Dampf-Smoke and Dragon-Fire { Winter / CasualVelociraptor }

[Winter]

Bidding farewell was never easy.

Especially not when the one to whom you were doing so was Master Aradhael.

Truly, Vielle knew it was his own fault— he shouldn’t have expected that meeting with the man would lead to anything else. Rarely had he escaped a visit to him without this happening.

‘This’, in this case, being him upon his knees, between his tutor’s legs, his clawed gauntlets, newly-polished, set aside so that he had free movement of his hands. One, he had braced upon his teacher’s muscled thigh. The other he used to steady his cock as he worked it in his mouth, almost impatiently, working with tongue along the underside and around the head.

Methodical.

Precise.

Well-practiced.

From the time he had begun his tutorship, this had been a common occurrence— it was merely the way of teachers and students— or so, that was Aradhael had said. Truth be told, Vielle had, after a time, asked other soldiers in training about it, and had had this claim proved true. Often... Usually, he didn’t mind, but at a time like this...

Well. It merely seemed rather improper.

The barracks had been unusually somber as of late. Though news of the war came scarce, that was a curse more than a blessing— in simpler times, before the bizarre rumblings of happenstance in the Empire, things were not as they once were. He could recall, during the beginning of his training, that updates from skirmishes along the southern borders, infrequently more important than a bandit attack, would quickly be relayed via magic.

Now? Nothing.

Rumor had it that whatever grim tidings had come had arrived from a scout on dragonback. For when he had been awoken that morning, it had been with news, with a location, with orders. At sundown, they would be departing on dragonback to Raeybek. In the past, during the times when the skies had been the dominion of elves and dragons, flying at night had been uncommon— much could be said for the hit to morale an infantry could take at the sight of a sky darkened by the wings of a fleet of drakes.

But things were different now.

And meanwhile, he was here sucking cock!

His jaw grew tired— for as much as he had practiced over the years, it never seemed to be good enough for the man to finish in any quick amount of time. No longer able to be concerned with his worry, Vielle opened his eyes, the color of jade, and glanced up at the man, brows furrowing.

Oh, he had half a mind to leave. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

For all he knew, he might not make it back.

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

Vielle was a stubborn, oft opinionated student. That much was true. But, Aradhael reflected as he closed his eyes and focused his mind on the sensations the boy’s wet mouth was giving him, he had learned at least one thing.

For a mage-soldier in training in the Ananki Confederation, sucking their master’s cock was about learning patience, discipline, consistency. Love and lust was never part of the act on the part of the swallower of the male sword- or any homosexual act, as that was the domain of erimdanaith, or erim for short, meaning “between man and woman,” for those who didn’t choose either when they had the magic to pick. All that was important was the will to accomplish the mission and the might to conquer another man’s castle and steal some of his vitality down one’s throat. Do this enough and one could become strong enough to invade another pupil’s throat with his own seed one day.

Vielle had had none of those qualities when he started out a couple years ago. He used his teeth far too often; his lips gripped too loosely; his suction was too weak; and the one time he had managed to make Aradhael cum during his early training, he spit out the virile seed, which earned him a paddling and time in the stockades naked. Aradhael knew these things because he had made these same mistakes when serving under his master, Callohir; and Callohir had under his, and so on. Such was the way things had worked among the beautiful men chosen for the Confederate Mage Guard for centuries.

Now, Vielle was much better at this, usually taking only around thirty minutes to bring Aradhael to orgasmic bliss. Of course, there was still so much wrong with the boy- namely, that he had a woman’s cunt rather than any prick of his own, and so could not continue any kind of tradition, and yet refused to be called an erim with the accompanying “er” and “ri” pronouns, instead pretending to be a man. That was almost worse than one who chose to be a man yet who allowed his secret place to be penetrated and seeded as a woman would.

But, man or not, Aradhael was rapturously appreciating his talent. As pre-ejaculate leaked out his flaring tip, as his thick muscle throbbed against the boy’s skilled tongue, as his balls throbbed, Aradhael groaned with pleasure and knew that the end was nigh.

He’d received so many of these that the older man knew what to expect and when it would arrive, yet still gasped in surprise and shouted, “Receive the powerful fruit of my loins!” in Old Elvish as he curled his fingers through his apprentice’s hair and slammed his cock as far into the hilt of Vielle’s throat as if would go, just before he felt himself ejaculating.

When Aradhael got himself cleaned up and dressed (a little bit of cum leaking onto Vielle’s chin as he withdrew), he turned back to say, “Boy, get your things and go. Your dragon is probably waiting outside now.” Then he grinned, “Oh and...do try and come back alive. I’d hate to have to replace you.” But his tone made it clear- it would be easy enough to do so.

 

[Winter]

Gods damn it. It had happened enough times now that he should have anticipated it, but Vielle always found himself surprised when the man climaxed. It certainly didn’t help that, long ago, his tutor had grown wise to the fact that he pulled away when possible, and had, since then, taken to grabbing him to prevent escape.

It had happened now, as well, and Vielle grimaced as he felt the tip of the man’s organ nearly bruise the back of his throat, felt the liquid heat in his mouth.

