The Dragon’s Virgin Slave 2: Captive (Monster Breeding Dragon Shifter Erotic Romance)

The Dragon’s
Virgin Slave 2: Captive

By Cherry Dare

Copyright 2013 Cherry
Dare

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Kara leaned back against Rhodar’s
chest. Though they had a fire lit in their cave, the night was cold, and she
enjoyed the heat of his body.

“Are you cold, little one?” asked
Rhodar.

“A little,” replied Kara.

The dragon-shifter spread his
magnificent black wings, and brought them around to cover Kara like a blanket
of soft leather. She snuggled into it. His fine-scaled tail curled up to coil
securely around her arm.

She marveled at how at ease she now
felt with her lover’s strange body. Not long ago, his dragon-like features— his
wings, his tail, his talons, his long forked tongue, his hot obsidian skin— had
frightened as well as aroused her. But now that she’d had time to grow
accustomed to him, and had often seen Rhodar transform from dragon-like man to
black dragon and back again, his form had become almost as familiar to her as
her own.

They kissed. His forked tongue
twined around hers— a strange but sensuous act which she had come to love. Just
kissing him sent a steady pulse of arousal tingling through her nerves, and she
knew that it did the same to him. His enormous cock twitched and hardened
against her leg.

Kara wondered if it was possible to
get that huge shaft into her mouth. Once the thought crossed her mind, she had
to try. She broke off the kiss and turned so that her mouth was positioned by
his rigid member, and her cunt was near his face.

“I’m afraid it will be too large
for you, little one,” said Rhodar. “But perhaps you could use your tongue.”

“You never know,” replied Kara. “I
might surprise you.”

His gigantic cock was as dark as
the rest of his skin, the smooth black of coal. She licked between his thighs,
wriggling her tongue like a snake, and then at the tender skin between his huge
black balls and his asshole. She enjoyed the way that made him suck in his
breath.

His long forked tongue flicked
against her thighs, mimicking what she had done. It was sweet torture to have
that wet heat caressing her thighs without it ever touching her cunt or
asshole.

She turned her attention back to
his cock. It looked swollen, ready to burst. A bead of glistening fluid welled
from the head. She weighed his balls in her hands as she stuck out her tongue
and licked up the drop. Rhodar moaned, and his tongue slid away across her
belly.

Kara licked around the head, then
lapped at the long, fat shaft. His skin tasted like salt, and his natural scent
of musk and hot metal filled her nostrils. She longed to get his entire cock
into her mouth, or even part of it.

She opened her mouth wide, encompassing
the tip of his staff. Then she laid her tongue against it and sucked hard.
Rhodar shuddered with pleasure.

As Kara tried to relax her jaw
enough to take more of his huge black cock in, Rhodar returned his tongue to
her cunt. The hot ribbon slid over her pearl, caressing it, and then penetrated
her hole. Kara moaned around his cock. She thrust her pelvis forward, desperate
to get more of his tongue inside her.

If it felt so exquisite to have his
tongue in her cunt, how good would it feel to him if she could get her mouth
around his shaft?

Kara curled her lips around her
teeth, relaxed her muscles, and worked her mouth around his huge cock. Her jaw
ached, but she had it inside. With a groan, Rhodar thrust into her mouth. She
choked as his thick rod jammed into her throat, but made herself keep it in. He
thrust again, and Kara tried to suck it, her cheeks bulging. She was determined
to give him all the pleasure she could.

As Rhodar thrust his cock down her
throat, his forked tongue penetrated deeper into her cunt. The split ends of
his tongue moved separately, caressing her inner walls and sending bursts of
pleasure through her. Within her, his tongue rippled and wriggled, stimulating
every single part of her.

His huge cock was thrusting within
her mouth, choking her. Kara’s eyes watered. But she barely felt the discomfort
as his long forked tongue undulated within her. A loop coiled around her pearl
and rubbed around and around and around...

Kara’s climax tore through her,
making her scream around Rhodar’s cock. Her throat vibrated. With a growl,
Rhodar thrust hard. His hot seed spurted in her mouth and ran down the back of
her throat.

Kara swallowed every last drop. She
licked her swollen lips as he withdrew his softening cock. Then she twisted
around and wriggled back up to lie beside him, her face nestled into his
shoulder, languid from her climax.

