Mayael ran with the leaping strides of a horse, the speed of a mongoose, and the endurance of a timber wolf on the hunt. The druid had transformed herself into an elk, using the beast's powerful legs to speed her way down the mountainside as quickly as she could... the animal's considerable bulk and venerable strength enabled her to barge through thickets and groves without slowing down. She had maintained that pace for more than an hour now, running frantically, and after that long in flight, a foamy froth spilled from her leathery mouth. Mayael's chest heaved with each wheeze of her massive lungs, trying to catch her breath... she was exhausted and wanted badly to rest, but terror gave her wings.
Few things could compel an animal to run like she had been. Predators on the hunt, that would be one. A rampaging forest fire scorching right at their hooves would be another. Predators and forest fires... those two things combined motivated the exhausted Mayael to keep running. She could still feel the heat blazing inside her thoughts, remembering the dragon's breath just inches from her... a memory that couldn't be ignored.
Never in her life had the young druid felt this close to the thoughtlessly bestial. The young adventurer had hoped this would be an exciting venture into the outside world... instead, it had become the greatest horror she could imagine, and her whole being was subsumed with the need to escape. She didn't even notice the sun in the sky, or the way the light shimmered on the Moonsea... In this madcap chase, she was more animal than elf. The only thing her mind could focus on was the intensity of the escape.
Though she had not taken to wing, her vision was as unerring as a hawk's... each time she burst from between trees, Mayael could confirm she was heading in the right direction - back to the village from whence they had come. It was the only place she could realistically flee... That hinterland village nested amongst towering pines and glittering lakes. To the very villagers they had been hired to save.
Mayael barreled towards the village walls, her heart pounding in her chest like a hundred wild war drums. As she neared the gate, she felt a surge of relief wash over her when she realized it was unguarded and that no one would impede her. The dragon could not be too far behind her; it might reach the village soon. She had to warn the villagers to take shelter and evacuate.
With a final burst of energy, Mayael leaped through the open gate, transforming back into her elven form as she landed on the cobblestone street. Her green hair was disheveled, and her body glistened with sweat from the exhausting run. She took a brief moment to catch her breath before sprinting further into the town, desperate to find someone in authority to warn them of the impending danger.
The streets were eerily quiet, with most of the villagers going about their daily routines inside their homes or shops. Mayael's panicked breaths and footsteps echoed off the wooden buildings as she ran, drawing curious glances from a few people who poked their heads out of doors or windows.
"Help! The dragon is coming!" Mayael cried out, her voice hoarse from exertion and fear. "We need to evacuate immediately!"
Her urgent pleas seemed to shake the villagers' complacency, and they began to emerge from their homes, eyes wide with concern. A militiaman in a chainmail shirt ran up to Mayael, his sword drawn. The guard's face drained of color as he stared at her. "By the gods..." he whispered. What have you done?"
Mayael gulped, trying to regain her composure to explain the situation clearly. "Archleon... he's too strong. The others... they didn't escape. I barely escaped with my life. It can't be far behind me now. We have to get everyone to safety!"
Mayael kept moving, her exhaustion meaning that she all but staggered toward the center of town like an ungainly elephant. That was when the first group came out to see her—the very first people of importance Mayael had set her elven eyes upon when they arrived in town, the portly mayor and his retinue. "Mayor! Sir!" she gasped, stumbling over the cobblestones.
Mayael had to warn them about what had happened. Inform them about the downfall of her party. But how could she even parlay the tragedy of their fates? The nightmare of their shocking defeat? The unexpectedness of Vallistra's betrayal? Not even to mention the possibility that Archleon saw their heroic incursion as an act of hostility on the villagers' part… That the wyrm was now crafting plans to reduce their village to ashes.
"Sir Mayor!" she repeated as the man drew so near shadows started vanishing from his rotund contours. "Please, we need to talk. Now!" Mayael's belly was weighted down with guilt at the possibility of having ensured the doom of the people she had come here to redeem. The guilt ladened her tongue from speaking any further words. What could she even say? How could she explain that their would-be heroes had turned into their doom? How could she live with herself after she had done that?
"I already know," the Mayor said somberly. "You were defeated, weren't you? The dragon is coming, isn't he?"
"I'm sorry..." she whispered, her voice low. "I think we need to run. The dragon might d-"
"I already know what to do," the mayor said. His eyes flicked up and met those of someone behind Mayael, and he nodded.
Mayael didn't have time to wonder what he was looking at before the blackjack came down on the back of her head with a heavy thud. Her slim, willowy figure went momentarily as stiff as the trunk of a tree. A startling blast of shock and pain flashed through her. Then all thoughts of guilt and alarm and failure were dispelled from her mind as it wandered, and in their wake was left behind a void of emptiness blacker than the night.
Mayael's head spun, her vision blurry as she twitched randomly on the ground, her muscles refusing to obey her brain's scattered commands. She didn't feel herself falling... she was just suddenly on the floor, motionless. Through the haze, she realized that someone had hit her from behind... that she was under attack!
As Mayael struggled to regain her senses, the village elder's face swam into focus above her. His eyes were filled with a mixture of regret and determination. In a quiet voice, he spoke, "I am truly sorry that it has to be like this. I didn't want it to be this way... but I will see to the safety of my people."
Mayael tried to comprehend his words, but they didn't make any sense to her. Before she could make any sense of them, the man drew back and delivered a brutal kick to her face. The force of the impact caused a blinding flash of pain as her nose shattered under the blow. Her head felt as if it were about to split in two, and her senses threatened to slip away into the darkness. Through her agony, she heard the mayor mutter something about sacrifice and dragons, but her mind was too overwhelmed by pain to understand his words fully. The last thing she saw was the grim determination on the faces of the villagers surrounding her before the world faded to black, and she lost consciousness.
Mayael woke with a start, her head throbbing and her vision blurred. It was hard enough to see that she felt her surroundings more than she perceived them. Still, the druid could tell she was so immobilized she was like a fly caught in the spider's web. No matter how she twisted or bucked she couldn't move from her upright position. As she tried to focus, she realized that she was chained to a wooden pole in the center of the town square. She had always hated the touch of unbarked wood... now that was pressed against her from behind.
"B-By every single dryad and spirit of the forest, what the hell is going on?" she muttered. The last thing she remembered was the elder's words and the brutal kick to her face... but the sun had just been reaching its zenith then. Now, it hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets.
Her first instinct was to compare herself to a deer having plummeted into a hunter's traphole and was now surrounded by its hungry stalkers. However, a more apt comparison would have been that of the Witch bound to be burned by ignorant bumpkins. As her vision slowly recovered, she saw clearly that the town square was filled with villagers, their faces illuminated by the flickering flames of torches they held aloft. There wasn't one among them whose countenance wasn't cold and chiseled like that of a statue. Their eyes were fixed on Mayael, watching her every move.
Mayael realized that she had been tied just inches from the middle of the square, where Serina had made her heroic speech promising them salvation. The difference in mood between that sunlit memory and this nefarious moment was as stark as could be. Words caught her attention. "What happened? Why are you here? Where are the others?"
