Main Pairing: Dickgirl Hybrid x Dickgirl Dragon x Female Wolf
Main Kinks/TWs: Incest, knotted cocks, breeding, mommy kink, threesome, vaginal, anal, oral, rimming, titfuck, messy cumshots, creampies
For Firsooth, who was a joy to work with!~
...
Clad in obsidian-black armor, Pyra hailed the two guardsmen stationed at the entrance to Castle Calyrt. The guards immediately straightened their posture and gave a short bow at the sight of her.
"Glad to see you back, Captain!" One of the guards, a hellhound wearing the standard silver chainmail of his position, greeted her with a toothy smile. He was one of her many younger siblings who served under their mother and monarch -- the Red Queen.
Pyra nodded, her face hidden beneath an ornate helm that was sculpted into the visage of a dragon's maw. "You didn't think some rabble would be any threat to me, did you?" She chuckled softly. "The trouble-makers have been dealt with -- I've left the ones smart enough to surrender in the hands of the city watch."
"That's why you're our captain," the other guardsman said, regarding Pyra's imposing form with a mix of reverence and fear in his eyes. As an average lykin, rather than a dragon/lupine hybrid -- hellhounds, as they were often called -- he stood a head shorter than either of them. "T-time for some well-deserved rest and relaxation, eh?"
"The Queen's Blade must always be at the ready... But perhaps some respite is in order," she said, stepping past the two guards and into the grand entrance to Castle Calyrt, bidding them farewell with a raised fist. "Stay vigilant, men!"
"Aye, Captain!" The guards both shouted.
As the heavy stone doors shut behind her, Pyra sighed under her helm, finally greeted with the familiar sights and sounds of the castle lobby. An immaculately crafted statue of a dragoness stood at the far end of the hall, at the base of the polished red staircases leading to the castle's many sections and facilities -- resting upon a hoard of riches, gazing upon all who would enter her domain with crimson gemstone eyes.
"It's her..."
"That's the Queen's Blade, isn't it?"
She passed by numerous castle attendants on her way, murmuring at the sight of her in that imposing draconian armor and stopping to bow in respect. Pyra merely kept her head held high as she strode past them. Beneath that helm, she wore a proud little smirk. It wasn't in her nature to flaunt or boast of her position... But she still enjoyed the reverence that it brought.
Pyra headed downstairs towards her quarters. As soon as the door was shut and locked behind her, the hellhound dropped her shoulders and sighed, pulling off her helm and shaking out a messy mane of fiery red fur. She tossed it aside and then began undoing the straps and plates of her armor, piece by piece falling to the carpeted floor with dull thuds. Her suit was a work of art in and of itself -- commissioned by the finest blacksmiths and enchanters in the land, with countless black plates arranged in a pattern of scales to further invoke the image of a fearsome draconic warrior.
After shedding her armor, the hellhound stood wearing a simple dark undershirt. She left her armor strewn about the floor in a messy pile. Rolling her shoulders and craning her neck with a satisfying pop, Pyra pulled apart a sliding door near her bed and descended a short flight of stairs, into her bathing quarters.
A spacious stone tub sat in the middle of the chamber. There were fresh towels hung up on the walls, and racks containing all manner of artisan soaps and oils arranged around the rim. Looming over the tub was a statue of a water dragon's head with its maw open. Lanterns fitted with alchemical crystals reacted to Pyra's presence, setting the chambers alight in a soothing cyan glow.
Pyra turned a valve embedded into the base of the tub, and a rush of steamy hot water poured from the dragon statue's maw. It functioned via an indoor system of water pipes and heating magic -- a luxury often afforded only to high-class bathhouses, but an everyday convenience to the Queen's Blade.
Casually, she stripped out of her undersuit and tossed it aside, wearing only some thin panties that she then slid down her toned, slender thighs just as quickly.
Pyra glimpsed her naked self in the mirror. It was a sight few could claim to have witnessed.
Dense muscle sat beneath a coat of red fur, sculpted by the life of a warrior and marked with no shortage of scars, each worn as living proof of her servitude to the crown. She sported breasts that were firm and modest on her powerful frame, and abdominal muscles chiseled into a hard six-pack.
