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The Dragon's Whore
🕑 Added 2020-12-15 23:00:15 +0000 UTC“I can’t believe you,” Waverly gasped, speaking low enough only to be heard by herself, but directing her whispered words at Dolls.
She’d seen Dolls taking drugs before and she’d tried not to be a snoop, assuming perhaps unwisely that since Dolls was so controlled and reserved in all his interactions, that this habit of his had to be something he was managing too.
But seeing him on the streets of Purgatory, shivering in a way that had more to do with convulsions than with the cold, and steam rising off his sweat-soaked body, it was clear that he wasn’t able to handle his addiction. She would’ve thought he would know better than to try to quit cold turkey, but obviously he was going into withdrawal right on the sidewalk.
Thankfully, the snowstorm was keeping most people off the streets. Waverly was one of the rare few to even be driving. She couldn’t imagine Wynonna’s reaction if Dolls, one of her few allies, one of the few people she trusted, was discovered to be an addict.
Waverly pulled to a stop alongside the sidewalk where Dolls was staggering along, shifting her SUV into Park and getting out to confront him. “Dolls! Dolls, get over here now, you need a doctor!”
Dolls whirled on her, fog coming out of his mouth so thickly it looked like he was vomiting up a curdled length of it. “My meds... lost my meds in the fight… got away before… they’re still after me…”
“Meds? Are you kidding me?” Waverly stomped over to him. “Fine. Keep pretending you’re a diabetic or whatever. Just come in out of the damn cold before you get yourself frozen too!”
Dolls giggled like a broken toy, his pullstring drawn out too far, and when Waverly touched his arm to guide him back to the SUV, she felt his flesh burning right through the sleeve of his jacket.
“Frozen? Ha! Not much chance of that! I’m not a druggie, Waverly. I’m a dragon.”
Waverly blinked so hard she thought she heard her eyelids slap together like shutters on a window. Even after a lifetime of Revenants, demons, and other refugees from Lovecraft’s early drafts, hearing a man—a man she’d previously thought was as stalwart as the day was long—claim to be a dragon was a shock to the system.
“You… don’t have wings,” Waverly said. It took her long enough that she needed to say something, but not so long that she actually came up with something to say.
“The medicine keeps it in check. It makes it so I don’t—down!”
Dolls pushed Waverly to the ground, only a swell of snow on the berm breaking her fall. She pulled her face out of the frost and saw three Revenants coming, knives flashing in the sun. And if she thought that hurt her eyes, suddenly Dolls was spewing fire from his mouth, so hot and so bright that Waverly had to look away.
And when she stopped feeling the heat on her face and looked back, she saw they were running for it, their clothes aflame, pumping limbs being whittled down by the flames.
“Do that,” Dolls finished, reaching down to help Waverly up. Even after what she’d seen, Waverly took his hand without thinking. It felt much cooler to the touch as he pulled her to her feet. Dolls breathing fire… breathing fire… must’ve alleviated some of the pressure he was feeling.
Waverly had analyzed enough lore to get the picture. A man as smart as Dolls could’ve figured out a way to simply do his flamethrower act in private. He must’ve feared losing control. And if not losing control had looked like a Molotov cocktail being thrown, Waverly could only imagine what him truly losing his shit would look like.
She immediately felt abashed for thinking he had a drug problem. Even if it was the most obvious explanation, she’d been helping out the Heir and running with Black Badge long enough to know Occam’s Razor didn’t apply in Purgatory.
By way of apology: “I’ll help you. I’ll find something I can do.”
“The only thing that can help me is my meds and I can only get more of them from Black Badge. And they’re gone. I just lose some of what little I do have left.”
Clearly in no mood to talk, Dolls stalked off, leaving Waverly feeling as miserable as he looked. And knowing that the only way to alleviate her own suffering was to save Dolls from his.
***
One day and a sleepless night later, Waverly had her answer. Or at least an answer. It wasn’t ideal, but seeing the state of Dolls when she went to his cabin—gaunt, sunken-eyed, unshaven, all of him twitchy and scattershot from the effort of fighting down the iceberg inside him whose tip Waverly had seen the other day—she was glad she’d put a rush order on his salvation.
