Dragon Bait

Title: Dragon Bait

Synopsis: Skif dream was to become a Knight, not be tied to stake in a dress as bait to lure in a Dragon. Especially not a dragon that seems wants Skif for more than a snack.

Rating: Pg-17 For language and suggested sexual content.

Warning: General Warning for Story. Chapters may vary. Abuse, Anal, Anthro, Bond, Gore ( or so I’m told). Adult language, some past non-con, M/M, MPreg, OC, Oral, Rim, Slave, Violence little bit of Vore, (no main characters) Yaoi

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Note: Hey thanks for reading. Before you start fair warning I’m Hyperlexic which means I can’t see my own grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes. Bare with me please.

“” =spoken words
‘’ =thoughts
Review replies are at the end. Enjoy!!!!!!!

Before i give you this long awaited chapter. i would like to thank You all for sticking around with me to read it even though i am so incredible Lazy about getting the chapters up for you.

I would also like to Thank Wollfyn and Tromboneson mars For editing these chapters so That it not as Painful for you all to read.

Finally. YES OH YES >-< Kichou Neko I would love for you to do fan art. I suck at drawing anything but candles and the evolution of stick men. Draw Please. I will email you the basic character discriptions but I really can't wait to see how you would present my little characters. =D


Okay on with the show.


Chapter Nine


When Llyr moved, Skif half expected at least one of the Knights to make a run for it, no matter what they promised. Instead, they were cowering in the back of the small prison chamber, covering their eyes from the sudden brightness of the Posrothaina stone blazing next to Skif’s pile. With one final look at Llyr to see if everything was still okay, Skif grabbed a couple of the water skins and the bag of food. He quickly made his way inside to the temporarily blinded knights and placed the food within reach before making his way back for more stuff.

Skif wasn’t quite ready to be within touching distance of his Sirs yet. The last time
Skif trusted them he had ended up tied up, forcibly stuffed with cum all night long and woke the next morning bound to a stake in a dress. Even though he was relatively sure that they wouldn’t try to do anything to him again, he wasn’t going to take the chance.

On the second trip Skif brought the Knights’ clothes and some of the bedrolls. As he made his way back inside the prison chamber he could feel Llyr’s disapproving eyes on him, watching his every move. In some very weird way, knowing that Llyr was watching him so intently and still had a tight grip on Skif’s leash, made him feel a little better. ‘Llyr won’t let them hurt me—he’s been so kind to me. I have caused him so much trouble. I can’t see why he hasn’t just decided that I’m not worth all this trouble and eaten me.’

The Knights also watched him warily now that their eyes had adjusted. They hadn’t made any move toward the food or water. All four of them just stood there naked; Sir Thomas stood a bit in front of the rest, half blocking Sir Erik from Skif’s view. Skif wasn’t sure if it was to defend Sir Erik or stop him from making a run for it. The look on Sir Thomas’s face was pleasant but calculating—Skif had often seen this expression when the Knight was faced with a situation that required him to disguise his displeasure.
Sir Erik on the other hand made no effort to hide his disapproval as he shot Skif a deadly glare, causing Skif to timidly turn his eyes to the other two Knights. Further back, Sir Marcus supported Sir Fredrick with one arm around his waist and Sir Fredrick’s arm slung over Sir Marcus’s shoulders. Skif could easily see the dark purple bruises on Sir Fredrick. The injured Knight seemed the least focused on Skif’s movements as he seemed to spend more time trying to breathe without pain. Sir Marcus didn’t look pleased with Skif, but his attention was split between watching Sir Fredrick, Skif and the dragon outside.

With no outward attempts to harm him, Skif’s courage grew and he approached Sir Thomas, the group’s de facto leader for the moment. “Here, Sirs. I believe these are your clothes and these are some bedrolls. I have some medicine and bandages; if you can get Sir Fredrick to lie down I might be able to tend his wounds.” Sir Thomas took the items cautiously, quickly handing the bag of clothes off to Sir Erik before reaching in and grabbing a couple of bedrolls and started laying them out.

