Kyrrai is roughly and lustfully pounded by the wyrin, Drogoz…
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Kyrrai sweated heavily, the training area around him and Drogoz the wyrin familiar. His muscles ached, black hair hanging across his face, though that was merely as it had come loose from where he’d had it tied back. His trainer and master, Drogoz, grinned widely, thought the dragon-type wyrin had, to be fair to him, warmed to Kyrrai over the last year. That was something, at least, though Kyrrai had not thought that he would get anything more from the wyrin than a huge piece of meat under his tail, fucked raw until sunrise.
“Not bad,” Drogoz rumbled, inclining his blocky horns. “But you still cannot defeat me.”
It was stated cockily, as if it was still a triumph to the dragon to take his win in every battle. Kyrrai could not remember a time when he had won, though that was why he was in training under Drogoz. The wyrin with his anthro-type body and huge, cannonball shoulders boasted far more prowess that, honestly, he thought he could ever own. But he was willing to try, especially when he was serving under the dragon, fucking every night, grunting, moaning, his arse now willingly accepting the wyrin.
“But your training must continue if you are to be of any use to me,” Drogoz added quickly, as if that tiny hint of praise he had given, merely the shadow of what it could have been, had been too much as it was. “You would be a hindrance in a real battle…”
Of course, even though he’d made decent progress as a fighter, Kyrrai knew that that was all he was going to get out of Drogoz. Yet he knew too what the wyrin meant as he licked his chops wetly, his large, blocky jaw swinging back and forth lightly, so slightly that only someone who knew him intimately could have honestly told what it meant.
But Kyrrai knew as he was dragged down over an empty spear rack that the training session was ending just the way that he wanted it to, his arse in the air, the wood of the rack pressing into his lower abdomen, just in front of his hips.
“Oh, fuck…”
Drogoz rumbled a growl, but the wyrin did not ask permission to fuck him, pushing over the man’s body with his own, a thick bulge grinding into Kyrrai’s arse. The man’s head swam, light-headed at best, his cloth training trousers ripped down, the dragon’s cock, somehow, already slopping out, hardening rapidly as the monster of his shaft throbbed for attention. Kyrrai would have whimpered if he had not been more concerned with dragging air into his lungs, a stone wall before him, the empty arena with staged seating in tiers rising behind. They might have been alone for the moment, but there was no telling if anyone would walk in on them.
If they did, they would fear Drogoz’ wrath, the wyrin hissing viciously, head snaking back and forth as he greedily ground his hard, aching shaft over the man’s rump.
“Consider this…unff…” Drogoz grunted, not one to spare too many words. “This…your reward.”
Any words that Kyrrai may have had in return for him were lost in a groan, however, as the dragon penetrated him, sliding in firmly, surely, even if it was not easy at all for either of them. A cock like that still demanded quite a stretch, their boots scuffing and churning up the dirt of the arena, the dragon snarling and grunting as he used the weight of his body to “brute force” his way in. Of course, Kyrrai was more than amenable, any initial twinges of pain from the strain of taking the beast once again fading quickly, leaving his body hot and ready, prickling with a very special kind of need.
He would have rocked back if he’d been able to, his head half against the wall, rough stone grazing his cheek, yet he was pinned where he was, stomach aching from the wood of the rack he was bent over. It was not something at all suited to what they were using it for, his trousers trapped between his thighs, stopping him from spreading his legs further, but it gave Kyrrai more stability than he would have had otherwise. Dwarfed by the dragon, he moaned and whimpered, breathy cry after cry breaking his lips, yet it was not as if he was not willing. On the contrary, he might have skipped the entire training session and gotten straight to the hot fuck, to being used and abused, at the end if he’d thought he could get away with it. To his chagrin, however, Drogoz was a diligent taskmaster in more ways than one.
The dragon hissed and snarled, tongue lashing out against the side of his muzzle, eyes flashing with greed. Yes, he would have the human, the man under his care, though the servant that Kyrrai was to him was useful, if not on the battlefield. His arse clenched tightly around the wyrin as he thrust and thrust, the man a part of his hoard, intent on his pleasure as he relished in the attention that a living, breathing member of his hoard could give him. There were only so many riches, after all, to be had in the world that were not of flesh and blood. And Drogoz had learned that a good, tight arse was to be held in high regard too.
Not that he would tell that to Kyrrai as he powered into him, snarling at just how tightly the man was able to squeeze around his dick. It was charming, almost, how hard the human was willing to go to give him pleasure, though Drogoz would never tell him that. Not even as he crushed Kyrrai’s head half to the wall with his huge claw, hips working, pumping, the smack of his scaled hips rising to fill the air as he slapped his servant’s arse with every stroke.
