"Homework"

Whatever alterations to the original designs Yvara might have made were subtle enough that John couldn't pick them out from the images he remembered. All his eyes saw was a new take on a very classical maid outfit, almost resembling her actual temple robes in some amusing ways. A black dress, loose but fitted well enough not to catch on anything, with elegant white lace frills around the hem and at the end of each short sleeve. The bust of the dress was colored white, which blended it into the somewhat small white apron tied around Yvara's neck and again at her navel, keeping it from flapping loose as she moved, and there was even a white headband tucked just in front of her draconic horns, keeping her brown hair held out of her face.

"Oh no. 'Homework', John, you absolute clown," John groaned internally, his eye twitching as he fought to keep his expression neutral. "She found the maid folder!"

Hardly one of his more degenerate fetishes, but one that brought a slight crimson to his cheeks all the same as he pictured Yvara clicking through his admittedly impressive collection. Clicking through photo after photo of cosplayers, porn stars, and actual maids, all the while thinking them some kind of brainstorming collage. And for proper housekeepers of all things, not even his lovers!

"It's quite a breezy little thing despite how much it covers. Quite comfortable to wear for long periods of time, too," Yvara noted, swirling around slightly. As the motion lifted up the hem of her outfit enough to expose the barest glimpse of her groin, Yvara let out a frightened squeak and slammed her hands down on the skirt, pinning it to her crotch. A single puff of gray smoke wafted from her shoulder as a small piece of fabric seared off, radiating a soft orange light as it tore away from the outfit and burned away in an instant.

"I m-might have preferred a slightly longer skirt, but nearly every image you had gathered together featured a skirt well on the shorter side of those I found online. And, erm, it's not my place to question the Lord's preferences, so I-"

Yvara worked against herself in her attempts to cover more. As her hands pulled the front down, she twisted to the side, intending to aid in hiding her "shame", but doing so only exposed other angles, revealing the sides and the back of her surprisingly lacy panties. Yvara made adorable little squeals every time she noticed the shamelessly sexy panties peeking through at a different angle, searching in vain for a way to keep herself completely hidden, something that was all but impossible

"You should, uh, you should probably take that off, Yvara," John mumbled quietly, averting his eyes from the dragoness as she fidgeted in the dress.

"What was that? S-sorry, Lord, you were rather quiet, and I'm having some—err, some difficulties with the uniform. Perhaps I should have made a few more alterations. What did you say?" Yvara stepped a little closer to John, something that brought her right back into his view, her white undergarments still frequently revealing themselves as she moved.

"You should change back into your normal robes," John said, a little bit louder than he meant to. Yvara froze on the spot, as if she’d suddenly become another of the statues decorating the temple.

"Oh dear, have I done something wrong?" Yvara's fidgeting turned to twitching, a panicked sort of flittering about as she seemed tempted to rip the dress off on the spot, but realized the consequences a moment before it was too late. "These weren't dresses for servants at all, were they, Lord John? Oh dear, have I worn something intended for one of your concubines? Or- oh no, were those images meant as inspiration for dresses that your wives might wear?! Of course they were, I should have realized when they were so revealing. I swear to you, I meant no disrespect! The very audacity of that... I'll see to my own punishment, Lord John, I'll-"

"It's not that!" John announced, forcing himself to look Yvara in the eyes, trying to ignore the way that her anxious meandering caused the skirt to twist about again, exposing her panties almost completely, with the dragoness too panicked to be worried about her decency this time. "Those dresses were—well, they're called maid dresses, or maid uniforms. They are for house cleaning, so, erm, points for that. But I wasn't collecting those images to use for brainstorming dress ideas for my wives. Or, well, not for anyone."

"Oh? Then those images must have been-"

Yvara was a touch oblivious at times, and she had a reverence for John that put him on a pedestal in ways that made her not think of simpler explanations for things, but even she was quick enough to realize the obvious purpose of such a gallery.

"Y-yeah. And you look, just, really amazing in that uniform." John shifted a bit, trying to keep his eyes off Yvara's scaled legs and the tantalizing glimpses beneath her skirt.

"Y-you find those outfits attractive, and think... you think I…"

Yvara's maid uniform had done a fantastic job at giving glimpses of the glorious near-lingerie underneath, but what happened next put them on full display. Yvara's cheeks turned a color so brilliantly red it would've put Lerianna's lingerie to shame, and in doing so, heated her own body up to such a degree that John could actually feel the warmth radiating off her.

