The inside of the tower was a long, winding staircase, some ten-odd storeys tall. Plenty of time for me to comprehend what kind of “torture” the Princess had been subjected to in my dreams the last few nights—no wonder they’d made me so horny.

Remembering those dreams now with a vivid image of the assailant didn’t help me calm down. The glimpses of her legs, her robe silhouetting her juicy bum, as she climbed the stairs.

Even before we reached the top, I certainly felt tortured, my knickers definitely needing a change, my heavy breathing nothing to do with the climb.

At the top, there was a door. It wasn’t locked, opening with a push from her, revealing a fairly luxurious room beyond. The floors and walls were grey stone, but covered in rugs and tapestries and paintings, plenty of colour, lit by broad windows with wooden shutters, no glass in them. For night time, there were plenty of sconces or braziers or whatever those old wall torch-holders were called. A huge fire pit as well, sunken a step with a railing around it and chimney above—it would’ve been perfectly at place in a fancy, modern house.

The furniture looked amazing too. A four-poster bed, those ones with a canopy and curtains around it, and it was easily king-sized, littered with cushions and pillows. Two couches were around the fire pit, upholstered in velvet and embroidered with flowery flowers, and there were a pair of similar armchairs by a small table and bookcase, full of old books. A bigger table with dining chairs was by the bed, a bottle of wine and a half-melted candle in the middle.

Although there wasn’t a consistent colour theme, the fabric on the furniture was all violet, bright purple with a noticeable touch of blue. A great colour for velvet. Other than that, the detailing was all gold—very suitable for both dragons and royalty.

The room didn’t take up the entire floor, some side doors. Even princesses needed a toilet. Probably, a larder too, maybe a treasury.

Speaking of princesses, there was one in the middle of the room. Tall and a bit skinny, her cheeks gaunt, long blonde hair braided in three thick strands, tied at the end with a bow. The pale pink dress shouldn’t have worked with her fair complexion, but her cheeks were stained with blush, matching. Even from across half the room, her eyes were bright and green, like emeralds.

“Pray tell this one thee did not bring that bitch back for thy supper,” the Princess said, nose scrunched up, arms crossed.

The dragon chuckled, smoke rising. “She is rather queer and may make for a fun toy. Still, no need to heed my feelings, do with her as you wish.” As she finished, she pushed me forwards.

I stumbled a few steps closer to the Princess, then stood at attention again, unsure how to look fun to toy with.

The Princess kept an almost disgusted expression, looking down her nose at me as she walked over for an inspection. Like the dragon had, she circled me, piercing me with a stern gaze.

“Does the bitch know any tricks?” the Princess asked.

“I can lick,” I blurted out, too eager to please.

The Princess stilled for a moment, then looked at me with a growing smile. “Oh my, queer indeed,” she murmured.

I shivered, something about her tone scaring me in the most erotic way.

In elegant strides, she crossed over to the armchairs and sat in one, then looked at me. Raising her hand, she beckoned me. I obeyed. Crossing her legs, her one foot rested in the air. She looked down at it, so I did too.

“Remove this one’s slipper,” she said, so I did.

Sliding it off, her beautiful foot was left bare before me. Thin and fragile and bony. Even before she told me, I knew what was coming.

“Lick.”

I didn’t hesitate, brushing my hair behind my ear as I leaned down. A foot fetish was something I had never understood. Now, I still didn’t get it, but my submission fetish was growing exponentially. A beautiful woman demeaning me, yet letting me touch her. Something about that stirred me up.

And she was beautiful, a short look all I’d needed to tell. Model beautiful. Tall, slim, and confident. I didn’t find her as sexy as the dragon, but she ticked all my boxes when it came to treating me like dirt.

No clue what exactly to do, I tried to lick her in a sexy way, starting on her toe and slowly going up to her shin. The taste wasn’t horrible, just sweat. I kind of liked it, reminding me of my juices, soon salivating at the thought she might ask me to lick somewhere higher.

“What a slobbery bitch,” she said, harsh tone tingling from my ears down to my gut.

I swallowed the spit in my mouth, careful not to wet her so much with my licks.

“Oh my, how clever—the bitch can learn.”

After being bullied, her praise felt sweeter. It didn’t make me tingle, but a rush of pride filled me, warm and fuzzy.

She left me to lick her foot for a while longer, then said, “Stop,” and wiped her foot on my pyjamas.

Rather than give me her other foot, she crossed her legs at the ankles and beckoned me again. I carefully shuffled closer.

“What else can that mouth do?” she said, pressing a finger to my lips.

