Red Dragon

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To Catch a Predator

The rest of the week was peppered with visits. From his tormentor, to his other tormentor, to the most recent tormentor- oh, and his tormentor. His time with Beatrice was even hindered by them, but at least he was with Beatrice. At least he was playing cards and could (mostly) ignore them.

Nicole, as always, was the greatest hurdle. By Sunday, he simply threw himself off the railing the moment he woke up and didn’t even care if he lived. The things she started doing to him... He knew she was kinky. He knew she loved to test things with him, push the boundaries... but, as of late, she really started to kick it into overdrive. One bullet and a knife was enough for back when he was with Eve, but now? She couldn’t even get wet unless he was balancing a claymore on left smallest eyelash while battery acid worked its way down the long metal shaft. Thank goodness he was basically superhuman... or was it now more a curse.

Considering he needed to listen to Cassidy bitch about his dive, he leaned more the latter. She found him down there, in his special hole –which he found out the sign was put up by Beatrice. His head was buried in the concrete, while his rump was raised and covered in a myriad of cooled, colored rock. Candle wax wasn’t good enough, no. Nicole brought decorative beads for him to melt into several glass funnels and she spent the rest of the night painting it on. Most of it, the layer that covered his front, broke off upon impact, making the sun shine in that hole as if he was surrounded by shattered glass.

But she wasn’t upset about that, nor that he was outside bare for all to see. She wasn’t the jealous kind of girl. A jealous girl he could take care of. Cassidy? She was upset that he tried to kill himself. Key word there: TRIED. If he wanted to do it, it would have been as easy as ripping out his heart. There was nothing useful up in the old chrome dome anyways, so he was basically cheap labor for the fine individuals that needed to repave in a few years. He was accelerating it for them!

No. But no. That whole night she and BRIDGET AND Lola AND Tanya all tried to lecture him that life was great, that he should approach it all with a SMILE. He had so much to live for, like... and... as well as... The point was Francis didn’t need any of their examples and simply didn’t hear because his ears were not full of rock, meaning he didn’t wing what they said and responded in kind all night. Not at all... though he wondered why Bridget mentioned swift peas from Trine High should wrap printed stems for bartering. Swift peas were delicious; who would want to barter for them instead of earning or growing them?

His fun was over, though. His fortnight gone, spent on nonsense and chilling. As God intended. He even blessed him with a night of silence, not being able to hear his lovely bed mate prattle away about something as sleep took him away. The drachen didn’t even snort out the two rolls of paper stuck in his nose, their tips still holding that damned city’s horrid stench, but, as he stirred, he realized they were gone. And only they were gone.

Cassidy kissed him again, clearing his mind more as he realized the soft red sky outside the window was the dusk, and remembered that he was due back in school that day. He groaned, slamming his head into the pillow, and the harpy squeaked. Yes, squeaked. As in he heard her... and the bed’s crunch as it tilted back. Cassidy clung to him, wrapping her thighs as hard as they could around his legs as the entirety folded up, the power vacuum made with the back leg’s destruction needing filled. But it wouldn’t be this day; Francis growled, and raised. It was the smallest movement, the briefest of ascents, ended with a room-shuddering slam, forcing that end back down... its legs, too, decimated. As was the frame. The metal fell away from the mattress and box spring, settling as the harpy fell onto his chest, panting and quivering.

“Morning,” Francis said, and realized his voice was still a bit muffled. He slapped his left ear, and he heard a row of rocks clatter out the other side, clinking on the broken metal below. “What’d you get us for breakfast?”

“Oh. Nothing yet,” she said... and tittered as she smiled again, beaming at him. Her hands finally released the bed (while her hips remained locked on his) and slid up to his face, cradling it. “I just wanted to see your glowing mug before I did.”

“I bet. Did you like the date?”

“I always do... Did you?”

“Aside everyone worrying if I’m going to do my best Kurt Cobain impression, it was okay. The wings were great.”

“Wings? Those were ribs. Boneless rips.”

“Oh... Man, those witches are crazy, aren’t they?”

She groaned. “Why did you have to bring them up... We were having a fine evening. Why did they feel the need to bust in here and haul us away?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know... Why is everyone against a night of movies and chilling!” His phone buzzed in his pocket, making him roll his eyes. “And that starts now.”

“Which one?”

“Want to bet?”

“I would guess... Desiree.”

“My money is on either her or that crazy Destiny person.”

