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🕑 Added 2025-06-16 08:16:22 +0000 UTCSaphira, The Eternal Tickle Pet
By KinkSaber
He knew something was very wrong when Emeralda visited. The Gem Dragon of the oceans felt the eldest’s cosmic power wane on that fateful day, and since then not a moment has gone by that Saphira wasn’t anxious or nervous. He hid deep in the oceans, under the crushing weight of water that he knew mortals could not protect themselves against, unlike the merfolk of the sea.
Saphira instructed the merfolk he lorded over to hide, to never show their face again to the surface dwellers. He was the last pillar that held the world’s cycle together, and without him, the planet would be doomed to a barren lifelessness. The seas remained bountiful for many years, unlike the forest, the desert, or the mountains. Without their respective dragons, resources depleted rapidly. A hundred years passed and the mortals barely felt the difference, but not so five hundred or a thousand. Then, in the blink of an eye, ten thousand years have gone by since the very last sighting of any of the dragons.
The border of the lands divided and reunited. Kingdoms fell and rose again. The face of the continent was barely recognizable. From the ruins of four distinct races and massive civilizations came one united empire on land; and then infighting fractured them into three once again. Three immortal kings led their respective rule, and each knew the other’s secret – for they all possessed a dragon of their own. Over the hundreds upon hundreds upon thousands of years, Escalion, Venescara, and Brionac all grew weary and tired of the constant, meaningless conflicts.
With the cosmic power of the dragons under their command, none of the three could best one another. Each kept the secret of immortality extremely well guarded, to the point where it was clear even to the average commoner that Escalion’s Mage Tower, the Abyssal Dungeons in the heart of the Fire Mountains, and the endless labyrinth of the Eternal Forests held the seat and core of each of the three immortal’s powers. Knowing where they were located was one challenge; but to reach it was a whole other beast. The stolen, corrupted, and jealously guarded cosmic power had stained the very halls that held the dragons captive with abominations and monsters, loyal only to the three kings themselves.
They met once every hundred years to discuss the political standings and to renew treaties, but most of these were superficial bureaucratic paperwork that the government staff took care of. The truth of the matter was they sought after the fourth and final dragon. As greed goes, the three were not satisfied with the one infinite source of power that they held within the palm of their hands.
But Saphira was wise and cautious to the point of paranoia. He hid in the depths where even sunlight could not penetrate the darkness of the waters, far away from the shores of civilization. His hiding place was not as deep as the Abyssal Dungeons under the Fire Mountains, but the sheer size of the ocean that covered the entire planet offered him an excellent hiding spot.
Then, there was his cosmic power. Saphira spread it out all over, and commanded the waves to disperse it with such fury that his signature echoed all over the world; from the seas to the shores, to the rivers and lakes, the rain and the fog, and the mist and the morning dew. Over ten thousand years it had become impossible to track the dragon based solely on his power alone. It was in the air, in the water, in the earth, and in every living thing that soaked up a single molecule in the water cycle.
That was the true topic of discussion for the three immortal kings. Saphira’s power had spread out so thinly and evenly that not even the combined might of Escalion, Venescara, and Brionac could even begin to point out the general direction in which he hid. Another hundred years passed, and another hundred years without progress.
Saphira thought of ways to escape. Unlike the mortals, he was not bound by the necessities to sustain life. There was a time when he looked up to the moon and wondered if he could escape there. Certainly, his power would allow him to flee the planet; but his charge had been to maintain the waters and keep it full of life. Could he still fulfill his duty from the moon? No. It was too risky. If he failed, the planet would be doomed; and Saphira could not have the death of billions of lives on his conscience.
Still, from time to time, he sensed a meager drop of power from Emeralda, or Rubius, or even Ambros. A single meager drop that resonated with him. The energy wave that permeated through the thick oceans that shielded him. He did not answer the call. He knew that the danger of exposing himself would put him in the same situation as the others. Whatever came after the other three was powerful enough to keep them captive; and Saphira knew that if none of the three could escape on their own, he couldn’t escape his own capture, either; and so he waited for a chance that he hoped would come. He slumbered while the merfolk guarded hundreds of temples built undersea to obscure his true location. He prayed to Mother Gaia and Father Ouranous in his mind and heart and soul for a miracle. A second miracle, after the creation of the world. It was something that he needed desperately against an unknown, unseen enemy.
If only Saphira had ventured out into the world and walked among the short-lived creatures, he would immediately notice the three mortals that should have died millennia ago, but didn’t; and from there deduced their involvement. Had he been in the Eternal Forests in the first hundred years of Emeralda’s capture, he could have freed the tickle tormented dragon before Brionac had learned to control and temper the sword to bend the dragon to his will. It was too late for that now. Saphira cowered in his ignorance.
Then, when it seemed impossible, Saphira dreamed of his brethren one moonless night. He saw them crystal clear, as if they stood before him. The great dragon of the oceans startled awake, and lifted his head. He tasted the magic in the water and listened to the song of the cosmic power. He heard them. He first thought it was an illusion, that his mind played tricks on him from centuries upon centuries of loneliness – but it was not so. There was a call from the other three to summon him. An intentional call rather than the occasional droplet, rather than the scent of a trail.
Saphira knew in his mind that it could be a trap; but after inaction for so long, he couldn’t bear to stay still any longer. This was the best chance that he had seen in ten thousand years, and if he let it slip between his fingers, there was no guarantee that another would come in the next ten thousand years. Saphira swam from the bottom of the deepest trenches of the oceans and drew towards the starry night sky.
