Chapter Text
Skir’athyl was having a good Monday morning things all things considered. The scantrons had printed correctly, the coffee had been brewed to perfection, and just this morning the tall blue dragon born was able to get at the annoying spot on his back that had been right under his scales.
“So as you can see,” he held up a ruler to a triangular illustration coming out of a circle he had drawn on the chalkboard earlier, “the cone from the beholder is anti-magic, so magic users should be careful to attack from the sides and back of the creatu-” the bell rang and thanks to his rigorous training, not a single student moved to pack up. “Ah, it seems I ran a tad long. Alright everyone, feel free to head to lunch.” The sound of happy students picked up as they packed away their knick-knacks, soon leaving Skir’athyl with nothing but a now clean chalkboard and a softly ringing phone.
Skirs heartbeat quickened as he saw the contact name that glowed on his screen, pressing the green accept button and bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello there, this is Skir’athyl speaking.”
“Really, you’re still going to do that?” A husky voice graced his ear canal, an amused chuckle following it. “Fine, I’ll play your game. Skir’athyl, this is Principal Amalika. I know that it’s time for lunch break, but I have a few things I was hoping to discuss with you in private. If you would be so kind, meet me in my office at your earliest convenience.”
“Of course, I’ll be there in about,” he checked the time, “five minutes.”
“Excellent. I’ll see you then.” The phone then went dead with a click, a smile gracing the Dragonborn’s lips while a tingle of delight shot up his spine in anticipation. With a quick pop of a mint into his mouth and locking up of the quickly cleaned classroom, he made his way down the well-trodden path to the principal's office, able to ignore the gloomy arua of the path via dark halls and faint wall lights in the shape of blue glowing mushrooms. A delightful reminder of just who it was that he was dealing with, and her enjoyment of leaning into the stereotypes of her kind. Not that he would raise any complaints, she wore them well.
When he came to the door he gave a quick three-ring tap of it with his knuckles, taking his phone out for a moment and making sure to put it on silent. After a moment he then opened the door and stepped inside, the blue-scaled dragonborn making sure to close it quietly behind him.
A pair of red eyes stared at him with satisfaction from across the room, dark skin framed perfectly by the snow-white hair that he knew would smell of raspberries as he got closer. “Skir’athyl.” She mused, tasting his name as one would a vintage wine. “I am glad to see you could make it. I do so enjoy our talks, one such as myself rarely gets stimulating discussion..”
“Lady Amalika, Mistress of knowledge.” He gave a slight bow of his head, hand over his chest before he slid into the chair in front of the desk. He wasn’t actually sure if the drow woman in front of him was ACTUALLY a noble, she had hinted and teased about it often enough, but she preened at the titles so he just opted to go the safer route.
They sat in silence for a moment, merely examining one another in anticipation of what was to come. Skir’athyl on his part wore a simple white button-up shirt with a black jacket covering it, the simple blue and silver of his lineage in the upper right corner as was right. A deeper blue and silver tie hung from around his neck usually drawing attention down to his muscular chest, which even now wore the shirt well. This was not even counting the tight-fitted blue jeans that clung to his hips and curves, ending in a pair of custom-designed shoes and socks to make sure that they would actually fit him.
Meanwhile, Skir’athyl eagerly drank in the sight of the drow principal, a smirk on her dark skin which in a certain light had the tint of purple. The older drow wore, just like himself, a white button-up with a black jacket over on top, a pair of wire-rim glasses sitting atop her face and framing her blood-red eyes with their oval shape. Each button was made of a mix of iron and silver, blended together at just the right purities to be a potent problem to fae and werewolves alike. Each one also had her symbol engraved in the center, a capital T with a smaller line just underneath. Letting his eyes slip down revealed simple black leggings that covered her ample legs and hinted at what was underneath her pressed, wrinkle-free skirt. And of course, to top it all off was the plain, yes tasteful pumps she wore. Truly, a model professional.