“Whoever they are, they better not try anything.” She rose her hands, “boxing” at the air, ending in two, wide rakes of her claws. “I’m a fighter, and she’s already being too spooky.”

“Settle down, killer. It’s obvious she’s just your run-of-the-mill cowardly stalkers.” He sighed, and fished his phone out at last from between his hip and hers –which he found it very hard not to rock. The way hers shuddered, how her face was growing redder with each twitch; men had a common occurrence in the morning, and she was relishing it. Which he should have savored a bit longer, seeing the text. “Oh, hell.”


“It’s Bridget. She’s coming over for coffee.”

Cassidy growled, slapping the bed by his head.

“Can’t you tell her to leave you alone? We’re trying to enjoy our morning.”

“Oh? And how did you want to enjoy it?”

She tittered, and nodded down.

“It’s been two dates... I know how guys get. Especially you.”

“And what would you do about it?”

She tittered, her face burning red... and her right hand started down, trailing across his shoulder, his pecs, his abs- only to stop as his phone buzzed again.

“She’ll be here in a minute,” Francis grumbled, and sighed as he stood. With Cassidy still on him. He grabbed her butt, still concealed behind her thin, TIGHT, washed out blue jeans. They accentuated her figure very well, as did her red “tank top”, which was little more than a sports bra, showing off the soft, white down that covered her middle. It quivered still as he walked out of the room and towards the entry, her hips rocking against him as he still twitched. He felt a wet splotch on his dark sweatpants, and not the one at the tip, digging up into her cheeks. Sadly, it was removed and left to chill as he deposited her at one of the chairs in the kitchen, returning to the door as Bridget knocked on it.

Opening to see both the witch and Penny standing there. Bridget was the one to knock, having gotten there first, but it couldn’t have been long after when the wizard approached, given the malice that was still apparent on Bridget’s fair face. It was gone in a blink, replaced by a tender smile, faced toward Francis again.

“Hello, darling,” she said, and held up two mugs. “I hoped you received my messages.”

“It was a close call. Cass just started to suck my face in as you sent them.”

“What? Miss Crane is still here? I thought she would have been home by now. Her father must be worried.”

“Nah,” Cassidy blurted out of the kitchen. “He knows when I’m out with Francis things get crazy. Plus he knows if anything is seriously wrong I call. If anything, he trusts Francis a bit too much.”

“That girl has common sense,” Penny stated. “She is far too good for you.”

“That she is,” Francis admitted, chuckling, though both women before him didn’t seem as amused as the one in the kitchen, laughing with him. “When do I get to meet daddy, anyways?”

“This weekend if you want,” The harpy called out to him. “Think you can handle me two weeks in a row?”

“I mean, I can set up an hour to meet him then go out with someone else, couldn’t I? Or would that be in bad taste to say, ‘Hey, I’m only here for a short time before I’m off to fuck another woman, but I am the guy that your daughter is trying to bang. Nice to meet you!’?”

“He would want to laugh at it, but would look insulted and demand your balls on a sling for a necklace.”

“Would it at least be a nice necklace? One with gemstones or obsidian with a pendant? Or would my massive balls be the pendant? Would it be for him or for you? Because I’m not ready to get married yet-”

“Hey! Moron! We’re standing here,” Plank said.

“I know, but I’m trying to forget.”

“I’m assuming that is aimed at Penny,” Bridget said, pouting as she handed him one of the coffee cups. “If not, I don’t mean to be such a burden, Francis. I assumed you enjoy my company-”

“Don’t take it so personal. I love all of your guys’s company. Even Plank there –which what are you today, a giant red tomato? That’s a ton of red. Like... a lot. Of red. Enough that even me saying that’s a lot of red isn’t enough to-”

“We get it,” Penny blurted, and shot Bridget a dirty look. “Well, I was simply here to remind you that you have to go back to class today. I would offer to drive you, too, but it looks like you have a new car buddy.”

“I mean, I do with that attitude.”

“Oh dear. Are you relapsing, Penny?” Bridget said, pulling out her phone. “Should I call Doctor Wexler and tell him?”

“What? No! How did you even know- you know what, I don’t care... and no. I’m not relapsing. I’m actually following his order. He said, if I want people to accept me, I need to be who I actually am and not what I expect people to expect of me.”

“So... you’re back to being a bitch?” Francis said.

“Only if you force me to be!”

“True enough.” He took a drink of the coffee... and the flower flavor actually worked well with that blend. It had a strong, nutty base to it, complemented with chocolate almond milk and mini marshmallows. In fact, before he even lowered the mug, half of it was gone, and his cheeks were very much warmed. He gestured the mug to Bridget, giving her a goofy smile. “Now this is more like it. Great brew this time.”

