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Reign of Fire (Hellhound x Autore)

Hearing the door lock behind her had a sense of finality to it. She shivered as a gust of wind swept past her, trying to ignore how silent and alone she was so early in the morning. She was so very tempted to knock on the bar door and just take Mort up on his offer. It was too late now though. Bracing her arms she stepped out into the street and started heading towards home.

The way was dark and every so often she thought she could hear someone breathing behind her. To say she was creeped out was an understatement. Her footsteps grew faster til she was practically running thru the barrier into the shifter city. The familiar magic encompassed her. Her home was calling her and she soon stepped into its warmth and sighed with relief. Not long after she fell into bed and was fast asleep before her head hit the pillow.
 
The next morning found Mort at his desk, which was still a wreck from the night before. The only object on the desk was his computer, which he had retrieved from his carrying bag earlier in the morning. The rest of his knick-knacks, writing utensils, books, and notebooks were still in various piles on the wooden floor. He was reclined in his chair with his feet on the his desk, wearing only his boxers. In his hands, he held a cup of coffee. The morning light poured through the window, dancing in the steam which rose from his cup. On his computer, he was viewing the photos he had taken the previous day. He scanned through them, studying faces, posture, reactions, and looking for signs of hierarchy. He was trying to decide who was calling the shots. Whoever was in charge of the little meeting would undoubtedly have leverage of some kind over the others, which was probably in the form of confidential information. Secrets. It's always about secrets, and who knows whose.

Mort cycled through the images until he came upon those he'd taken of Autora as she'd disembarked at the building. He smiled as he recognized her familiar figure, those hips he'd clung to so desperately the night before. He proceeded a few photos and saw the man who she'd identified as her step-brother, and "one of the most powerful shifters". The next few photos depicted the asshole grabbing Autora and forcefully taking her into the building. A heat rose in Mort and he felt an overwhelming need to punch one of the most powerful shifters square in his fucking face.

Proceeding through the photos, Mort came to the photos of Autora standing in the window. In several of the shots, she was looking directly into the lens, directly at Mort. He smiled. "Didn't even get her number," he muttered, then shut his computer and pulled the storage card out and returned it to his safe. He loaded a blank storage card into his camera and dressed. There was only one of those three power players that Mort could surveil without too much trouble: the Human Governor.
 
Sun shined like a laser beam thru her blinds and had Autora wincing in pain. Groping around for the blinds cord she practically ripped them from the wall in an effort to close them. A moan that belonged in a horror movie had Autora blearily slipping out of bed and headed towards a hot shower. Muscles ached and she felt stretched all over. The grin on her sleepy face said that she would do it all over again if she had the chance. One night of passion and possible exposure brought out a side to her that she would never regret. The hot water rand cold before she was done getting woken up. If only she could be lazy today.

Wrapping her soft terry cloth bathrobe around her she fluffed her hair with a towel and walked into her small kitchen. A shriek left her mouth as a shadow moved out from behind a stack of books in her living room. A hand clamped down on her mouth as an arm wrapped around her torso. She struggled and tried to bite the hand that held her mouth shut to no avail. The figure standing before her just smiled watching her feeble attempt at getting away.

"I told you to never cross me sis. Didn't I? And what did my little bitch go and do...Spread her legs to some back alley shifter like a fucking whore. And what exactly is this shifter doing...trying to dismantle what Ive built." With a swift hand he cracked her across the mouth and watched her head fling to the side, blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth. "What did you give him, huh? Certainly the pussy wasn't all that good? Not from some little slut like you." His fist swung out and cracked her across the other cheek. A sharp pain causing her to cry out.

"You have no idea what kind of shit storm you've started now." He sneared and wiped her blood off his knuckles. "Now that you've defiled yourself, anyone can have a piece of you can't they. Your gonna a great little fuck toy for me. Wouldn't want to see my seed get wasted before I find my own perfect mate. She will definitely be a pure breed bitch unlike you. Your just practice." She wanted to gag. Her face throbbed and she knew both her cheekbones were cracked. "take her out back and shove her into the trunk. The inside is wasted on her." A sharp smell met her nose and she watched as fire built in her little home as it was consumed by dragons fire. The last she saw was of a great blue flame engulfing the tiny structure. Not even a single window pane on the high rises around her house felt the heat.
 