At least one could say that if they didn’t look at the hungry look in her eyes. “Now Skir’athyl, I mentioned that I needed to speak with you in private. I’ve noticed that though your overall performance has not changed enough to need speaking of, you seem very stressed.”
“Stressed? I cannot say I feel the same way.” It was fun honestly, the different excuses she would think of to get his pants down and him at her mercy. Last week she had even gone so far as to say she needed to check his physical health and check it against his medical history, dressing up in a nurse's outfit. That had been a fun one. But if she wanted to go with stress, Skir’athyl could indulge her. He mimed a wince and rubbed at his back, licking the inside of his cheek. “Well, maybe somewhat. There have been a couple of trouble students who have been getting on my nerves. Bryseis for start, the girl seems to enjoy riling up her classmates whenever an argument starts.”
“Mmmm, I see. We can discuss her punishment later. Right now, it is clear that you are in need of something to take your mind off your students.” She made a show of looking at her phone and pursing her lips before looking at him with her beautiful blood-red eyes, a hint of mischief flitting through them before settling into the well-practiced look of superiority she often wore. “I have something that could help, but I’m afraid it would make you miss the rest of lunch, and you can speak of it to no one.”
“Oh? And what would this activity be?”
“An old drow practice, something that before was used to help their matriarchs calm down after a long day of raiding and stealing away slaves. Sadly for you, I lack the servants and the time to make this a truly authentic experience,” the drow woman stood up and now revealed her height at 5’11, nearly enough to look him in the eyes at his full height, and more than enough to tower over him seated as he was, “but I can make do with what I do have. That is, time,” she reached into her desk and pulled out a small glass elixir of sorts, “and scented oils.”
His breath hitched in his throat as she walked over to him and grabbed his chair, turning him around so that he now faced the door. “Now Skir’athyl~” Her voice came out in a soft, husky tone as the lights dimmed even further so that the only thing he could reliably make out was the woman in front of him, “for this to work you need to promise to do everything I say, understand? I can only help you relieve your stress if you swear to obey every.” She stood to her full height once more and pressed a finger against his throat, “single,” she dragged it upwards now on his chin, “command.” Her finger finished its journey by reaching his snout's lips, resting between the pair with an expectant look. “Suck.”
The Dragonborn face scrounged up in thought for a moment, the gears in his mind turning as he debated just how much of a bastard he felt like being today. But, he wanted this just as much as she wanted to do it to him, and it was still only lunch period, so in the end, he wrapped his lips around the offered digit and began his ministrations, dark blue eyes locked onto her own as his tongue swirled around her finger.
“Good boy~” She breathed out, tongue flitting to brush against her lips. She let him worship her for a moment before pulling her finger out of his mouth, shiny with saliva. “I think you deserve a reward. Strip your shirt for me, I find it tiresome and in my way.” He did as the lady commanded, the low light of the room meaning the blue lights that did show did so in an interesting, purple mixing with blue as she watched him peel off his jacket, folding it up and reaching behind him to place it on her desk. Dexterous fingers worked slowly on his buttons, relishing the way she watched with rapt attention as each and every button was undone, and his blue-scaled chest was exposed. He worked hard to have this physique and was quite happy someone else admired it.
“Mmm, perfect.” The older woman giggled and leaned in, tracing the slick finger he had just suckled on down his light blue scaley chest, letting out a deep, almost thought sigh as she flicked his dark blue nipple. “I should get these pierced for you, something silver with a purple gem perhaps. You would look good with them.”
“You know as well as I do that the rules wouldn’t allow for that Ma’am,” Skir’athyl said good-naturedly.
“Perhaps. Perhaps I will simply have to change the rules then, to make an exception for good boys who let their Mistress tease them until they burst.” Her words were followed by quiet unbuttoning and a zipping sound as his pants fell around his ankles, soon followed by her dropping to her knees while a hand pressed against his cloth-covered erection. “Mmm, if only it was the weekend, I could spend hours edging this thing~” She reached for her jacket and shirt now, peeling them off in such a way that demanded he pay attention to the black bra-clad chest of his Mistress. He was glad to do so.
