The word came anyway. In her mind. Unbidden. The word that he had used. In the cave. The word that she had heard — not with her ears, with her body. The word that her body had responded to. The word that her body was responding to now.
She was a bitch.
His bitch.
He climbed.
Onto the bed. His body — normal-sized, human, small compared to hers — was on the silk. Between her legs. His cock — still hard, still wet, still enlarged — was against her pussy. Against the wet, swollen, post-orgasmic pussy.
He grabbed her hips.
His hands on her scaled hips. His fingers on the sea-blue scales. He held. He positioned. He angled.
He slammed.
PAAAH—
"AAAAHH—!!"
The cock went in. Deep. To the cervix. The impact. The head against the sensitive, sore, post-orgasmic cervix. The pleasure — the overstimulated, too-much, almost-painful pleasure — hit.
"Hahh... n-no... t-too much... I just... c-came... I cannot... AAANGH—!!"
He did not stop.
PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAHH—!! HNNNGHH—!! KYAAANGH—!! HAAAAANGHH—!! NNGHH—!! HIEKKK—!! AAAANGHH—!! HNNNGHH—!!"
The sounds. The moans. The screams. The broken, shattered, pornographic sounds of a dragon being fucked. Not gently. Not lovingly. Hard. Fast. Deep. The way a bitch is fucked. The way a woman is fucked when the man does not care about her comfort. Does not care about her pleasure. Does not care about anything except — his own.
’Hahh... his cock... it is... so deep... every thrust... right there... right on my... womb... I cannot... I cannot think... I cannot... remember my name... I cannot... remember... anything... except his cock...’
Her internal thoughts. Gone. Shattered. The mind of a dragon. The mind that had ruled an empire. The mind that had commanded armies. Reduced to — cock. To the cock inside her. To the thrust. To the impact. To the pleasure.
"My lord—!! Hahh... p-please... I... my body... c-cannot... AAANGH—!!"
"Call me master," he said.
His voice was steady. The thrust did not stop. The rhythm did not change. The command — the instruction, the order — was given between thrusts. Between the PAH PAH PAH—.
"M-Master—!!" she screamed. The word — the word that no Empress had ever spoken, the word that no dragon had ever used — came. From her mouth. From her throat. From the place that had commanded armies. "M-Master... p-please... your cock... i-it is... t-too... HAAANGH—!!"
PAAH PAAH PAAAH—
"AAAAAHH—!! M-MASTER—!! I... I AM... C-CUMMING... AGAIN... AAANGH—!!"
She came again.
The second orgasm. Harder than the first. The walls clamped. The tail whipped. The claws tore the silk. The bed shook. The scream — the dragon’s scream, the scream that cracked marble and shattered windows — filled the room.
He did not stop.
He fucked her through the orgasm. Through the contractions. Through the clenching. Through the screaming. His cock — still hard, still thrusting — moved. In and out. The friction — the walls clamping, the muscles contracting — was intense. The pleasure — for him — was building. The pressure. The heat. The tightness of a dragon’s pussy around a cock that was made to fit.
He pulled out.
The cock emerged. Wet. Slick. The juice — the dragon’s juice, the clear, thin fluid — ran down the shaft. The head — dark, swollen — dripped. He flipped her.
Over. Onto her stomach. Her face in the silk. Her ass in the air. The massive, scaled ass. The thick, heavy cheeks. The tail — limp, exhausted — hanging.
Her pussy was visible.
From behind. The lips — swollen, red, the hair matted, the juice dripping — were there. The opening — the vaginal opening, the canal that had been fucked — was open. Gaping. The walls visible. Pink. Wet. The cervix — deep within — was visible. Red. Swollen. Sore.
He grabbed her tail.
His hand on the base. The thick, scaled base. The root. The place where the tail met the spine. The place that the system had identified — ’tail base sensitivity’ — as a weakness.
He squeezed.
"AAAAHH—!!"
The scream. Different. Higher. Sharper. The sensation — the pressure on the tail base, the nerve cluster, the bundle of sensitive tissue — was — electric. The pleasure shot. From the tail. Up the spine. Through the body. To the brain. To the pussy. The connection — the tail to the pussy, the nerve link, the biological pathway — was direct. The squeeze on the tail made the pussy clench.
"You are sensitive here," he said.
His voice was amused. The voice of a man who has found a button and who is pressing it.
"N-No... d-do not... t-there... i-it makes... m-my pussy... HAAH—!!"
He squeezed again.
"AAAAHH—!! M-MASTER... I-IT... I AM... C-CUMMING... J-JUST FROM... MY TAIL... AAANGH—!!"
She came.
The third orgasm. From the tail. Not from the pussy. Not from the clit. From the tail base. The squeeze. The pressure. The nerve cluster. The orgasm — the full-body, pussy-clenching, tail-base orgasm — erupted. Her pussy — which was not being touched — clenched. Spasmed. The juice — the clear fluid — squirted. From the empty pussy. Onto the silk.
"Hahh... hahh... how... is this... possible..." she whimpered. Her face was in the silk. Her tears were on the fabric. Her body was shaking. The orgasm — the third, the tail-induced — had broken something. A wall. A barrier. A defense.
He slammed.
His cock — back inside. In one thrust. Deep. To the cervix.
PAAAH—
"AAAAAAAAHHH—!!"