Mort decided that Governor Winthrop was one of the more boring persons he had ever followed. In the late morning, the capitol building was a buzz of activity. Senators came and went, followed by their entourages of aids and reporters. Office workers dashed in and out, great bundles of papers and folder tucked into their arms. Mort saw no sign of the Governor until late evening.

Parked in the plaza across the street, Mort had a great view of the front of the capitol. He'd circled the monumental building several times and decided that security was too tight in the back and sides. In the front, Mort could blend in with the rest of the street. He steadied the zoom lens of his camera and scanned the front of the building now and then. Moments before the Governor came out, a small convoy of black cars pulled to the front of the capitol. Mort perked up and zoomed closer on the front doors of the stone building. After a few seconds, Governor Winthrop came jogging down the stairs of the building in his crisp suit and climbed into a car. The convoy took off and Mort half-tossed his camera in the passenger seat as he pulled a U-turn and fell into traffic behind the Governor's procession of cars.

Mort knew that the Governor wasn't headed to do anything incriminating-- not with that tell-tale squadron of government vehicles. But his only other leads would be much more difficult to tail. The Shifter King's security detail was much more heavy-handed, and as for Autora's brother, Mort didn't even know his name. He didn't have the first clue about where to find him. He followed the Governor's car onto a wide boulevard and realized that they were headed toward Shifter territory-- toward the shield. Mort racked his brain. The Governor was not a Shifter, and surely none of his security was. How did they expect to pass through the shield?

Without warning, the convoy quickly turned off the boulevard into a fenced compound less than a hundred yards from the barrier. "Of course," Mort said to himself. The neutral zone, as it was referred to by the newspapers. The military base on the border of human and shifter territory, made especially for meetings between the two governments. As the convoy pulled into the parking lot, the chain link fence closed behind the last car. He could see soldiers patrolling the fence, and others in towers overlooking the boulevard. "Shit," he said and drove past. He realized then that there was no other place for him to turn around before crossing the barrier. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to remember the last time he'd been in there. The mountain climbed above him, the shifter portion of the city climbing its soft slop and stopping where the rock cliffs became nearly vertical over the rest of the city.

Mort crossed the barrier and intended to find the first spot to turn around. The buildings had changed little since he'd last seen them. He thought he remembered a street that looped back onto the boulevard and would allow him to head back the way he'd come. He turned off the boulevard and onto the smaller street. Another car was coming toward him and he kept his car tight to the curb on his side to avoid clipping them. He slowed to allow them to pass. When he saw the driver and the man in the passenger seat, his breath caught in his throat. The man driving had been one of the goons who'd chased him in the alley yesterday. In the passenger seat, was Autora's brother.

Mort's heart began to jackhammer. He waited for the other car to get past him a bit, then he calmly cut a U-turn and fell into traffic behind them. He kept his eyes glued to the license plate, trying to make out the letters and numbers. If he lost them in traffic, he could at least try and pull some information from the car. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, hoping that he wasn't making a huge mistake following this car.
 
Everything around her was dark. The interior of the trunk was bare except for her so nothing was able to brace her as the car took sharp turns, rolling her around like a rag doll. Her head and faced throbbed. Even her stomach protested to her treatment after being kicked there before being tossed into the dry trunk. The air was suffocating and she had to take shallow breathes or risk going into a fit of coughs and choking to death.

It hurt to move her jaw so calling out for help was useless even if being in a moving vehicle was already a hindrance on a rescue attempt. Right at that moment she didn't fear for her own life. She knew she was already dead to all who would be concerned. But she worried for Mort. If they knew who she was with he could already be kidnapped too or worse dead.

After some time she felt the car jerk to a stop. Her ears strained to hear what was going on outside. Footsteps came closer until she heard the grind of a key into a lock and the trunk lid popped open. Bright light blinded her .momentarily as she was dragged out of the car and thrown to the ground. Dust kicked up and had her coughing til she almost passed out. Her arms were lifted and she was thrown over someone's shoulder where they fondled her bare ass that stuck out of the short robe.
 
Mort followed the car across the Shifter side of town for half an hour. He kept his distance, trying not to be too obvious. Driving through a part of town that he wasn't familiar with, he glanced out the window occasionally to make mental notes of landmarks so that he could find his way back. Without warning, the car ahead of him swerved off the road in front of a building Mort had never seen before. The car screeched to a halt and Mort pulled off the road, half a block behind. He quickly raised his camera and started snapping shots as the men inside stepped out. He focused on the leader, Autora's brother.

