January 1, 2015

Genesis -- A Friday Fantasy Free Read

Wizards have been the co-conspirators of dragons from the very beginning...
For in the beginning, the lords of nature looked upon the first dragons—immortal creatures, divine in their way, and dangerous under the wrong circumstances—and forbade the breeding of more. The first seven dragons were bound by Green Man's law never to entwine, and give rise to new undying beasts. They were divided, each to their own realm, separated by mirrors wrought of glass and green beryl, magic mirrors warded so dragons might never cross them.

"So they might never touch..."
The dragoness Sarayana—naked in her soft human form—lay out over the hot stone floor of her cavern. She sprawled, arms stretched out to her sides, palms up; her slender ankles crossed, toes pointing south. Her lithe black tail curled idly as she whispered the old legend, the first story of her kind.
Silver smoke drifted about her, close to the ground. She lay within the circular confines of the wizard's pentacle carved into the stone. Brass bowls sat at each of the five points of the star bound within the ring. These were where the silver vapors came from, filling the space with scents of wild, sultry incense. The smoke contained entheogens—nostrums and herbs meant for opening the mind to visions. Between the points of the star—except where lay her legs—four wooden bowls were stationed, each containing an elemental token: water drawn from the deepest, coldest pool beneath this very cavern; a smoldering coal; the feather of a wild sea hawk, from a nest on the cliffs above; a blunt shard of green beryl.
Her wizard, Brennan, sat in lotus position at the edge of the circle, at her toes. Palms lifted before him, he was steadying his breathing; preparing his own mind and spirit. Like she, he was naked. She'd already prepared his body: before the lamps were lit and the incense burning, she'd watched his beautiful cock swell and grow at the warm, slow touch of her hands, until it jutted up stiff and proud from the curls of dark hair between his legs. While she'd stroked him, he'd done the same for her, warming and blessing her pale white breasts and tiny pink nipples with his palms, thumbs, soft little pinches, until the tiny peaks stiffened and ached for more. That brief pleasure, that heated anticipation, kindled the first sparks of the magiks between them, before they had even shaped their circle of elements and lines.
"So, the first dragons were separated, forbidden to ever come together."
Tonight, Sara and her wizard devoted themselves to a meditation ritual: channeling energy and life-force with the old spirits and stories...and this was the story of dragons. Sara's blue eyes gazed into the hazy whorls of smoke, unfocused, seeing in that tumble of silver vapor the shapes of the ancient ones, the first seven divine immortals. She saw their glimmering scales, hides in all hues, iridescent and beautiful; their golden, gleaming eyes; the soft plush manes of the females and the spiraling regal horns of the males. Sara was one of their descendants—a black dragon in her reptilian form, small but graceful, her delicate wingspan wide and her long, winding tail like a whip—and in this subtle inebriation, with flesh aroused and yet lingering in unrealized culmination, she felt their desire. Like coals in her belly; like gnawing hunger; like pain.
Under the blanket of sweet smoke and incense, she sighed and sank into the old memories, a legacy bred deep into her bones.
The largest male—a grand beast with scales like indigo—pondered the mirrors endlessly. Furiously. Mere silver and polish, so simple to destroy under serpent's talons, yet keeping him a world away from his mate. The ache of unspent need plagued him like a fever, driving him to violent pacing and mad aggression.
"Until a curious wizard came to learn at the dragon's feet," Sara breathed. She knew the story by heart, of course, as all dragons did. "He sought great knowledge...but the beast refused him, and threatened his life. 'O, great beast', implored the scholar, 'what so ails thee, that thou worry the stones of your cave to sand and blast the sand to glass with your fire'?"
When the wizard got the tale of the mirrors from the dragon, he left the creature's lair, set to solving the trouble. In seven days he returned to tell the dragon he had discovered a means to unite the beast with his mate, but would not surrender the answer until the dragon agreed to guide the young wizard in the mysteries of magiks. Desperate to reach his female, the dragon agreed to the price.
"Scales...made flesh..."
Her wizard rose to enter the circle. Brennan crossed the lines to come to her, and even so tiny an alteration in the energies of the pentacle changed everything around them. Auras and hues shifted through the vapors, and the drifting tendrils of smoke took on a lazy but deliberate direction, flowing widdershins along the outer ring of the ritual space. Brennan sank down, pausing to kiss her snow-white belly, sliding his knees astride her hips. When he sat up straight, they made perpendicular lines, bodies united in the very center of the star.
She reached up for him, finding the firm shape of his body, caressing him from chest to thighs as though she molded him, sculpting him. The earliest magiks had molded the ancient dragon: smoothed him and shaped him, giving him the head, the limbs, the cock, of a human man. She stroked Brennan's cock now, marveling at the smooth, tender flesh and the rigid, mounting demand making it stiff and unyielding in her palm. Her tongue flicked out over her lips and she inhaled the scent of him: raw and wild, the scent of hot skin and honest sweat and the wicked hint of pheromones. Even the incense could not hide that tantalizing arousal from her, not from a dragon.
He had skin dark as indigo ink, now—the power of the entheogens working on her, steeping her in the vision—and where she touched him, his color became hers, flowing over her body. The strong, lean shape of him bore only the glittering violet hints of scales that were, a memory of the dragon tattooed upon the man. Horns remained: proud and golden, slightly curved, smooth and gleaming. She made a sound of pleading and he bowed his head for her to arch up, grasp them, kiss them, even run her pink tongue eagerly over their glossy, hard surface.
Thus the wizard taught the dragon to transform. The beast became a man, or like a man. So hidden from Green Man's curse, the dragon passed through the magic mirror to the female awaiting him.
"Scales," Brennan repeated in a whisper above her, "made flesh...she-dragon...made woman."
The male carried with him a fetish fashioned by the wizard partner. Winding it around her slender golden horns, he uttered words of power crafted by the scholar, and the magic overtook his mate as well.
"Like this," Brennan breathed. His hands now explored her: palms cupped to form the curves of her breasts; thumbs traced the jutting nipples. Sara's gasp echoed through the cave, soft but deep, thick with sensation.
"And...like this..."
He stroked along the subtle curve of her ribcage, to her flanks, and followed the lines of her body to her hips. But then he raised his hands again, and like a painter crafting the portrait of this dream he stroked fingers into her hair, down her jaw, until he cupped her face.
Despite the humid ritual space, she felt his cool flesh—dragon flesh—touching her everywhere. She felt the patient iron of his cock against her belly, and his sweet, soft lips fluttering over her eyelashes. She caught the waft of smoke and fire on his breath: dragon's fire. When his tongue found hers, she discovered the subtly sharpened point of a serpent's tongue.
"I will touch all of you," he rumbled.
She arched when he slid down the bridge of her legs, his hands caressing her flesh.
"Love," she cooed, in a voice throatier and huskier than her normal lilting flute. "Oh, love..."

