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If The Sky Could Dream... [SnakeOfSeduction x LordLicentious]

SnakeOfSeduction

SnakeOfSeduction

Star
Joined
Oct 1, 2018
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Astaroth considered herself the Queen of her territory. After all, should a dragoness ever be questioned, in her home? Over the years of her existence, which weren't many considering a dragon could live for centuries, especially since she'd reached adulthood and found her own home, few had dared to even seek her out, let alone threaten her. A quick snap of her lazy jaws, a burst of electrical magic in the air, and any enemy she wished was dead, fell. Of course, her life was boring, spending her time sleeping in her hidden lair, surrounded by her gleaming gems growing from the rock, and hunting for her food, she did little else to gain excitement.

And she craved excitement. She prowled her territory often, looking for someone to fight. But no one would ever come near her, Queen of her own land, for the magical, and non-magical, beasts here knew she was not to be touched, for fear of punishment. It left her lonely, and often grumpy in her boredom, wanting something more to her life. Yet, she never stepped a foot out of her forest, for her parents had always told her that horrors awaited dragons out there.

Dragons were, after all, rare. Hunted down in previous centuries for their scales, their flesh, their magical qualities their bodies possessed, being a dragon had it's dangers. But here, in her forest, no one knew she was here. Oh, there were myths of her existence, and those who had dared look for proof had never returned. But to actually fly out there, protected only by herself, she would never admit it, that she was scared. That she felt safe here, in her forest, with her useless enemies here and there, her boring life. Maybe one day someone would sweep her off her feet, a male perhaps, and they'd lead her out of the forest into the light. But never would she go out there when she was alone.
 
Your seemingly endless solitude is broken by a sound from the darkness at the far end of your cavernous lair, the tunnel leading to the surface. It's a tapping sound, rhythmic, steady. The first thing you see is the gleam of a large gemstone, set into the tip of a wooden staff. Then, as if melting from the shadows, is a human, well over six feet in height, but miniscule compared to your own grandeur. He is clad in close-fit, black robes, with a steel breastplate dyed the dark purple of midnight. Attached to the shoulder plates of this armor is a billowing black cape, trailing the intruder like a specter. From his right hip hangs a jeweled longsword in a black leather scabbard. Upon his face are a pair of spectacles, seated in front of clear, blue eyes, sparkling like sapphires in the light of your lair's gemstones. His hair is dark as jet, with nearly as much sheen. Hanging from his neck is a pendant, a bolt of lightning emblazoned into the pewter surface. He brings his empty left hand up to the pendant, touching it for just a moment. It took him many months to acquire this pendant, purported to grant immunity to all forms of lightning, and underneath his cocksure bravado, he's really hoping it works as advertised.

As he strides forward, head held high, he looks you over. He speaks, in a loud, grandiose tone that seems to fill your cave. "So, the rumors are true, one of the last remaining dragons, possibly the last, has been hiding down here. Though, it seems the rumors failed to properly capture the power and majesty of such a creature. I am Jorothar, future Dark Lord and ruler of this fallen world. And you, mighty dragon, shall be the greatest instrument of my will." He subtly, almost imperceptibly, braces himself for what he is sure will be dramatic retaliation. However, he must assert his dominance if his ambitions are ever to be realized. He's gambling his life on a mere bauble, but there's no turning back now, not after he's come so far.
 
As you walk in, your eyes are met with first the beauty of the dragons lair. More than large enough to fit multiple of her kind, the crystals gleam in shades of white and blue from the walls and ceiling, glittering as you move closer. From the darkness, you can see the dragoness herself, her large, elegant form covered in black scales, which gleam with a dark blue tint in the low lighting. As she spots you, and as you call out your words, she slips to her feet, watching you with glowing blue eyes, her wings spreading in a fashion meant to intimidate you, the intruder into her den. Baring her teeth, she snarls lowly, and the tips of her scales begin to light with electric blue, a clear and certain warning to back off, as it creeps down her long spine, to the finned tip of her tail.

Without warning, electricity rains down upon you as she screams, but it doesn't do as it hoped. It perhaps tingles as it hits your body, but is absorbed with ease by the pendant. Astaroth seems clearly confused by this, and tries again, with as much power as she can muster, before she gives up. She snarls at you instead, snapping teeth as she snakes her head closer, to watch you with curiosity and some form of annoyance, her eyes darting over your form.