The scream. The combination — the tail squeeze and the cock slam — was too much. The double stimulation. The tail and the pussy. The two pleasure points. The two weaknesses. Hit simultaneously.
"MASTER—!! MASTER—!! I... I CANNOT... I... MY BODY... IS... IS YOURS... AAANGH—!!"
The words. The confession. The surrender. The thing that he wanted. The thing that he had been working toward. The words — ’my body is yours’ — spoken by an Empress. By a dragon. By a being who had ruled for a hundred years. By a woman who had never submitted.
Submitting.
PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH PAH—
"AAAAHH—!! HNNNGHH—!! KYAAANGH—!! HAAAAANGHH—!! NNGHH—!! HIEKKK—!! AAAANGHH—!! HNNNGHH—!! M-MASTER—!! M-MASTER—!! M-MASTER—!!"
The moans. The screams. The broken, shattered, pornographic sounds. The word — ’master’ — repeated. Over and over. With each thrust. With each impact. The word that was not a word anymore. The word that was a sound. A moan. A prayer.
’He is... my master... my body... is his... I... I have never... felt... this... never... in a hundred years... never... his cock... is everything... the king... the empire... the army... nothing... nothing compared to this... to him... to his cock...’
Her internal thoughts. Gone. Collapsed. The mind of an Empress. The mind that had ruled the seas. The mind that had commanded storms. Reduced to — cock. To master. To the thrust. To the pleasure.
He grabbed her hair.
The silver-blue hair. The long, flowing hair. His hand went to the strands. He grabbed. A fistful. He pulled. Her head came back. Her neck arched. Her back curved. Her breasts — the massive mounds — lifted from the bed. The nipples — dark, stiff — pointed at the ceiling.
"Whose are you?" he said.
The question. The same question. The one he had asked Revaone. The claim. The statement. The words that defined. That placed. That owned.
"YOURS—!!" she screamed. The word — the scream — was torn from her. From the place that the cock was hitting. From the cervix. From the womb. From the place that was — his. "I AM YOURS—!! MY LORD—!! MY MASTER—!! I AM... YOURS... AAANGH—!!"
He slammed.
PAAAH PAAAH PAAAH—
The final thrusts. The deepest. The hardest. The cock — to the hilt, the head in the womb — throbbed. The shaft pulsed. The head swelled.
He came.
The load — thick, hot, white, the seed of a being whose mana was oceanic — flooded her. The womb — the dragon’s womb, the chamber that held the egg, the space that he had already claimed — filled. The semen — the same semen that had fertilized the egg two days ago — poured. Pulse after pulse. The excess — the overflow — ran out. Around the shaft. Down the lips. Down the hair. Onto the silk. The white fluid — his seed — in the dark hair. On the pink flesh. On the scaled thighs.
"AAAAAAHHH—!! HAAANGH—!! M-MASTER... YOUR... SEED... I CAN... FEEL IT... INSIDE... MY WOMB... HAAH—!!"
Her body convulsed. The final orgasm. The biggest. The walls clamped. The tail whipped. The claws tore. The silk ripped. The bed broke. The marble — the floor beneath the bed — cracked. The orgasm — the dragon’s orgasm, the orgasm of a being whose power could level cities — shook the room.
And the room — the palace, the city, the night — held the sound.
The scream of an Empress.
The moan of a dragon.
The surrender of a being who had ruled for a hundred years.
To a man.
To a master.
To a cock.
The fog — the visible breath, the dragon’s breath, the steam from her mouth — hung in the air. White. Dense. The heat of her body. The heat of the sex. The heat of the mana. The room was filled with it. The smell — of sex, of cum, of dragon, of woman, of man, of mana — hung.
He pulled out.
The cock emerged. Wet. Slick. The dragon’s blood — from the still-healing cervix — and the dragon’s juice and his seed. The mixture. On the shaft. On the head. Dripping.
He looked at her.
The Empress. The dragon. The woman. On the broken bed. In the torn silk. Her body — bare, scaled, massive, powerful — was limp. Her face was in the silk. Her hair was spread. Her tail was still. Her legs were apart. Her pussy — the hairy, swollen, well-fucked pussy — was leaking. His seed. Running. From the opening. Down the lips. Through the hair. Onto the silk.
Her eyes were closed.
Her mouth was open.
Her breathing was ragged. "Hahh... hahh... hahh..."
The breathing of a woman who has been fucked into unconsciousness. Who has orgasmed until her body gave out. Who has — surrendered. Completely. Totally. Irreversibly.
"My lord..." she whispered. The last words. Before the darkness took her. "My master... I am... yours..."
She passed out.
Raven stood.
By the bed. Naked. His cock — still hard, still wet — caught the moonlight. The silver light from the windows. The ocean — visible through the glass — was calm. The waves were gentle. The night was quiet.
He looked at the Empress.
The dragon. The ruler. The woman who had commanded the seas and controlled the storms and ruled the greatest human nation. Lying on a broken bed. In torn silk. Her pussy leaking his seed. Her body marked. Her mind — broken.
He smiled.
The smile was thin. The smile of a man who has claimed a dragon. Who has taken an Empress. Who has — added another woman to his collection.
The system popped.
[Target Claimed: Empress Seraphina of Valdoria]
[Status: Corrupted]
[New Abilities Available for Extraction: Storm Calling, Hydrokinesis, Dragon Transformation]
[Note: Fertilization confirmed. Royal Dragon Egg developing.]