Even men can bleed.

Vakenroth laid still as demanded.

There were no protests or rebellion from the dragon bride. He understood how dangerous the coupling was by its very nature. Valentina had climbed up upon his tail, she had driven herself down upon it, slowly fucking herself on the least of possible insertions.

It was still far too wide for any human to take. Even greater still for one of such small stature and inexperience.

Valentina had injured herself upon her dragon. Yet she hadn’t stopped. There was pain there, agony, an uncomfortable and overwhelming stretch. But that wasn’t all that was there, there was a pleasure, behind the dull pain, behind the contrasting sharpness. A part of her body that enjoyed feeling that flesh against it.

That pretended she had taken a cock. It was different from the pleasure her clit could bring. Not better. Perhaps worse. But certainly different. And not a pleasure that she would deny herself. Even if remaining conscious through the act was difficult.

She drove herself down once more, feeling that tail stretch her wide, feeling it slam back against her womb with a terrible agony. Feeling her inner walls caressed by a bludgeon. Nobody had done this to her. Nobody had put her through this.

Curiosity pushed her forward. To taste what it was to be a woman in the patriarchal sense. To feel what it was to be penetrated. To understand. It must have been easier with a mortal man. One far more modestly endowed.

One who could thrust against those parts of her which sung in pleasure.

And not the parts that screamed.

She could understand at least part of the appeal.

Even if Valentina did not think it was for her.

Every time she nearly achieved her orgasm, it seemed to flit away, just out of reach. Chased perhaps by the pain, or some lingering nervousness and expectation. There were smaller moments of pleasure. A pleasant welling, yet ultimately unsatisfying.

“Enough.” Valentina growled.

She would not be satisfied by pleasure incomplete. Not when she knew what she enjoyed. Yet there was still that desire for penetration there. That poetic act of it all, or at least the expectation of that night of virginities loss.

A fancy that she could indulge in after a life of instruction towards its end.

She raised herself up and off Vakenroth’s tail, the dragon making no protest at her extraction. The core of her ached, the agony running down along her thighs. The pain was nearly overwhelming.

Nearly.

But the pleasure was just behind it, nearly grasped, nearly complete. She wanted more. Valentina could always heal once she was done.

She slid back, running her pussy along the back of Vakenroth’s tail, brushing along the hardened ridges of it. That stimulation sharper than it had been before, yet still pleasant to her flesh.

Valentina reached down, grabbing at Vakenroth’s tail closer to the base. And then starting to pull.

She had tested Vakenroth’s flexibility before this coupling. He seemed nearly limber enough to pull off what Valentina intended. Using her borrowed strength, Valentina curled Vakenroth’s tail forward, bending it towards Vakenroth himself, while she rode the tail like a cresting wave.

That tail firmly held between her thighs. The tail’s tip extending out before her. Jutting profanely. As if it was a terrible cock of her own. Already wet with virgin’s blood. Curling and moving forward. The princess riding along it.

Until finally the tail impacted against its target. Vakenroth had no proper pussy to fuck. Yet that did not mean he could not be claimed. Valentina crashed the tailtip against Vakenroth’s asshole, that rose of him, ready to be plucked once more.

Valentina had earlier fucked Vakenroth’s ass, with the full of her fist and arm, a lesser ordeal for a dragon that towered over her so. The dragon had submitted to the act for a time, but soon after anger drew him to lethal ****.

“If you would deny me. Protest now.” Valentina warned Vakenroth beneath her. The dragon had started to writhe. To spit flame in displeasure. Yet there was no outright **** yet, no outright denial.

Vakenroth wanted a great many things from Valentina. Humiliation and imposition included. The dragon had enjoyed being held down, overpowered by someone so slight. Yet the dragon still had a stubborn pride to him. Vakenroth could not ask for what he wanted. He could not admit to his desires. Not yet.

Valentina hadn’t yet tamed his pride.

And so Vakenroth had gone along with everything Valentina did to him. Until it was too much, and he tried to kill her.

Valentina would rather avoid the murderous instincts of intercourse.

Vakenroth thrashed. He kicked his legs up in the air, lethal claws striking at nothing. But he did not move to strike Valentina directly. He did not directly object. His protests were not a denial. They were formulaic, what was expected of him.

If not an outright enticement for his mate.

