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 work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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Jerome exhaled softly, the mage coming upon the dragoness' cavern. Truthfully, it was cliché that Malachite had taken up residence there, though he did not expect anything less from a dragon with a hoard of gold that was said, apparently, to rival a king's. She had collected it all over a grand time, after all, since he had first known her and gotten to know of her particular inclinations...
But he was more than happy to help her out.
The mountain air nipped at his skin, his cloak drawn close around his neck, the long pantaloons diving into his long, black boots, though he wore a neat tunic beneath. With his staff in hand, Jerome took a breath and stepped inside, the handle of his staff, gnarled and knotted like the roots of a tree, erupting in a blazing flash of violet light.
"Dragon!" He cried, his voice not quite deep enough to be considered a bellow, trying to put on a bit of an act for her, though it was not the first time that he had visited Malachite with nefarious intentions in mind. "Your time has come! Face me and we shall see who is truly worthy of your hoard!"
The roar that greeted Jerome would have knocked him back off his feet if he had not been expecting it, a rush of wind whipping up his cloak from his body, head down, hair flying crazily about his face. He cursed under his breath, but there was no moment in which to neaten the mess of his brown hair back into something resembling his usual tidiness, not as she barrelled towards him. If he had not known that she was harmless, to him, and that it was all part of the kinky play they had been exploring, he would have feared her. Still, it was early days for them getting to know one another...
Although she was a biped, the dragoness ran for him on all fours, wings flared, flapping, buffeting him with gust after gust of wind. The violet light of his staff cast over the trinkets and treasures littering her cave, the mound of gold rising up and up to the point at which she leapt for him. Sliding and skittering down with a roar and a snap of her mighty jaws, the rich green dragoness with brown points, to the spines on her back, her sharp claws, the blocky tip of her tail, scattered gold as easily as she would ants, twenty feet tall when she stood upright and a force to be reckoned with.
"Who dares enter my cave?" Malachite bellowed, clad in a simple leather top that cut off at the bottom of her ribs and a skirt-like wraparound with a slit up the right side, for mobility. "Do you truly think yourself worthy of taking my gold, foolish man?"
She leered down at him as if she had never seen Jerome before, standing to her full height, his violet light glancing off the deep forest green of her scales, the plate scales running down her front, from the connection of her head to her neck down to her lower abdomen, a lighter shade of green that shifted between shades lightly in the low light.
Yet he could not fear her, not as he smirked and peered up, eyes darkening with intent. Yet it was all part of their game, what he and the dragoness had started, unconventionally, yet had found worked for them.
He grinned.
"Only when it was never yours, to begin with, dragoness... You've thieved every scrap of this gold and it's time you learned what it's like to be on the bottom!"
