On most nights, the city’s center is as quiet as most other parts of the city. This night was not like most nights.

Once a year, the citizens of the city of Bulwark gather together for a festival that starts at dawn and runs well past dusk. Every man, woman, and child gather together to join in celebration. In remembrance. So, what kind of occasion would warrant a festival with such abundant food, guests, and events? The festival of New Day.

“Attention! Attention dear citizens!” Came a voice so practiced at announcing he had no problem speaking above all the chatter and noise. “Young and old. Man and woman. Why even the spirits, should they be inclined to join us tonight! May I please have the attention of all?” Agreeably, the people turned their attention to the grand stage. At its center was a man dressed in a manner promising flash and drama. “Yes, yes, please come this way, come this way. Make sure everyone can see! Good? Good. Then, let us begin the ending of the festival, with a story about the beginning of us!” The announcer, and soon to be narrator, moved out of center stage, making room for the actors.

Out came five actors, men and women. They were dressed in shabby clothes and were dirty from head to toe. While the citizens of the city didn’t always dress perfectly, nor were they always spotless, they all looked better than the actors. Or rather, the looked better than the people the actors represented.

“Long ago, over 500 years ago in fact, we did not live where we do today.” The narrator spoke in a grim, ominous voice. Every sentence built upon the despair of the last. “There were no lush forests. There were no vast plains. There were no babbling brooks, refreshing waterfalls, or running rivers. Centuries ago, we lived in the vast desert; the Sea of Death!” Unseen, backstage workers used various means of producing the sounds of howling, uncaring, winds.

“Life was hard for us. Rains were as rare as a moment of happiness, so water was scarce. Almost no plant life grew, save for the most bitter, foul, unpleasant things you could imagine! Even the beasts of the land struggled to survive, so game was hard to find.” Despite having heard the story many times before, during the festival and from their own ancestors, the people were captivated by the performance.

“However, there was a threat worse than that of deathly thirst.” One of the actors began to clutch at their throat, looking to the sky for rainfall. “There was a threat worse than that of deathly hunger.” Another actor hugged their stomach and looked to the ground for food. “There was…the millennium worms!” With his grand announcement, from the back of the audience, came an elaborate costume/puppet.

The audience began to part, gasping as the amazing work of craftsmanship moved through them. A scale model of the aforementioned creature. It had a wooden skeleton to give it shape. It had paper and colored ribbons to act as skin. It used a dozen different actors to move and operate the recreation of the terrible beast. The worm slithered its way on 24 feet toward the stage.

“Millennium worms are terrible, merciless beasts that swim through the desert sands like water. Millennium worms had only one reliable food source: us!” The children in the audience gasped. The worm opened its maw, filled with many glinting fake teeth. The first actor peered up into the mouth and gasped, recoiling back as the worm slammed its head down upon them. The actors inside grabbed the on-stage actor and carried him further into the “stomach,” where he would walk along with the rest of them. As the narrator continued, the worm would gobble up the other actors one by one.

“These terrible creatures would rise up out of the sands without a moment’s notice and consume entire homesteads whole! Somehow, it gets worse. For it was inside the worm’s belly that it got its name. Through a cruel design, the worm was able to feed off a living creature for over 1,000 years! Day after day you would be digested, and healed, digested, and healed. Over and over for what seemed like an eternity!” In truth, a human would likely only live for about 150-200 years inside the worm, though that was still longer than the average lifespan. Still a long time to be digested, all the same. The children in the audience were very scared now, but they had their parents to comfort them. Their parents hugged them and assured that they should keep watching.

“It seemed that all hope was lost…” The worm came to approach the final actor, who was scooting back in fear, allowing the worm to be centered on the stage. “Until she came!” From behind the stage a great fire was lit. It created a huge surge of light, a light which illuminated a woman standing behind the screen behind the stage. The effect was a towering shadow of a proud warrior woman to appear. The worm stopped and looked up at the intimidating shadow.

“Our prayers had been answered! With a swing of her mighty battle axe…” the narrator continued, pausing to give time for the actress to pull out the prop weapon and swing toward the worm, “…she cut the millennium worm in half!” From inside the worm, a few of the actors pulled on some ropes that caused the paper skin to tear and the costume to separate in half. “She did this to every single worm that she could find!”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically, but the story was not over. The narrator reminded them of this by holding up his hand. “With the worms defeated, the towering titan led us out of the desert…” The actors who had be swallowed by the worm crawled their way out and began to follow the woman’s shadow off stage, looking happier than ever. “She led us to our promise land. Our new home. There, in the green fields, she constructed high walls made of stone to protect us!” The audience looked up at those same walls that were shielding them now. “She even constructed a castle inside the mountain we rest at the foot of!” The narrator swung his arm toward the castle, leading everyone to look at the impossibly large castle of their savior.

“And so, we honor that day, the day we were saved. The day we began a new history, a new life. A New Day!” The audience erupted into unanimous cheering. Many had heard the tale before, but none at the festival had grown tired of hearing it. Then, above all their applause, came a rhythmic clapping that drowned it all out.

“Well said. Very well said,” came a powerful, feminine, dominating, alluring voice. The people stopped in their revelry and turned to its source to hear more. “Though, you did forget one little detail.” Over the crowd came the imposing sight of a big, beautiful, blue woman. Her breasts hung perilously overhead, threatening to slip out of her revealing fur top at a moment’s notice. Her stomach stretched above them, showing off the vast expanse of her amazingly muscled stomach. The ever-present ice crystals on her skin caused it to shimmer even in the dim lighting of the evening.

The back half of the worm costume was snatched up. As soon as it was, the actors in the other half scrambled out as soon as they could. The giant woman sat back in her relaxed position. She laid on her side, resting one arm against the roof of a building, testing its construction. Inside the costume, the actors had all fallen toward the back, but the giantess’s cupped hand prevented anyone from tearing through and escaping. All they could do was look up at the pleasing visage of the beautiful, but voracious woman and panic.

