Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)
darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
"You really are quite fetching, for a human," Kassandra said. Her lips, painted almost a cruel color, twisted into a smile. She shifted subtly as she walked around her almost too plush room. Heavy drapes fell around an impressive canopy bed. A keen eye would take note that not only did the bed have the hanging fabric (richer than what most people could make in a year) as covering, but it also seemed to have several rings attached at varying heights, sticking out and looking quite strong. A mirror could appear in the top of it as well, and a rounded circle existed from the top. Golden opulence framed it all, down to the lush, deep purple of the sheets. The sheets, like everything else, were the finest ever made. As were the pillows. The bed felt like sliding into waves of softness that somehow managed to hold. It would be opulent even for a princess.
And that was just the bed.
Kassandra casually poured two glasses of wine into yet more opulence: this time in the form of sparkling crystal goblets. As she did, her deep purple eyes went to her guest. "You look nervous," she said. "I can assuage you of one fear," the woman slid over to the guest. Her dress, if you could call the flimsy fabric that covered her almost too lean body, slid seamlessly along a pair of perfect legs as she walked. Everything about the woman spoke of extreme beauty and perfection. Mortals designed goddesses to match Kassandra, from her exotic violet eyes to the striking white, almost silver hair, all the way down her curves. There seemed to be a touch of greek in her, perhaps in the chiseled features. If she lacked in anything, it would be that her breasts didn't bulge like some men's dream woman did.
Then again, dragons hardly cared for mortal dreams.
"You won't be eaten," the dragoness said, extending the goblet. "Or you'd be in my kitchen instead of my bedchamber," and again those lips twisted into an expression of pleasure. There was a slight slit to the eyes, one that grew pronounced as Kassandra extended her drink toward her guest.
Of course, this was a rather unique set of circumstances. True, said guest did happen to be a princess, a virginal one at that. And again, the predatory woman happened to be a dragon, a dragoness to be precise. That much lined up. However, the decor belied the year: well into the twenty first century, well after magic had reentered the world, well after dragons had become overtly powerful, and after mages had once again become a thing. The guest just happened to be one such mage, and that was what interested Kassandra. She also happened to belong to a royal family in a country that happened to be close enough to Kassandra's base of operations to be of interest. Said family had also greatly offended Kassandra's clan, and it had been the dragoness's duty to exact some sort of reparation for the offense.
She'd picked the nation's greatest treasure. A desperate monarchy, supposedly urged on by the princess, agreed.
Kassandra had followed through. And now she had a pet mage standing in her bedroom, with a drink of the finest wine ever made extended toward her.
And that was just the bed.
Kassandra casually poured two glasses of wine into yet more opulence: this time in the form of sparkling crystal goblets. As she did, her deep purple eyes went to her guest. "You look nervous," she said. "I can assuage you of one fear," the woman slid over to the guest. Her dress, if you could call the flimsy fabric that covered her almost too lean body, slid seamlessly along a pair of perfect legs as she walked. Everything about the woman spoke of extreme beauty and perfection. Mortals designed goddesses to match Kassandra, from her exotic violet eyes to the striking white, almost silver hair, all the way down her curves. There seemed to be a touch of greek in her, perhaps in the chiseled features. If she lacked in anything, it would be that her breasts didn't bulge like some men's dream woman did.
Then again, dragons hardly cared for mortal dreams.
"You won't be eaten," the dragoness said, extending the goblet. "Or you'd be in my kitchen instead of my bedchamber," and again those lips twisted into an expression of pleasure. There was a slight slit to the eyes, one that grew pronounced as Kassandra extended her drink toward her guest.
Of course, this was a rather unique set of circumstances. True, said guest did happen to be a princess, a virginal one at that. And again, the predatory woman happened to be a dragon, a dragoness to be precise. That much lined up. However, the decor belied the year: well into the twenty first century, well after magic had reentered the world, well after dragons had become overtly powerful, and after mages had once again become a thing. The guest just happened to be one such mage, and that was what interested Kassandra. She also happened to belong to a royal family in a country that happened to be close enough to Kassandra's base of operations to be of interest. Said family had also greatly offended Kassandra's clan, and it had been the dragoness's duty to exact some sort of reparation for the offense.
She'd picked the nation's greatest treasure. A desperate monarchy, supposedly urged on by the princess, agreed.
Kassandra had followed through. And now she had a pet mage standing in her bedroom, with a drink of the finest wine ever made extended toward her.