And the instant he was released, he pulled away, wiping his mouth. It would be rude to do so now, yes, but the instant he left the room, he would be stopping by the latrine to purge. Yes, his master had talked at length about such things as ‘vitality’ and ‘borrowing magic’, but the man had also talked at length about his genitalia (almost to an obsessive degree, if he wanted to be truthful about it) and how it was ‘unsuitable’ to ‘carrying on the tradition’.

Truth be told, Vielle was unsure if he would become a tutor later in life, and he was quite unsure if, in such a case, he would have any compulsion at all to force future students to engage in the pederastic acts that had been inflicted upon him. But his so-called ‘unsuitability’ had nothing at all to do with that— the old man’s mindset was a relic of millennia ago, at a time when the Confederation had opened its borders to humans and had allowed the biological limits that their mundanity tethered them with to taint rational thinking. By his estimation— not that he spent much time looking, mind— a full half of the recruits in his squadron were similarly endowed to himself. Times were changing.

Everything was changing.

Yet, for as out of touch as the old man was in many regards, though, Vielle would be untruthful if he tried to say he did not have a deep respect for him. And as he replaced his gauntlets, flexing the metal joints to loosen them, he chuckled, glancing at the man with good humor. “Of course, Ser,” he said.

After all, why wouldn’t he return? It was a night strike.

So that was it, then— his last words before his first deployment. He stopped by the latrine as planned, and then the cafeteria to indulge in something that had not come from another person, and then ascended the steps to the aerie. As always, the sound hit him before anything else, the noise of great wingbeats and territorial hissing, and then there was the chill of fresh mountain air that seeped in through the stone and the barred doorway at the top of the winding staircase. He fished a runestone from his pocket once at the door, placing it against the sigil upon it, and at once it unlatched and he stepped outside.

It was a great structure, just as much enclosed as it was open, situated at the top of a spire that had, long ago, been struck by lightning and subsequently given its current use. Over time, the stone along the walls had eroded, and now through the gap stretched the awesome view of the wide range of mountains in which the base was situated.

And all around him, dragons— some larger than others, in every color imaginable: azure to blend into the daytime sky, orange for dusk and dawn, green for missions in the forests, red— the largest of all, and notoriously vicious— to intimidate. There was a constant flutter of activity as the great beasts came and went through the gap into the open air, free to hunt and to do what they willed until they were called to action, and Vielle was halfway done fishing the polished-antler whistle from his pack to call his mount when he felt near-scorching breath on his neck, and turned.

“There you are, my girl,” he said, a broad smile coming onto his face, reaching up to run a hand against the steel-grey scales of Kvala’s neck which, on its own, was taller than himself— a constant source of awe for him, as he still remembered thirteen summers past when he had been given her as a newborn hatchling. In the thirteen summers since, she had grown tremendously quickly for one of her size, and even now he could hear the squalling of the juveniles she had mothered on the upper tiers of the aery, the future mounts of freshman recruits that they had hatched under the watchful eye of.

The sun was yet in the sky, but by now it had begun its descent, and it was as good as any a time to set off. And so, the saddle placed upon her back and his tether affixed to it, he clambered astride, bidding her to move. With surprising running speed, she covered the distance to the gap in the wall in moments and then in an instant the floor had fallen away and she was diving off the edge of the tower, him leaned into her back to reduce the drag.

As a novice, there had been many times when the sudden weight of gravity and the feeling of impending death that the rapidly-approaching bottom of the mountain ravine had made him black out. Blessedly, that was no longer the case, and had not been for many years; instead, the worst that happened was that his previous visit to the latrine was made all but redundant.

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

“Hey, Vielle!” Ilvisar Inamys waved to his fellow dragon rider as they and the others leveled out and began flying for the disputed border zone in the south of Raeybek. “Long time no hear from! How in the nine hells have you been?”

“Would you keep it down?” Elder Beldroth snarled at him. “The Empire is listening to us.” Both he and his dragon stared down the tomfoolery of the younger riders with the one good eye they shared.

“With what exactly?”

“I don’t know, but we must be on our guard...”

“Against their tinker toys? Pfft!” Ilvisar laughed as loud as he could. “Last time we swatted them like flies.”

“Last time was four hundred forty yeeeears ago!” Beldroth humphed. “I know because I lost my wife then, and I have burned for vengeance every minute since! But arrogance is the weight that drags all elves to their doom! Doom! DOOM!”

“Shut up, crazy old fart!” another rider and his dragon bellowed in turn.

“Everyone shut up. We’re approaching their base,” a third elf shouted to everyone once they were within a mile of the target.

The moonlight glowed on the slumbering 136,000 pound behemoths that stood guard over Outpost Weklantra at the forested fork between the main River Weklantra and its tributaries.

Goliaths.

These elves had never encountered such terrifying beings before, and they had hunted many bizarre monsters their whole lives.

“Quit gawping and rain fire upon those filthy humans!” Beldroth howled, his dragon roaring as hellfire spilled like water onto the fort, illuminating everyone sleeping in it. Even the glow at the edge of the inferno illuminated the massive Confederate Army ground force of non-mage soldiers, archers, and cavalrymen that waited to charge into the fort after the dragons had softened the defenses.