"There you are, you son of a bitch," Mort muttered under his breath. The leader and one of his men went to the trunk of the car and opened it. Mort hoped against all odds that he would catch the men unloading something that would give him an idea of what was going on. What they pulled out gave him no new information, but told him all he needed to know.

Autora was in a robe, clearly distressed, and being roughly pulled from the dark trunk. There was blood on her face. Mort's blood burned suddenly, his heart beating loudly in his ears. He dropped the camera and clinched his fists. He wanted more than anything to storm across the street and kill all of them for harming her. He remembered that the goons had been carrying guns yesterday, and he assumed they still were. He was no good to Autora if he was dead. He waited until one of the goons threw her over his shoulder and they all walked into the building. Mort didn't carry a gun. He dug through his car, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon. He came up from between his seats with a foot-long, solid metal flashlight. He considered the weight, and decided that it would do. After the last of the men entered the building, Mort stepped out of his car, tore off his overcoat and threw it back into the car. He rolled his sleeves to his elbows and walked across the street to the building, careful stay out of view of the windows. Casting a gaze around to make sure no one was looking, he crept to a window and peered inside to get his bearings.
 
Autora had duct tape forced over her mouth. She wanted to scream out as she saw where they were taking her. A cold room held a large bed with ropes and straps attached to the corners. Things swung from the ceiling like lewd snakes coiling over the bed. Only a silk sheet covered the bed in black. Her eyes widened in horror. Her heart raced as she pounded against her captors back and her feet kicked out attempting to hit him in a vital spot. She was swiftly spanked for her efforts and tossed onto the bed. The thick muscled man had her tied spread eagle on the chilled bed. Her robe was cut off her body and tossed into a corner.

Not in wildest nightmares did she picture this for her end. The air had her shivering and goose flesh pimpled her skin. Her chest rose and fell like a cornered animal. It didn't occur to her to call out to her dragon. She was so scared and stunned that it was making it hard to think. Spots danced in her vision as she hyperventilated. A low chuckle sounded behind her and she tried to move her head to look over her shoulder, but a black cloth was tied over her eyes. With her sight gone the duct tape was ripped off. She didn't stop the whimper of pain as the material tugged off a layer of skin.

"Cant have that mouth closed off now can we? Itll be put to good use." She knew that voice and she wanted to weep. Her hearing enhanced enough by being cut off from her sight told her that more bodies shuffled into the room. The residual body heat coming off from so many people raised the temperature a few degrees. And that didn't bode well for her. Now she was laid bare like an offering to goddess only knows who and still all she truly feared was what had happened to Mort.

Crying softly thru the black material Autora tried tugging at the bindings even knowing it was useless. The first touch came across her bare breasts, flicking her traitorous nipple that was pebbled for all to see. Soon others followed, pinching and rolling the peaked flesh. Hands slid up her legs and circled her inner thighs while others travelled down her belly and swept over her moist mound. Her body shivered under the unfamiliar touches and she felt her blood begin to boil. So her dragon wasn't going into hiding like Autora wanted to. Smoke trickled from her nose, but everyone was too preoccupied by defiling her body to notice. She wanted so badly to just go back to last night and stay with the one man she didn't mind having touch her body.
 
Through the window, Mort could see a bare, concrete room. Several doorways led off of this main room. Mort watched in horror as Autora was dragged, kicking, into one of these rooms. His hand clinched tightly around the heavy flashlight. The group disappeared into the room, the shadows boding ill. After only a moment of them entering the room, Mort saw the shredded remains of Autora's robe thrown through the doorway and onto the concrete floor. Mort had seen enough; it was time to act before things got worse.

He stepped away from the window and breathed deeply. He didn't want to shift if he could help it. There were too many of them and too few of him. If he wasn't careful, Autora wouldn't be the only one in trouble. He had to do this quietly. The front door face directly into the room they'd taken Autora into-- they'd see him as soon as he entered. He walked around to the back of the house.

Outside a back door stood a man in black, smoking and looking at the ground. Mort lowered himself below the level of the windows and crept along the wall. He stepped onto the concrete patio behind the man and brought the flashlight against the man's head with all his strength. With a dull thud and a quiet groan, the man crumpled onto the ground. Mort quickly searched the man, pulling a gun from a coat holster. He considered the pistol a moment, then stuffed it into the waist of his pants in the small of his back.