The drow woman chuckled and pressed her palm against the tip of his underwear-covered cock, fingers wrapping around it as best she could while slowly moving it up and down, her face dangerously close to the tip. “Mmmmm, you smell divine, even through this covering of yours. I wonder how it would taste if I,” Amalika smirked as she hooked a finger inside the waistband of his underwear and slowly pulled it down, gasping as his cock sprang free, “did that. Lillith below you’re perfect~” She pulled it down even further to let his balls hang, one hand fully wrapping around his dragonic length and starting to pump up and down in a slow, steady rhythm while the other dug slightly into the flesh of his balls. “Warm, musky,” she pressed her tongue against the base of it and slowly dragged it up, shuddering once she flicked it off the tip, “and electrifying~”
Skir’athyl paused at her words, his focused attempts to not moan (moaning would be he lost) now split between trying to not make the joke that he so wanted to make (that would also be losing, and Tiamat damn him if he lost in two ways to the same sentence.) He managed fairly well in all honesty. Lesser men would have cum and splattered the older woman's face right then and there, covering her in cum as white as her hair. He managed only to let out a soft pant and stifle the whine that would have surely followed, shutting his eyes right. But even with his eyes closed he could imagine the smug look on her face as she pumped up and down, up and down.
“Mmmm, you must have held off over the weekend again. Good boy, just like you know I like it. In that case,” he heard the rustling of clothes and dared open his eyes, being revealed with the sight of her bra now missing and her vast chest on display. “I know you like these, but I can think of a better way to keep your eyes on me.” Amalika reached for the oil bottle and opened it up with a pop, holding it to the side and letting it slowly drizzle down onto her ample chest, letting it build up on her chest before setting it back down on the floor. “Go on, massage it in for me good boy.”
Once again he did as he was told, hands reaching forward without his input and gently grasping the mounds of flesh betwixt his clawed hands. It was fascinating, and if the dragon-born teacher had the time he would have easily spent half an hour or so just massaging her breasts, flicking her thumb against her nipples and even suckling against them, using just enough force with his sharp teeth to leave a sizable hickey afterward.
“Skir’athyl,” blue eyes flicked up to red ones, a hint of exasperation making the fondness he found there ever more potent, “while I enjoy you being a good boy, we do need to hurry up just a tad.”
“Of course Mistress, my apologies.” He gave her breasts one more squeeze and then pulled his arms back by his side, a bashful look on his face. Amalika simply rolled her eyes before wrapping her breasts around his cock and squeezing them together, drawing forth a pleased sigh from the dragon born.
“Mmm, much better, right where you belong.” She pressed her lips against the tip of his cock in a kiss and started moving up and down, humming out a tune to pace herself. And thus it began, the question of who’s stamina would give out first. Would he give in first and splatter her face and fat purple breasts white? Or would she admit defeat and swallow the head of his cock, flicking her tongue against every inch she could grab? Either way, someone was going to have to give.
But for right now the blue dragon born was quite happy with the current state of affairs, the softness of her chest wrapped around his fat, throbbing cock. With them being made slippery with the oils she used, and the heat she already produced, it was like he was thrusting into a pair of fuckable pillows. He had used them as pillows in the past as well, so the comparison wasn’t too far off.
He leaned his head back as she worked her way up and down, her fat drow tits eeking out pleasure with every stroke up and down. “ Mmm, your ancestors really knew what they were doing when they did this. I can just feel the stress leaving me.”
“Mmm, I’m glad. Journals say that they found it quite,” Amalika smirked as she used her arms to squish them together and draw forth another halted groan from the blue dragon born, “meditative. I can understand the appeal, especially when you try so hard to not moan like the silly dragon slut you are.” She picked up the pace and let out a soft coo as his clawed fingers dug into the material of the chair he rested in, looking up at him with a smile. “You try sooooooo hard not to make a sound, but you’re so much cuter when I get to break past that exterior of yours, get to the gooey center, and see you humping away between my chest.” She giggled as she looked at the clock up on the wall. “Not much time left Skir’athyl.”
