Nioral's Quest Read online

  Nioral rose up and shook himself out to his full dragon glory. He didn’t particularly like terrorizing humans, but in this case, it needed to be done. He counted silently in his head: seven, six, five…

  “Please help me,” came a small whimper, seemingly from nowhere.

  Nioral started. His countdown interrupted, he searched the area for the source of the feeble plea. The leaf litter at his feet moved slightly, just where he thought he’d seen movement moments before. As he watched, the shiny silver head of an adder appeared, the little bit of sunlight streaming through the forest glimmering off its scaly skin with blinding intensity. Even more unusual were its eyes, the consistency and shape of the finest sapphire gemstones.

  Nioral peered into the deep blue stones, and a strange sensation immediately raged through his groin. Stunned, he stumbled back, recoiling at the unfamiliar -- dare he call it? -- urge.

  The snake gasped now. “I -- I won’t hurt you, Sir Dragon. I just need… need,” it choked on the last couple of words, “… your help.”

  Nioral snorted and shook his head in confusion. Afraid of an adder? A dragon? Of course not. Adder venom had no effect on dragons, although, if properly mixed, it made a fine elixir for tail scrunge. All adders knew this; how could this one not?

  He sensed something else: fear. Adders rarely feared anything, but in this one the emotion was strong. Too strong. Nioral’s chest ached in response to it.

  “To the gods! Look, Barek, it’s a dragon. We got us a fine catch today.” The voice of one of the greedy lads pulled Nioral’s attention from the odd creature. A pair of idiots entered the clearing.

  Obviously lower than peasant folk, the grungy boys appeared to be on the verge of manhood, though Nioral doubted they’d make it much past their teen years if they were so stupid they thought they could take a dragon down. He laughed, shooting a stream of orange flame in their direction.

  Both boys stopped abruptly, shaking. However, Nioral’s warning didn’t deter them long. The taller of the two carried a large stick, and now he waved it in Nioral’s face. Nioral tried not to laugh, for as much as a dragon could laugh.

  “Be off with you, dragon. We’ll settle for the snake,” the boy said, the tremor in his voice belying his true level of courage.

  Nioral leaned down, tilting his head as he did so. For some reason, this always seemed to mesmerize humans, although he didn’t know why. Entranced, the boys watched him take the stick in his mouth and crack it in two, pulverizing the bits until the dust dripped out of his jaws.

  He lifted his front leg and flicked the smaller boy in the forehead with his talon. The action sent him flying a good twenty feet back, the shock of being assaulted by a dragon evident in his wide-eyed expression. The lad’s braver comrade threw himself at Nioral, flailing at him with both arms and legs. Nioral turned just slightly and sent this one sprawling with his tail. Having had enough nonsense, he lifted his snout and shot a burst of fire into the air, sending both lads scrambling in the direction from whence they came.

  Nioral coughed and used a talon to pick a piece of wood from his teeth.

  Humans, indeed.

  “Nice work, Nioral,” a familiar voice said, “I would applaud, but I’ve no hands, as you well know.”

  Nioral looked to his right. Camouflaged among the leaves of the gypsilius was Fudalon, King of Snakes. Few creatures could spot him, as the pattern in his brown scales -- circles inside of circles inside of circles inside of circles -- blended with almost every part of the forest. Nioral, however, had keen eyesight and also the ability to sense his slithery friend’s unnatural charm, though it never worked on him and never would. Charisma simply oozed from Fudalon’s every pore. Sometimes Nioral thought he could smell it, although right now, he thought he smelled something else.

  The mating scent.

  Every creature had their own natural mating scent, an indicator of its readiness to reproduce when the time to find a partner came about. If his assessment were correct, Fudalon was not only ready to mate, he was ready to mate right now. Nioral raised his eyebrows, and Fudalon snickered.

  “Oh, dear friend, get that preposterous look off your face. I’ve no interest in mating with you, though I am rather open-minded… for a viper,” Fudalon chastised, letting his gaze rove up and down Nioral’s frame. His tone suddenly turned serious. “I’m more interested in the lovely at your feet, the one you’ve rescued just in time for me to claim. Quite sporting of you, Nioral, I must say.”