 

[Winter]

Once Kvara evened out in the air, it became surprisingly easy to doze off whilst riding on dragonback. Several things could not be adjusted to, no— the chill of the wind or the speed with which it whipped against him, its cold dampened only by the thick leather of his flight suit came first to mind— but aside from that, the ride was quite smooth.

Unlike other dragons, who flew in the daylight and needed to maintain high altitude such that it was hard to breathe, the shroud of night and the fact that Kvara’s scales blended into it allowed her to fly much lower. And as he was— warm, insulated, with nothing to occupy his mind save for the rhythmic sound of her powerful wingbeats and the noise of the wind, Vielle fell asleep, the safety of the tether that kept him attached to her in case the worst happened providing as much peace of mind as he needed.

It was a shout from a comrade that woke him, and he snapped to attention, managing a greeting. Which meant that they must be growing close to the camp. A part of him was glad that they would have the fore-coming day to do reconnaissance and rest their dragons before the strike, and—

— and they were flying toward the battlefield instead.

Wait, what? Had orders changed?

He wished to ask, but before he could gather his bearings, the squadron was shouted to silence, and—

— and he received his first sight of the battlefield.

Many times, Vielle had imagined what it would be like. This was not it. During the day, it may well have been different, but this was a camp, rows upon rows of canvas tents stretched out, and behind them...

At first glance he had thought the massive things rising into the sky, bigger even than the largest dragon he had ever seen, were beasts. But they did not move, and instead stood stock-still, their bodies reflective and black. ... Machines, then? But unlike anything he had ever heard of.

Half of the squadron diverted, then, flying low over the camp, the gouts of dragonfire catching the canvas on fire. In short order, the blaze had left the sky filled with smoke and near as bright as day, the sound of panicked shouts cutting through the silence of the night air. It was a mercy, perhaps, that Vielle personally did not witness things so close, for instead of attacking the camp directly, his group had been diverted to rain fire upon the great metal constructs.

The jets of white-hot flame that Kvara’s sub-breed was capable of exhaling were well hot enough to melt iron to uselessness, and yet, though the metal of those great constructs were left glowing red and hot, their surfaces did not warp. Thrice the pair of them flew by the leg of one of the machines, and with a gout of flame superheated the metal, but it did not so much as bend, not even under what must have been the massive weight of its body.

“Anything?!” A compatriot shouted to him as they passed. “We’re not having any luck!”

“No!” Vielle shouted back. “Her flame is useless on it!”

“They must have a weak point!”

He needed to change tactics, clearly. Taking the legs out would be easiest, yes, but—

His eyes drifted up the length of the thing’s body, to the head. In the light of the flame, something there reflected differently. Perhaps—

Yes, upon growing closer, he saw it— a window. If it could not be destroyed from outside, then perhaps from within—

“What are you doing?!” A fellow shouted, but already he had steered Kvara to ascend, and in short order she had alighted atop the construct’s head. She turned, then, head craning over the side, and at his direction, spat a gout of flame at the window— the glass, superheated, shattered.

And the path inside was clear.

If there was one thing that had been drilled into his head in training, it was not to leave his dragon. But where he was planning to go, she would be unable to follow. And so, once he had stepped from the saddle, climbing down the length of her neck to swing through the window into the little room in the machine’s head, he reached down and unclipped the tether, which swiftly retracted back into the saddle.

“Go,” he ordered, and the room shook as she lifted off, the orders clear to circle the skies until called again. Which, with any luck, would be soon enough.

Just as soon as he destroyed this thing.

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

“Dammit, Larry!” one of the copilots grunted in exasperation. “I told you to get the glass replaced last week.”

“Do you know how long it takes to get Lesser Caledorian supercooled glass shipped in from, y’know, the North Pole, Benji?!”

“We’re only three days away by boat.”

“The boat probably got stuck in ice, as boats tend to do in THE FUCKING NORTH POLE!”

“They have icebreakers now...you know what, we’re talking about this at home. Right now, we have to get this little fly off of us!”

Larry got his gussied-up steam revolver and started firing wildly as Benny was shaking the great mechanical head instead, and soon they set to arguing again over the best method to remove the attached interloper.

As for the other, more sober minded Goliath pilots, they knew that the lives of dozens of soldiers who had climbed up into their dampfsteel hangar bays depended on them. Unlike the glass, the Goliaths’ dampfsteel (an alloy of steel and carbon) had been superheated by white hot steam for seven days prior to being fitted on the iron frames. This process made the metal the heaviest known to man, and the Goliaths incredibly slow, but also able to resist high heat, the 15,750 pound per square inch pressure at the bottom of the ocean, and near absolute zero cold at the poles. However, the large joints necessary to support so much weight were a weakness, particularly at the neck, and prolonged attacks there (especially by faster moving dragons) would make the monster roar its last.