“After I defeated the millennium worms, I ate their insides.” The half was turned over toward her face as she tilted her head back. Three of the actors immediately fell out and into her mouth. They were no bigger than her index finger, so it was a tight squeeze, but she managed. The remaining hung onto the wooden beams inside the costume, unable to look away as she manipulated the trio of actors in her mouth. One by one they were savored and swallowed.

Once those three were sent to her belly, she reached in and plucked two more, one at a time, and gently slid them along her tongue. With just one in her mouth at a time, she allowed herself more time to savor them. The smacking and licking of her lips were heard by everyone at the festival. More than anyone, it was heard by the morsels in her mouth. They were even privy to the faintest of moans bouncing through her mouth. Worse yet, they could hear their fellow actors’ screams echoing back up her throat.

She attempted to pull out the last one with her fingers, but the actress was hanging on tightly to a cross section of beams. Smirking, as she loved as much fight as possible in her meals, the blue woman brought the costume toward her mouth. Her light blue tongue slithered into the worm the same way the worm had slithered onto the stage. At first, she was gentle. She was teasing. Flicking playfully at the terrified woman. Tasting her. Unable to wait any longer, she slid her tongue between the woman’s torso and the beams and curled the tip back, prying her loose.

Though she was carried without delay into the giantess’s mouth, she managed to stay outside the lips for a moment. Halfway outside, anyway. Her arms flailed in panic, then began to press against the plush indigo-blue lips to push herself free. It was no use. Already the tongue was dexterously pulling off her pants and feeling around against her bare legs and sex. The actress had no idea the giantess would do something so perverse, but she had heard stories. As nice as it felt, she never forgot what awaited her. Unable to free herself by her own power, she called down to the people watching.

“Help me! Please! Don’t let her do this, you can’t! Someone, anyone, just…just get me out of he-“ Slurp! Mid-plea she was sucked fully into the azure woman’s mouth. A few savoring lip smacks later, and the final actress descended just like all her other actor friends. Just like all the giantess’s food.

Throughout the entire ordeal, everyone watched. What else could they do? It was a morbid sight, but a fascinating one, no matter how common it was for them. To see a human being tossed into the mouth of a being who looked human herself, aside from her skin and hair color, to be savored and enjoyed. They all watched as the distinct bulges slid down her slender, strong, throat. From there, they were sightless as to what happened next, but they could all guess. After disappearing behind the giantess’s generous breasts, they would be squeezed into her cauldron of a belly. They didn’t like to think about any else beyond that.

“Ah…ah yes!” The narrator stumbled, trying to pull everyone’s attention to something less gruesome. Trying to speak over the sounds of her satisfied moans and gurgling stomach. “W-who would have thought that a woman born of…born of ice,” he said, trying to remember the script he memorized and had recited every year for decades, “would deign to visit a land of fire and rescue us? Truly, our salvation was a miracle! And now, our salvation is OUR QUEEN!” The final words were said with rediscovered vigor and passion. The people fell into the wave of excitement he created and began to cheer again. Afterwards, the music and laughter resumed. Good thing too, as it blocked out the sound of the actors, who only moments prior had entertained them, screaming inside, and banging against, her stomach. The ice giantess lovingly stroked her stomach as she watched her citizens enjoy the rest of the night.

It was true, an ice giantess was the ruler of a city of humans. It was also true that she routinely ate her subjects. Casually, and without a second thought. Most said that it would be an honor to serve as food to their queen. To become the fuel for her life. To become the fat on her curves. To become the strength of her muscles. To become the glimmer in her eye. That’s what most said, but few believed that. That was evident by all the screaming her morsels did when chosen.

Nevertheless, everyone agreed that living under a protective, though voracious, ruler was preferable to living elsewhere in the world. A world that was somehow even more dangerous. More voracious.

A world that was still hungry for them.

The knight stepped carefully, but unwaveringly, through the dripping dank of the justifiably feared cave. His body clad in armor, his heart clad in purpose, his soul clad in grace. He had trained for this. He was born for this. There could be only two outcomes. Either he would slay the beast, freeing the land of its terror, and return home victorious and praised. Or, he would be yet another body on the monster’s amassed pile of death. No, he thought, there is only one outcome. I will succeed! I must…

His torch lit only the immediate area around himself. The cave was massive, large enough to accommodate his prey’s size. The flickering illumination couldn’t reach from wall to the other or touch the ceiling in the wide and tall tunnel. As he approached the main chamber, more light would guide him. Green, ominous, light, yet clearly born of flame. Sorcery, he thought. He hadn’t planned for that. He knew the monster was sentient, but he didn’t imagine it could be wise enough to study magic. Nevertheless, he refused to turn back.

Courageously, or foolishly, he entered the end of the cave, which opened to somehow be even larger than the tunnel he’d traveled. It housed more floating candles than he could count, each flickering gently with a verdant flame. Tapestries hung from the unseen roof, and an array of carpets decorated the floor. Then there were the riches.

All along the perimeter were piles and mountains of gold, gems, and lost treasures. An entire academy could spend a lifetime cataloging it all. He felt his oath of poverty tested as he calculated every hardship in his life being undone by each glittering coin and reflective jewel. Yet he wasn’t there for material gain. He had come for the gain of divine fulfillment. Steeling himself, he stared straight down the grandiose hall and toward the biggest mountain of riches yet. There, sitting upon it, with furs and silks of various origins draped over the riches for comfort, was his quarry: the dragon.