"A-and I was wearing it. In front of you. Showing off m-my panties while wearing a uniform you find so attractive, that you- you-"

As she spoke and sputtered her words out, a single plume of smoke peeled up from the collar of her maid outfit—then in a matter of moments, the entire thing went up in a temporary, glorious blaze. Yvara squealed a little at the sudden conflagration, but was otherwise completely unharmed. Not even her hair showed any signs of being singed; she stood there, clad in her apparently more heavily-enchanted underwear, glaring at the floor in a mixture of shame and resignation.

"-that you're getting turned on right now," Yvara finished, her voice lathered in a sense of **** acceptance. She seemed to realize that there was no possible way she could get more embarrassed than she already was. "So turned on you're getting hard right now, aren't you?"

"W-well, I can't exactly help that," John admitted. His bashfulness had taken a pretty severe beating after so long spent around so many wonderful—and beautiful—women, but John still felt a bit self-conscious being called out like that by such a shy woman. He shifted his balance, trying to make the bulge in his pants stand out a little bit less.

"You should feel no need to."

Yvara's first step was slow and hesitant, her eyes drifting toward John but never meeting his figure. She traced the tips of her feet along the ground, shuffling one leg at a time as she moved inexorably forward. The claws of her fingertips clacked nervously together from her fidgeting, and he could see her legs quivering a little with each step, as if threatening to give out, but she continued on all the same. Only when she was within arm's reach did she come to a stop, taking a wary stance and lowering herself to her knees in front of him. John couldn't tear his eyes off her, especially when her newly lowered position reduced his view to her determined expression and a lewd downward angle into her cleavage, framed perfectly by both her bra and the scales of her collarbones.

"Yvara, what are you doing?" John asked quietly, his voice half a whisper. Yvara's eyes were locked firmly on his groin, her hands hovering above his waist just a few centimeters away from the bulge.

"I have made a careless mistake, and caused you some," Yvara paused, swallowing loudly, "discomfort. I would do my duty to alleviate it. If you'll allow me, Lord John."

"You don't have to—"

"I-I, I-" Yvara spoke loudly enough to interrupt John, but she still took a moment to **** the words out, "I would like to, Lord John. I would very much like to. But I dare not lay a hand on the Lord without his permission. Will you please give me permission?"

"I don't want this to feel like an obligation, whether you say you want to or not," John murmured. A small voice in his head, one that had been popping up a fair bit more recently, shouted in an angry and very horny voice about how stupid he was for questioning things with a very willing and very exposed woman kneeling in front of him, but he ignored it. "Would you do this if I wasn't- well, if you didn't view me as the Lord?"

"You're as thoughtful as ever, Lord John. But I can't pretend to answer that question honestly," Yvara acknowledged. Her tone took on a more serious air, one only slightly undercut by the way her eyes never left the outline in his trousers. She bit her lip for a moment before continuing, gathering herself and speaking slowly to get the words out properly.

"I've only ever known you as the Lord. It has shaped not just our relationship, but who I am this very day, from the moment I was old enough to read the temple's scripture. I know you feel some manner of responsibility for those you have gathered here, even if I have a difficult time seeing things in the same way as you. All I can say is that, even if you believe my devotion now is unduly influencing me, every single decision that led me to this point was one I made on my own, including to embrace and feed that devotion. I know you cannot fully understand how strongly I believe in you, as I cannot fully understand the guilt you feel over it. But I... I would ask that you accept it's what I want. Th-that all of this is a part of me. Who I am."

By the end, Yvara's resolve was beginning to falter. She was twisting and twitching, and her words started to warble and waver as she spoke her last. For such a shy creature, the dragoness' insistence on speaking so plainly really did give John a glimpse into just how strongly she felt about things. As Yvara swayed slightly on her knees, hands clutched in front of her chest, John hesitantly reached down and began to lace his fingers through her short hair. Yvara hummed quietly, leaning into his hand, and a faint groan whispered between her lips as he traced around the base of her horns.

"Whatever the case is, whether it's my fault she's this way or not, she's right. This is who she is, just like the rest of them. If I don't accept that, aren't I just telling them that what they are is wrong?"

"Then I suppose, if you want to..." John murmured, meeting Yvara's shining eyes when his words drew her attention to his face, "...I would actually love that. You really do look incredibly sexy in that maid outfit, you know. Though it's really not an imposition for you to turn me on, you know. Not, err, something you have to take 'responsibility' for."

"I-I didn't intend to look 'sexy' when I made this uniform, I'll admit, but hearing you say that makes me happy," Yvara said, the words a little muffled as she shyly pressed a hand to her lips. "Lord John, may I?"

"Yes."