Shaking her head, Mayael cast the last of her discombobulation from her brain. Turning her head, she saw the portly mayor at the forefront of the crowd. "M-mayor?" she croaked out. "W-What is the mean-ning of t-this? Why are you-"
The elder's expression was a combination of regret and resignation. "You are alone. Good, good," the mayor spoke as if trying to calm himself. "That must mean the other adventurers perished in the tunnels. Yes... Lord Archleon cannot be very angered at such an outcome."
Mayael gaped in dismay at him. "But I know my Lord. I am a learned man," the mayor continued like some devotee terrified of his fickle god. "Lord Archleon wants it all. He always does. He will not be satisfied with merely-"
"You fiends!" Mayael bellowed from the pole, her elven body enringed by ropes as thick and as harsh as that used by merchant ships. "You betrayed us!? You were devotees of that vile Serpent all along?" Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled against the chains that bound her, trying desperately to free herself... But the ropes held fast, cutting into her wrists and ankles as she strained against her restraints. She was trapped, helpless, and at the mercy of the very people she had come to save.
The other surrounding villagers remained as unmoving and unemotive as effigies -- acting like the drones of ants who can only communicate via their Queen. The Mayor's expression remained hollow and grim as he spoke his severe words. "You do not understand," the native man began. "Archleon's dragonfire is what decided who lives and who dies in the Moonsea. He is the God of these woods. There were other villages once… but our Lord had them burned. They didn't want to give Archleon what he coveted. Only we obeyed his commands until the end. Only we survived. Only..."
A murmur ran through the crowd, a mixture of fear and confusion.
Suddenly, the elder stood and addressed the crowd. "People of Greenmoss," he began, his voice carrying across the square. "We have a difficult decision to make tonight. The dragon has been displeased with our offerings, and if we do not appease him, he will destroy our village and all who live here."
"Only, we ran out of beautiful young maidens to provide him," the mayor continued. "Yet Archleon's avarice would not accept that... he kept demanding more. His dragon spawn wouldn't listen to reason... we had to provide them some other way, or we would face destruction. So... he summoned sellswords and adventurers." He shook his head. "We hoped you would be able to defeat the monster... but if you failed, then perhaps your bodies would satiate Lord Archleon's rapaciousness for another season. No one would question a few adventurers going missing... it is just what happens."
"You sacrificed us!?" the young elf exclaimed.
"Sacrifice?" he remarked as if surprised. "I would have preferred you were victorious, but... Yes. Sacrifice is what the wyrm wants, so sacrifice is what we give."
The druid was so stupefied by what she was hearing her thoughts seemed to freeze into stone, petrified as a gorgon's victim. She felt like an oak wounded, sawed down the middle, and sent to fall. The villagers had sent her and her sister to die... sacrificed Nayael and Serina and all the others to Archleon for personal benefit? Her whole conception of the cosmos upturned like it had done during the treacherous clash down in the caverns. Mayael and her companions had not arrived here as heroes. They had arrived here as fools!
"No," Mayael wheezed in confounding disbelief even as she futilely struggled and tugged against her bounds. "No, you are mad! Do not surrender to the Great Serpent; fight him! My comrades and I traveled here for your benefit; we-"
The elder stepped closer to Mayael, his eyes filling with tears as he reached out to touch her cheek gently. "I am truly sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the rustling of the trees. "But I must do what is necessary to protect my people."
The crowd around them started chanting "Sacrifice, Sacrifice, Sacrifice" over and over, their voices rising in a cacophony of zealous fervor. Mayael's heart pounded in her chest as the reality of her situation sank in. The villagers were not only willing to sacrifice her, but they were eager for it. Their supposed innocence had been an act, a charade to lure her and her companions into a false sense of security.
"The sacrifice," the mayor said, his eyes glinting with an unholy hunger. "It must be pure." With that, he reached for Mayael's crotch, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of her breeches.
"No! No! Noooo!" she bellowed, struggling against the ropes that bound her. But the bindings held fast, her attempts at resistance futile against their unyielding grasp.
The mayor’s chubby hand snaked down quickly, locating her innocence. He pawed and thumbed at that intact hymen, feeling out its firmness. A wash of almost cathartic relief overcame the mayor at confirming she was a maiden. "Praise the Lord," he said, his voice echoing across the square. "She is a pure one!"
The chants of "sacrifice! sacrifice!" resounded with ever-escalating zealotry as Mayael flinched away in humiliation. The touch of the elder's hands on her most private area filled her with a sense of violation she had never before experienced. Her blood turned cold, like a bear going into hibernation.
The druid could scarcely believe what was happening. The villagers, people she had sought to protect, were now eager to offer her up as a sacrifice to their pagan god. She felt betrayed, used, and discarded like a piece of garbage. Her mind raced, searching for a way out of this nightmare, but she found none.
Her blood was only going to grow colder.
The mayor wiped his fingers off in Mayael's green hair, frowning. Just as he did, however, the druid heard the flapping of vast wings in the distance. The sound grew louder and closer with each passing second, sending a chill down her spine.
The crowd around her erupted in chaos as the flapping of mighty wings grew louder and nearer. Some villagers begged for mercy, falling to their knees with upturned faces as they beseechingly stretched their hands skywards. Others panicked and scattered like frightened sheep, seeking refuge in nearby buildings and huddling together in fear. The mayor, once so eager to sacrifice Mayael, retreated as quickly as his chubby legs could carry him. He scurried away from the scene, his previous bravado evaporating like dew in the morning sun.
Mayael couldn't help but scoff at the cowardice displayed by the very people who had captured her. Their pleas for mercy only served to highlight their hypocrisy and cruel intentions towards her. The druid's heart raced as she awaited her impending doom, knowing that the dragon's arrival spelled the end of her struggle.
"Please," cried one villager, tears streaming down her face as she clutched at the hem of her dress. "Have mercy upon us, great dragon!"
"Wyrm Lord Archleon!" shouted another, his voice quivering with terror. "We have brought you the sacrifice! Please spare our village!"
Mayael craned her neck upwards, trying to catch a glimpse of the nefarious beast. Even with her elven sight, she could not spot him against the blackened skies. Suddenly, the flapping of his great leathery wings blew a wafting wind through her grass-green hair. Then, the vast red dragon appeared out of the darkness. Archleon swooshed past right above her like a great migratory bird. He must have followed her every woodland stride like a bloodhound, and despite having already suspected it was the case the druid felt a moment of sorrow. Serina must have perished... the brave paladin would not have let him pass while she still stood.
Mayael alone was left.
Archleon landed, his weight coming down on the stone form of the village hall with a crash so heavy that the whole town square shook like it was wracked by an earthquake for a moment. The druid's imprisoning pole nearly rattled from its socket at his dust-billowing force. The dragon perched on top of the village hall like an impossibly large hawk, leering down at the empty streets like he was looking for prey.