"A Dark Lord. Your compliments won't work here." She rumbled. Though, your compliments do clearly get to her, as she preens her fins just a little, "I am no one's toy to play with, Dark Lord. However... I am willing to listen." She added, settling back down closer to you, watching with a wariness fitting the fact that she'd let someone into her cave who she couldn't just fry.
 
Jorothar smirks, and begins the speech he'd spent the last week practicing. "Let me tell you of the world you have spent so long hiding from! The powerful, those entrusted with the responsibility of leadership, grow fat and decadent off the backs of those they had once sworn to steward! And those that cannot pay the taxes these thieves don't even need, save to serve their bottomless avarice, are brutalized, put to the sword, or worse! The so-called Holy Temple claims that this is just, that our rulers do so by the will of the gods! 'Divine mandate'? I should sorely like to meet the wicked deity that would ordain such grasping cretins as those to hold dominion over this world! It was by their will that your kind, and many others, have been driven nearly to extinction! You may, in fact, be the last dragon, for all anyone knows! And does the peasantry rise up? Cast down these villains and reclaim their human dignity? No! They praise their rulers as wise and benevolent, insisting that those who suffered their wrath were fools, traitors, or wastrels! With your might at my command, I shall lay waste to the corrupt nations of man, and assert my own control over the world, that I might put things to rights!"

Throwing his arms back with a flourish, the gem on his scepter begins glowing with an unearthly light. "When I was a child, my parents were two such people who ran afoul of their lord. And then they had the gall to take me, the child they had orphaned, to make into a weapon for themselves, telling me that my latent gift for magic would serve a higher purpose! I suppose, in a way, they were right. I found a spell, you see, a ritual, that can bind any creature, even one as powerful as you, to my will, as a familiar. After burning the book so none might oppose me, I knew I had to seek one of your kind out, the only being that could oppose the armies of my enemies. All it takes is for my will to overcome yours. You, who have hidden yourself in this hole for gods know how long! You may be among the mightiest of all living things, but anyone who would sit among their trinkets and cower for so many years cannot hope to overcome my determination!" He thrusts the staff forward, sending out a coruscating beam of magical power in your direction, beginning this battle of wills. He hoped his speech had done enough to either sway you, or shake your confidence. He felt he could likely win this battle, regardless, but it never hurts to have an advantage.
 
Your speech had clearly confused the dragoness, and swayed her opinion. To learn that the world outside was filled with horrors, of people claiming their right over others, leaving them to suffer, was due to the Gods was... she growled lowly. They'd driven her kind to near extinction, and it hurt her to know she may only be the last. The last dragon, and here she was, cowering away in fear. If there were any other dragons, then she needed to help them, by creating a better world with you, by the sounds of it. Dragons were possessive creatures, and the idea that the rest of her flock had been cut down by men for power, leaving her as the last, made her angry. The world was corrupt, and she wanted to help you fix it, for the future of all, including magical kind.

But still she wavered. Why was it her duty to help you? Yes, a dragon's magic was like no other but... she was safe here. Only, she didn't have much of a choice to decide. Your words had swayed her enough, that when your spell hit at her body, right against her chest, she screamed out a roar, feeling the magic coursing through her body. She shook, snarling, as she stumbled closer to you. Falling to her belly, she laid before you, her head at your feet, eyes fluttering at the magic that was winning over her will, her wings flapping down against the floor, writhing as she tried to fight you mentally. But it was all for nothing, as she felt your magic wrap around her own, binding you together in a way that made her shudder.
 
Jorothar grinned wickedly at your submission. "Good, it seems we've reached an... understanding." His hand makes its way to the pendant once more, but, at his touch, it crumbles to dust, utterly destroyed by the power of the lightning it had absorbed. "It seems it was fortunate you didn't attempt a second wave of your breath, it appears they don't make enchanted objects of power like they used to." He chuckles darkly, inwardly sighing in relief that he had survived this all-or-nothing plan. "However, while your will is bound, the pact is not truly complete until we are bound physically." He emphasizes the last word with a smirk, unhooking his armor, which falls against your hoard with a clatter. "I'm given to understand that dragons can take a form that is much closer to that of a human. Take that form, and present yourself to your new Dark Lord and Master!"
 