He peeked through the window beside the door and saw no one in the small entry way. He tried the door and found it unlocked. Mort stepped inside, staying low and quiet, the bloody flashlight held tightly in his right hand.
 
Rulan stood off to the side and watched as Autora was fondled and groped. The soft of her squirming against the ropes had his shaft twitching and pressing against the rich material of his pants. He reached down and palmed his length thinking about how warm and tight the little sluts pussy was going to be around his cock.

The others were just warming her up for him. He could see how her skin was turning a beautiful pink color and the bindings were already bruising her delicate skin. They all knew no one was allowed to penetrate her with anything but their fingers. The sight of her bodies betrayal had him grinning. Her breasts were full and those pink nipples were perky and begging to be bitten while the swollen lips between her legs were already coated in moisture.

As he watched her skin darkened further and something was forming from out of her hair. He screamed out too late as two things happened simultaneously.

Autora ripped out of her bindings and stood before all of them in the confined space as a 20 ft high dragon covered in scales that miraged between red and silver. While coming in the doorway stood a strange male with a bloody flashlight poised to knock a person unconscious.

Autora roared viciously and swung around the small space sending his goons flying into the walls, her tail was spiked and impaled another shifter thru stomach. Rulan gulped and cursed loudly flinging out of the way and out thru a whole in the wall her tail had punched thru. He wasn't waiting around to see if anyone made it after her rampage. They were all expendable. Except for the girl. He was going to come back for her.
 
Mort had spent a moment putting a plan of attack together. He couldn't tell how many were in the room with Autora, but it sounded like a fair amount. He would rush in, bash the first one he saw, and if they started shooting, then he would do the same. He had just decided to charge the room when the sound of thunder shook the house.

Mort rounded the corner into the room and saw several men being flung across the room, colliding with the wall. In the center of the room, he recognized Autora instantly. She was fully shifted; her dragon body exuded nothing but raw power and outrage. Mort stared at the brilliant shades of scale which covered her, the color shifting in iridescence between red and silver. Mort dropped the flashlight and looked at the room which surrounded Autora. He realized that she didn't need rescuing, she was fully capable of protecting herself when it came down to it.

Her reptilian eyes fell upon him, and he met her gaze. Feeling suddenly insignificant, Mort smiled awkwardly. "Good job," he said, gesturing to the unconscious goons lying on the cracked concrete.
 
Autora blinked down at him. He looked kind of small from where she stood. But that didn't seem right. Taking a step forward she felt the ground shake a little. Blinking again she looked down at her self and let out a roar of surprise. To an onlooker it had to be comical watching a two ton dragon go around in circles trying to look at itself.

Getting dizzy she lowered to the floor and her head snaked around and laid at Morts feet. What was she going to do. A forked tongue slicked out and scented the air. A bittery pepper taste lingered in the air. A solid weight also lingered on her tail and had her flicking it to get the annoyance off. A body collided with the wall with a sick crunch and she winced. Blood slowly pooled underneath her body and coated her scales. That pepper scent fading as wind blew thru the hole in the wall.

Looking a little embarrassed she gave a toothy grin at Mort who looked on with mild amusement. With a shrug of her scaled shoulders she crooned softly at him pressing her snout against his chest.
 
Mort held Autora's head in his hands, or more precisely, he placed his hands on the sides of her powerful jaws while she held her head in front of him. He smiled, looking into the orbs of her eyes. The sound of a thud behind her gave him a scare, but he saw that it was the body of one of the goons becoming dislodged from her tail. Mort laughed and shook his head. The smell of blood, coupled with the feel of her scales on his palms put the fire in his veins.

"What do you say we get out of here?" He asked.

He blinked, and his pupils had become slits. The beginning of his horns protruded from the top of his scalp. He hopped over the girth of her neck and stepped through the hole in the wall she had made with her tail. In no time, Mort became the obsidian behemoth which he had not been for so long. His spiked tail and wings stretched in the daylight, as if he had just woken up from a long nap. Turning back to the hole in the wall, Mort saw how small it was for a dragon. With a flick of his tail, he knocked away the concrete, creating a way for Autora to follow. He didn't know where he wanted to go with her, but he knew that he wanted to fly. He hadn't flown in so long. He stamped his feet eagerly in anticipation, looking back at Autora's gleaming crimson and silver body.
 