Up close, the dragon was even more impressive. The red-scaled menace sneered towards her with neck, tail, tongue, and wings braggadociously outstretched, impossibly vast and impossibly powerful. Mayael swallowed hard, her mouth dry with fear as Archleon leered down at her. The vast dragon's eyes narrowed as he studied the bound druid, his forked tongue flicking out to taste the air around her, and a glint of recognition glowed within his hungry, golden eyes at coming face-to-snout with Mayael.
"S-Serpent!" she croaked.
Archleon laughed, a deep, throaty chuckle that sent shivers down Mayael's spine. "Ah! The hunting eagle finds its mouse!" he snarled as if mocking her druidic creed. His powerful wings beat the air, creating a gust of wind that threatened to snap the wooden pole in two.
Mayael struggled futilely against her bonds, desperate to escape the monster's grasp. But the ropes held fast, cutting into her wrists and ankles as she strained against her restraints. She was trapped, helpless, and at the mercy of the very dragon she had come to vanquish.
Archleon drew closer, his massive head looming over her. His hot, foul breath washed over her, making her gag... and she saw the fires sparking to life in the depths of his throat. For an instant, Mayael thought she was about to be incinerated... but then the dragon turned his gaze on the town and exhaled. From high above the rush of air and the roar of the fire had been loud - this close, it was deafening. Immolating flames blasted out from between its open maw in a blazing ray that scorched by just over Mayael’s head,, setting multiple rooftops throughout the town alight.
Mayael winced in terror, shying away as much as possible in her bonds as the flames lit the fading town. Around her villagers cried out, screaming in terror and desperation above the flaming din.
The Dragonfire ceased as quickly as it had begun, leaving Mayael shocked that she hadn't been killed. With her skin still tingling from the heat, she looked back and found that the dragon was stalking closer forward. "The worms down here flatter themselves to think I do not know what they are doing," Archleon growled, his long-necked skull floating into view from behind her like an airborne serpent. "I permit it because adventurers like your friends are excellent entertainment. But they require punishment for their failure. Otherwise, they might get the wrong idea of our... relationship."
The dragon chuckled as in the background the villagers yelled and ran, working to put out the fires Archleon had started. "This time, they did find me some wonderful heroes though. Precisely the kind of beautiful playthings I wanted to acquire. All of them were... but you..." he croaked and sniffed, his nostrils almost as large as the drui’d open mouth. "Ah! You are a freshness fit to be devoured!"
Even in such an unnatural beast, Mayael could understand what he was thinking. The druid could sense the teasing sadism in Archleon's words. Arousals deep within him made the dragon more playful than usual—the same senses that let her understand the moods of animals could tell her that. The sense of lust pouring off of the dragon sparked anxiety deep within the elf, making her tremble against her ropes. Oh gods... suddenly, being burned alive didn't sound so terrible.
"The one who was so desperate to protect you... the planetouched woman? She proved an interesting nut to crack." Archleon spoke with a taint of obsessiveness in his tone that alerted Mayeal's suspicions. "Interesting... but not very satisfying, I'm afraid. No, no, no... Not a very satisfying toy at all."
The dragon's maw stretched into a wide, toothy grin. "But such is the golden luck of dragons," Archleon growled as he stepped around her, the ground rumbling as the huge dragon circled the tiny elf. When the Paladin proved unsatisfying, I realized I still had a rabbit running loose—you!"
Archleon upraised one gigantic claw and scratched against Mayael's bonds like a gigantic feline, and a claw like a sword sliced through the ropes as if they were made from parchment. In this sundering destruction her clothing was ripped apart just as easily, swan-pale breasts and a puffy pubic mound were both exposed behind where her woodland raiment had once been.
The ropes fell around her, but the destruction of her bonds didn't mean the adventuress was either emancipated or liberated. The growling monster immediately clutched her in his talon-like claws, squeezing it around her before she even had the opportunity to run for safety. A horrific scream of fright ripped its way from her throat. Mayael attempted to wriggle her way free, but this was impossible - his grip was too firm, almost crushing.
"Yes, all soft and gamey," the archvillian hissed while feeling up the springtime softness of her flesh. "This rabbit will be most satisfying indeed."
Mayael screamed as Archleon began drawing her closer toward his body... and the sunken crotch between his legs. It was only now that the druid had a chance to notice which particular type of lustful excitement was animating the Great Serpent so...
Her eyes were wide as she stared at the rigid pole jutting from his groin like a sturdy redwood, massive and strong. Her eyes and mouth rounded like an owl’s at sighting the Dragon's prodigious cock... already painfully erect, its bulbous knob lathered in slimy pre-cum. It occurred to Mayael that this was no recent tumescence... the dragon must have sported it even as he flew into the village, already excited and prepared for his prize. Everything that Maia and her sister discussed regarding the dragon's breeding habits and the fate that awaited virgins captured by the wyrm came rushing back to her all at once, and dread fell upon the clutched druid like a waterfall pouring directly on her head.
The druid stared at the too-large cock with the kind of wild panic cats reserved for snakes. "Nwwwwoooooohhh!" she bellowed, kicking her legs in panic and trying to squirm her way free. She immediately tried to change form, change into something smaller... something that could squirm away. The druid had already used up so much magic today, and she hadn't had time to rest; she wasn't sure if she would even be able to manage the tiniest transformation. Ultimately, however, it didn't matter. Before she could manage to summon even half of the focus she needed Mayael felt the dragon's power just seem to crush her down. It wasn't magic, not the way a priest or wizard used it. It was a sheer, smothering force of will, an iron determination to dominate, and a sense of utter conviction that he should. It crushed Mayael's attempt to draw on magic as thoroughly as a mountain would have crushed her body, and she could do nothing but squirm as he brought her lower and closer...
Houses were still burning in the distance as Mayael made contact with that obscenely large pole. He didn't fuck her... rather, he ground her against his swollen girth, almost like a man stroking himself. The Druid was bobbed up and down along its length like a rag, rubbed physically to produce uncouth stimulation.
Mayael struggled even more fiercely as the dragon continued to rub her against his pole. She fought against the repugnant sensation so hard that she nearly pulled her shoulder from its socket as she tried to struggle free of the dragon's grip. This masturbation wasn't only repulsive... it hurt. The cock was warm to the touch, and the scales along its length were almost sharp and hard as steel armor. The organ's scaly shaft made for a harsh and uncomfortable touch, akin to being scraped against leagues of bark or stone... the friction was rougher on her naked flesh than even the battle had been.
Trapped beneath the dragon's belly, Archleon dragged Mayael all the way from his bloated testicles to his swollen cockhead. Each stroke along his length was long and perverse... each time her body made contact with his shaft, the prodigious gobs of pre-cum infesting his crown ensured that it was soon smeared all over her scowling face and breasts. So much lubrication was provided that it oozed down her neck and body. "Let go of meee!" she thoughtlessly demanded, trapped like a piglet in a tiger's paws.
Archleon responded by scrubbing her against him even harder. He wiped and swiped with her body, turning the bobbing motions into an unorganized sponging of his junk. Because his member was so vast it felt like being bludgeoned by a club, the prong flicking and flipping to and fro. Mayael was pressed against that dick as thoroughly as a pup would be with its mother's teat, covering her in his fluids. As a druid, Mayael was naturally accustomed to many things that civilized people would have deemed unsanitary or disgusting, not finding it especially concerning... Yet not even she could stomach such unwholesome smells and such a disgraceful set of touches.
