The Sorceress of Belmair (14 page)

“What just happened?” Nidhug asked Cirillo.

“Whoever enchanted the hidden room to keep it from the Belmairans set an eye amid the ceiling decoration to spy should anyone manage to get into the room,” Cirillo explained. “And they set a spell to close the chamber up should anyone linger too long within it.” He looked at the marble wall before him.
“Door appear. Here!”
he said aloud. But nothing happened. And suddenly the key in his hand disappeared.

“The key!”
Nidhug cried.

“There is no longer a need for it as that small chamber no longer exists,” Cirillo explained to her.

“Where is Prentice, and the books that came from the shelves?”

“Safe in his own chambers, and enchanted so no others of my kind can harm him. I am a faerie prince. No other faerie can undo my spell,” Cirillo said.

“Oh, dear,” the dragon fretted. “I wonder if Prentice has what he needs.”

“He has every book in that library that held any reference to faeries,” Cirillo said. “Whether it will be enough only time will tell us.” He smiled up at Nidhug. “And now, my dear Nidhug, would you like to go somewhere private so we may get to know one another better? I will admit I have not seen many dragons, but you are surely the most beautiful one I have ever laid my faerie eyes upon.”

The dragon fluttered her gold tipped purple eyelashes at him coquettishly. “Have you the power to shape-shift yourself into one of my kind?” she asked him.

Cirillo smiled again. “I do. And after we have tasted passion as your species, will you allow me to change you briefly into a mortal so we may taste it again? I much enjoy mortals as lovers,” he admitted.

“Let me see what sort of a dragon you can be,” Nidhug said. “And yes, you may change me afterward into a mortal for a time. I have always wondered what it would be like to have a mortal body. They seem so frail.
Ohhh, my!
”

Before Belmair’s Great Dragon there suddenly stood another dragon. He stood just slightly taller than Nidhug, and he was absolutely gorgeous. His scales were a pale ice-blue edged in gold. The crest upon his head was both silver and gold, and enclosed with a bejeweled crown. His delicate wings were a mixture of both gold and silver, giving them a giltlike appearance. The claws on his paws and feet were silver tipped in gold. “Do I please you, my dear Nidhug?” Cirillo’s seductive voice asked her.

“You do indeed,” the dragon female replied. “Follow me.” And she rose up, the ceiling of the Academy library dissolving before her as they soared together into the sky above them, which was now brilliant with the coming sunset. Shaded against the reds, the oranges and golds of the sky the two dragons flew together over the darkening sea to the mountains of Belia, and into a cave that Nidhug favored. The cave was high and dry, and lit by flickering scented torches.

Cirillo found it fascinating that there was no love play involved in their mating. Once deep within the chamber of the cave Nidhug lifted her dragon’s tail, and he observed her wet and throbbing sex, which glowed a bright scarlet. Strangely excited by the sight he felt his dragon male organ swell with the strongest lust he had ever experienced. With a roar he thrust it into her, his paws reaching around to hold her steady as he pounded within her until she began to bellow her pleasure, and they both were breathing fire that scorched the walls of the cave. He actually felt the walls of her sheath enclosing him, squeezing him hard, and then dissolving into shudders of pleasure. Knowing he had more than satisfied her he released his lustful juices into her, realizing as he did that he, too, had been gratified by their mating.

“You are a magnificent lover,” Nidhug praised him when they had recovered from their passions and lay quietly upon the cave’s floor. “Quite the best I have ever known.”

“Let us see if you appreciate me in my faerie form when I make you briefly mortal,” he told her.

“I must rest first,” Nidhug said. “Your exertions have quite exhausted me, my dear Cirillo. When I am ready we will return to my castle, and it is there we shall enjoy each other again. This time I shall play the mortal to your faerie prince.” She simpered, and then she closed her eyes, and began to snore lightly.

Cirillo followed suit, for if the truth be told he was tired himself. It amazed him to learn that his lustful nature could be transferred into the body of a male dragon without losing a bit of his energy. When he awoke he found himself alone. “Nidhug?” he called.

A moment later she appeared cradling a large sea-green egg in her arms. “This is my heir, Nidhug XXIII. Will you give it your faerie blessing, Cirillo of the Forest Faeries?”