As they lay entwined, she thought
again about the strange sequence of events which had brought them together.
Rhodar had told her that he was the last of the dragon-shifters, and that she
would become a mother of dragons, who would prevent his race from dying out.
She hoped that she was pregnant— they had certainly had enough sex for it!— but
it was too early for her to know.

“I’m so glad I stole your egg from
the slave trader,” Kara said sleepily. “Just imagine if I hadn’t!”

“My egg called to you,” explained
Rhodar. “The slave traders use dragon eggs to power their magic spells, but the
eggs of dragons have their own powers as well. They can sense when a person who
might help them is nearby, and offer help of their own.”

Kara blinked at Rhodar. “Do you
remember being an egg?”

He laughed, his broad chest
vibrating against her back. “If we were aware of every dull moment spent locked
for eons in a sorcerer’s palace, we would be born mad. No. I was only born with
the knowledge all dragons possess.”

“Why don’t you stop the slave
trade?” Kara asked. “You’re the only dragon-shifter, but the desert is full of
dragons. Why not destroy the slave markets of Wyrm, set the slaves free, take
back your eggs and hatch them, and kill all the slave traders and sorcerers.
Then they could never steal another egg.”

The hot, wet ribbon of Rhodar’s tongue
flicked out, coiling around to kiss her lips. “So ruthless, little one. I
approve. But we cannot. The sorcerers have warded the entire city of Wyrm against dragons. Their magic is powerful. Perhaps some day we will learn to defeat
it. But not today.”

A booming, malicious laugh echoed
through the cave.

“You speak true, dragon-shifter,”
said an unfamiliar male voice.

Kara leaped up with a scream.

Rhodar too jumped to his feet, his
hiss of rage reverberating around the stone walls. The flash of light that
accompanied Rhodar’s transformation into his dragon form lit up the cave. No
one else was there.

But Rhodar did not change shape,
and the shock wave that also went with his transformation did not come.
Instead, the rugged planes of his handsome face twisted with pain. His taloned
hands came up to clutch at his head, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Kara started to rush toward him,
but she was caught, held still in air that had become as thick as glue. She
struggled, but could barely move.

In the flickering firelight, she
saw the air blur, darken, and reveal two men. One was unfamiliar, a tall pale
man with long pale hair, dressed in the elaborately tied and knotted garments
of Wyrm. The other, shorter but bulkier, was the slave trader who had captured
her: the man from whom she had stolen Rhodar’s egg, and used it to break his
skull... or so she had thought.

Kara’s lips were clumsy and numb,
but she forced the words out. “I thought I killed you.”

He turned. To her horror, she saw
that his skull had indeed been crushed. There was a hideous dent in his head,
and she could see bright blood and the white edges of bone within. But no blood
spilled over the edges of the wound. It was as if his injury had been frozen in
time at the moment it had been inflicted.

“Wyrm is a city of sorcerers, bitch,”
said the slave trader. “We don’t die easily.”

He slapped her across the face. Bright
pain stabbed through her mouth, and she felt her lip split and bleed. She tried
to spit at him, but her mouth wouldn’t move.

The pale man spoke emotionlessly.
“Enough of this. I cannot hold the spell for long. We must return to Wyrm.”

Kara tried desperately to move, to
reach Rhodar, to at least touch him and assure herself that he was alive, but
her entire body was paralyzed. She could only watch helplessly as the pale man
gestured. The world went dark around her.

She awoke in a position that was all
too familiar: chained to a bed, with the slave trader standing over her. This
time she was in an even more lavish room, draped with brocade tapestries. Her
paralysis was gone, but manacles were clamped tight around her ankles and
wrists.

“You won’t get another chance at
me, bitch,” he said. “But I’ll get a chance at you!”

Slowly, giving her plenty of time
to watch, he unknotted his draped trousers and withdrew his erect penis. Kara
eyed the pale organ with loathing.

Though she was afraid, she forced
herself to sound defiant. “Go on, stick it in me. I won’t even feel a tiny
thing like that. It reminds me of the slugs I used to pick off our berry
bushes.”

He stroked his repulsive veiny prick.
It jerked and twitched in his hand.

“Maybe I’ll fuck your mouth first,”
he snapped. “Make you choke on it.”

“Go ahead. I’ll bite it off.” Kara
snapped her teeth at him.

