Run away!

You run.

No one could blame you. You'd like to see Sir Peter or Sir Tomas brave a dragon in nothing but their underthings. Because they would lose and validate your reasons for running. Not because they're both allegedly very attractive.

Your mind goes weird places when in mortal danger, apparently.

You make it to the tree line, roots cutting into your bare feet as you flee for your life. Freyr can't be too far behind. Stealth forgotten, he crashes through the trees after you, hardly impeded at all by the woods.

You don't look back, to look back would be to lose your footing and die.

The chase is short lived, for all your ambition you're only human. Your tired sweaty body slows down after ten minutes of fear induced running. A massive scaled hand wraps around your waist and hefts you into the sky, the claws cutting into you skin painfully. You scream.

"Oh do be quiet." Freyr grumbles. He's holding you up to his face like a child might play with a doll. "You had your chance to talk, don't scream at me now."

Your face is wet with tears, you don't know when they started and it's only now that you're no longer running that you notice them. You struggle in his grip, but it only serves to make his claws cut deeper into you.

Freyr waits for you to go limp in his hand before he talks again. "I have to ask, seeing as you've caught my attention. But what exactly do you think you were doing, camping so close to a dragon?"

You swallow your tears to speak- to lie or distract or flirt your way out of this like a storybook hero. What comes out of your mouth instead is a murmured, "please don't kill me."

He laughs at you. Mouth wide open as he bellows with laughter, you can see the rows of giant teeth and the depth of his maw. You begin to shake in his grip.

"Oh no, no, I decided I'd eat you the moment I laid eyes on you. Pretty young thing like you practically delivered to my doorstep, how could I say no? Not to mention living with Elly and not wanting to eat her has been driving me nuts these past few years." He licks his lips and you shudder.

"Please." You try again, looking into his eyes. "I-"

"You what?" He rumbles. "Face it, your only value to me is as a meal." He reaches up and snaps your breast coverings with a claw, freeing your pink nipples to the afternoon air. Another movement with a claw rids you of your remaining undergarments.

You shiver as your last remains of modesty is torn from you. Now nude, you notice the bite of the chill in the air. The only warmth comes from Freyr's massive fist closed around your waist.

You try to think of a cunning plan of escape, but the only thoughts you can pull together are from the chill on the air and the clouds in the sky it will rain soon.

With no plan of escape you open your mouth to argue again, but instead your breath hitches as Freyr opens his mouth and snakes a forked tongue around one of your dangling legs. You try to pull your leg away from the sticky tongue but it's curled firmly over your muscled thighs by this point. The split tip of the dragons tongue brush against your folds, and you frantically buck away in an attempt to free yourself.

"Please." You try again, mind stunned into action by the mental image of Freyr's tongue pulling you into his belly like a frog. "I had no intention of slaying you, honest! I was just- oh!" Your begging is cut off as one of the probing tips of his tongue slips inside your folds, the wet and hot sensation throwing you for a loop.

The tip pushes in and out of you, the other tip occasionally rubbing against your clitoris. It shames you to admit that Freyr tasting you brings you pleasure. His already slick tongue makes better progress inside you as you begin to leak feminine fluids.

"Stop! I can- ah! I can go aw-AY! Stop!" Your attempts to stop Freyr tasting you don't amount to much. You try to dig your hands into the space between your skin and his fist but he's holding onto you too tightly.

Freyr's tongue is large enough the tip presses against your virginity on his next taste. The idea of losing your virginity in such a cruel manner makes you struggle harder. "You can't! I'm a virgin, you can't do-AGH!" The tongue pushes through your hymen as if it wasn't there at all. The pain is less than you'd thought it would be, and Freyr doesn't stop tasting you and bringing you pleasure. You feel like you betrayed yourself when the pain is quickly swept away by the tongue fucking.

Freyr makes a contented humming sort of noise when he tastes your blood, then he steps up the intensity of your ordeal. Where the tip was content to merely thrust before it now tickles and curls inside your walls. Blood rushes to your cheeks as the sensation finally gets to you, a pathetic whimper coming out of your closed lips. At some point after you lost your virginity you stopped thrashing around to escape, instead letting your legs fall limply and grabbing a single finger with both of your hands like you'd grab an arm of a parent for comfort.

Freyr pulls the tip out of you and you feel less complete with its loss. You watch the line of blood, juices and saliva pull taunt between your slit and his tongue before breaking, leaving your crotch area a mess. He rumbles another low chuckle as you whimper once again. "I find this an excellent way of tasting the blood of my female food before I eat them whole. They tend to go down a bit smoother when they're cooperative like this." The words anger you but you can't muster up a glare, instead you turn your burning face away from the dragon in shame.

This makes you miss the moment he lets go, sending you tumbling into his mouth. It's big enough it hold you completely when his teeth clamp together and trap you inside.

Your first impression is darkness, you can barely make out the red muscle that lines the inside of Freyr's mouth. Your second impression is warmth, a stark difference from the afternoon chill your naked body was feeling a moment before. Your final impression is that it's wet, your body lands on his oversized tongue with a squelching sound as you get covered in saliva head to toe.

You try to get to your feet inside the slick maw, but before you make any progress Freyr's tongue lifts under you and presses you into the ceiling of his mouth. Your nipples rub against this ceiling as your breasts are flattened with the pressure. The tongue laps up and down your backside, covering you with saliva. Your hair feels three times as heavy with how soaked it is. There's too much liquid and movement for you to properly scream your distress but you try anyways.

Your arms and legs flail and fight, trying to crawl towards the faint light his closed teeth let in. You make progress several times but the tongue drags you down whenever you get anywhere close. He's toying with you, you realize. You're going to be eaten. There's nothing you can do.

You keep struggling as the warm and slick tongue slithers up and down your spine. If you're going to go out like this...