“Of course!” he said, touched by the maternal look in her eye. “Blessings upon you, Nidhug XXIII. May you faithfully serve Belmair as your honorable ancestors before you have done. Know that you will always have the friendship of my people.” Reaching out, Cirillo touched the egg gently with his dragon’s paw, and it glowed golden in response.

“Thank you,” his female companion said. “I will restore the egg to its nest now. Then we will return to my castle. I am eager to see what kind of a female you will make of me, my dear Cirillo.” She disappeared back into the dimness of the cave, and when she returned the egg was no longer in her possession.

“You have honored me in revealing your offspring to me,” Cirillo told her.

Nidhug dipped her head slightly in acknowledgment of the compliment. “Belmair is changing,” she said. “My offspring will need all the good fortune it can obtain when the day comes for it to take my place. I am not old by dragon standards at all, and so it will be some time before I decide to birth my hatchling, and then it will take at least another thousand years to train it properly.”

“You did not say if it is a female or a male,” Cirillo said.

“I do not know,” Nidhug told him. “It will make that decision itself in the moment before it bursts through its shell. Come now, my prince. I am eager to enjoy another lustful bout of passion with you.” Moving to the cave’s entry, she unfurled her wings, and rose up into the midnight-black sky. He followed, and together beneath the light of Belmair’s twin moons they returned to the dragon’s castle.

Tavey awaited them. His eyes were curious of his mistress’s companion, but they widened when the pale blue dragon morphed into an extraordinarily handsome faerie prince. “Mistress,” he managed to say. “The supper is waiting.”

“This is Tavey,” Nidhug introduced her serving man. “And this gentleman is the king’s uncle, Prince Cirillo of the Forest Faeries. He is my guest. See that a place is set for him at my table.”

“At once, mistress,” Tavey bowed.

“Tavey has been with me forever,” Nidhug said as she led Cirillo to her dining chamber. “Nothing surprises him.” Seating herself at the head of the table she indicated that he was to sit on her right. He looked astounded as the food was brought in, and Nidhug swallowed down two barrels of raw oysters, three dozen broiled salmon, two dozen baked chickens, a whole side of roasted beef, a roasted wild boar and three sides of venison followed by a platter containing forty-eight artichokes that had been steamed in white wine and were served with a mustard sauce for dipping, an enormous bowl of salad greens and a wheel of cheese, as well as several loaves of bread.

The faerie prince enjoyed such foods, but certainly in moderation. He managed a dozen of the cold raw oysters, some boar and venison, an artichoke and some salad. The wine served was a dark red, heady and rich. His goblet was never allowed to empty. They carried on a conversation as they ate. “How long have you guarded Belmair?” he asked her out of curiosity. “Being the twenty-second of your name I assume there were many dragons before you.”

“Only one,” Nidhug admitted. “My father was here at Belmair’s creation. I was hatched shortly after. He watched over it as its mortal population developed and grew. But he did not like mortals. He retired to his sanctum on Belia a thousand years later, leaving me to care for Belmair’s fate. As I was a female he advised me to put a number after my name. It would make me, make the lineage from which I sprang, seem more impressive, he said. And so I chose twenty-two. I think it is a grand number, don’t you, Cirillo? I picked Tavey and some others from among the Belmairans to serve me. Then I gifted them with lives as long as my own for I do not like change at all. When I die they will age in that instant, and die, too. Until then they remain exactly as they were when I took them into my service,” she told him. “Ah, here is dessert! I’m afraid I have a terrible sweet tooth,” Nidhug admitted as the servants brought in several sponge cakes filled with fresh whipped cream and soaked in wine, a platter of brightly colored jellies, another filled with fruit tarts, and a bowl of grapes and melon slices.

As he ate a cherry tart, Cirillo watched, delighted, as Nidhug gobbled down the cakes, the jellies and the remainder of the tarts. Her appetite was a wonder.

“Shall I have Tavey bring the bowl of fruit to my bedchamber along with some wine and restoratives?” she asked him slyly.

He nodded.

“What kind of a woman will you make me?” she asked.

“Based upon your appetite I shall make you a woman of generous proportions. Faerie women are too slender for me. I prefer a nice mortal lass with some meat on her bones,” Cirillo said candidly. He arose. “Are you ready, my dear Nidhug?”