There came a faint clicking sound as Yvara reached for his pants again, her fingers trembling and nudging against one another as she deftly handled the button and zipper with her sharp claws. It took her a moment to succeed at the unfamiliar motions, but John didn't mind. Watching her mix of frustration and embarrassment as she tugged at his jeans was cute and sexy at the same time, and the relief he felt when his pants finally loosened and were quickly pulled away made the wait more than worth it.

Without the restraint of his pants, John's cock pressed out a little further, straining against the boxers and making the full extent of his arousal just a little bit clearer to Yvara. With her face now only inches away from it, Yvara seemed to stop breathing entirely, doing little else but stare, save for one nervous swallow. The fingers that had so insistently tugged at his jeans now hesitated before the elastic band of his boxers.

A flicker of blue light danced along Yvara's fingertips and the claws were surrounded by a solid azure glow—John wasn't entirely sure of the purpose until her claws slipped their way into his underwear. Any sharpness that had been on the claws was covered, dulled and protected by a thick layer of mana, and he could only feel a cool sensation against his skin as she slid the fabric down.

"O-oh my. Lord John's... Lord John's…"

Yvara's held breath had turned into near-hyperventilation, her breaths coming in shuddering gasps as she leaned closer. Her eyes darted up to him once, twice, and then yet a third time in the span of a few seconds as she hovered there with his cock now freed and standing proudly before her. She seemed to be checking for permission to continue, or perhaps to see if all this was some sort of dream altogether. John gave an encouraging nod, which seemed to give her the determination she needed to truly begin things.

"I've practiced with, um, with toys that were designed to model the Lord's glorious member. B-but I fear those were only an approximation, and most did not seem quite so- so large," Yvara explained, her eyes never straying from the head of his cock. "I've only ever been with women before, a-and not many of them at that. I will do my best, but-"

"Yvara, you're going to make me feel wonderful, whatever you do. I promise you that much. You're already making me…"

John deliberately trailed off, ending the sentence with a breathy sigh instead. After all that he'd seen of the dragoness' literature which she had (allegedly) accidentally loaned out to Aclysia, he could only guess at just how powerful Yvara's imagination was. Judging by the way her cheeks started to darken after he went quiet, and continued even as she gave the faintest of nods, quite powerful indeed... and every bit as lewd as he'd hoped.

Yvara leaned in, pressing a hand against his inner thigh, and gently wrapping her other around his cock. John hissed at the warmth that greeted him; her palm felt like a smoldering fire, and he was reminded of just how easily the dragoness could turn a full garment into a pile of ashes. But although the degree to which her body had superheated did catch him off-guard, John's magically empowered body had long since grown strong enough that he could stand in a mundane fire without any physical damage—Yvara would've had to run as hot as magma for him to feel any real pain. If anything, once the initial shock passed, the added heat made Yvara's delicate fingers all the more stimulating.

"My Lord... your cock, it's so very warm," Yvara whispered. The words came with an audible moan that was quickly stifled, and John could've sworn the woman's legs twitched a little further apart at the very same moment.

"I was about to say the same of your hands," John said, letting his own groan answer her muffled sounds.

"S-sorry about that," Yvara stammered, her eyes never leaving his member. "I learned early on that I had to focus on keeping my hands cool when handling certain delicate objects. But I'm afraid that my, erm, state of mind right now is making it difficult to keep the heat fully under control."

"No need to apologize, I quite like it. Your hand feels... very good."

John groaned as Yvara gave his length a slow and tentative stroke. It was clear from the way that she kept her grip loose, her hand only barely wrapped around him, that Yvara had little to no actual experience in these things. Even if she had practiced with toys of various shapes, and even if her hand's warm touch made every stroke feel incredible, there was still no replacing real sexual experience.

But Yvara was a quick study, and had quite the memory, going by the number of books she'd managed to recreate from the temples of her home world. Her early strokes were endearingly clumsy, but in the span of just a few short minutes, her skill started to improve, and her confidence along with it. Her lust, too. Once she was familiar enough with John's manhood that she didn't have to focus on the basic motion, Yvara's mind shifted from analytical to lascivious once again.

"Your cock is leaking so much," she gasped, her eyes wide as she watched a fresh drop of precum well up at the tip of John's shaft. "L-Leaking, a-and twitching! I didn't expect the twitching. It's almost like a little pulse. A-and the fluid is so slick. Oh my. Lord John... do you mind if I-?"

John's only answer was another encouraging moan as Yvara began to rub her fingers across his cock's head, her thumb gently massaging the area around the opening, spreading the clear liquid around. Her skin began to take on even more heat as she did so, her fingers nearly throbbing against his sensitive flesh as she worked him. Each time her hand reached the tip again, her palms took on more and more of his essence until her strokes were as smooth as they were heated. Her grip tightened ever-so-slightly as John began to groan a little bit louder, his own breath starting to grow a bit more ragged and uncontrolled.

