"More Dragon than Fox" by Kyrm
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Pools of wine gushed from gem-encrusted fountains. Giant goblets skimmed the soporific surface, gathering ruby gallons to the lips of their reptilian owners. A string orchestra’s symphonies played to the vaulted peak of a glass ceiling that framed the full moon’s cloudless sky.
The gala drew the most influential of the city’s families together. The oldest families; the richest families; by far the largest families.
Large in every sense of the word.
Andy Renard had spent much of the night with his head held high. Not thanks to pride— hard to feel much of that in the collective shadow of the night’s exorbitantly-sized guests. No. He looked up as an act of necessity.
That same necessity forced him to keep his footwork exhaustingly fancy these past two hours. Thank goodness he was a fox, some species couldn’t cut it here. For waiters, servers, and fancily-dressed servants of any kind, these soirees were the big leagues.
If he failed. Lingered too long. Didn’t premeditate a scaly leg swinging his way. Then some immense man or woman twice his height would bowl him over. His platter would fly from his hands, and he would go from pointedly ignored to glowered down at.
That would be it for the gig.
“I swear, they keep us around to have people they can look down on,” Andy growled under his breath while restocking his platter with hors d’oeuvres from the tiny servant’s pantry. Tiny insofar that their hosts couldn’t fit inside the front door—it was twice the size of his apartment.
A particularly gluttonous guest had picked up his platter and dumped all its contents into his maw. An uncouth belch later, then Andy received his emptied platter without so much as a thank you.
Dragons.
Red, blue, gold, silver; the scale color didn’t mean much when the shortest among them stood 10-feet tall. The great, thumping 20-footers could at least be felt, offering plenty of time for a knee-high fox to become a russet blur and get the hell out the way.
It was scary work. Dangerous work, in the sense that running around on a busy highway would be. But above all, it was profitable work. Everyone knew dragons paid well. When it came to the phrase, “generational wealth,” no mammal could compete. Long lifespans plus a gold- hoarding instinct led to big, fat inheritances.
So with his platter well-filled, he exited with a sigh—bracing for another hour of that lost-animal-on-the-highway feeling.
“I’ll have one.”
Andy braked fast, so used to keeping his view high he hadn’t thought to look straight ahead. Her sardonic smile said she was used to shocked expressions like the one he wore. “Of course, ma’am,” he said, presenting the platter of pastries.
“I see the way you’re looking at me.” Her serrated claws wiggled over the platter while she debated which one to eat.
He gave his most diplomatic smile. “You’re certainly less of a workout for my neck.” “That so?” The comment pinched her brow. “I meant it in the best way possible. You’re... not like the rest.”
“Of course not.” She plucked the middlemost pastry and popped it into her mouth. He waited to be shooed along. Instead, she swallowed, gave an approving nod, then said, “Adelonda.”
“A pleasure.” Andy bowed low, and for the first time that night, it was because he wanted to.
She looked radiant. Literally, with the way the light hit her crimson scales. Counter to the stillness that marked her ladylike poise, her voluminous, fur-tufted tail playfully writhed in the background. Quite the set of ebony horns curved up from her head, and—far be it from a professional like him to notice—quite the set of breasts curved out from her chest.
Her knee-length dress commanded his eyes to explore. Sheer white, they provided an intimate blueprint of her voluptuousness. More than voluptuous, she was strong. That fact was on full display outside the dress. With its sleeveless make, she boasted broad arms he couldn’t have matched even as the world’s strongest fox. Skull-crushing thighs pushed against the skirt of her dress as though it was the only thing keeping them at bay. Maybe it was: they both ran thick as his narrow torso.
She made for a sight and a half, yet she remained the slightest sight at the party— measuring only to Andy’s height. And Andy, as a tall fox, was an inch shy of the six-foot mark. A tall lady, but a newt of a dragon.
“You didn’t tell me your name,” Adelonda said as she started circling him. Making no mention of the impolite interval where Andy’s eyes roved down, up, down in a way that made him half-certain she was playing with her food...
Before firing him.
“Andy,” he blurted as she completed her circuit. “Ah, Andy Renard.” He gave an apologetic chuckle before adding, “You’re the first dragon to say a word to me tonight.”
