Sluggish and sleepy, with a full belly from last night’s hunt, I dragged my ugly ass out of my den and up onto the ridge, stretching out in the pale morning sun to absorb the heat. My dark blue scales soaked up the warmth, but the unnatural patches of white that marred my long, sinuous body tended to reflect the sun, leading to uneven basking and cold muscles that wanted to cramp up. Being a piebald dragon was so many levels of hell.

With a sigh, I rested my chin on my foreclaws and closed my eyes, dozing as the sun rose higher, bathing me in glorious heat. If you’re not a dragon, you can’t even begin to imagine how good that feels. It even lifted my mood.

Then I heard the scream.

I jerked my head up and looked toward the forest. Out there, beyond the trees, was my village—the human settlement I had claimed as my territory—and something was very wrong. Human voices drifted to me on the wind, shouts of anger and fear, and I lunged to my feet, warm muscles eager. Scrambling down from the rocky ridge, I slithered into the forest, heading for the commotion. I kept to the underbrush, because the last thing I wanted to stumble into was a mob of agitated humans.

A sound like thunder rumbled beneath the trees and I hunkered down in a thicket, watching as a young, male centaur galloped past, his golden mane and tail streaming. In his muscular arms, he carried a young woman—the source of the screaming.

I waited a moment, but no humans followed him. Not surprising. Humans aren’t very good at following a scent and they’re terribly slow. Still, I liked them, and one of mine had been taken. That could not be ignored.

Their trail through the forest was like a ribbon of bright colors, the scent of equine and human entwining and weaving between the trees. It led me to the far edge of the woods, to a sunny clearing where a massive tree had once fallen, leaving an open space and a huge, rotting log. Crouched in the shadow of the forest, I watched the young stallion struggle with his prize, his inexperience painfully obvious.

He set the girl down and tried to push her beneath his horse half, to where his impressive cock was already hanging, but she just ran away. He chased her down and dragged her back, bending her over the rotten log and trying to mount her, but she scrambled over the log and ran off again. It was amusing to watch, but I could see his frustration growing. I had to act.

As the centaur brought her back to the clearing once again, I reached out with my mind, touching her thoughts. It was like groping along a wall of fear and panic, but after a moment, I found a crack. Her name was Maggie and she was the farrier’s daughter. She loved horses and was an experienced rider.

Don’t be afraid, I whispered into her mind, hoping she would mistake it for her own thought. Horses can smell fear and sense anger. Be calm and he will calm down, too. Just relax. Be still. I sent a soothing wash of emotion into her and she quieted instantly. Fortunately, I had made a reasonable argument, or no amount of mental persuasion would have calmed her. But, she knew horses, and the centaur was part horse, so what I said made sense, even if it wasn’t accurate.

Surprised, the centaur let go of her, snorting as he took a step back, his tail swishing from side to side. I seized this moment of opportunity to slide deeper into her mind and weave my will into her unconscious.

That’s right. See, he’s just nervous. Show him you’re not going to hurt him. Stroke his hide; be gentle.

Like she would approach a skittish foal, the girl raised one hand, reaching slowly to brush her fingertips against the centaur’s equine shoulder. I could see the confused look on his face, his ears flicking back in bemusement as she slid her hand over his glossy gold coat.

Very good, I told her, feeding a trace of compulsion into her mind. Soft and gentle, stroke his side, down to his flank. See how calm he is now? He wants something. Look beneath him. I drew her attention to his impressive black cock, hanging beneath his belly, carefully weighing her response before I continued.

She was embarrassed by the sight of it, but not shocked. Having grown up around horses, she knew how they mated. And, lucky for me, she was also curious, the way good girls often are.

Oh, the poor thing, I whispered, pushing a wave of sympathy into her. He must be unable to find a mate. No wonder he’s frustrated. He needs help, then he’ll surely let you go. Just reach beneath him, see if he wants to be touched.

Maggie resisted the suggestion for a moment, but a soft push and the potential of being let go convinced her to slide her hands beneath his belly and gently grasp his cock. The centaur snorted and stamped one back hoof, his tail swishing with impatience. I wanted to warn him to calm down, but I couldn’t split my attention like that. I could only be in one mind at a time, and if I withdrew from the girl, I feared I would lose her to fright and panic once again. I just hoped the young stallion wouldn’t do something stupid.

He’s getting anxious again, better show him that you’re not a threat. Make yourself small; get on your knees. She hesitated. Kneeling beside an agitated horse was just asking to be kicked or stomped on. I had to think quick to reassure her.

