> Ember-acing the Dragon > by Hivemind > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > A New Purpose > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The mountain goat’s last, fleeting struggles were finally over. His was a quick death, lasting no more than a few seconds, as Ember’s enormous talons sunk deeper into his skin, skewering flesh, cracking bone, shredding organs. She felt the thrumming of his heart gradually slowing, until the last spark of life left his slitted, yellow eyes. She huddled over the freshly-slain creature, sweeping her wings inward to cover the corpse, and keep away the whirling torrents of snow and ice. Even with her hide of thick, blue scales they still stung like the needles of a porcupine. It reminded her of the last time she ate one, and how much she regretted it afterward. They made for a tasty snack, to be sure, and easy prey was nothing to be complaining about. Meat was meat, and any animal, like the goat she was now tearing into, forfeited their lives the moment they left themselves exposed. The tender wash of warm blood and hearty goat flesh filled her with delight. It felt good to hunt for herself. Until the day she left her parent’s nest, huddled against her eleven other brothers and sisters, all she had to sustain herself with were scraps, if anything at all. When her mother returned with a cow between their teeth at feeding time, she was often the odd one out, and never by choice. Her whelphood knew only pain and neglect as her larger, and even more agile siblings forced her out of the pile, leaving her to snatch ribbons of flesh left dangling whenever they struggled to engulf a generous mouthful of meat. There was nothing she could do about it either. She was a runt in every form of the word. It was likely a miracle one of her siblings hadn’t swallowed her whole. There was no such thing as kinship among dragons. Meat was meat, after all. She did not need her brothers, sisters, or her parents. Food. Strength. Power—that was what she needed. It called to her from the north, atop the highest mountains, where few dragons dared to claw out their lairs. That was almost thirty years ago, and the decision to leave the nest was the best she had ever made. Game was plentiful here, and she got used to the cold in no time at all. On occasion, a clawful of ponies, hikers or some other roving band, would happen upon her territory. She kept her distance, and they kept theirs. Long ago, her only ambition was to find her next meal. If there was anything she learned from spiteful reek that was her family, it was this: strength could not be ignored. She was on the small side, for an adult dragon, but nonetheless deadly. Feared. Respected. She found her place. She never hungered again. Ember stopped eating. A distant roaring, deep and guttural, echoed on the wind. A lesser creature would have already ducked and ran, but no dragon worth their hoard would even dare to consider running away, but that didn’t mean she had to stand and fight. She huddled low to the ground, brushing her outstretched wings into the snow for camouflage, laying as flat as her body would allow. She did not look up. There was nothing for her to see anyway, not in this blizzard. She would wait however long she needed to for the danger to pass her by. Where there was one, there would likely be more. A mighty roar exploded overhead. Ember snapped her head up, but it was too late. The herald of her doom had arrived, descending from the air like a meteor, wide, powerful wings outstretched, cloaking her in a shadow of death. It crashed on top of her, pining the dragoness beneath its enormous bulk, its deafening roar cutting through the air. Ember whipped her neck around, jaws outstretched, teeth raring to rend the head from her attacker’s neck. But her attack never arrived. Her combatant’s fanged maw came down upon her neck first. They held her down, forcing her body into the snow. Ember roared with pain as she thrashed her entire body around, hoping that, by some miracle, she could throw them off her and buy her time to escape. But her attacker seemed to have plans of their own. They stopped moving, but kept her held firmly in place. Ember’s struggles continued for several minutes more, draining her energy to the last drop. She never thought her life would end this way, but there was nothing she could do about it now. So, she laid still, waiting for the end to arrive. Her attacker released their hold on her neck, then nosed her over, flipping her onto her back. Her wings were splayed out against the snow, and her breaths came and went in rapid pants. It was in this new position that Ember was given a clearer look at the one who dove upon her. A male dragon, but of course he was. Not even Ember’s innate ferocity could stand up to his overwhelming strength. He had remained in complete control of the brief struggle throughout. It made her shudder to think how quickly he could have killed her, if he wanted. He was a true mountain of muscle, bulging through a layer of black scales. His wings alone were as long as her entire body. Numerous horns sprouted from the top of his head, curling backwards into a row of spikes that flowed down the center of his back. What in the wide world was someone like him doing way up here in the northern mountains? Shouldn’t he be off somewhere else, perhaps incinerating entire villages? More importantly, why wasn’t she dead yet? He opened his mouth wide, a wicked line of teeth splitting his face in two, and craned his head down toward