imagine we’ll see.”
I stick a foot into the pool. Yeah, pretty much the right temperature, not too cold. “Because if you can’t, then… well, you know. We die.”
“I doubt it.”
I look around at the totally perfect little island. “You really don’t think this is a trap?”
“I see nothing that points to it.”
I look down myself. I’m caked in mud, and I must look like a demented sewer worker. “If I take a dip, will you be ready in case someone pounces? I mean, that pool is the obvious place for the monster to live. The sand probably covers a huge mouth of some kind.”
The dragon gives me a merry smile. “Probably!”
I make a quick decision. “Fine. You and the monster win. Hey, is this your trap? Did you make this island to trap innocent human females?”
Caronerax looks at me emptily. “I honestly wouldn’t see the point.”
“I guess you’re right.” I pull my now wet and muddy dress over my head, not concerned about the dragon seeing me bared. He’s seen it before, and he didn’t do anything then. I kind of want him to do something now.
“Can you come closer?” I plead. “Just in case.”
He sighs and steps over to the pool, running his gaze over me and stopping at the most girly places. “I wonder if it isn’t something else that is a trap here.”
“As someone said, I imagine we’ll see.” I inch up to the edge of the pool. “So if anything at all happens, you’ll save me. Agreed?”
“I imagine we’ll see.”
I jump in with both feet, still holding on to the rocks, ready to jump right back out at the slightest sign of trouble. Say, a leaf dropping from a twig fifty yards away. Or the sun breaking out from the cloud cover.
Nothing happens, so I decide to use the time well. I quickly rinse off the worst of the mud, knowing I’ll be picking grains of sand out
of certain parts of me for days.
Caronerax is an interested spectator, and the huge bulge in his pants gives me a certain satisfaction.
Nothing continues to happen, so I rinse out my hair and then dare to swim a few strokes. It’s the first time I’ve done that since well before we were abducted. It was at the lake outside town, on that brown beach that’s not all that nice, but good enough for when it’s the first day after finals, you’re with a bunch of friends, and you’ve got a picnic and a swimsuit.
The thought of Earth sends a pang of stress and worry through my mind. The girls are under siege and about to pull the ‘exit’ lever. I can only hope they get my message. If not, I will never see that lake again.
I look up at Caronerax. “You want to rinse off that mud? This doesn’t seem to be a trap, after all.”
He looks down at his legs, covered in mud to well above the knee. “Perhaps.”
He jumps in without much ceremony or enthusiasm.
“Those pants are easier to clean if you take them off,” I point out. “I’ll clean them for you.”
“It’s the first time I’m voluntarily immersed in water,” he admits as he struggles to pull the tight pants off. “I don’t know how it works. So far, it’s not the least bit agreeable.”
“Really?” I ask, trying to help by pulling at one of the legs of his garment. “I immerse myself in water every chance I get. Try to stand on your other leg while I… yes, like that.”
“I noticed,” he grunts as the recalcitrant pants slide down his legs and his magnificent dragon cock stands tall and hard, pointing skywards like the weirdest, most alien obelisk I ever saw. “You enjoy getting close to drowning.”
“Actually, that’s my least favorite part,” I state, taking his pants and slapping them against a rock to loosen the mud while heat surges in my center at the sight of his exotic manhood. It’s a spellbinding thing, in a way that I never thought possible. It has been on my mind all day, lurking in the background with its smoothness and blueness and ridges that I think would hit me right where I need it.
He eyes my chest, where the nipples have contracted into hard nubs. “Sure it’s not too cold for you?”
“It’s fine,” I tell him and arch my back more. If there’s one part of me that I’m almost kind of proud of, once in a blue moon, then it’s my boobs. Having Caronerax admire them so openly is quite pleasant.
Stiffening, I suddenly know for a fact that there is someone else present.
I whip my head around.
Nothing.
The dragon lifts one hand out of the water and watches the water drip from it, as if he’s never seen it before. “What is it?”
I look all around, up in the sky and into the woods. “I feel like someone is watching me.”
“I am watching you,” Caronerax admits, running his gaze up and down me again. “Very carefully.”
I peer suspiciously down at the sandy bottom. If there’s an eye down there, the movement of the water makes it hard to find it. “No, this is something more. Do you think our spies followed us, after all?”
The dragon strokes his new, black beard thoughtfully, staring at his reflection in the surface. “No.”
I don’t think so, either. But I’m not the most observant of girls, and still I have an eerie feeling that someone is looking at me. And not kindly.
I take a step closer to Caronerax, and immediately I don’t care. Let them spy us out. This freaking dragon is on my side and will take care of any danger.
“Your beard is really nice,” I tell him. “Can I stroke it?”
15
- Caronerax -
“You may,” I state regally.
Jennifer reaches a small hand up and touches her fingers to the remarkable facial hair I appear to be growing. “It’s so smooth!”
“It is,” I agree, enjoying both her cool touch and the tone of admiration in her voice. “Quite fetching.”