There, in the air, three dragons flew in unison. Ruby red. Emerald green. Amber yellow. Each one left a trail of cosmic power in the air that sparkled like precious stones. Saphira gasped the mouthful of fresh air in the thousands of years he hid under the sea.
He spread his wings and sloughed off the water that weighed him down. For the first time in ten thousand years, Saphira took to the night sky and felt the darkness envelope him. He let the glow of his scales shine as brightly as the stars that draped over the land and seas as cape over the shoulders of man.
He flew higher. He tasted the trail of cosmic power left by the other three. Yes. They belonged to Emeralda, Rubius, and Ambros. Saphira released a trail of his own, and added to the color of the night sky, unseen by any other. Closer. Closer. He saw the shape of the other three, just as he remembered them the very last time they had appeared. Faster. Faster. He was catching up. He felt an emotion bubble in his chest. An emotion that he had never felt before. Relief? Gladness to see the other dragons once again? Saphira didn’t know what to call it. All that ran through his mind was to meet his brethren in the sky once more.
“EMERALDA! RUBIUS! AMBROS!” Saphira cried out. It had been a very long time since he rode the winds of magic. His voice boomed, but the three did not turn their heads to look. They flew onward. Saphira pushed himself and flew faster. Every last ounce of magic in his body he put towards increasing his velocity and to hold the air barrier that protected him. Like a blue tailed comet, Saphira blazed across the night sky until the three were within reach. “IT’S ME! IT’S ME! WAIT FOR ME!”
When he was close enough to see three figures that sat above the three dragons, it was too late for him. There was no longer a place that he could escape to – neither the bottom of the oceans, or the heart of Gaia, or the moon or stars.
On the back of each dragon was their captor, who, over ten thousand years, learned the ways of infinite cosmic power. Learned them so intimately that even the dragons were no match in knowledge or handling of it; for, you see, mortals always found a way to exploit the resources they were afforded.
It was Brionac who first proposed this plan. From the sword tethered with a sliver of Emeralda’s soul, the thief-turned-warrior-turned-ruler sought out the understanding of soul magic. It was a brand of magic never before thought possible until the thief-turned-king completed extensive, highly secret research over millennia. Where he once stole gold coins from the purse of the wealthy, Brionac was soon known by his new moniker – The Soul Reaver King. Even Escalion, the most celebrated King of Magic, could scarcely decipher the way Brionac cast his spells. The same was true for Venescara, who took on the title of King of the Abyss – even his corrupted, hellish magic could not replicate how Brionac manipulated souls.
Well, not without help, anyway. From the very person who spearheaded the new brand of dark, forbidden sorcery.
It did not take long for them to realize that the fourth dragon had hidden himself from mortal eyes; and to seek him out would be a fool’s folly. Brionac, who by now had complete mastery over the souls of mortals and Emeralda alike, taught the other two how to tame their own dragon. A mortal’s soul was weak, fragile, and easily manipulated with just a single drop of cosmic power. A dragon’s soul was anything but; and to even replicate the forging of Emeralda’s sword took a thousand years on its own. Cosmic dragon fire was the easiest to obtain – the three tormented dragons happily offered up their flames if it meant only a single minute without torment. Their blessings were, in the same way, coaxed from their lips. Scales taken from Rubius and Ambros eventually turned into magical swords of their own, and a very small fragment of the respective dragon’s soul was sealed inside it, just like the one that Emeralda had created. With that, the dragons were under the absolute commands of the mortals who had conquered them, broken in body, mind, and spirit.
After ten thousand years of trials, errors, and preparations, the three set out to bait the very last dragon to show. Each dragon was harnessed, and gagged to silence them; and on the back of each dragon rode their master – their captor, their owner. The command was given, and each dragon took flight in the sky from the moment the sun set, and flew across the ocean as their signature cosmic power pulsed and bursted from their bodies, sent into the ether and unknown corners of the world. It was Venescara who hypothesized that if all three dragons freely shedded their glorious powers as sheep shedding their wool in the summer, then perhaps, there is a chance that Saphira would take notice.
With the threat, of course, that this would be the very final night of freedom they would ever experience – so, as Escalion suggested, they should not waste the opportunity to enjoy the skies.
For the dragons, who had been endlessly tickled, tortured, edged, and subsequently milked for their seeds for ten thousand years, saw that this, too, was their one and only chance to be freed. They hoped that Saphira would have found a way to counter the spells and vile magic that kept them the mage’s pets. It was the final chapter in their stories, whether the mages emerged victorious or not.
Individually, they could not stand up to the might of Saphira. The cosmic dragon fire from his throat would easily disintegrate any matter, physical or magical. But with the knowledge of corrupted magic from Venescara, that was another story. Each of the three had in their arsenal the ability to nullify anything that Saphira could throw at them. The final piece of the puzzle was held in Escalion’s mind, of which he never shared with the other two. It was his trump card. Something that only he knew.
By the time Saphira approached the other three flying dragons, he realized that the reason why Emeralda, Rubius, and Ambros did not slow in their flight was to flee from him. To protect him. When he saw the three mortals who held a magical sword in each of their hands, he knew that there was no grounds for negotiation, and no time to reminisce until the villains had been defeated.
“DEFILERS! BLASPHEMERS!” Saphira roared, with cosmic power that charged his voice. His anger echoed across the surface of the planet. The dragon gathered all of his strength and released his fire – which burned so hot that the air that surrounded the trajectory instantly turned into a whirlwind of plasma, and so bright that the night sky, for a fleeting moment, became brighter than the light of day. He knew that his brothers would be unscathed, and so he put everything he had into the one breath that lit the atmosphere aflame.
