Then she unhooked her bra from underneath her shirt and dangled it in front of him as a tease for him while grinning at the same time. A bob of the eyebrows as well.
“You know what comes next—don’t you, Jake?” She asked serenely.
Jake swallowed a bit and nodded wordlessly, adjusting himself in his chair, but didn’t do anything to ruin the moment.
Kara undid the top three of her shirt’s buttons, while watching him and then rose up onto her feet and towered over him with intent and purpose.
Then she asked him the most obvious question of the evening.
“Shall I kiss you or shall I eat you? Which would you like first, my prince?”
“Kiss me,” he said with an eager nod.
“You don’t want me to eat you first?” Kara inquired in a slightly pouting tone of voice. “I thought you would like that most of all—being swallowed up by a dragon.”
“A dragon…?” Jake choked then as Kara leaned over, her shirt now open, and she started kissing him passionately on then mouth.
After a couple of minutes of trading both tongue and spit, Kara pulled back—eyes shining with both love and lust—and a primal hunger that went beyond basic human understanding.
“You are good enough to eat, lover boy.” She declared in a firm voice. “And I plan on having you as my supper before the evening is out.”
Jake didn’t pull away from her as she shamelessly rubbed herself up against the one side of his face—pressing one large breast against his cheek.
All he could hear at this moment was a strange sound of contentment coming from his girlfriend as he did his best to participate in this little sex game of hers.
“Open your mouth, baby.” She cooed to him softly. “Don’t you want to suck on these? Make love to them like you always do?”
Jake nodded again—completely helpless against his girlfriend and against the power she had over him. It was the price one would pay to make love to a half-ling and a magical kinsfolk all at once.
Kara giggled maliciously. “I didn’t hear you say anything, my sweet boy toy.” She whispered affectionately—knowing that he was hers to do as she pleased and there was nothing that he could do.
Not if her ancient lineage had anything to say about it.
“Yes,” he confessed wantonly—doing as he was told and letting her take full control of the situation.
Kara sighed happily for the first time in a few days—shuddering just a bit from the unabated pleasure tearing through her body.
“That’s it…suck…” she urged. “Get it all into your mouth.” Then after a minute of this, she transferred his mouth to other neglected breast, even as she started to lose herself in the moment—thinking of the times when she could transform at will—rather than through a black market pain killer drug.
Which she took in lieu of tonight’s festivities.
Rather than dull the pain, it provided the right kind of aphrodisiac that helped unlock her potential. But was only a booster for her and not a salve for her most cherished needs.
So the transformation would halt itself halfway after a fashion. But the key to becoming a full dragon still lay in her mother’s magic books and the amulet that she still wore around her neck—a chain, a prison of her true potential.
But for tonight, she was going to treat her boyfriend to a night of exquisite delight and pleasure that she had been planning on for the past month since their last rendezvous.
Taking away his favorite toys, she cradled his head between her breasts and smiled down at his black tousled hair which had a jagged part right down the middle—a thin scar from a childhood accident so long ago.
“Isn’t that better, my love?” She said with warmth and feeling. “Don’t you love the way my puffy nipples feel in your mouth—as you roll them around with your hot little tongue?”
Her boyfriend’s response was muffled for a moment, before he took that moment to look up at her and see the strong hint of the dragon that now resided under the partially transformed cheekbones of her face.
She had become even more beautiful in the time it took for the transformation to run its course. And he didn’t need to see it happen—even as he reached up with his other free hand to touch the one side of her face.
“Yes.” He answered without fear, feeling her prehensile tail wrap itself gently around his other wrist.
She laughed a bit at his statement of fact, knowing that tonight, there would be nothing to separate the two of them from a night of passion.
“I love you, Jake Harper,” she said stubbornly. “More than anything in this whole world.” Then she undid her own belt buckle and let her pants fall to the floor around her feet—exposing not only her satin pink panties but every bit of change that was left her which was once human, but now wholly dragon.
Jake sucked in his breath at the sight of his changed girlfriend and realized he was more in love with her than fear itself. It didn’t matter what happened to him in the long run—for good or ill.
Just so long as he could be by her side through it all.
Taking her hand into his, he was fascinated by the fact that her skin color had become almost a nice lavender and blue color which chased away her human complexion.
“This…this is what you’ll become—once the curse is broken?”
Kara nodded.
“Yes,” she told him.
He kissed the inside of her wrist, smelling the hint of peppermint oils and spice.
“You smell good.” He praised her openly.
“That’s my natural smell, baby.” Kara informed him, mesmerized by his actions. “When I am in my dragon form.”
He kissed her again on the wrist.
“I know.”
“You do? Do you know how many times I made this transition for you while you were here?”
“No. How many?”
Kara held up three fingers with her anamorphic hand.
“This many. And do you know why, lover boy? Why I don’t do it every time we are together?”
Jake shook his head—a tad bit clueless about the precarious position he was now in.
“No.”
The transformed woman bared her teeth at him, hissing with false malevolence. Then she coughed a couple of times before a small eruption of fire escaped from the back of her throat.