Skif hurried back to get the rest of the gear. It took two more trips to get the last of it inside. When Sir Thomas had three bedrolls laid out on the ground he helped Sir Marcus sits the poor Sir Fredrick on top of them. Sir Erik was going through the clothing bag looking for his own clothes.

After grabbing one of the water skins and his medical bag Skif made his way over to the injured Knight. Sir Marcus quickly put himself between Skif and Sir Fredrick, causing Skif to step back nervously. Standing before the very angry, naked man, Skif ducked his head and hunched his shoulders, trying to look smaller and not like the threat that Sir Marcus seemed to think he was.

Skif had long ago learned that acting submissive was a great way to save one’s neck when it came to Sir Marcus. He was very hot-tempered and liked dominating anyone weaker than him, namely Skif. Marcus was one of the brute-force type of knights like Sir William and Sir Godfrey had been—the three of them of used to have boulder tossing contests. But Skif always thought of Marcus as being a bit smarter when it came to common sense than the other two. Marcus was also the most loyal of all the Knights, especially when it came to family. Sir Fredrick and he were first cousins and as such were very close.

“Please, Sir. I have medicine. I can help Sir Fredrick,” Skif timidly pled, opening his bag to show the bandages and medicine packets that he had collected. But Sir Marcus did not move.

Just when Skif was thinking it might be a good idea to start retreating, Sir Thomas stepped forward and placed his hand on his fellow Knight’s shoulder. “Let him by, Marcus.”

Marcus shrugged his hand off and moved to take a step forward when Sir Fredrick’s pain-filled voice stopped him. “Marc, let the brat through. He knows what he’s doing.” Marcus stepped aside, allowing Skif to pass but his glare followed him as he knelt down beside Sir Fredrick.

Sir Fredrick had always been impetuous—the first one into battle—so it didn’t surprise Skif at all that he would be the one who got hurt. Skif could easily see him being the first one to charge Llyr the moment the chamber was opened. At times Skif wondered why he had become a knight at all since he was always complaining about the ruggedness of the Knight’s lifestyle and how he missed the pleasures of court. Fredrick was also the group’s ladies’ man, personally boasting for any to hear how many maidenheads he had taken. He was also one of the best swordsmen in the group and would often start all the bar fights with his cousin, Marcus.

With extra care, Skif gently felt Sir Fredrick’s bruised torso, testing for broken ribs. The soft skin beneath his fingers was slightly swollen and cold to the touch. There were quite a few cuts but none of them were very deep. There appeared to be only one broken bone with a few others that were possibly fractured and badly bruised.

Greatly relieved, Skif knew that the Knight’s injuries could have been much worse; his entire ribcage could have been easily crushed, he could have had a punctured lung or even suffered internal bleeding.

The Knight yelped a bit when Skif’s finger ran over a particularly sore spot. “Sorry. Well, you do have a broken rib, but it doesn’t appear to be too bad. Several other ribs are either fractured or bruised. You don’t appear to be bleeding internally which is very good. I have some medicine for the pain and some ointment for your cuts. I will bandage your ribs, but you really need to not move around too much for a few days to give the bones time to heal.”

“I think I will have the time. Your scaly friend there doesn’t seem like he’ll be letting us out any time soon.” Sir Fredrick said as Skif sorted through his bag for what he needed. Skif knew better than to reply.

Around him Skif could hear the other Knights moving around. Sir Erik was now fully dressed and searching through the other gear that Skif had brought in. Sir Thomas had sorted out the clothing and handed garments to Sir Marcus. Sir Thomas set aside a change of clothes for Fredrick.

Skif grabbed one of the packets of painkillers and poured the potent white powder into the water skin. Giving it a good shake to mix it thoroughly, Skif offered it to Sir Fredrick. He eyed it suspiciously.

“It is just a painkiller mixed in water, Sir,” Skif reassured. The Knight was still unconvinced, so Skif took a big swig from the skin. The taste was revolting; clearly this painkiller was meant to be mixed into strong spirits to hide the foul taste.