In the background, the villagers continued wailing in anguish at the burning of their homes. Despite their efforts to fight the fire, the rooftops were now blazing spectacles of fire rising towards the sky. Lonesome figures braved death to try and extinguish those flickering flames... but not everyone, not the whole village. The rest of the cowards clearly feared another blast of billowing fire from their ominous Dread-God Lord Archleon too much to assist their fellow villagers.
"Stoooooop!" the sharp-eared adventuress repeated... but the dragon didn't. Instead, he turned his attention towards defiling the one thing which marked Mayael a maiden. Turning the gigantic claw he held her with, the dragon sought to align her naked hips with his bell-shaped cockhead. After doing so, each time he dragged her back and forth, the great serpent’s enormous knob would bump up against the elf's belly and thighs, making her feel as if she were being headbutted by a gladiator rather than being bumped by a penis.
"Pleaaaaase! Please don't do this..." the druid wept, screaming the words out with tears in her eyes. "I... I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just want to go home! I'll go home to my forest; you'll never see me again!"
Archleon snorted through his nostril, clearly finding her begging humorous. "I know I wouldn't. That's why I'll never let you go, my sweet, puny little elf. There is only one way you will ever leave..."
Mayael struggled against his handhold as he sought to find his mark. Incommensurable terror infused her as that slimy knob came closer and closer to its target. Mayael knew for certain, no matter what the evidence of his children suggested, that if this brutal beast were actually to penetrate her, then it would be the end of her. She would die like the forest in winter, and there would be no miraculous resurrection for her, no priests who would beseech their gods to bring her back from the other side. He would simply split her hips apart in his quest to rip her maidenhood, and there would be nothing left but gore and viscera for the carrion birds to feast upon.
"I do not waste my time with weaklings," Archleon growled, voice filled with amusement. "Only a strong, capable mother would ever survive to bear my brood, and my horde of unwilling vessels is large enough that I do not need to accommodate weak flesh." The dragon's cock slid against her body, like a sword preparing for the execution. "I find it best to discover right away if my vessel is worthy. In a few minutes, I'll either have a living mother to add to my collection... or I'll have a fresh meal.
Mayael couldn't help it... she sobbed. The young druid had begged her sister to let her come along. She wanted to be a hero, like Niranya, more than anything... become famous as a champion of good and righteous causes. Now she felt like a fool... she was going to die raped by a dragon, impaled on a monstrous cock, and there seemed to be no escape from her inevitable fate.
Then the great wyrm finally found his central mark, and all other things left her head.
Mayael's legs kicked like a frog's in water as Archleon sought to entomb that massive rod inside of her virginal box. "HWWWOOOOIIIIIIIHHH!!!" the druid wailed, her hair swaying back and forth and tangling around her antlers as Mayael cried out. Her face flushed almost crimson, her mouth stretched wide as a cavern, and her eyes large as the full moon. Worst of all, however, was the thought that all of this was merely from having Archleon cockhead push against her cunt. Her pubic mound seemed to sink inwards towards the groin, and its fleshy folds stretched sideward merely from this initial clash, but he had not even entered yet.
The true tarnish was still to come.
"This is what your God does to those who attempt to slay him!" Archleon thundered, roaring to the villages whose homes still burned. "Hear her scream! Hear her terror! Hear the destruction of one who attempted to strike at your God, and know the same awaits you for the same sin!"
Archleon had by now arranged her perfectly for the puncture to progress. He commenced his sexual blasphemy in earnest. Considering his protruding phallus was thicker than the elf's biceps, it should have been completely impossible... but dragons were creatures of the supermundane and powerful, not the natural. His cock was not like flesh... it was harder than tempered iron and covered in unyielding scales. A solid battering ram would have had more given to it. The dragon's muscles were matched only by his ravenous desire to ignore her agency and sanctity completely. Nothing Mayael was capable of could stop such a shaft. Every law and taboo that the Druid held dear was nothing but a joke to the dragon.
So instead of his cock bending under the pressure as the dragon continued to push, Mayael bent and broke instead.
"EEEEEEIIIIIIIIHHHHHH!!!" she shrieked in a cry unrivaled by any of nature's creatures. The young she-elf's maidenhood snapped mid-convulsion, birthing this noise. Her vaginal folds were simply so distended the rims holding its translucent seal attached sundered like a leaf in autumn. The strength of the impalement was delivered from his hand, his hips, his forelimbs... all of them worked together, essentially screwing Mayael onto his cock. The dragon's scaled penis remained a towering red colossus while her twat stretched to absurd and torturous dimensions trying to house him. Mayael's visage was turned into a mask of pain, more horrific and expressive than that of a hare being devoured by wolves.
Even so, not even this profanement was enough leverage for him to penetrate. The disparity between their organs was simply too dramatic. The dragon kept turning and wrenching and twisting her onto his well-slimed cocktop, and within seconds her recently virginal hole had already been stretched to a greater circumference than her bellowing mouth. Its pink tight slit was pried into great wide arches.
The shaft was also incredibly hot to the touch. Mayael's womanhood burned and singed even as she was gored open. With their organs being ground together so completely, she was branded like a head of cattle. To Mayael, it felt so hot that even the tears of agony streaking down her cheeks felt warm like lava. This immensity of temperature impressed upon the druid the reality of the dragon's nature. She understood that she was being defiled by a creature closer to gods than her fellow woodland elves. Moreover, judging by the tempestuousness of these heat waves and his prior sadistic foreplay, she also understood this was the great serpent at his most wrathful.
This was no deflowerment. This was a shark's bite, intent on consuming Mayael’s lower-body wholesale.
"Hmhmhmmm..." Archleon chuckled in an eerie tenor more appropriate for a lich. "Yes... Feel it happen, girl. Your life existed only to serve me... it should end to serve me. Feel it as it is extinguished. Feel it as you are sacrificed to your true god... the shaft between Archleon's legs!"
"HHUUUUHHH!!!" she continued to blare, voice incredibly hoarse.
The dragon laughed. "I've screwed tighter cunts than yours," he seethed in reply. "Don't think that you... ah! Yes!"As he spoke, there was a cracking noise... and pain exploded worse than anything else as Mayael's hip broke. Her legs splayed further apart. "There... Now it's happening. Just... a little bit... more."
It hurt so badly... This was it. This was the end. She was going to die... Snuffed out from existence as swiftly as an insect snapped by the woodpecker’s beak. "EEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!" she screamed, moribund ruminations interrupted by jagged pain.
Then, in a moment of desperation, an idea reached her like an epiphany... a single moment of clarity amid otherwise blinding excruciation. A trick her mentors had taught her... how to use her shapeshifting powers to heal herself, changing form to knit hers back together. When she used her wildshaping magic, her flesh twisted and reshaped, healing herself and restoring herself to normal. Maybe, if she could focus enough to use her magic, it would let her stretched orifice not tear into bloody gore but reconstitute itself continuously like a supernatural seal around his penis...