  Nioral glanced down at the adder, now trembling, its head lying on the ground in total distress. “Please don’t,” it rasped, its voice bouncing painfully in Nioral’s skull.

  Part of being the healer kind included connecting to the feelings of the patient, and Nioral felt nothing but terror radiating from the weakened form in front of him. He also felt a change in Fudalon’s temper, which irritated him considerably.

  “Dragon,” the snake hissed angrily, “give her to me. She’s one of my kind and it’s my right to mate with her.”

  Nioral tapped Fudalon’s snout with his talon and spoke while looking directly into his eyes, a breach of snake etiquette and an indication Fudalon’s threats had no effect on a member of the dragon kind. Nioral’s actions sent a clear message to the Snake King. “Do not speak to me of rights, Fudalon, my friend of many ages. Your wild urges have taken control of your brain, but not of mine. Can’t you see the adder is ill? Can you not feel it?”

  The snake flexed his muscular body, sliding around the branches of the tree and dropping its head down toward the silver body now draped over Nioral’s sharp toes.

  His tongue flicked several times before he spoke again. “So it appears, Nioral. I forget you only feel your patients’ needs and not your own. Part of being of the almost forgotten Lynial Brood, is it not? That you have no urge to mate until you find your one and only? Or perhaps you lie to me. Perhaps you think this one is for you,” Fudalon goaded, adding one last parting shot. “Perhaps your one and only is not of the dragon kind, but is of mine. Pity that.”

  Fudalon’s words stung, and Nioral had a sudden urge to blow heated smoke at the scornful viper. He knew, though, that the mating urge did strange things to the male of any species, though he’d never experienced it himself. He stared at Fudalon intently, fearing any words he spoke would have too much of a lasting effect on their friendship to reverse. He held his tongue at the implied insult.

  Fudalon opened his mouth wide and reset his fangs, a sign of aggravation or contentment, one could never tell with the viper. His tongue flicked a few more times while he considered his options -- fight the dragon or surrender. He finally spoke. “If you save her, you should bring her to me,” he commanded with more authority than he actually had. He turned and slithered away before Nioral could respond.

  At his feet, the silver beauty suddenly spasmed, twisting this way and that before finally curling into a ball. Nioral didn’t recognize the symptoms immediately. Time to look her over, he decided, and carefully unfurled her, stretching her reptilian form to its full great length. He examined it with great care, and the source of her discomfort soon showed itself.

  Protruding from her soft underbelly, a candeelia maranak thorn seeped its poisonous liquid. Poisonous to snakes, that is, but quite a good expectorant for dragons if mixed in the proper proportions with jasula vine. Otherwise, just a tasty treat. Nioral examined the wound. He’d found it just in time, given his patient’s symptoms.

  A few more hours and the toxin would have done her in. Odd that an adder would get stuck with a candy thorn. It’s their way to learn to avoid such dangers when young. Nioral cleared the thought from his mind and set about treating the wound.

  The candy thorn came loose easily, and Nioral licked away the yellow sticky substance it left behind. Its sweet taste made the task not unpleasant, but his reaction to licking the softness of the beautiful specimen trusted by the gods to his care confused and frightened him.

  Even more frightening, the skin of
the snake where his tongue touched changed in consistency and color to that of flesh. Human flesh. Soft and pale and silky, so unlike his rigid scales. He’d never seen anything like it, nor had he ever been overcome with the urge to touch human skin as he was now.

  Fascinated, Nioral licked the snake from one end to the other, coating it with his saliva. Pangs of something desirous surged through him, unsettling his normally contented state, but he couldn’t stop himself until the snake let out a soft cry. Its snake skin fell away and its body changed, transitioning into a human form. Nioral stared at it, too stunned to move.

  Quite a beautiful human form.