“Dragon!” He bellowed confidently, not an ounce of fear or doubt in his voice. It was of vital importance to never show doubt in the face of a demon, but it held no less value when facing down the rare and terrifying dragon. “I have come to slay…” He wavered. “You?” When he had arrived, the dragon had cloaked itself in its wings, covering it head to toe and obscuring its true form. When the knight submitted his challenge, the wings pulled back, stretching wide from one wall to the next, and revealing the beast within.

She was beautiful, there could be no doubt. Even despite her draconic features, she was more humanoid than lizard. Without the scales and claws, and dizzying size of course, she would have looked as stunning and regal as a queen. Sharp features adorned her face. High cheek bones and sharp jaw. Thin eyebrows arched almost into a V above her glaring, focused eyes. Even the pupils, green of course, had a sharpness due to the reptilian shape of her irises.

The bridge of her nose careened down her face at a steep angle, ending at her nose with flaring nostrils. Cleanly painted lips, venomous green, tapered so strictly to the corners that they betrayed the fullness of her tiers. As a corner pulled up in a sneer, the closed rows of her teeth previewed the shape and sharpness of her fangs. Despite all the dangerous edges to her features, there was a softness, too. Especially when she gave up on her initial, vicious, reaction to him and let her face relax into a bored, disinterested state.

Abundant. In a word to describe her breasts, they were abundant. Weighty globes that sat high on her chest. Perky as they were, even a dragon couldn’t fight the laws of gravity forever. The sag was minimal, however, and all it accomplished was demonstrate their heft. Nipples were puffy and inward facing. Despite years of inactivity, her stomach still looked smooth, flat, and inviting – dangerously so – with an acceptable layer of fat obscuring abdominal muscles. It was harder to judge her hips, and impossible her ass, given her slumping, seated, position, but he could tell they were at least wide. A shamelessly displayed pair of puffy labia rested comfortably between the pale thighs of her spread legs. All in all, she would have been a stunningly beautiful woman, were she human, he thought. It was the draconic features, and again her height, that gave him reason to doubt his libido.

Her most perverted, in its deviation from normal human standards, was her “hair.” Though it had the clear shape of voluminous, luscious hair, framing her face and resting against her shoulders, a “bang” or two fallen in front of her face, her “hair” was not hair. They appeared as thin tendrils, covered in the same shimmering green scales other areas of her body had. Just beneath the “hair line” sprouted two thick horns, with golden bands, that curved outward and then back, ending at fine points she had decorated with golden caps.

Though her arms and legs were mostly human in shape, they ended in lizard fashions. Her fingers gradually became more draconic as they went, ending in claws that could separate a man’s torso from his hips in a single swipe. Her feet, similarly, began human enough but ended with monstrous claws that clicked against the stone floor as she tapped her foot impatiently.

Along her arms and legs were the heaviest collections of her scales. The scales, showing off the wide, gradient, array of different shades of green (some he’d never seen before), mostly covered the sides of her arms and legs facing away from her body. Densely packed, they covered any skin that might be under them, until they reached the shoulders. At the shoulders the scales began to lessen and taper off into a dusting of smaller and smaller scales, like freckles, disappearing completely at the base of her neck.

The most telling feature of her monstrous ancestry, other than the wings, was her tail. Though he couldn’t see where it began, it seemed to likely sprout from above her ass (which he could only imagine how that looked). It started wide and imposing, but slowly grew thinner and thinner as it reached the tip. Like her horns, she had decorated it with golden, often bejeweled, bands. Like her feet, the tip of the tail tapped against the ground, curled by her feet, impatiently.

“What…” he began, pausing to find the words to express his confusion. “What are you?” It would have to suffice.

“I am as you say,” she answered without delay. “A dragon. Though I go by, as well as you could pronounce, Verda.” Her voice reminded of him wine, and he wasn’t sure why. Full bodied, like her full body, and rich. Flavorful with mysterious hints he couldn’t place due to an unrefined palette. When she spoke, her eyes darted elsewhere. She slumped forward, clearly bored and disinterested and more concerned with comfort in the face of a challenger. Her chin rested in her palm as her elbow rested on her knee.

“You look as no dragon I have ever seen,” the knight reasoned, doubting her claims

“You’ve seen many dragons, then?” the dragon woman challenged, finally swinging her emeralds back to stare into him.

“I have studied your kind for years at the academy!” he boasted.

“That would be a ‘no’, then,” the dragon scoffed. Verda stretched, raising her arms straight above her head and twisting her torso before she got comfortable. The yawn she let out carried from her chambers all the way to the entrance of the cave. Seated more comfortably, she crossed her arms under her chest, propping her breasts up some. “I know you may find it hard to believe, but your scholars and historians know very little about dragons. They likely just filled in the gaps of their knowledge with lies and assumptions, so they wouldn’t look so foolish.”

The knight sneered at her disregard of the many great works of wisdom, and pursuits of knowledge, of humanity. “I care not what form you take, dragon! Your tempting shape will not quiver the hand that holds my blade!” He announced, pointing said blade, shiny and unchipped, at her.

“I cannot change forms,” Verda said, addressing what was likely another misconception. “So, this ‘tempting shape,’ as you so rightfully call it, is not for your benefit.” Clawed hands scaled down her every curve from her breasts to her thighs. She did so love the feeling of her hands on her skin, though she wished more for someone else’s hands on her skin. “I’m sure I already know the answer, but why don’t you tell me why you’ve come here.”

“I have come to slay the beast that terrorizes the innocent lives of the good people of the countryside!” The knight said, as if it were a line he memorized in preparation of the encounter.

“Then I assume I am the terrorizing beast?” Verda gave a deep sigh. “Could the Dawn Above not, for once, send me a human with some originality?”

“Speak not of the Dawn, foul beast!” the knight spat, cursing the sound of the divine heavens spoken with her wicked tongue. “You and your kind know only the Dusk Below from which you crawled forth, and to which I shall return you!”