“Don’t take it personally,” she said. “Your kind just happen to be beneath us.” “Then why, Miss Adelonda, are you talking to a lowly fox?” “Because.” Adelonda paused to pop another pastry in her mouth, scowling eyes flitting
over to the gathering of giants. She swallowed before saying, “I happen to be beneath them.” “There’s extra waiter outfits in the back.” Andy nodded towards the door. The dragoness started with a snort, then flashed her fangs as though they could dam the
laughter that followed. “Sharp as you look, fox—” She reached over and gave his uniform’s tie a tug. “—I think I’ll stay a dragon.”
“You think I look sharp?”
“That would be all you heard.” Adelonda took his platter and placed it onto the counter next to them. “Follow me.” She snapped around in a blink and carried herself away with quick, purposeful strides—not bothering to check if he would follow.
“Ma’am?” He bounded after, and not just because her raised tail helped flaunt the sway of her heart-shaped butt.
...though it did contribute. “I do have guests to serve,” he added upon arriving at her side. “I am a guest.” Adelonda straightened herself out—as if that would remotely help her
close the gap to her colossal cousins. “Ergo...” She tilted her head towards him, angling an expectant look.
“I serve you?” “In any. Way. I. Want.” Her fingers walked the side of his arm while she spoke.
“If I didn’t know any better, ma’am, I’d say—” Andy cut himself off to clear his throat. That, and never, ever finish his sentence.
“Say what?”
Say he’d overstepped, for starters. Their immense statures were only for show, money made the world move—this ruby-red knockout could have been a billionaire for all he knew.
Still, nothing ventured. “...that you’re coming onto me?” She gratified his response with a mysterious sort of smile that told him nothing. Her eyes
carried past him, and the mystery gave way to a girlish sulk. “Oh. There’s my sister,” she sighed. Easy to spot despite the crowd. Same red scales, only on a ten-foot bombshell. Yet he
preferred the figure of the meatier, compact version down here. With him. “A big sister,” he commented.
“No.” “Ah. Your tone tells me I shouldn’t have called her that.” “A little sister. We’re only five years apart.” The way Adelonda grumbled this fact made
it sound like she was talking to herself. Assuring herself. “She’s in high school, then?” Andy glanced back at the giantess. A sharp—dare he say,
jealous?—tug to his tie forced his pace back into line with Adelonda’s. “She’s 46.”
“Oh.” Andy blinked at the dragoness leading him along, processing this information. “You look incredible for your age.”
A derisive snort fired tendrils of smoke out her nostrils. “Dragons live centuries, little flame.”
“Little?” Andy arched his brow; he didn’t care much for dragons, but he was starting to enjoy her company. “You are aware we’re the same height, right?” After a beat, he added, “Ma’am,” with a smirk.
“You will be little.” Adelonda threw her head back. A flowing mane of autumn gradients gracefully spilled down her back. “I’m just a late bloomer. Someday soon, I’ll be up there.”
“And I’ll be here. Waiting on you.” “Serving me,” she corrected. “What is your opinion on dragons?” Andy stopped breathing. Not for the question, but the fact that Adelonda had come with
it. Drawn close so their hips and shoulders rubbed. He quickly glanced away, heating up underneath his fur. “Your people run the world, what’s there to think?”
“You can be honest. I see you’re an opinionated man.” “You’re an interesting woman, ma’am.” “I’m interesting. As for dragons...” Andy loudly exhaled through his nose. “I do think it’s a little strange, how life works.” “Oh?” She hurried to walk ahead of him—backwards, so as to keep her eyes on his. “Yeah,” he said, so mesmerized by this woman that he was hardly aware they had broken
from the party. The din grew distant. Their lone voices carried to the high ceiling. “I mean, it’s all random, right?” he said. “I was born a fox, so I have to be this...” He patted his suit down; they had given him the tightest fit available. It still hung loose at the arms and legs. “...this scrawny?”
“That’s what your kind worries about?” With lilting laughter, Adelonda spun on her heel; the furs of her tail tip tickled Andy’s cheek.