So instead, the pilots became the monsters. When their steeds hissed away the molten fire that now set the ground ablaze, they pulled levers and whistles that vented excess steam and bellowed an unnatural roar. Even just that sound caused some in the back of the elvish ranks on the ground to consider turning tail when human bullets screaming at their faces had not. But for anyone who had dared challenge the Empire’s most fearsome weapon, it was already too late, as chainguns and 40mm cannons churned the earth, and the bodies of most of the elvish battalion along with them.

One brave mage attempted to buy his compatriots time to melt into the woods by using telekinesis to shove a Goliath sideways while it was stomping forward. However, his head exploded from the effort and the walking artillery platform’s stomp after being rid of him sent shockwaves across the field.

Meanwhile, others were focused on the dragons circling high above and attempting to dive bomb the heads of the Goliaths in a desperate bid to win the contest of apex predators while being chased by the hornets sent to hunt them down. And so was Private Daniel “Ghost” Ghoslan, who instead of being safe inside the hull was clinging onto the leg of the beast that shielded him and was peppering the winged horrors above him with fire from his sniper rifle with extended magazine to give his friends extra covering fire.

That was when he spotted an elf hanging onto the cockpit. Since Daniel couldn’t get a clear shot, he started using a climbing scythe on the foliage they had dressed up the Goliath with as camouflage in order to get up there and stop that beautiful man...er, elf, whoever or whatever he was.

Suddenly, a boulder was thrown telekinetically, knocking the Goliath Vielle was on on the chin and sending him and Daniel both flying up and sending the chaingun’s bullets upwards until they tore through the wing of a dragon, which grabbed Vielle with his claws in desperation for a rider, any rider to save him. Daniel then grabbed onto the dragon’s scaly tail as it crash landed into a tree, and was thrown to the ground.

 

[Winter]

It was not as if machines did not exist back home. They certainly did, though unlike anything he was seeing on the battlefield. In a society based almost entirely on magic-- as it should be, that being the natural domain of their race-- items mechanical in nature were little more than novelties: toys for children, usually, little animals filled with clockwork and gears.

This creation... It was unlike anything he had seen. Like all machines, he imagined that its workings were inside of it, but what would he find there, deep in the belly of the figurative beast?

He could only guess.

And guessing, it seemed, would be the only thing he would ever be able to do. For just as soon as he had started to clamber in through the window, something grabbed him, pulling him out, and a moment later he found himself in open sky, hanging from the back of his harness. Something hot-- near-molten-- splashed onto his face, and though he reached up to hastily wipe it off with his glove, the stench alone that came from it-- vaguely like sulfur-- was unmistakable.

Dragon blood.

Which meant... It was--

He did not have time even to finish that thought, because before he could look up at the beast carrying him, his vision was drawn down, to ground which was swiftly approaching. With a panic, his hands flew to the clip for his tether, only for him to remember that it was not attached to anything and he was being carried, and that was his last thought before the mount crashed into a tree with an unholy shriek and he was released, flung through brambles and bushes, sent rolling a good thirty feet or so, left dazed. It was a miracle that he had not been left more than that, he thought, at least until he stood up and felt the cold. The leather flight suit he wore over his armor was no longer much more than a few tattered scraps, and in several of those places where the impact had been particularly rough he felt the sting of the scrapes that had been sustained, but all things considered, it could have been much worse.

At least he was alive.

... And, he realized after a beat, alone.

On the battlefield.

"Wh-- Henry, behind you!"

The shout of warning from an Imperial soldier caught his attention, as well, and Vielle's eyes snapped to the man he had landed a scant few feet behind. But of the two of them, he was swifter, managing the close the gap between them before the human could turn and point his firestick at him. He realized with a curse that his weaponry was still on Kvara, who was--

don't think about it

-- but he had a dagger strapped to his thigh for just this reason, and he was quick to draw it, disabling the soldier with a flick of the wrist.

And like many who find themselves in battle, it was more by dumb luck than practiced skill that when the bullets flew around him, he was not hit, even with how many near misses there were. And through his panic, Vielle was quick to think, summoning forth magic to his aid when no other options presented themselves, conjuring a blinding flash which made the blazing battlefield look like a dim candle in comparison.

Though he did not know how to use the weapons that the men around him dropped in an effort to cover their eyes, he grabbed one nonetheless; it was bigger than his dagger, at least, and proved quite an effective weapon with which to bludgeon the soldiers around him with whilst they were occupied with their temporary blindness.

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

Suits of armor like the one Daniel was wearing right now were a real gods-send for soldier safety, but now he knew why most soldiers chose regular armor and a face mask instead: the downside was the metal itself was hea. VEE. And that was before factoring in pneumatic tubes, leather, and cloth. And it was all hot, damn hot! So anyone would be rightly skeptical that such an imposing metal monstrosity could ever be as quiet as a mouse.

But there was a reason Daniel had been nicknamed Ghost, aside from a dig at his Norduvadirian father’s last name, or a poke at Daniel for not talking much. And he was about to prove it as he skulked along the forest floor with his trusty...

Oh. Damn it. Somehow his knife had gotten lost in the chaos. No matter, he would just use his trusty...Aw, fucking hell! His guns were gone too?! Then what could he possibly use to fight one skilled in the magical arts?