Remember, he’s more then just a horse, I told her. Look up at him, he’s watching you, waiting. Show him you want to help him. I saw her look up at the centaur, then she folded beneath the weight of my will, sinking to her knees, the centaur’s cock hanging in front of her face.

Touch him, stroke him, I encouraged. It’s all right. You want to help him. Still, she seemed uncertain and I probed her thoughts, searching for the source of her reluctance. As usual with humans, it stemmed from a childhood trauma.

As a girl, she liked to take treats to the horses waiting to have their hooves trimmed and shoes put on by her father, bits of apples and carrots, or lumps of sugar swiped from her mother’s afternoon tea. This one time, when she entered the barn, a stallion was making a ruckus, excited by one of the mares who was in season. Maggie had never seen a randy stallion before and was shocked by the size of his cock.

Her father’s apprentice, a mean boy a few years older than Maggie, came into the barn and caught her staring. He teased her mercilessly, calling her names and threatening to tell everyone that she was a pervert. She begged and cried, and he finally agreed not to tell, if she agreed to be extra nice to him. From then on, whenever her mother made cookies or fruit tarts, Maggie never ate what she was given, but saved it to give to the boy, a bribe to keep him quiet. He left the village a few years later and she was finally able to relax, mostly, but in the back of her mind, she was still afraid of being found out.

Don’t worry, I whispered, no one will see, no one will know. The village is far away and you are alone. Now help him, ease his suffering. He wouldn’t have taken you if he wasn’t desperate.

That seemed to convince her. Soft hands began to glide over the centaur’s hard flesh, stroking the straining shaft as thick, gleaming drops of precum beaded up on the flat, blunt head. The centaur snorted, nickering softly, and said something neither Maggie nor I could understand. The words may have been unknown, but the meaning was clear, and I softly urged the girl to give him what he wanted.

He wants you to taste him, I whispered, feeling her balk against this forbidden act, but also yearn with curiosity. He spoke. He’s not an animal. You’re doing nothing wrong. Go ahead. No one will know. It was like a magic phrase, easing all her fears. Humans are generally easy to control, once you find the right button to push.

Maggie leaned forward, her lips hovering just above the smooth, ebony cock, feeling the warmth from his flesh, then her mouth opened and her tongue darted out, lapping at the crystal drops glistening on the rim of the head. Hidden in the trees, I tried to keep my panting quiet, my cock sliding free of my body as I watched her worship that thick rod and imagined her lips on my own shaft.

The centaur said something, his deep voice encouraging, and she began to lick him like he was a melting ice cream cone. He was far too big to fit in her mouth, but between her hands and lips and tongue, she worked his length industriously, until I could see his back legs trembling, his hooves shifting restlessly.

Keep going, harder, he’s almost there, I told her. Once the stallion was done, he’d run off and return to his herd, leaving me to finish with the girl. My hard cock ached with anticipation.

Suddenly, the centaur stepped back, pulling his cock out of her grasp. She looked up at him in surprise, her alarm rising as he loomed over her. I had no idea what he was doing, but I pushed waves of calming energy into her mind. The stallion leaned down, gathering the girl gently into his arms. I crouched, my cock retracting as my muscles tensed, preparing to run them down if he took off with her again. Lucky for him, he just set her down on the broad, moss-covered surface of the fallen log.

He knelt before her, awkwardly folding his long front legs and leaving his rump raised invitingly in the air. I considered trying to sneak up behind him and help myself, but his large ears kept swiveling about, listening for danger as he pushed up the flowing skirts of her dress, exposing her soft, creamy legs. She shoved her hands into her lap, trying to stop him from raising her dress further.

He means no harm, I assured her. His kind do not wear clothes. He’s just curious. Let him see. Let him touch. He’s just being friendly. I could feel her apprehension, but she slowly gathered her dress in her hands and drew it up, exposing her thighs and the dark juncture between her legs.

The centaur said something, his hands sliding between her knees and coaxing her legs apart. She made a wordless sound of protest, but I was running out of patience. My body ached, blood thrumming through my veins with pent-up need. I was ready for things to move along.

Stop fighting him, I said, weaving as forceful of a compulsion as I dared. Let him do what he wants or he may hurt you. Once he’s satisfied, he will leave and you can go home. You’re only dragging this out. Hurry, or night will fall and you will be lost in the woods in the dark.

Maggie gasped, her body tensing, and I felt her mind struggle against my commands. I held my breath, sending a light caress of reassurance, and after a moment, she relaxed, her eyes glazing as she surrendered to my will.