Of the sixteen layers of stacked barriers that the mages had combined, only two remained. More accurately, only one remained intact, while the second layer crumbled away. It was much too close. They had repeatedly forced Emeralda to breathe cosmic dragon fire against practice targets, of which only seven barriers could be breached. Operating under extreme caution, the three decided to more than double the barriers in place in real combat. It was a wise decision. The results in the labs were, after all, not representative of live battle.
While Venescara and Brionac repaired the only protection that prevented them from being atomized, Escalion returned offensive spells of his own – using the corrupted mana that Venescara had demonstrated to be effective against dragons. Though he was well versed in battle, the high speed that the dragons flew at made it impossible for him to target Saphira with any of his spells. As soon as his magic materialized, Saphira sensed the corruption and dodged it with the swiftness of wind under his wings. The three mages saw a glint in the dragon’s maw – and prepared themselves for another blast of cosmic dragon fire that was equally as powerful as the first. Even through the barriers they felt the heat against their scalps. It would have taken less than a second to tear them apart on the molecular level if not for the layers upon layers of barriers that took the brunt of the hit. Then, a third breath, no less powerful than the first two – of which Venescara and Brionac only managed to defend against at the very last second.
Had Saphira pressed on his attack, there was a chance that he would breach the barriers; but out of his furious rage the dragon howled, and it was that several seconds that cost him the advantage that he had gained so far. They were once again on equal ground between the layers of protective magic and the flames that crushed them.
Flash after flash, the sky lit in lightning and flames. Saphira chased the mortals who trespassed against the territory of the dragon’s rule, and he did not let up. In his wrath, he did not notice that one of the three mages were not, in fact, preparing the defensive spells that protected them.
It was Escalion, who rode on top of Ambros, that knew he had to play his trump card now. Even with the source of infinite power they had stolen from the dragons he understood right away that the three of them would be at a vast disadvantage if they drew the battle out any further. The mage king wielded two ancient staves, one in each hand; both enchanted under the solar and lunar eclipse of thousands of years. He glared intently at Saphira and mumbled chants as rapidly as he could – of a spell that he spent just as much time crafting as his staves.
The space around them began to warp as the spell took form. Escalion chugged the bottles attached to the holster on his waist, filled with potions made of Ambros’ milk, distilled and concentrated until it was pure cosmic power. As soon as he finished one, the spell drained almost every last drop from his body, and he chugged another. Another blast of dragon fire, and this time it breached the very last barrier. They had no time left. Venescara looked to Brionac, and the thief king looked back. Their eyes met. It was one final gamble – win or die, this was the moment. From the range, they saw another glimmer from Saphira’s throat. It was now or never.
Each of them raised the magical sword in their hand, and channeled their own magical power as supply for Escalion’s spell. With the boost, it was barely just enough to finish fueling the longest, most complex enchantment that Escalion had ever conjured in his unending life. And then, the tides of battle turned.
The entire area that surrounded them cracked and shattered. There was a shift in gravity, in which rather than downwards, the dragons and the immortals were pulled from all sides at the same time. From the starry night sky came a warped field of coalescent nothingness. It was not a barrier, nor a prison, nor a place. It was merely a place – an empty place that seemed to extend to an infinite void. There was no light, no shadows, and no traces of the world of Gaia.
Escalion fell to the back of Ambros, who was no longer in flight. Venescara and Brionac merely marveled at the sight – and Saphira held off his attack only in amazement of what the insignificant, two-legged creature created.
“What in Mother Gaia’s name is this?!” The dragon growled. Saphira grew anxious once again. He no longer sensed the world that he was born in.
“Kill me, and you’ll never escape. None of us would.” Escalion choked and coughed. It took him every last ounce of energy just to speak, now that he was completely empty. He reached for another bottle with his shaky hands, and downed the contents. It was the last bottle, and neither Venescara nor Brionac had any left on them, either. The barriers they conjured drained them of all their supplies, too.
“What have you done, Escalion?” Brionac turned in every direction. Not that directions mattered – it was an endless void where nothing could be seen any way he looked.
“A last ditch effort is what.” Venescara reached out to feel the magic. It was corrupted, but there were also elements of soul magic and space magic involved. “Oh. Escalion, you’ve really outdone yourself. You’ve trapped us in a corrupted pocket dimension hosted in your very own soul. Well done, Escalion, well done. Surely, neither Me nor Brionac would be able to break out of here on our own. You have never shared the secrets of your space magic.”
“Just how much do you intend on defiling the natural laws?” Saphira’s eyes gleamed as blue as his name. He was ready to turn the three villains into ash, even if what they said was true.
“Calm yourself, Saphira.” Escalion replied. “If I die, my soul vanishes, and this pocket dimension vanishes with it. You will drift in the empty void for eternity.”
“And I suspect that should anyone try to temper with your spell, the dimension would collapse upon itself, crushing everything in it into a single point of existence.” Brionac lowered his weapon and sheathed it. The thief king laughed heartily. “So your choice, Lord Saphira – all of our fates – is to drift for eternity in an endless void, or to spend eternity crushed in a prison smaller than the breadth of a single strand of hair. Unless, of course, Escalion so chooses to release us from this place.”
Saphira struggled internally. His decision was not whether to kill Escalion, Venescara, or Brionac – but the fact that if he did so, he would not only doom the four dragons, but also the world to a most pitiable, destitute end. If he did not, though, he would be the one held captive – the same as the defeated dragons that he saw before him now.
“Release my brothers.” Saphira demanded.
“Very well.” Escalion waved his hand and released the spells that bound Ambros in the cursed equipment. The yellow dragon cried and ran – no – willed himself towards Saphira. No. Behind Saphira. In fear.