Yet she would need to keep it active at all times. During his rape, while she was in agony and distracted, she would need to focus on her magic. That clarity of purpose seemed all but impossible, an insurmountable challenge like expecting birds to fly not only across oceans and continents but also dimensions of reality. She couldn't possibly manage to-
There was another crack from her hip bone, and her world vanished in pain. Archleon's cock sunk inwards... only another inch, but it heralded her coming impalement. The woe of futility vanished in the clarity of that pain... she had to do it. If she died, all of this was for nothing. There would be no one who could ever hope to be rescued, who might be able to get away and beg the high priests for the salvation of her fallen friends. She needed to stay alive... so she needed to succeed.
"You invaded my subterranean domains," Archleon jeered. "Now I'm invading yours."
"IIII-YYYYYAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!" she screamed like a banshee as the dragon's crimson-scaled manhood barraged into her cunt.
Mayael had to succeed... there was no other option.
The incredibly strong cock split her twat open straight down to the bone. Her vagina was torn apart, stretching around him, and her pelvis did the same... the part of her which had previously constituted her innocence and her groin was now impaled by his rapacious member. In order to fuck her, he had essentially arranged an entirely novel hole... the unseemly, unnatural wound carved into her body blazed even hotter than his burning hot blood. The pain was so extreme that the druid would rather have been gouged by a sword or a unicorn's horn.
"NNNNHHHHOOOOOO!!!" she exclaimed as Archleon's bulbous dickhead crashed into her cervix without even slowing down. She did not doubt that that diminutive entrance could fare any better against the dragon's might than her virginity had. It didn't matter if it was supposed to part or if going deeper would kill her... Using brute force and raw momentum, Archleon leveraged his muscles to skewer her with his steel-hard harpoon. The dragon's claws were closed around her torso, squeezing so hard that Mayael thought it was an open question if she would be stabbed to death by the cock or crushed to death by his claws.
Amidst this obliterating agony, however, Mayael had a moment of singular focus, a desperate attempt to save herself... channeling the evocation she had been mastering since she was a small child. Her concentration was not sufficient to transform herself much... just enough to put her flesh and viscera into a state of flux... it made her more flexible while she was in the process of healing. It kept her from being permanently ripped apart.
But it did nothing to save her psyche from the same kind of overwhelming trauma.
"GGGGGUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!!!" she bellowed, loudly enough that it seemed to shake the growing night. "NOO! NOOOO! BY ALL THE AFTERLIVES NNNOOOOOOOO!!!" Mayael continued screaming at the imperilment of her womb, bucking her body violently within Archleon's clasp in reaction to this onslaught... and in the very next seconds, the head of Archleon's enormous penis forced its way past her tight cervix, breaking bones like kindling. If it were not for the magic infusing her, that abrupt trauma might have killed her. It was like giving birth in reverse and at super-speed, the once-minuscule pathway broken apart and obscenely reamed open as her body tried to heal itself. The iron-hard cock slammed directly into her womb, treating her sacred feminity like a tight pocket to fuck... banging against its soft sensitive membrane wall as if looking to puncture into her midriff as well.
The savage set of collisions made the druid scream over and over and over again in unbearable agony. It would have been even louder if her lungs didn't feel like they were being flattened with each thrust. Savage force pressed against her internal organs, and the pain throbbed all the way down to her mangled bone and marrow. If it were not for her druidic powers, she would already be dead, just as the dragon threatened.
The dragon noticed. His laughter sent his cock vibrating inside of her body. "Ahh... so you are not as fragile as you look..." he growled with pleasure, his lips pulled over his teeth as if he smiled in delightful surprise. "Or perhaps I am just being too gentle with you?"
"N-N-N-NWWAAAAHHHHH!!!" the young elf screamed, her green hair thrashing back and forth as Archleon's draconian hand hauled her upwards. The pressure it placed against her mutilated hole was torturous. Before she was even halfway off his pole, however, the malefactor slammed her down again, and Mayael's concentration - and almost her sanity - was shattered with sexual pain from the savage impact.
"Still not dead?" the dragon laughed with what would have almost passed for joyful mirth... directed at such a grim torment. "Restorative magic... Excellent. In that case, you will be even more entertaining than I'd hoped," he concluded.
And the dragon began to fuck her.
Mayael's scream was breathless, almost soundless... she cried out her anguish with her tongue out of her mouth as Archleon bobbed her slender body up and down in his harsh handhold. The winged monster quickly picked up his pace in violating the green-haired elf. Every bone-jarring, organ-rearranging thrust was met with painful spasms from the druid, and what small sounds she could manage to make were more bestial than sentient. Her outstretched vaginal grotto was being plowed like a field, scraped on all sides by his scaly prong, but the most savage damage was done to the very organ her maidenhood protected - her womb. That sacred feminine chalice was being brutally clubbed by the dragon's cock, battered with every inwards stroke. Within the span of a few moments, her delicate uterus had been battered black and blue, becoming just as ransacked as the rest of her cunt.
"UUUUUUHHHHHHUUUU!!!" she croaked miserably, her raw, hoarse throat vibrating and barely a sound coming out. The great serpent covered the noise up entirely with the sounds he made, the Bam Bam Bam of scaled flesh slapping against her body. Mayael's mind was wrecked with pain - were it not for the fact that her druidic powers were practically second nature, she would have lost control of her powers entirely and been ripped apart from the inside as a consequence.
Her mentors back in the forest, however, had trained her well. They had meant that she would be able to protect herself out in the dangerous world, that it would save her life. It was doing that... with the result that a vicious dragon could rape her to his heart's content.
The agony was exceptional and extreme, and it gnawed at her psyche, threatening to rip apart her protective spellcraft. The druid had to periodically renew the spell on herself by attempting to wildshape again, and that meant she needed to get her concentration back together for at least a few moments. A few moments of concentration and focus while being reamed by a cock thicker than her leg. The effect was almost as exhausting and taxing on her mind as it was on her body, especially when Archleon's knobby cockhead popped through her cervix and collided hard against the back of her womb, distending it like an oblong sack. The tremendous forces involved made Mayael think that not even her magic was going to be enough to keep her alive for long.
"Hahahah!" Archleon laughed, flapping his scaley wings and swinging his tail in exhilaration. Mayael distantly noticed that his tail had crashed into a nearby chimney in his excitement, sending it tumbling down. "Yes! A thoroughly filled cunt! How satisfying in comparison to the paladin..."
Mayael couldn't understand what he meant by that... she barely comprehended that he had spoken the words in the first place. The druid was on the cusp of blacking out from the intense pain, not to mention passing out due to being suffocated in the dragon's handhold. Her mind didn't have the focus to think about Serina's fate... only the certainty of death if she let go kept her tethered to sanity at all, and to maintain even that lifeline, Mayael had to concentrate so ferociously it hurt.