“Honestly, are you here to prattle on about scripture or are you here to slay me? Get on with it!” she challenged, which he readily accepted. The knight let out a heralding cry and began his advance, holding his sword forward as if it were a spear. A stance she couldn’t help but smirk at. Before he could get close enough to give the first strike, Verda collected the saliva in her mouth together and spat it directly at the knight.

Splat!

The knight was knocked back by the wet impact, dropping his sword as he flew several feet back. The spit was heavy, heavier than water at least, but not so much he couldn’t stand. He shook his head to remove some of the spit, though his hair and exposed skin remained damp.The rest covered his entire armored body. Then the armor started to sizzle..

Quicker than he had time to make sense of it, the dragon’s saliva had begun to eat away at his armor. The plates and links melted away and dripped into a puddle at his feet. The metal hadn’t become hot, no more than the warm temperature of her mouth, and yet it had melted before his eyes. The knight was left only in his undershirt and pants, losing much of what identified him as a knight.

“What is this?” was all he could think to ask as the last of his white and gold armor dripped off his arms onto the carpet.

“A point proven,” Verda said. “Now you see you stand no chance against me. Centuries of adaptation and evolution have afforded me the traits and skills to make consuming hard-shelled humans like yourself an easy task.”

He didn’t understand all those words, but ‘consuming’ stood out. He knew the possibility of being eaten alive was present when facing a dragon. In his world, the possibility was present when encountering any monster that stood more than a head taller than a human. For her, though, it would be easy. Easier than he had anticipated.  The knight, without looking like a knight anymore, refused to give up. He saw his sword several feet away, untouched by her vile spit. As if time was of the essence, he leaped forward to grab his sword, rolling as he did and finishing on one knee – pointing his weapon defiantly at her.

“You have proven nothing, dragon! I will defeat you!”

“To what end, human? To what end?” Verda stressed and sighed, annoyed that her point hadn’t sent him running. “Do you want my gold?” She asked, throwing her arms wide to gesture to treasures he couldn’t spend in 100 lifetimes. “Take it! Carry as much as you can and start a new, happier life. Do you want glory?” Verda pinched a large scale off her arm and pulled it off with a wince. The hard, green scale was tossed in front of the knight. “Take it! Display it in the town square and declare you have slain me!” The scale looked almost too big for him to carry, so it would certainly gain him prestige.

“Take whatever you desire,” Verda vastly offered, “but do not deny the greatest gift I can offer you: mercy. I am giving you the opportunity to leave this cave, alive, and not empty handed. Do not wager your life for glory because you will be left wanting.”

“I care not for gold,” the knight said in defiance, never letting his sword dip an inch. “I care not for glory. I fight for honor and justice!” Verda rolled her eyes. “I have come to slay you and put an end to the misery you have caused the people of these lands.”

“The misery I’ve caused?” Verda said, offended and annoyed, pressing her hand against her chest. “I have done nothing but sit here for centuries, tending to my studies and wishing for nothing except peace and quiet! Yet am I afforded this? No!” Her answer bellowed throughout the cave, breaking the knight from his firm stance.

“You…you eat the flesh of man! You are a monster!” the knight reasoned.

“Oh? Then are you a monster to the cows? To the wheat? Will you gladly lower your head should the pigs decide to revolt? I cannot help what my body needs no more than you can help yours. Would that I could sustain myself on a less annoying, and judgmental, food source,” she mused. “So, is that it? Hunger? That is my crime? Yes, I ‘eat the flesh of man,’ as you say. Yet I never seek it out. I don’t have to,” Verda revealed. “The dangers of my cave are no secret. I’m sure they are talked about to ward away children and fools. But greed and glory guide you more than your common sense! Despite the promise of death, I have thieves, explorers, and knights come into my cave. Who am I to refuse food when it’s offered? Would you turn down bread as it was handed to you? Would you spit out an apple that fell from a tree on your lap?” she rhetorically asked. “I have done what I can to minimize my interactions with you humans,” she venomously said, “but your kind is insistent on being eaten!”

The knight found it difficult to find fault in her logic, yet his pride and quest for glory begged him to. “Just as my prey would fight against my hunting bow, I too will fight against your need to consume! Mankind, unlike other creatures, exists to walk the Golden Path, but we cannot do that with voracious beasts like you in the world! So enough talk, have at you!” With his final words announced, the knight took off running again, charging for her tail.

“Very well,” Verda said amongst a sigh. After she let him make a few fruitless strikes against tail, that same tailed curled around him and began to lift him up. He was traded between her tail and claws, which pinched at his shirt to lift him. The knight continued swinging at the air as he was carried the rest of the way.

“You have spurned all my requests,” Verda reminded him as he hung helplessly before her gaze. Her breath enveloped him, causing him to squint. It was humid yet covered him like a warm blanket. “However, I hope you will grant me this final favor.” He could think of no favor he would offer her, but he had no choice but to listen to her booming voice. “Please, while you’re in there, will you struggle for me? It’s one of the few enjoyments I get out of this.” Giving him no time to accept or decline, Verda swung him from his shirt onto her tongue.

 Verda kept her mouth wide open, so the dim light of the candles could illuminate her mouth for him. She wanted the gravity of his situation to fall on him completely. Her tongue twitched instinctively as he struggled to gain footing. Left and right, forward and back, he fell all over her slimy muscle. When finally, he got his bearings and could direct himself to the opening, he carelessly leaped toward it. The dragon had encountered all manner of escape attempts from her mouth, some successful but most not, and knew exactly when to slam her lips shut around him.