Valentina understood. She reached down, grabbing hold of what flesh she could, anchoring herself to Vakenroth’s pelvis. She was hanging there suspended, riding the raised tail, gripping it firmly between her thighs absent the ground or any other form of purchase.

Without leverage, all of her strength was useless. And so she grabbed hold of Vakenroth himself. She took a moment to catch her breath.

And then she tugged. Pulling with all the strength of her upper body, all the muscles of her core, and then finally a roll of her hips. Her whole body in one fluid moment, taking Vakenroth’s tail and slamming it down against him.

Shattering him.

Breaking through that sphincter and suddenly stretching the dragon wide. Causing the dragon to roar out, in pleasure and pain both. And then Valentina did it again. And again. And again. Feeding that tail slowly inside of her dragon wife.

Stretching Vakenroth out further and further. Feeding yet more surrogate cock inside the prone dragon. Valentina had fucked Vakenroth before with her arm.

Beyond the boldness of it, Vakenroth could take the full of her arm with little difficulty. But this tail that Valentina now used? It had a terrible thickness, a terrible length to it. As Valentina fucked Vakenroth with something of appropriate size.

Breaking the dragon’s ass with a phallus as terrible as the dragon’s own cock.

Valentina herself, still high on that rush of pain from her earlier coupling. Her whole body tingling with intensity. A manic energy running through her. A pain desiring of empathy, a desire to be shared.

She wanted Vakenroth to feel that pain too. To feel what it was like to be overwhelmed. To be fucked by far too much flesh. And even as Vakenroth writhed, there was no lethal protest, no attempt to pull his own tail back.

He wanted this too. The very act overwhelming, stretching him in a way he had never been stretched before. Letting him be fucked by his husband, his Valentina, in a way rather unique. For her to finally use upon him a cock that she deserved.

It was as if she was a dragon true, pinning Vakenroth to the ground and pushing flesh deep inside of him. There was agony to it. There was a stretch and overwhelming fullness. But there was pleasure still, hidden in the depths of him.

His cock was fully extended now, leaking precum across his belly, across his chest. Shaking with the intensity of each of Valentina’s thrusts.

Valentina wasn’t fucking Vakenroth just with the strength of her hips, but nearly every muscle in her body devoted to this task. To this deflowering. To claiming her bride on that wedding night.

She wanted him to feel... not just what she felt, but what she had been built up for. What it was to be raised as cattle, as currency. A girl destined to be taken and consumed by a man. To have her virginity and inexperience so blatantly traded for that she was expected to display a bloody receipt.

Such conditions were not Vakenroth's doing. He was born of another system, with its own barbs and rules, ones that did not **** with feminine expectation.

But he was a willing recipient for Valentina's lustful rage. And there was rage there, there was anger, there was a long simmering resentment, boiling over with the slapping of hips.

With bruising and deep gutfucking. With the crushing of pleasured nub deep inside the dragon.

Valentina wanted to scream. To let out all that bottled displeasure. To speak to a discomfort so deep, a life so controlled that until recently, she couldn't even conceive of the words of protest.

She couldn't even imagine the anger deep in her bones. In a way, Vakenroth had freed her from this. He had claimed her as a bride, as a sacrifice, a token offered up by the kingdom of Acre.

A token he could not use.

But he was not her savior. He was barely even her friend. Even now, he still had thoughts of killing Valentina, should she grow inconvenient. But he had, through his own inability, gave Valentina the freedom that she had long been denied.

That she had been unable to imagine.

And that freedom, however accidental, was something that Valentina was glad for.

And so she screamed. There was a cathartic surge to it, to just let all that pent-up emotion out. The rage. The tears. The long stifled protests. To tie that emotion to a physical act.

To scream until the voice near gives out. To thrust until her thighs were raw from the repeated impact of scale.

Valentina lost track of the time. Of the count. Of how long her arms had been burning. Of how tired and sore the whole of her body was. She was barely here. Barely conscious.

Her waking mind dancing along a thread. Strumming. Thrusting. Demanding and mourning and cursing. Breaking and breaking in.

Vakenroth beneath her in tortured ecstasy as she fucked him without consideration or restraint. As she fed far too much tail into the powerful dragon. As that same tail she used as stolen phallus, bent in ways unnatural.

As it even broke. Bent and twisted into a more useful shape for Valentina's abuses. Valentina had started to learn the sounds of the dragon in pain. To learn the change of breath. To learn the timbre of growls.