her neck again. This had to be it. Her end was here. Maybe he just enjoyed watching his prey cower in fear before he ate them. Ember shut her eyes, powerless to resist as the death knell drew near. She felt a warm and slimy sensation travel up the side of her neck. A final tasting perhaps, before the main course? The dragoness tentatively opened her eyes. She watched as he dragged his long, forked tongue along her scales, marking her with the potent scent of his saliva. In time, the meaning of the gesture came crashing down on her like an avalanche. Ember had seen coupling dragons groom each other this way. And nothing could outrun a dragon’s nostrils. Ember looked away, hiding her face from him, but there he was, nudging her chin with his snout. Her gaze darted back up at him. She could see it in his eyes. Bold, powerful, patient. She had been chosen as his mate. Her outlook on her situation had gone through countless changes in the last few minutes, but this was the strangest of them all, but maybe...that was okay. Ember tended to shrug off her annual heat cycle, but it seemed that the natural order of things wouldn’t accept her decision this time. As she continued to lay there on the snowy ground, at the mercy of her captor, she got a good glance at his tender underbelly. Her eyes widened as she stared at his emerging member, marvelling at the sight of it. It did more than grow; it evolved into a wonder all its own. Fleshy barbs protruded from beneath his pointed tip, with the outline of an enormous bulb of flesh clearly visible through the softer skin. Entranced by the sight, she could only lie there and gaze at it, in awe at the sheer enormity of it. She bent her tail underneath him, snaking it along his underbelly until she wrapped it around his engorged dick. The male let out a huff at the strange sensation, but as far as Ember was concerned she would make him allow it. It continued to expand, ballooning in size. It dribbled some primordial, silvery ooze that sizzled when it dripped to the snow below. His posture did not change, not even to accommodate the shrinking space between his member and her body. Ember continued to stroke his shaft, drinking his musk from the air, solidifying her desire to be bred by this beast. To know he had chosen her... He must have noticed the changing look in her eyes. When he did, he thrust himself forward, grinding the thick head of his member into her stomach, smearing its ooze onto her underbelly. Ember loosed a low groan, her toes curling as she relished in the burning sensation. Unconsciously, her hind legs shifted and spread further apart. Her mate-to-be didn’t miss a single beat, continuing to swing back and forth, grinding his uniquely molded shaft against the scaly folds of her cloaca, fuming with an intense heat. Her entire body twisted and turned, pleasure rattling her scales as she gladly submitted to his advances. She couldn’t stop a smile from twisting her lips as she raised her hips, mashing his cock against his stomach. It wouldn’t fit. There was absolutely no way it would fit. It would sooner split her in half than fit into her with any reasonable level of comfort. Even her tail was struggling to keep itself wrapped around it as it grew even larger, but she couldn’t have cared less at this point. For decades, her focus had remained purely on survival, but now she couldn’t imagine going another moment without letting this leviathan tear right into her. She wanted to be his mate. She wanted his children. She would make it fit. Ember reached up and wrapped her forelegs around his neck, trusting that he knew what he had to do. She gasped as she felt his turgid warmth press firmly into her, the head of his length alone, practically as big as the goat she had for dinner, just barely squeezing inside her. An equal mixture of pain and pleasure shot through her, her virgin canal straining to accommodate him. She brushed a clawed foot along his neck, groaning softly. Her feral pussy tried in vain to squeeze him out of her, but neither of them were taking “no” for an answer. Ember coiled her tail around his base, squeezing and tugging his cock by the veiny orb that was his knot. Her mate barked and roared as he pulled out and rammed back in, time and again, slowly carving out a space inside her for his massive dick to fit in to. Ember was already lost in her own world of ecstacy, roaring as each powerful thrust sent a cascade of primordial desire through her. His face was nowhere near as expressional as hers, but she was surprised to notice some level of uncertainty. He thrusts were infrequent, and dare she believe...inexperienced. She had no experience of her own, but...surely she wasn’t his first? Honestly, she felt a little hopeful, like the idea of leading him into this sort of passion for the first time was something she could enjoy. Perhaps he was just out of practice, but she didn’t mind either way. She was wholly content with guiding him in little, unseen ways. A little adjustment here, a moan of praise there. At last, the literal boulder that was his knot was all that was left out in the cold, but Ember was already fulfilled. She was brave, but not stupid. She could see the distentions left in her gut, the contours of his cock poking through her stretched underbelly. But she was given little time to rest, and her lover had run low on patience. He resumed his thrusts in earnest, shutting his eyes tightly as her dragoness pussy continued to try and shut him out. The sounds of his wet underbelly colliding with