“Not just that, but... I mean, think about it. I’m born like this and have to work my way up from nothing. How’s a guy like me supposed to get the attention of a woman like...”
“Like...” Adelonda had come to a halt in front of a door on their right. She challenged him to finish that sentence, playfulness flirting the edge of her muzzle. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Get up on my shoulders.”
“Ma’am?”
“I want to get in here.” She pointed up at the thick steel beam of a door handle built for someone more than twice their height. “I’m not much of a jumper.”
“I don’t want to ruin the shoulders of your dress.” “I could take it off, if that would help hurry you along.” Andy decided to assume she was joking. “A-anyway...” he stammered, beginning the
awkward process of scaling her—she made it rather easy, her hands plenty strong to support both his paws. “Gods, you’re powerful.”
“Comes with the territory,” she boasted, unbothered as he balanced atop her shoulders.
“That’s what I was talking about.” Andy tested the strength of his skinny arms against the door handle. It was made for someone twice as tall, but multiple times stronger than that.
“Hm?”
“B-because you were born a dragon...” He grunted through clenched teeth while upping his efforts. “...you get to be strrrrooong—” His arms trembled. “—er.” But the handle refused to budge. “...than. Me. Richer than me. Bigger... than...” He panted. “This isn’t going to work.”
“I have an idea.” With that, Adelonda stepped away. Andy lost his support and dropped. “There.”
Only with the sudden introduction of his entire weight did the door handle swing down. He held on while dangling from the six-o’-clock position, then dropped as the door began to swing forward.
“A warning would have been nice.” Andy patted his tail down. It had fluffed up in alarm. “Ma’am?” she said on the way inside. “Ma’am,” he murmured, following after. There were a few snide comments in his
reserves. She had gotten him thinking. About dragons. Foxes. Being stuck like this, down here. While she would be destined for bigger, better...
Bigger... Better... The train of thought had to be chalked up as a runaway; he was too busy surveying the
opulent bedchamber. If it could be called that. More like a vault that happened to have a bed at the center. A bed massive enough for two full-grown dragons to do their business, all while surrounded by piles of gold.
Adelonda grunted through the effort of forcing the door shut. Andy would have helped, if he wasn’t so busy staring. The door clicked, boomed with a final echo that filled the chamber.
“Well, I can’t change the fact that you’re a fox,” Adelonda said as she sauntered past. Her claws clacked against the floor and announced her presence to the room’s lonely sprawl. Her destination wasn’t the bed proper, but a bed of gold. Coins clattered as she gave them the privilege of touching her body; she spread her arms and legs, forming an angel in their jangling excess. “Just as I can’t change the fact that I’m a little whelp, slumming it with a mammal.”
“Slumming it, are you?” “You don’t sound too hurt,” she said during his steady approach.
“You could have had any guy you wanted on staff.”
“Yes, because I’m a dragon.” When he drew close enough, Adelonda sprang like a predator in wait. She seized his tie and forced him towards her until their snouts hovered an inch apart. He was startled to discover both their eyes matched the room: the color of gold. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips, then purred, “...and that means I get everything. I. Want.”
Her draconic hide was hard in some places. Coarse armor along the tight ridges of her abdomen. Along her lower legs. But at her breasts, her thighs, the mouthwatering butt that bounced atop his lap while she rode him into their hard, cold bed—so, so supple.
It was a night like cocaine, or whatever the draconic equivalent was. Partway through the entanglement, Andy knew he would walk away a changed man. An addict.
Decadence; a dragoness’s sinfully excessive body; her voraciousness swallowing his rigid knot, cunt still dripping while she howled for more...
The coins at his back felt pleasant for their chill contrast to his sweat-slicked back. Andy ached in ways he didn’t know he could, eyes fixed on a blurry ceiling. His uniform lay tattered around him.
Lying on her side and looking him over, Adelonda was barely winded. Andy had learned something about himself. “I...” He breathed through his mouth a few times. Then, each word labored, he
announced: “I want... to be... a dragon...” A giggle hammered him back to reality. “Sorry, dear.” The hoard clinked as Adelonda
sifted her claws through it; she traced a solitary coin down his chest and let it lie there. “Still a fox, I’m afraid. There’s your payment, by the way. A tip, on top of whatever they’re paying you.”