Nature provided the answer when he stepped on a shard of rock as big as his arm. He lifted it with ease, balanced it on his hand, and then threw his spear high and true towards the back of the elf’s head...

Except that it veered left, scraping his oh, so muscular left arm instead of piercing his brain stem. So Daniel went to plan B- bull rushing his foe as the entire forest panicked beneath his feat, and tackling him to the ground.

 

[Winter]

In stories and legends, it always seemed as if combat was something long-lived, taking hours to days at a time.

In truth, the time that it had taken Vielle to disable the first man and then bludgeon the rest-- into unconsciousness or death, he could not be sure and didn't wish to check-- had to have been less than a minute. But it was, more than anything else, a physically exhausting minute, especially after being thrown through the air like a ragdoll, and now that the imminent threat seemed to have abated, he allowed himself to rest for a moment, heaving from the exertion.

And then he felt something strike him, and paused momentarily, before turning--

-- and being slammed into by the full force of... Something. Something large and heavy, which, for all intents and purposes, may have been a boulder.

The impact alone would not have taken him down, regularly. But as it was, and taken by surprise as he had been, he fell hard, and with the way that his head smacked against the rough terrain of the battlefield, the explosion of stars behind his eyelids was the last thing he managed to see before he was knocked clear out.

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

Daniel had prepared some strong follow-up attacks in case the elf managed to throw him...but to his surprise, he’d defeated his quarry in one blow. Now Daniel fell out of the crumbling iron death trap and revealed his true form. But that was the least of his concerns...the orders had said, Don’t kill bogies unless active threat to life. That meant carrying a man who was substantially taller than him- and with larger muscles in many places, he duly noted- to safety across the battlefield.

By all accounts, it seemed as though Daniel struggled with this task for close to two hours. And then the only time he managed to successfully sling carry the elf on his shoulder, it rained and the mud sucked in his boots, and then his pants up to his hips. Fortunately, the whale oil lamp of a battlefield cleanup patrol found Daniel before he and his prisoner could freeze to death.

Next thing he knew, he woke up in a hospital bed with his captured elf in the bed to his right, really strapped down by the leather of the woolly mammoth, a creature which resisted magic and as such had the ideal material for neutralizing magic.

 

[Winter]

... Where was he?

The first thing that struck Vielle's mind, even before he was consciously awake, was the pain. It was not incredibly intense, no, but it was there-- soreness from overexertion, and stinging pain from the scrapes he had sustained upon sliding across freezing ground.

Next, came the smell. It was unfamiliar, and chemical, unlike anything he had ever experienced before, and distinctly unpleasant. It did not smell like filth, no-- much the opposite, if he was honest, but he couldn't place it.

And why would he be able to, coming from a culture in which healing magic existed?

So he opened his eyes, and saw... White. A great deal of it, really-- white ceiling, white walls, and, when he looked to the side, rows and rows of white beds. An infirmary, then, though one of a style with which he was unfamiliar. Yet he didn't think he needed to be here, for he was not that injured, and so after a moment, he tried to sit up.

... He couldn't sit up.

He was strapped down. For a moment he froze, thinking again through what had happened, and then he looked around again, and noticed that the person in the bed next to his own was very unfamiliar, with features that were distinctly not elven, which could only mean...

Oh. This was quite bad.

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

“So, you’re awake,” Daniel chuckled at the elf next to him, then yawned as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. “How was your rest after killing a dozen men with your bare hands, you freak?! Well, I hope!”

Daniel was about to continue the tongue lashing when even louder wagging tongues came flying down the hospital aisle, and a bunch of his soldier friends appeared at the end of the beds.

“Hey, good for you for pulling through with all your limbs- especially with our track record,” one of the men said and waved his robotic arm.

“Not the point,” the group’s leader, Jed, snarled. “We’ve just discovered that your friend here has a lady hole, so we’re going to break it in tonight, if you want to come to his prison cell and watch. Or join in- your little Ghost needs to get wet, it looks dehydrated!”

“That’s not necessarily something I’m into...or think is necessary at all.”

“And why not?”

“Because, think about it. If he sees that it’s me that’s about to punish him for all the things he’s done, after I defeated him in battle, it’ll break his spirit as I break him with my cock.”

“Hey, I’ll let you do it if I can watch! There’s a hilarious thought- Ghost finally becoming a real man, and showing this ‘man’ real manhood, if you know what I’m sayiiiing!” the other man shouted, and Ghost gulped instead of turning around to correct him.

“So, uh...hi!” Daniel squeaked as he was thrown into the prison with the naked and chained up elf- Vielle, that’s what his name was- the younger man not exactly sure how to break the news to his taller object of future pounding that it was Daniel who was supposed to fuck him into giving up Confederation secrets.

 

[Winter]

He had had the impulse, yes, to respond to the words of the soldier in the bed beside him, but at the last second, had thought better of it— it would be unwise to draw his ire when he was tied in a bed, completely helpless, after all, and it certainly did not help when he heard voices approaching swiftly. After a moment of thought, he feigned sleep again, forgoing drawing attention to listen to them as they spoke.

