The Princess's Keeper

As yet another roar echoed through the halls and rattled the tapestries that hung from the old, stone walls, Princess Elena mused that the dragon who guarded her tower must have been having a particularly bad morning. It was rare for the giant blue beast to be so fearsomely loud and irritable, especially in the early hours when he knew she tended to be asleep, and finally, the blonde woman forced herself to clamber out of bed to see what could be so amiss. Hopefully nothing too dire - she'd hoped to spend the day gardening.

She very nearly ran straight into the dragon - or, rather, what little of him could fit inside the tower.

"Oh - oh, my," the petite blonde princess gaped, unable to tear her eyes away from the massive, dark blue-black member was that shoved rather inelegantly through the normally picturesque window - the dragoncock was about half the size of her body, and it was thickly veined and seemed to radiate heat. She had never seen this part of him before, a fearsome guard who prevented her from fleeing back to the nation that had exiled her. No, this was a very new scene for the poor princess.

Admittedly, a part of her was tempted to touch it, but Elena could see something that beaded at the tip: a clear, slightly sticky liquid that pooled on her ornate rug from the faraway deserts of Agovia. "You're making quite the mess in here, did you know that?"

The dragon didn't respond audibly, but she saw his member throb and, despite her misgivings, Elena couldn't help but reach out and place a hand on the thick, hot organ. Immediately, she heard the dragon's breath rattle out in a sigh, and his member throbbed again under her touch - she shivered as she could feel the blood rushing, and oddly, a flush spread over her body. "Do you like that?" she asked, thinking that he must.

He affirmed with another sigh, and she watched his cock convulse, dripping the strange liquid onto her rug once more.

The Princess could see the dragon's hindquarters as they hung over the side of the castle, his claws digging into the masonry, his erect need pulsing each time his massive heart beat. She couldn't see his serpentine face, but she could picture it - the large, cobalt eyes and the ivory fangs that dripped with saliva, his lips curled into a fearsome snarl of demand. Her stomach fluttered excitedly at the thought, which was strange. "What's going on with you? Don't you have more manners than this, Jaarel?"

Jaarel, the dragon, responded with a shuddering rumble that shook her tower - a roar, though less insistent than it had been when he had been trying to wake her. The bestial keeper of her tower had never done this before, and she wondered what inspired him to be so, well, blunt. Had something happened while she slept? Was this something that all dragons did?

It had been nearly three years since Elena's evil stepmother had decreed her presence a threat to the new royal line and had ordered her executed - she was 18 now, far past the suitable age of marriage. Her loving father had feebly offered that she be exiled away in a dragon-guarded tower as an alternative to execution, to which her stepmother had reluctantly agreed, but only if she got to choose the tower and the dragon.

Elena didn't know how her stepmother had chosen Jaarel, but as she considered him, or what little she could see of him, she wondered if this was another part of her stepmother's evil plans. Doubtful, really - until now, Jaarel had done little more than grumble about, roaring at the passing knights to convince them that an exiled princess wasn't worth dying over, while dropping off dead deer and cattle every few days to ensure that she didn't die of starvation. He had never even spoke to her, though she had read many books in her tower's oddly impressive library since her incarceration that indicated he could do so if he wanted. He simply didn't. Which Elena didn't mind, but it made all of this much more strange.

It had been an alright life, but now, obviously something had changed. The question was - what?

Elena had been silent as she'd thought, her hand still resting on the dragon's need, and her stillness must of irritated him, because in the next minute he roared again, thrashing, his cock shaking about as he tried to thrust himself deeper into the tower. The muscles on his hindquarters rippled as he gripped the stone, straining, and Elena cried out as she saw cracks appearing across the walls of her room.