Very good, I whispered, more than a little relieved. That’s what happened when I got impatient. I was just lucky she hadn’t broken free of my influence and started screaming. Now, be a good girl and lean back on your elbows. The moss is deep and soft. Good girl.

As she reclined, the stallion spread her legs wide, exposing the slick, pink folds of her pussy. I got a brief glimpse before my view was blocked by his head. He shoved his face between her thighs and I saw her back arch, her bodice pulled tight across her heaving breasts as she gasped for breath. With my mind woven so deeply into hers, I could feel her shock as the stallion began to feast on her pussy, his tongue lapping at her clit and making her whole body shudder with pleasure. My cock slid free again, throbbing with need as it dripped precum on the forest floor.

“Oh! Oh, my!” Maggie gasped, her thighs closing on his head as she quaked, her mind flooded by a fog of ecstasy. Dazed and weak from her orgasm, she flopped back on the log, her legs spread and pussy glistening as the centaur stood back up, his straining cock swaying beneath him.

Carefully, he stepped over the log, his belly almost touching the girl as he stood over her. He twisted his human torso around, almost lying on his own back as he reached beneath himself, grasping his cock and guiding it between her legs. She moaned as he rubbed the blunt head against her nether lips, already slick from her first orgasm. Slowly, he began to push inside, his thick shaft filling her small, human passage, her muscles gripping and squeezing as he inched deeper. I knew how that felt, to slide into a hot human body, and my cock twitched, throbbing from neglect. I needed to fuck something soon.

In the clearing, the centaur straightened up, his back hooves shuffling in the dirt as he widened his stance, getting the leverage needed. He began to thrust, driving his ebony rod as deep as it would go, Maggie rocking beneath him as he pounded her pussy with his horsecock. The sensation was so intense I had to withdraw to the fringes of her mind or risk being overwhelmed. She writhed, her hands clawing at the mossy log as she cried out, her feet kicking helplessly as he plunged into her again and again, each stroke sending a thundering wave of pleasure rolling through her. She came over and over, her lithe body bucking as she screamed in ecstasy. Finally, her eyes rolled back and she passed out, the link between us going dark and leaving me shaking and out of breath, my cock hard enough to cut glass.

The centaur stallion, focused on his own pleasure, seemed oblivious to the girl, lying limp beneath him, and continued plowing her unresponsive body without pause. That was my chance. Slipping from the edge of the forest, I crossed the clearing in a few stiff bounds, drawing up short behind him and rising up on my hind legs. I grabbed the centaur with my short, powerful front legs, my sharp talons tickling his chest and abdomen, but I was careful not to break the skin. He froze with his cock buried deep in the girl, his every muscle tensing. I pressed my snout against the back of his neck and breathed hot, smoky breath on him so he would have no doubt that he was dealing with a dragon.

Now that I no longer had to worry about Maggie, I reached into the centaur’s mind, not caring if he felt me. I wasn’t trying to control him, just communicate.

Don’t move, I said, flexing my talons and letting him know that I could disembowel him in one swipe if I wanted to. This human belongs to me. That whole village does.

“I’m sorry, I did not know,” he said, his deep voice tight. I didn’t actually understand his words, but with our minds linked, I knew what he was saying anyway. “Let me go and I will never return.”

Not good enough, I replied. Do you really think I want this human now, after you’ve spoiled her? You owe me.

“What? What must I do to repay you?” he asked and I smirked to myself.

Move your tail.

“Why—” he started to ask, but I shifted my weight, my hard cock prodding him in the flank. He swallowed hard, and I felt his tail lift and slide to the side. I drew back just enough to position my tapered cockhead beneath his tail, the tip leaking copious amounts of precum and slicking my shaft. Groaning low in my throat, I lunged forward, sheathing my aching meat inside his hot anus. The centaur whinnied, his muscles clenching around me as I drove deep, deeper than with any human, burying more than half of my thick, ridged shaft inside of him. I held on tight, muscles in my groin flexing, pounding my cock into him like a piston, the pleasure shuddering through me as I raced toward my climax.

Beneath us, still impaled upon the centaur’s ebony rod, Maggie groaned as she regained consciousness. Without me in her mind to calm her, I expected her to lose it, but she just stared up at us with huge, dark eyes. She had to think she was dreaming, or some other safe explanation. Humans were good at that, denying a truth that they didn’t want to believe.

I touched the centaur’s mind again.

