Dragons Take a Princess Short Story Box Set Read online

  How did a dragon know about a woman, anyway?

  Only with experience. How many princesses had he captured before, or noblewomen? How many taverns had he frequented under the guise of a human, with that mysterious ability to shapeshift? And could all dragons shapeshift?

  That put a new spin on things. Perhaps their high success rate of capturing princesses came with the shifting. But then, why did no princess mention it when they were rescued?

  “Humans have soft spots along their bodies. Areas that are more sensitive to touch than others. Fetishes, if you will. Some people, for example, love having their feet played with. Others, it's kissing the neck. Others still, it's pain or being stroked on the underside of their arms.” He demonstrated each area as he spoke, the rough fingers of his left hand touching her ticklish foot, her neck, her arms, along with the faint scratch of pain on her shoulders. She traced each movement in her mind and with her eye, often holding her breath, finding every single point of contact pleasurable and scandalous. She also felt disconnected from her body, as if it didn't belong to her, because it didn't respond to any of the voices in her head telling her to get away, to protest, to stop this, somehow. She just lay there, trembling like a mouse as the cat played with her, all the power under his command. It was strange how areas not related to sex could be so arousing.

  “Here,” Kazak murmured, his green eyes flashing as he caught her startled gasp, as his hand dug under her nightshirt and seized her right breast. “Sometimes these are sensitive. And when you are aroused, your nipple pokes out. See?” His fingers circled her nipple, and it stood almost painfully to attention, greedy for his touch. “Some women like to be pinched, but I think a princess like you is rather unused to pain.”

  A princess like me? She didn't know whether to feel insulted or not about that. Her mind was on fire, along with the rest of her body, and she wanted him to hurry up, to reach the part of her that ached for contact, the space between her legs.

  How horrifying, that she wanted to be used. Violated, even. Was this normal? Did anyone else feel like this?

  “You'll be surprised on how few people truly know their bodies,” Kazak whispered. “It's a shame. People act like their bodies are evil, when their bodies are simply designed to react to stimulus. Like here...” his right hand slid between her thighs, brushing over the trimmed hairs there. “You have a lot going on, here. Take this. Your entrance is here. It's where your blood comes out, your children. It becomes wet when you are aroused. Like so...” his finger glided along her impossible wetness down there, and she heard a soft groan from him. For some reason, that noise turned all her senses to hyper alert, making her far more aware of everything he was doing, and the subtle expression changes in his face. His warmth radiated over her, overwhelming her sense of being with the strength of his aura, the way he stole attention just by walking into a room, drawing her focus without fail like a magnet to observe him.

  “You don't have a hymen. Not all women have one fully developed, or they can be torn from activities. So it's not always a good indicator if you're a virgin. But you are... I can see it by the flush in your cheeks, and the way you shiver.”

  I should get him to stop now. Before he...

  She cried out as one finger slipped into her entrance. He pushed in slowly, to give her time to adjust. “You're tight.” He sighed as he said that, before his long finger touched something inside her. “This... is what is rumored to be your sweet spot.” His finger, buried inside her, pushed against the sweet spot. It felt odd, peculiar, but not unpleasant. It didn't feel as pleasurable as she expected, however, and a wave of disappointment hit. He pressed a few more times, and it was nice, strange, but not sweet.

  “Hmm. Not all women are able to come this way,” Kazak said. He allowed his hand to slip out of her. “Do you know that you don't pee from there?”

  Marea snapped out of her sexual haze for a moment, bewildered. “What?”

  Kazak chuckled. “You actually pee here.” His finger now went up her slit, before stopping midway from her entrance.

  Marea now bent to look, though normally, she wouldn't have even dared. Her... organs down there looked so bizarre. She saw where his finger rested, parting the folds down there. “Really?”

  Holy Hell. I'm actually interested.

  “Really. Another thing that humans don't always know. Of course, I've been saving the best thing for last.” Kazak smirked, making sure she watched his finger as he moved it up slightly, until it rested at the top of her nether regions. “You see the little hood here?”

  Hood?

  All Marea saw was an odd fold of flesh. “Yes. I suppose so.”

  “You have something very sensitive underneath here. So sensitive, that we will need your arousal to guide it.”

  He gathered up some of her wetness, pushed apart what he called the folds, revealing a tiny nub of flesh. Marea's heart hammered in excitement. She sensed, somehow, that all the tight coiling in her stomach was connected to this. When he pressed his finger feather-light there, and twitched it, she let out a gasping moan, instantly shuddering from the explosion of pleasure that jolted through her.

  “Oh,” she said. By Hell's Teeth, she'd never felt anything like that before. Was this why women liked...