The dragoness watched with wide eyes as you touched the pendant, and it crumbled. Had she tried once more, you'd have been toast against her magic. The idea of being bound physically made her eyes widen up at you, watching as you started to remove your armour. But she had no choice, your will over her own, to draw on her magic and shift her form. The girl that now stood before you resembled the dragoness with ease. Naked as the day she was born, for dragons had no need of clothing, it was easy to see the scales that rippled across her collarbone, down her sides, in symmetrical patches. The two wings that erupted from her shoulder blades flexed, and the tail at her rear swayed, whilst the horns on her head, mimicking the smooth black curves of those on her more draconic from, gleamed in the low lighting.

She didn't truly know how to present herself to you, but she fell to her knees, spreading her wings in order to show her body off completely to you, knowing you now have every right to touch her in any way you wish.
 
Not wanting to rush things, knowing he can complete the pact at his leisure, the self-styled Dark Lord walks up to you, beginning by placing his hand under your chin, lifting your face, that he may examine it. "Hmm, a beauteous creature, your looks translate well to human form." He continues by firmly cupping your breasts, kneading them, and slightly tweaking your nipples. "Such a nice body, it's a shame it's been wasted down here for so long," Jorothar teases. He kneels down, and spreads your legs, pushing you back on your rear, and begins closely examining the spot between your legs. "Yes, very nice, it seems everything is quite compatible." And then, he continues the inspection, closely examining every inch of your body, every hole, as though to fully impress upon you his control before he fully seals his pact.
 
Astaroth certainly seems to be trapped in your spell, watching as you approach her kneeling form. She tilts her head up in compliance with your hand, her eyes fluttering up at you. After all, you aren't bad looking yourself, and she had to admit that you were appealing. After all, she is a lonely female dragoness, who does have some rather horny urges, as any female would. Only.. she's never had a way of exploring that. She shivers as you touch her breasts, leaning into the touching, and falls back onto her rear in obedience, spreading her legs with more than willingness, feeling a heat in her belly as you inspect her. But it also cements the idea of you controlling her, as she decides to try and fight back, only to find she can't anyway.
 
As Jorothar ends his inspection, with a light smack on your firm rump, he begins to remove his robes. He's wearing nothing beneath them, and now stands as naked as you. His form is covered in lean muscle, the product of much time spent on the road, and he moves with impeccable coordination. His uncircumcised manhood, already erect, stands at seven and a half inches in length, and a full two inches across. He grips one of your horns, and forces you onto all fours. "Now," he whispers into your ear, "you are going to back your hips into me. You're going to give your body to me yourself." He then positions himself behind you, the tip of his member a mere hair's breadth from your slit.
 
She whimpers beneath you as you slap her ass, watching as you remove your clothes. Her eyes flutter over your body, looking a little concerned for what you want to do to her. But, she'll admit, she is feeling aroused, and she doesn't even bother to fight again as your grip tightens on her horns, forcing her down onto her hands and knees. She shudders as you whisper into her ear, feeling the heat in her belly as she feels your member brushing against her slit, and she nodded. Slowly, she began to push backward, crawling. She hesitated only a little as she felt your member pushing at her soft ring of muscle, before she gave a more firm push, moaning softly as she felt you slide into her carefully, feeling every inch spreading her wide.
 
"Good girl, you'll make a fine servant at this rate." Jorothar's praise is at once both genuine and mocking, as he savors every fold and contour of your cunt. Once you've completely impaled yourself on his cock, your Master once more grips your horns, using them as handles as he begins rocking his hips, sliding himself in and out, steadily. "You know, I don't believe you've told me your name. There's power in names, you know, so, I shall take that from you, as well. Though, feeling how wet you are, I imagine you're becoming quite eager, aren't you?" Before you have the chance to reply, he adds, "And always answer me honestly."
 
In response, your dragoness moan's beneath your body, head tilted backward, exposing her soft neck, as you grip her horns and tug them back, using them for leverage. Astaroth shudders, moaning lowly and whimpering, as you begin to slide in and out of her virgin slit, pleasuring her in ways she didn't believe would ever feel this good. The idea of giving away her name was a shaky one. There was magic in names, especially around magical beings, but she moaned it out anyway, even as she shuddered, obedient to your will, "A-Astaroth, Master..." She whined, pushing her own hips back against yours to try and bury you deeper.
 