her own filled the air. The way the sun shone in the sky, through the snow, made her skin glisten like crystal. He began pounding into her with fervor, his knot slamming into her with the force of a tidal wave. Ember’s eyes rolled back into her head as her whole body tensed, squeezing him even tighter than before. She hadn’t expected him to last this long, but he continued to amaze her by proving her wrong. She felt something take hold of her, and she snapped her jaws around his neck, squeezing tightly. He didn’t seem to mind, as he gave a powerful roar, thrusting into her hard and fast. She tried to force out the inevitability of her climax however she could, but the feeling of his knot slamming against her entrance was unbearable. He slammed home one final time, but wait...no... He’s trying to... No, no! Ember shut her eyes, squeezing his neck in her jaws as hard as she could. There was no way he could— Ember’s eyes snapped back open. She went quiet, barely breathing, as her mate celebrated his victory, finishing inside her, knot and all. His white-hot seed drenched her insides, filling her wrecked innards to the brim. Her body went completely numb, sending her head and neck crashing back into the snow. Her innards tightened around him, welcoming him all over again as her own orgasm rushed through her. Sparks of pleasure followed with his every spurt, and there were many of them. They seeped past his knot and drooled onto her thighs, bathing her rump in ample, steaming excess. He glanced at her, and for the first time a genuine look of concern flashed in his expression. He nudged Ember’s head. She responded with a soft smile, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, helping her acclimate to the pain brought on by his passion. They remained there for a long time, waiting for his member to deflate, before he was able to pull out. Like popping a cork, his juices went everywhere. Gallons of it poured out onto the snow, pooling around her rump and tail. Her whole body is left feeling sore, but infinitely satisfied. She felt pride. She felt power. She belonged to him. But Ember wasn’t done yet. Deciding to be a little more bold, she managed to roll onto her stomach, savoring the way his seed sloshed around in her belly. Her mate gave her somewhat of a puzzled look, but she gave him one right back, as if to say “We’re not done until I say we are.” She sent him another smile, then craned her head forward towards his groin. She gave it a gentle lick with her tongue, lapping up some of his leftover cum. It twitched in response, another spurt splattering on her face. His scent was pungent; raw. It became harder to breathe. Without a moment to waste, she slid her lips over his cock, her clawed toes curling reflexively. Her mate braced himself as her lengthy tongue trailed over his every feature, greedily suckling from the tip like milk from a cow’s teat. Such a move was dangerous for any ordinary dragon with so many teeth involved, but Ember was anything but an ordinary dragon. She pressed her snout into the crook of his stretched cloaca, breathing deeply of his scent like a fine ambrosia. She could smell his will to dominate, and take whatever he pleased. Suffice to say, she would be honored to mother his whelps. He seemed to finish a second time, dumping another hot, heady load down her throat. It wasn’t as much as his first, but it was still too much for her handle all at once. His release forced her off of him, leaving the rest of it to wildly spray everywhere, over her wings and back. She is quick to rear her head up again, though, just in time to catch the last vestiges of his cum on her cheeks. Ember brushed the tip of her tail along her mate’s muzzle. He responded by brushing against it, but nothing else. She watched as his chest heaved, and felt the steam blowing from his nostrils. He grunted, shakily. Ember didn’t think it was possible, but he was clearly spent. He flopped onto his side, allowing her to huddle close to him, pressing her head into the crag of his neck as their afterglow shone like a second sun. There they remained, bound together by the threads of circumstance. Soft mewling echoed throughout the cave. Ember gently lifted her wing. Her clutch, seven in all, were fast asleep, dreaming peacefully. The dragoness shifted, coiling her head and neck around them. Days of starvation strained her patience, but she’d sooner throw herself off a mountain than consider the unthinkable. The harsh beating of wings against air drew her attention. She heard her hatchlings mewl again, then felt the nipping of their tiny jaws against her belly. A hard crash followed on its heels. She darted her head toward the cave entrance, where her mate was lumbering in, the still bleeding corpse of a freshly slain steer held daintily between his teeth. Ember smiled. One of her hatchlings slipped free from under her wing. The rest were quick to follow, scurrying across the floor. The kill fell to the floor with a hard, wet thud. Ember counted the heads as they feasted. Six. Someone was missing. She lifted her wing again. There he was. Dark blue, and as small as they came. The little one shivered in fear. He did not want to go out, not where his siblings could push him away. Ember huffed and rose to her feet, picking him up in her mouth by the nape of his neck. She then trundled over to the dining pile, cleared a gap by brushing some of her children aside with her snout, and set him down within it. He turned back to her, hesitant. She nudged him forward, and nodded.