... So that was their plan for him.

Vielle had heard that humans would participate in such things, yes, but— to think that that was to become of him, and that they talked about it so brazenly.

It made his stomach twist.

Unfortunately, there was no opening for him to make an escape. For hours, it felt, he laid in bed, until a pair of serious-looking guards came and I strapped him before ushering him, at gun point, out of the infirmary and down a hallway. At the time, he was relieved to see that he was wearing a medical gown, and though it was ill-fitting, it was, at least something.

And yet, when ushered into a dingy cell, he was stripped of it, immediately before being forced against the wall, his arms chained separately against it with little more than a foot of slack apiece— really only enough for him to sit down. Though they said nothing before leaving, he suspected that such measures were taken to keep him from killing himself before he could be questioned, or from using magic to escape.

... Or perhaps it was neither of those things, with the way that he heard the men speak to one another as they left.

“A prisoner like that is sure to boost morale.”

“Just as long as the commander doesn’t get wind of it. You know how she is...”

And then, once again, he was left alone with his thoughts. He had seen no others in the cells they had passed, and that was at least some small relief. Perhaps his companions had managed to retreat.

But, Kvara...

Gods. The dragon that had grabbed him, crashed into the trees... He didn’t want to believe it, hadn’t been able to confirm it by seeing, but... There had been no rider present upon it, that much he knew— even a dragon in pain would listen to its companion. And he had seen none other of his companions dismount...

It must have been her.

It was that which struck him harder than the realization of his capture, truly, left him weeping openly in the darkness and cold of his cell, entire body shaken by his sobs. He remembered still the subtle texture on the egg he had been tasked with caring for when he had enlisted, white shell mottled with silvery flecks; he’d worn the pendant made with it into battle, but where it was now, where any of his clothing was, he could only guess... Remembered getting up each hour at night as a cadet, exhausted from a day of training, to move to the fireplace and turn it so it stayed warm. Remembered being awoken one evening by feeble, muffled chirps, and watching with an amazement that had never been surpassed as morning broke over the mountains and he saw a tiny black maw poke through the shell and take its first breaths of life.

Afternoons climbing to the aerie to bring her scrap meat from the kitchens, and eating his own meal beside her in solitude as they watched the cloud over the mountains.

Frigid mornings, learning to fly together.

Nights in camp away from the barracks, where her warmth was the only thing that kept him from freezing to death.

The evening when, after several terse weeks of strange behavior, he had come to visit her only to find her sitting with a pair of speckled eggs tucked under her wing.

And now... And now, she had perished in a tree, far from home, at just thirteen summers. The thought was like a knife twisting into his heart, and all the more so because had he not tried to do what he had, she might still yet live, and he might not have been captured at all...

He had so many things on his mind, really, that he had nearly forgotten about the promised ‘meeting’ that the soldiers in the infirmary had spoken about, until he heard their familiar voices echoing down the hallway, and bristled. And when he saw them outside of his cell, jeering, the hot anger boiled inside of him, manifesting in a glare that, if looks could kill, the men would all be dead on the spot. And then, all at once, the man that had been in the bed beside him earlier was pushed in— presumably to make good on his comments earlier, Vielle thought with disgust.

“Oh, it’s you,” he said, his voice pure venom, an expert at feigning bravery. “Are you here to ‘break me with your cock’?”

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

Daniel’s mouth went dry as he saw a naked Vielle for the first time. He was very glad, then, that he was wearing a mask to hide his face, and that his tight suit pants could hide his growing erection.

He’d known he was drawn only to other men since before he knew what “the dragons and the trolls” was about. But never in his life had he seen a man with such fine features. Daniel never thought he’d like a vagina either, but on Vielle...well, now he sort of understood what all his straight colleagues were on about.

Speaking of which, one of them yelled out, “What’re ya, buggering ‘im or serenadin’?!” and threw a rock at his head that Daniel barely dodged.

“Um, so, listen, hey, I’m Daniel, heh. Uh...good to meet you, Vielle. Anyway, they were all going to be doing this,” Daniel gulped as he gave in to crowd pressure and pulled out his inch thick, seven inch long penis, shaking like a leaf the whole time. “So I figured that if I, y’know, pretended to do this, they’d get off your back, and mine.” He pulled out a syringe of cloudy looking saline that was supposed to represent ejaculate.

“If we don’t see your fun juice flowing out of this slut’s pussy, then you’re a bloody poof and you’ll get the stockades for a week. And then our little elf will sing for all of us.”

“If it’s not convincing enough, though, then- well, you get what they’re saying, right? So, um...which do you want me to use?” Daniel then asked, eyes darting cautiously between his syringe of fake cum, and his throbbing syringe full of real cum.

 

[Winter]

As the human had spoke, and revealed his plan, a look of worsening incredulousness had crept onto Vielle’s face. The entire situation was, in a word, bizarre, but at the same time, he was no stranger to the sort of pressure that his own comrades could exert to do stupid things.

Still, he had many questions. Primary among them: why did the human seem so nervous to do this? The way that the others had talked so casually about it...