The knight was held halfway outside her mouth. With his shirt having come off in the tussle with her tongue, he felt her warm, pillowy, lips seal around his torso. In the capture, the knight had lost his grip on his sword, seeing it fall, bounce off her left breast, and land in her open palm. Considering he could just barely fit into the palm of her hand, his sword looked so small in it.

While sandwiched between her moist tiers, the exhale of air from her nostrils tickling his neck and feeling oddly good on his wet back, Verda worked on removing his pants. Her tongue skillfully pulled away at the cloth and leather. She wasn’t going to bother giving him any kind of intentional oral pleasure with her tongue, as a final farewell, as she had in the past with her food. Though unintended, and as much as he tried to deny it, the knight did enjoy the feeling of her warm and knowing tongue tenderly undressing him.

The only reaction he could make in time was a shocked face when he was slurped in. A second later, his pants were spat out. His prison door opened again, and his sword was tossed in after him. The knight was quick to grab the blade and, before the light could be taken away again, he thrust the blade straight and true at the roof of her mouth. As the sword made contact, it collapsed due to the malleable state it had gained. The saliva had begun melting his sword, removing it as a threat. It wouldn’t have been able to pierce her, anyway. It was a weak sword, more decorative and inspirational than effective. With his last hope gone, the mouth closed.

The knight was sloshed around inside her mouth, thrown against either cheek several times, and pinned between the roof and her discerning tongue. As the knight had lost hope, so too did the dragon. He tastes just like all the others, she thought. Verda had grown used to the local flavor. Her meals had become nothing but necessity rather than something to be enjoyed. Verda threw her cheek down against her palm and rested her elbow against her knee. A disappointed groan surrounded the knight in her mouth. Giving up on finding flavor, she wasted no more time and swallowed.

His experience in her mouth was intense. The splash and flood of saliva that coated and threatened to drown him. The cuts and gashes he gained when he was pushed past her fangs and against her cheeks. Being rolled by her tongue against the bumpy roof felt like he was being scrubbed against a washing board. The pressure, when she sucked on him, was the hardest to endure, as he’d never felt anything like it. He assumed her spit would melt him, as it had his armor and weapon. He realized the dragon’s saliva only affected metal, to remove the ‘hard shell’ she mentioned. Finally, she swallowed. In his disoriented and blind state, he offered no resistance in time to stop himself from being squeezed into her throat.

Verda meanwhile tried to enjoy the feeling of swallowing him. While one hand cupped her breast, finger and thumb grazing her aereola to rouse her nipple, the other traced a single claw along his path. Knowing the process well, she was able to keep her finger at the exact pace of the swallow, leading it down her body.

Down her throat he sank, squeezed down with every gulp until finally he started gliding down smoothly. The lump disappeared, Verda kept scraping her claw against her pale skin. Past the collarbone had dreamed of kissing. Past her breasts he had dreamed of squeezing. Finally, into her stomach he had feared of entering. The worst of those fantasies had come true, for him. A clawed hand was kept over her stomach as the dragon waited for him to start struggling.

A dragon’s stomach was larger, relative to her size, than most creature’s. It was meant to house many squirming humans and was even able to stretch out to accommodate more and more. However, it had only one occupant that day, so the knight would have his run of the pitch black and gurgling organ. He could find no means of sight, so he felt around against her spongy, wet, walls. He pushed and pushed but found no means of escape. All he could find was a shallow pool of acids that would eventually digest him. Despite the dread, he fought to remain calm.

Verda’s expression grew more disappointed, and then angry, by the second. “By the Spheres! Even your struggles are boring!” The frustrated dragon shook her body around, trying to force the knight to panic and give her something to work with. She missed the days when she could get aroused by the feeling of a human fighting desperately in vain inside her bubbling cauldron. Sadly, not only had the local humans’ flavor become familiar to her, but so had their struggles.

Nearly defeated, she crossed her arms under her pendulous tits and considered her options. Twisting her lips, Verda decided she had had enough. Violently she stood from her mountain of gold, sending a light avalanche of riches down onto the rugs. The determined dragon woman began to collect her most valuable things. Scrolls, ingredients, and artifacts rarer and older than herself. She took what she could fit into a large, to a human, satchel made from the leather of many, many, cows. Verda slung the strap over her shoulder, letting it run diagonally down, between her proud mountains, and end at the bag that rested against her wide hip.

“Why must I settle only for the local cuisine? These humans,” she said to herself, referring to those of the nearby kingdom, “all taste the same, now. They even struggle the same. I must travel out in search of new lands. New humans. Humans with different diets and lifestyles that affect their flavor.” Verda’s mouth began to salivate. “Humans with different beliefs and knowledge of my kind that will affect how they struggle, valiantly or desperately, inside my stomach.” Verda’s privates began to moisten. “And other places,” she added as she sunk her fingers into her plump and juicy backside, pulling aside a cheek to expose her wanting anus.

With newfound purpose, made her way out of the cave. Before she left, she turned back toward the room that had been her home for centuries. With a magical wave of her hand, all the floating, lit, candles were flung to the carpets, rugs, furs, and tapestries. Flames began to engulf anything not made of metal or stone. Verda smirked at her selfish destruction of the wealth she was to leave behind.

Outside the cave, Verda squinted up at the sun. Eyes adjusted, her wings spread wide and dominating. Her lift off sounded a thunderous boom that alerted all the nearby humans that the dragon had taken flight.

Verda traveled far from her kingdom in search of new lands. On her travels she came across many different villages, and at each one she sampled the local flavors. The further they were from her old home, the more unique the humans tasted. The dragon woman slurped them up one by one, or sometimes handfuls at a time. With every new village her belly grew fatter and happier. Her meals digested while she rested on their destroyed homes, and by the time the sun rose her stomach was back to its trim self.

