Dragon Princess in Heat

Forja was mighty in mind and in spirit, even if all the power of her body was being sapped away by her restraints. Every humiliation, every disgusting act that she was made to perform, every service she was forced to give to the elf that held her captive, was another motivator, another anchor in her head.

Even as her mouth was filled with the taste of his member, as she slurped it up, swirled her tongue around it, and swallowed his precum, she thought of little else but chomping her jaws, using the teeth sturdier and sharper than metal befit for a Dragon...

But she bid her time, she  bid her time and she waited. Even as her body heated up, even as her natural instincts flared up, demanding that her needs be sated, her hunger satisfied, she kept a lid on it, put it under control.

With the discipline that was borne solely from her determination and willpower, she became like a steel trap, not letting any of her emotions go, dutifully sucking the elf cock as she had been told ot, servicing King Borick with aplomb and feigned gusto. Such was the plan, such was the stratagem devised by the king's traitorous brother.

Feign weakness, feign submission, and let the King enjoy himself, and lower his guard.

The dirty elven bastard grabbed her horns, the crown that would make lesser beings kneel at just the sight of it, and forced Forja to take the full length of his prick down her throat, as he had several times before, each time choking her, gagging her, nearly causing her to vomit the seed she had already swallowed, every time he pulled her down until her lips kissed the base of his cock, forming a tight ring as she worked him to completion.

Disgusting as it was to say, Forja had become rather effective and efficient at blowjobs, and her own desire to cut short the sessions with the king had led to her practicing, ensuring that she kept track of the King's reactions, and even trained her own reflexes not to reject him.

Indeed... the King hilted himself one last time, and Forja's throat spasmed around his pulsing cock, while it poured its thick, pungent contents down her throat, the elven seed rapidly flowing down to her stomach, joining the four other loads that had already been fed to her.

The King, naked from the waist down, laughed. "I've fed you so much, I'd be shocked if you were still hungry!"

His seed was unfit to feed a rat, let alone a great being such as herself! Forja said nothing, however.

The king's malicious smirk widened as his eyes trailed down. "You must be at your limit," he said, "you're making a mess."

It was true. After weeks being held in the King's dungeons, and being unable to deal with any of her needs, being tended to by the king's servants for hygiene and sustenance... her vagina had not been touched in more than a month. She had not taken care of herself in a month. And even worse, she was being subject to the King's lusts every day, sometimes twice a day, and much as she hated to admit it, her body was reacting to them.

Some part of her, some deep, primal and pathetic part of her that she didn't want to acknowledge, found the thought of laying with a man pleasant and pleasurable, regardless of who that man was. A combination of her inability to see this man as anything but an inferior, lesser being and his disgusting behavior was keeping her from truly wanting him, but she was starting to get to the point where her body may override her sense.

She was rapidly closing in on the point where her body might very well decide that any male would do, instead of waiting for a mighty dragon worthy of her. 

The King wiped the last remnants of saliva, precum and semen on her once lustrous red hair, and cackled. "You look far better like this, this how you were meant to be, on your knees before me!" he spoke, laughing all the while, clearly unable to keep it in. "Soon... it'll be time," he said. "I'll grant you your fondest desire, and bless you with the King's tool upon your beast hole," he said, leaning down, grabbing her chin and turning her to face him. "And when I do, you will acknowledge me as your King, as your master, as your very owner..!" he hissed. "You will become mine, my little lizard..." he said.

She resisted the urge to spit a glob of phlegm and semen in his face, instead swallowing it down, alongside her anger.

The King let her go, and as he left, servants came into the room, set to the task of cleaning her up. Not one of them would talk to her, each and every one would avert their gaze. Their eyes roved over her body, but the women taking care of her saw her not with eyes of lust, but of pity and perhaps even reverence. The King had only allowed males near her once, and apparently had the man who had tried to take her before him executed.

Asshole had even tried to pretend he did it out of the goodness of his heart, rather than simply being a selfish King who thought  of her as a toy he didn't want to share.

The servants cleaned her, giving her a thorough sponge bath, and after they were done, they fed her, the routine that had become her humiliation, followed by the recovery and the soup that always left her feeling better. 

Even her horns were polished, the scales of her tail sanded, and her nails filed. She was but a toy to the King, and he wanted her to look her best, it appeared.

Finally, the servants left, and not more than mere minutes after she was left on her own, once more her peace was disturbed, this time by the familiar sound of practical boots stomping towards her. 

Her eyes opened, and she didn't know how long she had spent in the land of the unconscious, as she found herself staring into the eyes of the yet another elf, younger brother to the King, Prince Borick.

"You've done well. Brother suspects you are at the limit of your capacity," he said, closing his eyes. "He intend to make his move soon."

"What sort of move?" Forja asked, voice only slightly hoarse. Her throat had not fully recovered from the morning's usage.

"He intends to claim your... genitalia," the prince said, clearly looking for a delicate word to use. "And he intends to do so in a special ritual. A ritual that is meant to enhance elven fertility to the maximum."

Forja's eyes narrowed. "He intends to impregnate me?" she asked.