Jake saw the demonstration clear as a bell, but even still…he didn’t fear her as much as he should have.
But instead of responding, Kara’s thin tail unwrapped itself from his wrist and drifted lower to pool a bit on his exposed lap.
“You’re lucky.” She told him.
Then she turned around and put half her exposed body weight onto the table—in the spot between the flower vases and the candle sticks. With her back turned to him, she waited for her boyfriend to make his move.
He didn’t need an invitation to figure out what was on her mind at the moment. He just followed through with what came natural.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Nice to Meet You
For just the second time in one day, Tillie Gunderson managed to score not one orange, but two from the serving bowls in the lunchroom—after lunch had been served—and took them back with her out into the main hall.
While avoiding some of the more curious looks from the people around her.
Word certainly got around pretty fast that three magical familiars were staying at Mercy and some wanted to see if that was true.
But both the general and assistant manager put out a notice on the Talkie Board that their three guests be giving their privacy while they stayed—with interactions kept to a minimum because of the ongoing taboos with certain folk and magical familiars.
Leaning up against the side booth for a functional audio link kiosk, Tillie began the process of peeling her first orange while stuffing the second one in her cloak’s two side pockets.
“Excuse me?” Someone dropped in unannounced—just as she was to eat her first juicy slice of pure heaven. T
illie glanced down—with her mouth full—and caught a glimpse of this little Fae girl with a pixie bob haircut tapered around the sharp points of her ears and the ornament head band which she wore on her head.
She couldn’t have been more than eight or ten Earth years old by the way she was dressed—in human clothes no less—but she wore the most intense—questioning—expression she had seen out of anyone since coming here.
Before she could respond to the little girl, a Fae woman came tearing down the hall at full speed and promptly scooped her up before she could say anything.
Tillie didn’t hear anything out of the woman’s mouth until the end: “—you know we don’t talk to their kind, sweetie. It’s very rude.”
In the language of the Fae no less.
But Tillie got the message. Magical kinsfolk were seeking to pin the blame on their current predicament and it turned out that magical familiars were to be the scapegoat nowadays.
The teen girl nodded silently with blunt sarcasm.
Of course. She reasoned. It made a perfect kind of sense. Humanity took their angst out on magical kinsfolk over the years. Magical kinsfolk blamed us magical familiars in turn.
Warped. If not logical.
The girl popped in another orange slice into her mouth—thinking about the moment where her grandmother said they all lived in interesting times. But that wasn’t the whole truth to the matter—to which Tillie could see it in the faces of those around her:
Mutual distrust, suspicion, hostility, fear…
Not in one instant did she see anyone approach her—minus that one little faerie girl—and just try to…do what?
Be friends? Comrades-in-arms? Possible allies against the armies of the Regency Council or the Supreme Chancellor himself?
Magical familiars were always the third wheel in society’s strange relationship with the different castes of humanity, magical kinsfolk, the barely mentioned half-ling populations across the country and of course…the magical familiars.
It was no wonder why her mother laid down the law so hard on her in the early days of her childhood—even though her father was the only one of three pureblooded humans in the entire family tree.
But that didn’t explain why some—or most of all—magical kinsfolk here were giving her the cold shoulder. She hadn’t so much as stepped outside of her assigned room before the harsh truth started to make itself apparent to the teenager—the farther inside the women’s mission she went.
“Swell,” she breathed with tight-lipped sarcasm. “First day in an underground city and my first of many meetings with everyone turns out to be a fucking dud.”
Well, except for Charlie. He seems pretty nice and all. Oh, and that other guy at the pizza parlor. Mustn’t forget about him.
Tillie nodded to herself in silent gratitude—knowing some things in life weren’t a total loss; if you discounted the fact that she no longer had a home to call home towards.
Until tomorrow. She decided. That’s when we plan on retaking our high rise and grab the things we need out of our apartment and get out while we still could.
Sure enough, it would be an easy smash and grab op of some kind—something only her mother would dream up on the spot—but Tillie was certain that she could offer some much needed pointers to make sure that they had minimal contact with any patrols belonging to the Third Watch.
Finishing off the other half of her first orange, the girl gave some serious thought to what her role in this affair would be.
“Probably with my luck—supporting fire.” She revealed to nobody in particular—if she dared to think that far ahead at all. But the hallway was pretty devoid of bodies and the receptionist desk a few feet downwind of her wasn’t being manned by anyone that she could easily see.
“But I don’t really have a problem with that idea—because of my skill with my Enchanted Gatling Gun. Then my Storm Blades. And a few other tricks up my sleeve. Maybe a High-Low incantation to stir up the hornet’s nest as it were.”
That would probably bring in the heavies of the Third Watch—knowing how much they enjoyed tangling with a Storm Elemental. And Tillie didn’t want to expend all of her low level incantation spells on something that could be better served until much later—when the situation called for it.
But so far, all she had to deal with is a few hover control bots. No Engines or anything else of the rail gun category.
