>Your high school recently started accepting mamono. Too little, too late in your opinion.
>You’re in your Junior year. Transfer students are trickling in, but you doubt there’s time to meet anyone. Not that you care for the high impact sexual activities that go on behind the backs of the faculty – something that would be a constant danger to you as you try to sort out your projects and go about your life.
>It WOULD be… but for some reason, nobody bothers you.
>Your friend says that’s worse. It means you’ve been marked by one of the more powerful monsters. But that’s not possible. Those particular mamono keep to themselves and in the few times you’ve tried to speak to them for other reasons they’ve been a little standoffish towards you. Sometimes outright mean.
>You’re not sure why, you’ve always considered yourself pretty handsome. Maybe it’s overconfidence. They’re certainly not as overzealous as that popular hentai series from a few years ago made them out to be. At least, not in front of you. You’ve heard stories, obviously.
>By far the most irritating to you, however, is someone you and the others dubbed “The Princess”
>She’s a dragon, spoiled as they come, beautiful, athletic, talented, and cruel to everyone.
>She had long red hair and an ass to die for. Her face seems dominated by a permanant look of irritation. Maybe it’s the people. Or maybe it’s the fact that her requests to skip years had been denied time and time again. By her parents.
>A lot of rumors go around about her, but all you know is this; if you ask her out, she’ll embarrass you in front of the whole school. She once burst into your classroom to do just that to a boy near you. She read out his love letter to everyone and then gave him his answer. The wall is still only patched with wooden planks. She didn’t even get suspended.
>You keep to yourself. You’ve really been getting into a project recently, from one of the several times you made the mistake of being alone with the local cheshire. You asked her what she’d research. “Orgasms.” She said. “No, really. We don’t know how they work, do we?”
>You have no idea if she was joking. Anyway, the faculty barely glanced over your project proposal, and you know for a fact that a lot of the girls in my year were doing much worse projects, so you were good to go. At least yours had a basis in a somewhat unknown science, right?
>You’d done a lot of research. Not on any person, but online. And not like watching porn, which you’re sure was the method of choice for some of my other fellow students. Real research.
>Do you know that the orgasms in men, women, and many mamomo actually work completely differently?
>Do you know that an orgasm requires a specific amount of arousal that must be built up over quite a long time?
>Did you know that, theoretically, someone can be kept just close to orgasm but not quite there for a very long ti-
>You turn around. It’s the princess. “Hello.” You say, making an immediate effort to sit down on your project to prevent her from reading it.
>”I’m sorry, are you addressing me? My title is-“
>”What do you want?”
>You keep your voice level and calm, as if you are asking a friend in need what they want you to do. She stares at you for a moment, then gives you something.
>”I want you to keep t-this, Anon.” She says, her voice barely a whisper. “DO NOT lose it.”
>You look at the key in your hand, for the moment ignoring that despite the fact you’d never talked, she knew your name, and, even stranger, that The Princess of all people was calling someone by their name. “What is it for?” You ask her.
>She looked at you, struggling with something internally. “JUST KEEP IT!” She snapped. “NO MATTER WHAT! THIRTY DAYS, THEN GIVE IT BACK! ARE YOU STUPID?”
>She stomped away. You swore you could hear something clinking, but eh, she’s a dragon. They do have strange traditions. It’ll be armor, you bet.
>You look down at the key. Well then.
>You don’t hear anything from her for almost three days. This key is pretty cool – it’s made of what may well be gold and it’s got a chain that goes around your neck and, true to your word, for whatever reason, you keep hold of it. You wonder why exactly the dragon wanted you to keep a key for 30 days, but you don’t approach her over it.
>She always seems to be around now. Wherever you are, she’s somewhere nearby. She’s not exactly watching you.
>Maybe it’s you noticing her more. She’s got these powerful claws, this way of moving, that you can’t help but keep glancing over at.
>Man, she’s beautiful.
>Your friend Jessie nudges you. “Anon, man. She’ll see you.” he warns. “You know what’s she’s like.”
>”She talked to me the other day.” You say quickly. “She gave me this thing.”
>He narrows his eyes. “Gizza look.” He says curiously, reaching for the key hanging from your neck.
>His hand passes right through it. There’s a moment of somewhat frightening silence.
>”That’s not good.” He concludes.
>You take turns flicking the key. You can touch it, Jessie can’t. How strange.
