Settling in; Starting my Collection

On Elderia, the days are longer, but the years are shorter. As the time passed I fell into a peaceful routine.

I would make sure to start every morning snuggled up with Ilithyia. She would wake, stretch, and scratch my head. "Good morning sweet girl! Who is my good girl? You are! Yes you are. You are my good girl yes, yes, yes." Ilithyia would say as she would scratch my belly.

<I love you to. You are my darling/angel/sweetling/joygirl> I responded. I would watch as the nubile shudder and smile from the caress of my mana upon her mind. It was slow, intricate, and delicate work, but over time my owner became thoroughly enthralled to my will. Bound as I was to Ilithyia, I spent considerable effort making sure that she was not the sort of girl to give me an actual order. At least, not one I would not want to obey on my own.

"Up." She would say gesturing to her shoulders. I would take my place, coiled snugly around the young girl's throat. As the years passed and I grew, we would play around with different configurations and forms. Sometimes, especially during her lessons she would wear me like a choker or a torque. During the warmer months when my girl went sun bathing or swimming at the beach I would stretch out and coil around her torso and limbs like a living body chain. During meals and most of her lessons we were inseparable.

When Bixi informed the Praetorix that his granddaughter now possessed mana-sense and showed a high potential for spellcraft. The old man was overjoyed and commanded his court mage to begin instructing Ilithyia, and by extension, myself, in the magical arts. "I wanna see the look on Washingson's face when my Helendra's daughter is accepted into Yalevard's magic college. Give the girl the best magical education. Her fortunes and yours are tied together." The old man had commanded.

Bixi had relished the challenge. From my perch, I soaked up the lessons on Motonic theory, managenic engineering, and both traditional and hexidecitheurgic spellcrafting. Whenever I wanted to explore a concept or learn more about a particular topic, I would steer the student and pupil into a dialogue about whatever I would interesting.

Magic was not the only subject on Ilithyia's curriculum. The girl had tutors for math, history, philosophy, natural sciences, gymnastics, riding, archery, self defense, Venusian arts, music, dancing, theology, and countless other subjects which bleed into the esoteric. What matters is I quickly learned a lot about my new world. When Ilithyia was studying something which was of little interest to me, I would hop off to my pocket dimension and work on some new trinket, gadget, or project.
My protective charms became a must have item among the gentry and moneyed classes of Cendor. As did my clay statues that turned into humanoids and necklaces, bracelets, and rings that enthralled people, which Bushrod made ample use of as gifts to important peers and potential clients.

The Praetorix's understanding of my potential as an asset grew as my understanding of how dire his situation and Cendor's as a whole truly was. The raiders from Kaldgrim and Anduvia were growing more bold. The people who survived the onslaught of the plundering reavers were moving away from the coasts, which meant less commerce, less wealth, and more misery.
To make matters worse. The Jeffertons had enemies among the Cendori aristocracy. Rival clans who would see Ilithyia's family ruined and my girl reduced to poverty and prostitution. After a few of his enemies disappeared when he had wished for such an event to happen in my presence, the old man got wise and began simply having a list of names waiting for me whenever I flew through his office.

Which is a good segue for me to talk about my collection. As it was pointed out, I am a prime breeder. In a pre-industrial country that is suffering from labor shortages, someone who can produce a dozen fully grown and trained chattel beasts or slaves is going to have a lot to offer the market. Of course, I cannot make scalelings solo. It takes two to tango. To that end, Ilithyia's grandfather was more than obliging.
In addition to the aforementioned lists of people to disappear, the praetorix in his role of high Lord and chief justice of the province, had decided to take a much harsher attitude towards enforcing the law amongst his subject. Crimes which had previously been punished with floggings, **** labor, or enslavement were now all met with "transportation" a new punishment which the peasants were led to believe involved being given as tribute to Kaldgrim sea lords or sacrificed by Malgoroth worshipers.

The latter was true. The prisoners would be brought down into the dungeons below the castle. In the dead of night when Ilithyia was sound asleep, I would slip from my angel's warm, willowy, arms and fly down to the dungeons to enjoy my newest playthings. The liked to wrap myself around my victims' bodies and tighten my coils until the mortal could barely breathe. I would often hold them down by their arms and legs down with my talons or lift their naked bodies into the air as my genitals probed them.

The males always took it much worse. There larger frames and increased aggression instinct meant that they would thrash and struggle all the harder as they felt their cocks engulfed by my phallic organ. If I had a penny for every time some human or orc cried because he thought that the dragon's dick was going to eat their cock and balls, I would be marginally wealthier. They always continue to whine and sob even after they survive the experience intact. For the women, once they had been penetrated, they rarely struggled, especially if I turned up the pheromones. They would struggle less with me and more with themselves. More than one lady had a nervous breakdown from how much she hated herself for enjoying being violated by a dragon. Where the women always lose it is when they pop out the eggs. It happens so suddenly and without any warning that they have a tendency to become overwhelmed with confusion and dread.

Once I had formed a few eggs with the prisoners, I had little need and no desire to keep most of them around. These convicts could fuck off and go to Hell, which they did through a one way portal to The Infernus. But some of the pretty boys and sweet girls, the occasional diamond in the rough, caught my attention and were to my liking. Those rare gems I sent to my harem lounge or my whore stables to be trained for their new lives as my playthings. My pretty boys and sweet girls learned quickly what was expected of them and that any boy, girl, mare, stallion, bitch, or hound that failed to provide me with enjoyment would enjoy a one way trip to eternal damnation.

My fecundity was such that I was stock piling my eggs and hatching them piecemeal based on my needs. I always made sure to provide Ilithyia's grandfather with a couple of dozen new chattels a week. Most of which found their way to the flesh market. Over time I came to see that I could not rely on demons alone for my staffing issues and began to train some of my scalespawn and scalelings as assistants, enforcers, tutors, and overseers for my ever growing collection of fuck toys.
The steady flow of prisoners was not enough to satisfy the demands of my libido or Bushrod's demand for half-dragons. After a few early hiccups, I learned the proverb "do not shit where you eat" is applicable to abducting new sex slaves. Thankfully, I could fly really fast. So on those nights when the dungeon under Reaganspar was quiet, I would take to the skies to prowl for fresh meat for fucking.

But regardless of how far I flew, or how much fun I was having taking the virginity of one of Andea's priestesses, I always made sure to be back in Ilithyia's bed before sunrise, snuggled in her bed, her body entangled in my coils.