Wyrm's Reward

//System_run_Agent_Kitsun-eR3
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//System_run_AnalyzeR3
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//unknownuser2_entered_node
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//unknownuser2<admin>_assigned status(admin)
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//ERROR
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//unkownuser2<admin>_run_transfer_nb328
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//ERROR
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//unkownuser2<admin>_logout
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//System_run_AnalyzeR3
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//Account_status_0.00


Frames slowly dragged himself out of VR, a splitting headache coming with him. Eighteen million nuyen. He’d really managed to pull it off. Eighteen million. He had been probing the account for months, waiting until a hole in the firewall showed up. After that it was simple, child’s play, to drain the account and send the funds to his employer.

Frames had considered skimming a few nuyen off the top, just a hundred or two, for himself, but his employer would know; she was very meticulous, very good with numbers, and even if it took years for he to realize it, even if he changed his name and ran, she would find him and punish him. Just the thought of the scaly bitch made him livid; the greedy lizard was a multi-millionaire now, though Frames assumed she already had a considerable amount of wealth before he started working for her. She paid him handsomely for his work, better then any Johnson had when he worked as a Shadowrunner. But he never hated, feared and loathed a Johnson like her.

It was one of the golden rules: never make a deal with a dragon. The wyrms had a reputation, and one they earned and made no effort to dispel, as manipulative, callous, Machiavellian monsters beyond the scope of metahuman understanding. Each one was hundreds, if not thousands of years old and possessed terrible magical powers. They were patient, malicious and cruel. And even if you managed to avoid angering one, managed to escape becoming a pawn in the draconic political game that turned so many metahumans into crunchy snacks, there was always the threat that one of the dragon’s rivals might charbroil you to antagonize your employer.

But Chumana had enticed him into decking for her long before he knew her scaly nature. She had met him as an attractive, though emotional, lady from Pueblo, and offered him pay so extravagant he couldn’t refuse. The jobs were tough. Herculean even, but worth the seemingly endless amount of nuyen Chumana rewarded him with.

He hated the wyrm. He knew that he had been roped into some scheme; she had money. Lots of money. Enough that eighteen million wouldn’t make her bat an eye. She the account drained, he presumed, as an attack on it’s owner. Frames only hoped it wasn’t someone who didn’t care about collateral damage.

Frames opened a can of Omega Fizz and drank, reclining in his swivel chair and congratulating himself on a job well done, consequences be damned.

It was then a sharp ringing rang in his head, enough to make his data jacks ache.

“I take it from my credit account the jobs done, Frames?” Rang Chumana’s harsh, almost ragged voice.

“Would it kill you to use a commlink boss?” Thought Frames. Another thing he hated about Chumana; magic. She loved to show off with magic, especially when she knew Frames couldn’t do anything but suffer through her spells.

“Ill let that remark slide, Frames. Remember, I can have your thrown back in the gutter with a word, and fill that gutter with broken glass with another. I was just going to say how happy I am. I take it you broke in in a way as not to leave any virtual traces that might incriminate me or my operations? Because if you did, that broken glass can turn into bullets very quickly.”

Frames gulped down more Fizz and spun in his chair, scratching his datajacks with his cheap, dented cyber hand. He had lost the original on his first run, and though the worn piece of second-hand junk was, well, junk, it had some sentimental meaning to him. He couldn’t bring himself to upgrade it past its original specs, much less trade it out for something new. The only thing he ever did to the hand was give it a fresh coat of paint now and then.

“Not a chance ma’am. Purge’d the track programs and recoded the agents to cover my access logs. My ID was spoofed to begin with, and -”

“Spare me the shoptalk. We’re going to do things a little differently today; I have your pay with me right now, nice little Gold-grade credstick, maxed out and without any RFID tags. Come on over to Shiawase Towers, penthouse suite and its all yours. You have thirty five minutes, starting….now.”

Frames chugged the remainder of his soda and sprinted out the door. Shiawase Towers was across town, and according to his cybereye’s image link, traffic was bad.