She came in carrying a dusty tome in one hand and all the gold she’d been able to scrounge up of her mother’s old jewelry. She could get more at the pawn shop or jewelry store, but what she had on hand should at least get the ball rolling.
“We have to satisfy your dragon.”
Dolls laughed, the same laugh from yesterday only more jagged. “There’s no satisfying it. No matter how much I burn, it wants more. There’s nothing anyone can do—I’ve tried everything.”
“You’ve tried to contain it. You haven’t negotiated with it.” Waverly dropped the jewelry box in her other hand down in front of Dolls. “Xavier, you have to let it out—just for a minute. Let me talk to it.”
Dolls’ lost voice now cleared and strengthened; he fixed her with a fully present stare, like he’d finally realized she was there. “It’ll kill you.”
“What’ll happen if it gets loose without your permission?”
Dolls’ shoulders heaved. “It’ll kill me.”
“Yeah, well… I can’t live with myself either way. But if we try it my way, at least I have a chance of getting to be right.”
He gave her an admiring look. “You’ve really got a death wish, don’t you?”
“Peer pressure. I grew up with, like, so many Earps.”
“Okay… you might wanna be ready to run.”
And Dolls’ head drifted back, sucking in air, his shakes stopping, body going still, then throbbing with power. His head came back down, the eyes growing red—such a CGI cliché, something out of every bad monster movie, but Waverly was too scared to be snarky. Everything was a cliché until it was killing you.
“You come to bargain with trinkets?” Dolls said in a deep, guttural voice—a voice deeper and bigger and older than Dolls could possibly be—and he gave the jewelry box a kick that sent it flying, sent it right through the wall. Waverly shrieked as the wooden cabin gave way to let the projectile out, leaving a hole streaming light into the darkened room.
Waverly lowered her head respectfully, her eyes averted from the sight of the dragon. “I’ve spent many hours studying every detail of your majesty in hopes that I could properly converse with you and show you the respect you deserve. Sir. My lord. I want to bargain on behalf of Xavier Dolls, your… host. It’s said that if a dragon is satiated, then it—you—will be… peaceable. That’s all I want. To satiate you.”
“Oh?” Dolls chuckled darkly. “It will take more gold than there is in your Fort Knox to give me a worthy hoard. What else do you have to offer? A line of cattle? A vestal virgin?”
Waverly sputtered. “Well, I don’t know about vestal, but I’m half a virgin…”
Dolls reached out to stroke her hair. “Yes… not quite untouched, but pure… very pure…”
Waverly looked up, inadvertently meeting his covetous eyes. “You really want to… want me?”
Dolls demurred. “Not personally. You’re not nearly scaly enough for my taste. But I am a collector. Be mine—part of my hoard—and I’ll return to my slumber for a time.”
Waverly swallowed down a cough. “And what would that… entail?”
“An act of ownership and an act of obeisance.” Dolls ran a hand over his face. He looked much stronger—much more himself, ironically—than he had when Waverly’d first walked in. “I don’t need to do it personally. This human can handle the gruntwork. Then we’ll consider you part of my hoard. Your body considerably… ascertained.”
Waverly nodded. “If it will help Dolls—whatever it takes. I’ll do it.”
“Very well then. I’ll get him started… you try and enjoy yourself. After all, you should count yourself lucky to be part of my hoard.”
He leaned toward her, surrounding her body with his arms, and Waverly let herself by pulled to him. She came closer and closer until her breasts grazed his chest. Then his hand slid down her back to cup her slim, shapely ass. Her own thigh bumped into the front of his pants, feeling something strong and growing at his crotch.
Waverly felt like she had to say something, but his mouth covered hers, stifling her words, which Waverly didn’t mind any.
His tongue explored her mouth and she sucked needfully at it. And he undid the buttons of her top at the same time, thrusting one hand into her blouse to stroke the outside of her bra. Her nipples came alive at his touch, their newfound stiffness grinding both irritatingly and pleasingly against the cups of her bra.