There was agony. But not agony alone.

Vakenroth reached his orgasm, seed flooding out across his chest. Valentina made a few more thrusts, she dragged that orgasm out longer. She toyed with that pleasure, warping it to pain and then back again.

And then finally for perhaps the first time. Valentina was sated.

She laid there, across Vakenroth's broken tail. Across the dragon's pelvis. Her head resting just before the rise of his cock. And she whispered "Thank you."

And then Valentina slept.

When she woke, Vakenroth was gone. The cave still reeked of seed and blood, much of the blood not her own. The whole of her body still ached. The dragon's tail had been too much for both of them, but there had been satisfaction there.

Perhaps a relief of dread. She had been penetrated by another. She was a virgin no more, not in any sense of the word. There was nothing that could be plucked from her. Nothing that could be claimed. She was a spent woman.

But she hadn't left the moment with that. She had turned it about and claimed Vakenroth all the same. If anything, she had made him suffer worse on their extended wedding night. She had claimed the role of the man for her own.

And in so doing fucked a dragon who did not understand or care for such distinctions.

Valentina raised herself to her feet. Vakenroth hadn't tried to kill her. If he was upset, he wasn't upset enough to want her dead. Or perhaps, while she was passed out, he had no way to express displeasure without lethality.

But he had gone without a word. Had Valentina chased him away again? Had the dragon escaped out of shame?

Valentina did not fear thirst or hunger anymore. She had discovered ways to survive in Vakenroth's absence. The loneliness would be far more deadly.

She raised herself up, walking unsteadily at first. Shifting her weight between her feet, testing how bad the injuries were. She was not as hampered as she feared.

If the soreness persisted, she could demand another potion to heal herself in full. But for the moment she would endure.

She walked about the cave slowly, crunching coins underneath her boots. The scent of Vakenroth was still fresh. He hadn't been gone for long. Valentina wasn't sure if her sense of smell had been heightened, or if just the dragon was a large enough creature that even the scent-blind could easily track him.

She wasn't sure the hour, but if Vakenroth was gone, knowing the pace of days was necessary. She didn't wish to climb the mountain for snow if it was already dark.

The night brought a chill beyond what she could tolerate.

She walked the wide path up and out of the cave, taking in the late afternoon light. Valentina wasn't sure if it was the same day, the next, or the day thereafter.

She walked out onto the scree, looking about. And then seeing him, in the distance. Little more than a bird at first, but he had seen her too, and with powerful wings he grew larger in the approach.

Within the minutem he had landed, shaking the mountainside and letting the gravel run. Pieces of stone striking Valentina's unguarded legs painfully in the process.

"You have returned." Valentina stated. It was a question unspoken. Was he upset? Had he intended to abandon her? To punish her for her roughness and cruelty?

"I did not leave for long." Vakenroth replied, studying Valentina carefully. Something had changed in his gaze. Ever since they met, Vakenroth had looked upon Valentina the way a cat looked upon an insect.

Wide-eyed intensity. Curiosity. Not open ****, not yet. A cruel patience, wanting to see how the insect would twitch. How the insect would struggle as the cat removed its limbs one by one.

There was still that feline aspect to him. But there was another shape to it. That intensity and curiosity. That malice was still there too. But it had taken another form.

The cat watched the insect to see how it would suffer. To see the shape of that suffering. The cat knew that the insect would die, but not how the insect would die.

But this was a deeper curiosity. Vakenroth looked at her with eager uncertainty. He wasn't sure what would happen with Valentina, what she would become, what her ultimate fate would be. But he was eager to find out.

A curiosity beyond cruelty.

Was that affection? Or what passed for such among dragons?

For Valentina it felt strangely thus. It was the first time someone looked at her without damning expectation.

"What did you see?" Valentina asked, venturing a guess. Something had drawn Vakenroth away, at least for a moment. Something more interesting than Valentina sleeping.

"The armies are still moving on Acre." Vakenroth stated simply. "Yet the fighting hasn't yet begun."

Valentina had a pang of guilt that she quickly dismissed. How long had she been the dragon's captive? Her old kingdom was being invaded, and she hadn't known. Had the neighboring kingdoms seized upon Acre's weakness?

No.

Something else must have happened.

"Show me."