Another thing to add to the long list of things he hated the wyrm for.

Sweating, shaking and with knocking knees, Frames shuffled into the Shiawase Towers elevator. He had needed to do some creative decking on his way over; sending a fake accident report to the cars ahead of him to get them to turn away, hacking traffic signals to turn reds to greens, even spoofing speed cameras into thinking his vehicle was obeying the limit.

And now in the elevator, he simply sent a snaking line of code past the tower’s outdated firewalls, overriding the system’s instructions and riding the elevator all the way to the top despite having never touched the fingerprint scanner that was supposed to keep out unwanted guests.

The door to the penthouse slid open, revealing the spacious, gilded room within. High-tech trideo screens that covered the walls gave the impression that the room sat in the void of space, an illusion only broken by the wide, concave window that occupied the far wall. The shiny, stainless-steel floor reflected the glittering starlight of the trideos, though most of it was covered by a fluffy white carpet. Facing the window was a black leather couch, and reclining in it, facing away from Frames, was Chumana.

“Almost thought you wouldn’t make it,” she said, this time actually speaking instead of communicating via telepathy.

“Come on over Frames. Sit down, live a little.”

Frames swallowed dryly and obeyed, both out of fear and curiosity. Chumana’s skin was the dull reddish brown of the Hopi women she impersonated, a long black mohawk hanging in a thick braid over her shoulder. She was thickset, with a wide jaw and broad nose. She wore reflective silver nail polish, and to Frames’ surprise, a puffy baby-blue bathrobe, which she had left untied. Her legs were folded to conceal her sex, and though the robe kept her nipples hidden, her cleavage was on display for anyone to see.

And her eyes. The shape changing spells she used couldn’t change her eyes; they were still the red, slit-pupil’d things that belonged in the head of a giant, cold blooded monster.

“Ma’am,” stammered Frames, scratching his datajacks, and looking away sheepishly, “would you like to cover up first? I can wait for the money if it doesn’t bother you, I’ve got nothing-”

“Sit, Frames. That was an order, not a request.”

The decker complied, still averting his eyes from the curvy dragon. Chumana reached into her robe and pulled out a credstick; a slender, black drive  the size of his middle finger, with a thin gold band around one end. She waved it back and forth in front of Frames’ eyes, before tossing it aside. The nuyen-laden stick clinked on the floor and rolled away, Frames’ wide eyes following his reward.

Suddenly a powerful grip seized his chin and turned him to face Chumana. Though she resembled a human her strength was still draconic, and her powerful hands held him at eye level with her cold, reptilian orbs.

“I SAID how happy I was that the job went smoothly, Frames. But I say a lot of things, very few of them true.”

Chumana rolled her arm, letting the robe fall slightly and revealing her soft shoulder.

“I thought today I’d show you how happy I am.”

Frames tried to raise his hands in protest, but when Chumana  bared her teeth, her incisors just a bit too long to be normal, he stopped. The dragonness pushed him down onto the couch, tossing her braided mohawk over one shoulder. She grinned, and ran a hand over her prone employee. Her bosom hung down, one breast falling free of the bathrobe and dangling there. She slowly ran her fingers down his sternum, pushing just enough to press Frames’ back against the leather.

Chumana bit her lip, and ran a silver-nailed finger over his abdomen, poking his belly button and causing Frames’ to sharply inhale. With surprising quickness, her hands leapt to his belt and ripped it from his body, his pants tearing with a loud sound. Frames was going to speak up in protest when Chumana looked up at him with an expression of cold anger, authority, and a trace of hunger. Both her hands reached under his boxers and forcefully pulled them from his groin, revealing his sex.

“Hmm. Sorry handsome, im used to men a bit bigger, you’re going to need to do some work.”

“But I thought this was, sorry ma’am, this was to show how-”

“Shut up Frames,” said Chumana, grabbing the base of his rod in one of her strong hands. She started to tug up and down, not bothering to start softly or slowly. Frames groaned from the pain his tool was undergoing, but he could feel himself growing harder from his boss’ attentions. Sighing impatiently, she pulled off the bathrobe, the puffy clothing gathering around her waist.