“I didn’t do it for gold,” Andy said as he sat up. “That why you’re holding it?” “I’m still a fox paying off my student loans. Not about to look a gift dragon in the
mouth.” He rolled the coin over in his hand. Closed his fist around it. “I’ve got plenty of other places for you to look regardless.” More wealth jangled as she
rolled over to majestically arch her back. The perfect mix of womanly meat and fearsome muscle—shown off in a way that left Andy breathless.
He wanted her. Not just tonight, but tomorrow. The next day. Forever. His hand hovered, and before he could work up the courage to feel her warm hide, she sat up. “Though I suppose I do need to get back to the party.” On her feet, she looked around at his scrapped uniform. “And you need a new outfit, servant.”
“Will we see each other again?” The question wiped Adelonda’s smirk away. “Sorry?” “You and...” Andy was having a hard time articulating himself. “You and me. I mean,
we could—” She cupped his jaw in her mouth, clamping it shut. Her eyes gleamed with something. Maybe there was a spark that night. But above all the
emotions simmering behind her eyes, he knew the one at the forefront crushingly well. As she smoothed his whiskers down in her grip, he saw pity.
“You’re a fox.” Adelonda bowed forward, planted a kiss to the bridge of his nose. When she let go, Andy murmured, “You’re a dragon.” The twinkle returned to her eye. “And it’ll always be that way.”
*
Months passed without Andy seeing a hint of Adelonda’s cherry hide. Not that he expected to. She had paid him, after all. He was a cheap lay—worth the draconic equivalent of a quarter. She probably forgot about him the day after.
So it chagrined him to know he’d never forget her.
The gold coin could have made a nice dent in that month’s rent if he pawned it off. Instead he punched a chain through it to keep as his good luck charm.
The pelvis-bruising sex could have been what put that extra spring in his step over the next few days. And, hey, maybe those nighttime workouts had started paying off? There had never been much definition beneath the orange furs along his biceps—against the cream white of his chest furs, he detected an added hardness.
...or maybe there really was something to his charm? A thought he always dismissed, though he never stopped wearing the trinket. Never stopped tucking it underneath his shirt when he went to work.
Or when he hit the bar.
Women noticed the extra broadness of his shoulders. The way his wardrobe snugged up around the arms. They found his jokes funnier, batted their eyes in a way that said they were interested but really didn’t want to listen to him talk.
He always took them back to his place. Good luck? Maybe the coin was cursed. Naked, another satisfied woman asleep next to him in bed, he always found himself restless. Staring at the ceiling. Comparing them to his night with her.
I want to be a dragon.
As stupid a wish now as it had been then. What he wanted to be and who he was were two different things. He belonged with the throngs of waiters scurrying in the shadows of their scaly superiors. Picked up by Adelonda, put down like a toy.
That dragoness was the most attractive creature he had ever seen, heard, touched, tasted. Much as these new fantasies said he wanted everything... he wanted her on top. The curvaceous, crimson cherry of his hoard sundae.
So he always assured, “I’ll call you,” to whoever had flirted his way into disappointing him in bed. Then he didn’t.
Then he gave up on the bar scene altogether.
It was late that night. Andy meditated on these thoughts alone, running his fingers along the bumpy contours of his golden keepsake. His vibrating phone pulled him from his thoughts. He groped for it and groaned, “Hello?”
“Come outside,” came a playful voice that had him out of bed in a flash.
“Is this—” The phone interrupted with a conclusive beep. Andy hopped into a pair of jeans on his way down the hallway. That and his white undershirt would have to do. He left without locking the door then raced downstairs faster than the elevator could go.
A parking lot this shabby was unworthy of the limousine waiting in it. The regular-sized front looked comically tiny compared to its rear cabin, which had a roof higher than a bus’s. In front of the sliding passenger door stood a chauffeur in uniform. Coincidentally, also a fox.
As Andy approached, the chauffeur said, “Right inside, sir,” and turned around to grab the passenger door handle. Built for someone larger and stronger than himself, his scrawny arms struggled.