Kyrrai moaned and moaned, yet he was more than where he wanted to be as his head spun and spun, languishing in ecstasy, grunting in the back of his throat, that spear ploughing through him. Dimly, he was aware that he was close to orgasm, yet not so close to climax that he was going to beat out the wyrin’s seed as it flooded him. The dragon must have been more randy than Kyrrai had expected, the scent of his sweaty body ripe for the fucking, slamming in with shorter, harder strokes than ever, grinding Kyrrai forward into the wall with every thrust.
Yet the drake was not there to hold back in the slightest as he let out his loudest, most belly-aching roar yet, spilling his load proudly into the human member of his hoard, his greatest treasure. That was just why he was not shy about fucking Kyrrai at the training arena, though the dragon knew that others would stay away, fearing his wrath if he was disturbed in the middle of breeding his servant and trainee. He slammed in, thrusting through his orgasm, brutally spreading the man’s arse as Kyrrai shuddered weakly, hips twitching as if he was trying to rock back and yet didn’t have the energy to do so anymore.
“Mmmph…”
Kyrrai’s head spun, barely aware of Drogoz dragging him back and away from the wall, limp in his arms, far too happy in the moment to complain about anything. But he did mumble when the dragon’s cock was drawn from his arse, leaving a messy cream-pie in its wake.
“Mmmm…”
Drogoz grinned, resting his human on his front, but only briefly. For Kyrrai was left to scrabble as his legs were grabbed and hitched up over the wyrin’s shoulders, Drogoz nuzzling and lapping all over his arse, tongue slithering into the mess that was his anal ring. Kyrrai gasped, bracing his hands on the ground as if he was doing a handstand, though he was kept in place by the might of the dragon, Drogoz’ claws gripping him tightly.
His head pounded, cock aching, spurting – he couldn’t hold back! With Drogoz’ tongue in his arse, dipping in and out, messily eating out his own cream from Kyrrai’s backside, the man climaxed hard. Sticky ropes of seed splattered forth, though they only gave the appearance of going further than they usually would due to his position, hips hefted in the air, marking the dirt where they had been practising only a short time ago. Yet his heart pounded, the slurp and squelch of Drogoz’ tongue pushing and dragging back and forth within his arse filling the air. It was impossible to miss even as Kyrrai let loose his own weaker load, for there was far, far more wyrin cum to eat out from his arse than what he could produce.
And the dragon intended to get every last drop of it, slurping and teasing, running his tongue around the ring of Kyrrai’s backside, his cock still hard and throbbing. There would surely be another round between them to come to sate the wyrin’s need, but Drogoz took pleasure in other things too, of snapping up what he believed to be rightfully his as if there should never have been any question in it to begin with. The man’s well-used, stretched out rump was delicious at the best of times, closing his jaws over most of Kyrrai’s backside in a gesture of dominance, but he would take it even more eagerly when Kyrrai was slick and messy with his cream.
The man moaned and grunted, arms aching from bracing himself in such a position, shoulders trying to round and hunch, even if that was not quite possible. His loins ached in a different way as if he was going to cum again, the drake’s tongue curling and flicking up in a slurp of sexual fluids against his prostate. He would not have known it was there if not for the belly-juddering twist of pleasure there, a strange sort of pressure that had Kyrrai gasping and groaning, need renewed even though his cock was soft. His cock, after all, did not have to be hard for him to be turned on…
“Mmmm… I don’t have to fuck you as hard just to get your arse to open up around me. You’re getting looser.”
Whereas Kyrrai did not think that was quite true, he whimpered as he was let back down to the ground, turned around, Drogoz hefting him up in his arms, facing him. Kyrrai’s legs dangled, shorter than Drogoz, though he could not do anything as the dragon forced him into a deep kiss. Kyrrai groaned, wriggling a little, though the “reward” of Drogoz’ cum being shared with him was one that would have had him thrusting and grinding if he’d still had the energy to do so, sapped in his afterglow. The dragon’s tongue invaded his mouth, filling it dominantly, not accepting anything less than Kyrrai’s best as he slurped and moaned, sharing his own cum with his human, forcing Kyrrai to take it all down.
It was dirty and it was kinky and, in that moment it was everything that it needed to be and more, slick cream sliding down Kyrrai’s throat as he sank deeper and deeper into submission. The cum that had only just been pounded up his backside drooled and dripped down his throat as his dominant fed it to him, his submission complete – yet it was all still very much a fair trade (even better for it) with the training he received otherwise.
Deeper and deeper, the wyrin kissed him fiercely, though there was no love in the embrace, only lust. Lust and a deep inclination for dominance, to brashly and boldly snatch up what was his – and the human was his, something to be marked and claimed for all to see. Weakly, Kyrrai tried to press up against the wyrin, but the dominant party was evident. He’d claimed his human and laid his mark on him once again, his hard shaft grinding urgently up against Kyrrai, demanding more.
And what the wyrin wanted, he always got…
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ravqx6/of_domination_felching_mm_dragonwyrin_x_human