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

"Then I suppose I'll have to take extra time polishing my armor from now on," your Master replies with a smile. He takes your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours, and begins leading you to the surface. Even Jorothar is forced to shield his eyes from the glare of the noonday sun, such is the contrast with the comfortable darkness of your lair. With field and forest in every direction, it would be difficult to find one's way to any sort of civilization, had they not already been there.

The Dark Lord points to the northeast. "That way lies Thornborough, the closest village to your lair, to my knowledge. It's a fairly insignificant place, mostly just simple farmers and their families. It should be easy enough to take over without significant violence, giving us an ideal staging ground from which to strike at more well-defended locations." He begins walking, leading you along.
 
Asta purred with delight at the idea of you wearing shiny armour. Her small, squashy treasure. She snorted softly at the idea, and let you take her hand to lead her out into the light. After so long hidden in her cave, only really coming out at night, she hissed at the bright light that hit her in the face, squinting harshly as her free hand came up to shield her eyes. Her wings fluttered, slapping against your back, and she huffed.

She listened to you, and nodded along as you began to walk, "I haven't ventured outside of this forest since I left my flock..." She admitted to you, shaking her head, "There were enough people hunting me down in my lair, so I didn't want to know what would happen should I step outside of the forest."
 
Jorothar nods his understanding. "It won't be quite as hazardous as you may fear. As the number of dragons and their like dwindled, the techniques and tools used for slaying them became less and less common. They're all rather esoteric, at this point, more a topic for historians than warriors. I've no doubt a few supposed 'dragonslayers' still exist in the world, but not in nearly the numbers you may recall. That said, as you might have seen, human magic takes a while to cast, so I'm a fair bit more vulnerable. Would that I could fling fireballs with a mere flick of my wrists, as the wicked sorcerers in the songs of minstrels. On the other hand, my need for a powerful guardian led me to you, so I really can't complain about the results."

As the Dark Lord leads you through the forest, he's not shy about touching any part of you he can reach. Running his fingers along your wings, touching the scales along your sides, and gently groping more intimate areas, it's as though he seeks to memorize every inch of your body by touch alone. His expression is a bit playful, in fact, and he hums softly to himself. It's unlikely that anyone else will ever get to see this side of the world's future conqueror.
 
Asta watched you from the corner of her eye, nodding her acknowledgement of your words. So, dragonslayers were rare, likely just as extinct as those they used to hunt, and so she'd be mostly safe, unless someone found information on how to properly disable a dragon. She crooned to you as you spoke of being more vulnerable, letting you touch wherever you pleased upon her smaller body, leaning into every touch like she was already addicted.

"Then it's a good thing I can conjure lightning with a mere blink of my eye." She teased, sounding proud of herself, "Though, I have never met someone with a pendant such as the one you had, that could stop my power from harming you." She hummed softly.
 
Jorothar laughed. "It was only by my good fortune that it worked well enough to save my life. Magical items tend to be rare and unreliable, and the olders ones have had much of their magic exhausted already. I wouldn't get too concerned about them. Our greatest challenge, I think, will be gathering strength without being met with overwhelming force. A dragon may be worth a thousand men, perhaps ten-thousand, but the world's armies number in the hundreds of thousands."

As the Dark Lord discusses tactics, a small dot appears on the horizon, gradually growing closer. Soon, the thin trails of smoke rising from Thornborough's fireplaces become visible. Your Master turns to you with a confident look on his face. "I don't imagine you'll even need your true form for this, the worst threat we're likely to face here is a would-be hero with a wood-cutting axe. Even so, feel free to indulge in menacing the townsfolk. One of the perks of being the Dark Lord, or a servant thereof, is that you have no need for any sort of subtlety. Ready, my dear?"
 
Asta tilted her head and nodded slowly. At least items like that were rare, as you said, and so she might not have many issues. She snorted as you spoke of her being worth many men, but the armies having more, and she shook her head, "Their armies are made of only squishy little humans." She returned, shaking her head, "Even you are squishy. I wouldn't even need my magic. Just my teeth." She grinned.