Before Andy could volunteer to help, the chauffeur sighed in relief as the handle clicked, the door sliding open to reveal a dark-lit interior, like a lair.
Not like, Andy reminded himself.
The way in was unaccommodating for a fox his height—forcing him to lift his legs over a several-foot gap. When he got inside, the door slammed shut behind him so fast he had to snap his tail away. Looking back at that close call, he didn’t register the hulking presence sharing a space with him.
Not until her feminine voice husked, “Hello again, fox-boy.”
She sat at the back of the limousine—though “sat” that would be an understatement. Dragons didn’t sit, they luxuriated. Her broad hips, barely pinched into a thigh-high skirt, devoured seats that could have fit three Andys. Her tail needed its own space, stretched over a row of seats to her left.
Adelonda was enormous. Everything about her, in fact. From pear-shaped hips and thighs to a monstrous bust barely contained by two silken strips that formed an X shape across her chest. Constricted so tight it only left the color of her nipples to the imagination.
She slouched tall in her seat as Andy stood.
“Congratulations,” he managed in a dry voice—fighting for a sliver of the playful confidence from their last encounter. “You finally had your growth spurt.”
“One of them,” she replied in a bored voice. He swore nothing in the world could tear his eyes from hers. But a familiar clink attracted his gaze to her left hand. To the ruby-studded goblet fitted into her cup holder. It brimmed with gold coins, which she gathered up in handfuls and let fall through her fingers like water.
“But you, it seems,” she continued, “did not become a dragon.” Her tongue peeked out in a tease that said, despite her height, she was still the same woman he had met. “Come here.”
When he didn’t immediately comply, she reached for him. His forearm disappeared into her hand, and she yanked him towards her—halting his stumbling trajectory with her other hand. Cupping his chin, forcing his head up. Their lips met, her voracious tongue barged in and filled his maw. She lifted him onto her lap. Spread legs straddling her right thigh.
“I take it you didn’t invite me here to catch up,” Andy panted after their lips parted.
“No. But I am glad to see you. Even if there’s less of you to see than last time.” She gripped the strap of fabric crossed over her left breast; a tug unveiled a plump pink nub the size of an apple. Seizing him by the back of his head, she forced his face into her breast. Probing his lips with her hardening tit. “Suck,” she rumbled—her voice guttural, truly draconic.
It conveyed a fur-prickling hunger that Andy knew all too well. His lips parted, allowing sensitive skin to fill his maw. Fox nursed dragon, testing her weak point with a loving nibble from his fangs. One that became a vicious bite at her command: “Harder.”
Her sighs filled the limousine. The longer Andy suckled, the more he tried to squirm. He pressed his hands to the hard, warm ridges of her abs—not wanting to escape, but to do more. His jeans were tight, tented by an aching knot. A knot he so badly wanted to pump inside her again.
But she wanted him there, so there he would stay. Sucking her off, as it were. Forced to submit while her other hand pumped relentlessly underneath her skirt, wielding multiple fingers the size of his cock to pleasure herself.
He tried his hardest to keep himself from cumming. He hadn’t been horny a few minutes ago. But exposure to Adelonda and her radiant warmth left him desperate with lust.
Her titanic curves shivered with the rest of her. She let go, and the moment she did, Andy found himself too weak to remain upright. He thumped down hard onto his side—panting on the floor as he stained his jeans with an orgasm. It wasn’t anywhere near as impressive as the one dousing Adelonda’s leather cushion. At this new angle, he discovered she wasn’t wearing any panties. Nothing dammed the glistening stream that gushed from her, trickling down the seat to pool on the floor. The scent of sex pervaded the limousine.
“Worn out already?” she cooed, drawing his chin up with one finger. “I. Can. Go. Again,” Andy managed between breaths. “Mm, no. I don’t think you can.” The moment Adelonda withdrew the support of her
hand, he wilted to the floor. He felt so frail. He was frail. Only a fox—a fact he’d never minded. Not until he had a taste of dragon. “Just let me—” A gentle, “Shhh,” silenced him. Adelonda sat upright, tossing one thigh across the other,
inner legs glistening deliciously. He had the urge to leap up and pry those legs apart. An urge he knew better than to act on. One leg was packed with enough sinew and womanly fat to outweigh him.