“Escalion!” Venescara whispered, as if Escalion had done something he shouldn’t have.
“What’s the harm? Nobody can break out of this place – the dragons, least of all. You should know this, Venescara.” Escalion said calmly. Pretentiously calm. He put on an act of courage and confidence that he did not have. “The dragons are fundamentally incompatible with corrupted mana. It was you who discovered that fact. I merely weaved it into this dimension – so that no matter how much power the dragons unleash, they will not break the bounds of this place. They could, of course, burn me with their cosmic dragon fire, but they will be trapped for all eternity.”
“You believe that guarantees your safety?” Saphira gritted his teeth and glared at the other two, who saw reason and an intention behind Escalion’s calmness, and followed suit. Soon enough, both Rubius and Emeralda were similarly freed from their bondage, and were finally reunited with Saphira.
“You..!” Rubius’s flames reignited when he tasted his temporary freedom. “Escalion aside, explain why I should not tear you limb from limb from this moment, Venescara! Or you, Brionac!”
Venescara merely crossed his arms confidently and smirked. The palm of his hand touched the decorative ruby on the hilt of his sword by his waist, and the dragon felt a jolt of electricity run through his body, as if he was struck by lightning. Rubius growled and backed off, but remained on alert.
“Even if I wanted to free all of us right now, I couldn’t.” Escalion interrupted. “I’m running on empty. A spell of this size took a thousand years to prepare for, and it’ll take another thousand years to cast again. More, actually, since nothing else exists in this dimension. We’ll need to start from zero. Of course, now that Ambros is freed from my hand, I don’t suppose I’ll live that long without a constant source of.. Heh, your milk. Do you care to volunteer, Saphira? Or should I return to Ambros for his flavor?”
“You shall not lay your hands on my brothers again!” Saphira stepped up and spread his wings protectively. “If we must be trapped here, then so be it. A small sacrifice to keep your wickedness from the world!“
Saphira steeled his nerves, then summoned his strength and exhaled – only to find that the cosmic dragon fire that he was so dependent on was no longer within his reach. The power swelled in his chest, but it would not circulate in his body, nor could the cosmic power be drawn as his strength.
“..Yeesh. A thousand years to prepare, and it still barely made it in time.” Venescara exhaled shakily. It wasn’t until just now that he realized what Escalion had done. “Just like how you’ve not once arrived on time for our meetings, Escalion.”
“What have you done to me?!” Saphira shouted. He tried again, only to find that all of his divine gifts were no longer available to him.
“This pocket dimension. It’s made of corrupt magic, remember? We just went over this.” Escalion finally relaxed his posture. Now that the dragons were once again made powerless, they were seen as little more than titanic, intelligent beasts. “The moment my spell completed, Saphira – we won. You had but the one chance to destroy us. Now that you’ve squandered your precious opportunity, Saphira, allow me to show you how your cosmic powers should really, truly be used!”
—
It was a plan that even the other three dragons did not know, nor could they begin to guess at.
The three mages held onto the hilt of their magically forged swords, gem in palm, and poured a small amount of recovered mana into it. At once, the three dragons that had once been under their thumb felt as if a jolt of electricity ran through their minds; muddied them, and their bodies began to act not to their wishes, but to the mages.
Titanic as he may be, when up against three dragons of the same stature, even Saphira could not defend himself. The last dragon struggled in horror as his brethren, who he thought had been freed, began to subdue him as if they were the mage’s henchmen.
“Cease! What are you doing?! What is the meaning of this?! Release me!” Saphira cried as the three dragons, equal to his stature, held him down.
“Soul magic.” Brionac rubbed his palm against the enchanted gem upon the hilt of his sword. “As it turns out, when part of one’s soul is enchanted into an object, they fall under the command of whoever holds it. Humans, elves, dwarves – even dragons. When you can puppeteer even dragons – well, suddenly your draconic divinity doesn’t seem so divine, does it?”
Fear struck Saphira’s heart. He was not aware of what the short-lived creatures were capable of, or how they’ve evolved. Lies. Deceit. Everything had gone according to the mage’s plans from the very moment he was lured out of the sea. Every word they spoke was false, until the very moment of his capture. He finally realized that these three were willing to do anything, say anything, and commit any sin to achieve their goal. They had even veiled their intentions from the other three dragons – Emeralda, Rubius, and Ambros – and used them to the very last drop, which was the only route that led to this moment in time.
“And speaking of divinity, you are the final piece of the puzzle.” Escalion spoke calmly. “We each hold one dragon, and yet for ten thousand years made little progress until we united. Now all four dragons are gathered. From you we shall extract your essence – and oh, Saphira, we have gotten very, very good at extracting the cosmic power from dragons. If you do not resist, you might even find it enjoyable, as your brothers have.”
He nodded towards the other three dragons, who let slip slight moans from their throats. They longed for freedom, but could not deny the pleasures of the flesh that being conquered had bought them. From the corner of Saphira’s eyes, he saw the new appendage from between their legs – grown, erect, and stood at full attention at the mage’s simple spoken words.
“Blasphemers..! Filth! Blood traitors of Gaia! You ingrates! You narcissists!” Saphira hissed. Emeralda’s hand wrapped around his maw; commanded by Brionac to silence the newly caught, defiant dragon.
“It matters not, Saphira. We know now that you are not true gods. You will break and surrender in due time – and we have all the time in the world.” Venescara touched the insides of his wrist together, and bound Saphira with engravings of runes over his scales. The runes sapped the dragon’s strength, until he could no longer move, even when the other three dragons had been commanded to back off. A quick flash of the flow of mana revealed that the other three also had similar runes engraved over their bodies, as if the spell that bound their souls were not enough.