She was even regaining the sexual thrill she got from consuming humans. As they twitched and screamed within her stomach, Verda felt the need to pleasure herself in front of the remaining humans. Some were even used for something other than food. Humans were dangled from her erect nipples and crushed between her breasts. They were sat on and smeared against the ground while she rocked her hips. Others still were lost inside of her boiling hot pussy and impossibly tight ass. She was thrilled her travels were proving so successful, but she wanted more.

One day, she came upon a small fishing village. It was smaller than most of the other settlements she had found, but she decided she could stop for a snack before continuing. Verda landed in the middle of the market, shaking the homes and blowing over market stalls. The humans peered up her body as her scales glimmered in the noon sun. As she smiled down at them, implying a kind of compassion, her tail snatched up her first victim.

The human and the tail’s tip disappeared into her mouth. “Oh my,” she said after her tail slipped out. The flavor was immediate and thrilling. “Such a unique and exotic flavor!” Verda cooed with her snack pocketed in her cheek. After the swallow, the dragon shivered with arousal as the terrified human beat against her muscles and eventually stomach walls. Her knees buckled as she drooled with lust. “Such a dance he’s making inside me! Have I somehow flown to the Dawn Above? Such divine flavors, that must be the only explanation.” While the humans could possibly feel good about her compliments, they knew all too well what it meant.

Verda tried not to let a single human escape, but a handful still did. She couldn’t help it. She was so focused on each person’s flavor that she neglected those who knew to run away, rather than just into their homes. Most, as usual, disappeared into her gullet and landed into the squirming bag of her stomach. Others, as usual, were crushed or drowned inside her tight, dripping, passages between her legs. Though she had planned to stop for only a break, Verda was so immensely satisfied, in more ways than one, she passed out in the middle of the village. As she rested, her tail would still snatch up stragglers who peered out of their hiding spots and drop them into her mouth.

She was having such a restful sleep, that she thought it a shame it should be interrupted so rudely. Pushing herself up, Verda scanned the distance for the source of the sound. “Is that thunder?” she asked herself. “No, that’s too…steady…and growing closer?” There was an obvious explanation, but it was one Verda struggled to come to terms with. Yet it remained the only option left; she had no choice but to accept it. “Are those footsteps?”

They were.

The day before, the air was crisp and cool. The day after next would similarly have a coolness to it. The day nestled between the two would be different, however. It was warm. Electric, even. The energy in the streets was palpable, and it was clear to see why. The traders had been told the Queen was coming to restock her castle with new goods, and they all came out in force to be included.

The Trader’s Net was for the collection of neatly intersecting streets that were lined with stalls and stores, as well as its knack of ensnaring customers. On any given day, it was a lively bustle of activity and commerce. When it was announced the Queen would come to inspect the wares, it was overflowing with life. The normally present stalls were beset by fresh-faced sellers. People who had a secret family recipe, or pride in their stitching, or just anything they could produce for the Queen and her servants showed up – even if they’d never sold anything in their life before. To be chosen by the Queen to supply her castle with their goods was to have their lineage set up for luxury for generations to come.

Everyone pushed and shoved to eagerly hold up the finest example of their goods to the Queen as she walked along the street’s center. Enthusiastic as they were, they knew never to get reckless and risk being stepped on. To die in service to the Queen’s hungers, be it for food or pleasure, was considered a great honor. To die underfoot brought the Queen no enjoyment and brought the victim no honor.

Glowing blue eyes cut through the crowds, hoping the Trader’s Net would ensnare her with something of interest. Suddenly, they came upon an unassuming stall. Rickety and old. It was in desperate need of repair, and it was being manned by a desperate looking man. Standing among the stalls surrounding barrels was a young woman. A beauty that stood out among the desperation and failure of her surroundings. She wasn’t necessarily what the Queen had come down to browse, but she was never one to deny what her body craved.

The sun-kissed woman felt her body jump with each of the Queen’s approaching footfalls. She felt her heart leap, too. She had never seen the Queen so close before. The only other time was during the festival, years ago. But that time she was further away, and the night moon did not cause the imperceptible ice crystals on her blue skin to shimmer as they were now. Her mind couldn’t fathom that the Queen was approaching her specifically; not the lowly peasant girl. It wasn’t until her giant sapphires locked onto her that she believed in what she thought impossible.

Squatting, causing her brown leather, with white fur trim, loin cloth to pile up on the street between her sandaled feet, the Queen looked closer at the bait that had attracted her. She had beautiful skin for whom she figured was a daughter to manual labor. Dark freckles dusted across her nose and shoulders, almost disappearing against the tan of her skin. Chestnut brown haired, tied in a bun, matched the colors of her big, curious, eyes. Such sweetly thin, but cute, lips stretched wide in a big smile, displaying her still-white teeth. The modest expansion against her dress suggest modest, but suitable, breasts. As the wind blew, the sundress pulled against her frame, teasing her alluring frame further.

“What is your name?” The Queen asked. Her voice was intense, though not just in its volume – and even that was modestly held back for the sake of her subjects. There was a clear confidence and command in her tone. Though not a harsh command; more of a loving one. Such as from a firm but fair parent. She knew her presence, as well as her voice, could easily intimidate. So, she made sure the pull her plump, dark blue, lips into a warming smile.

“Emily, my Queen,” Emily replied shakily. The giantess’s tone conveyed she wasn’t in any kind of trouble, so she felt no nervousness for some crime she had unknowingly committed. Nervousness was not gone in its entirety, however. Though the great sapphires that studied her felt oddly warm, from a frost giant especially, the ones of the man at her feet were anything but. The old, well dressed, man’s glare reminded her she should be bowing.

“Emily,” The Queen repeated, seeing how ‘Emily’ felt on her tongue. “A sweet name, for a sweet girl,” regarded the Queen. The blush on her cheeks threatened to hide away those freckles the Queen so enjoyed. “What are in the barrels, Emily?”