>Panic wells up inside you as you remember something. “It’s got a spell on it. I saw it through the magesight goggles my dad has at home.” You tell him. “Industrial grade. Not like the things you see in essential magic class. I guess that explains what it’s doing. I put it down to have a shower the other day, zoned out in there. Put my hand to my chest, it’s there. I knew I didn’t imagine it. It straight up teleported on to me. I can’t get rid of it.”
>He shakes his head. “She’s toying with you, man. She marked you. Stay out of her way.”
>You leave early that day. You head out of the back of the school, past the busses, hoping not to gain attention. It doesn’t work.
>A claw grabs onto your shoulder, painfully hard, as you try to walk out of the gate. “Anon.” She says softly, in a voice that demands your full attention. “You need to come with me.”
>You spin around and look at her. Strangely, the first thing you notice is that she’s shaking a little.
>”Saphira…” You say, equally shakily. “I found your, uh, name. It was in the yearbook.”
>”It’s rude to call a dragon by her true name…” She says very quietly, avoiding your eyes. Quickly, she collects herself; “Anon, I have to tell you something. Will you please come with me?”
>If this is one of her schemes, it’s the meanest one yet. But you take the bait. “I uh, don’t have anything on ton-“
>”G-ood, you’re coming.”
>She pulls you around the corner and into a very conveniently parked limosene with a very surprised looking kikimora in the driving seat. The journey is short, and you’re more bundled and strapped into your seat by her than getting into the car willingly. You steal a few glances over at her. She looks like she’s going over something in her head. She looks incredibly flushed, and anxious – then, for a moment, she gets this creepy smile.
>What the hell is going on? Are you going to die?
>”My lady-” A voice in front of us interrupts – “We are home.”
>”Ok good f-fantastic thank you Elise-” Saphira stammers, getting out and moving around the car. You wait for a moment, shrug, and follow her. As you enter, however, she stops.
>”Human, this is my home. Don’t you dare touch anything. I’d show you to mother and father but… well, mother is always busy and father is abroad. Anyway…” – you hear a door shut down the hallway and she swears loudly. “Shit! Upstairs!” She orders. “Come on!”
>You bet there are people waiting upstairs. That’s what this is. She’s set up a whole party to make a mug of you.
>”Saphira, this is too much!” You yell, as she pulls you up the stairs behind her.
>You try to pull her to a stop, but it doesn’t really work. Damn, she’s strong. “You need to explain to me what’s happening here!” You try.
>”Shut UP!” She yells back at you.
>She slams the door to what you hope is her room and pants for a moment, leaning against it as you look at her.
>There’s nobody here. Are you on camera?
>Maybe she’s actually going to make a confession.
>No, don’t be silly.
>Be on your guard. She’s a dragon. A horrible one.
>”Anyway,” She begins again, breathlessly. “Anyway.”
>”So I assume you’re in love with me.” You say. Yes, that’s right, Anon. Swing first and swing hard.
>She frezes up with panic. “Y-you?” She yelps, staring up at you. “Not a chance!”
>Something clinks gently as she flinches
>”You’re, um, stumbling over your words a lot more than usual, princess.”
>The dragon goes very quiet. “So are you.” She murmurs. “I, um, assume you want to know what’s going on.”
>”Who’s downstairs?” You ask.
>”It’s just a maid. They’re not allowed in here, I wasn’t actually going to, to do it in the uh, lobby…” She laughs nervously.
>”Okay, you’re talking too much.” She snaps. “Just be quiet for a while. I need to… tell you about something.”
>”M-My fetish.” She stammers.
>This is how you die
>Your heart is pounding.
>”Can you just get to the point?” You demand. “I feel like I’m about to have a stroke.”
>”Fine.” She mutters. “Just, come here. Next to me.”
>You slowly move closer to her, closer to the door.
>”Feel here.” She murmurs, gesturing to her waist.
>You feel something hard. It’s a solid band, and as you begin to follow it you realise it goes right around her hips. As you brush against her abs, your hand moves towards her toned ass, widening out underneath it-
>”Enough.” She growls, her hot breath burning your ear just a little and reminding you that she’s strong enough to tear you in half if she wanted to. “Now here.” She murmurs, gesturing to her crotch.
>”…are you sure?” you ask.
>”DO it!” She yells, whipping you with her tail. “Do as I tell you!”
>Wordlessly, you feel at her crotch, your eyes locked to hers and hers to yours. Through her dress, you again feel a solid barrier, covering her sex. She huffs at you suddenly, pushing you gently back as she turns away and lifts her dress up to show you what you’re meant to be more gently looking for.
>You have never seen so much gold in your life.