She leaned closer, offering him more of her body. Her thigh was still pressed to his groin—Waverly felt the heat of his erection flowing into her flesh. He was big and hard now, and he was only getting bigger, more stiff.
Waverly leaned back, reluctantly ending the kiss to slip her blouse over her head. Her bra was yellow nylon, her nipples making an obvious indentation in the fabric. She felt his gaze on them and instinctively looked to Dolls’ face to see that his eyes were his own again, his lust too warm and human to have anything to do with the thing inside him.
“Waverly,” he said in his own voice.
“Don’t talk,” Waverly breathed. “I already said all I plan to say.”
“That you want this,” Dolls pressed.
“I want it.”
Dolls reached out to stroke his fingertips over her breasts, teasing her nipples to become even harder. He bent his head to kiss them through her bra, lips sucking at their stiffness. She put her hands on his head, running her fingers through his bristly hair as he kept mouthing her breasts, unable to get enough of their feel even through her bra. Her heart pounded wildly at the kisses he was giving her. She wondered how strongly he could feel the frenetic vibration against her breastbone.
She took his hand then and led him to the bedroom, as if she knew by instinct where it would be. The only light was from the uncurtained window, subdued by the wintry, overcast sky. Waverly looked through it and didn’t see a house or person or car for miles. She turned to Dolls, licking her lips moist.
“I want to be the one to take your clothes off,” Dolls said. “And then I want you to do the same for me.”
Waverly could only nod.
He knelt before her, leaving her in the scant covering of her bra, and undid the waistband of her slacks. They were baggy anyway—Waverly hadn’t thought she would be seducing anyone or being seduced. They dropped once Dolls had untied the drawstring. Waverly stepped out of them, feeling absurdly pornographic as she showed off her bare stockings. They made her feel naked, like she didn’t have on panties, although she showed off as much leg at Shorty’s in the waitress uniform that made the name of the joint so fitting.
Dolls paused when he reached out to touch her obscenely bare legs and Waverly wondered if something of the dragon was still there, unsatisfied with her. But Dolls did touch her, rubbing her legs from her hips to her ankles, toying with the tops of her stockings like he was fascinated with how they stretched away from her skin.
“For some reason, back when I was first getting urges, it seemed like every magazine I saw had a girl in garter belts and black stockings. This is the first time I’ve really seen them on a girl. Waverly, you live up to expectations I didn’t even know I had…”
He pulled her panties down, Waverly not thinking to do anything but help him wiggle them off her feet, but then he still knelt before her, his admiration flowing up her legs to the apex of her thighs.
Impulsively, Dolls leaned forward and kissed the tuft of dark hair framed inside her garter belt. Waverly felt his broad lips pressing through her pubic curls. When they touched her slit, she grabbed his head convulsively.
“Oh!” she said, loud and intrigued. Then his tongue pushed into the tight opening of her sex and she couldn’t say anything at all.
Dolls pulled away, smiling. “I couldn’t resist,” he told her. “All of you looks sweet, but right there? Absolutely delicious.”
He rose to his feet, reaching to the clasp of her bra to unhook it and let her tits bounce free. Her nipples were perfectly hardened, having gotten so stiff so quickly that they’d evaded the sweat that’d dappled the rest of her breasts. Dolls provided that sheen of moisture, kissing and tonguing both of them in quick succession so they matched the rest of her vibrantly gleaming flesh.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, embracing her and holding her to him.
“Wynonna’s beautiful. I’m just…”
“An ass that won’t quit and abs like cobblestone? Not to mention your legs. Not to mention your tits.” Dolls reached down with both hands to grab hold of Waverly’s ass and pull her up to her tiptoes.
She felt his fingers tickling over her bare ass, sliding between her cheeks, but he kissed her instead of touching her anus as she’d been steeling herself for. And his kiss left no room for doubt. Not with her nipples throbbing and her cunt all wet…
One of his fingers probed into her curling pubic hair, entering her. Waverly writhed at the feel of his finger inside her.
“You’d better let me get some of those clothes off of you,” Waverly suggested, “before one of us starts tearing you out of them.”