His fingertips trailed over her skin like raindrops running down: they made her giddy with new sensation, tickling and trickling on the tender, soft surface that had so recently been an armor of shiny serpent's hide. They made her shiver.
"All of you," he repeated. Then came the fingers again, stroking her, sliding under the tresses of her hair to cradle her head, slipping languidly down the back of her neck, tracing the lines of her shoulders until she gasped again from the cool kiss of his touch.
That broke her stillness and she writhed beneath him for more.
"Sah," Sarayanah cooed. "Brennan, sah, please..."
He gave her a growl of denial and pressed her back to the stone, pinning her with his bulk. She trilled out in bright dragon-song, before letting the visions swallow her entirely.
The male replaced hands with mouth. He tasted her throat, her bright need like savory drippings on new flesh. He devoured it, licking it up until she cooed and squirmed again, little whippish tail thrashing. He found her breasts, darling, soft, human breasts, yielding under his greedy palms. He tasted them, too, sucked and laved at the tiny, pebbled peaks of her dark nipples, circling and teasing them with the pointed tip of his tongue. Every new feeling made her strain and squeal with joy. Then he rolled, taking her with him in soft, rich green moss, until she sat astride him, and he lifted her to his lips to taste the rich, hot spice of her lush human cunt.
The dragonness threw her head back with a lilting gasp. Her new, clever hands found her own breasts and she squeezed them, for lack of anything else to grip. She could hardly remain still for him as he lapped at her most sensitive, intimate flesh. He devoured it like luscious fruit; his tongue curled inside of her, stroking, tasting, thrusting—the softly pointed tip searched and sampled. His own growl of need rumbled up, and it seemed he delved even deeper, to drink her pleasure from her very core.
"Sah!" The dragonness cried out: master, lord, mate. She called it out to him like calling out his name, and his motions grew hungrier. Before she even realized her impending climax, if came over her, igniting through her strange new limbs like a cloud of beautiful flame, rocking her, making her tremble uncontrollably.
She-dragons, in their reptilian shape, had no physical equivalent to human climax. It ate her up, creeping and crawling through her body, sensations alien and marvelous and without parallel. She knew with perfect, sweet avarice that she would never give up this wizard's magic again, never surrender the chance to take this delicate form with its welling, shuddering, violent choice of ecstasy.
The male shifted from beneath her; the muscles of her lovely, strange new cunt still quivered and twitched, and she collapsed on hands and knees to the carpet of moss. She mewled, intoxicated, for more. As he climbed to his feet before her, she lifted a hand to touch him, stroking his flat, lean belly, petting the length of him in thrilled anticipation, cupping the soft flesh of his testicles.
He watched her for a silent moment as he scrubbed the last wet hint of her cum from his mouth. Gently, without aggression, he gripped her by the hair and willed her closer. She parted soft, dark lips to hungrily take him into her mouth. His cock, rigid and needful, enticed her: hard but tender; smooth under her soft tongue, slick at the tip with warm, delectable taste of seed. All at once, she wanted his seed more than anything; she craved to milk it from him with her mouth, work him until he exploded, swallow and gulp him down like hot mead until he filled her. As dragons this act was impossible. She'd heard of it whispered among humans though, and now she understood the deep, erotic need to gorge on his cock and grow drunk on his cum.
The male gave a guttural moan. His fingers tightened in her hair and he bobbed his hips to her while she sucked him. When he withdrew, tentative, exploring the sensation, she slid the tip of her tongue under and around his stiffened cock, tracing him with her own delicate, serpentine point.
"Ah," she purred. "I want more...oh...more..."
The male's long wait made him impatient, though, and he snatched her by the shoulders to press her down again, forcing her to all fours while he circled her. Large, dark hands palmed the soft curve of luscious hindquarters, and he uttered another predatory growl of approval. He squeezed and fondled them, and when she twisted to see him at it he pushed her back down. Sliding his palm between her thighs he guided her into presentment, and searched her soft valley of flesh with his long, deft fingers.