The slave trader jerked back, and
his prick sagged in his hand.

Kara deliberately laughed aloud.
She knew it was dangerous to taunt him, but if she could get him talking, he
might reveal precious information that might enable her— and Rhodar— to escape.
The slave trader certainly wouldn’t believe her if she pretended to want him,
as she had the first time.

“Have it your way, bitch,” he
muttered, hastily stuffing his limp worm back into his undergarments. “Slut. Whore.
You’re to be saved for the Master anyway. You won’t be so defiant once he’s had
you!”

“Who’s the Master?” Kara asked.
“The pale man?”

The slave trader sniggered. “Him?
He’s nothing— just a hired sorcerer. Wyrm has hundreds of them. The Master is
the Lord of Wyrm. He owns this palace... and the dungeons beneath it.”

“The dungeons?” Kara echoed, afraid
to ask directly. Surely Rhodar was in the dungeons. She refused to believe that
he could be dead.

The brutish man licked his lips.
“Yes, the dungeons! It’s where he keeps his monsters. I hope he throws you to
them. You think you like being a whore to monsters? You won’t enjoy the beasts
of the dungeon!”

“You never know,” Kara said coolly.
“What’s he got in there?”

“Your dragon lover, for one,” the
slave trader retorted.

Kara kept her expression blank,
hiding her relief. So Rhodar was alive!

“Maybe the Master will make your
beast-lover watch while he throws you to the monsters,” the man went on. “I
hope you get tossed to the lion-man. Oh, he looks handsome enough, if you like
animals— and obviously you do. But his cock is barbed. I love listening to
women sigh when he sticks it in... and scream when he pulls it out!”

Kara couldn’t repress a shudder.

Her sadistic captor smiled. “Or
maybe he’ll throw you to the wasp queen. Oh, yes, she’s female. But she has a
prick like none you’ve ever seen before. And she doesn’t stick it in your cunt,
she stabs it into your belly, to lay her eggs inside you. The larvae eat their
way out.”

Kara’s jaw was clenched tight, her
facial muscles locked into a bland stare. If she reacted at all, he’d only
think of more horrible things to threaten her with.

The slaver trader seemed
disappointed by her lack of reaction. He bent low over her, giving her a close
view of the gaping wound in his skull. She shivered and pulled away, as much as
she could. He laughed and bent lower, sticking out his wet tongue to lick at
her face.

She jerked her head forward and up,
smashing her own hard skull into his face.

The slave trader screamed and
leaped away, his lip and tongue and nose bleeding.

“Filthy bitch!” His words were hard
to distinguish. He spat blood on the floor.

“That’s for the slap!” Kara
shouted.

“I hope you get the wasp queen!”

He slammed out of the room. There
was a flash of emerald light around the door as he went out.

Kara lay back with a sigh. Her head
hurt, and a trickle of warm blood oozed down from where his teeth had been
driven into her flesh. It itched.

She tried not to think of the lion
man, or of the wasp queen. For all she knew, they didn’t even exist and the
slave trader had only made them up to scare her.

Kara’s thoughts were interrupted
when the door opened in another flash of green light. To her surprise, two
girls came in.

They looked about Kara’s age,
nineteen or twenty. But they were not human.

One had beautiful fluttering wings
like a butterfly, of iridescent pink patterned hypnotically with black lines
and teardrops. Feathery pink antennae protruded from her forehead. As she came
closer, Kara saw that her glittering black eyes had no irises, and were faceted
like a gemstone. Her skin was pink as a rose, and her voluptuous breasts,
visible through her gauzy white draperies, had rose-red nipples.

The other girl had short, plushy white
fur covering her entire body. Her bright green eyes had slitted pupils, like a
cat, and her pricked ears, claw-tipped fingers, and swishing tail were also
cat-like. Her carelessly wound gauze scarves and veils did not conceal a pair
of small, pert breasts with bare pink nipples.

The girls approached Kara’s bed.
Kara watched them warily, uncertain whether they were slave traders or slaves
themselves. They were not manacled, but no doubt there were other forms of
imprisonment.

“Greetings,” said the butterfly
girl. Her voice was soft and breathy, like wind rustling dried flower petals.
“I am Suli, and my friend is Aralan. Do not fear us. We too are prisoners here.”