Willing

4-8-15

Willing

One

Jenny Gardener was no stranger to the mysteries of childbirth. As the oldest of five daughters and sister to four younger brothers she had assisted in bringing all but the oldest of her siblings into the world. When she was small she had done little more than hold Mama's hand and helped keep her calm and steady while Old Mabel or one of the other women had done the actual delivery. But when baby Sybil was born during the great storm of '003 nobody had been able to get to the Gardener home in time and Jenny had brought her sister into the world all on her own.

Well, with a little help from Mama, of course.

So this time shouldn't have been any different, right?

Old Mabel was here and she knew everything there was to know about birthing a baby. She had been delivering babies, along with potions and salves and charms and the like, since way before Jenny was born. Probably even before Mama and Papa were born, too. Nobody was really sure exactly how old Old Mabel was.

But she was here and everything was going to be all right.

Wasn't it?

She raised her head and looked down past her own distended belly at the ancient woman kneeling between her thighs giving her directions. Jenny could feel the baby making it's way down her canal and she wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to weep with happiness and nervousness and a million other emotions which raced around and around in her mind like leaves caught in a whirlwind.

Speaking of a whirlwind, from the entrance to the tunnel came a great rushing of wind outside. It carried a roar of it's own and there was another deeper roaring over the top which echoed through the deep long tunnels as it came and went.

Master was restless and impatient and he circled the mountain like a thing possessed, giving voice to his unease and trumpeting to the sky. Folk for leagues around must be hiding in their cellars and whispering prayers he wasn't headed their way.

Jenny wished he would calm down. She was nervous enough for all of them and his throwing a tantrum wasn't helping any. This was her first child and she was told they were always the hardest.

This was very hard.

Hard to stay still.

Hard not to cry out with the ache, though she was no stranger to pain.

Hard to listen and obey the directions she was being told.

Oooohhhh god... this was hard.

And it hurt.

A squeeze on her sweaty fingers shifted her focus. A strong firm hand held hers. The hand was attached to a long nicely muscled brawny arm and that arm was likewise attached to the body of a tall handsome trained Guardsman of the Watch. She looked up at his face and saw the concern and love in his eyes and she could feel all of the strength he was giving her through this simple act of being there and holding her hand.

Andrew MacMeel, the love of her life.

Well, the second love of her life.

Master was still outside.

Her life was... complicated.

And getting more so by the second.

"Another 'un, dearie! Poosh ye now! 'Most done I says! Poosh gell! Poosh!" Old Mabel only had one tooth left in her head and at times she was a bit hard to understand.

But her directions were clear enough.

Bracing herself against Andrews grip, she bore down with all of her might, trying not to succumb to the pain and push the baby on through.

Push push push push push! Aaaaaahhhhh...!

Then there it was. She felt the awful pressure in her belly release. The absence was almost a different kind of pain in itself and she did weep this time, more in relief than anything else. So distracted she missed several of the next few moments while the old woman crouched between her sweaty legs and did things to the baby.

Her baby... wasn't crying.

They always cried.

"My... my baby?"

The wizened old woman held up the newborn in her hands wrapped in a blanket, the old gray rheumy eyes wide as she stared at the child.

"Oooohhhh, my..." Was all she had to say.

Two

Back To The Beginning

She had awoken, much to her surprise.

Her heart was beating hard and fast, as if she had awakened from a nightmare and she felt sweat cooling on her brow. If she had been dreaming, the last vestiges of it faded away by the light as her eyes opened and she surveyed her surroundings.

Half surprised it didn't look like the inside of a dragon's belly.

One just never knew with dragons.

As a child Jenny Gardener had been fascinated with dragons. She had gone to see all of the plays which dealt with them and sought out the storytellers as they sat on the corners begging for pennies and dunned them for tales of the great beasts. Once or twice when she was older she had actually been able to see books... real bound books with color drawings, some of which actually fit the pictures in her active imagination.

The little tin chest in the corner of her room which held her clothes also contained dozens of fanciful drawings she had done herself on any scrap of paper or parchment or skin she was able to get her hands on. Her childhood dreams usually had two favorite themes... herself as the mighty hero slaying a great beast or as a powerful princess with a fierce dragon as a pet.