She groaned. Humans grew wet for copulation; another delicious discovery. Even in her own lonely wait behind her mirror, as she'd writhed and keened with want of a male, a she-dragon's need to mate came out in them akin to a flame which must be quenched; an aching which begged to be soothed, eased by a male's satisfaction. Green Man may have separated them but he had never taken that inborn knowledge, the instinctive need to join, to heave, thrust, culminate, be filled. But while a male could manage the pleasure of his own yearning organ, a female could only want, and yearn, and be in empty, aching pain until the tide of her heat ceased on its own.
Not so now. Not so with these beautiful forms, built to have pleasure for pleasure's sake. Now when the male thrust one long finger into her silky-wet cunt, it sparked new, mounting bliss. A cry of desire escaped her: he taunted, sliding the digit slowly in and out, feeding her sweet pussy but a little of the ecstasy he would bring; a tormenting hint of the satisfaction he could give her with his cock.
Finally he withdrew his hand, and settled his whole body firmly against her. The weight of his erection slid against her sex, denying her a moment more as he moaned over the luscious way her wetness welcomed him. Then, slowly, as if the impossibility of this moment left him dazed, he parted her folds and guided his shaft inside her.
The dragoness let out a sound somewhere between fluting pleasure and a deep, heavy sigh of relief. His cock, made to be hers. Made to be in her; made to complete the unnamed connection that was key to their shared hungers. He tested her, moving slowly once, then twice, until she uttered a desperate moan and wiggled her hips for more.
He fell upon her, planting his hands on either side of hers and rounding to her with each deep thrust. His hardness filled her so perfectly, ravishing, stoking pleasure in loins, belly, down her quivering thighs, up to her breasts, making nipples tingle. Scales were not suited for these sensations - a serpent's body not given to draw so much pleasure from how their bodies joined. His thrusts grew harder, and harder, though. Hot, panting breaths warmed her ear, and she echoed them with her own heavy gasps. Together they grunted, moaned, keened, as they climbed closer and closer, tails lashing, fingers digging deep into the damp, mossy soil. Finally, he sunk his teeth into her neck and held her prisoner, forcing her down to the earth as his cock twitched, then pulsed. The first hot rush of his seed flooded her, and her whole body seized with pleasure, cunt tightening on him, milking his climax, drawing him deep as she cried out in ecstasy. Her senses drowned in overwhelming bliss and emotion; tears sprung to her eyes.
"Yes," she gasped, mindless in her bliss. "Yes...inside me...you belong...inside me..."
His thrusts eased, but did not stop. He slid deep with each throb of his ejaculation, and won a long, lusty moan from her. Her quivering would not stop. Each new stroke of his cock prolonged it, drawing out her climax until she was wrung dry.
"And so did dragons strike their first bargain with wizards...and trade their immortality...for the bliss of mortal flesh."
Sara surfaced from the vision, eyes locked on Brennan's gorgeous gaze above her. He was her wizard again: human male from head to toe, his flesh the warm, ruddy color of a man's, not a dragon's. They were now intertwined: he held her wrists above her head; her long legs wrapped around his waist. He was inside he...he had come, and so had she, tangled in ancient memories of her people.
"Sah," she murmured happily. Her tail swept back and forth across the stone. "What a beautiful legend."
Without releasing her wrists, he brought one hand to her face and caressed her. She turned her head to his touch, nuzzling his palm, a deep, rumbling purr rising in her throat. He bent down to plant a kiss on her lips.
Dragons could not conceive offspring in their human forms. In their reptile forms, they were no longer immortal, or divine: that had been the unforeseen price of the spell which gave them their power to transform. It was a blessing in disguise, however, because their ancestors thwarted Green Man in his attempt to cage them. They no longer threatened his realm of nature, and their hatchlings were no more concern than any other kit or pup or cub in any other litter. So, they were allowed to survive.
Wizards—like her beloved Brennan—had set them free. 

Enjoy more fantasy erotica by Brantwijn Serrah:

Discover the beginning of
Brennan and Sara's story in Equinox
Part of the Ravaged Anthology, Volume 2
Sleep is a waking nightmare when an

makes you his prey.
A fantasy chase brings three friends
closer than they
have ever been before.
Reagan's love for her princess
runs deeper than anyone knows...


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