by Dante King
I stepped through the heavy door, which Penelope had left just ajar, and shut it quickly behind me, as I had been instructed. A heavy metal latch fell into place barring it.
The room was obviously a small, private office or study room. There were piles of books stacked haphazardly about the place, pyramids of scrolls, and wads of parchment.
Above us, I could see a young moon through huge panes of glass set into an iron girder ceiling. It looked to me like a part of the grand glass dome that spanned the library proper overlapped into this small office in which Penelope studied and worked. It was quite strikingly hip, in an industrial way, and I once more caught myself thinking how well the design of the Drako Academy would have gone down within the Los Angeles restaurant scene.
I noticed these things, weirdly, before being struck by the object that was hanging in the center of the room. The object that Penelope was sitting in.
I instantly recognized it as, a sex-swing—though it had clearly been made by Penelope and not just ordered off Lovehoney.com. It was hanging from one of the metal girders, in a pool of light cast by a single lantern.
Penelope was sitting in the thing, her bare blue feet wedged in the stirrups, a metal bar connected to each ankle stopping her from closing her legs. She was still dressed in her navy Librarian robe. The skirt fell across her and helped her retain her modesty. Her head was cradled in the sling at the back of the swing, her arms were held up above her, and her hands gripped a couple of leather straps.
She was looking defiantly at me, as if daring me to laugh.
Fat chance of that. If I was reading the situation correctly—if what I thought and hoped was about to go down was, in fact about to go down—then I saw nothing funny about it. I saw a lot about it that was incredibly exciting, that might prove to be extremely fun, but nothing actually funny.
I looked around the room aimlessly. I saw some other details of the space, but they slipped from my mind as soon as my eyes moved away from them. The only thing that I could see was the imprint of the shy, reserved, quiet Librarian hanging in a sex swing on my retinas. It was like when you stare at the sun and it embosses itself on your eyes in a blue smudge.
“So,” I said, not quite knowing how to play this one, “this is your office, huh? I like your seating arrangements.”
Penelope gave me a small, shy smile.
“You look a little shocked, Mike,” she said, in the same polite way she might have commented that I looked tired or angry.
I puffed out my cheeks and ran my tongue across my suddenly dry lips.
“I think surprised would be a more accurate word,” I said.
“Surprised? Surprised how?” Penelope asked.
Surprised in the same way that someone might be if they bent down to pat a Pekingese and the thing bit their arm off, was what I thought.
What I actually said though was, “Well, you’re such a sweet, reserved girl, you know. I guess, I’m just surprised that you have this side to you.”
Penelope bit her lip and looked at me from out of her all-blue eyes. “Too many people parade all that they are, for all to see. I prefer a little mystery in my life. A little of the unexpected. I was hoping that you would too.”
I smiled a Cheshire Cat grin then. “Hey, you won’t hear me complaining about surprises. I just need a minute to catch up!”
I ran my eyes over the suspended Knowledge Sprite. From her face, down to the tips of her perfect blue toes. My gaze, predictably—and no doubt as Penelope had intended it to be—was drawn back to the folds of her robe’s skirt. She had hiked them up a little more to show off the strong muscles of her calves.
I swallowed. My imagination ran gleefully away, over the fields of fancy, and busied itself with what ridiculously hot delights might be waiting under that skirt.
“Are you caught up yet, Mike?” Penelope said, breaking into my thoughts.
I cleared my throat and locked eyes with her.
“Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, I’d say I’m up with the play now.”
I stepped forward. I could feel that familiar coiling fire of expectation spreading through my body. I could see that same fire mirrored in the eyes of the Librarian straddling the sex-swing, in eyes that were no longer as shy nor as reserved as they had been previously.
I reached out and took Penelope’s ankles in my hands. Ran my fingers up the outsides of her calves.
Higher.
Higher.
I pushed the folds of her robe northward, revealing more leg, more thigh.