  A maiden, with longish hair the color of the bright moon, lay completely naked, her pale skin glowing against the drab forest floor. Two inviting mounds of soft tissue on her chest, smooth and large and round, were tipped with brown nipples, obviously for nurturing little ones. Below the breasts came her rib cage, and next the maiden’s waist dipped in just enough to accentuate the swell of her hips, good and sturdy for child-bearing but also curvy and tempting. The space between her shapely thighs sported a patch of silky hair the same color as that covering the maiden’s head, and Nioral, curious, pondered whether he should spread her legs to examine her further.

  While there would be no medical reason for this, it just seemed like a good idea. Something about his patient had tension building in him from top to bottom, including his bones, muscles, and veins. His brain throbbed with heat of an unknown nature, and worst of all, his penis, which had been nicely functional until just moments ago, refused his mental commands to relax. A strange tightening in his groin forced his attention downward between his immense thighs, and the sight that met him there terrified him.

  His penis, normally flaccid except when he had to urinate or coax fluid from his donors, stood straight out from his body, its velvety fur standing on end and the silky head swollen twice its size. Nioral gasped and tried to cover himself as best he could, but his erection kept somehow slipping around his efforts and poking out. He’d never had an erection in dragon form, and it was different, to say the least.

  As if he weren’t troubled enough with the current turn of events, the maiden coughed, a trickle of bright red blood dribbling from her nostril. His healing instincts kicking in, Nioral maneuvered his hardness sideways and stretched his long neck downward. He sniffed once, and just as he thought, her scent revealed her transition to human form had altered her body chemistry. The toxin from the candy thorn worked a hundred times faster. Human physiology dictated the cure, now dripping from the end of his huge, erect cock. Yes, he realized, somewhere in the last few minutes, his member had gone from being his functional dragon penis to his lustful dragon cock.

  No time remained to contemplate his actions, and if Nioral hadn’t made the necessary decision, it would have been made for him. Survival instincts in humans were funny things indeed, and the maiden somehow sensed what her body needed. Eyes still closed, her body posturing as if wracked with terrible pain, she reached in the direction of Nioral’s cock, coughing more, spilling more blood, as the healing essence of his jism called to her.

  The forest should be secluded enough, but Nioral could take no chances with the dragon secret. He moved a few feet to a tali bush, six hundred feet high with big bushy leaves and more than capable of hiding his transformation. In only seconds, he returned to his patient in human form, and this time, when she spasmed and grabbed for him, he allowed her to catch his phallus and pull it toward her.

  Dropping to his knees beside her head, he gently helped guide his cock to her mouth, pressing it into the moist heat between her full lips, now blue with the effort to breathe. One suckle and the color returned to her pale cheeks, her flush indicating restored health awaited.

  The more she recovered, the harder she sucked, and the harder she sucked, the less Nioral could concentrate on anything except the delightful sensations radiating from his cock throughout his entire body. Is this what he’d been missing all those years? Unable to control himself, he thrust into her mouth, delighting in the feel of her teeth scraping his skin and the building pleasure between his thighs.

  He reached down, stroking his balls, fondling them while imagining entering her tight pussy. He’d never had such thoughts before, and they amazed him. He’d seen Reiz cure Sahwen after she almost died, but he didn’t complete the act in her mouth. He’d pulled free and spread his woman’s legs, driving himself into her moist, hot cunt and riding her until they both screamed.

  These heated thoughts tormented Nioral as he neared release. He wanted to take this woman so badly, to fuck her senseless and relieve the ache inside him. He fought the urge, the wildness threatening to overtake him, but the maiden opened her eyes without warning. Like two bright blue stars set in the heavens, they sparkled with passion.

  Caught off guard, Nioral pulled himself from her lips, but the maiden coughed again, sending a fresh trickle of blood down her chin. He couldn’t leave her this way. He’d have to take her or she would die, and suddenly, for some reason, he didn’t think he could bear that.

  Driven by the desire to heal and mate, Nioral lay down near the maiden, turning her back to him to ease the stress on her body. She complied without a sound, and he slid his fingers between her legs to gauge her dampness. Her hot moisture drew his fingers in and set his blood afire. He fingered her as gently as he could manage, stretching her and inciting more of her thick cream. Removing his fingers, he smoothed some of it on his cock, and, his patience completely gone, he rubbed himself between her wet lips, ready to enter her.