This was the most fun she'd had in years, and as you neared the town, she grinned in excitement. Oh, she wanted to indulge. And... she kinda wanted to prove you right, that no one was prepared for a dragon. After all, this village was the closest, if anyone had a hunter it would be them, surely? Shifting, feeling the cracks of her bones, she gave an earsplitting roar in agreement with you.
 
Jarathor smiles as you boast. "I'll admit, it's rather appealing to see you so self-assured, but I'd rather not risk your safety on such imbalanced odds. Besides, with enough soldiers surrounding us, it would impossible to keep me from being overwhelmed. Unless, of course, you're offering to carry me on your back." Your Master smiles suggestively at this.

The hamlet of Thornborough is home to only a few dozen people, but its history goes back many hundreds of years. The oldest citizens tell tales of olden times, when brave young men would brave the nearby woods in search of the dragon rumored to live there. However, none ever returned from their attempts, and the villagers became convinced that, dragon or no, the forest was best left alone. These days, only foolish hunters from far-off cities pass through the trees in the distance, often armed with little more than a simple bow, convinced by some loudmouth minstrel's story of a dragon brought down by a single arrow passing through a gap in its scales, or other such rubbish. Imagine the villagers' shock when the dragon finally came to them.

The first to spot you was a simple woodcutter, named Roark. His cries of "dragon" swiftly alerted his neighbors, and soon, the entire village could only stare in terror. The first to break was Maxwell, the carpenter, who turned on his heel and began to run. That was when the Dark Lord made himself known. Jorothar had been twirling his staff slowly, the gemstone filling with a dark fire with each revolution, and as the first villager attempted escape, he slammed the butt down on the ground, causing a ring of that black flame to encircle Thornborough, making escape impossible, unless one wished to be rather painfully incinerated.

The Dark Lord approached the cowering crowd, arms opened wide. "Behold, and tremble, for the Dark Lord walks among you! You should feel honored that I have chosen your humble village as the first step on my road to conquest! Submit yourselves, and you shall not be harmed!"

A voice calls out, belonging to some nameless farmer's son. "W-w-we're not afraid of you! Our lord's knights will protect us!"

Jorothar responds with a booming laugh. "Fool! Your lord's knights exist to fatten your lord's coffers! What value do you think you represent, that the swine who rules you would expend even the slightest effort defending you? And moreover, what chance do you think even the mightiest of knights would have against the almighty dragon, Astaroth?!"

Your Master makes a sweeping gesture towards you, giving you the go-ahead to demonstrate your power.
 
Astaroth ignored your words that put her own ideas down. She'd carry you on her back if she needed to, but not a moment before. She was a dragon, not a horse, and you should treat her as such, she thought. Instead, she focused gleefully on the village, roaring in excitement as the first calls came of a dragon in their midst, watching them come from their homes to see, their eyes widening in terror.

She let you step before her, watching eagerly to see the first man run, her eyes widening in awe as a dark flame rings around the city at the slam of your staff against the ground, and she snapped her jaws gleefully. None of their prey would escape, if they didn't listen to what her bonded partner had to say. She watched with excitement in her eyes as some people flinched, when they heard the click of her teeth.

She joined your booming laugh with a rumble deep in her chest, amused. They thought knights could take her, and her Master down? She wanted to show off right then and there, show her true power, and she opened her wings in glee as you pointed toward her, eyes electric blue bright.

Lightning crackled over her scales as she tilted her head back, roaring to the skies. Bolts of lightning came from nowhere, despite the lack of clouds, striking the ground around the group. It showed her control over her element, for it struck no one, but left scorch marks on the ground as she roared.
 