Swinging her head around she watched as a magnificent black dragon formed from her lovers body. Her multi faceted eyes shone with appreciation at the powerful male dominating the space in front of her.

Walking thru the now decimated wall she stopped beside the excited male and arched her neck along his. Twining them with happy snort. A powerful rush of his wings skimmed across her back and she nipped playfully at his snout before stepping back and spreading her wings also. Beating them back and forth she felt her legs lift from the ground.

Crooning softly she lifted from the ground and hovered beside him.
 
Mort lifted from the ground and let out a pleased, purring hiss as he watched Autora rise with him. With several beats of his wings, Mort rose through the air and began gaining altitude. His tongue tasted the wind-- the exhilarating scent of freedom and flight. His eyes blinked slowly as he bathed in the feel of the thermals, the heat of the sun on his black body, and the forgotten power in his wings. Once he'd climbed high over the city, he turned to face Autora in the air. He rolled onto his back and playfully flew a circle around her, examining every inch of the body which he had yet to make his own in its current form. A rumble shook his throat as he completed the airborne circle. He righted himself and flew for the top of the mountain which towered over the city. He wasn't sure what about it enticed him-- probably a mixture of the height, the promise of privacy, and the rocky geography. His wings flapped slowly in the high breeze as he and Autora lowered to the top of the peak.
 
Despite their heavy size they landed with barely a sound in a small crater on top of the mountain. It almost looked like a nesting bowl for dragons of ancient times. The rock was smooth except for a few deep gouges here and there from claws and tail spikes. Walking along its circumference Autora grinned and turned around to look at the sleek and handsome obsidian dragon . He was handspans taller than she was and she had to crane her head to look up at him. His size told of his true age just as hers did too.

The sun shining down on his scales made him look like black fire. He scorched her heart and had her dragon spirit growling with need. Flames danced in her eyes as she looked at him
 
Mort looked down at Autora, her penetrating gaze burning into his darkened eyes. With a soft growl, he lowered his head to hers and nuzzled against the scales of her powerful jaws. This place felt right to him; the panorama of the city sprawled beneath them, only the open sky above. His wings were still stretched wide in mock flight, he realized, and he brought them to the ground, enclosing around Autora's smaller frame in a enveloping embrace. There were words he would say if he were human, but they were instead translated to soft growls and flicks of his tongue across her fangs. The taste which hit his tongue was strange yet somehow familiar, as if this was the same flesh he had tasted hours before, only with something added.

Blood and fire, he thought. That's what the extra taste was. He exhaled puffs of smoke onto her elongated neck which caused steam to rise from the snow around them. His head retreated a few feet, and he looked imploringly into her eyes, the reptilian slits in their eyes mirroring each others.
 
Sweet smoke drifted from between her sharp teeth. It blew across his large reptilian head and down his darkened scales. She blinked slowly and brought her long forked tongue out to lap at the column of his throat. The scales were sharp enough to cut ribbons along her tongue. She smeared her blood across his snout and growled softly.

She felt the same peace and the same urges that he was in this ancient place. It's Haven almost as old as the beginning of the race it's self. With a small belch blue flames erupted from her jaws and surrounded her chosen one. The flames would have burned anyone else except for the dragon whom belonged to its owner.

The flames licked at Morts body like a sensuous kiss, coursing down his back and around his belly. Autora looked on in lustful delight as she gave her mate a very deep and fulfilling tongue lashing.
 
Mort growled softly as he felt his mate's tongue flick across his body. He felt his scaled cock begin to stiffen beneath his muscled frame, that flickering flame quickly becoming a roaring fire. The same impulses that he'd felt with Autora in his office now coursed through his mind-- but he was somehow able to control them more effectively. He did not feel a slave to his lust for flesh, rather a willing supplicant, prepared to worship at the altar of his mate's body. Mort felt Autora's tongue tracing his sleek stomach, and the temptation to take control became overwhelming. With a flex of muscle, his powerful tail wrapped around Autora's neck, just below her jawline.

He pulled her face to his own, lowering his neck as he did so. He looked into her eyes once more, the coil of his tail only tight enough to control her movement. He hissed softly and released her neck. With one beat of his wings, he was suddenly behind her, one front set of claws resting steadily on the curve of her rump. With his other clawed hand, he gripped her tail and roughly pulled upward, exposing the smaller dragon's sex to himself.
 
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