So strong had her desires been she ran and played and climbed and fought as hard and as rough as any of the boys. Young Jenny learned how to fight with staves like swords and how to shoot a bow and use a knife, even if it was just a stick because Mama wouldn't let her have a real knife yet.

Whatever her future held for her, she was going to be ready for it.

As the years progressed Jenny grew into a beautiful strong young woman. Life on the Gardener farm was hard but not difficult and the work she had to do each day between the fields and the animals and helping Mama in the kitchen kept her body strong but also gave her mind time to wander.

Those wanderings almost always took her back to familiar ground.

Most nights she dreamed of dragons.

Then, in her nineteenth year, everything changed.

Including her dreams.

It was in that year a real dragon came.

Though she had been evacuated to the woods against her will with the rest of the women and children, Jenny had climbed high into a tree and watched as the magnificent beast approached and landed in the harbor.

She didn't dare even blink. Her pale green eyes shone with the dragons fire.

Or breathe.

It felt as if even her heart had stopped beating in her chest.

A God had come to Laketown.

His name was Grond Deucalious.

"That boy is dead, I tell you! Dead! The dragon et him seconds after he was left there, mark my words." Papa waved a half eaten chicken leg to emphasize his claim which made Jenny a little queasy at the picture it put in her mind.

"More's the pity, though. A fine young man from all accounts. The Captain himself was all set to promote the boy on the day that monster came. Now he is nothing more than a dead hero, Gods bless his soul." He paused and shook his head. "Though I hate to say it, better him than all of us."

"What if it didn't kill him, Papa? What if he is still alive as the dragon promised?" Papa snorted and shook his head.

"Dragon promises..." He shook his head again. "He lied, Jennygirl. It's what they do. All they care about is gold and eating. Dragons have no honor. No, girl. As sure as there's rock in the ground, that boy is dead."

As much as Jenny loved her Papa and valued his wisdom, she really hoped he was wrong this time.

Three

Mama had screamed of course when Jenny had been selected. Wept and hid her face in her apron, shoulders wracked with her sobbing.

Papa had shouted and threatened and beat up two of the guardsmen who tried to stop him when he tried to pull his daughter away forcibly.

Captain Minhollah stepped in and spoke to both of them softly. Jenny couldn't hear what he said to them, but whatever it was they both dropped their shoulders and nodded after long minutes. At one point he even took hold of Mama and Papa's hands, went to one knee and bowed his head to them. They both looked a little shocked such a great and important man as Reeves Minhollah would bow his head to them in such a way.

She was allowed five minutes to say goodbye to her family. There were more tears and more hugs and then she was taken away. A small deportation of older women from the village stripped her and bathed her and slipped a clean white robe over her head then she was taken to the boat and rowed upriver.

Jenny was going to meet a dragon.

To be completely accurate, she was going to be sacrificed to a dragon to save her town.

She was more excited and more terrified than she had ever been in her life.

The Captain held her hand the entire way. He spoke about her bravery and how proud of her he was and how she was sparing the lives of thousands of the citizens of Laketown with her brave sacrifice.

In some ways he wasn't really helping.

But she took his words in the spirit they were offered.

As he led her to the flat stone she was startled to feel his big strong hands tremble just a little. His craggy face was damp with tears which he allowed to flow unimpeded down his cheeks. He hugged her tight and whispered in her ear.

"If... if you happen to meet a certain redheaded young man... please give him my love and greatest regards."

Then he was gone and Jenny was left all alone.

The mist rose around her as the boat rapidly disappeared.

"So beautiful..."

A flash of fire and the girls mind whirled away into darkness.

She awoke, much to her surprise.

Four

"Don't be frightened..." The voice filtered through the fog in her mind as she struggled awake. Something had hold of her hand and something heavy was around her neck choking her.

She jerked her hand free and sat up with a cry and a gasp, hands going to her throat. Whatever it was around her neck was hard and heavy and she banged her knuckles on it.