I offered no resistance, let her slide it in. After a moment, I realised what she’d said and started swirling my tongue around her finger, gently sucking. She didn’t praise me, but didn’t scold me either.

I’d cleaned my own fingers countless times, but this was something different. The more I got into it, the more my mouth moved on its own, sucking her finger in deeper and then letting it slide out. I’d never even thought about sucking dick before, but I imagined this was what it was like. Like I was sucking her dick.

My mind blanked at that thought, a rush of intense heat rolling through me. I’d fantasised about being fucked with a strap-on a lot. Now, I closed my eyes and imagined I was on my knees in front of her, her “dick” in my mouth.

I moaned, thighs clenching together. Spit dribbled out my lips, squelching as I sucked her, like I was fucking her with my horny mouth.

“Thee really is a slobbery bitch,” she said, this time amusement in her voice.

I took it as a compliment.

Slowly, she pulled back her finger and I followed, reluctant to let go, until I couldn’t lean forwards any more, her knee in the way. “Pray try her mouth. At the least, thee shall be slick for this one’s snatch.”

I was confused for a moment, then realised she wasn’t looking at me, and there was only one other person here. Heart pounding, I turned around.

The dragon stood very close to me. I hadn’t heard her approach, but I had been distracted and she was barefooted on rugs. That simple robe she’d worn she wore no more, falling to the ground, revealing her.

Sure enough, she had a curvy figure. Not quite as chubby as I’d hoped, but cuddly, her chest huge and firm, barely sagging.

However, something else caught my eye and she caught me staring.

“I am a shape-shifter, is such a thing so surprising?” she asked, heavily emphasising “thing”.

What looked like a dick stuck out of her crotch. It was mesmerising, the unnatural colour and texture making me see it as a dildo—a textured dildo attached to a gorgeous woman. A dildo she was about to stick in my mouth.

I licked my lips and, like that was her cue, she stepped forwards, bringing the tip right in front of my eyes. There was a hole at the tip, something dribbling out. I instinctively licked it, curious, then frowned, the taste bitter and almost familiar.

She chuckled. “It is simply something like mucus mixed with excretions from my scent glands, which my pet rather enjoys.”

My stomach turned at the mention of mucus, but the lingering taste really was… erotic. The more I focused on that, the more I thought it was like my own juices. Stringy, sticky juices, with a musky taste.

She didn’t give me any more time to convince myself, pressing her tip to my lips. I opened for her, took her in, feeling the grooves between her scales with my lips, imagining how they would feel inside me.

Even if she didn’t fuck me, I swore at that moment to order one of those monster dildos as soon as I woke up (and hope my mum didn’t open the box when it arrived).

There was so much of her, I started gagging, pulling back. Once I settled, I slid her deeper again, ready for it, trying to hold on. I managed a bit better, tried again. There was no reason, just a need to satisfy her, a sense of pride. I wanted her to praise me, to praise my mouth.

Unlike with the Princess, her hand rested on the side of my head, not stroking me, but my head moved against her fingers, almost ticklish. I didn’t know why she did that until I finally managed to take all of her inside, her hand sliding through my hair to the back and then pressing my head against her, holding me in place as she whispered, “Good girl.”

I started choking, but she held me for another second before letting go. I pulled back, spluttering, so much spit dribbling down my chin. After a couple breaths, my eyes focused and I noticed the string of spit still joining my mouth to her dick.

My heart thumped, a wave of pleasure crashing through me, the sight intoxicating. There was an unspoken question in my head that went: I had all of that in my mouth? It didn’t look as big as it felt in my mouth. I had a small dildo I’d used a few times, had hoped to use it at university where I’d have more privacy, and it already gave me a good stretch. If she put her dick inside me….

If she did, it wasn’t now.

“What a useful bitch. With her on hand, this one’s snatch should last all day,” the Princess said.

Slowly, I realised my role was over.

The Princess undressed and lay on the bed, spreading her pussy, slowly rubbing it. Then the dragon joined her, eased into her. They kissed for a while, barely moving their hips, hands stroking and squeezing and spanking, before finally the dragon began to thrust. Deep, powerful thrusts, squelching, the slap of skin meeting leather, moans, groans, the Princess teary eyed and flushed, biting her lip.

More erotic than any porn, happening right in front of me, air soon so thick with the stench of sex that I could taste it—but I could only sit there. My pussy ached, knickers drenched to the point I was sure my pyjama bottoms were too, making a mess on the rug. But I didn’t dare touch myself.

I watched and listened and smelled, tortured, for maybe an hour. They knew what they were doing, the Princess ever so slowly working up to her orgasms and, when the last one came, she screamed and squirmed, tears rolling down her cheeks. The dragon kept going a bit longer at a slow pace until the Princess stopped her, shuffling up, dick falling out of her.