She tugged harder, and Frames’ hips started to buck. As she jacked him, she stood up and turned around, so her back was facing him. She rocked her hips back, and still gripping his member, until his turgid manhood was nestled between her buttcheeks.

“You’re one of my favorite employees, Frames. Always ready to jump at whatever suicidal job I send you on. Its endearing. Cute that you humans don’t see the big picture like me.”

She let go of his dick, and began to slowly gyrate her wide hips, rubbing the lips of her entrance against his length. Frames groaned, his hands hovering over her thighs, contemplating whether he should put them on her, but reconsidered, and rested them behind his head.

“I thought a little reward was in store. I want all my confederates to be loyal to me, Frames,” She said as she rubbed her sex against his, her wetness causing his cock head to glisten.

“Maybe you’ll change your opinion of me after this. Yes little human, ive looked in your head, I know what you think of me. Cute, that you think I’d be angered if I knew.”

She grabbed his sex again and held the tip against the entrance to her warmth. With a display of surprising flexibility, she bent backwards, her upside-down face looking smugly at Frames. Her mohawk flopped over and rested against her butt.

“Your little insignificant thoughts aren’t enough to make me mad, little human. The scale of what my kind can think shows how juvenile your tiny attempt at hatred really is. We have millennia to form our emotions, eons to articulate our thoughts. When I’m mad at someone,” she said, prodding his head against the lips of her labia, “there’s fire.”

She surged back, impaling herself on Frame’s penis, causing him to grunt in surprised pleasure. She slowly, agonizingly, moved her hips back and forth, taking in and letting out tiny centimeters.

“But when I’m happy, as you see, there’s rewards. And who knows, you make me happier in the future, Frames, and there might be more, heh, rewards.”

One of her hands gripped the back of the couch, the other reaching back and resting on Frames’ chest as she started to raise and lower herself on his shaft. Her leg moved to her side, spreading herself wider to accommodate more of his length, though she had already taken in almost all he had to offer. Chumana grunted in frustration, quickening her pace and causing he broad behind to slap against Frames’ crotch. Hesitantly, fearfully, he moved to rest his hands, one dented one normal, on her hips. Chumana didn’t bat an eye, and started fucking him harder, forcing the breath from his lungs and causing him to wince as his dick was subjected to her draconic appetite.

Frames bit his tongue and quickly ran a search program on sexual techniques. Finding what he was looking for, he crawled his cyberhand towards her sex, the metal fingers working they’re way over to the dragons vagina.

“Come on human,” she said through her teeth, “come on, just a bit deeper. Ive had dwarves  better hung then you.”

Frames’ cyberhand found her sex, and rubbed its cold metal fingers against her lips. With some effort, he found her clit, and ran his fore finger over it.

He set the tip to vibrate.

Chumana roared with excitement, driving back against him with such force he hit his head against he armrest, his vision clouding for a second.

“Keep that up you little shit,” said the dragon, her voice suddenly much deeper, much throatier. She bucked against him wildly, and as she did so Frames could see changes in her take place. At first he saw scales begin to form around her hips, her neck, and her feet. Her skin seemed to fade in places, like a fog  being dispelled by the sun, revealing dark red scales. Her fingers and toes lengthened, terminating in long, sharp claws.

Still she kept fucking, seizing the crude cyberhand with her talons and pressing it against her button harder. Her hips bucked and Frames could see the ripples of pleasure going through her, each one causing her to become more reptilian. Her shoulder blades grew, extended, leathery wings spreading from her back. Her face elongated, becoming a toothy, scaly snout. From the base of  Chumana’s spine grew a thick, scaly tail that flopped to the side of the couch.