"A powerful name, indeed. I think I'll call you 'Asta' for short. A name just for the two of us. Doesn't that sound nice?" One hand moves from your horn, to your throat, gripping firmly, but not squeezing. "You know, a large part of my plan involves spreading my seed far and wide, to ensure I have as many children as possible to carry on my legacy. Perhaps you'd like to be the first. It will take quite a number of tries, of course, there's no record of a half-dragon that I know of, but I imagine that with a little persistence, we can manage." His thrusts start to speed up as he feels your pussy getting accustomed to his cock. He aims deep, pounding against your cervix, as if to reinforce his earlier suggestion.
 
She shivers at your words, whimpering lowly. Asta. No one has ever spoken her name, not since her parents, whom she left the nest of years before. She gurgles at your hand wrapping around her throat, the silent threat it holds making adrenaline flow through her, her heartbeat a pleasured, panicked flutter as she moaned, her voice vibrating against your palm. You wanted to breed her, but she didn't mind. She was bound to you now, and... you had said she may be the last of her kind. The only way to preserve dragon-kind would be for her to breed with another and, well, you seemed powerful enough. She moaned as you sped up, squirming slightly in pleasure, "I-I want it, Master! P-Please... f-fill me with babies!" She begged you, bucking back into you.
 
Jorothar slows to a stop, and grips one of your legs. With a tug, he flips you onto your back, and then drags you closer. He lifts your hips, and resumes pounding his cock into you. You can feel him aiming his thrusts, until they start hitting a particularly sensitive spot along the anterior wall of your pussy. "I think we're going to be very happy together, Asta." Jorothar smiles down at you with unqualified affection as he says this. His hands find their way to your breasts, and he begins to massage them vigorously, tweaking the nipples between thumb and forefinger. Then, he groans in pleasure. "Mmmph, I think I'm getting close to granting your wish," he says, as his penis begins throbbing inside you.
 
Asta moans and shivers below you as you adjust her position, peering up at you now that she can see you easily. Her wings spread across the floor beneath her, her tail swaying to slap against your ankles, as you thrust into her smaller, curvy form. She squeals softly as you hit a particularly sensitive spot, almost melting below you, shivering. She meets your gaze as you start to play with her generous breasts, keening as you tease her nipples, and as she feels your girth throbbing inside of her, she cums hard upon you, her inner walls shuddering, squeezing around you eagerly, even as she begs, "P-Please Master..."
 
Jorothar grits his teeth and lets out a low groan as he floods your womb with his virile sperm, pressing the head of his cock against your cervix, to ensure not a drop is wasted. As he does this, he leans in and locks you in a passionate kiss, wrapping his tongue around yours. You can feel the magic doing its work, binding you completely to your Master. However, the sensation radiates entirely from your lips. Pulling back, Jorothar wears a satisfied grin. "The ritual only called for a kiss, but, I thought doing it this way would be more fun, don't you think?" He chuckles softly, remaining atop you, his manhood slowly softening inside you.
 
Asta purrs beneath you as you cum inside of her, filling her fertile womb with your seed, painting her insides. She lifts her head to join in the kiss, sliding her tongue against your own with a delicious moan, feeling the magic spread, tingling through her. It confuses her, clearly, when she realises that it comes from her lips, and she raises an eyebrow at your admission. Shaking her head, she peers up at you, "Much more fun." She agreed with a hum, "And we might even get little babies out of it." She seemed pleased at the whole idea, smiling toothily up at you with a delighted croon.
 
Jorothar runs a hand through your hair, then finally pulls out, moving to lay beside you, idly rubbing your stomach. "It would be nice, certainly. I'm also quite glad to finally be able to begin my conquest, having finally acquired sufficient power to strike back against injustice." He sighs for a moment, contented, then a strange look crosses his face. The Dark Lord barely restrains a laugh, and says, "You know, it really says something that I was so looking forward to obtaining you, that I'm only just this minute considering that we are presently laying atop an enormous horde of riches. I imagine this fortune shall prove somewhat useful in gathering supplies and followers. That's not even mentioning how the rapid influx of additional wealth will play havoc on the world's economy, disrupting the bastards in charge, and making the commoners more receptive to my message. It seems the pieces are falling neatly into place!" He begins to chuckle, which soon turns into full-throated, evil laughter, resounding off the walls of the cave.