Then it was my turn again.

“Lick me clean,” the Princess said.

I stayed where I was for a moment, then realised she was looking at me, that she didn’t speak to the dragon like that. Clumsily getting to my feet, legs asleep, I staggered over to the bed, crawled on, put myself between her legs.

However, the dragon pulled my shoulder, turning me around. “This first,” she said.

Her dick in front of me, I didn’t have to ask for clarification. Without any hesitation, I opened wide and took as much of her in as I comfortably could, then closed my lips, using them to wipe her dick clean.

My first taste of another woman’s juices was from a dragon-woman’s dick, but it was still as incredible as I’d hoped. Similar to mine, bitter, musky, intoxicating. After sucking a few times, I noticed a different taste too—the dragon was leaking. She didn’t tell me to stop, so I kept sucking, addicted to the trickle seeping out.

“What, pray tell, is taking that bitch so long?” the Princess asked.

The dragon let out a rumbling chuckle, smoke rising. “That is clean enough,” she said, pushing my face away.

I was too engrossed to react for a moment, filled with frustration. Once the dragon turned me back around, though, desire flooded me, wiping away any other feelings.

Her pussy looked so pretty, glistening, a few tiny bubbles here and there. So close, the smell was overwhelming. Every breath made me feel more heady, hazy, drawing me in until I wet my nose on her.

“Hurry up or this one shan’t reward her pet,” the Princess said.

At the mention of a reward, I sobered up just enough to do as she’d asked me, tilting my head and licking. She shivered, I shivered, the taste stronger from the source. Stronger than I’d ever tasted myself on my own fingers—not like I was that flexible.

One lick was all it took, the next one coming on instinct, lapping up her juices, spurred on by her twitches and moans. When I licked too high, though, she gave my cheek a sharp slap, not too painful, but enough to sting. “Naughty bitch, not there.”

I was dazed for a moment, thrown out of my routine. But, thinking, I realised I’d licked her clit. Obviously, she must have still been sensitive. Learning from my mistake, I moved back down to her opening, fresh juices leaking out.

Just that I quickly noticed they tasted different, familiar. The dragon hadn’t only leaked in my mouth.

I pushed my tongue inside a little, lapping it up, thirsty. My pussy ached so badly, I winced with every pulse. I’d heard of blue balls before, but this was a first, one I never wanted to feel again.

Yet I couldn’t stop, never even considered it. My brain was rewired to serve and my body didn’t resist. Lick after lick, I cleaned up every taste of the dragon I could until there was only the Princess’s taste left. As if she knew that, she patted my head and whispered, “Good girl.”

Learning, I stopped. Her hand stroked the side of my face and then scratched under my chin.

“Is the bitch in heat? Show this one,” the Princess said.

I sat up and then spread my legs. My pyjama bottoms were a mess, the wet patch very noticeable.

“Oh dear. Well, as thy master, this one must take care of thy needs,” she said, emphasising the word “needs”. “Strip.”

She didn’t have to tell me twice. Scrambling, I yanked off my bottoms and knickers, entirely soaked in my sticky juices, and then jerked off my top, leaving my hair in a mess. Returning to the position, I spread my legs for her.

“Would thee help this one?”

She wasn’t looking at me, only one other person in the room. I swallowed. The next moment, I was on my back, the dragon looming over me as she got in position, then her tip was against my entrance. It all happened so suddenly, I was scared, heart racing for the wrong reason and eyes tearing up.

I thought about what was about to happen and how much it would hurt and I desperately wished to wake up. But I didn’t, no matter how many seconds passed.

Then I realised seconds had passed and nothing had happened.

“Is this not what you want?” the dragon quietly asked.

I blinked a few times, clearing away the tears, then looked at her, seeing her concerned expression. Overwhelmed, I couldn’t speak right away, needing a few more breaths first.

“You are, um, too big for me. I think,” I whispered.

She softly smiled, stroking the side of my face. “I am a shape-shifter, you know,” she whispered, warm and gentle, comforting. Her hand slid between me and the bed, then lifted my head up slightly, my gaze naturally ending up at where else our bodies met.

And I watched as her dick shrank. Not much, but enough that I felt that knot of panic unravel.

“How is this?” she whispered.

I tried to nod, but couldn’t in this position, so said, “Great, I think.”

She lowered my head back to the bed, then her expression cooled. Like what had happened was just a figment of my imagination. “You’ve been a good girl,” she whispered and slowly eased into me. “And this is your reward.”

