Dragon: BDSM is a Matter of Trust.

>>348067
>Dragon, the love and trust needed between a couple to make consensual bdsm be enjoyable, modern day. Preferably with the dragon on the submissive end.

>These fancy evenings spent greetings important-looking Mamono’s and men are always the weirdest.
>Not “bad”, there’s usually good food and any occasion to see your wife in her cocktail dress is never unpleasant.
>But you always feel like an astronaut exploring an alien planet.
>The autochthons have their strange rites and perplexing language that you try your best to memorize and mimic, but never quite master.
>Thanks the Gods Leva’s here to translate and guide.
>Her long silver hair, her jet black horns and scales are your lighthouse in this disorienting, colourful, polished place.
>That said, tonight is perhaps a little more awkward than usual.
>And not just for you.
>Almost everyone is even quieter than usual.
>The guests usually stay in pair, talking to one another in hushed whispers, only stealing glances at the exhibit around them.
>Even the waiters don’t look too at ease surrounded by the unusual artworks.
>It’s a little surreal, honestly, everyone seems united by the same kind of embarrassment and shameful secret that we all share for standing in this exhibition.
>And seeing Laevateinn’s jittering is so amusing.
<“You seem to be enjoying yourself, Anon.” she asks as low as she can, turning her eyes away from a large photo-montage.
>You can’t help but grin at her reactions.
“It’s not so bad, if you realize that we’re all equally as uncomfortable here.”
>As if to prove you wrong, a voice shatters the almost silence:
>“Hubby! Look! I wanna try this one next week! Oh my Maou, just imagine!” gushes a succubus jumping with glee near a delicately carved life-sized statue of a man covered from head-to toe in bondage gear, while a regal-looking Thunderbird uses him like a throne.
>Your wife quickly spins on her heels, turning away from the scene, you find this a good idea and follow her.
>Only to hear another cry.
>“Oh! Laevateinn! It’s so good to see you!”
>A pretty kitsune wearing a Chinese dress breaks away from a group of journalists, to give your Dragon wife a big hug.
>The Black dragon tenses up, public demonstration of affections are not her cup of tea, still, she manages to keep her reactions to a controlled twitch of her tail, before returning the hug with one arm, the other holding her flute of champagne away.
<“Amane, how could I have refused your invitation?”
>“I was afraid you might’ve been busy, how do you like the exhibit?”
<“Oh… it’s… very interesting.”
>“Thank you! Oh! Where are my manners? You must be Anon, Laevateinn has told me so much about you.”
>You get a hug as well.
>Wait, what’s that feel?
>A loud mix of throat-clearing and a growl rises from your wife’s chest, causing the fox-woman to jump back quickly.
“Thank you very much for inviting us, I’m not much for art, but it’s a very daring subject you’ve chosen, miss Amane.”
>“It’s an idea that’s been in my head for a long time, did you know that bondage has always existed in one form or another since ancient times?”
“I’ve gathered as much by your pieces.”
>”I see, you’re a very observant man, Anon.”
<“I do not wish to cut our reunion short, Amane, but I feel we’re prevented these kind member of the press to do their jobs.”
>“Oh! Just a moment, Laevateinn, please, there is something I would like to talk with you, my husband can keep the journalists busy for a moment. Please, follow me.”
>A very discreet sigh escapes your wife’s ruby-red lips, before she follows the artists away from the crowd of photographers.
>Once far enough, the fox with seven tails beckons the two of you to come closer.
>”The thing is, I would like to ask a favour of you, Laevateinn.”
<“What kind?”
>“This collection is perhaps my greatest work. What is currently exposed here is only a third of what I’ve amassed on the subject of BDSM, my dream of completing a complete exposition featuring every possible specie of Mamono and Bondage technique is almost complete. Only a dozen race or poses eludes me still… One of which you can help.”
“Wait a minute, are you asking her to feature in your works?”
>“A smart man you are, Anon. H-hold on, don’t glare at me like that! I understand that exposing something so private can be embarrassing! All I ask is that you consider it, of course, you’ll be rewarded for your donation! I just want something featuring a dragon, a photograph would do, even without seeing her face.”
<”I’d like to take my time to consider this, before giving you an answer, old friend.”
>“That’s all I ask, merely that you consider it.”
“I’m not letting anyone tie my wife. End of discussion.”
>“I expected as much! Here! This is a very complete guidebook written by my husband, it should help you get started.”
“That’s not what I… Thanks, I guess.”
>“Alright, here is my contact info, let’s stay in touch Laevateinn, I’ll go answer some questions now, enjoy the exhibit!”
>And with that, the kitsune was gone.
<“Let’s go home, Anon, I suddenly feel tired.”