  The maiden pushed herself back against him when he carefully inserted the head of his cock, and Nioral nearly lost it. He was so close, but he wanted to feel everything he’d missed all those years spent collecting healing nectars to soothe the pains of others.

  Nioral pushed his cock inside her to the base, and she gasped. The sweet sound was all the permission Nioral needed, and he began to thrust inside her, slowly at first. As he got into his rhythm, Nioral thrust harder and faster, and the maiden matched his movements, driving him deeper and deeper into her spasming pussy.

  The maiden slipped her hand between her legs, and Nioral could only imagine what she did there to please herself. The image of her finger massaging her clit pushed Nioral over the edge. The first climax he’d ever experienced in his life blinded him, and he fell. Deep into all-consuming ecstasy, Nioral plunged with wild abandon. Drunk on the powerful vibrations assaulting his overwhelmed brain, Nioral yelled and grabbed for the maiden.

  He needed something to hold on to, something to steady him as the waves of bliss emanated from his cock and crashed throughout his body. It felt so good -- too good -- and Nioral, the healer of the Kilsh Brood who always knew exactly what to do to heal any dragon malady -- found himself lost among the emotions vying for control of his mind and body.

  The maiden arched her back and moaned. His own orgasm ebbing as the maiden’s began, Nioral pulled her hips against him and worked himself around inside of her, trying to mimic the way he’d pleased the wenches. It must have worked, because her body stiffened and she fought to keep him inside her, riding him hard as her arm movements sped up. He held her close when she came, her scream echoing through his hazy mind.

  Spent, Nioral lay there, still quivering from his release with his arms wrapped around the maiden, whose ragged breathing slowly returned to normal. Without thinking, he kissed her hot temple and laid his head on top of hers, the need to bond surging through him.

  By the gods, but she was a lovely thing. One hundred and twelve seasons, give or take, and that would make her near his age in dragon years. As he expected, she drifted into deep sleep, one he knew could last minutes or days, depending on the injury. For the candy thorn, probably only a matter of minutes, and Nioral knew he should take his leave, but he couldn’t pull himself away.

  Until she stirred.

  Panicked, Nioral rolled over and lunged toward the tali bush to change back to his righ
tful state. After, he tiptoed to the gypsilius tree, for as much as a dragon can tiptoe, and watched his charge stretch and yawn, her innocence glowing through her sweet smile.

  By the gods, Nioral thought, what have I done? The idea he sought pleasure from his patient while she lay in the throes of death mortified him, though his conscience tempered his horror with the knowledge that there was no other way to save her. It had to be done.

  But he’d enjoyed it so much.

  Euphoria swept through him at the memory of her tightness around his cock, and it started to respond again, much to his utter dismay. He fretted over his next course of action as the maiden came more and more alive, twisting and turning and lifting her fine body into a sitting position. He had to act before she opened her eyes and saw him. Finally, he decided to do what he thought any of his comrades would do if they were in his position.

  He hid behind the gypsilius tree and waited.

  Chapter Three

  Merigone opened her eyes and grinned. A pleasantly drugged feeling, along with a strange warmth, circulated through her limbs. A honey taste filled her mouth, and images of a handsome blondish man feeding her medicine from a special pipe flitted through her hazy thoughts.

  Her view of the forest had changed considerably, she noted, looking around at the treetops. Now they just towered over her, whereas before they seemed impossibly tall, touching the sky with their hard ancient limbs.

  Ummm, hard, thought Merigone.

  She tried to call to mind the handsome man from her dream and his special pipe. How would it be to have him inside her? To have his cock pleasing her? Merigone shook her head to clear her passionate fancies. Where did they come from? She hadn’t felt a sexual need for any man after Dalk died during the Great Change, and even when he lived she’d only had relations with him because she knew he liked it. However, she’d never felt the desire to mate as he did and always wondered why.