His eyes flicked to the audience beyond the bars, jeering even now to do what their friend could not. This bizarre game of theirs... Did ‘Daniel’ really believe that laying with him now would save him future torment, that each one of the men behind the bars would not find the time or excuse to come to the prison alone and fuck him later? And even then, he had thought of a plan— however silly— to avoid it?

... Well. Perhaps they weren’t all bad. Or perhaps his threshold for that judgement was quite low. He would take what he could get, in a situation such as this.

Vielle looked back at the masked face of the nervous human before him, and then down at the only bit of flesh he exposed. Oh, he had had far worse than that.

“Put that away,” he said finally, nodding to the syringe. And then he shifted, attempting to get into a comfortable position— a nearly impossible task, chained to the wall as he was, parting his thighs to expose his slit, outer lips soft and pink. Given the situation surrounding this encounter, he was completely dry, and he didn’t expect the nervous man before him to have any sense at all to use foreplay... And nor did he imagine that his friends back there would allow it if so, rushing him as they were.

He’d had worse.

“Let’s just get it over with.”

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

“Yeah, um...over with,” Daniel gulped. One rough, gloved hand cupped his chest, which was firm but had very prominent nipples and a slight, soft give to it; like a woman’s breast, he noted, although he’d felt up one girl a couple times and never understood what the fuss was all about.

Then he took off his gloves and placed a nipple between his fingers and played with it. He wanted to suck on it, but that would have been too much of an intimate act for his fellow soldiers. Instead, his free hand moved between Vielle’s legs and started playing with the swollen lips, hairy mound, and erect clit.

“Sorry about this, but if you’re dry, it won’t go in and this will take longer,” Daniel said before rolling the other nipple in his hand and starting to probe Vielle’s entrance. “Just, um...let me know when you’re ready.”

 

[Winter]

Now this was a surprise— although Vielle was hesitant to call it a ‘pleasant’ one by any means. He started as he felt a gloved hand upon his chest, his eyes sliding closed; it was a sensitive area, and the texture of the armor was rough against his skin, so a part of him was thankful when the human seemed to think better of that and take the glove off a moment later.

At the feeling of a touch against his cunt, though, he paused, his eyes snapping open, looking at him once more with brows raised. Well, what a surprise— he hadn’t thought that the man would have the sense to touch him like that, but clearly he had underestimated him.

Though the human’s technique was unpracticed, it was more than enough to do its job. As he could not steer his movements with his bound hands, he had to instruct by voice alone, murmuring gentle instructions to the man occasionally.

“No... Ah, yes, there... To the left... Keep doing that...”

And at last, he was left flushed, could feel the slickness between his legs, and looked up at the man, nodding quietly. “All... All right,” he said, quiet. “I’m ready.”

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

After hearing Vielle’s moans and instructions, feeling his hard body and wet pussy, and seeing his nod, Daniel, against all odds- having sex with another man, an elf no less, and with people watching- was hard as a rock, and with a bead of precum leaking out.

Daniel couldn’t believe that such a beautiful creature was going to envelop his cock, that he would finally lose his virginity. He wanted desperately to take off his helmet, stand on his toes, and kiss the other man’s full lips. But he knew he’d get stockaded at best and dishonorably discharged at worst for being a “Benny boy”- ie a homosexual in the military.

So instead, Daniel nuzzled Vielle’s forehead with his helmet for a blink- not the most pleasant sensation, he understood, but he hoped it meant something- and then said, “Sorry again about all this. Let me know if there’s anything you need from me while I do this.”

With that, he dipped his fingers in Vielle’s drooling snatch, rubbed a bit of the effluence on the tip of his cock, and then aimed himself towards the waiting hole. He ended up bumping areas other than the target a couple times and giving sheepish chuckles, but on the third try he slipped to the hilt inside Vielle.

“Fuuuuuck...nobody ever told me it’d feel like this,” Daniel groaned as he firmly steadied Vielle’s hips, just waiting inside the other man to get him used to his cock, and get Daniel used to him in turn.

 

[Winter]

Vielle was patient-- for he could be nothing else-- as Daniel got his bearings, finally letting out a hiss of breath as the man entered him. It had been... Some time since he had been fucked, and the clumsiness with which the human was moving certainly didn't make it easier to deal with.

And then he registered what the man had said.

"Nobody ever told me it'd feel like this."

And his head snapped up, brows furrowing. "Is..." he started to say, but the question died on his lips-- best not to ask him if it was his first time, even with as obvious as it was. He already looked nervous as it was. Still, he certainly did not envy the fact that this was his first time... Then again, could he say that his own first experience had been any better? Aside from the location, there was very little of it that was different.

It took him a few moments to adjust to the feeling of the man's cock inside of him, and a few more to reconcile with the fact that it belonged to a human, but then he let out a breath, and opened his eyes to look at him. "All right," he murmured. "I'm ready."

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

Daniel modded, feeling strangely like he could be honest with the elf, since after all, Vielle didn’t really know him and couldn’t leverage Daniel’s virginity...especially not now.

