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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Fantasy · #1856570
Female adventurers discover a glittering, golden hoard... of calories.
This choice: Scales. Mariska was a dragon?!  •  Go Back...
Chapter #3

How To Drain Your Dragon

    by: DrywallDryad Author IconMail Icon
Morissa's fangs glanced off the wall of overlapping golden scales. Hissing in surprise, she recoiled from the great wyrm uncoiling itself in front of her, ripping off the last shreds of the peasant's simple clothes.

"What an annoyance," the dragon said in a voice like magma and honey stirred together. "I do so hate to have my little incognito excursions interrupted."

She had unwrapped herself fully now, filling the front hall of Morissa's castle, one massive coil smashing the long oak table where a few moments earlier a hungry vampire had been wining and dining her "unsuspecting" conquest. The beast was immense. Morissa attempted to back up, only to find herself blocked by one leathery wing the size of a galleon's mainsail.

"Leave me, dragon!" Morissa snarled, snatching up the wand and aiming it at the scaly face. The dragon laughed, plucked up the wand as one might pluck a toothpick, and snapped it in half. If it had been possible for Morissa to turned any paler, she would have done so.

"Th-this has obviously been a misunderstanding," she stammered. "Leave now, and I'll spare you!"

"Spare me your empty threats, if you're going to spare me anything. I can't stand you little gnats, running around, turning perfectly tasty humans into more of you." The dragon blew a blast of superheated air into Morissa's face. "I believe I'll take this castle for the trouble."

"But -- but I'm sure you don't want my castle," Morissa said hastily. "It's too small for a creature of your magnificent bulk--"

The dragon kicked out one of the walls. Morissa heard the crunch and snap of her skeletal servants being crushed into powder by the collapse of a good portion of the east wing.

"Now, little vampire, I believe you were about to have a little nip from me?" the dragon asked jovially.

"No -- no, of course not --"

The dragon chuckle. "Now, don't be shy. Come! Drink your fill!"

One huge claw seized Morissa and shoved her face-first into the dragon's flank, forcing her down until her fangs burst painfully through the scales. Suddenly, hot dragon blood flowed into Morissa's throat. It was like drinking liquid fire, and yet somehow, underneath it all, there were rich tones and subtle flavors as well. It poured into Morissa's belly like white-hot rubies.

"Glmp!" she said, fighting the claw. "Glmph! Mmph!" High-pressure jets of blood forced themselves into her faster than she could guzzle them down, leaking out around her lips and dribbling to the floor, where they smoked and steamed on the ancient tile. Her stomach was growing full and taut, and yet she knew she hadn't yet tasted one thousandth of all the blood in the wyrm's monstrous body.

Just when she was resigning herself to drinking until she burst, the dragon yanked her off again and set her back down roughly. She wobbled, feeling her innards slosh uncomfortably. She was bloated to the point of repletion, flushed tomato-red, full as a tick.

"How did you like your snack?" the dragon asked. Morissa belched wetly through charred, cracked lips.

"Good. Now, here is what happens next--"
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