At the sight of your power, those villagers hold tools promptly drop them. Wordlessly, they begin sinking to their knees, one after the other. Only one remains standing, an aging man, with a long beard. He walks slowly towards Jorothar, his walking stick thumping softly against the dirt. When he gets within a few paces, he speaks, evenly, softly. "My name is Rupert, and I am the elder of this village. Have I your word that none of those who live here shall be harmed, if we surrender peacefully?"

The Dark Lord replies, "Of course! None who submit themselves to my rule shall come to harm by my hand, nor the hand of any who serve me! I seek to cast down those who, from their lofty castles, rob you of that which is rightfully yours! When this world is mine, you shall all be rewarded with unrestricted prosperity!"

At this, one of the villagers offers, "You know, he's calling himself the Dark Lord, but, he makes a good point. I nearly had to give the tax collector my daughter's maidenhead when I came up a few coins short this year!" Soon, others echo this sentiment, and the conquest is completed, not with screams, but with cheers of, "All hail the Dark Lord!"

Turning to you, your Master looks a little surprised. "That was even easier than I thought. Well, I imagine a town with actual guards might require some violence, so let's count our blessings for now." He flicks his staff, and the magical flames disperse. "Excellent performance, by the way. If I didn't have absolute, magical control over you, even I might have been a little frightened."
 
Astaroth shivered in clear glee as the villagers drop their weapons, sinking to their knees at the sight of her pure power. Not, in fact, at the sight of you, but at the sight of her and her power. It cheered her up, to know that these people were scared of her, of the dragoness that stood behind the Dark Lord who controlled her. And, in truth, whilst you did control her, she was still pleased that people feared her.

She crooned from behind you as people rallied a cry for the Dark Lord, and nuzzled her head down against your shoulder. Rolling her eyes at your comment, she lets her own magic surround her, and shifts, much to the surprise and horror of the villagers, who rush to cover the children's eyes, at the sight of the very naked dragoness, who fluttered her wings and looked to you.

"You should be frightened." She huffed, grinning at you.
 
Jorothar snickers, moving out of the villagers' earshot. "After the way you moaned sweetly beneath me, not too long ago? You could rend the very heavens themselves and I'd feel safe as houses." He puts a hand behind your neck, and pulls you into a tender kiss, shocking the villagers further. They begin to murmur, almost in awe of this Dark Lord who seduced a dragon. Or, they wonder among themselves, is it the other way around?

As the commotion dies down, the villagers return to their regular activities. They frequently cast nervous looks in your direction, as though you might change back into your true form and begin devouring them or their sparse livestock at a moment's notice.

Your Master stretches, smiling in satisfaction. "Well, Asta, it seems we've procured shelter for the evening, so perhaps we should retire, to discuss our next move. And perhaps... unwind, a little." He pats your firm rear playfully, when the villagers aren't looking.
 
Asta moans against your lips, stepping closer to press herself against your chest. She quite likes the villagers staring in awe and shock at her and you, as her wings flutter behind her and her eyes meet your own, full of mischief. She nodded along to your plan, glancing around, humming to herself softly, "Unwinding sounds like a good plan." She returned, stretching her own very naked body in front of you, "Did you have something in mind?" She asked innocently, keening as you slap at her ass.

She does, however, know exactly what you mean, but she seems to like teasing you. She keeps her eyes locked on your own, as if daring you to look down at her naked from as she stretches happily.
 
Your Master doesn't hesitate in the slightest, boldly staring at you as you display your body for him. His gaze is intense, traveling over every inch of your body like fingers. Jorothar muses to himself that he'd never tire of your perfect body. "I'm sure our new 'friends' will be happy to offer us lodgings for the day. We should bathe, and have a meal, of course. And we'll need to discuss our strategy for the next town we're to take over. Oh, and I'll fuck you again, of course."

The Dark Lord adds this last bit casually, like an afterthought, as he steps closer to you. Without warning, he slips his hand between your legs, to feel your heat. He growls sensually into your ear, "I can feel the desire radiating off you from yards away. Does belonging to me make you feel that good, mighty Asta?"
 
