Serving Her Friends

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Ron panted, the dragon surrounded by strong, dragoness bodies. His mistress was there, but her towering, red-scaled form loomed behind him, clutching the back of his neck firmly. That was harder than it may otherwise have been to do, considering that her collar was tightened around his throat.

"All of them. Every one."

His cock was hard, though the potion that she'd had him drink down had brought his ridged, large cock to full-mast. Sometimes, Ron wondered whether that was the first thing that had caught Mistress August's interest in him, what had truly caught her attention. Yet he did not know and would never know, not as he was submissive to her, caught up in the spell of his mistress.

They were home, but her friends and acquaintances surrounded him, all ones that he could serve, that he could please, all in some way. He toppled onto his back in the middle of the living room floor, furniture pushed back against the wall. All Ron got was a brief moment of feeling grateful that there was carpet in there before his muzzle was engulfed by a dragoness pussy, even though the dragoness that it belonged to was most likely no larger than him. She seemed bigger, however, more dominant, Ron quailing even as he meekly lapped up into her pussy, doing just what his mistress bid him to.

Someone took his cock, but he could not get soft, leaving him to relish in the feel of a hot pussy swamping him, hot and tight around his dick. Yet that meant that orgasm after orgasm would be milked from him, a pussy that he didn't see squeezing him, putting more and more pressure on him.

"Yes..."

Someone hissed, but he was there to serve, to please, under them, grunting, moaning, pinned in place, right where he belonged. He moaned into that hot pussy, tongue darting more and more greedily into her wetness. He may not have known her, but he still needed to please her, to find out what her quirks were, all so that he could get her off, to see her shudder and buck with need.

She climaxed on his muzzle, but there was someone else there, another riding his cock, the tightness in the pit of his belly making him wonder when he was going to get to cum. He held the thought with due trepidation in his mind, moaning softly, drifting and fading back and forth on a sea of pleasure, his hips tipping from side to side.

Someone held his paws down. He didn't care. He may as well have been securely bound, from head to toe, for all the freedom that they allowed him. It was as it was and he could only please, swamped in a delirious sea of pleasure as it washed over him, again and again.

The drake grunted deeply in the back of his throat, but he was lost to them, murmuring into another pussy, even while the juices of the first remained slick on his muzzle, gleaming on his scales. It was where he needed to be, where he belonged, serving every last one of her friends, doing as she wished, all because she owned him, because she could do anything at all to him, using and "abusing" him, if it could even be called that. He loved it too much, as harshly as she sometimes treated him, though different folks, well...they liked different things and that was okay too.

He moaned, climaxing, yet he could not even thrust with how heavily and forcibly he was pinned. He grunted and tipped his head back, slurping up into that wanton pussy, used in all ways, even though...there was more...

His dick ached, pulsing with need, another seating herself on his cock, though he was pushed up and up, abs contracting, lifted by so many paws that he hardly needed to engage any muscles at all in his body. He pushed into the needy dragoness on all fours, another grinding back onto his muzzle while something thick pressed up under his tail.

They would, after all, use him in all ways, and that meant even taking him up the backdoor entrance while he shuddered in place, grunting, moaning, submitting. It put him in his place, even while he was being playfully forced to penetrate another, cementing just how his body was merely there to be a toy and a plaything for all of them. It didn't matter that the dragons there were not his mistress, the dragoness merely orchestrating everything so that her pet could be shown his place. Her friends, of course, deserved a good time too, but it was the passion that she allowed him to experience, all under her control, that was the true divinity of such a moment.

Dragon after dragon sat on his muzzle, taking his body, using his dick, his arse, his backside squeezing down around strapped on cock after cock, allowing them to power up inside him. He had no choice, but that lack of choice was something that Ron had already given up, so much so that he rarely heard his name even uttered at any time.

He didn't need a name. Not when his arse was in use, dictating the force and push of his thrusts, grinding on, humping in, tongue dripping in dragon-juices, all as it was meant to be. He couldn't have imagined being anywhere else at all in the world, groaning deeply, lost in the moment, his tail flicking back and forth, though Ron could hardly even believe that he was lucky enough to be in such a position.

It didn't matter that he was being used, moaning and whimpering, only that his body gave them everything that they wanted. And that was just why his repeated orgasms, time after time again, meant nothing, the strain in his dick and balls growing, moment by moment, needing something, even if relief was not to come to him. How could he have ever wanted any kind of relief when he was there to serve, to please? It was not Ron fucking dragonesses but letting his body be used, moaning and whimpering, his mouth filled with a dragoness' arousal, never without.

All needed, so very much so, yet his mistress oversaw the servitude of her pet, all with a smile on her muzzle.

"I'm proud of you, servant."

He trembled. Maybe that was why he had to be down there before her. Maybe it was just one of many things.

All Ron knew was that he lusted for her all the more, her control and dominance overpowering.

All that it needed to be, it already was.