“Now, let us show Saphira just how much our trained pets have learned to love the fun that we’ve taught them.”
There was nothing Saphira could do but watch in horror as, even when the mages released their control over the enchanted gems, the other dragons obediently got into their trained position. If he didn’t see it with his own eyes he would never believe that Ambros so willingly – so eagerly – shrunk down to the human’s preferred size, and allowed the mage to bind him in a tight suit of latex, with none of the brilliance of his amber radiance showing through the scale-hugging, dark-as-night, fit and tailored suit. Every part of Ambros’ body was covered, save the dragon’s feet and, naturally, the appendage that Saphira did not have – Ambros’ incredibly sensitive and erect cock.
Saphira’s maw was soon sealed shut by one of the mage’s spells, fueled by the corrupted magic that coursed through them; and in turn he was reduced to a silent observer, no longer able to object or decry the treatment that the small creatures had in store for the three dragons. He screamed into it when he saw how obediently Ambros spread his legs apart and allowed his human Master to tame the burning desire there. How the dragon offered up his soles for the human to lick and suckle on. Even when the suit hardened and turned Ambros into a living statue for the human’s viewing pleasure, the dragon only responded with loud, lewd moans that betrayed any shreds of dignity he had ever had. He powerlessly watched as the human mage retrieved one item after another, from a magic bag of holding, that added to the helplessness of the – the thing that was once Ambros, the great dragon of the deserts.
The more Ambros’ identity, power, and agency was stripped from him, the harder his cock became; and the more of his infinite cosmic power leaked from the tip of it in the form of sticky, silvery-white milk. Endlessly tormented. Endlessly kissed. The dragon’s handsome face was hidden behind a hood that robbed him of sight, sound, and smells. That was not enough for the human Master of the dragon, who wrapped a harness over the dragon’s head; though the dragon submitted and refused to move, the human added chains that bound Ambros’ arms behind his back, belts that bound the dragon’s wings together, and a hook that attached Ambros’ tail to the nape of his neck. His soles were on full display as the human switched between his indulgences – to lick against the dragon’s soles and to tickle them with torturous magic; spells that conjured and controlled uncountable amounts of feathers and brushes that teased and raked the entire length of that dragon’s sole. Though he did not move, Ambros howled with laughter, even with the gag that was present in his mouth under the latex hood. Still as a statue, still as stone. The dragon was reduced to nothing more than a fancier version of a music box of laughter, his existence erased from the world, only to serve as Escalion’s tickle tortured pet. As a finishing touch, the human clicked an enchanted cage over Ambros’ cock, which locked it in place and prevented Ambros from his sweet release.
“There, there. My pet. All snug and comfortable now, are you?” Escalion chuckled as he petted the dragon’s head. He gave the dragon’s soles another kiss, and then a teasing stroke on the dragon’s trapped cock. The cry of pleasure told him all he needed to know. “Let’s see. We’ll start you off with a hundred years.”
Ambros moaned in protest.
”I know, I know. That’s not nearly enough to satisfy you, hmm? How long do you want this time? Five hundred? A thousand? You’re really hard to please, Ambros. A thousand years, then. A thousand years trapped as a statue, tickled on your gorgeous soles for your milk.”
A thousand years. The way that Ambros cooed happily made Saphira shudder. He turned his eyes away.
There was Rubius, who was shown a different treatment from his halfling Master, Venescara. Like Ambros, the great dragon became the size of Venescara’s lover, and from where he was stationed Saphira witnessed Rubius’ defeat. Though the clarity of his anger earlier was real, so was the passion with which he kissed against Venescara’s lips. The red dragon, who took an androgynous form of a thin and frail half-dragonling, moaned with deep pleasure as his lips met the halfling’s again and again. The dragon whispered words that begged Venescara for forgiveness, for the harshness of his trespasses when he was temporarily released from his leash. The halfling villain stroked the dragon’s cheek with the back of his hand, and grinned with a wicked smile that told Rubius the thing that he already knew.
“If you wish for forgiveness, then earn it, pet.” The halfling said. “You know how I like it.”
The dragon kneeled before the halfling and tore down the mage’s pants, and with ardent greed he began to lap and suck on Venescara’s cock with a hungry maw. Rubius used his entire tongue to stroke the shaft and the head of the halfling’s most sensitive spots, the spots that he knew reacted best to the dragon’s touches, and he swallowed the entire length of it all the way down, until the head of Venescara’s cock smashed against the back of his throat. Rubius gurgled and choked loudly, just the way Venescara liked it. He held nothing back, until he felt the halfling’s hands grab the back of his head and pulled it back. He looked upward with puppy eyes - -the halfling hadn’t released yet.
“Please, Master.” Rubius begged. “I need your seed, just as I offer you mine freely. Fill me..!”
“I said – you know how I like you.” The halfling repeated once more. His cheeks flushed. He had trained Rubius well. The dragon was so good at what he did that Venescara almost spilled his load right then and there; but that wasn’t what he wanted. That wasn’t his favorite part. Not Rubius’ mouth. The halfling pointed.
“..Yes, Master Venescara.” Rubius moaned and sat on his rump. He lifted his legs upwards and offered up his soles for the halfling.
“What else, my love?” Venescara demanded. “Say it loudly so Saphira can witness it. If you want that slutty dragon ass to be filled later, you know what you must do.”
