Without my lamp, the going is slow, and I'm jumpy at every sound. Every flutter of wings, resonant screech, or faint shuffle could be the next monster girl ready to satiate her lust. And what if I run into one who just wants to eat, not rejuvenate her life-force with sex. I'll be devoured unless I can get away fast enough. I can't count on my newfound skill to save me from everything; it was, after all, only luck that got me out of that Serpent Girl's coiling grasp. Had my bag not spilled some of its contents, I'd be screaming in her crushing embrace, gasping for air and writhing as she raped me into a state of mindless servitude.
In the pitch darkness, I grope along blindly, shuffling my feet so as not to step straight into some yawning chasm lurking unseen in the blackness. My hands follow stone walls, leading me around wide chambers and through narrow passages. Once, I think I hear a monster girl giggling, a faint and disturbing sound, and I swear I can hear the quiet, animal-like whimper of a man in incredible discomfort. I want to help him, but how can I in this darkness? I'll likely get myself killed in the process if I try. So I pretend to have heard nothing, much as it goes against my every instinct, and press on through the seemingly endless subterranean labyrinth until, far in the distance, I see a light.
With a cautiously measured haste I pick up the pace, darting forward toward the light, eager to be out of this place. The tunnel widens as the light grows brighter, opening at last onto a wide room. High on the vaulted ceiling is a hole, through which a patch of moonlight shines. Off to the left, a burning pile of wood crackles invitingly, spreading warmth across the room, which would be otherwise quite chilly. And directly across from this fire, off to the room's right side in a natural alcove of stone, is heaped a pile of shining treasure: gold and silver coins, rings, keys, assorted gems, necklaces, and sheathed blades with jewel-encrusted hilts.
"My Gods," I murmur in awe.
How did this all get hear? Who would have left such a magnificent horde alone, unguarded in this dismal place? I can't help but stride briskly toward it, running my hands over the knee-high pile of valuables. It is so broad that I could throw myself down and sleep in this trove were I so inclined.
The sound of beating wings sends a shiver down my spine. I hear then the soft-yet-solid thump of something landing behind me and I turn slowly to face it. My heart goes cold. A dragoness.
She stands half a head taller than me, her build is athletic and beautifully muscled. She is a bipedal being, her long, shapely legs ending in feet with three toes. Each toe has a shiny black talon which digs into the floor. Her three-fingered hands have similar claws. All of her skin has a shimmer to it, caused by the presence of fine, iridescent scales. Her face is framed by raven-black hair, and a pair of horns protrude from her head just above her ears. Leathery dragon wings extend from her back, as does a long tail, scaly like her skin, and terminating in a keen barb. She wears armor which covers her ample breasts and more sensitive regions below, like a bikini made of solid metal. I wonder, if she is a reptilian monster girl, why she has breasts at all. Perhaps to entice males? Maybe they serve some function I can't yet fathom, but it's hardly important to contemplate now.
"A new treasure for my trove," she says in a sultry yet energetic voice, moving between me and the chamber's entrance. "And a pretty one, too."
"Thank you," I blush at the compliment, "but I'm afraid I can't stay."
"Ha, you think you have a choice, silly treasure."
Thus begins an interesting game, the dragoness edging toward me as I try to side-step her, moving about the circular room to get a clear shot at the exit. But she keeps putting herself in front of the passageway, forcing me to back off. She could just stand there in the natural doorway, but I think she enjoys toying with me, like a cat with a mouse. Eventually she does take up a position in the mouth of the passage, her feet braced apart, hands on hips, her tail casually swishing across the ground behind her. Her expression beckons a challenge, her eyes--with their vertical pupils--locked on mine. Very well then, I decide, challenge accepted. I can't evade them all.
I draw my katana with the metallic hiss of steel being freed to strike, and charge my opponent. At the last second I feint to the left as if I'm about to try and squeeze past her. But instead I direct a stab of the sword toward her mid section. The dragoness just stands still, tensing slightly, the claws of her three-toed feet digging into the clay floor, and takes the blow. The impact of sword on dragon-scales jars the weapon from my hands and sends it flying end-over-end through the air, falling just short of the fire opposite the treasure horde.
"Now that that's settled," she laughs, "you are all mine."
She throws an arm around me and pulls me in close. Her scaled skin is cool to the touch, but not unpleasantly cold, and despite the fact that it felt like stone when my blade struck, it feels surprisingly soft against my body, though I can very plainly feel the power of her muscles. Even with one arm, she keeps me effortlessly pinned against her voluptuous body. Her other hand easily tears away my clothes, tossing them aside. With no discernible effort, she lifts me up with one arm and slides off my boots, throwing them aside as well, leaving me entirely nude and at her mercy.
"Let go!"