  Whatever thoughts she tried to process then quickly became drowned out in a moan of mindless bliss, as he began flicking her nub with rhythmic patience. The pleasure became so intense that she tried to wriggle away, to gasp at him to stop, but he didn't. He pinned her quite firmly down, his finger expertly caressing her down there.

  I can't handle this!

  She cried out, jerking and moaning, her head slamming back into the bedrest, her thighs trembling, wound up with pressure. They twitched out of her control, and her body tensed up. She needed to make him stop. She needed...

  Her heart beat so fast now, she thought it would halt in exhaustion, and she screamed when the pressure inside her grew, burning, crackling, until an impossible assault of bliss savaged all her senses, as she climaxed for the first time in her life. Her body jerked and shuddered, and the bliss infected her muscles, dragging her down into ecstasy. Her body continued to sink, even as she saw Kazak undo his pants, revealing an enormous cock that jutted out from between his legs. Before she could protest, or cry out, he began to stroke himself, closing his eyes and groaning, and she watched in fascination as his hand slid up and down, seeing how he stimulated himself, sometimes by reaching to his balls, sometimes by pinching the tip.

  The more she watched, the more she felt aware of her throbbing core, and the ravenous heat there, wanting him inside. Wanting that filling her up, where the empty was.

  Her heart picked up the pace it lost again, and she stared at him with a kind of hunger, quite willing to topple completely into the darkness that princesses were not supposed to experience.

  She had never felt so much desire before, not for a prince. But for a dragon turned human?

  He opened his eyes, pupils fully expanded so that the green became black, and he smiled. Then, he stopped stroking himself, and pulled her back suddenly, before lunging over her, so that her back and head pressed against the sheets, and his body hovered over hers. “I see your greedy eyes. You want more, don't you? You want to be fucked. You want to sin, to feel my heat inside you... who would have thought a princess would crave so badly?”

  Marea whimpered in response, hating herself for how needy she felt, with the lust burning up all fragments of purity and good she harbored inside.

  “Please...” she whispered.

  In response, Kazak adjusted himself so that the tip of his cock rested against her entrance. Then, he pushed himself inside, and once again, Marea melted in pleasure, sighs and moans escaping from her mouth as the dragon had his way with her, pounding into her, stretching her out, stabbing right into the hollowness inside, the part of herself she never dared touch, or help. Much of this moment blurred past her, except for the fact in the way he broke her virginity, and ma
de her realize, for the first time, that she wasn't the good girl everyone expected her to be.

  Perhaps that meant she wasn't really a princess at all. Just one wearing the mask.

  When he came, and withdrew himself from her, there was a tender smile there, just for a moment as he stroked her hair, before he left her alone, to sleep in a bed that suddenly felt too small, with a newfound heat simmering away inside.

  Even if she did get rescued now – would any man want someone who had been claimed by a dragon?

  She didn't know. But when she slept, her dreams were light, and her soul calm.

  Chapter Four

  Ever since that night, something fundamental had shifted in Marea. She couldn't place a finger on it at first, because she wasn't generally that introspective. She still did chores every day, though this time, she found herself thinking through each one, trying to figure out ways to make her life easier, more efficient. In other words, to get better at doing the basic tasks she was assigned to. It amazed her, really, to discover that even the most basic, essential tasks that all peasants could do, having been raised up in households where they were expected to contribute, it still needed finesse and forethought to do efficiently.

  For example, with the dishes, it made more sense to start with the cleanest items first, like mugs and glasses, and work her way to the cutlery last, so she could preserve more water. With mopping, she needed to start in one corner and replace the water often, and work out how much water covered what.

  It felt rewarding to be able to achieve these simple tasks, when she stepped back to admire her handiwork, the cleaner floors, the fresher smells.

  Slowly, but surely, she became more confident in her own abilities. She no longer felt pampered and aloof, and spent far less of her time whining.

  Sometimes, Kazak came to her in the night to spice things up, to make her heart, mind and soul keep feeling the things she never used to experience.

  Kazak watched her blossoming confidence with a tiny smile upon his lips, though he still locked her in the tower to prevent her escape whenever he left the cave on business. Whatever kind of business dragons got up to.

  Once, one of Kazak's friends visited with his princess in tow, a rather grumpy, dark haired woman called Ness, who did nothing but lament her fate to Marea as they sat together at the servant's table, a short distance from the main feasting table, where the dragons maintained their eminently practical human forms for the smaller portioned feast.

  “I've been captive for eight months,” Ness said, her voice holding that familiar whine that Marea herself utilized in the first few weeks of her imprisonment. “Eight months, forced to work every day, and only three knights have come to try and save me. Three! I'm so ashamed. It obviously means I'm not worth anything to Questers.”