“Berry milk!” answered a gruff, enthusiastic, and assuredly not Emily’s voice. The desperate man she had spotted earlier pushed and squeezed he way through the crowd of people to stand by Emily. “It’s berry milk, my Queen.” His thick, hairy, arm swung around Emily to rest its hand on her far shoulder and pull her into his shorter build, standing by her side proudly.

“And what is ‘berry milk,’ Emily?” The Queen inquired further, making it clear she wanted to hear Emily speak, not whomever had just butted in.

“It’s not so much a ‘milk,’ my Queen,” Emily shyly explained. The Queen had dealt with quiet spoken humans for centuries. It wasn’t that she could necessarily read lips, but she knew what muffled sounds referred to which words, along with other context clues to help her. It wasn’t fool proof, but it saved her time in having to constantly remind them to speak up. “It’s more of a cream. It’s made of wild berries and honey. Oh! And cream, of course,” Emily giggled, causing the Queen to smile more warmly.

“My daughter, Emily here,” the man interjected again, proudly squeezing his daughter, “found the berries. She even came up with the recipe. I’m so proud of her!” The clear pride in his daughter caused the Queen to once again forgive his rudeness.

“May I?” The Queen asked, pointing to one of the barrels. There was no reason she had to ask. Whatever she wanted, she could take. She often did, in regards to her subjects themselves. However, she was not beyond basic manners when needed.

“Of course, my Queen! Of course! Take as many as you like!” the father replied.

That’s exactly what she did – though all she wanted was just one barrel. At the moment. Pinched between her finger and thumb, the Queen held it over her mouth. Suddenly, the barrel was crushed under the applied pressure. Like a plump, juicy, grape she had squashed it and forced the insides to pour into her mouth. After painting her tongue white, the thick blue lips closed so she could savor the flavor. And savor she did. Emily and her father didn’t need to hear a word to know she enjoyed it. They knew just based on the moan she let out.

“So, Emily has shown you were these wild berries grow?” the Queen asked before sucking her fingers clean of leftover cream. It was clear the cream was delicious, but there were a few more things she needed to know before deciding if it should stock her castle.

“She has, my Queen, she has!” the father answered. “I pick them with her, in fact, and then I mix the ingredients together.”

“I see,” she regarded, her intentions and thoughts unclear. She went to grab a few more things from the stall. One barrel, two barrel, one Emily. The two containers and the very shocked young woman were plucked from the street and deposited into the Queen’s other hand.

“Daddy!” Emily called out from between the giant blue fingers. Her arms reached out through what amounted to prison bars.

“I’m very proud of you, Emily!” her father yelled back, the confidence clearly wavering in his voice.

Emily’s attention was stolen from her father as she felt her leg being pulled on. The Queen was yanking her back to sit center in her palm. The first sight she saw as she turned were not those caring blue eyes that had caught her minutes ago. What she saw was the Queen’s mouth. Her lips were full and soft, much like her other assets. Smirking lips were parted softly, gradually, in the middle. A wet tongue emerged and curved upward to begin coating her upper lip in saliva. The same was applied to the bottom tier. Emily managed to pull her horrified gaze from the moistening lips and looked up at the Queen’s eyes. She was hoping to see compassion, something to assure her what she thought was going to happen – wasn’t. Instead she just saw hunger. The same hunger she had spotted moments before the Queen approached her stall. She realized only too late what she was hungry for.

Before proceeding, the Queen grabbed at the hem of the loose-fitting sundress and effortlessly pulled it up over Emily’s head. The discarded fabric floated down gently toward her father. She couldn’t help but smirk at the young woman crossing her arm over her chest and squeezing her thighs together to protect her modesty. As if that’s what you should be concerned about right now, she thought. While watching the newly nude woman, the Queen grabbed one of the barrels next to her. Like before, the container was crushed easily between her pinching fingers, letting loose a cascade of sweet white.

Brown eyes went wide at the sight of the blue maw opening wide. She had never seen inside the Queen’s mouth before, of course. She had heard stories about how it was a comforting, soft, sight. Like a warm bed waiting to welcome you after a long day’s work. Yet in that moment, all she could feel was it was the last place she wanted to be. The giantesses tongue twitched and bucked as the cool cream coated it. Emily regarded it the same way she would a giant, living, creature. Unpredictable and immensely dangerous.

Another barrel plucked, pinched between her fingers. Rather than crushing it right away, she just held it. Waiting. Her palm then held only Emily. Her palm then tilted toward the Queen’s open mouth. The edge of her hand was pressed against her chin. Her head tilted back slightly, so give Emily an easier time falling into her mouth. Not that she would appreciate that, the Queen was certain.

She could have found a lot to grab onto as she slid toward the mouth. The Queen’s hands were rich in places to grab, though it would have only delayed things. Emily had poor survival instincts, however, and didn’t think to grab onto anything as she slid. If she had good survival instincts, she would have ran the second the giant woman, whom she knew to eat people, approached her. A harsh lesson to learn, but one learned too late.

Emily at least did not go immediately in. Instead her feet stopped her against the lips. Either foot pressed against either lip. She was halting gravity from doing all the work of sending her to her doom. If that was all that was stopping her from being eaten, she may have lived. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. Snaking up from between her lips was the cream-coated tongue. Up between her bare legs it approached, grazing against her smooth thighs. Emily interrupted her pleading and sobbing to squeak in surprise when the tip grazed against her exposed sex. She had never experienced any kind of intimate pleasure before. She was old enough to breed, by the city’s laws, but only just so. The sudden attention given to her lonely pussy caused her knees to go weak, and her stance to break. All too easily she fell into the Queen’s mouth.