“Aah..!” Rubius moaned and felt his cock pulse and twitch. The humiliation only added to the excitement and arousal. The dragon flexed his toes. His attention was instantly shifted to how sensitive his feet had become – over the many years of being the subject of Venescara’s array of softening cream and sensitizing lotions. They had become just as, if not more sensitive than his ass or his genitals. “..Master..! F-fuck my soles..!”
Venescara held Rubius’ left foot in his hand, and rubbed his hot cock against it. The warmth of the halfling’s shaft pressed against the dragon’s soft, tenderized arches, and Rubius whimpered with excited pleasure. Unlike Escalion, Venesacara didn’t care to edge his lover. The halfling much preferred to milk every last drop of it from the dragon’s groin; and so he magically modified the dragon’s physical form until just about every sensation of pleasure made Rubius a raging, rock hard goon. The dragon’s pink soles were beautiful to the halfling’s sight and the lewd, slutty noises from the dragon’s throat was music to his ears. The more he grinded his cock over the dragon’s sole, the more aroused Rubius became – and it was apparent even to Saphira when Rubius began to touch himself.
“G-gah!” Rubius choked. His mind was a battlefield – between the strokes that bought him intense pleasure and the desire to extend how long it lasted. One hand couldn’t stop touching his own sensitive cock, while the fingers on the other were eager to explore his own asshole. His arms jerked jankily as his mind tried to stop himself from finishing too early. He sought the high of orgasm, but the journey towards that experience was in itself equally temptatious. Rubius’ eyes rolled back in his skull, and his body shook from the waves of sensation that rocked him upside down.
“Don’t stop, my love.” Venescara commanded as he put both of the dragon’s soles together and thrusted between them. “Don’t stop touching yourself. Don’t you dare deny me my pleasure, either – let me watch you. Let me see all of you. All of it.”
Rubius gulped, then began to freely stroke himself as he toyed with his asshole. His fingers found the most pleasurable spot there, and as he rubbed his prostate and palmed the head of his cock the dragon let his tongue lull from his maw and cry out the name of his halfling Master. Venescara thrusted between the sensitive soles more intently as Rubius wiggled and spread his toes for the halfling.
“..Now spill your seed, my love. Waste them. Waste all that cosmic power for me.” The halfling said with a smirk on his face. The dragon obliged. Rubius stroked himself faster, the fingers in his ass pressed against the spot until his milk flowed from the tip of his cock. He continued to stroke. His body became most sensitive – especially his soles, where he felt every last thrust from the halfling’s cock. It was the way his foot flesh was used like a sex toy that turned him on the most. Even though his milk had already splattered over his stomach and chest, the dragon’s cock was not yet satisfied.
“M-master..! Aah.. aah!” The dragon’s moans were unfiltered, not held back by the modesty that he abandoned long ago. Even when he rode on the high of orgasm the dragon still sought for more from that halfling that adored him, loved him for the filthy, perverse, foot-fuck addict that he was. He spread his toes again, as far as he could manage, for the viewing pleasure of his Master. “F-fuck them harder. Fuck my soles. My – my horny dragon soles! ..Please..please! Oh yes, yes..!”
“Such a perfect fuck hole. Such an obedient pet.” Venescara rammed his hips against the dragon’s soles. He felt the twitches in the dragon’s arches and the way the dragon’s toes fray and spread. The undeniable tremors in the dragon’s legs. He loved it when Rubius let loose, when his mind was empty of all but the physical pleasures of the flesh between the two. He couldn’t get enough of it. He, too, was as addicted to Rubius as Rubius was addicted to him.
“Paint my soles.. Paint my soles!” The dragon cried as he came for a second time. He needed to feel the hot seed plastered against the skin of his feet. “Cum on my feet. Master, cum on my feet – hng – I need your cum on my feet!”
With his feet together and his toes spread, the dragon was ready to catch the halfling’s milk. Venescara thrusted several more times before he withdrew his hips, then he held his cock in his hand and gave it a good pump. As the heat of his spunk splattered against Rubius’ soles, the dragon visibly shook as a third orgasm followed immediately after his second. Rubius roared and clenched his toes together as he felt the halfling’s milk squelch between them. He rubbed his feet together and spread it all over, even as the fluid flowed down his legs. At last, he was satisfied, and he opened his arms and demanded for his Master to reward him with cuddles – for being such a good boy. Venescara obliged, and the two embraced in kisses as passionately as when they started.
Saphira could not even begin to imagine how broken Rubius’ mind must have been to be so corrupted, to disregard his charge from Mother Gaia, and to sink so low that the dragon willingly became the halfling’s plaything-slash-lover for the meager and cheap thrill of the flesh.
The crestfallen dragon turned away from the unbearable sight of Rubius and looked to Emeralda, the eldest and the leader of their species, for whatever hope that he could cling on to. Soon Saphira would learn the same thing that the other dragons had already experienced with their very own bodies – that hope was a luxury no longer affordable to them.
The solemn, dignified dragon that Saphira had always placed on a pedestal was not there, replaced by a doppelganger that wore his face and his scales. The sight of it chilled Saphira’s spirit to the core.
How? How could Emeralda be like this? Where was the wise dragon who commanded the heavens and the earth with the boom of his voice? Where was the firstborn, with the blessings of Gaia, who brought forth all life to the world? Where was the leader, the king, the divine dragon?
Like Ambros and Rubius, Emeralda took a form that was half way between his elven disguise and his true dragon body. He was no less intoxicated by Brionac’s lavish attention, having adapted – no – twisted – into the writhing, giggly thing that he was now.