  Marea pursed her lips, thinking about the lack of knights that had come for her. A thirty-year old princess, unmarried and devalued, with a family that were more exasperated with her then pleased. They had probably offered an insultingly low price for her, not enough to encourage Questers to risk their lives for fame and glory.

  Ness herself looked quite pretty, but clearly hadn't adapted to her fate after eight months, nor bothered to try. She as much admitted she cried herself to sleep every night, and did everything she could to sabotage the home, even though she'd have to end up cleaning it anyway.

  “My life is a tragedy,” Ness declared, pasting a hand over her head in a dramatic gesture. “I will die old and unloved and the slave of a dragon. I swear if I have to see another cockroach, I will just die.”

  Marea found herself getting irritated by Ness for some reason, even though she saw herself in the princess's manner. “So, your dragon just makes you work and locks you up?”

  “Yes, as is typical of those beasts. And he has all his horrible friends coming over, though sometimes that can be a good opportunity for the other captive princesses to talk. It can be the only times we get to go outside.” Her beautiful dark eyes welled up with artful tears, temporarily making Marea at a loss for words.

  So, what Kazak did with her, that wasn't typical dragon behaviour? She knew not to push the matter, not without aggravating this delicate buttercup of a princess. She hesitated at her mental phrasing.

  Delicate buttercup?

  She also suspected Kazak gave her a little more attention than the other dragons. Well, aside from the obvious thing, he did greet her, say goodnight, and sometimes ask about how her cleaning went, and occasionally probe into her past, though he gave nothing of his. She didn't know what kind of past a dragon had, though surely they started with some kind of mother and father, maybe siblings, before they became their monstrous adult forms.

  What did she actually know about Kazak? A green scaled dragon who invited his friends over and held feasts in human forms. What did that mean? A network of a sort, of neighboring dragons, going to their places or having them come here. They showed off their princesses, so a princess was a status symbol. Did dragons have kings? Queens?

  Were there even any female dragons? Marea hadn't seen any turn up at the cavern.

  Marea smiled and nodded, listening to Ness's woes, before breathing a sigh of relief when she packed off and left. Eventually, it was just her and Kazak alone.

  “You looked like you weren't enjoying that at all, princess,” Kazak said, with a faint smile. He always had that infuriatingly calm expression on his face.

  “Ugh. She was so annoying. I guess that's why you lock princesses up all the time.”

  He let out a roar of laughter. “Good logic.” Then he hesitated, eyes narrowing. “I'm afraid you'll have to go back to your tower, princess. We have another visitor.”

  Baffled, Marea did as bid, running anxious fingers through her blonde hair, going up the stairwell in her flat soled shoes and simple peasant gear. At the top, she heard him lock the door behind her. Curious, she headed to the window, and peered out into the mountainous terrain below, the Wilderness of Kazak's home. She saw, with a leap of her heart, a knight, standing in full shining armor, sword and shield at the ready. In fact, he was clanging his shield for attention, and when he caught Marea staring from the appropriately designed tower, he shouted to her, and his voice came faint.

  “Princess Marea! I'm here to rescue you!”

  Oh, okay then. My first Quester. Marea watched in fascination as Kazak came bellowing out of the enormous entrance of his cave, fully clad in his dragon form, before rearing up.

  “Who dares challenge me!” Kazak said. His words had the ring of tradition. For some reason, Marea found it amusing to see this huge dragon, which could probably bite the Quester in two, standing on his hind legs, tail swishing, leathery wings furled behind him as he balanced on the hard stone.

  The knight raised his sword. “It is I, lord Godric of Larusa kingdom! I come for princess Marea, fiend, who you've cruelly kept imprisoned. Prepare to die!”

  Larusa kingdom? That was one of the center kingdoms. Bigger than her one, interestingly enough. If he won, he'd return her to her parents and ask for a boon, which could be anything from gold to asking her hand in marriage.

  Suddenly, she realized she didn't want Godric to win. She wanted Kazak to escape from this unscathed.

  Sun and Stars, I want the DRAGON to win?

  “I accept your challenge!” Kazak swished his tail violently, and the knight clanged his shield in reply.

  Even monsters follow tradition, like the kingdoms. Perhaps they're not so monstrous, after all.

  The knight looked as if he had good gear. He'd likely Quested to some forest witch to get better items, gone into some mysterious cave for the sword, or rifled all the gear from a mysterious trader travelling on a rickety cart with a hood obscuring their features. The harder the Quest, the better the item.

  Didn’t people fight dragons as well for a chance to reach their treasure hoard?

  The knight struck first. He whirled the sword, and some kind of shockwave came from it, which Kazak buffeted asi
de with his tail, before crushing down on the knight with his front paws. The knight rolled out of the way, and held up his shield in time to deflect a blast of fire, which dissipated into the shield.