"Dragons never release their treasure," she explains, carrying me over toward the fire. "Now I have you, so you will never leave me alone, boy."
"My name is Devlin," I snap, struggling now as she cradles me in both arms against her armor-clad bosom.
"Devlin, my little treasure," she repeats. "And I am Akaria, the prettiest dragoness in all of Thuralia."
"And the most modest," I quip.
"Of course," she laughs. "Dragons aren't modest, silly boy."
"Well, Akaria," I offer, "you certainly are lovely, but I can't stay with you forever. I have a life."
"And now that life involves me."
There will be no reasoning with her, best to just humor the confident dragon girl and escape while she sleeps. Akaria lays me on my back by the fire, taking a moment to sheathe my sword and tuck it away safely against a far wall. On her way back toward me, she begins to unfasten her scanty metal armor, casting both pieces of mail onto her pile of treasure. She adopts a sensual gait on her approach to my prone body. Firelight dances off her scales, accenting the gentle sway of her hips and the perfect quiver of her large, perky breasts. I cannot help but stare.
"Never seen a dragoness before?" she teases, batting her long eyelashes.
"I saw dragons in my story books as a child, but none like you," I admit in a mesmerized tone.
"Oh, you mean the gigantic, four-legged reptiles," she offers. "I could take that form if you want, but I'd still want to rape you and that would probably crush you to death. To be honest, you're already pretty scrawny, even in this form I could break you on accident. But if a big dragon is what you want..."
She stops her walking and adopts a look of intense concentration, her wings extending to reveal their majestic span.
"No, no!" I hastily insist. "For the love of the Gods no!"
"Good," she laughs, "because that would be creepy, and I can't do it anyway."
I gawk at Akaria. Her sense of humor is... admittedly pretty funny. I laugh along with her while she joins me by the fire. She sits cross-legged near the flames and pulls me into her lap. I lay in relative comfort, staring up at her and trembling when she runs her claws over my flesh. An excited hum escapes her lips, and that only makes me shiver with greater anticipation. Her claws move over my chest and find my nipples, with which she begins to play, lightly squeezing and tugging at them. She very gently twists them back and forth at a slow rhythm, squeezing gradually tighter and twisting harder.
"Ouch!" I exclaim at last. "Akaria, those are sensitive. Be gentle, please!"
"Gentle?" She looks genuinely confused. "But Treasure, I wasn't even trying to apply much pressure at all yet. That wasn't even a fraction of a fraction of my strength."
"Firstly, my name is Devlin, not Treasure," I remind her, "and secondly, I'm not a dragon. I'm softer than you, breakable. Like a... uh... like a fine jeweled necklace," I add, playing to her inherent love of shiny things, "I could be broken very easily."
"I'll call you Treasure if I want to," she answers sternly. "But, you're right about being breakable. I'll be careful. But, I apologize in advance for this, because it will hurt."
"What?!"
Akaria pins me down on the ground with relative ease, moving to sit astride my torso, facing away from me. I sit up immediately, kicking and struggling in every way, yet she is as immoveable as if she were made of stone. Two of the three fingers on her left hand circle around the base of my scrotum, squeezing tight enough to make me whimper, and completely trapping my testicles. As I sit up and lean forward, desperate to get away, I see her hold up a claw on her right hand and blow a tiny stream of concentrated heat onto the sharp digit until it is glowing blue with heat.
"I have to brand you as mine."
"Akaria, no! Please."
Like a whip made of rock, her tail lashes against me, knocking me to my back and pinning me. I don't stop screaming, pleading with her for mercy, but the words dissolve into shamefully high-pitched shrieks of anguish when her blazing hot talon touches my trapped scrotum. She works slowly, intricately, the searing pain making me thrash my head about wildly, as its the only part of me I can easily move. My eyes roll back in my head and I mentally plead with myself to pass out. But I remain conscious, aware for every second of Akaria's work as she applies just enough pressure with the talon to break the skin, the supreme heat immediately cauterizing the incision so that there is no blood-loss while she works: reheating her talon periodically and continuing her diligent work. Even through my pain, I eventually realize what she is doing, tracing the pattern of agony her talon at once carves and brands: her name, in small but elegant script, etched and burnt onto my scrotum.
"There, done."
I am a whimpering wreck, lying still on the floor, my eyes streaming tears. Akaria adjusts her position so that now she is laying upon me, her face mere inches from mine. Tenderly, she licks the teardrops from my cheeks and cups my face in her hands. Her eyes show a sensitivity, a genuine concern not displayed in her cruel treatment of my most personal area.
"I t-told you I'm soft, I can feel p-pain," I stammer weakly, my throat sore from screaming. "I begged for mercy."
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," she coos in a soothing tone, "but this is how we dragonesses are. We see a male we like, he becomes ours like any other treasure, and we brand him. Now you are my mate, forever."