“I, I don’t-”
“Shhhh, you don’t need to speak. Just,” she pressed a kiss against his drooling cock, lips coming away covered in pre, “listen. Listen to the sound of my voice.” She kissed him again, lips brushing against the underside of his cock. “Listen to the sound of my breath as I take yours away again,” she used her hands to squeeze her breasts together right below the head of his cock, “And again,” she kissed his cock once more and relished in the soft sigh she managed to extract, enjoying how he tensed up, “and again.”
“Fuck, Amal, I’m getting pretty close. You want me to take off your glasses for you?”
“No Skir’athyl.” The smile on her face could have matched her ancestors. “I want you to cum on me. Coat in me in your dragon seed so that we both know who you belong to.” She pulled her chest away and finally let her tongue hang out, dragging it up the man's shaft and flicking up against the tip. “I want you to cum for me~”
Skir’athyl could hold back no longer, his refusal to cum over the weekend and the resulting sensitivity leaving him at her mercy. With a howl he started to cum, hands reaching for the drow woman's head and finding nothing as she grabbed him by the wrist and forced them down onto his thighs. He sat there, helpless and squirming as he came over and over again, thick white ropes of cum splashing against her face and breasts. Meanwhile, pleasure raged through him, not helped by the fact that he knew she would do this over, and over, and over again if she had the chance.
When he was done he pulled in deep ragged breaths, blinking his way back into reality and getting to see the result of his work. She was coated in cum, with only one eye being open while the other was sealed shut with a thick glob having formed right above and dripping down. The rest of her face was in no better condition, lips slick and glossy with the substance, the only thing cleaning them up being her tongue lazily venturing out to scoop up whatever it could grab. The tips of her chest formed a mix of spider web strings and more thick globs, all slowly becoming one as it dripped off of her and onto the carpeted floor beneath.
“F-fuck, those oils really did a number on me.” His blue scales turned a bright red and he held out a hand, only being stopped when she held up her own. A quick flash of blue light and it was as if nothing had happened, her skin clean and her clothes returned to her in pristine condition around her and smoothing down any wrinkles that might have formed. His clothes were returned, though a quick shift of his legs showed that there was a conspicuous lack of underwear.
“I’ll have to remember that scent then.” She pressed a kiss against his temple, taking a moment to adjust his shirt collar while she whispered gently into his ear. “Have you given more thought to my offer?” Her voice was soft yet he knew that answering incorrectly here would put him in as much danger as if he walked into a spiders web with nothing on save for maybe ribbon.
Skir’athyl gulped down a glob of saliva, doing his best to not tense up. “I have, some,” he let the words out slowly, “but I enjoy being a teacher too much right now to stay at home full time.” A carefully thought-out snort left him, daring to let his hand drift up her leg. “Besides, I’m fairly sure that as large as your imagination is, it would get boring if all you had was me.”
She pulled back some and cocked a look that the dragon born couldn’t quite identify, red eyes unblinking for a long moment, the air growing more stifling the longer she looked down at him. “Mmmm, if that’s your concern, I’m sure we could find something to help with that.” The drow woman looked up at the clock and clicked her tongue in frustration, the tension in the air vanishing with the breaking of some unspoken spell. Skir’athyl found he could breath again. “Sadly it's time for us both to be getting back to work. I take it we can have another one of our chats later on?”
“It would be my honor to.” He placed a soft gentle kiss on her lips and hoisted her up by her hips, setting her back down on the ground as he stood up. “Maybe this Saturday? I should have nothing going on Sunday so we can spend as much time as we want together. I can make something even, use Friday to get everything ready.”
“Delightful.” A canine poked out as she smiled at him, dragging her chair back behind her desk and then promptly lounging in it like she owned the world. “I’ll see you Saturday, dinner at your place.” The dismissal was obvious and he took the chance to escape while he could, calmly walking out even while he felt blood-red eyes staring into his back, feeling like he had just escaped a spider's web.
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