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Deep relaxation
🕑 Added 2020-08-22 15:29:03 +0000 UTC
“Lie down on your back. I’d prefer to start from the head, if that is what you wish as well.”
Rynthara followed his indications, her heart fluttering in her chest, equal parts anxiety and excitement bubbling underneath the surface of her hide. Dragons seldom surrendered their belly to strangers due to the vulnerability it posed, and even the knowledge that Crytrauv had no viable way to harm her did little to abate her innate panic.
Everything changed when his hands met the sides of her snout, as small and gentle as she knew them from her previous encounter with them. Her eyes half closed instinctively, a trill of overpowering satisfaction pouring out of her as Crytrauv gently scratched the area where her jaw ended and her neck began. Try as she might to plug it into the depths of oblivion, her body refused to obey, those electrifying tingles far too enjoyable to simply smother them.
Crytrauv’s claws ceased their doing, allowing Rynthara’s eyes to snap open and shift over in his direction.
“Shhh,” he silenced her with a hand over her nostrils, the tang of scented herbs tinting his pads too relaxing to let her voice her concerns. “No more speaking from either of us.”
It wasn’t a request, but a command, one that she agreed to with through a curt nod. After all, what harm could it be in letting this fool do his thing? They would be parted within two days, thus leaving her forever denied this experience.
Crytrauv’s eyes narrowed in focus, his face looming above hers, hands enclosing her peripheral vision. His palm pads sailed up and down her cheeks, allowing his finger pads to trace the bony ridges of her eyes, applying just enough pressure to lull her eyelids into a fatiguing trance.
“It would help if you close them. Makes the experience all the more intriguing.”
Again, she did his bidding, spurred forth by curiosity. Did he know just how receptive her fur was? That every strand told her directly where he went? Each hand now cupped an ear, fondling with their purple edges at first, then squeezing the soft tissue lightly while stroking the central white blotches dotting her ears. She twitched them several times in failed attempts to discourage him, his persistence both aggravating and surprising.
It was when his attention fell on her neck that Rynthara began to purr. Crytrauv made a point of dragging his thumbs down the sinuous lines weaving along the mauve, fluffy sea, adding just the slightest, most tantalizing pressure. When he reached the base of her neck, he began kneading her muscles up to her jaws, then back down, and up again. Dragons often nipped their necks in equally gentle fashion, yet they had fangs, while Crytrauv’s fingers were equipped with soft pads.
Rynthara’s limbs tensed up. Her paws pushed into the air, toes stretching, spine arching and stretching. Stars speckled her vision from the massage-induced stretch. In one swift, sudden motion, her whole frame relaxed more than it ever did in her life, rapid huffs of satisfaction rushing past her flared nostrils.
Crytrauv wasted no time in switching to her chest, trading the slow pace of his ministrations for terse, frenzied strokes. His snappy motions ruffled the fur of her breast, the thorough kneading causing her to roll from side to side, a constant, guttural moan rippling in her throat. Rynthara swung her head back, rubbing it along the grassy ground, a forepaw kneading at Crytrauv’s hip to encourage him to keep going.
“I don’t suppose other dragons have been so attentive with you.”
“The few encounters I had with other dragons ended in a brawl of some kind,” Rynthara murmured, opening her eyes halfway, directing her pupils over to her forepaw. “I have never allowed them to get this close to me unless they wished to test my strength.”
Crytrauv’s thumbs squeezed her indigo pads, sliding them in circular patterns over her toes, repeating the same motion for her bigger, meatier heel pad. Rynthara’s claws emerged from their sheaths, reaching down on Crytrauv’s wrist, pricking it slightly.
“I’m not surprised,” he said, gently easing his index finger between her paw pads to caress the overly sensitive tissue between them. “You’re not easy to approach.”
“It is foolish to be otherwise,” she said, slowly retracting her claws to knead at Crytrauv’s hand with her toes. “Dragons can’t afford to be vulnerable. Weakness leads to distraction, and a momentary slip of guard would see me chased away from my territory or worse, heavy with the eggs of a male I may not want to call my mate.”
She blamed her honesty on the profoundly relaxed state in which Crytrauv eased her in. Although her wits remained sharp, Rynthara saw no harm in sharing her plight with a lesser creature, especially one that had every chance to die absent her protection.
“That is a dangerous path you have chosen,” Crytrauv spoke in that hushed, calculated way of his, hands trailing up her foreleg and stopping at a shoulder, pressing hard into it to soothe the muscles there. “Desires have a will of their own. If left unchecked, they continue to pool up, until they burst at the most inopportune of times.”
“Mrrrh,” Rynthara rumbled, pushing Crytrauv’s arms further down her belly with her forepaws. She then splayed her wings on the ground, tail curling and relaxing in anticipation of his touch over there. He had surpassed her initial expectations, and now she intended to find out if the same skill could be applied to an area better fit for his small, dexterous hands.
Crytrauv refused to follow her cue, reaching towards the frame of a wing sprawled across the dusky grass. Though slightly bigger than what his hands could encompass, the arctic fox made due nevertheless, applying a series of soft, rapid squeezes along her sensitive muscle that increased in both strength and intensity.
“Mmmmmriiiiiiiih,” Rynthara mewled, her feathers ruffling as her whole wing began to twitch and quake from the slightly ticklish but incredibly fulfilling massage. Her tail whipped across her belly, tail feathers fanning out and contracting back to their original shape.
Emboldened by his success, Crytrauv snaked down her shoulder, giving her stomach a good ruffle, followed by long, sweeping strokes across her belly. Rynthara’s head thumped back on the ground, eyes glued to the starry sky. Her lips and eyelids twitched every time he closed in on her slit, haunches shuddering in veiled eagerness for him to touch that most sensitive area of hers. She would never admit it to him, of course, but a growing part of her grew terribly curious with the idea of experiencing a pleasure that she had forever rejected so far.
*
Hope you liked the little descriptive excerpt. If you fancy reading the full chapter, find it here https://www.patreon.com/posts/trek-through-ch2-40737543
Rynthara(c) is my character
Crytrauv(c) belongs to https://www.furaffinity.net/user/crytrauv/
Cover art done by https://www.furaffinity.net/gallery/godzi15/