Penelope was trembling slightly. I was aware that she longed for some real physical contact, not this gentle, slow teasing. Knowing this, I continued to inch my hands up the sides of her thighs, revealing more of her shapely legs in slow increments.
While I was teasing this grand reveal out and, hopefully, ratcheting up the sexual tension that Penelope was feeling, I could feel myself heating up. The old scrotum totem was stiffening like I had just poured some liquid starch down it. Just before my fingertips reached Penelope’s hip bones, I stopped and dropped my hands.
“What are you—” Penelope began to say, but I put my finger to my lips and gave her a look that stopped the words in her throat. “Oh, I see,” she whispered.
I walked around her, bent down, and kissed her hard on the lips. Then, as her tongue tried to explore my mouth, I pulled away and ran the tip of my finger around her lips. Obediently, the Librarian opened her mouth, and I slipped first my forefinger and then my middle finger into it. Penelope, obviously becoming more and more turned on by the second, started to run her tongue over my two digits and then to suck on them gently, all the while looking at me as I stood over her.
“You always hear people say,” I said softly in the Knowledge Sprite’s ear, caressing her neck with my hand, “that it’s the quiet ones you’ve got to watch.”
Without warning, I slipped my hand down the front of her robe and cupped her small breast in my hand. The nipple was as erect as I hoped it would be, and I massaged her tit before pinching it between thumb and forefinger.
“Uh,” Penelope gave a little, sharp gasp, which dissolved into a groan of longing. “I do very much like that, Mike Noctis.”
I twisted her other nipple, harder this time, and she lay her head back and moaned again.
“Mmm,” she let out, “very, very much.”
I could practically feel the current of lust crackle down from Penelope’s chest to her groin.
Without moving from where I stood by Penelope’s head, I reached down and tugged up her robe so that the blue-skinned Librarian was naked from the waist down.
I felt my pulse pick up at the sight of Penelope’s body. Her thighs were as toned as you might expect for someone who spent most of the day on her feet even when she wasn’t in dragonmancer training, but not as muscular as Saya’s. There was a small triangle of dark blue hair that marked the top of her vagina and drew my eye down.
A little roughly, I reached down and gave her box a gentle slap with my four fingers.
“Oh,” Penelope groaned and bucked slightly in her restraints.
I gave her vagina another little love-tap, and she bucked again, biting her lip and looking at me hungrily. I felt the back of my hand and noted how wet it was with Penelope’s girl juice.
“Have you been hanging out for this?” I asked.
“Was that an attempt at a pun?” the Librarian shot back at me, indicating the sex-swing with her all-blue eyes.
In reply, I ran a finger down her slot and slipped it into her tight pink bits.
Penelope grunted, and her head tipped backward again as her whole body went momentarily rigid.
I moved around to stand next to the Librarian’s side and slipped another finger inside of her. Gently, I began to finger-fuck her.
I was in no way a prudish dude, but I had to admit to myself that the bookish Penelope being the kind of chick who had a sex-swing in her office was probably the biggest sexual surprise I had ever encountered. I mean,
I just really did not see that one coming! Coupled with the impression I was getting that the blue-skinned, timid Librarian had the sexual appetite of a BDSM-prone lioness in heat and, well, this had the potential to be an evening study session to remember.
I picked up my pace when Penelope, who couldn’t quite shake her inherent politeness despite how dirty this situation was becoming, said, “Finger me harder, please!”
I gave her what she wanted. I shoved three fingers, and then four, inside of her and began jackhammering her, while at the same time I stuck my free hand up her robe and played with her nipples.
The Librarian thrashed in her bonds, moaning and crying out at the delicious smashing I was delivering, and trying desperately not to succumb to the building urge to cum.
“Must. Hold. Off.” She groaned through each thrust of my fingers. “Patience. Penelope. Patience.”
I couldn’t help but smile at her little pep-talk, midway through a furious fingering.
This naturally revved my libido up into the red. After watching her enjoyment for a good few minutes, I couldn’t refrain from taking the next step.