As she transformed, her sex grew wider, yet tighter, as though the increased size made her increased musculature clamp down harder. Frames meekly bucked his hips, rubbing his vibrating bionic hand against her growing, reptilian entrance. When her dracomorphosis was complete she was nearly thirty feet long from snout to tail, with dark red scales and small, sharp horns around her snarling, almost feline face. Her wings, though they were folded, brushed against the star-speckled walls. Broad, taloned legs spread from her torso to support her mass, but kept Frames pinned beneath her.

The dragon grunted deep in its throat, and he could feel her diaphragm working.

“Keep going little man,” rang Chumana’s harsh voice in his head. Drips of lubricant hung from her sex, and her tail thrashed impatiently, knocking the carpet aside.

“I SAID KEEP GOING!” screamed the telepathic voice, causing Frames to wince in terror. Chumana growled and pawed at the floor, before using her hind legs to lower herself further onto Frames. It was all he could do to keep his vibrating hand buzzing, the continued use making his lower arm go numb. Her sex was wide enough he could sneak three of his metal digits inside, stimulating the dragoness while keeping his forefinger pressed against her draconic button.

Chumana growled, deep and rumbling, and the couch creaked in protest to her massive weight as she sank lower, taking all of Frames’ cock and hands inside her. Her sharp teeth gnashed and her wings made small flaps as pleasure raced through her massive body. Emboldened by the dragon’s display, Frames started to thrust upwards, pushing his hand in when his cock withdrew, eliciting pleased roars from the colossal reptile. Frames felt his orgasm building, and wrapped his arms around the thrashing tail above him, pulling up and using the leverage to thrust deeper and harder.

His cock twitched, and the decker’s seed shot into the writhing, roaring dragonness. Panting, exhausted, he fell from her writing tail, watching as she turned to face him, struggling to do so without banging her wings against the walls.

“MORE,” roared her voice in his mind, and the beast roared at the top of its reptilian lungs a moment later, baring her fangs.

Obediently, he crawled beneath her, back to her wet, dripping sex. He made his cyberhand into a fist and, considering the danger he was in, disabled the limiter on its intensity. His tendons and muscles felt strained, the rapid vibrations from the hand hurting his arm and tearing at his organic parts. He plunged his hand into her sex, driving it up to his elbow. The monster above him stiffened, then her forelegs buckled and Chumana’s head and torso fell to the ground, the dragon’s long tongue lolling on the ground. Frames found her erect clitoris and carefully positioned his mouth over it, teasing it between his front teeth. He started to pump his arm in and out, the length coated with slick fluids, his arm aching both from the tightness and the overdrive his hand was suffering.

Chumana roared. Loud enough to crack the glass of the large window in front of the pair. Frames went deaf for a moment as the dragon’s orgasm took hold, her sex clamping down hard on his arm, hard enough to make him lose circulation. Still, he managed to disable his hands vibrations, and when he withdrew he could see the damage his arm and hand had suffered.

The panting dragon struggled back to her feet, turning back around to face her employee.

“See how happy I am, Frames? Maybe now you’ll think a little higher of me.”

Frames nodded, rubbing his sore hand and leaning back against her long, thick leg.

“Ill splurge to fix that piece of junk for you,” she said, her long tongue licking her lips. “You’re going to be making use of it lots more in the future, understand me?”

Frames bit his lip, considering the situation before he replied.

“No need miss, I can handle it myself. I-I guess we can do this more in the future, I’d just need to let my girlfriend-”

Chumana growled and gnashed her teeth, thin trails of smoke emerging from her nostrils.

“Right, right ma’am, whatever you say. I can repair the hand myself, no need to do pay me a nuyen more.”

Frames smiled unconvincingly, and after a moment of inspection Chumana seemed pleased, and slowly shrank back to her human form. Frames mind ran through all the things that could go wrong for him now. But when Chumana embraced him, her breasts pressing against his sweaty, abused form, her red eyes looking hungrily at him, his thoughts went elsewear.

Rich, happy and enjoying a dragons protection. Frames figured it would be a good life from now on, as long as he kept finishing his jobs and finishing Chumana.