"L-Lord John... I'm going to lick you now," Yvara murmured, the declaration seemingly meant for her sake more than his. "This will be, erm, even warmer. Though I've been told by the women of the temple that could bear it that it is even more pleasant than my fingers..."

"I can't wait," John said earnestly, feeling the first hints of pressure in his core. His words drew another soft whimper out of Yvara's throat as she shifted in place again, the dragoness' thighs now rubbing against each other with every little movement she made.

Her eyes locked with his for just a moment as Yvara's draconic tongue stretched out to brush across the underside of his cock's head, and they both shuddered in unison at the touch - she at the feel of his precum dripping onto her tongue, he at the incredible warmth that met his sensitive glans. It felt as though Yvara was using the flat of a hot stone against him, one heated by the bright summer sun, but with an impossible softness that made the touch all the more pleasurable.

"Mmh- oh, Lord John…"

Yvara let her lips press to his glans, letting a soft breath of steaming air waft across the tip before she opened her jaw wider and began to ease him into her mouth proper. John's legs trembled at the feeling of her generous lips gliding across the surface of his head, and the warmth of the dragoness' tongue as it wrapped around him made him throb almost immediately. The inside of Yvara's mouth was just as promisingly warm as she'd made it out to be, but as her tongue slid up and down his shaft, and her lips sucked ever so gently on the head of his cock, the temperature of the wet and slick flesh pressed to his cock seemed to heat up even further. It was beyond the range his body could adapt to, so even as the moment wore on, his cock felt every degree, his body trembling from the feeling of having a part of his manhood being lathered in that affectionate warmth.

"Is it okay? Does my tongue feel alright?" Yvara mumbled around a mouthful of cock, the slight pressure from her jaw making the head of his length press against the roof of her mouth. John couldn't help but moan a little louder as he nodded, trying not to buck his hips toward that delicious sensation as her tongue swirled around his crown once again.

"More than alright. Not sure I... could've handled this a few months back," John admitted, his voice strained, though still clear enough to carry his words.

"I'm sorry! I-I can't, um-"

John gave Yvara a soft, reassuring smile before the woman could get any ideas in her head that he was trying to say it was too hot. In fact, he'd been resisting the urge to shove his entire length into her throat since the very moment she started sucking, his self-control the only thing that had kept her mouth unharmed. To ease her panic, and to reassure her that the very last thing he wanted was for her to stop, John moved his hands to the side of her head and gave her horns the gentlest of squeezes, subtly nudging her mouth forward again. Yvara's cheeks turned bright crimson and her eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the pressure against her scalp, and with an eagerness that betrayed her excitement, the dragoness opened her jaw wide again and slipped his member back inside. John's smile turned into a grin, and his grip loosened, fingers trailing up and down Yvara's horns, massaging her head while the devoted dragoness returned her attention to his throbbing shaft.

Her movements were a bit more confident and relaxed now, as Yvara began to bob her head slowly back and forth along his member. Her motions weren't quite smooth, as she had to adjust herself with every little thrust, but that in itself was a unique pleasure that he relished. One hand was pressed flat to the floor to give herself balance as she worked her mouth, but the way that she squirmed was hint enough that Yvara's other hand was very much occupied, the movements of her wrist visible even between her generous thighs. He almost wanted to direct them into a different position just to get a better view of her touching herself, but John found himself unwilling to interrupt her for anything at that moment.

The heat from the depths of Yvara's throat was a little more intense than even her tongue. It wasn't so hot as to actually hurt him, but it was close enough that his eyes were **** shut from the sensation as she tried to take his full length in. Even without seeing, he could tell Yvara had to crane her neck at an awkward angle to get all of him into her mouth, and although her efforts to take all of him in made his hips tremble, she simply wasn't used to it. With a quiet, strained sound from the dragoness, she withdrew her mouth from around his member, leaving behind a slick coating of her saliva and a lingering heat that radiated along his entire shaft.

"S-sorry, Lord John. It's... well, your cock is... I'm having a difficult time-"

"Yvara, the last thing I want you to do when we're enjoying ourselves like this is apologize to me," John murmured. He stroked the top of her head and pressed her horns between his thumb and index finger in the hopes that the gesture would reassure the nervous woman. "You're making me feel amazing. I don't need you to worry about not being good enough. If you keep this up, I'm going to cum very soon."