>The waistband is thick. It curves, snugly, against the nape of her ass, finding its unbreakable hold on her tiny little waist with only gentle curves that seem for all the world to have been forged and melded to match her own.
>Her ass, roughly bisected by the rear bar, fares a little better. It is not cruelly squeezed by the belt – it is instead allowed to flare out beneath, red and tender from lack of release. There’s an opening for her tail, which is raised angrily into the air, ready to swat at you if you decide the show you’re getting isn’t enough.
>As she turns back to face you, you see that the front of the belt is much wider. It covers the area between and above her long legs, decorated with all sorts of patterns and what you vaugely recognise as the draconic word for “abstenence” carved into the metal above a huge, sturdy looking lock. At her crotch, there is a grate. From it comes a sweet, feminine scent that causes you to stiffen all over. Including down there.
>You knew what this was. You had read about this. This was a chastity belt.
>”The gold is just plating…” She quickly explains. “It’s primarily dwarven steel, I… like to wear it. A lot. I have a very high sex drive, so I had it commissioned… just for myself. I once read a story about a princess in chastity, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It’s from one of the lesser known companies we own, a forge and magitech workshop that work with the armed forces and some other, very rich people. The key and belt are very special, being made for the company’s heiress and all. The key cannot be transferred from one person to another without explicit permission, and the belt is… well, indestructable. Nonmachinable. Unremovable, without the key. One of the only ones in the world that could hold out against a dragon so… well.”
>”I’m so sorry, Anon. I’ve jumped in at the deep end, I’ve made a mess of this. I made a mess of us. I could never… I COULD NEVER, manage to ask you out, and I could never manage to stay in the belt long enough to start enjoying it… The longest I’ve gone is a day and a half, and… I thought I could get two birds with one stone…”
>Your throat is dry at her speech. You try in vain to think of something to say, but can only ask the most obvious question – “You really can’t take it off?”
>She gives you a pained look and pointedly moved her claws to the belt. She scratches at it. Generally, a dragon’s extended claws could tear through metal like butter.
>Nothing. Not even a mark. She begins to trace her hands around it, making a point to show you that she can’t slip even a finger under any part of the belt, scratching at the crotch, then rubbing and caressing around it, a look of intense concentration on her face. Over and over her hands go, over her hips, over her ass, over the front shield with its tiny, sticky holes. As you realise you’re so busy watching her that you’ve forgotten to breathe, her claw balls into a fist and smacks against the front plate. She rattles at the lock, gripping the waistband with both her hands and wrenching at the thing as hard as she can, a growl of tortured frustration escaping from her lips as the belt creaks ever so slightly, but doesn’t budge at all. Indeed, no amount of prying and poking, no matter with what implement, seemes to reach the drenched, dripping jewel underneath it. And though it looks gentle, its curves mild, the raw tightness of its hold is breath-taking – the dragon’s shivers, tremors and gasps and she scratches and claws at its secure shielding making it apparent that the belt, with all its tightness, would likely explode off her body; were it not for the lock. You realise you’re still not breathing.
>”Saphira.” You say, trying to ignore the tent that has appeared in your pants. She doesn’t hear you. Is she enjoying herself? “Saphira!”
>”I can’t think straight.” She growls, panting. “I need to cum so badly. It resonates gently when I move, it’s been teasing me all day. Just give me the key, we shouldn’t talk any more. I know this is really strange. I… Can you forget about what I said? Anon?”
>You caught yourself off guard. It’s not like you to question an already irritable dragon. In her home. In her bedroom. Where absolotely nobody can hear you scream. You look at how meek she looks. How adorable she is, how beautiful she is. You remember her speech, about how angry at herself she feels, how she could never talk to you, and yet she just admitted, no strings attached, that she has fallen… For you. It’s her. It’s her that keeps the other girls away. She rejected and ridiculed your friends… for you. She’s always showing off, for you.
>You intensely want to give her her key and leave. But there’s another voice in the back of your mind that shouts loud enough to change your mind.
>If you give her her key, will you ever see her again?
>She has no friends, does she?
>”Why what?” She hisses. “Why sh-“
>”You said 30 days, didn’t you?”
>”Yes, yes-!” She half-screams. “But that’s-“
>You stop her. You take both of her hands in yours.
>It’s time to commit. You can do this. You know what this woman wants. You’re Anon, the normal schoolboy turned dragon slayer. You can do this.
>You lean close to her leathery little ear, not letting go of her hands as you coax the shivers from her naked body with yours.
>”Then we have 27 left to go, don’t we?” you whisper.