“Okay, so we’re fighting maybe a protracted skirmish which would mean more foot patrols and maybe a support carrier of some kind. Personnel or possibly mobile artillery. But nothing like what I saw coming into the north side of the city—before meeting up with Charlie.” The girl continued to muse openly—and without worry—while she dug into her lower pocket for that last orange.
In truth, she was saving it for later, but now seemed to be a good time to eat it. Her mom was still sacked out and Sarah Winters was in a similar state.
And she had no intention of waking them any time soon. So she was truly on her own for perhaps the second time in one day and it was the best time to come up with a plan of attack for use later on.
The hover control bots would still be a problem—fleeting as they are from the ground and the air. Individually, they could be picked off—one at a time—but in a pack…?
Tillie moaned softly for a moment, still recalling the sharp bite of the control bot’s needle-like bodily protrusion into her leather and steel vambraces.
“Fuckers are quick—I’ll give ‘em that. So I have to come up with a method to slow them down a bit.”
Feeling around herself for a moment, the girl found a fat utility pouch that was one of those rarely used ones because of both fate and circumstance.
From it, she fished out a few shiny occidental-style discs which burned bright with an inner energy of its own. Even from here, she could feel the humming electrical discharge just waiting to be unleashed at a moment’s notice.
“Watcha got there?” A curious voice called out to her—which made her almost drop her payload on the floor. But Tillie recovered just the same and put away her toys quickly before looking around for the voice’s owner.
Was it the same girl she encountered before—or…?
Then she came face to face with an élan girl about her age—if not a couple years younger. They were distant cousins to both the Fae and Elvish folk and held commonplace attributes to both races.
Tillie held back a bit, knowing the rules about no contact with anyone outside of her family and readjusted her cloak at the same time.
“Nothing,” she answered briskly. “I was just…formulating a plan.”
The other girl didn’t take offense to her sudden change in attitude or behavior.
“Going to fight the kachie again, huh?” The same girl voiced with mutual disgust.
Tillie nodded, knowing what that term meant.
“If we have to.” She acknowledged briefly. But she still held back.
But the unnamed girl took notice of her demeanor and said pleasantly: “I know the rules about you magical familiars. The ancient of us all. I won’t intrude upon you much. I just was curious—that’s all.”
“Not my rules.” The girl said in light defense of herself. “Just my mother’s. She’s a High Witch.”
The other girl’s opal colored eyes sparkled in the overhead lighting.
“The wisest of us all magical kinsfolk. Is that what you want to become?”
Tillie snorted softly. “No. A Field Mage would be a better option.”
The other girl nodded. “I have heard of them. Tales really. Nothing I could confirm. Or my family’s. But legends just the same.”
“Not really a legend,” Tillie sought to assure her. “Just a very sought after post in the Witch’s Guild for the luckiest of us all. A lifetime commission if I remember it right.”
“—which would bring not only the Witch’s Guilds together, but all magical kinsfolk as well. In a time or place of their choosing. In harmony. A golden age of unity�
�as they say. Something which surpasses Man.”
Tillie nodded, quietly amazed by her new friend’s photographic memory.
“Where did you learn this information from?”
The élan girl shrugged indifferently. “Oh. From the last ones that were here. Your fellow witches. The magical familiars whom managed to make it here to the Underground. The Resistance.” She revealed—before going quiet. “But that was ages ago. Long before I arrived in fact. I’ve only been here seven short of your human years.”
“In this city? Or here at the mission?” Tillie queried with abject concern.
“Both. My mother is the maintenance administrator for this facility. I’m one of the junior foreman—what humans call a supervisor. I have my own people to look after—believe it or not. But the work is good. The pay is adequate.”
Tillie’s shoulders slumped a bit upon hearing that news.
“Oh. I mistakenly thought you were my age at least.”
The girl perked up. “Really? How old do you think I am?”
“Fourteen? Fifteen at the least?” Tillie hazarded to guess.
The other girl laughed.
“Oh, stars! I haven’t been that old in quite awhile. But my looks often beguile confusion among the regulars. I am about twenty-two, maybe twenty-three in human years. But my race ages much more slowly than our traditional counterparts—due in part to the interbreeding that went on so many centuries ago.” She said, before holding out a hand.
“Name’s Teena. Teena Clarkson.”
Tillie hesitated for a moment, then realized that nothing better could be had by not refusing a friendly overture.
“Tillie. Tillie Gunderson. Or Tillamook if you prefer.” The girl reciprocated.
Teena’s expression changed a bit to confusion.
“Tilla-mook?” She repeated slowly.
“Muck—actually.” Tillie corrected. “It’s my nickname. Because I have a fondness for a particular brand of cheese.”
“Ah. Okay. That makes sense. Sorry. But I’m still new to some things around here. As the assistant manager suggested, we don’t get very many magical familiars around here these days. Mostly refugees from The Wild or maybe in the Lakeshore Pass area. Those two regions have been hardest hit by the armies of the Third Watch and the Seventh Arm.”
Generation Witch Year One Page 13