Andy could stare all he liked, but he couldn’t have her—not unless she was in the mood. And judging from her coy smirk, she was finished with him. “Now that I’ve started to fit in with my kind...” Adelonda paused to pop each of her sex-
slicked fingers into her mouth. She smacked her lips once they had all been polished, then continued: “I can be less of a wallflower at their functions.”
Andy’s pupils pinched to pinpricks as she reached for her goblet. Each tantalizing clink of coin sifted over coin made his ears twitch. He wasn’t sure why the sound excited him, but it did.
“I’ll admit, I looked for you several times at the latest gatherings,” she said. “I got fed up and checked the registry of servers—I was disappointed to see you hadn’t made the cut for some time.”
Andy held his breath as she gathered some coins into her fist. “I expect...” she began, holding that fist over him. Plink, plink. Two coins fell as she began to unfurl her fingers. One pattered at Andy’s
side. Another made him flinch as it bounced off his snout. “...to. See. You.”
Plink, plink, plink. With her every word, another coin fell around him. Like a queen flaunting her wealth to a pauper. He snatched each one where it landed.
“There.”
The last one, he grabbed before it touched the ground. He held his payment in his open hand. Not such a cheap lay anymore; six gold coins pawned off totaled a month’s work at least.
Her huge yet gentle hand broke him from his trance. She touched his cheek, and their golden eyes met. Whatever Adelonda saw in him—desperation, love, need—it made her smirk faintly. She knew he was smitten.
“It’s a date,” he breathed.
“It’s your job.” A kiss to the bridge of his nose and it was like she held his heart in her talons. When her lips lifted, he could breathe again. Think again.
The side door slid open. They hadn’t even driven away from the parking lot. Andy blinked at the world outside, then looked up at Adelonda. “Let me stay with you,” he said. When she giggled, some harshness went into his voice. “I mean it. I—”
“You’re a fox, dear. Act like one,” the dragoness interrupted, reminding him of his place by grabbing the scruff of his neck and lifting him to his paws. “There’ll be plenty more payment where that came from.”
*
He had exited the limousine in a trance. By the time he turned around, it was gone—like a dream. A wet one. He stood in the parking lot with a very visible cum stain on his pants.
“Shit.” But it wasn’t a dream. The evidence was there in his hand. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring in the dark of his bedroom. The small stack of
gold coins glinted against a crack of hallway light he’d neglected to turn off. Cold to the touch, somehow hot on his skin. They clinked as he rocked his palm. For
whatever reason, the sound took his breath away—like beautiful music, rather than the jangle of spare change.
The songs they sang hypnotized. Vivid memories of their brief, intense fling played. Her thighs. Her breasts. The goddess-like way she carried herself.
He salivated, but the vision soured as he remembered those supple thighs sealing shut. He enveloped his payment in his fist, flexing the pitiful muscles along his right arm.
It would take a carjack to pry her legs apart. He wasn’t big enough to do it on his own. Wasn’t strong enough. How could he face her after a night like that? Basically forced to suck her off. Demeaned. Used.
He struggled with himself. The fox in the mirror wasn’t what he wanted to be. He wanted to be enough for her. To be more than enough. To be...
“I want...”
Slants of sunlight struck through the slats in Andy’s blinds. They pricked against his eyelids, causing him to groan awake.
For someone who passed out and spent the night on the floor, he felt incredible.
Lugging himself onto his paws, he also deduced that he felt very heavy. Like someone had tied weights to him. He lifted his arms high in a stretch—cracking his jaw in a booming yawn. The sound of tearing threads stopped his yawn prematurely. He kept his arms hoisted, not to stretch, but to crack his tired eyes open and stare.
Shredded white cotton sleeves greeted him. They framed arms wide again as the ones he’d passed out with, hard and cut with the sort of definition that eluded foxes. Another way his species was lesser compared with dragonkind. He lowered his new, broad arms; they drooped mightily at his sides, supported by broad linebacker shoulders.
After taking in one arm then the other, he looked up to meet the golden-eyed stranger in the mirror... after stooping to greet him, that is.