>She’s still for a moment.
>You’ve never seen an entire room do a backflip before.
>Ok, that’s going to cause a bruise. You’re on her bed now, but before you can even respond, she’s on top of you, fist raised. “NO.” She growls. “I WANT IT OFF. I NEED IT OFF! NOW!”
>”You’re not being very nice.” You say to her. “Am I allowed to add on time?”
>She pins you down and starts grabbing at the key. “Give it to me!” She yells. “I won’t hesitate to actually hurt you, Anon!”
>”Meaning the opposite. You really can’t get it unless I give it to you?” You ask.
>”Anon.” She hisses. “I don’t consent-“
>A dragon is lecturing you about consent. “Didn’t you consent,” You say, knitting your fingers with hers, “When you basically threw that key at me and told me to keep it for 30 days? No matter what?”
>”I didn’t say even if I ask!”
>”I think you implied it. I think you knew very well you would lose your resolve very quickly.”
>You can’t help yourself. She’s too cute. Her anger has just stopped scaring you. Maybe the amount of adrenaline this whole situation has put through you has overloaded your brain. She stops wrestling with you to wriggle about on the bed, prying at the metal over her crotch with her hands. She turns away from you and curls up, panting gently. “Anon, I’m so desperate.” She whines after a moment. “Please.”
>Now you feel a little cruel.
>No, this is just another tactic.
>You’ve seen so many in the last two minutes.
>This dragon has gone through 5 stages of greif trying to get her key back off you, and she’s not slowing down.
>”You just spent ages lecturing me about how much you enjoy locking yourself up and how you desperately want to go further. I wondered why people were avoiding me. This has been so long coming. Did you think I wouldn’t accept you? Did you think I couldn’t accept this?”
>”Anon…” She whines, cuddling closer to you. “I can’t take it. I know how good it’ll feel later on, but I can’t take this! I’ve never been locked up this tight for this long. I’ve never had someone hold my key who won’t give it back…”
>”Twenty days.” You murmur to her. “How is that?”
>She’s quiet for a moment. “Fifteen.” She whispers.
>”Done. One week, six days to go.”
>There’s a calmed silence as she buries her head under your chin. “Anon.” She whispers eventually.
>”Can you tease me? M-My body, I mean. Please.”
>”Aren’t you already incredibly pent up as it is? You won’t cum.”
>She says nothing. Then, “T-Tease me.”
>You’re trying to remember what you read about dragons’ erogenous zones. The most important one you can’t touch, of course, but for someone with your knowledge…
>You reach around her, finding her tail, which thrashes a little before you manage to pin it down. Saphira is panting, her claws caressing and rubbing at the metal plate over her crotch as your fingers find the underside of her tail and begin a gentle caress.
>”Ok, you can- y-y-you stop now! Stooop!”
>Up and down it you go, rubbing it more and more quickly as Saphira begins to moan and pant underneath you. Your other hand clutches at her round ass, and, unsatisfied with the lack of notable response (besides a few gasps that tell you you remembered at least something correctly), moves to her breast as her body begins to move with yours.
>”I… I demand you… YOU… Haaaahann! Stop!” She yelps. “L-let me go th-this instaaAAA!”
>One of her hands gives up its assault on the chastity belt for the moment, and finds a new target. You feel your fly unzip, your button undone too as your pants and underwear are removed. The two of you find your rythm then, as you begin to tumble over one another, each of you trying to maintain your grip on the other’s sensitive places while trying to break theirs on your own. She’s panting and moaning desperately underneath you, and you hear her rattle the lock again. That’s enough to send you over the edge. You orgasm hard, her hand tightening on you as the bed is stained with your seed. Upon noticing the smell, she goes into a frenzy, twisting herself away from you and attacking the belt; her hands first conspiring, like spies, to sneak around the fortress of the front shield and gain access to the watery treasure within through speed and persistence alone, and then, as she leaps up and begins to twist in front of the mirror, fluttering like light blinded bugs against the deeply secure and well tightened belt. Every conceivable gap is pushed at, pried at, and, eventually, pounded at, but each individual attempt leads to the same result for her now dripping sex – failure. You almost come again just from watching her.
>”Anon…” She pleads.
>”You can do this.” You tell her, as she collapses onto her bed.
>As you lie there in silence, the door opens. You freeze, unmoving, as a prescence enters that you can only describe as truly terrifying.
>”Oh, Saphira.” a mature, feminine voice drawls. “Rape is wrong, you know.”
>The door closes