The moniker of hellhound was an apt one -- coined first by those unfortunate enough to face them in battle, and then widely adopted with pride by her and her kin. Standing at nearly seven feet tall, she possessed all the cunning and ferocity of a wolf, combined with the sheer physical prowess of a dragon.
Another part of her, just as prominent as her musculature, was the thick, fuzzy sheath hanging between her thighs, just above a pair of heavy, hanging balls. She had the Red Queen's bloodline to thank for that aspect of her anatomy.
It wasn't long until a steamy mist rose from the bathtub. Shutting off the valve, Pyra tested the heat with her paw before gingerly stepping inside, letting out a relieved sigh as the hot water enveloped her thighs.
"Hhaa..." She cooed. Sinking the bottom of the tub and sitting, submerged just above her chest, the hellhound closed her eyes and focused on the water caressing her aching, scarred body.
Minutes passed by in relative bliss... Until the door to the bath chambers creaked open, followed by quiet footsteps.
Pyra's ears pricked. She knew for certain she had locked the door. Within seconds, she became alert, teeth bared, claws out, and ready to face whoever intruded on her bathtime. "Who goes there?" She barked.
"...Is that any way to greet your mother, child?" A soft, feminine, and familiar voice calmly retorted. "I've been looking for you."
Instantly, Pyra softened, faced with a lykin woman draped in flowing azure robes.
Kura -- Castle Calryt's head shaman, lover to the Red Queen, and more importantly, her other mother. She slipped a set of enchanted keys back into her pocket.
"...Oh." Prya sank back into the pool and sighed. "What is it, mother?"
"Well, since wanting to visit my firstborn isn't reason enough it seems, I have messages to relay from Vive herself," she said, stepping towards the tub. "But first... A bath would be wonderful right about now. You don't mind if I join, do you?"
Before she could even open her mouth to respond, Kura untied her robes and let the fabric pool around her feet, revealing herself to wear nothing underneath. Jet black fur covered her body, free of the white or gray patterns that were common among the lykin. The only discoloration present was some very light fading on her muzzle and atop her head. Smoky white eyes contrasted the inky darkness of her fur.
No words could better describe the shaman's body than matronly. Every inch of her held a pleasant, subtle softness, from her bountiful chest to her slightly pudgy stomach, down to curvaceous thighs that could make any red-blooded man weep, and hips that were truly fit for bearing children -- a purpose she had fulfilled well, given just how many hellhounds were produced by her and the Red Queen's coupling.
Despite pushing her sixties, Kura still largely gave the appearance of someone twenty years younger. It was the work of the land's most talented alchemists, assembled by the Queen herself, that kept the lykin youthful and fertile beyond her years.
Pyra bunched up her fists under the water and tore her eyes away, chewing her bottom lip a bit.
Stepping into the water and sinking in, Kura let out an exaggerated, sighing moan. "Aah... Divine~" The shaman rested back across from her daughter. "So, another group of rebels dealt with, hm? You hardly ever seem to take any time for yourself."
Pyra raised an eyebrow. "As long as there are enemies to the crown, then her blade must remain sharp, yes?"
"We live in a time of peace, child -- something rarely afforded to most nations. There will always be those who foolishly cling to the old regime, in spite of the prosperity our Queen has brought to the land, but these groups are weak and scattered. It hardly warrants the attention of the Queen's Blade, I think."
"It sends a message, mother. A message that no matter how small, any slight against our Queen warrants my attention," Pyra said, crossing her arms beneath the water.
"Perhaps, but taking action yourself presents its own risks, does it not? They know you tend to deal with things yourself, and could very well intend to lure you into a trap next time." Kura retorted.
Pyra snorted, turning up her snout. "I would like to see them try, honestly."
The shaman shook her head. "...You truly are Vive's daughter, child."
In return, she simply gave her a proud smile. "Indeed I am, mother. Now, surely this wasn't all you came to discuss?"
"Ah, I nearly forgot." Kura cleared her throat, a mischievous smirk tugging her lips. "By royal decree, you've been relieved of your duties as captain of the guard until further notice."
Pyra's cocky expression changed to shock in less than a second, shooting upright as if the steamy bathwater suddenly turned into ice. "WHAT!?"