His words and tone certainly seemed to soften her near-constant look of worry, but the mention of his approaching climax seemed to trigger something else entirely. She stared up at him, eyes wide and lips trembling. Then, without any further warning, Yvara wrapped both of her hands around John's waist and took his length into her mouth, swallowing his length right up until it pushed against the entrance to her throat. This time, she was able to hold it there for a short while, her lips tantalizingly close to the base, but she didn't let herself remain still for long.

She bobbed her head, back and forth, with the same tentative motions that she'd started off with. But this time, with his member pushing at her throat, her tongue and lips sliding across his skin, and that wonderful warmth of hers radiating through him, John's resolve quickly wavered. It didn't take her more than a few strokes to get the hang of things again, and her slow, careful motions soon grew into confident, sensual strokes of her lips. Each time his cock prodded at the entrance to her throat, Yvara let out a muffled whimper around his shaft, the sound vibrating along the length and forcing a gasp from John's own mouth.

His hands shook atop the dragoness' head, his grip around her horns growing firmer as his pleasure continued to climb. For a brief moment his mind wandered to the uniform she'd brought him here to show off, now reduced to nothing but a few small piles of ash. He thought about what she would've looked like with the dress on her as she sucked him off, her mouth eagerly taking in his shaft—or perhaps pinned against the wall of the temple with her skirt hiked up to her waist, his cock pumping away at her pussy instead of her mouth. John's imagination quickly filled his head with a dozen scenarios, and his hips began to move of their own accord before he could fully realize just how badly he wanted her.

The feeling of her Lord thrusting against her seemed to bring out an intense desire in Yvara, one that was clearly reflected in the way her jaw and lips tightened around his member, the pressure making his head spin with every little motion of his hips. She didn't seem to know quite how to react, but if the sounds that kept coming out of her were any indication, her uncertainty didn't keep her from enjoying the sensation of being used by him. She gave the best nod that she could while he was lightly bucking against her mouth, eyes shining with an almost feverish lust, urging John to continue on and use her mouth for his pleasure.

He didn't have to be asked twice. Yvara was clearly enjoying every moment of this, her fingers dancing merrily between her legs, and if he had no reason to hold himself back, he was more than happy to give in to his lusts. John groaned, shifting his stance to better allow his hips to move back and forth, his shaft pumping in and out of the warm, welcoming embrace of Yvara's throat. He couldn't bring himself to be rough, not without some sign that the dragoness could take it, but Yvara didn't seem to care. She let out a low, needy sound every time his head pressed at the back of her mouth, and as he grew closer and closer to climax, she did everything in her power to urge him onward.

Her lips and tongue caressed him with a fervent, reverential passion. His precum spilled down the dragoness' throat in an unending stream, each throb of his length forcing another small gush into the back of her mouth, but she never seemed to gag on it or falter in her motions, not for a second. Her hands gripped him tight, tugging his waist to bring him just a little deeper into her throat. And those needy, whimpering moans that she was making vibrated through the length, driving him absolutely crazy as her mouth did its best to draw out his cum.

"I'm getting close, Yvara," John warned. His words only made Yvara moan louder, her eyes locking onto his and watching his expression as he drew close to his orgasm. He couldn't tear his gaze from the view of his cock disappearing into the dragoness' hungry maw, his member pushing against the back of her mouth as her nose nearly brushed against the hair around his crotch. Each of her strokes was a bit faster, a bit rougher, a bit sloppier than before, and the wet sounds of her mouth as she suckled at him made his legs shake.

"I'm... I'm cumming!"

John's grip on her horns grew almost tight as he bucked his hips forward a final time. He held the dragoness steady with his length nestled as deep in her mouth as she could handle, groaning out loud as his member began to pulse, firing his load right into her waiting, wanting throat. Yvara let out a muffled cry of pleasure around him as her mouth was flooded with cum, a high-pitched sound that turned into an even louder moan a few seconds later. John didn't need to see where her hand was to know that the devoted woman had gotten herself off at the same moment, her body shaking from a powerful climax while her Lord filled her belly with his cum. As her tongue slid along the underside of his shaft through the last pulses of his release, milking every last drop from his cock, the sensation and the release made John's legs tremble nearly as strongly as hers.

"Did you, erm... enjoy yourself, Lord John?" Yvara asked once she'd finished swallowing down every bit of his cum, her mouth popping free from his still-hard length with an audible, wet slurping noise. Her tongue remained outstretched ever so slightly, as if she were still considering whether or not to take him back into her mouth.

"It was incredible," John said honestly, a ditzy grin plastered on his face.

"That is... grand to hear, my Lord."