Asta shuddered at the casual way you mention fucking her, and she watches as you step closer, a soft gasp escaping her warm lips as your hand slips between her legs, where her sex is slick and eager. She hummed, rocking against your fingers a little, eyes fluttering up at you as she, in turn, strokes her fingers over your fabric covered cock, determined to tease you in the same way.

"Hm. Perhaps." She returned, "Maybe we should... double check." She purred, moving to press her own lips to yours, quite eager to get to the more fun activities they had planned between them.
 
Your Master meets your kiss hungrily, his tongue running over your fangs before entwining itself with your own. His cock is already hard, a clear indication that he's as eager as you are. As he breaks the kiss, Jorothar takes your lower lip between his teeth, biting gently, before releasing it.

The Dark Lord waves the elder, Rupert, over. "We require some private lodgings until the morrow. Provide them for us, and your village shall be rewarded. It needn't be palatial, a simple room with a bed and washbasin shall suffice. And be sure to have dinner brought by this evening." The old man nods quickly, genuflecting as he backs away. Within a few minutes, the two of you are ushered towards a hovel near the center of the village. Rupert explains, "The owner of this house recently passed on, he was a fair bit older than me, you see. We just finished getting it cleansed and ready for a couple of young'uns who just got hitched. I'm sure they won't mind waiting just one more day to move in." He chuckles nervously, though, given his earlier behavior, it's more likely he fears for the people he represents, rather than only himself.

The interior of the building is simple, built of plain, sturdy wood. It's just a single room, but in a way, it's quite cozy. A stone hearth is found along one wall, with various cooking implements hung on some hooks nearby. There's a table meant for preparing food, and another, surrounded by four chairs, for eating it. Perhaps most enticing is the bed, large enough for two. The mattress is most likely stuffed with straw, but the frame appears to be made from a single solid chunk of oak, which will lend it a great deal of durability. Rupert adds, "There's a washbasin 'round back of the house, if you want to wash up a little. I'll let everyone know not to bother you."

Jorothar reaches into the sack containing your hoard, and after a moment of digging, produces a small emerald, likely worth more than the entire village, combined, despite its size. Dropping it into the shocked elder's open palm, your Master says, "My thanks for the accommodations. Pass along my congratulations to the new couple. And don't let anyone say the Dark Lord can't be generous, when properly catered to." As Rupert leaves, still stunned, Jorothar turns his attention back to you. "Now, where were we?"
 
Asta stays silent as you speak to the elder, though her eyes don't leave your face even as the man speaks. She's clearly not interested in him, only you, and she follows as you are led toward a hovel, swaying her hips with her tail, uncaring as to the eyes that fall upon her body. She is a dragon, she shouldn't have to shy away from showing off her form, as elegant and lethal as it is.

Walking into the building, she moves before you, giving you a fine view of her rear as she turns her head. She watches as you pass over an emerald, narrowing her gaze, but says nothing. She will remember your promise for her hoard, so she stays silent for now. Instead, she waits for the elder to leave, for your attention to belong only to her, before she walks toward the bed, settling upon it on her back, leaning up against the headboard.

"Hm. Not as comfy as my hoard, but it'll do." She hummed.
 
Jorothar wastes no time removing his armor, followed by his robes, joining you, naked, on the bed. He grins lustfully. "I can think of a few ways to make you more comfortable..."

Positioned on your left, your Master reaches over, and begins to knead your breasts, slowly, but firmly. His thumb and forefinger make their way up to your right nipple, and he starts alternating between rolling and pinching it. Then, he leans in, and wraps his lips around your left nipple. He starts suckling eagerly, his tongue running slow circles around your nipple, then suddenly flicking over it rapidly, before returning to the tantalizingly slow circling. Every now and then, you feel his teeth, as he bites it gently. You soon feel the Dark Lord's free hand between your legs, as he runs his fingertips along your inner thighs.
 