I moved swiftly around her, ducked under the metal bar that locked her ankles and kept her legs separated, and stood in between her bare thighs. Feverishly, I unbuckled my sword belt and pulled out my cock.
“Yes, please,” was all that Penelope said, her eyes glued to the rock-hard shaft I held in my hand.
I gasped with unadulterated pleasure as I filled Penelope’s eager, wet vagina, thrusting the length of my cock into her in one long, smooth push.
To my delight, it didn’t take long for Penelope to shrug off the last of her inhibitions and selfishly apply herself to the task of orgasming.
The Librarian’s legs might have been fixed in position, but she held them up of her own accord, the deeper to take my cock. I could feel my testicles slapping against the Knowledge Sprite’s asshole and could feel the wetness of her excitement dripping down to coat my nuts as they made contact over and over again.
I started to pick up my pace, using the angle that the sex-swing was holding Penelope at to make sure that, each and every time I rammed into her, my cock penetrated as deeply as possible.
“Timperata nin vamor!” Penelope screamed, then her worlds devolved into guttural cries and utterances in a bizarre language that must have been the tongue that Knowledge Sprites used back in their native land. I might not have understood the words that she was using, but I got the meaning of them right enough; the Librarian was on the cusp of winning the Emmy for Best Orgasm.
I grabbed onto the Knowledge Sprite’s thighs and began pounding away at her as if my life depended on it. A small—a very small, if I were honest—part of my brain wondered whether anyone outside in the quiet of the Grand Library could hear what was going on.
Penelope’s mouth fell open, and her eyes rolled up into the back of head. She let out a long, rasping, strained expulsion of breath.
“Ahhhhh,” she bellowed.
And, taking my cue, I let myself go and emptied myself into her warmth.
Damn, but those sex swings really are fucking great inventions. I went up onto my tip toes, every muscle in my lower body straining, as I thrust one last time as far into Penelope’s soaking, slippery snatch as I could. There was a flicker of light, weaker than any that I had seen after cumming in the other dragonmancer women. It was almost imperceptible.
I didn’t worry about cumming inside of Penelope. If I had taken one thing away from that threesome-turned-foursome up at the Seer’s house, it was that my magical little swimmers were currently bereft of the stuff that helped cook up and churn out dragonlings.
I pulled my cock out of the satiated Librarian, ducked under the bar that held her legs apart, and tucked myself back into my breeches.
For her part, Penelope stayed where she was in the sex-swing, her body far limper than it had been a mere sixty seconds before.
“Is it done?” she asked me breathlessly, her eyes still shut.
I looked at her open legs, at her gorgeous, blue-lipped vagina, out of which a trickle of my seed was dripping onto the floor of her office.
“Uh, yeah,” I said, pulling my long, brown hair back and retying it into a bun. “I’d say that you could consider that done.”
The Librarian opened her eyes a touch, so that I could see a gleaming slit of blue under her lid.
“I have a dragon in me?”
This took me aback. I wasn’t aware that anyone, bar myself, the Seer, Elenari, and Saya, was aware of that particular talent of mine. Still, perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised.
Penelope was the sort of perceptive, smart woman that could find a whisper in a whirlwind. She had also caught a glimpse, I was fairly certain, of a pregnant Elenari and Saya one day at Augury Grove.
“I…. Uh… I’m not sure that it’s wise to be spouting all that sort of stuff, Penelope,” I said as I tried to get my breath back under control. “From what I hear that kind of talk can be dangerous, you know.”
Penelope unhooked her feet from the stirrups of the sex-swing and gave me one of her very bright, very knowing looks.
I gave her one back.
“How the fuck do you know about that?” I asked, deciding to be straight up. “How the hell do you know that I can,” and I dropped my voice an octave or two, “make dragons.”
Penelope gave me a smile that was three equal parts sly, enigmatic, and cute.
“I’m a Librarian, Mike,” she said, primly straightening her robe and patting her blue hair, “I have access to all sorts of knowledge.”