"Please miss! Please! I won't hurt you! Just try to relax... you are safe.. for now."

Eyes blinking, she tried to bring her surroundings into focus. She seemed to be sitting in a very large bed piled with pillows and soft blankets. Whatever it was around her neck seemed to be an iron collar with a thick heavy chain running off out of her view.

Perched on the side of the bed next to her was a young redheaded man in a short white linen robe. His face was almost as red as his hair and he seemed to be studying the ceiling of the room rather pointedly. Jenny realized with a start she had pushed the bedclothes away from her body when she sat up and that she seemed to be totally naked at the moment. A little shriek passed her lips and she snatched the sheet up to her neck.

"Go away! Who... who are you? What do you want?"

"Where is the dragon?"

Once she had covered herself with the sheet, the man seemed to regain the ability to look at her once more. He held both palms out to her in supplication.

"Try to take it easy, miss. I will answer as many of your questions as I am able. That is why I am here." One hand went to his chest.

"As to who I am... I am Andrew MacMeel, former guardsman of Laketown." His fingers came up to touch the soft leather collar around his own neck. "Now I am property of and companion and servant to Lord Grond Deucalious, as are you."

"The great dragon?"

"The very same." Her eyes darted around rather frightened. She could see the large cage they were in but her gaze could not pierce the darkness beyond.

"Where is he?" One of his soft but strong hands laid on her arm, trying to be comforting.

"Not far away, miss. He will come soon. Right now he is content to listen. One thing you must realize about your new Master. He is an Emperor Dragon. The last and strongest of his kind." Andrew's eyes stared into hers earnestly. "From this moment forward he will always know where you are and what you are doing. He will hear the breath in your body and feel the blood in your veins and... if you survive... he will know the very thoughts in your mind. You cannot run from him. You cannot hide from him. And you cannot... must not ever ever lie to him."

"Do you understand?"

"Yes! No! Maybe... I don't know. I'm... confused. What do you mean if I survive? And... why am I naked? Did you do that?" Andrew rolled his eyes.

"You are naked because that is the way Master brought you here. The same way he brought me here. I am really trying to make this easier..." He shook his head. "But I'm afraid I'm just making a mess of it, after all."

Suddenly the young man cocked his head, as if listening. He nodded then climbed down from the bed and knelt on the stone floor, eyes down and hands on his thighs.

"What? What are you doing?" Andrews eyes flicked up at her, then back to the floor.

"He is here."

"Who..." A green light flooded the room, making everything glow in an odd way. Jenny raised her eyes from the kneeling man to look directly into the eyes of the dragon. Those eyes were the size of wagon wheels and they glowed with a heat she could feel on her skin. Little balls and drips of bluish green flame played around the snout and in between teeth big enough to tear apart a whole team of oxen. A tongue longer than her body flicked out and extinguished the flames.

When he spoke she could feel his voice all the way into the marrow of her bones.

"I... AM... GROND..."

Moments later he entered the cage, much smaller but still a man of impressive size. Andrew peeked from the corners of his eyes at his master's muscled body and felt his own responding. As a dragon, Grond knew no equal in size or strength. Nor as a man. His body was muscled and corded and immense, capable of legendary feats of strength.

The smaller man's gaze was also on that impressive tool which swung low between his masters thighs. It too was capable of legendary things, as Andrew could well attest. One of the many reasons he was such a willing slave to the dragon.

Grond shrugged himself into the long black robe which his accommodating pet had left on the huge black onyx throne in one corner of the cage. Turning to the bed, he pulled back the blankets and looked down on the lush pale body of the unconscious girl as she lay in a faint.

She was indeed quite comely. Firm ripe young breasts lay somewhat flattened against her chest with tiny pink little nipples. A slim waist and wide hips and a thick tangle of bright copper red fur at the juncture of firm strong thighs.

A rumble of pleasure came from his chest as his eyes swept up and down her body. Hunger of several types went through his mind.

She looked strong.

He hoped she was strong enough to live.

Grond turned away and spoke to his pet kneeling still, awaiting his instructions.