Hurting her, however, was Archleon's prerogative. The dragon kept jerking her body up and down along his cock without even a hint of gentleness or mercy... less fucking her than he was using her tight body to masturbate. He wanted to hurt her, to generate all the pleasure he could from a mix of stimulation and pure sadism, and whether or not she survived it didn't concern her draconian tormentor in the least.
"EEEAAAAAAAHHH! NNNHHAAAUUU! UUUUUHHHHH!" Mayael continued to cry out in terror, anguish, and injury. If her lungs weren't being crushed almost flat, her outcries would have radiated loudly enough to be heard on the other side of the Moonsea. Every single villager who had betrayed her now had to listen to her excruciation as if they were temple prayers.
"What's the matter, little heroine?" Archleon mocked. "You invaded my domain. You wanted to slay a dragon and be a hero. Now, for the rest of your life, the closest you are going to come to hurting me is making my cock sore. The fittest survive and thrive... a champion of nature should be able to appreciate a morality as elemental as that."
Their intertwined organs kept on jostling tightly. Archleon's lamellate scales would scrape and scratch against her vaginal flesh with every bit of sawing friction. Coupled with his prodigious bodily heat, Mayael felt like her skin might be burning, as if she were pressed against a stove. The she-elf's shapeshifting power had to heal all of this, continuously reconfiguring her insides and her womanhood lest there be nothing left of her at all. Mayael had journeyed to this land to be a hero. Now the most heroic feat she was capable of was merely surviving rape by this colossal cock - it was the entirety of her existence.
Amidst the bedlam of torture, however, a sound managed to get Mayael's attention... a churning rumble of liquid, faint but unignorable. At first, her shattered mind wondered if it could be the burning of the houses or perhaps blood flowing from her hollowed-out holes... but the longer the sound lasted, the more distinct the noise became. It was like the boiling of a kettle, or like stew bubbling and popping on a fire. Even amidst the mind-wrecking pain, she couldn't dismiss it.
Archleon was shaking her so hard that Mayael's vision was bouncing around violently. Still, she managed to gaze downwards, towards his monstrous crotch... and her already-horrified gaze grew even wider at what she saw. The dragon's testicles... they weren't only swollen, but they were also pulsating, with prodigious veins bulking across their spherical contours. Mayael may have been a virgin, but the druid certainly wasn't innocent as the nature of reproduction. The dragon was gearing up to sperm her womanhood like a musky bear in a mating season. He had destroyed her virgin hole and was now looking to spray his unholy exuberance into it... and there was so much of it within those swollen orbs that she could hear the fluid moving around.
"No..." she groaned, mixing her agony with acute repulsion and chagrin. "N-nnn..."
"I wonder if you'll last until the end," Archleon chuckled while jerking his claw back and forth. "Mundane sacrifices so rarely do..."
The rising despair made Mayael want to die. Part of her desired to end her resistance, to let the wildshape go and let her life be blown away like pollen scattered in the wind. She could not do it, though... it was not the way of nature. Even the tiniest of insects fought until the end for survival... the philosophy had been baked into her bone-deep, deeper still than the dragon's cock could reach. That determination to survive propelled the druid to continue maintaining her healing no matter how much the pain wore her down. She would never surrender to her termination... but she would continue suffering on the very precipice of it.
Time seemed to lose all meaning as the dragon pumped towards his orgasm. Mayael sobbed in anguish as she was shaken again and again, stroked up and down, fucked until the point where she was practically senseless. The fact that she was suffering this rape at the hand of her party's vanquisher made the experience all so much worse. Serina, Maia, Obren... Niranya... were any of them even still alive?
Eventually, the dragon's masturbation with her body became even harder still, strong enough that it dimmed the live-preserving consciousness within her. The great serpent was looking to unload his boiling balls right inside her womanhood. He was fucking as if looking to breed her, just like Maia had warned... to impregnate her sacred elven hole and create monsters from her body! Such disgrace seemed even more abysmal than being incinerated by Dragonfire...
But no one asked her.
"My prize!" Archleon roared with a tremendous heave of his scaley nostrils, inflating his prodigious chest like a balloon. "You... are... mine!" he bellowed, and the dragon tilted his head back and blasted from both his fanged maw and his orgasming dick. The two discharges were ejected in unison. A vast cone of fire shot skyward, turning night into day, and while the fluid inside her was nowhere near as fiery, it felt no less molten to the druid who had to suffer through it. Massive ropes of thick white semen blasted straight into the fallen adventuress's mutilated womb, moving forward like a flood.
"EEEEEYYYYAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!" Mayael shrieked as the dragon's hot spunk splattered against the walls of her inner membranes. The impact of the dragon's cum hit her hard enough that her internal organs were rocked. This very first load was enough to inundate her entire vaginal canal completely, forcing his white slime to sluice back outwards from her slit... but at the same time, Archleon's balls kept churning, pumping out additional payloads just like his fire-spewing mouth. The dragon's cock just kept on spurting, splattering her wet, abused womb in volley after volley after volley of burning cum.
"AAaaaaaiiiiiiee!!!" Mayael kept shouting, her legs shaking like a woman in a seizure. Her lower limbs had already been painted white, covered in slimy white fluids from all the sperm that had voided out from her womanhood. It felt like she was bathing in foul and sordidly-hot slime, and it was only marginally less torturous than how it felt inside her quim. Mayael might have been a druid, but she was suffering like a martyr... it was only through sheer instinct and determination that she held onto her flesh healing wildshape, even though Mayael could no longer remember if she was elf or beast.
Archleon's flames spewed until only smoke billowed from his mouth. His prick, however, still hadn't finished unloading. Mayael could feel the pulsation of his shaft beneath the scales, the way the seed traveled to the tip beneath the surface right before it was unloaded. A pool of tacky white slime formed underneath her dangling feet, and Mayael's facial expression was frozen into the kind of ghastly, hang-jawed grimace normally only seen on the tortured undead.
"Yes..." Archleon chuckled, riles of smoke oozing from his nostrils as his scrotum emptied. "Yes... you are indeed a sacrifice worthy of the trouble."
The remark was not meant for the villagers. They were so far beneath his notice that Archleon might have actually forgotten they were even here. It didn't seem like he was talking to Mayael, either... his words were only for himself. Despite that, the scattered villagers huddled in their hamlets and homesteads, cringing back... no doubt feeling lucky. They were ants who had somehow managed to survive the anger of a god.
"Uuuuuuhhuuu..." Mayael moaned like a wounded animal, throat so hoarse that not even the scorching sensation inside her overstuffed cunt could summon any louder sounds. She might have survived, but she was utterly defeated... her dismal rape had sapped her strength and exhausted her to the bone. She hung limp from his claw, boneless... unlike the dragon. His orgasm had not slackened Archleon's erection in the slightest... The crimson-red cock remained as rigid as a piece of redwood, and Mayael remained impaled upon it, as incapable of getting off his pole as she would have been if she had been driven through with a knight's lance.
She was barely aware as Archleon spread his vast wings, filling the sky. He pumped them, wafting a cone of air throughout the modest square. After a few more strokes, his enormous bulk was rocketing upwards into the air. Mayael just hung limp upon his still stolid cock, mentally and physically inert as the great dragon took to the skies, leaving behind the cowering villagers and the burning houses.