She giggled, taking a drink from her own.

“Thank you... Can I come in now?”

He moved to the side, and she went in. Penny started as well, but Francis moved before the door again, blocking her as he took another drink.

“I should have told her I’m going to need a refill before letting her in,” he grumbled, belching as he lowered it again... and glanced down at the wizard. “You’re still here?”

“Why? Do you want me to leave? Do you prefer Bridget’s company more?”

“A little, but that’s because she didn’t spend most of our time knowing each other trying to rip my head off.”

“No. She hides behind that false smile and even flimsier pleasantries. Or were you too brainless to notice.”

“Oh, I noticed, but it’s exactly that reason why I like her company an ever-growing smidgen more than yours. At least she tries to be nice... for no personal gain of her own.”

“Is that what you really think-”

“The whole reason you jumped on Eve’s request is because you are trying to suck up and move up in the world. You didn’t do it for my sake nor because you cared but because you were hoping for that nice, big, juicy pay raise and status... and EVEN THEN you couldn’t pretend to care. You couldn’t make it seem as though you enjoy my company or make it even seem like it wasn’t a complete fucking burden.”

“Because it is-”

“One that you did to yourself... Now, you expect me to weep for you when another decides to do it? If only to rub it in your face?” He huffed- and jumped as Bridget tapped his shoulder.

“Oh dear. I should have realized. I am so sorry,” she said, taking the mug out of his hand as she ducked under his arm. She pecked his cheek, patting it before turning to the door, cocking her head at the wizard. “If you will excuse me, Penny, I need to go refresh his coffee.”

Plank scoffed but stepped aside, letting her go- and crying out as Francis stepped out onto the walkway. He watched after that ass, hugged by sheer black leggings, doing nothing to hide that voluptuous rear or the pink thong under. Her perfume wafted back, drawing him after, mixing so well with the flowers in the cup, making his pants crease on his burgeoning manhood-

Slapped away by Penny.

“Watch where you’re pointing that t-”

She gasped. Gagged. Wheezed.

Francis growled, raising the wizard by her neck. Flames frothed at his maw, his fins fully spread, aching against the flesh that kept them prisoner. Fire sparked to life in the runes on her staff, slapped-then-kicked away, clattering onto the broken concrete below as he slammed her against the building, all the while she clawed and wrenched at his hand.

“F...Fra- Franc...” She tried to splutter out. He could feel her heart under his palm, racing, pulsing so much blood into that empty space behind those wide, tear-filled eyes.

“That made three,” he stated, and slung her down the walkway. The air rushed by, ending with a solid clang at its end. The bar bent far out, barely keeping her up on that floor, while she laid over it. Her rear presented to him. She started to rise from it, but was slammed back down, her legs spread apart as he stood behind, his manhood throbbing so much. “Three times you hit me... And now, you shall pay.”

He gripped her ass, the largest part on her, and growled as he pushed up against. His pants couldn’t handle it anymore and slipped off his manhood, letting it ooze onto the red denim, grinding against. He leaned over over her, growling in her ear, and chortled as she winced and recoiled from his breath- before growling and slamming her back against the rail, stilling her.

Her eyes went wide, hearing his claws rip apart her jeans. Then her granny panties. Francis grabbed both sides and slung them off, exposing her pale legs and the dark lips in between. He pulled back, letting his member dip below, and ran it along her untrimmed garden, hissing in the still air. He licked her ear, nipped at her neck-

But stopped as a pair of arms wrapped around him.

“Stop!” Bridget said, sniffling. “Don’t do it.”

He gasped, and back away, leaving the wizard to fall... and a streak of pre to dribble in between them. It broke as he stuffed his member back in his pants, spinning to the witch. Her cheeks were redder than her hair, but had a touch of green, all marred by silent tears simply washing down them. Cassidy stood at the door, her face mortified, but he wasn’t paying her any mind as Bridget forced that cup of coffee into his hands and took his, guiding him back down the walkway.

Passed his apartment.

Instead, they went to hers. A quaint place, much like his save for far more shaggy decorations. Bridget lead him to one of the three couches in the living room and had him sit, plopping beside. She shushed into his ear, rubbed his chest, soothing the savage beast that he was... and yet, every drink only made the True Beast desire more.

“There,” she said, kissing his cheek again before rubbing it. “Feel better now?”