>Days pass.
>The book stays on the coffee table for days.
>Sometimes, curiosity is too strong, and you find yourself reading a few pages.
>You notice that it often moves, even when you haven’t opened it for days.
>Laevateinn and you do nottalk much about it…
>Until one day…

<”There is something I do not understand. About the book.”
>You stop looking at the documentary about wildlife reserves, looking to meet Leva’s eyes as she rests her head on your chest, lounging on the sofa.
<”What’s the appeal?”
“That’s a good question. I think it’s about trust.”
<“Trust?”
“I think… If you’re the one tied up, or the one tying up the knots, you need to trust the other.”
<”How so?”
“Well, obviously, if I were tying you up, you’d need to trust me, that I would not abuse of the power you relinquished to me, remember, you would be bound, helpless and at my mercy, I could do whatever I want to you and you would have no choice but to take it.”
<“Okay, that part’s obvious, but what about the other way around, if you were tying me up, why would you have to trust me? You just said I was powerless.”
“Almost, powerless. If you asked for the ropes to be tighter, I’d do it, but I would need to be sure that you’re not pushing yourself too far, bondage is actually dangerous, you need to be careful, I would need to trust your judgement and you to know your limits.”
>A pause.
>She lets a few pages slip out of her grasp.
>An illustration of a knot bearing an eerie resemblance to a noose appears briefly, before disappearing under a photo of a bas-relief.
>Her purple eyes stare at yours, lost in thoughts, thoughts of you.
<”I trust you.” she whispers.
“I’d trust you with my life.” you answer.

>It takes a few more days for the both of you to gather your courage.
>You feel like when you had just met her.
>When you had realized that you were falling in love with her.
>The same mix of fright and excitement.
>And seeing her blushing like back then sends your heart aflutter.
>You think you’re ready.
>Then, you agree to postpone the first attempt.
>Twice.
>Eventually:

>It’s pretty much like your first night.
>The beat of your heart is deafening.
>You’re wearing only your bathrobe and clean underwear.
>The shower has been silent for at least half an hour.
>Yet, she isn’t coming out.
>You wonder if she’s alright, but do not dare to knock on the door.
>You toy with the book a moment, wondering what are your options.
>As you set it back on the nightstand, you decide to stand up and check on her.
>But, the door opens, revealing your wife, her own nightgown tied oddly tight around her, as if shying away from the warm air of the bedroom or your gaze.
>She walks timidly to the bed, sitting next to you very stiffly.
>A moment pass, neither of you have a thing to say.
>Slowly, you caress her hands, tangle your fingers with hers, leaning against her, letting her return the contact, bringing your lips to hers.
>Gently, you kiss her softly, letting your hands travel across her skin and her scales, bringing her to lie on the bed, hugging her and being hugged back.
“I think we both need to relax, first.”
<“I’m sorry. I feel so stupid, it’s been ten years since our first time, and look at us, are we back to the awkward teenage phase?”
>She is smiling now.
>So are you.
>It’s a good start.
“We don’t have to do anything insane for a first try. We can just take our time.”
<”That sounds lovely.”
>Her claws-tipped fingers trace you jawline as your hands cradle her cheeks and follow her pointy ears.
>You need more of her kisses.
>She certainly shares that hunger.
>Your mutual caresses continue.
>It becomes a silly game, trying to undress that single layer while keeping one another as close as possible.
>A pleasant surprise greets your eyes as you roll above her while she wriggles free of her robe.
>You remember buying her those lacy bra and panties for her birthday.
>It’s amethyst, like her eyes.
>You gently weigh one of her generous breast as you kiss her on the neck.
>She exhales a scaling breath next to your ear.
>Slowly, you bring her arms above her head, once more interlocking fingers, pinning her under you.
>A beat.
>You can feel her beating heart under your chest.
>Delicately, you slip one hand free, holding both of her wrists down under your palm while your thumb plays with her blood-coloured lips.
>Her mouth welcomes your digit past her teeth, sucking on it while her tongue slathers in with drool.
“I got you.”
<”I belong to you.” she manages to answer, not letting go of the finger between her sharp teeth.
“I am going to need both of my hands.”
>You admit with a chuckle while slipping from under a pillow a spool of crimson fabric.
>She eyes it with confusion, but reluctantly lets you free while you straddle her midsection.
>As you unwind a first length away from the spool, she recognizes what exactly it is.
<”Satin?”
>You silently nod while wrapping her arms together.
<”You know this cannot hold me, right?” she asks, with a grin.
“The idea isn’t to stop you, it’s to make you restrain ‘’yourself’’.”
>She looks at you, confused, while you top your first piece of work with a nice bow.
“You could tear it or burn it in a heartbeat, but I trust that you will not struggle (much) and that you’ll trust me.”
>A beat.
>Your hand run along her side, thumbs brushing a little harder on her breasts.
>With practiced ease, her bra comes loose, but you do not peel it away from her, you want to keep the best parts for later.
<“I trust you~” she sighs with pleasure.
>So, you continue, caressing and massaging southbound.
>Pale skin and dark scales yields easily under your touch, muscles relaxing and tiny giggles rising at times as your fingers dance on her ticklish spots.
>A kiss on her inner thigh to wrest a hopeful gasp from her, only to move away to rub soothing yet electric circles on the sole of her feet.
>You bring both slender legs together and resume gift-wrapping her for you.
>A small laughter brings your attention back to her eyes.
>That’s an oddly confident smile for someone who can only wriggle now.
<“I don’t really mind, but I fear you might not find much ‘’pleasure’’ with my legs held shut like this…”
>To illustrate her point, Laevateinn shimmies her hips a little, lifting them just high enough to give you a peek of the silk-covered treasure.
>Sadly for her, you know what you’re doing.
>With the greatest care, you trace a slow, languid line from her belly button towards the valley between her legs, taking great care to brush that one unique scale above her womb, wringing an irresistible moan from her, before resuming your teasing course downwards, circling that very sensitive rosebud hidden under her panties and really enjoying her reactions as you guess from touch alone the shape of her entrance, from top to bottom.
“I know a dirty girl who’s about to ruin the nice gift her husband got her.”
<”Ahh… I can see how hard you are down there…”
>Well, she’s 100% right.
>But you’re not finished with your work of art.
“Let’s hide that wet spot, dear.”
>From under her, you pull a length of satin, taking sadistic pleasure to carefully rub it against her.
“Thank you for rising your hips, dear, it makes my efforts much easier.”
<“Hurry~!”
>Oh, no, not yet.
>You can see the blood pumping hurriedly in the veins of the leather-like of her large, beautiful wings.
>They are as wide open as they can, to help her cool down.
>It’s gonna take a moment to wrap them up.
>And right now, they are ‘’very’’ sensible.
>As more fabric loops and criss-cross upon the vast expense of her bat-like appendages, she mewls, squeals and begs.
>Your massages of the powerful muscles only make the experience more intense.
>The finishing touch is a nicely curving bow right below her heaving breasts.
>Gods, she’s perfect.
>Her blush is almost as red as the fabric holding her in place.
>A part of you wants to cover her eyes or puts a cute little bow between her teeth.
>But you want to see her eyes, how they sparkle like diamonds, you want to kiss her more, this open, panting mouth.
>You don’t remember when was the last time you’ve been this worked-up by her.
>You’re very grateful she’s keeping as quiet as she can, a single “Please.” from her, and you’d break.
>Her expression alone is bringing you dangerously close.
>But, you have a job to do.
>You grab the camera and get ready to take the first photo.
>She sees the item in your hands and her blush blazes with renewed fury.
>Trying to stay steady is almost impossible, your heart beats too strongly.
>She can’t hold the pose, shielding her face from the objective with her bound arms, a single purple eye looks at you through the red ribbon.
>You drop the camera.
>You don’t care if the photo’s good, you need her now.
>Her kiss is scalding, her moans send your desire for her spiralling out of control.
>You roughly flip her on her belly and lift her hips to remove that pesky lace off of ‘’’your’’’ wife.
>With a hurry you didn’t know was yours, you line your virility with her wet, puffy lips and shove your manhood as deep as she can take you.
>A cry of pure lustful happiness dies muffled in the pillows.
>It’s an actual miracle that you didn’t burst right there.
>Her tail wraps possessively around your waist, pulling you further above her.
>Your grunt as you pull out of her belongs more to a beast than to a man.
>A whimper is heart-wrenchingly pathetic.
<“Noo! Anon!”
>The last of your restraints just went out of the window.
>Your hips smack her plump behind with a meaty whack.
>Again and again.
>The bed creaks frighteningly often, her butt cheeks are red from the force behind your trusts, her moans are an unintelligible drooled mess in the cushions.
>Then, there is a twitch in her wings.
>Her tail tightens around you.
>Her toes curl and all of her muscles go taut.
>Her back arches and her inner walls wring you with frightening strength.
>She screams your name and both of you come undone.
>You wish you could’ve rode that orgasm longer.
>But you just can’t.
>It feels like you’re pouring your ‘’everything’’ in her contracting velvety folds.
>Drops of your releases fall on the bed in silence.
>All of her body twitch a couple more times, punctuated with high-pitched mewls of happiness.
>Finally, the last of her strength is spent and you have not the energy to keep the two of you from crumbling down.
>You fall.
>Sleep catch the two of you in its warm embrace.

>Eventually, you wake up, tangled with her.
>Getting out of bed is a challenge you were not ready to undertake.
>But the warm shower with her more than makes up for it.
>You eat a late brunch and spend the rest of the day in each other’s arms, lazing around the house.

<“So, how’s the picture?”
“I don’t wanna send it to Amane.”
<“What does that mean?”
“Nobody except you and I get to see perfection in this world. End of story.”
<“It can’t be ‘’that’’ good… right?”
“Trust me, it ‘’’is’’’ that good.”

--The End--