“Are you growing it on purpose? I’ve never seen a dragon look like that. I mean, a ‘bearded dragon’ is something else where I come from. More like a lizard.”
“It happens by itself,” I inform her. “This human form isn’t completely disagreeable, I suppose.”
“It’s really cool,” Jennifer says, letting her hand slide down to my chest. “It makes you look fashionable.”
My reflection in the water does look pretty elegant, also because my hair is being kept in check by that peculiar wooden pin. “Ah. That is a good thing?”
“In this case, it is.” Her hand slides further down, into the water. “I wonder, how is this part feeling now? After the geyser?”
I pretend not to understand. “Which part?”
Her little finger touches the shaft of my hard manhood under the surface. “This.”
I frown. “This what?”
“This part.” She gently grabs it.
“Oh, that part. It feels terrible.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes. You may have to do more things to it.”
Her hand strokes slowly up the twitching shaft. “Do I? What kind of things?”
“For now, I’ll leave that to you, as a recognized expert.”
“Good,” she says, examining the half of my manhood that stands out of the water. “Because I heard about a treatment for this specific ailment. It was an article in a medical journal. A Treatment for Dragons Burned by Geysers On Their… Well, You Know. That was the title of the article.”
My mouth has gone dry. “And what is the treatment?”
She peers up at me, a glint in her dark eyes. “It’s better to show than to explain. Stop me if you don’t like it.”
She kneels on the sandy bottom, then unceremoniously takes the tip of my cock into her mouth.
The act is so unexpected, a hiss escapes me. “Oh…”
Jennifer gives me a short glance, then slides her mouth further down the shaft, enveloping it in a silky, humid warmth that sends wonderful sparks of delight up my spine.
“Yes, that… that works,” I stutter, taken completely by surprise and overwhelmed by pure sensation. I have, of course, never had any sexual experiences in human form, and I’m shocked at how pleasant it is. “I’m healing already.”
Jennifer starts bobbing her head up and down, while her mouth slides and her tongue twirls. She adds both hands to the shaft further down, stroking it.
The sight of her head, her bare breasts, the rest of her under the water, the sound… I have no choice in this.
I hear grunts escaping me. Jennifer takes her mouth off me, but keeps her hands pumping. Then the climax takes charge and I shoot long ropes of manly juices high into the air, a strong, powerful feeling of bliss filling my mind.
Then I feel peace and relaxation.
Jennifer wipes a sticky substance off her forehead. “I think you liked that treatment.”
“It… I… yes,” I concede, words failing me. “I feel much better now.”
She dips her whole head under the surface, then remerges, eyes pinched closed. “Good. That was the intention.”
I look down myself. My manhood is slightly less hard than before, but I don’t think she did this to weaken me. “I may need that treatment more times.”
“You may,” she agrees and gathers her wet hair behind her head. “We’ll see. Now I kind of want to get out—”
A dark shadow snakes from the top of the fruit tree above us and entangles itself with Jennifer’s hair and arms, tying her up.
The female squeals in horror, and I grab the shadow with one hand. It’s like living rope, not thick, but it’s as strong as a metal wire.
Another shadow comes zooming in, and then another and another, all from different directions.
They all aim for Jennifer, and before I know it she’s a bundle of long, writhing tentacles, her face red as they squeeze and her voice hoarse as she screams.
I pull at the tentacles, grab them with my clawed hands, and manage to rip them off Jennifer’s bod
y, but more and more of them are coming, and I realize the only way to handle this is something that makes me rebel to the core of my very being: escape.
I grab Jennifer, toss her over my shoulder like before, and jump out of the water, then run along the stream to the beach. As I thought, most of the tentacles don’t follow, and those that do are now feeling around blindly, curling around boulders and trees.
“It was a trap, after all,” Jennifer observes, her voice strained. “Look. The monster lives under the island.”
Indeed, the tentacles emerge from the swamp on all sides of the island, some of them still centered on the pool in the middle.
I consider running on, into the swamp, to get away. But I also suspect it would be futile — I think that monster has followed us from the shore, moving underneath us, well under the firm layer that floats on top of the muck.
The tentacles are getting closer, fumbling and testing the ground. One of them picks up a rock and throws it at us, forcing Jennifer to duck.
“It only comes after me,” she says, out of breath. “It ignores you.”
As if I hadn’t noticed. The tentacles carefully snake past me, aiming for her. That also makes it hard for me to fight it without hurting Jennifer.
I punch and pull and manage to rip one tentacle in half. It sprays green liquid and flails before it withdraws back into the swamp.
“There it comes,” Jennifer says and points.
It’s a huge bulb of brown flesh, pitted and scarred, rising up into the air from the other side of the island, supported by a hundred thin tentacles that sprout from its underside. With those long arms, it’s easily twice the diameter of the island.
Carried by its tentacles, the bulb that has to be the monster’s main body and head slowly makes its way to right above us, dripping mud and swamp water onto the ground.