“Tavey,” the dragon called to her servant. “Bring the fruit and some wine to my bedchamber. And when you have departed it know that I do not wish to be disturbed until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Of course, mistress,” Tavey replied with a bow, picking up the bowl of fruit and hurrying off.

When they reached the dragon’s bedchamber they found the fruit, and a decanter of wine awaiting them. The great four-poster bed had been turned down. Cirillo shut the door firmly behind them and turned the key in the lock for extra privacy. He turned to face Nidhug. “Are you ready?” he repeated, and when she nodded he said,
“Dragon before me, disappear!
Mortal woman now appear!”

And as he watched the dragon scales melted away, and a beautiful woman took shape before him. She was big boned with large breasts, full hips and well-fleshed thighs. Her belly was slightly rounded but not ponderous. Her hair was a deep auburn red, and her eyes were purple. Looking into those eyes he saw the dragon looking back at him. Cirillo smiled, well pleased. “You are as perfect as a mortal as you are as a dragon.”

“Let me see!” Nidhug turned about to face the large mirror that stood on the floor of the chamber. “Oh,” she said, and it was obvious she was pleased with what she saw. “I am quite a pretty woman, aren’t I? Oh, look at my nipples! They are the size and color of pale pink cherries. They look quite good enough to eat!”

“And so I shall eventually,” Cirillo promised her, smiling.

“I’m naked,” Nidhug observed. “I like the nice warm gold tone you have given my flesh.” She touched herself. “It is so soft. No wonder mortals are so easily wounded. Their skin is practically permeable. Still, it is pretty.” She turned her eyes upon him. “Why, my dear Cirillo, are you still clothed?” With a snap of her fingers she undressed him, and they both laughed. “I must say,” Nidhug complimented him, “that your manhood seems quite delightfully large. I think I shall enjoy it every bit as much as I did your dragon’s spear earlier in the cave. I thought I should be burst asunder when you put yourself into me. It was quite delicious.” She smiled into his green eyes, for he had made certain she would be of a height to do so. “Shall we get started again? What shall we do first, my dear Cirillo? You must lead the way for I only know the basics of mortal couplings.”

“Turn about, and gaze at yourself in the mirror,” he said, coming to stand behind her. He gathered up her very full breasts in his hands and fondled them, squeezing them, pinching the nipples and pulling upon them. “Take your hands and draw your nether lips apart for me,” Cirillo said. “Ah, how lovely you are, my dear Nidhug.”

“Are we going to couple or not?” she demanded to know.

“Mortals take time for love play, and you will find if you relax that such play is well suited to mortal bodies.” Holding one of her large breasts in his hand he reach down with the other hand to find her female center, tweaking it strongly.

“Oh, my!” Nidhug exclaimed.

“You see,” the prince said.

“Do it again!” she said eagerly, and he complied until she was wet and squirming; her full fleshy buttocks rubbing against his groin.

“Oh, my!” Nidhug said again as she felt the thick length rubbing between the cheeks of her ass. “But that is not where it goes?” she asked curiously.

“Sometimes, but most of the time not,” he said as he turned her about, and his mouth found hers.

Nidhug, being a dragon, had never before experienced the touch of another’s lips upon her. It was the most exciting thing she had ever known. The full lips he had given her kissed him back. Her mouth opened of itself it seemed, and she felt his tongue caressing her tongue with such fiery intensity that a moan escaped her throat. Her breasts were crushed against his chest. Her thighs pressed against his thighs. His manhood throbbed against her leg, and she felt a companion throbbing deep past her nether lips. She moaned again and he slowly backed her up against the bed, pushing her down, lifting her legs up holding them firmly, and then thrusting hard into her as he stood before her. Nidhug gasped with the instant pleasure that swept over the mortal body she now wore as again and again and again he fucked her until she was screaming with her delight, and reaching a peak, fell away into a dark, soft place. When she came to consciousness again they were both in the bed, side by side. “That was quite marvelous,” she told him. “You more than outdo your reputation.”

“My dear Nidhug,” Cirillo told her. “We have only just begun our evening of sport. It is at least five hours until the dawn, and I intend to have you in every way that a faerie man may have a dragon who wears the form of a mortal woman by the time the sun rises over Belmair.”

Nidhug shivered with anticipation. “Let us not waste a minute,” she told him. “I quite like the way in which this mortal female’s body enjoys passion.”