As Archleon soared through the sky, his massive wings beating powerfully against the air, Mayael's consciousness flickered like a dying flame, her mind drifting in and out of awareness as she caught glimpses of the mountainside far below, its rugged beauty a stark contrast to her current torment. Mayael could see even the mightiest oaks and snow-capped mountains like tiny figurines meant as playthings for children. The cool air whipped around the druid, providing her some small relief from the heat radiating from the dragon's body. Mayael's body was a canvas of pain, her insides a churning mess of agony and humiliation. The dragon's grip on her tightened slightly, causing her to wince as fresh waves of pain radiated from where his cock was embedded deep within her.
Suddenly, without any warning, Archleon began to move again. His hips thrust forward, driving his cock deeper into Mayael's ravaged body. The sudden motion jolted her back to full consciousness, her eyes snapping open wide with renewed terror. She tried to scream, but her voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper, drowned out by the sound of the wind rushing past.
"You thought it was over, didn't you?" Archleon taunted, his voice a low growl that rumbled through his chest and into her body. "But I'm not done with you yet."
With each brutal thrust, Mayael's body convulsed in agony, feeling as if it were being torn apart anew. Suspended in mid-air, the vast expanse of the sky below her only amplified her sense of helplessness and vulnerability. Archleon's cock, thick with veins and covered in hard, unyielding scales, seemed to scrape against every inch of her ravaged insides. The sensation was excruciating, each scale a sharp reminder of her captivity. Her once-virginal pussy, now swollen and abused, clenched around him with a desperate tightness, making each movement more painful and sensitive than the last. The air rushed past her, cold against her fevered skin, contrasting sharply with the searing heat of the dragon's relentless penetration. Completely at Archleon's mercy, with no hope of escape or rescue, Mayael's world had shrunk to the relentless invasion of her body by the monstrous cock that impaled her, each thrust driving deeper into her shattered core.
Far below them, the druid watched the ground with a new thought in her head. With them so high in the skies, there was no chance she could even be freed from him. He wouldn't drop her. Up in this sky among the glittering stars and the glowing moon of Faerun, they rested above a thousand-foot drop to the rocky mountainside.
Mayael's mind screamed for release, for an end to the relentless assault on her body and spirit. But even as she wished for oblivion, her druidic instincts kicked in, forcing her to maintain the wildshape that kept her alive. It was a cruel irony that the very magic that sustained her life also ensured that she would continue to endure this torture.
"EEEEEEHHHHH!!!" Mayael screamed as loudly as she could, but the blaring of the wind drowned out her cry. It was strong enough to blow her hair backward like a flapping veil. Archleon kept holding onto her with one clutching hand during the flight. To him, a fuck at this altitude seemed a nonchalant thing. He could flap his enormous wings at regular intervals and pump his elf-holding hand without the slightest issue.
Archleon's hand motions were slower and more minuscule than they had been done back on the ground. He didn't seem to be fucking her especially brutally compared to what he could do... and despite that, even the mildest rape the dragon was capable of was devastation, a strenuous attack that utterly hollowed out the young elf's womanhood. Mayael was more exhausted than she ever had been, yet she had to cling to her shapeshifting power for a tiny bit longer.
Mayael saw the landscape pass beneath them in slow motion while being agonizingly screwed. The contrast between the awesome panoramic sight and her internal pain was stark. To the druid, it was like being confronted with two worlds at once. Part of her wished that she would be dropped and fall to a spectacular death rather than having to hang on in torment even further. Her voice was a croaking chorus of agony as she was sawed back and forth, subjected to the agonizing friction of being dragged across his cock. That was what constantly harried her psyche, threatening to break her protective shape-changing magic.
But no one was there to save her. No one could even see her. She lamented in absolute loneliness, isolated from any other living thing but her rapist... and that wasn't even the worst part. Archleon hadn't told her where they were headed... he hadn't needed to. The answer was obvious. They were returning to where she had escaped from... the lair of the great serpent. There, Mayael would become a prison in the den of evil she had come to cleanse...
Forever.
Archleon orgasmed in mid-flight with the same effortless ease with which he had fucked her before. Leftover spunk spurted from his enormous nutsack into her battered womb in huge obscene goblets. Just like before, the prodigious excess of this jizz sluiced straight outwards through the sides of her overpacked hole. As they soared onward, big dollops of chunky white slime rained down towards the earth. These splattered wads formed a trail in their wake strewn across the canopy and pines.
By then, Mayael was virtually knocked out. She could barely see or feel anything as Archleon slowed his wings, gliding down to the ground. Vaguely, she noticed that the Dragon had not taken them to the temple from whence they had invaded his domains. He had instead come in some kind of back entrance cave, a yawning black hole in the sheer cliff. From there, he descended into its hollow, knocking down a few hanging stalagmites in the process... taking his prisoner with him.
Other than that, Mayael's eyes refused to focus, and she failed to notice details or features as he crawled through the jagged grotto. Minions and servants didn't so much hail his arrival as they did flee from his presence like scurrying insects. She could only tell due to the panicky squealing they made as he prowled right by them.
Winding tunnels and descending pathways soon lead into the heart of Archleon's lair... deeper than she and her party had ever managed to go. It opened into a cavernous and high-roofed hollow perfectly suitable for such an enormous creature's place of dwelling. This was the stronghold they had failed to breach through strength of arms... and Mayael instead arrived here a prisoner.
Even while only semi-conscious, the druid couldn't fail to recognize that the floor wasn't made of stone... and that it glittered. Her eyes slowly swam into focus... the entire chamber was filled with treasure. Even someone like her who didn't especially care for gold or wealth was utterly dazzled by the sheer panorama of wealth and riches of the dragon's hoard. Distantly, Mayael thought of Maia, who had thought to make sure she wouldn't be cheated of her share. Her share? There was more here than even the mighty barbarian woman could have carried out in a lifetime of trips. The gold was piled inside Archleon's lair until resembling dunes of sand. The whole floor was covered in it like carpets. Strewn amidst the bullion and coinage were myriad gemstones of scintillating color. Mayael could recognize jaspers, sapphires, emeralds, beryl’s, topazes, amethysts, and lapis lazuli, alongside many other kinds that she could not name. Also present were many items of magical import. No doubt, these had been the regalia of previous adventurers and heroes the dragon had slain. With a horrified eye, Mayael noted that she could see Serina’s sword resting atop one other pile, and she assumed if she looked for longer she would find remnants of the rest of her friends.
There was so much it was overwhelming. All dragons delighted in the accruing of treasure... but judging by the contents of Archleon's plunder, he had been looting the coffers of many more places than just the rustic settlements across the Moonsea.
The dragon's hoard, however, also contained more than physical items. Strewn across the cavernous hollow before her were a collection of women. They lounged around in considerable numbers... Many were splayed nude across the gold as if merely part of the riches. Others were chained to the walls or to posts driven into the rock. Some wore translucent silk or armor that had been modified to leave them exposed. Without exemption, they were great beauties rivaling any of the cut gemstones...