"He does," the prince replied, nodding. "He has also been inquiring regarding the nature of dragon pregnancies... as have I. Unfortunately for you, his plans are quite viable."

Forja growled. "Then it's time. Free me!" she said, simply. "I will slay your brother, and then you will be King! I will leave these lands, and your kindness will not be forgotten," she said.

"You're asking me to help you kill my brother," Boricker said. "I am... He is a cruel, evil man," he said, gritting his teeth and looking aside. "But he is still my brother. I cannot bear the thought of aiding such a vile plan!!" he cried, clenching his fists. "But to condemn him to death is cruelty I am not capable of!"

Of course, the same bleeding heart that had led to him helping her was also preventing him from taking the necessary step... the finality of what he needed to do gave him pause, even as his Kingdom needed him to stop his brother's mad plan, it was familial love that prevented him from doing it, Forja mused, and somehow, she could not find it in herself to hate a man for loving his family, even if said family was twisted and evil.

Not when that man was also her only possibility to make it out of this.

"Then... what?" she asked, a little bit of despair filtering into her voice.

"Brother... Borick intends to use an elven wedding ritual that would bind you to his will, effectively no better than a slave."

"W-What?!"

Fear struck Forja's heart.

"What... what would... what would he do to me?"

"For starters... he intends to wipe your mind, and to turn him into a loyal and obedient pet wife," Boricker stated. "He intends to use your own might against your family, to turn them into allies by convincing them that you are here of your own will, and since you would be a slave with no will of your own, you would be helping him convince them, to the best of your ability," Boricker explained. "In effect..."

"He'd be getting way with everything..! Even my family..!" she growled, a bit of a draconic hiss resounding in her anger. "I cannot... will not allow this!"

Boricker frowned. "There's not many ways to prevent this," he said.

"How does it work?" Forja asked. "Perhaps we can ruin it, render it unusable somehow!"

The elven prince thought for a few moments. "It is an old, not very well known ritual. I've studied it a bit, since he wasn't subtle," Boricker explained, using a hand to move a strand of long golden hair behind his shoulder. "In effect... you will be taken to a ritual room, and you will be tortured with pleasure until your mind breaks, at which point your virginity will be taken and you will be impregnated, a priest of the gods will recite the vow, and from then on, the very Gods themselves will enforce your bondage."

"T-Then!" Forja said, eyes widening. "If, If I'm no virgin-"

"Your virginity is irrelevant," Boricker said, "it is merely for Borick's own sick and twisted pleasure that he added that step. The important part is that you be impregnated in the very same ritual table in which you are tortured," he explained.

Forja hung her neck. "Free me. I will leave. I won't speak a word of this to anyone. You have my word, I will swear an oath, to never come after you, your Kingdom, or even your brother... just, spare me this humiliation, spare me the death of the mind... I beg you..!"

Boricker placed a hand on her shoulder... and then he sobbed. "Would that I could," he said, and then his hand traced her arm, and reached towards the manacle at her wrist. Forja felt the pouring of mana, felt the shackles absorbing it just as readily as they did her own. 

"These chains are beyond me, without the key, I might as well be a babe, unable to do anything to them," he said, closing his eyes. "They are as impervious to me as they are to you... and I do not believe this a coincidence."

"So he expects you to... sympathize?" she asked.

"I suspect so," Boricker admitted. 

"Then... then..." Forja groaned, as she realized, there was... there was one way out. Something hard, something borderline impossible. A request that would normally never cross her mind. 

But she refused to die. She refused to let the Elven King have his way. She refused to become a mindless puppet of the King of Grandleon...

Fierce determination burned behind her eyes as she locked gazes with the Prince, knowing there was only one true way out of her predicament. She could not be broken out... but she could still be saved. It would take a great sacrifice, but it was something she was willing to bear with, if it would give her just a little bit more of a chance.

A plan formed. 

"Then you must impregnate me before your brother can," Forja said resolutely. "If he has to get me pregnant for the ritual to work, then it can't work if I'm already pregnant," she spoke, simply, almost as if she was trying to convince herself that it truly was nothing too big, nothing important... 

The will and determination of a dragon was not to be underestimated, and she was not about to allow herself to fail, to surrender. She was a Mighty Dragon, strongest and most majestic of all the dwellers of this beautiful world, upon whom all others gazed in envy and awe.

This would not break her. They would not defeat her. She would defeat them... even if she had to play by their rules.

"Forja... are you certain?" Boricker asked.

Forja glared fiercely at him. "I am," she said. "I will never give in."

Her lower body was heating up even more than before. It was already complying with her declaration, and the neglect had her primed and ready to go at any time.

"I will make it through this... I will survive," she said, "and you're gonna help me."

He looked at her. "I... see. If it's alright with you, if I'm alright with you," he said, closing his eyes.

The prince and the princess stood in silence, for a few moments, as if both were daring the other to break first, to lose their nerve.

But neither would. They would exchange no further words. The Prince's hands reached for the belt holding the silken robes he wore together and undid the knot, before shrugging off the heavy, expensive garment, and Forja looked upon him with anticipation and as much as it pained her to admit it, a little bit of excitement.