Seeing the uncertain look that was on my face, the Knowledge Sprite leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.
“Don’t worry,” she said, “your secret is safe with me, Michael Noctis, first Dragon Breeder in an age of ages.”
“You didn’t do all this because you wanted a dragon, did you?”
“Of course not,” Penelope said.
I eyed her for a few moments, scanning her features for any sign of a lie. I couldn’t find one.
“Why didn’t you mention it earlier, then?” I asked her.
“Because I couldn’t believe it was true. It was only when I saw the flicker of light that I realized that you are a very special dragonmancer indeed.”
“Well,” I said, “I’m sorry to tell you this, but my jizz is all out of the dragon-making ingredient. At least for now.”
“Oh,” Penelope said. She seemed disappointed for a moment before she shrugged. “No matter. It would merely have been an extra benefit to sleeping with you.”
“On that note,” I said, “care for round 2? This being a dragonmancer business means I’m pretty fucking virile.”
Penelope gave me a smile that bespoke of a sexual hunger that would require at least another three rounds before it would be satiated.
In fact, it was five rounds before she even suggested that we should grab supper.
Chapter Thirteen
With a single-minded dedication that I was able to channel from my MMA days—which felt now as if they had had happened to another dude in some other place and I had just somehow absorbed the knowledge—I threw myself into my dragonmancer training.
The next few days zipped by. I had thought I had known what an intense physical training workload had been, but dragonmancer training was something else entirely. The main difference to anything I had done on Earth was that here, under the storm clouds and sun of the Mystocean Empire, I was learning how to become the best warrior I could be so that when the shit hit the fan, I wouldn’t wind up dead.
That was the chief reason that I wanted to be the best and most formidable dragonmancer that I could be: to minimize the chances of me getting an arrow through the throat or a trident all tangled up in my guts like a fork in a plateful of fettuccine.
I zoned into each and every one of my classes with a furious zeal. Even Combat Theory, which involved a lot more theory than combat, was a couple of hours where I tried to t
urn my mind into a sponge and soak up all the lessons that Preceptor Tang’s tales of battles gone by and fallen dragonmancers offered us.
So it was that that first week of classes passed in the blink of an eye. I would wake up at the crack of dawn—usually before dawn had cracked the sky actually—eat breakfast, and then head to my Physical Training lesson. From there, I only paused or got off my feet when I was sitting down to eat or else studying in the Grand Library. When I fell into bed each night, and I let my fatigue wash me into a dreamless sleep, the last thing my brain dwelt on was how Elenari and Saya were going looking after Garth and Wayne, the dragonlings. I assumed that there was nothing to report, as I had had no communication from either of the women or the Seer. My best guess was that they were minimizing the chance of anyone in the Martial Council finding out about this by not risking any messages.
One of the aspects of being dragon bonded that I came to appreciate the most wasn’t any of the more spectacular facets that might jump to mind. It was the way that being bonded to Noctis gave me such an insane, latent power for recovery. It was incredible. I would go to bed as sore in the muscles and weary in the mind as I had ever been in my life. Then, the following morning, before daybreak, my eyes would snap open and I would spring out from my bed like I’d just been given a shot of adrenaline, feeling as good as new.
It was a galvanizing and intoxicating sensation, feeling the way I felt every day. My muscles were pumped full of potential energy and stored mayhem. I felt that, if I wanted to, I could move so fast that I’d be able to blow out the candle that burned in my dorm room and make it to the door before it got dark. I felt strong enough to bend iron like toffee, and make Samson look like a delicate and sensitive flower.
I had been attending my classes for a week, and I was just getting into a proper routine, falling into a regime in which my mental game was strong, when I was sent a message just before noon.
I had arrived back from my Physical Training class out in the forest glade. Today, thanks to Sergeant Milena’s time management, we had had time at the end of the class to run all the way back to the castle to meet our waiting squads. I was standing with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath, while my squad stood nearby, when a uniformed messenger came to stand next to me.