And many of them had swollen bellies. Mayael was looking at the great serpent’s concubines.
Mayael's eyes flicked between them, trying to take in too many details from too many raped victims. One was a silver-haired, pale-skinned woman who seemed unexceptional save for her beauty until Mayael noticed the solitary horn erupting from her forehead... the dragon had enslaved a unicorn. Her eyes noted the druid briefly before returning downward, forlorn and lost. Another just a few feet away was a sullen, resentful demon, a succubus with candle-red skin and demon horns the color of the abyss. Her eyes glowed with rage, but she didn't resist, and she didn't object to the chains on her body. A third was an elf, and she looked at Mayael for a second before looking away and refusing to accept that she saw her even as the druid tried to meet her eyes... and with a shock like being struck by a bolt of lightning Mayael realized that she knew who the beautiful woman was. That was Princess Amayila, of the very forest she had been born in. The woman had been thought dead more than a thousand years ago! Many others were as well... a collection of races and skin tones too exotic for the sheltered druid to recognize.
To Mayael's extreme distress she noticed that many of them were in various stages of gravidity. The three she had noted first certainly were pregnant, their bellies swelled in sundry proportions with unholy progeny. These concubines were his breeders, the mother of his mongrelized bastards. Mayael couldn't help but remember the draconian features she had seen on the monsters making up the dragon's minions during their desperate battles, the scales and unnatural ridges decorating their already misshapen dimensions... and nor could she forget the more solid forms of the true Dragonspawn. Inside this harem, the Dragon had probably bred himself an entire Kingdom of slaves.
Unicorns were guardians of nature and fonts of hope. Demons were fierce, lethal dominators in an endless battle for hierarchy and status. The elf princess had had a legendarily kind heart. To see each of them so broken that they offered no resistance or mercy made it strike home harder than even her own rape had... The dragon was victorious, and Mayael had no more hope of defeating him than an ant had of defeating a boot.
Not one of the concubines so much as reacted to their Master's entrance. At most, they elevated their sunken, semi-lidded eyes to give long crestfallen glances towards Mayael which all but confirmed their spirits had been long since broken. To them, she was just more loot for the hoard. The newest of Archleon’s possessions.
Archleon stomped up to the nearest pile of gold. There he unsocketed Mayael off his cock - an excruciating process made all the more painful for the speed and disregard with which he did it - and tossed her onto the heap. The numbing agony of being liberated from his spearing dick was almost as bad as the process of being raped had been. As soon as she was dropped on that amalgamation of riches, Mayael curled up into a tiny ball, whimpering with unimaginable exhaustion and numbing hurt as she sobbed in misery and defeat.
Naked servants crawled over to her. These women weren't pregnant, she noted... they were probably tribute his horde had been paid that weren't of such exalted rank or not virgins and capable of being bred. Peasant girls and stray adventurers. They carried healing salves and ointments and applied them to her, parting her lips and forcing the druid to drink a minty liquid... probably some kind of healing potion.
As the healing potion took effect, warmth spread through Mayael's battered body, easing some of the pain and restoring a semblance of clarity to her mind. She lay there, partially buried in the glittering gold, watching Archleon with cautious eyes. The dragon was rummaging through his hoard, his massive form shifting piles of treasure as he searched for something specific.
Mayael's thoughts raced. The potion had given her a window of opportunity; she felt her strength returning, albeit slowly. Her druidic powers were well and truly drained, but they were still within her grasp. If she had time to rest, perhaps she could transform into something small and sneak away, making it to that cave entrance and out.
Slowly, however, the dragon's molten gaze turned back to her, and Mayael withered beneath the menace in that gaze. Archleon started nefarious chuckling, looking down at his newest accusation, his nostrils and chest flaring. "Right about now," he purred. "I imagine you are thinking about escape. About how you might be able to escape my notice and flee this place."
Archleon's eyes narrowed as he loomed over Mayael, his voice dripping with dark amusement. "The fishermen of the Moonsea tell stories about people like you," he began, his tone almost conversational. "Have you ever heard about what happens to crabs in a bucket?"
Mayael, still curled up and trembling, looked up at the dragon, her green eyes wide with fear and confusion.
"Crabs are clever creatures for being non-dragonic life. Cleverer than elves, certainly. Dexterous, too," Archleon continued, slowly flexing one of his wings. "The fishermen take them captive by simply tossing them into a bucket... just a small bucket. The bucket isn't deep enough that they shouldn't be able to pull themselves out... but they don't. And do you know why not?"
The dragon nudged his way forward, and Mayael could smell the sulfur on his breath. "The reason the crabs don't escape is that every crab, looking out for itself, is trying to do the same thing... and in the process, they all drag one another down. Each crab, in their own self interest, dooms all the rest."
He paused, allowing his words to sink in, his gaze never leaving Mayael's face. "You see, little druid... you are a crab in my bucket. You might be able to change your form and try to sneak away when I am distracted. After all, I have important things to do and important thoughts to think. I cannot be focused on elven cumrags all day long. You might escape my notice..." He looked around the room, and his teeth flashed in a grin. "But you will not escape all of theirs. And if I find you gone, I will punish each and every one of the women here severely enough that they will beg for death for letting you escape. Do you think they will let you go? Or will they ensure you are captured?"
These remarks drew further tears from Mayael's haggard eyes. They pooled in their corners before overflowing, sparkling and glittering even more enchantingly than Archleon's gemstones. The women around her were all staring at her, and the druid found that she didn't disbelieve a single word. Even if she could convince them to try to escape as well... she couldn't transform all of them into something small enough to avoid notice.
Archleon chuckled darkly, turning away from Mayael as if dismissing the conversation as unimportant... and thoroughly over. "Rest now," Archleon commanded in a sibilant, threating tone. "Recover. You think that you can never recover from this, but I have faith in your body’s worth… and tomorrow is another day. I have great plans for somebody as... nubile as you."
Mayael remembered the swollen bellies of the other concubines. Her womb had been so mutilated by his violation she hadn't been thinking that a child could take... but the reality before her now contradicted that assumption with bone-chilling proof. At that realization, the leftover semen splurged inside her uterus felt more defiling than ever.
"Yes... Greaaaat plaaaaans," Archleon hissed while continuing to chuckle, his amber-glowing eyes bearing into Mayael’s loins. "Until I am certain your belly is full, you will be the full focus of my attention. It is only the fact that I suspect it would kill you for me to take you again right now that keeps my cock from your womb once more."
Mayael wanted to ask about the safety of her sister. Of her adventurous companions. But she didn't... she was too exhausted to ask due to the taxing rape and wildshape... and she feared the answers would do absolutely nothing to comfort her.
Archleon grinned, looking at her like a wolf about to eat his kill. "You have a few hours to recover. Then we shall see if you are still tight enough to please me, druid. For your sake, I hope your powers of recovery are exceptional... otherwise, I might need to get more creative.
Mayael fervently prayed that he did not. A flood of tears erupted from her eyes as she sank into an uncomfortable pile of golden coins, and she sobbed for her lost life... and her future of misery.
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