As his laughter dies down, Jorothar looks back at you with a smile. "But first, we should probably get dressed." He pauses, thinking, then slips an arm under your breasts, pulling you into his embrace. "In an hour or two."
 
The dragoness hummed as you slid from her body, settled happily as you rub her soft stomach. She peers at you as you speak of her hoard, and growls lowly. Astaroth had taken most of her life to collect her pretty hoard of gems and gold, from those who dared to enter her territory. It was not only gold and gems, but also swords, shields, and various pieces of armour, all displaying different colours and symbols. She had been hunted before, but none had ever left the cave. You'd be the first, she supposed. Still, she'd let you use her hoard, as long as it helped to free the people, and save the world in their own dark way.

Your laughter made her rumble deep in her chest, concerned for you, until you cuddle against her side. She turns on her own side, snuggling up to your chest, "Would it not be more efficient to leave now?" She asked, confused by your want to stay here a while longer.
 
Jorothar presses a finger to your lips. "It's unlikely we'll have a truly peaceful moment again for quite some time once we leave this cavern. Even the great and terrible Dark Lord appreciates a tender moment once in a while." He kisses your forehead, and holds you close as the two of you bask for a while in the gentle glow of the luminescent crystals, the cool air of the cave pleasant against your sweat-dappled bodies. Jorothar takes a moment to reflect, thinking that, in this moment, the serene silence of the cave sounds almost like music, in a strange fashion. Time passes slowly, but it does pass, and all too soon, the Dark Lord knows he must rise and meet his destiny. Wordlessly, he stands, and begins to dress. Pausing, he finally breaks the silence. "We should probably get you some clothes once we've conquered a suitable town. Unless you'd like going about naked. I certainly wouldn't complain."
 
Asta blinks as you press a finger to her lips, but she nods along, understanding. Instead, she curls against you, wrapping a wing over your body, and lays with you, enjoying the calm of her home for perhaps the last time. Maybe they'd return here one day, with her babies, but for now... this was potentially goodbye. As you move to get up, she lazily follows, humming softly as she looks around her cave once more.

Hearing you mention clothing, she looks down at herself. Her thighs are a little sticky from the cum that had leaked from her, but she didn't really care. Instead, she shrugged, "Dragon's don't wear clothing. I'm not sure why it bothers all of you so much." She laughed softly.
 
The Dark Lord shrugs, as well. "I suppose you wouldn't need clothes, your skin's likely a fair bit more resilient than a humans, so sharp pebbles, thorn bushes, nettles, biting insects, and the like would be of no concern for you. Good enough, I'll certainly enjoy getting a full view of that gorgeous body of yours at all times. And should anyone else stare for longer than I care for, I'll just have you confiscate their eyes." He flashes you a predatory grin as he takes up his staff, now fully dressed. "Now, about all this treasure, let's see about transporting it."

He begins waving the staff in wide circles, muttering an incantation. When it's complete, the hoard begins to shrink. Not in amount, but in pure size. It continues to shrink until it's less than a foot in diameter, and then, a simple, cloth sack materializes around the treasure. Jorothar walks over and picks it up, attaching it to his belt, opposite his long-unused sword. "Now you'll never be far from your valuables, at least until we start spending them. But perhaps, in our conquest, you may find yourself gathering an even greater hoard, taken from the wealthy. I've not yet decided if such ostentatious wealth shall even have a place in my new world, so you may even get to keep it. All the wealth in the world, a bed for my lovely dragoness. Poetic, really." Your Master gestures toward the mouth of the cave. "Well then, shall we?"
 
Asta purred as you understand that she wouldn't like clothing. She needs no protection. After all, her scales cover some more vulnerable parts of her, over her chest, her spine, and even if she was worried, she could transform into her dragonic self in mere moments. It wasn't something she truly worried about. She only worried about hunters, but then... she had a feeling her Dark Lord would take care of them if they caused a problem for her. After all, in order to kill a dragon, they likely had certain techniques to make them vulnerable.

She watched as you shrank her hoard, a low whine in the back of her throat as she watched it disappear into the bag. Still, your words are a reassurance to her, and she moves closer with a nod, "It is not the.... expense, of the hoard that I like." She told you, shaking her head, "I just like shiny things." She beamed, showing her teeth again.
 
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