"Feed her and give her a robe, boy. I will give you until sundown to train her your way. In the morning I will train her mine. In the meantime..." He shot the boy a glance. "When the sun sets you will come to my bed, Andrew. Your master has needs."

The young man felt his whole body shiver and he grew instantly erect.

"Yes, my Lord! I will await you and your pleasure joyously." A low chuckle echoed in the chamber.

"Good boy."

Five

Strong fingers.

Strong enough to break the hardest steel or crush stone to powder. The merest flick from one finger could have torn the man's body in two, as fragile as a butterfly's wings.

Strong fingers indeed.

They were also capable of surprising tenderness.

The tips of those fingers played down the pale skin of the man's back as he shuddered and panted, leaning against the dragon's broad chest. Occasional shivers and moans came from his mouth as he pressed his lips to his master's heated flesh.

Through his fingertips Grond could feel the muscles moving under the boys skin. He could also feel as well as sense the blood coursing through his veins, the pattering beat of his heart, the firing of his synapses and the electric jolts of pleasure running up and down his pet's nervous system. Sending his awareness deeper, he could also feel the combination of his potent magic flowing through the boy, carried by the copious amount of seed he had injected into him, and his body attempting to repair the damage their lovemaking had caused.

Even though he tried to be careful, he always damaged his pet one way or another in satisfying his lust.

Grond was not used to moral dilemmas. He was an Emperor Dragon, after all. After all these long millennia finally the last of his kind. Now the strongest thing in existence in the world. Nothing could stand against him. Not kings nor vast armies or other great beasts nor even the Gods themselves. He reveled in lust and combat and causing terror among the lesser beings.

If he desired something, he took it. No matter if it were locked being the stoutest strongroom doors and bolstered with cunning magics or around the neck of a legendary king.

If he hungered, he ate. No matter if it were a flock of sheep or a battalion of warriors.

And if he hungered in... another way... he took that as well. And if the object of his desire was screaming and begging for mercy... so much the better.

Fuel for his fire.

Never needing to think about the consequences of his actions. There was nothing on this earth which could effect Grond or his life in any way.

Ages it had been since Grond laid with a willing partner. Many generations since he had one who could survive his lovemaking at all. The seed of an Emperor Dragon was the most magically potent thing in this world since the beginning of time. So imbued with powerful magic there was never a sorcerer or wizard born who could use the slightest amount without being consumed by it immediately. Time after time he had watched his bed partner immolated at the moment of his release.

It was often quite vexing.

Then came Andrew.

His willing young sacrifice.

From the moment he had first encountered the young redheaded guardsman Grond had sensed his strength. An inner power which Andrew himself did not even suspect. Perhaps one who could withstand both the dragon's physical demands as well as one able to survive the touch of his seed.

He had sensed something else as well.

Something which had stirred the dragon in ways not felt in ages.

He had sensed Andrews innermost desires. Yearnings of which he had never spoken aloud. His own inner secret fire.

The young guardsman had ached to be taken.

Dominated and enslaved by another man.

At the time of their first encounter Andrew MacMeel had been secretly hopelessly in love with Reeves Minhollah, the Captain of the Laketown Guard. A deep aching love which he knew would never be reciprocated. He desired for his Captain to take and enslave him for his own sexual use. To bind him and take him in any way and every way he wished.

Then he had met Grond.

And his life forever changed.

Now the proud strong trained soldier was the ecstatically happy slave of the most powerful being on the planet. Slave and servant, sex toy and property, lover, companion and friend.

As an adjunct of being the regular recipient of the dragons charged fluid, he was now the most magically powerful human to ever live. The magic made his body's ability to repair itself quite amazing in ways that quite pleased his master. Though Andrew wasn't aware of it, his ability to withstand damage and survive it had surpassed even that of the mightiest elves and he was well on the way to becoming if not immortal, than longer lived than any other being besides Grond himself.

To keep him forever.

To have this sweet body to take as his whenever and however he wished.

To be pleased with those strong knowing hands and that sweet sucking mouth and that tight snug little ass and to wring cries of pleasure from his pet's lips over and over again...

To keep him forever.

Grond was well pleased indeed.