Anyone else might have called an ambulance. Andy busted out the measuring tape. He had grown. Not a couple inches, but a full foot. 5’11’’ to 6’11’’. Taller, and with weight to back it up. He knew that much from the way his paws thudded
against the bathroom’s tiled floor. And the plastic scale’s creak of distress before informing him of the startling leap from 140 pounds to a muscle-packed 373. No one would doubt that number.
The back-and-forth swing of his arms in the mirror showcased bloated biceps. Calves that had hiked the legs of his taut jeans and split their hems.
With a body like this, he could—
The idea sent furs pricking along the back of his neck. He traced a hand up his abs. Drew a claw into the crevice between his pecs.
“Adelonda,” he growled her name, his first spoken at his new height. In a new, gravelly voice.
The living room shook as he ran for his laptop. It took a few attempts to log in—fat- fingering through the keys. His gigs were lined up for the next month. Serving at minor functions for businesses or weddings; he hadn’t made the cut for any draconic events.
Then he saw the e-mail.
Sent out last night: an emergency dismissal from the latest Draconian Gala. Somehow, the coordinator had come across his name in search of a replacement. Andy came highly recommended to the agency so could he please consider a last-minute offer for that night? The e- mail came with the added implication that, if things went well, he would be able to clear his schedule for the next couple of months.
Dragons were always in need of good servants.
Andy could have offloaded a gold coin to pay for the wardrobe he had in mind, but he couldn’t will himself to part with a fraction of his small collection. His hoard, he referred to it jokingly... half-jokingly. He instead dug into his savings to purchase a new outfit. Serving at fancy events, half the job was standing around looking sharp in a tux. He had never much appreciated his appearance. That runt—funny he could dismiss his old self so easily—always looked like a boy playing at a gentleman.
When he arrived that night, there would be no mistaking him as anything other than a man. He brimmed with such confidence that he almost forgot to use the smaller servant’s entrance. The usual penguin-suited bustle didn’t corral him like it used to. His unhurried pace forced his shorter coworkers to stream around him, like a boulder in a river.
He went through the same recitals as everyone else. Lectured on how to address dragons, the correct posture to take, the hurried yet refined footwork that would keep them out of stomp’s way. All yadda yadda yadda to him.
The second they were dismissed, Andy was the first to grab a platter and duck into the main hall. Up to that point, he had vibrated with excitement. He had rehearsed the moment so many times in his head.
He couldn’t wait to show Adelonda the new him. See? his body would tell her. We can make this work. I’m big enough. I can handle you. But the moment he entered the decadent sprawl of the main hall, his unshakeable
predator’s grin waned. He was the tallest mammal in the servant’s quarters... smaller than the smallest reptile
clacking their claws against these polished floor tiles. For a little while, he had felt like a dragon—now, he remembered he was a far cry from one.
Smaller servers nudged his back. He muttered an apology and stopped blocking the door.
With each dragon he had to serve, his ego dwindled. He repeatedly reminded himself that these were fully grown dragons. Adelonda, for the time being, was not. Last night, he would have put her at eight feet tall. He was about a foot shy of that, but musclebound in a way that would make her golden eyes widen with lust. She’d beg him to fuck her, and he’d stuff her to the knot until she was leaking fox spunk.
“I was starting to worry I wouldn’t recognize you.” Or so he thought. Adelonda towered behind him. Above him. He craned his neck as the shadow of her bust
dimmed the chandelier lights. Breasts that could swallow his head into their cleavage quivered against the start of her black gown. Strapless. Flowing. Black silk pooled elegantly around her.
Andy turned and took a step back. “Another growth spurt?” he said, deep voice cracking. “And I don’t think I’m close to done.” His fantasies were dashed as she led him from the party. Muscles that could flex his old
wardrobe apart were nothing against her grip. He had gained a foot to catch up, and she’d lapped him.
“Ten feet tall,” she boasted, putting a number to the ton of woman above him. To the rest of the party, Andy had disappeared: trapped in a corner of the room blockaded by hips that could flatten a couch.
After a lazy lick of her chops, Adelonda purred, “It was too dark to notice last night, but it looks like someone’s been working out. For me?”
