Page 97 of Veiled Flames
I seize in fear. Our sphincter trainers, even the largest, are narrow at their insertion point. This pommel is decidedly not.
To gather courage, I decide to count to three before I push back.
One—
The dragon shifts and the pommel presses inside me.
I gasp in shock.
It’s not painful. Not painful at all. In fact, the thick saddle pommel feels as if it belongs inside me.
Strange sensations and even stranger visions, invade my mind and body. I feel full, fuller than with the largest trainer I’ve used, but I don’t feel as if the beast is fucking me, nor that he intends to.
While using trainers, I’ve often felt aroused—especially when my movements caused friction, or when my mind turned to thoughts of fucking. I’ve even stroked my rod while I had a trainer inside me. This is nothing like that. My own rod remains quiet.
I search to find words for all I’m feeling, so I can better recall and recount it to my compeers.
The pommel expands, and I suck in a breath. The section that’s a few finger-widths inside me, doubles, perhaps triples in size.
This is the knotting. I’ve heard it described, but no description could explain the experience. I thought I felt stretched wide before. I had no idea.
The knot continues to expand, and all the breath is forced from my lungs as I accommodate and absorb the dragon’s massive and expanding pommel.
I’m hit with a strong wave of emotion—and a deep sense of understanding.
Xendus. A deep voice enters my mind. But it’s not really a voice, per se. Not exactly.
Yet, I’m certain I know the beast’s name. Xendus. And his deep voice confirmed that he’s decidedly male.
Raising his head, Xendus roars, and shoots a stream of fire ahead of us.
Surath rapidly beats her wings and rises. But instead of flying toward us, Saxon keeps her hovering, about fifty spans above the wall, as if he’s waiting for me to move.
Fly,I think.Take flight, Xendus. How do I make this beast move?
Suddenly my vision changes completely. I can still see through my own eyes, but it’s like I’m also seeing through the dragon’s. The world is so much bigger now, so much brighter, and I can make out details far into the distance. The jagged peaks of the mountains between us and the veil come into sharp focus. Xendus lifts his head, blocking my eye line, and yet I can still see ahead. I don’t understand.
But I don’t have time to think. Xendus stretches his wings, pushes off the floor of the canyon and takes flight. Excitement rushes inside me, along with the rushing air against my ears and eyes as we rise.
Higher and higher, Xendus takes me straight up, and I remember that I’m supposed to tell him where to go. But I’m not sure where weshouldgo. To the veil? I’m not armed for combat.In my haste, I left the loaded saddlebags behind and have only the broadswords on my back.
Another dragon rushes past us, coming so close that the wind nearly knocks me off my mount. Then the dragon sweeps past us again in the other direction.
It’s Saxon and Surath. They’re flying around us in a tight circle. Is this a trial of some kind? Is Saxon trying to knock me off my mount? But then I realize how secure I feel. With his knot, Xendus is holding me tightly against him, and he soothes my fears through our bond.
Saxon and Surath fly forward, following the other three dragons. I didn’t even notice when those three left their perches.
Xendus surges forward, creating intense pressure inside my body. As we soar, the pommel expands yet again. But the connection makes me feel even more secure atop his back, as if invisible straps have wrapped around me, as if Xendus and I are now one.
“Follow Surath,” I say, even though I’m not sure if he can hear or understand me.
I sense pure joy from Xendus. Joy as strong as if it were my own. And some of the joy is actually my own. I’m thrilled that I succeeded to mount this dragon, but Xendus is perhaps even happier.
As we fly after Surath, our combined joy expands. Xendus is off the ground, after Othrix knows how many years, and I’ve found my life’s purpose.
I am a dragon rider.
I’ll never again return to Khotor. At least not as a mere member of the royal family.
