Don't move while you catch your breath.

You know you need to get up, but you can't find the strength to move, even if your bare ass is facing the shop door. It's not like you get many customers this time of day. No sooner has the thought crossed your mind than the shop door opens. You glance over your shoulder as a fearsome red drakaron steps into the shop, his scaly nostrils flaring as he scents the air.

"I knew I smelled lust in here," he hisses. A humanoid dragon, he is the worst kind of monster, choosing to live feral in the wild, wearing nothing but a leather belt holding a handful of crude knives. Not that he had anything to conceal with clothing. His scales were smooth between his legs, his genitals hidden inside. He looks at you and steps closer, his long, muscular black tongue sliding out to taste the air.