This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
All characters are over eighteen and clearly written to be so, as in all of my stories.
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"We must leave."
Christóforos trembled, holding the dragon's head between his hands. That was a hard enough task in itself, truth be told, considering just how much larger than him the dragon was. Although he had cared for Re for many years -- it had to be going on fifteen years by that point in his life -- it was still a surprise to him, sometimes, just how much larger the dragon was than him. The size of a large draft horse (and pushing the limit of that at least), the drake stood tall and glorious in his deep, green scales under the moonlight. The soft glow of the moon was just about able to pick out the lighter green patterns on his body, yet they could not be fully appreciated in the dead of the night.
Chris' heart pounded, Re breathing slowly and evenly, though Chris was not such a fool as to not feel the hidden tension lining the dragon's body. His wings were held a little bit too rigidly to be believed, the fire within him ebbing and waning, flickering up to the surface, the gleam of imprisonment in his eyes burning through all else.
"It's time..."
Re's voice was harsh and low as if he struggled to get the words out and they clung to one another, though the dragon was much older than Chris. An age difference of circa thirty years, being that Chris was in his late twenties, the dates unimportant, was nothing to them, however -- nothing when compared to the capture and imprisonment that they had both faced.
One a mount and one a slave: was there really any difference? They may have been cared for to some extent but there was no more to say than that, Re shuddering at the indignities he had been put through. They had used harsh, biting bits on him to control him and bound his wings until he could be "trusted" as a dragon to be ridden in the air and flown, his claws capped or, most humiliatingly, shaved down so that they were useless to him. Drugged and kept compliant until he saw little else in his life, his anger had simmered, brash actions tempered but never forgotten.
It was time to go, however -- not that night but soon. They had talked many times of escaping the kingdom, the debts of body and mind that were rendered to the lord of the castle, a noble who saw them as mere possessions. Yet possessions, of course, did not so usually walk away freely and they were contained there better than any jewels, lacking the knowledge on what even to do outside the castle walls. The walls were not even the greatest barrier to their survival in the outside world either, Re lacking skills in hunting even as he hunkered down with the man, over their many years together, who had become his lover, trying to forget the tremble in his scales. It wasn't there, not truly, not when he was with Chris. And things would be better as soon as they found a way to strike out on their own.
Soon... The lure of it tempted them but Chris trembled like a leaf, barely able to even envisage what a life outside the castle walls and his forays into town on the lord's orders for supplies could be. He was a slave and an errand boy, a boy who never truly was allowed to grow into a man, despite his age. That was the belittlement of slaves at work, breaking them down and twisting them into shadows of the people that they were supposed to be. Of course, his usual title was "servant" but everyone knew that that didn't really mean anything when one could not leave.