Much like Rubius, who offered up his soles to be fucked like cheap whores, Emeralda could not help but beg his Master to be crueler with the tickling on his feet. The dragon dutifully bound himself with conjured vines that zapped his strength, which was the way he liked to be when he was at the mercy of the thief king’s tickle parade. The magic pouch on his waist was filled with the tools that Emeralda had grown to love. At first they were made of wood, steel, and stone – but soon that proved fragile as wet paper when used against the tickle-starved dragon’s large, taut soles.
Among his favorite tools was the foot file, which kept those dragon soles softer than anything else in the entire world. Brionac would make time every single week, come hell or high water, to personally attend Emeralda’s foot pampering session. The amount of lotion and oils he had spent on those dragon soles was a fortune unto itself; the gold coins alone would be enough to buy a small kingdom and let everyone who lived in it spoil in luxury for generations. It was still a trivial amount compared to the true treasure that he owned – Emeralda’s feet, after all, deserved the very best that the world had to offer.
Free from blemish, that foot file kept the dragon’s feet void of calluses or hard skin, and the abundant treatments guaranteed its sensitivity. Yes, Emeralda protested when he was trapped in the world tree, with only his head and soles exposed. For the first several hundred years, the cries of complaint were endless – but then one day, something completed the circuit in his brain, and the complaints waned. They turned into indulgent laughter as the dragon’s mind and sanity fled from him, who now experienced the intense, merciless tickling as the one and only form of pleasure. His cock was milked, as were the others, but nothing bought Emeralda more pleasure and joy than when his soles were bound, tied, made helpless, and taken advantage of by the man who owned him body and soul.
Even centuries later, hidden inside the depths of Brionac’s castle, Emeralda demanded to be kept bound and helpless in ways that pushed the thief king to the very cliff of his creative thinking.
There were the hundred years where Emeralda spent completely encased as part of the dungeon’s walls, where only his soles were left unburied under the tons of stones and bricks that hid his body. Those hundred years was when rumors of phantoms haunted the undercarriages of the castle spread like wildfire. When that wasn’t enough, Emeralda demanded his toes be spread and bound, demanded to be made even more helpless than Brionac thought possible. Demanded to be Brionac’s trophy. Demanded to be called as such when spoken to. When Brionac visited and whispered to those soles trapped in the wall, tickled and licked them, and spoke vile, degrading things to them. Suggested that the dragons be kept that way for good.
Emeralda loved every second of it, and dreaded the daytime when Brionac had to take care of his personal affairs. Every moment that his soles weren’t tormented was a moment of eternity wasted.
Then there was the century that Emeralda’s sole served as Brionac’s bed in his most private chamber.
With some minor space magic he learned from Escalion, Brionac detached the dragon’s sole and allowed the dragon to revert it to its original size. The sole itself was larger than both of them from heel to toe, and Emeralda demanded for it to be used as a bed. Demanded to be mummified and placed on it. Brionac could only oblige. Once bound, the dragon’s snout was placed between his own toes. Every breath was filled with the scent of his sweaty, musky toes. Emeralda moaned, and demanded for the thief king to begin the tickling – with both of them making sweet love on the bed of the dragon’s sole.
That, too, was not enough to satisfy the dragon’s tickle lust.
And so machines were built to pry the dragon’s toes apart, activated to scrub between each of his digits from sunrise to sunset. When night fell, it was time for the machines to spin and rotate feathers and brushes against the pads of the dragon’s toes while the helplessly bound dragon squirmed and screamed in Brionac’s embrace. All that the thief king had to do was turn on his stomach and he could freely taste between the dragon’s tickled toes, and as he thrusted against the arches and insteps his cock pushed into the softest foot flesh in all the realms. Emeralda, too, demanded his cock to be freed so that he may sample and indulge in the softness and helplessness of his sole being casually fucked, and feel his own seed spill on it.
By the time Saphira had been captured, Emeralda was a shell of his former self. Less than a shell, really. The dragon who had lived among the mortal creatures, who had already been persuaded to learn, to live, and to breathe their cultural ways was more human, more elf, and more mortal than he was dragon. He indulged in alcohol, in ecstasy, and now in the forbidden pleasures of his flesh, and the flesh of his Master.
“Come on, Brio. Tickle me already.” Emeralda whined as his toes wiggled in the human’s face. The dragon gasped when he felt the human’s hand on the soles, and then turned bratty when he realized it wasn’t to run the tip of those fingers against his arches. “Bri-oooh! Did you bring my toys?”
“So demanding..! Ugh..!” The human quickly ruffled through his pouch for the shackles and blindfolds, to which he handed to the dragon. “Do it yourself. You’re such a tickle slut.”
The meager gears weren’t enough to make Emeralda happy, but it was better than nothing. When Brionac began with his tongue against the dragon’s toes and his fingers prodded and screwed between those digits, the dragon cooed with giggles. When Brionac scratched along those dragon soles with his nails, Emeralda bursted out in jets of laughter. Then, the brushes made of mithril and adamantium came into play, and Emeralda let himself loose with roars of laughter so loud that it made Ambros and Rubius jealous of the attention paid to his feet.
Like Venesacara, Brionac was more into watching the dragon mess himself, and so as he tickled the dragon’s soles, he began to stroke the shaft of Emeralda’s cock, while he licked the tip of the head. It didn’t take the dragon long before he released the creamy pre that filled Brionac’s mouth. The harder the dragon was tickled, the more he leaked, until Brionac furiously stroked the orgasm out of him without warning. Not a single drop of Emeralda’s milk was wasted. With renewed vigor, Brionac continued – and he would do it with a sly grin on his face. He knew Saphira was watching, and he understood from the blue dragon’s expression just how scared he was.
Good.
He should be.