“Not really,” he said, finishing off his mug. He handed it to her and patted his belly... glowering at the mast that still loomed before him. “I almost had justice.”

“‘Justice’? Is that what you call raping that woman?” She sighed... and her hand fell on his lap. Onto that member. “Francis... that’s not justice.”

“It would have! That bitch has been making my life a living Hell-”

“So you would give her the one thing she’s been dying for?” Bridget shook her head, and slid down the couch before him. He noticed that her blue shirt from earlier was gone, with a slick- with her chest bared for him to see. She set the coffee cup down then her other hand rested on his lap... teasing that turgid rod. “That’s not justice, Francis... Let me show you what is.”

Her hands slid up to the waistband of those slacks- stopped as he grabbed her hands.

“Don’t,” he stated. Commanded. For both her and himself. “I cannot allow you to do this.”

“And why is that?”

“Because... because you are holding off for Mister Right. I can’t have you ruin yourself just for some petty bullshit.”

“Aww... That’s sweet, darling... but this isn’t taking my virginity, is it? I’m just going to squeeze your cock between my tits. It’s not going anywhere near my pussy... Unless you want it to... do you, Francis? Do you, Darling?”

Every word she spoke, every time she called out to him, made his poor pants slide down further until, with one, last pop, the head sprung free, catching in between those alabaster mountains. His hips trembled as her breath washed over it, cooing as her hands grazed by as they rose from the waistband. The green was gone from her cheeks, but now it was the small gleam in her eyes that made him feel a bit sick... a bit... guilty. She looked up at him, pushing her chest against it, letting him feel her warmth, her heart in between those peaks.

“Well? What do you say, darling? Do you want me?” She said, and wrapped her arms around her chest, sealing his member against.

“More than anyone else right now,” he said, and moaned as she started to move. His head lulled back, eyes lulling shut, listening to her own moans, her pants, and the soft squelches of his member against her breasts. He spread his legs wider, handed her a pillow to rest her knees on, played with her curls and stroked her face as she continued to please that burden.

“Did you say you wanted a date this weekend?” She said, panting as she picked up the pace. “I know this is a little forward of me, but I’ve really enjoyed your company last week.”

“I... I d... Oh G...”

“Is it really that good? It’s just my chest... Then again, I’m not one to really talk. I’m getting so wet... But I would love a date with you. Would you like to go with me? Just the two of us this time, like we have been for ‘dinner’? I suppose this would be our, what, fifth date?”

“T-technically... Gonna... GONNA...”

“Do it, Darling. Give me it a- oh- oh m-”

She moaned as her lips met the head, catching the fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth shot. Her face was covered already before then, as was her hair, shoulders, and, of course, her chest. She gulped it down though, suckling on the tip, her eyes heavily lidded and full of love. Francis head was still back, his hands clawing at his eyes, holding back the tears of joy, of bliss... It had been so long since he came from passion, true passion... Maybe that was why his member finally FINALLY went limp.

Bridget let it fall, with not a single drip left, and climbed onto his lap, tittering as she caressed his shoulders and neck.

“Was it good, Darling?” She said, and waited for him to raise his head before catching it, kissing him. He might have tasted himself, but he didn’t care. Not at that moment. He melted against her lips, and didn’t want it to stop. Not ever. But she did, tamping his cheek. “Cassidy is waiting to have breakfast with us. You go on ahead while I clean up, then we can finally go to school.”

Francis nodded, and waited for her to climb off, feeling more guilty at the wet spot that once again left his waist. He pulled his pants up as he stood and trudged out and back to his apartment, where Cassidy was in the kitchen, cooking. She gave him a worried look as he lumbered in, but smiled seeing him relaxed, and even gave him a kiss before he plopped down at the table.

“So glad to see you back to yourself,” she said.

“Yeah. Yeah... Where’s Penny? She okay?”

“A bit shaken, but she’ll be fine.”

“Good. I didn’t want to know where in the world she would be after that.” Nor do I really care. His head ached from that thought, as if a lance had been shoved through it, and he winced, holding it. “What the hell?”

“Something wrong?”

“No. I’m fine... Just... not myself when hungry.” Or thirsty.

Another stab skewered his head, but it was gone, as if mended when he got food in his belly. And when Bridget returned. As much as he wanted it, he declined any more coffee. He was more than awake for class, and he didn’t need an OD when he had so much to catch up on... Though he felt like he had a personal tutor if he only asked. Especially with how the witch pawed at his leg.

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