What a reward it was, the grooves between her scales feeling just as good as I’d imagined, her size just right to make me feel every single one, but not enough to hurt. Soon, there was this incredible feeling of fullness. I sighed, somehow letting out more air than my lungs had, like my entire body was deflating.

I was already hazy from the panic leaving, but the feelings from my pussy, they melted me. She barely moved, but it was enough. Tingles and shivers, my thighs couldn’t decide between squeezing her or spreading wide, welcoming her in.

One time, I’d talked online in a sapphic group about if we’d sleep with a transwoman who hadn’t had bottom surgery. Back then, I was pretty open to the idea, thinking it wasn’t really different to sex with a strap-on.

Right now, it was strange, the texture making her dick feel like a dildo, but my mind was full of how real it was. How it had felt in my mouth, the way it dribbled, tasting her inside the Princess’s vagina.

That my vagina would soon be full of her… cum.

There wasn’t time to think about it, but I knew there was something absurd about a lesbian with a creampie fetish. It had been an absurd night.

“Breed me,” I said, begged, clenching around her.

Her eyes showed a flicker of surprise, then it was gone. But she had heard. “Naughty bitch, wanting to have puppies without her master’s permission.”

The switch back to scolding sent me to the edge. Yes, I was naughty, wanting to be filled with her thick, hot cum. But being naughty felt so good.

I wrapped my legs around her, keeping her deep inside me, and started rocking my hips. She could have broken away, but she didn’t. She didn’t fight me at all. Instead, she rocked with me.

It was so intense. Intense, but not enough. I reached down and wet my finger with my juices, then rubbed my clit, barely touching it, but that enough to send me over the edge. Climaxing, every muscle tensed up, feeling every groove of her cock—and feeling when it throbbed.

“Naughty bitch, take my seed,” she said, harsh. “Take it and give birth to my puppies.”

I blacked out, lost to the endlessly deep pleasure, maybe died. If I still had a body, I couldn’t feel it. There was just wave after wave of pleasure, a euphoric pulse. And as I slowly came to, my breaths matched the waves, gasping, body burning like I’d been drowning, but rewired to enjoy the pain. Nothing moved when I tried, heavy, but also light, a balloon full of mild steam, warm and comfortable.

“What a messy snatch,” the Princess said, sounding so near and yet so muffled. “Oh well, this one shall have to clean up.”

I didn’t think about what that meant, what would happen, couldn’t think. Then her tongue licked my pussy and I was shocked awake, everything coming into focus, body aching in the most wonderful way, but overwhelmed, sensitive. I gasped, trying to curl up, but her next lick came regardless.

My reaction hardly subtle, she looked at me and I looked back at her. After a deep breath, I nodded, bracing myself.

Her tongue plunged inside me, lapping at the dragon’s cum like I had. I didn’t know how she’d coped, the feeling so intense, almost bringing me to another orgasm. And the feelings never lessened, more like I clenched the right muscles, edging. I let it all build up again while she cleaned me, then, on the verge of breaking, I reached down and pointed at my clit.

“Please.”

That was all I could say, and it was enough. The Princess brushed her hair behind her ear and leaned up, the tip of her tongue stroking my clit, sending a jolt through me. I tensed up, breath hitched. Another lick, another—

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the couch, sweat wiped clean, a blanket over my naked body, pillow under my head. Seeing me stir, the Princess quickly got up and strode over, a soft smile on her lips.

“Good morning, sleepy girl. How does thee feel?” she asked, gently stroking the top of my head.

How did I feel? “Amazing,” I whispered, voice strained—how much had I moaned? Screamed?

“Thee did very well,” she said.

I dumbly smiled, full of pride, and she laughed at my silly expression.

“Does thee wish to stay the night or has thee somewhere else to be?” she asked.

I wanted to accept her offer, but a distant conversation came back to me. After clearing my throat, I said, “I, I’m going to disappear soon. The King summoned me—to rescue you.”

“Is that so?” she said, sadness colouring her smile.

“But… he said, if I don’t manage it today, he’ll summon me again as many nights as it takes,” I said, speaking quickly, wanting to cheer her up.

It worked, her smile blooming. “Wonderful. This one would very much like to play with one’s pet again,” she said.

“Me too,” I said, finding the strength to lift my hand and stroke her cheek.

“And me.”

I turned, looking up, and saw the dragon leaning on the back of the couch. Smiling, I reached out to her with my other hand, just managing to touch her cheek when—

“WHAT D’YOU MEAN YOU CLEANED UNDER MY BED?”

Blinking a few times, my hands touched nothing, a familiar ceiling above me. Was it all a dream? I looked down and lifted the duvet, smiling.

“Guess I’ll have to bring the pyjamas back tonight.”