A Twisted Fairytale

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He's a fairy. She's a dragon. He can write things into being. She's a hoarder. He's just waiting on princess charming to come save him.

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The best way to take a dragon

She came.

As she let herself go she let her nails rip right up my back. Talons, really. I admit, I would’ve yipped were it not for the fact that I was face first in her nether bits. Her fingers left off from the ravages of my back entwining in my hair and she pulled me further into her, if that were possible. Then her thighs clamped firmly together.

I've heard it said that you can only truly know what you are in the darkness. Smothering in the blackness between her thighs with my face pressed hard in her muff I found I already know what I am. I am a stupid asshole.

Slowly she unfurled herself from around me. She flopped back on the bed with a sigh, traditionally a dismissal, though she wouldn’t see it that way. She would be attractive to most especially basking in the afterglow. Long black hair that laid just right, gorgeous green eyes (almost yellow) that spoke of virtue with a subtle hint of mischief, perky supple breasts, an ass that curved just right, and legs all the way up to her hind end. She was the definition of breathtaking. And a colossal bitch. It was the last thing that made me hate her so. That and the fact that she knew.“You are amazing.”“So you’ve said,” I replied curtly as I tried to look at what she’d done to my back. Don’t get me wrong, I love the intimate acts just as much as anyone. Just not with her. Because she’s a bitch.

She picked up on my tone and sighed almost sadly, almost, “baby, you know I would never lie to you. I love you too much. I’d do anything for you. Why won’t you ever believe me?”“Don’t call me baby,” I huffed at her. Was that blood? tragically, the rest of what she had said was true. She did love me, in her own way, and she had done terrible things to make sure I understood that. I did not realize just how dangerous she was until it was too late. By the time I discovered what she really was we already knew too much, “I assume you know the way out?”

That was my dismissal. She wouldn’t see it that way either.

“I thought we could lay here a moment and talk,” she purred and patted me a place on my bed beside her, “you’ve been so busy lately. We haven’t had any alone time together.”

I stood up, “I have a lot planned right now. Lots of stuff I should be doing and none of them you. You came and that’s what you were here for so I really wish you’d leave.”

I’m not certain if she heard what I said or just what she wanted me to say, it worked that way sometimes, but something in her beautiful green eyes lit. A dangerous something that had heard what I said. A something that would brook no more insolence when all she wanted to do was hold me, “are you busy now?"

Damnit, “no,” I answered honestly. I can’t lie. “But I wish I were,” I added helpfully.

She petted the bed again, “then come lay down with me.”

I resigned myself to my fate and crawled into bed beside her resting my head on a curled arm while the other pulled her to me. She curled around me resting her head on my chest, “this is nice.”

I grunted noncommittally. She lay there in silence a moment presumably taking in the charade that we were a happy couple. I closed my eyes, counted her breaths, and hoped they would just stop and save me from this nightmare. Maybe it would be different this time and she’d just fall asleep. Then I could sneak out from underneath her and make a break for it. I gently stroked her hair, hoping.

“What are you thinking about,” she asked softly.

Now, in case you might’ve missed it earlier: I can’t lie. Cannot. As in it is impossible for me to utter a falsehood. She knows this. My options in this conversation, as you can imagine, are severely impeded by this handicap. Something she has used in the past with devastating results whether she was aware of the fact or not. I wanted her to go to sleep quickly and quietly and she wouldn’t do that if I wasn’t careful.

“I was listening to your breathing.” Smooth, right? I’ve done this dance before.

She lifted her head off my chest to glance at me adoringly, “Do you listen to my breathing often?”

“I listen for it all the time.”

She pulled herself up to face me resting her chin on her hand against my chest, “and do you love me?”

I brushed her hair from her eyes, “I loathe everything about you,” I whispered huskily and leaned forward kissing her forehead. She heard what she wanted.

Her smile could’ve lit the room. That’s not flattery. I’ve seen her do it, “I will love you always,” she said and pressed forward to kiss me.

“I know,” maybe the kiss masked the sadness in my voice.

She lay her head back down on my chest so that all I could see was the back of her head and traced her fingers across my belly, “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“That’s tragic because I want you dead.” It’s at times like these I wonder just how attached I am to my immortal coil.

Her head shot up, “What did you say,” she hissed her eyes glowing like balefire.

That’s magic for you. The moment you think you’ve got it all under control it lets a little thing slip and next thing you know you’ve got the scariest naked bitch you’ve ever met glowering at you with glowing green eyes. I tried to look hurt (and not scared shitless), “I’ve said ‘that was magic’ and ‘I want some head.’ C’mon, turnabouts fair play. My turn,” She heard what she wanted and I tugged my belt loose trying to keep my knees from knocking.

She looked uncertain for a moment but when my shaking hands had trouble with unbuttoning my pants the glow from her eyes changed from blazing hatred to a seductive smolder. She slid between my legs and off the bed, her hands deftly unbuttoning my pants. A tug here and a jerk there and she had my pants around my still unsteady knees. She’s much stronger than that petite form suggests. Somewhere between my belt and my pants the terrible bitch she was had vanished. As blood drained from the places necessary to hold things like fear and loathing she transformed from this horrible beast to the goddess everyone else saw. That I now saw. My member was brought from the dark of my pants and witnessed this dangerous goddess kneeling skyclad between my knees. He stood right to attention, as if the boss had just walked in the room and caught him lollygagging… which was kinda the case.