This time when Skif handed him the water skin he took it. Upon taking a large sip, he promptly spit it out. “Urgk! What is in that? That must be the most disgusting thing I have ever tried.”

“Sorry, Sir; but it will help you. I promise. It’s very strong so you won’t need to take much. Just a few mouthfuls when you need it should do. I’m sorry, Sir, but I have nothing to improve the taste. I did bring some more water and some apples; they should help deal with the aftertaste.”

“Just a few mouthfuls, eh? That seems almost too much even for the relief from the pain.” Sir Fredrick grumbled but he still took another swig and this time managed to keep it down.

Skif got up and walked over to the gear. “There are seven extra water skins and several apples in the light brown bag. You need to ration them. I’m not sure when I can get you more. I will try to get you something for tomorrow… You can use a couple of buckets for waste; I will also try to empty them too… I do not know how long you will be in here.” He watched as Sir Thomas and Sir Marcus nodded in acknowledgement.

Relieved, Skif grabbed one of the buckets and exited the chamber. Llyr’s eyes followed him until he was out, then he returned his attention to the men.. “Umm, Llyr? I need to get some more water… And I need to clean Sir Fredrick’s wounds… Also, could you move the light inside? It would help a lot.” Not taking his eyes off the knights, Llyr nodded. He picked up the large boulder of Posrothaina and put it inside. Skif could hear the Knights’ murmured panic, despite the fact that they had heard him tell Llyr to put the rock inside. None of them bolted however, which Skif was grateful for.

Skif filled a bucket full of water from the pond. He grabbed a torn shirt from the pile on his way back inside. Llyr had placed the stone just inside. Everyone but Fredrick was now fully dressed. Sir Thomas and Sir Erik were still sorting through the supplies Skif had brought. Sir Marcus had gotten Fredrick another water skin that was making his best attempt to empty it.

Kneeling down next to Fredrick, Skif started to tear the shirt into rags, which he dunked in the frigid water. After wringing out some of the water, he began the painstaking task of gently washing the layers of blood, sweat, dried dragon saliva and caked-on dirt. Skif was so focused on getting each of the cuts clean that he failed to notice that Sir Erik was finished going through the stuff and was now standing behind Skif, eating one of the apples.

“So the dragon is keeping you on a short leash? You weren’t able to fool the damn beast into trusting you either, eh? But really, who would trust a little back-stabbing bitch like you, eh Skif?” Sir Erik Stood right in front of the bucket, so that every time Skif reached to wring out a cloth he was forced to face him.

But Skif kept his head down and tried to focus on his work. Sir Erik was just trying to goad him into reacting. He could feel the dragon increase the tension in the leash but did not pull him away from his work. The other able-bodied Knights could clearly sense the rising tension in the air and unconsciously took more defensive stances. Llyr’s clear displeasure didn’t seem to affect Sir Erik, who clearly seemed hell-bent on putting Skif in his much-deserved place—licking his boot.

“Or maybe he’s figured that you really are my little whore. I bet he spared you because he could smell us on you. You still reek of the stench of cum; you’ve eaten enough of it that it must be permanently drenched into your skin by now. You will never be free of it.”

Skif blushed with embarrassment but kept on working, moving on to making up pastes from some prepared mixes he found that would decrease the inflammation and speed the healing of Sir Fredrick. Doing his best to try to block him out, Skif prayed silently that one of others might step in. But they made no move to interfere; he knew that the other Knights felt that as Skif’s master he have every right to treat him any way he wished. ‘Even with Llyr standing at the entrance fuming they will respect Sir Erik’s rights over mine. I only hope that Sir Erik doesn’t do anything stupid or he might get himself or the rest of the Knights killed.’

Sir Erik knelt down ‘til his face was within inches of Skif’s downcast face. “I wonder if he has tried you yet. I can just imagine him taking that massive dick of his and just plowing right in there. Is your gaping hole as tight as a virgin’s again for him? No, knowing you, that hole is so loose that he probably slips right in, it’s so roomy in there.”