Go on, then, fuck her, I told him, rocking my body against his rump and pushing him into her. She gasped, then closed her eyes and moaned, her back arching as the centaur began to thrust. I matched his rhythm, fucking him hard and deep until he couldn’t take any more. His hooves stamped and he snorted, Maggie arching off the log as his cock pulsed within her, filling her womb with his thick, hot cream.

Feeling just a little wicked, I pounded him harder, making his back legs shake as his overstimulated nerves crackled in the aftermath of his orgasm.

“Please, no more!” he begged, his hands grabbing at my talons, as if he could free himself and get away. I tightened my grip, just to let him know that escape was not an option, and I sank my cock as deep as I could, almost up to the knot at the base, making him neigh from the unbearable pleasure of being filled by my massive shaft. Only then did I have mercy on the young stallion, pulling out and releasing him.

He staggered like a newborn foal as he scrambled over the log and galloped away, his mane and tail streaming behind him as he vanished into the forest. Smoke curled from my nostrils as I turned to Maggie, my blood boiling with mating lust, my cock throbbing with need. I slid back into her dazed mind, finding it as familiar as an old den.

Draw your knees up, I instructed, placing my front feet on the log, one on either side of her. She stared up at me with wide eyes and gave her head the barest shake.

“No...please...” she whispered.

I leaned down, until my snout was almost touching her nose.

Your pussy is worn out, it needs a rest, I told her, but I need to cum. So it’s up to you, do you want my cock in your tired pussy, or in your ass? Don’t worry, no one will ever know.

I could see her trembling beneath me, but after a moment, she pulled her legs up and grabbed her knees. I pressed the tip of my slick cock against her rosy, virgin anus and pushed inside. Though it took every bit of willpower I had, I refrained from pounding her like I had the centaur. I moved slow, working my meat in and out, easing just a little deeper with each restrained thrust. I could see Maggie biting her lip, her eyes shut tight, her face flushed as she fought to resist.

It feels good, doesn’t it? I whispered in her mind. You were told that good girls should not enjoy dirty sex, but those people were wrong. Mating is natural and never dirty, not if everyone involved is enjoying it. And you definitely like the way my cock feels in your ass, don’t you?

Her blush deepened, but she nodded, tiny gasps and moans escaping her tight lips. She was trembling, shaking beneath me, holding back as I fucked her tight anus. I didn’t dare go any deeper, not wanting to hurt her, but I needed more. I needed her to relax and surrender to the pleasure.

Being long and limber has it’s advantages, and I was able to twist my long neck around and tuck my head beneath my belly. The strong smell of horse cum assaulted my sensitive nostrils as I brought my snout close to her pussy, but I just held my breath as I slid my thick, sinuous forked tongue between her slick pussy lips, flicking her swollen clit until she cried out, her body bucking as she came. Overcome with ecstasy, her muscles relaxed and I sank my shaft deep inside of her, sheathing my meat in her hot passage.

I couldn’t restrain myself any longer. Digging my talons into the log, I gave in to the rut, my cock hammering into her ass as I finally satisfied that insatiable need raging inside of me. I grunted, groaning and puffing smoke into the sky as the pleasure built to a crescendo, an explosion of ecstasy racing through my body. I plunged my cock deep into Maggie and came, huge, satisfying spurts filling her with my seed.

Exhausted and sated, I pulled out, my cock softening and slipping back into my body as I climbed off the log. Maggie lay dazed and spent, her body still quaking in the aftermath of her orgasm.

Thank you, I told her as I turned to leave. Better hurry home before it gets dark.

She struggled to sit up and put her dress in order. It was dirty and stained with multiple contributions. I heard her choke back a sob.

“Look at me. Everyone will know.”

I knew it was her greatest fear, and I couldn’t help but take pity on her.

Hold still, I said, reaching out with my sharp talons. I snagged her skirts and tore long slashes in them. Taking a deep breath, I puffed wisps of fire at the material, singeing the lace and covering the stains with soot. There. Tell them I chased off the centaur before he could do anything, and you barely escaped from me with your life. They will believe you and no one will know what really happened.

Her relief was so strong, I probably would have felt it even without the mental connection.

“Oh, thank you,” she said, scrambling down from the log. She gathered up her torn skirts and ran from the clearing, heading back to the village. I followed her slow and noisy progress, making sure nothing else took an interest in her, until I could smell the smoke from the village chimneys. Then I turned and headed for my den.

It was a risk, allowing her to remember me and letting her tell the others, but as long as I didn’t start devouring their sheep or burning their cottages, I believed the villagers would leave me alone. If I wasn’t causing a problem, it was safer to just let me be. I hoped.