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.
Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.
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Colin grunted, posed for Mistress Cassandra’s pleasure. The dominant dragoness had had him well and truly under her claw from the day she’d met him, but Colin had never thought that she would take things so far with him. Moment by moment, day by day, his hide had become suppler and more amenable to every last little thing that she could have asked of him. He was a light shade of blue with a little difference between each scale so that he had a shift in his colouration, very slightly, as the eye roamed down the length of his anthro body, though she had seen to it that even the tips of his elegantly curved, two horns gleamed.
Nothing less than the best for Mistress Cassandra.
Polishing his light blue scales so that they shone for her? Of course.
Always staying on his knees around her in her home system of caves, set up like an underground mansion? That was kind of hot.
Eating her out while in leather fetish gear? Absolutely.
Serving her friends whenever she wanted, even though that was not something he’d considered before? Mmm…
He’d never wanted to admit just how kinky he was, how horny all of it made him, though it was all what he’d wanted, even as she’d teased out the deepest and darkest desires that Colin had not even known he’d had. Maybe that was the true beauty in having a mistress, at least for him, and why he allowed her to do so much. That the sky blue, delicate-featured drake was head over heels in love with his dominant mistress too was by the by. There were more alluring things at play than the lure of romantic interest…
The party swung around him, the throng of dragons and others moving as if they were all one being, a flock of birds that always knew where those near were going to be a moment before they were actually there. He was bound standing, his cock, of course, hard and tied with CBT that did not hurt but also was uncomfortable, separating his nuts out within his sack, stretching the neck of his sack down a little too. That was not the main focus, however, even if his cock gleamed with the lightest, faintest hint of pre-cum too, his hard length uncut with the skin pulled up over most of the tip, his muscles lightly defined.
Yet his paws being pulled back behind his back made it so that his wide shoulders and chest were on show, pushed forward, though he was not particularly fit. That he was not overly muscular was both a benefit to him in his flexibility and something that the guests commented on.
“Cassandra wills soon have him in shape.”
“A little scrawny for her though, don’t you think?” “She never has a pet who is not to her liking.”
He shivered. Did that mean that he would not be to her liking if he did not do something? He’d always thought that things would be fine if he served her, yet they pulled on a need inside him to do more, to be more.
For her, he could be better. But, for the time being, all that he needed to do and to be was a statue for Mistress Cassandra’s pleasure.
Colin could see her moving softly through the party, the perfect host, one who moved with the tides of change. A lithe, elegant dragoness who stood head and shoulders taller than him, he supposed they would have made a comical pair if they had been partners in a more conventional sense. Yet her glittering, dark blue scales were divine, glowing with good health and all the time that she spent having her pet lotion them up, massaging her while she may or may not have allowed her pet to climax. His dick would be out so that she always had easy access to him, a rarer type of dragon who held his testis externally rather than internally, which only led to even more opportunities for her.
He whimpered, his muzzle held open with a ring gag that left him drooling, even though he did not quite feel as if he was in any place to use his muzzle in any way. His tongue hung out through the gap in the gag, wiggling back and forth as much as he tried to keep it steady.
Around his feet were spare plates and utensils, things that could be needed, but that one would have to be drawn over to see. His ankles had a metal cuff around each one with a short spreader bar hobbling him, not allowing him to move, though that left Colin in constant fear that he would tip forward.
But he had to trust her. He had to be the statue, bound and posed, poised on show. For that was his only role at the party as his jaw ached, the strapping of the gag hooked behind and over his horns. Everything was secure and in place, exactly as it was supposed to be, his throat working as he swallowed.
He didn’t want to drool. He wanted to be perfect for her, the best pet that he could ever have been.
He caught her eye across the room, left in denial, wanting, his cock throbbing, drooling a little, though it was a pathetic string of pre-cum from a statue. The dragon whimpered, watching her watch him, though his mistress did not bother approaching him. He was not, at that time, the subject of her attention.
But Colin was there to provide an artistic image, a piece that others could enjoy, even if it would only be in passing. He was not bound spectacularly, but his body was there and on show, all in the best of ways as he grunted, his head forced to stay up with the posture collar around his neck. It dug into the underside of his jaw, but all was as he wanted it to be, licking his lips, trying to get her to desperately look at him, to do anything to him.
Maybe later.
Maybe.
But only Mistress Cassandra would ever get to decide that.
Until then, he was a statue on show, on display, an object. Colin would later understand why it made his dick so hard…