Holding back tears, Skif tried to finish wrapping up Fredrick’s torso as quickly as he could to just get away. Behind him he could hear Llyr’s warning growls, causing Sir Thomas to finally attempt to intervene. “Erik, that’s enough. Let the boy finish his work.”

Undeterred, Sir Erik continued his malicious attack. “I bet you’re the loosest lay he has ever had, but I guess for a disgusting beast like him, ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’ So Skif, what does dragon cum taste like? Is it spicy? Does it burn you alive when he cums? I wonder if it leaks out your nose and mouth when he cums in your ass.”

Skif couldn’t take it anymore. He tied Sir Fredrick’s bandages off and started to gather up his supplies as quickly as he could, leaving whatever supplies Sir Fredrick would need later. He quickly explained to Marcus what he needed to do to care for his cousin and then hastily made his retreat.

He wasn’t fast enough because he was suddenly caught from behind and swung around to face the cruel, smirking Sir Erik. He leaned into the shocked Skif ‘til his lips were right next to his ear. “You want to know the most disgusting thing of all, Skif? I bet a little cum-slut like you loves every single minute of it.”

Everything that happened next seemed like a blur. Skif broke and started screaming, “No!” just as he was ripped out of Sir Erik’s grasp and fell backwards. As he was quickly dragged on his back out of the chamber Sir Erik threw his head back, letting out an evil laugh that echo off the walls.

Llyr released the leash to quickly put the boulder back into place. Skif swiftly turned over and got up. He needed to get away, anywhere, just away. He frantically looked about until his eyes landed on the entrance of the cave. He ran for the warm, comforting light of the fading sun as if his life depended on it.

********

‘Bastard!’ The blood in Kieran’s veins boiled with rage. His body quaked with barely controlled fury. ‘How dare he? No one should talk to Skif like that! HE IS MY FUCKING MATE!!!’ He stood beside the knights’ prison, fighting an internal battle to not toss the boulder aside and just eat the fucker.

Only the knowledge that eating the knight would not solve anything for Skif kept Kieran in place. Sure, the boy would probably not fight him off if he tried right now, but Skif would eventually regret not saving him. ‘Skif doesn’t deserve that pain on top of all that he already has. I will have to find some other solution to deal with the Knight, something that would be fitting for all his crimes.’

It took him nearly a quarter candle mark to calm down. As soon as he had control over his temper, Kieran slowly made his way to the cave entrance. The rope tied around his precious little one’s waist led him right outside and into the tree. Skif was hiding amongst the branches.

Kieran wanted so desperately to just tear the thing apart and cuddle and soothe him to fill his ears and mind with words of comfort and love…”Stupid, fucking growth phase, I need my Damn voice’… or at the very least comforting purrs. The mindlink told him that the boy really just needed to be alone.

So Kieran sat down and watched the sun slowly begin to descend. As the last rays of light in the sky bathed the ledge in light, Skif finally emerged from his leafy hiding space. His beautiful eyes were intensely green and puffy from crying. His tiny nose was running, so he unconsciously wiped it on his sleeves which were already damp and salty. As gross as he looked, Skif could not have been anything but beautiful to Kieran.

Skif made his way over to the little stream and began splashing water on his face, trying to wash away the evidence of his crying. When he stood up again, he finally acknowledged Kieran’s presence. “Umm, hi…” his voice was nervous and trembled but it was clear. “Llyr, I want to thank you for letting me care for the Knights. You really didn’t have to… And about what Sir Erik said, I just wanted to apologize…for all that Mi…Sir Erik said.” Skif croaked a little but continued. “He was scared… He would never say stuff like that normally. He just was so terrified… Norm… Normally he is a much better master… kind … and compassionate…”

No matter how he tried, Skif just could not put any conviction into his voice. Kieran did nothing to call his little one on his lies. He simply nodded and opened his arms.

He was a little surprised when the boy purposefully walked to him. Kieran gently pulled him to his chest and purred, just as he had wished to do earlier.