She glanced up at me from behind my rigid member and smiled, “I’m going to suck you dry.”Too late, I thought as I smiled at her. Why couldn’t more of my thoughts be like that one? Quiet and polite? I was in the middle of parading that thought around his kin as an example of what a good thought should be when she wrapped her hand around my midshaft and pulled down slowly. As her first hand reached my base her second hand picked up where her first had started. Her tongue danced lightly around my spongy purple head as her fists slowly glided back up. The exemplary thought and I stared at her much like a fat guy looked at cake, then the rest of my blood rushed from my brain to my southern bits and thoughts turned ephemeral and then to nothing. There was only her and my cock.

Her lips closed around my tip as her hands leisurely gathered speed. It was tantalizing. It stole my breath. Her soft tongue trailed along my manmeat as she took in inch after inch. I distantly felt her hair brush my inner thighs as her head began to bob up and down. Hazy sublime moments passed and I groaned as I felt myself about to let go. Then both of her hands came to the base of my shaft, she applied pressure, her mouth left my quivering member and she looked at me, “Why can’t you look at me like that all the –“ was as far as she got.

Everything came back. That exquisite thoughtless place I had been shattered. I didn’t see the naked goddess before me anymore. That unbearable bitch was back. Anger and hatred replaced such important things as good sense and fear. I felt my teeth grind together as the illusion breathed its last. Good feelings gone.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I growled grabbing the back of her head and shoving her hatefully back down on my spear. I felt my cock hit the back of her throat but I kept on pushing. I felt her gag and there was a moment of glorified retribution. Her hands stopped groping my cock and grabbed my knees to brace herself. She was pulling back, away from me. I used my other hand and shoved down more. I felt the load she had tried to delay begin again as I thrust her faster and harder up and down my prick. I smiled like a vindicated maniac even as I mourned that brief moment when there was no emotion, just feelings. Shred my back, will you?! She gurgled. Enslave me, will you?! She gagged fighting furiously for air. Ruin my life, WILL YOU?! I let her go. She came off my cock like a shot just as my load violently erupted outward and upward. Her first gasp got her a mouthful of my hot spunk. I didn’t stop there though, no, my spray got her square in the face. Up her nose, between those beautiful green eyes now shut so tight, and all in that perfect raven black hair. I might’ve howled then. In glee. In bliss. She’s a bitch but she sucks good cock.

As she coughed and gagged I stood my cock still spitting cum. She might be strong but she still weighed practically nothing. She swatted at me as I picked her up and shoved her roughly on the bed. Face down, ass up. She was still coughing and frantically wiping at my jizz in her eyes as I mounted up behind her. I slapped her ass. Hard. She gasped. I then shoved my prick halfway to its base up her ass. What came out of her was the bastard child of a gulp of air and a scream. I found it completely exhilarating.

I pulled out letting what was left of my load lubricate what was going to be a very rough ride. She clawed at the sheets trying to get some distance between us but I just drilled her again. Her fingers curled and unfurled seeming to forget they were trying to escape. She must’ve been biting the sheets because what came out was muffled. I still heard the pain. I still heard the pleasure. Her pleasure spurred me on. As I pumped into her tight ass as hard and hateful as I could it was her enjoyment that I was trying to pulverize. She came again, crying out, crying. She wasn’t trying to escape anymore. No, she was pushing back. Impaling herself on my shaft. She loved it!

I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her up and back so that she had to put both hands out to keep herself up and she practically sobbed in satisfaction. I growled and slapped her ass with my free hand as I yanked her back on my dick. She was pushing back too. Her ass cheek glowed red hot in the shape of my hand and still she drove me further into her. Sweat coated both of us. She quivered as she came again. She lifted herself up, still impaled on me, and her hand entwined in my hair. Her lips met mine and for a brief moment I was back in the thoughtless place. My anger began to melt. I kissed her back. Hard. Each thrust a nail in the coffin of my hatred. My hand let go of her hair and I wrapped my arms around her squeezing her breasts. The moan that passed from her lips to mine almost made me come again. She dragged her face to my ear and she whispered, “This is why I love you.”

The bitch spoke. Good feelings gone. But not desire.

I grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her my one hand holding both of her wrists against her back and shoved her down on the bed. My thrusts became frantic. Hateful and needy. I groaned as my cock unloaded inside of her. Thrusts became jerky as I was overtaken by my own blissful satisfaction but I managed to pull out and blast her back with my hot juice.

Silence overtook the room. Sweat stung my eyes and I blinked as I felt her stir. I applied pressure and put my finger in the spray on her back. Quickly I started writing using my semen to form the words.

“What are you doing,” she asked as she felt my finger trace along her back. She felt the first letter and I felt her stiffen, “Hey, what are you doing?”

I pushed her down as she began to struggle. She twisted and that made forming the letters hard but I was in the home stretch now. See… I can’t tell a lie. That’s true. But I can write things into existence. She knows this. That’s why she’s struggling so. There are limits to what I can do. She doesn’t know them. As I finished the last one she quit struggling. She mumbled something drowsily as I let her go. She turned and looked at me slowly drifting off to sleep, “Whut diyu write?”

I smiled at her stifling a yawn, “I wrote sleep.”

She let out a cute snore in response already fast asleep. When her eyes were closed you could almost forget what she could do. I curled up beside her. There wasn’t enough time to specify the who or what of it, but at least I wouldn’t have to hear her voice for a little bit. I’d like to say spunk is the worst ink I’ve ever used before. But I can’t lie. My last thought before I drifted off was: if you’re going to piss a dragon off, best to take her from behind.

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