“Something like that,” Andy replied. Not a word about his height, though. She was too tall to notice—or too tall to care.
“And how do I look?”
Arrogant. Full of yourself. Like you need someone to fuck you back down to earth.
But a clench of his jaw silenced the bitter half of his emotional spectrum. There was another side that answered with equal sincerity: “Like the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
The compliment made her draw in a quiet gasp. “Silver-tongued, for a mammal.” She looked over her shoulder at the party, then back down to him with mischief in her twinkling eyes. “Let’s see if you can put it to better use: get under my skirt.”
“What?” Andy said, sure he’d misheard.
Adelonda casually gathered the pastries on his platter two at a time. She popped them into her maw at the same rate, efficiently gulping without a single chew until his hors d’oeuvres were gone.
“You want me,” she said. With one step forward she eclipsed his world, black dress further blackened by the shade of her bust. It folded his ears down; he wore her breasts like a hat. “Don’t you?”
“Should we go somewhere more private?” he murmured. “This is plenty private.” She hiked the front hem of her skirt up a few feet. “Wait. Adelonda... ma’am. Can we talk first?” “I’ve had to talk so much since my growth spurts.” When he didn’t make any move
towards her, she said, “Oh, fine. We’ll talk. After. ...if you have the energy, that is.” Andy had no choice. He crawled down and hunched in the dark, intimate space. Hidden
between her legs. If anyone suspected that there was a fox eating her out underneath her skirt, they showed
no signs of it. Adelonda made smalltalk with her fellow dragons in the meantime. Resentment grew
while Andy groped. A dirty secret tucked away, pawing at her gorgeous legs, unable to stop from rubbing his crotch against her. His mouth was full at all times. His snout fit perfectly into her
deep, sopping cunt. Janitor wasn’t a part of his job description, but he had to play it—swallowing to ensure there were no unsightly leaks that might give him away.
Her composure barely broke when she came. Forcing a deluge down Andy’s throat as he struggled to catch gallons of nectar.
“You’d best get cleaned up.” The skirt lifted away. Andy blinked at his bright and sterile surroundings. The air had been sweltering down by her nethers, now his surroundings upgraded to a sauna—literally, she had snuck him into an empty room filled with hot tubs fit for dragons.
A heavy hip bumped him into the nearest tub. He vanished underneath then breached with a gasp, draping himself over the edge.
Gracefully, Adelonda shrugged her gown off then eased herself into the tub next to him. Nude, scales glistening with a fresh coat of water—delicately tickling a claw down Andy’s spine.
“Let me see it,” she said. “What?” he rasped. “Your knot.” Andy complied without thought, arms slung over the side of the tub to stay afloat. He
gave her a smile which he hoped conveyed confidence. She cupped his butt and lifted him until his soggy suit pants breached. The pants—plus the erection they held back.
“You really are obsessed with me, aren’t you?” she cooed. “I could ask the same of you. I don’t understand all the games.” “Games?” Adelonda inserted her claw into the waistband of his pants. In one tug, she
guaranteed part of his paycheck would be going to a tailor: the crotch of his outfit came clean off, erection pouring loose.
Like the rest of him, it had grown impressively.
“I don’t play games, Mr. Renard,” she went on. Not making a move to put him inside her. Instead, a massaging claw probed the flared red skin of his shaft.
Andy clenched his teeth. He was pent up. Raw with a need for release after half an hour being closer to Adelonda than any other man had been. “You’re so full of yourself,” he hissed, causing her to giggle.
“And you’re not?” she spoke coyly through pouted lips, carrying on the tantalizing rhythm of her claw stroke. “I saw you peacocking, fox-boy. You came here because you somehow assume you and I are equals.”
Twisting his head from side to side, curling his toes, testing the strength of his hands by grasping nothing. “Because you want me,” he hissed back—all his efforts channeled into resisting the urge to cum.
“Want you?” His writhes turned rigid as she enveloped his whole cock in one hand. “Why, Andy...” A few pumps was all it took. He could handle shame if it meant the end of that agonizing sexual pressure. As he came all over himself, lowered to simmer in bubbling waters that would destroy the erotic evidence, she assured him:
“I already have you.”
. . .