Saphira shuddered when their eyes met. The dragon jumped when he felt someone touch his foot. His whole body jerked and he yelped.
“Calm down, brother.” It was Rubius, whose attitude had turned so quickly from that of the defiant dragon, with fire still in his chest, not that long ago. “This isn’t as bad as you’d think. In fact, you might even find pleasure in it – after all, you’ve been all cold and alone in the depths of the sea for ten thousand years, haven’t you?”
“Don’t you – aah.. – seek the warmth of another’s touch?” Emeralda moaned between his giggles and laughter.
“..No!” Saphira mustered all of his strength to deny the accusation.
“Then.. you will learn, as Ambros, Rubius, and Emeralda did.” Brionac chuckled. All three mages did. They grasped the sword hilt in their hand, and used it as a conduit of the dragon’s cosmic powers. The intricate spell they weaved changed the titanic dragon’s form to match the smaller, much more vulnerable, half-dragonling form that the other three took. The sapphire blue of his scales still shined through, and all three mages knew they all wanted a taste of the new dragon. Especially when his new cock seemed so inviting as it already stood erect from the rush of the dragon’s hormones.
“My love. Why don’t you begin by showing Saphira the pleasures that you’ve learned?” Venescara kissed Rubius on the lips, and pointed.
“Yes, Emeralda – you, too.” Brionac stopped the scrubbing of the dragon’s sole, and as Emeralda removed his blindfolds, the dragon saw his Master had handed him his favorite brush.
Both Rubius and Emeralda understood what they must do.
Saphira was still not used to his new body, and with the runes so freshly engraved upon him, he didn’t need any tools or gears to be overpowered. All that Emeralda and Rubius needed to do was to grasp Saphira’s wrists and ankles firmly in their strong hands, and Saphira was at their total mercy.
Not that they had any to spare. No. Their minds had already been too warped to even recall the very concept of it.
“Brothers! Please! Let me go!” Saphira begged. “Don’t listen to the mortals! Don’t listen to them! I am your kin!”
“And kin we shall remain.” Rubius licked his lips, and brought one of Saphira’s soles to his mouth. His hot tongue ran between each of the blue dragon’s toes as he wormed the muscle between the spread digits. Rubius moaned when the salty scent of the sea filled his greedy, watering mouth. Even without any pampering routine, Saphira’s sole was plenty soft – and extremely delectable to taste. The dragon continued to lick while Saphira cried out to protest, only for his pleas to be ignored. Licks turned into kisses, followed by the suckling of his toes. Even when the blue dragon clenched those digits closed, Rubius still found a way to force them open again, and he continued to slurp against the arches that filled his mouth with a delicious taste.
While his tongue was busy with Saphira’s sole, his own feet sought out their target – Saphira’s cock. It was only semi hard, but that was more than enough to work with. Rubius skillfully wrapped his soles around the blue dragon’s shaft, and began to pump it with expertise. He did, to be fair, have ten thousand years of practice for it. That skill was unmatched by Saphira’s defenseless cock, which grew harder and more aroused by the second. The new sensation flooded Saphira’s mind, as if a church bell had rung next to his head. It was too much for him to bear. The intense pleasure from Rubius’ soles made Saphira let slip the very first sexual moan from his throat. Saphira blushed.
“It’s time you learned of the pleasures Brionac had taught me, too.” Emeralda said gleefully as he grasped Saphira’s other foot in one hand, and the brush in the other. Without further discussion, the green dragon began to cruelly rake the brush up and down the shaking dragon’s sole.
“WAH?! WAH HAH HAH HAH HAHHH!! EME–EERR – RAAHH HAH HAH DAAH!!!” Saphira exploded in laughter the moment that brush made contact with his sole. Between the lickles and kisses, Rubius’ soles on his shaft, and Emeralda’s evil brush, Saphira’s mind was instantly overwhelmed with the multitude of sensations that rushed into his brain, like a broken dam that couldn’t hold back a great flood. Saphira saw stars and couldn’t even form a single coherent thought in that silly dragon head. All that he knew was that he was in so much trouble.
And that, in the very recesses of his mind, he was somewhat grateful that Ambros had been turned into Escalion’s living statue. He would surely not be able to handle it if all three of the other dragons worked over him at the same time.
That was, of course, until Escalion took the initiative for Ambros to join.
The space magic that Escalion excelled at was once again invoked, and Ambros’ caged cock was modularly detached from his pelvis the same way it had been many times before.
“Shh. My pet. I know you can hear – and you want to join in.”
Ambros squeaked from his throat. Escalion smiled. “And because I’m so magnanimous, I shall allow it.. For now.”
The human did not intrude on the dragon’s fun time with Saphira, and instead ventured into the mix where he could – between Saphira’s legs, where his asshole was prominently on display with both of his legs held up. He poured a small vial of oil over the twitchy cock to lubricate it, and then gently inserted the hot, needy shaft into Saphira’s ass. He pushed until he heard the moans from Ambros, too, that let him know it was now the perfect spot to keep that caged cock, at least, for the time being.
With Ambros’ cock pressed against his prostate, Saphira felt dizzy with the magnitude of pleasure that washed over him like a tsunami against a tiny raft.
His soles were being slurped on and tickled.
His cock was pumped.
His ass was filled.
The seeds of sexual desires were planted in the dragon, and it took no time to grow and take root in the cracked psyche in his head.
He would learn to love it, eventually. Crave it, even. Beg for it, he would. Soon enough, anyway. It might take several hundred years, but then again, even ten thousand years is but the blink of an eye in the ruined lives of the immortal dragons and their Masters.
=The end=