The dragoness's eyes drift over your body as you undress, turning only her head as you join her, settling beside her body. She breaths in sharply as you begin to knead at her breasts, teasing her nipples between your fingertips, making her moan in eager need. Your hand at her thigh is clearly teasing her, her hips twitching up as she tries to get you to touch somewhere a little more needy.

She squeals with each nip of your teeth, melting into your touches, even as her own fingers wander down your chest, fingers teasing over your cock.
 
Jorothar's fingers trace their way up your thigh, and soon, he's slowly circling your pussy, painfully close to touching it, but keeping ever so slightly away. Eventually, as the need builds up within you, your Master finally brings one finger to rest on your clit. And then, he holds it there, firmly, making sure you can feel it. He whispers to you, with the force of an order, "Now, stay perfectly still for me." No longer playing with your breasts, the Dark Lord focuses entirely on keeping his finger on your clit, as it begins to throb and burn with need.

For what seems like an eternity, he continues this deceptively simplistic tease. Finally, he begins rubbing your clit, slowly. "Good girl, you may move again. You're so very obedient," he says, knowing full well that you couldn't have disobeyed if you'd tried. "Maybe I will see about having you fitted for a bit and bridle."
 
Asta starts to whine needily as you circle around her pussy, and she seems to think she’s gotten her way when a finger settles firmly against her clit. But then it doesn’t move, and she goes to move her hips, to bring her own pleasure, when your whispered order buzzes through her. The magic of your bond to her gives her no choice but to shudder and obey, claws digging into the sheets as her breath comes in needy, wanting gasps.

And then, after what feels like a millennia, you begin to move, and she melts with a moan under the touch. However, your comment about a bit and bridle earns you a snarl, as she twists up to straddle your hips, pushing your back against the bed, “You won’t ride me.” She growled
 
Jorothar looks smugly satisfied as his provocation works. He looks up at you, clearly loving the view of your gorgeous body from any angle. The way his hardened member throbs is clear proof that he's enjoying himself immensely. Of course, he's not finished pushing your buttons, not by a long shot. As you growl at him, he reaches up, gripping your horns firmly. Then, your Master pulls downward, forcing your face close to his, and in a predatory hiss, says, "Then show me you deserve to be more than the Dark Lord's steed, 'almighty Astaroth'."
 
In return, the dragoness snarls back, even as she rocks her hips forward to grind against your cock. Moving slowly, keeping her eyes locked to your own, much like a predator stalking its prey, she lifted herself. Reaching down between you and her, she strokes your cock with a teasing glance, and then guides it between her legs as she settles over it. She moans as she lowers herself, slowly, to tease you, letting her hot walls envelop you.
 
Jorothar licks his lips as he watches you sink down on his shaft. As you reach the base, he lets out a soft gasp of pleasure. He keeps his hips still, intent on letting you show off. He reaches upwards to caress your breasts, taking each in one hand, squeezing them with a steady rhythm. His thumbs move to rub over your nipples in small circles. He maintains the eye contact, not even blinking as you accept his challenge. Your Master fully intends to demonstrate who the real apex predator is.
 
Asta purrs as you start to play with her breasts, and so starts to move her legs, sliding herself up your shaft to the tip, then back down, repeating it slowly. It was almost torturous for her, but she wanted to drive you wild, her own fingers sliding over your chest, mostly to keep herself balanced. Her eyes stay firmly upon your own as she keeps moving, steadily speeding up.
 
The Dark Lord chuckles wickedly as you start riding him. "I'm quite fortunate that the only dragon I could find happened to be female. Dear Asta, you wouldn't believe how frustrating it was, back in that stodgy 'academy'. There were girls there that were attracted to me, I suppose my habit of brooding and high-minded ideals appealed to them. But not a one could keep up with my... appetites. To think it would take a dragon to match me like this. But, will you be able to keep control as you pleasure me, or will you break, and end up screaming out your defeat, so that the entire village hears it?"
 
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