Then his hands reached around to squeeze the other man’s muscular ass as his cock started to move in slowly at Vielle’s command. Slowly so as not to hurt this marble specimen of an elf whose tight vagina was worshipping his cock, suckling on it so well.

“I...I want to make sure you feel good too. That you...cum,” Daniel exhaled. “So that we can both finish sooner, you know? Just keep telling me how to touch you,” he added as he continuously played with Vielle’s clit and hood gently.

 

[Winter]

He exhaled quickly, a little ‘oh!’, when he felt the other man reach around back and squeeze his ass. The human was getting surprisingly (and that was not to say that that was necessarily an unpleasant sort of surprise) touchy with him for what this situation was, but... Well. He wouldn’t complain, really.

Even if it was strange. Were all humans like this...? His eyes flicked to Daniel’s compatriots watching from behind the bars.
Oh. Right. Of course not. What a silly question.

“Hm?” He glanced back to the man at his comment, and just barely managed to stifle the laugh that it was his instinct to have. He could appreciate the gesture of making this enjoyable for him, but...

Well. It seemed an odd task, given the situation.

“All right,” he murmured, leaning his head back against the cold stone of the wall, eyes sliding shut. “Hn... Harder. Ah— yes, like that. And touch my chest. You need not be gentle. I won’t break.”

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

Daniel had gotten to be a soldier by following orders. He’d excelled as a soldier by going above and beyond the call of duty. So he followed Vielle’s sweetest orders by playing with the other man’s nipples, and thrusting as hard as he could, slowly picking up speed.

And yet he went above and beyond (he hoped) by firmly palming and massaging both of Vielle’s pectorals before using one hand to massage his clit as Daniel’s inexperienced but eager cock stretched him out.

 

[Winter]

To races outside of the Confederation, the way that elven gender worked was notoriously difficult to understand. Were it not for his physique, it was entirely possible that the human soldiers might think him female— and perhaps some of them still did regardless— but that could not be farther from the truth in elven society. The fact that he had the features he did was something entirely separate from that, immutable in a way that even the latent magic that had affected his development would not change, and which had resulted in a certain softness and sensitivity in his chest that would not otherwise be present in a man of his race who did not have the genitalia he did.

Basically? He liked having his tits played with. And blessedly, the human seemed more than eager to follow his suggestion, hands firm upon them, the movements rough on his sensitive flesh almost to the point that tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, but he made no movement to ask him to stop, his fingers instead curling so that his nails dug into his palms, knuckles turning white.

“Ah... Yes,” he murmured, head falling back, and he shifted, angling his hips so that the human could thrust deeper into him, a quiet gasp escaping him. The man’s pace was rough, his technique inexperienced, but he made up for it with how he used his hands, and it was more than enough that, after several minutes, Vielle opened his eyes and looked to him, said quietly, “I’m getting close.”

 

[CasualVelociraptor]

“Y-you are?” Daniel groaned in utter pleasure as he took off his helmet that was baking his head and leaned his head against Vielle’s shoulder. “That’s, that’s wonderful! Oh, my gods...I’m...I’m barely hanging on either.”

Daniel said, “I bet that means you like how I touch you. It certainly seems that way,” and then dipped his fingers into Vielle’s crotch to feel the elf’s arousal all over his fingers. “And I like touching every soft yet firm inch of you...feeling everything you’re feeling,” he added before gripping a pec and one of Vielle’s ass cheeks.

After a little bit more thrusting and groping on his part, Daniel freed his right hand from Vielle’s ass cheek. But instead of going for the white haired male’s pussy again, he instead angled his body to block anyone from seeing as Daniel caressed Vielle’s left cheek.

Then he kissed the elf tentatively and whispered, “Please...just one last thing. I need you to cum all over my cock. You think you can do that for me?” all while looking deeply into Vielle’s eyes.

 

[Winter]

Gradually, as he processed the man’s words, it struck Vielle how strange this situation was. Daniel was speaking to him— and treating him— as if he was his lover, rather than a prisoner who, to be quite honest, would rather be anywhere but here. And it wasn’t that the elf could begrudge him for that, truly— this surely wasn’t the way he had imagined his first experience would go— but rather, he could not help but feel sorry for him.

What did he think would come of this? He did not seem a bad person, had been willing not to do it. Yet now he was, and he was too kind, far too kind for a soldier to be treating a prisoner.

There was a chance they would not even see each other again beyond this night.

Vielle wanted to say something. To apologize, perhaps, although he struggled to find the words to verbalize what it was possibly for. Yet, when he finally could think of something, and he opened his mouth to say it, the human had already removed the helmet, and kissed him, and his mind went blank.

He certainly hadn’t expected that.

“I—“ he started, and he wanted to say something, something along the lines of this was a horribly dangerous thing to do, the tenderness with which he was treating him, and that both of them would end up hurt by this— but he could say nothing, and instead he nodded, and an instant later he tensed, straining against the chains with a ‘clank’, back arching as his climax hit him. “Gods—“ he murmured, breaths coming short for a few moments, and even as he seized around the man’s cock, trembling with the force of his orgasm, he felt moisture building at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m— I’m sorry...”