Skif buried his face in smooth scales of Kieran’s belly, taking comfort in Kieran’s warmth. Kieran could feel tears wet his belly as the boy cried silently against him for a few minutes. Eventually he pulled back and wiped his tear-filled eyes against his dirty shirt. ‘I really need to get him a handkerchief and a new shirt.’

“Thank you, Llyr. I’m grateful for all your kindness. I really don’t deserve it.” Kieran could hear the exhaustion in his mate’s voice.

‘Maybe it’s time to put him to bed again. He hasn’t been sleeping much for many days, what with having to care for the Knights as they crossed the country to get here. Then all that happened today and yesterday on top of that; those little naps probably weren’t enough for him. I need to get some better food for him. He is far too thin; he weighs nothing in my arms.’

Kieran shifted the boy into one hand and with the other he gathered up the rope that was still tethered to him. He made his way back inside, stopping for the boy’s personal supply bag and grabbed a new shirt from the pile of debris. The shirt was very large and would likely swim on the boy, but it was cleaner and free of snot.

Skif was nodding off when he finally made it back to the nest chamber. The glowing stones Kieran had placed around the room were barely lighted, but he made no effort to relight them. Darkness would help both of them sleep.

Placing Skif on his feet, the boy wobbled a bit before he sank down to his knees.

Kieran knew the boy was losing the battle with sleep. With a gentle tug at the makeshift leash to get the boy’s attention, Kieran handed him the new shirt. Skif’s tired fingers fumbled a bit over the leash’s knot a little before the rope finally fell to the ground leaving him free once again.

While Kieran was rolling up the rope and placing it against the side of his makeshift nest, Skif changed his shirt. When Kieran turned back he was greeted to the luscious sight of his bare bottom sticking up to mock him as the boy bent over to straighten out his bed rolls. Apparently Skif didn’t like to sleep with pants on, not that Kieran was going to complain. ‘OH hells no. God, it/he is perfect.’

The tight flesh of his cheeks was purple and yellow with old bruises but other than that the flesh was perfect due to his natural carrier resistance to scarring. It was clear that the boy could use a little weight gain here too, but it was not hard for Kieran to imagine that once the boy was fattened up it would easily be one of the best little bubble butts he had ever laid eyes on.

‘This is simply torture.’ Kieran bit back a whine as the boy unconsciously wiggled his ass as he moved. ‘He is so fuckable. If only I could just sink my… Crap.’ Kieran could feel a massive erection coming on. It took everything in his being to wish the damn thing away. ‘After all that bastard Erik said, Skif seeing my interest in him would be horrible. My carrier needs to feel safe around me. I very much doubt that the sight of my colossal boner twice the size of his entire body would not help with instilling that trust. Damn I hate celibacy.’

Young male dragons were often horny and it was perfectly acceptable in their culture for them to relieve one another. Kieran had been a player from the moment he was old enough to have sex, and a little bit before that too. He made his way through most of his age group of dragons in his father’s kingdom and several other neighbouring ones.

When his growth phase came on, Kieran had to take his journey like all other young dragons that leave to find enough food to support their growth without depleting the kingdom’s food supply. He knew that it would mean several months with his only relief being his own scaly hand. But this was just plain cruel; to watch the innocent boy unintentionally advertise himself to Kieran who already had plans to fuck the boy for a complete fortnight the first chance he could.

Kieran swallowed the drool forming in his mouth just in time as Skif turned around to face him. “Llyr? Is it okay if I go to sleep? I’m really tired.”

Nodding, Kieran picked up his tiny joy and gave him a tender hug and then pulled back he blankets in Skif’s crude bed and then laid the boy down, taking care to tuck him in afterwards. As gently as he could, Kieran positioned himself with the boy at his side and his tale tucked around the other side, offering all his warmth.

Right before sleep claimed him completely, Kieran’s ears caught the boy’s whispering voice. “Thanks, Llyr. For not treating me like a whore.” The air was soon after filled with quiet snores.

Kieran could only sigh to himself, ‘First thing tomorrow, I have to find a way to deal with those Knights.’ Giving up on working out a solution for the night, Kieran put his head down and followed Skif into the world of dreams.