The young woman had been told the same stories all children were. The Queen never ate children, but they knew she did eat people, and naturally they questioned it. So, stories were told to them, including Emily, about how wonderful it was inside the Queen’s mouth. It was soft and warm, like a big hug. It was wet, sure, but refreshingly so. It was also dark, there was no denying that, but nothing bad lived in the darkness of the Queen’s mouth, so there was no reason to be afraid. It was described as a place the kids couldn’t wait to be old enough to experience. Emily then knew it was a lie.

It was soft, sure, though not like a bed of pillows. There was a firmness to everything, just a yielding one. It was primarily the tongue that felt the softest, but it was also the tongue she felt most terrified of. It was also warm, but not like a hug. It was an oppressive humidity, making it hard for her to focus on getting out. She had figured the inside of a frost giant’s mouth would be cool, like the weather that day should have been. Like any other mouth, it was warm from the body’s internal temperatures.

There was also little room for her. Enough, much to her dismay, but she didn’t have an inch to herself. As soon as she had hit the creamy tongue, her naked body splashed with spit and cream, the mouth closed. The tongue pressed up against the roof of the mouth, dragging Emily back and forth against its ridges. Truly, it was wet, but not refreshing. Her saliva was not like mountain spring water, it was like her own saliva – thicker than water and certainly warm. The addition of the cream helped cool things a little, but the cream was being quickly sucked off her squirming body.

The darkness, too, was a lie. Not just in the fact that nothing dangerous would happen to you, but in the darkness itself. There was a light. A soft blue glow reaching up from down the ice giantess’s throat. It was much, but it illuminated things a bit for Emily. She wished it hadn’t. Seeing it all, being able to see the hard teeth and the soft tongue made it only too real. If it was pitch black, like it should have been, maybe she could have imagined she was somewhere else. There was no denying where she was.

As if that light glow wasn’t enough, the light of the sun poured in as the lips parted. Emily was hopeful. Perhaps the Queen was just seeing how the cream tasted on her subjects. A test to see if she could get as much use as possible out of her recipe. Once the test was done, the Queen would spit her back out, apologize, and redress her in some finer clothes. It was true, that was the test. Any fantasy beyond that would be shattered, though.

Emily scrambled toward the light, meekly dragging herself along the bumpy tongue. Her hand managed to make it to her teeth; a hard surface she could really pull herself toward. Then she saw the barrel. For a third time the Queen crushed the barrel and let the insides pour into her mouth. Pour onto Emily. Before she had just been slightly coated by it, thanks to the giant tongue. Now she was undeniably soaked in the recipe she had created. The recipe that had doomed her. Before she could collect herself and try to escape again, the lips closed and the tongue pulled her back.

The Queen, unlike Emily, was enjoying herself. Her satisfied moans could be heard all throughout the Trader’s Net. It was like a chime to tell the other sellers that the Queen had chosen a new good for her castle. It gave everyone hope they would be next. It gave Emily’s father no joy. Years ago, during the festival, he had lost his wife to the Queen. Devastated, he put on a brave face for his remaining family and did what any good citizen did – lived in denial. However, back then, he hadn’t actually witnessed his beloved wife get devoured by his beloved Queen. Now he was given a front row seat to seeing his kin stripped of her clothes and dignity and then sucked into the greedy maw of the monster. Just as before, he acted like a good citizen and pure on a brave, though clearly weakened, face. As the Queen smacked her lips, her mouth opening briefly each time, he heard the stop and start of his daughter’s anguished pleas for mercy. Her pleas for him to save her.

His throat had gone dry and the words he wanted to yell were halted. The fear wouldn’t permit him to risk his life for a lost cause. Yet a father’s love was great and could defeat any fear. Before he could yell his displeasure with the events, the Queen swallowed. Swallowed with a deep and trembling moan. The father watched the shape of his daughter slide down the Queen’s slender blue throat. She would give another few tongue-caresses of her lips and suckles of her wet fingers before she spoke.

“Delicious,” she complimented, indifferent to the life she had taken. “Simply delicious. MOS,” The Queen called, referring to the elderly man at her feet, “I want this for the castle. Provide him with two dozen men to expand his production. I will need much of this cream.” Then her eyes swung back toward the trembling man who had fallen to his knees. “Thank you.”

Just as she was about to stand, she heard the rapid clanking of armor. One of her guardsmen had run to her, having had to fight against the throngs of traders and onlookers. “My Queen! We’ve been attacked!” She lifted a curious brow to his claim. Though she had certainly been focused on finding new products for the castle, she knew she would have seen an attack as it occurred on her city.

“Where?” The Queen inquired.

“The fishing village, to the Sun’s Wake!” he panted. His arm carried toward the direction he’d claimed, drawing the Queen’s eyes to the horizon. Not every one of her subjects lived within the city’s walls. Some inhabited small villages scattered outside. They lived dangerous lives, not being within the wall’s protection. However, she had strived to make her presence known to all the creatures who may try and attack her villages.

“Who attacks us?” she wondered aloud, expecting an answer.

“A great beast, my Queen!” His answer was vague and unsatisfactory.

“What kind of beast?” she pressed. If she was going to defend her people, she wanted to know what she was up against. Especially if it a was a ‘great’ anything.

“I…The villagers that fled here…they say it was…” He was clearly searching for the words, trying to make sense of what he had been told. “They say it was…a dragon.” The Queen’s eyes went wide.

“A dragon?” MOS, the stern looking man at her feet interjected. “Madness! Dragons are rarer than a blind moon. They’ve never even been seen in these lands!” He was clearly annoyed at the guard’s apparent mistake, at best, and lie at worst. “My Queen,” he said, turning back toward his beloved giant, blue, ruler. “This man is clearly mistaken. Let me go with the most trusted of your guards and investigate myself. I shall dispel this nonsense.”

“There’s no time,” she sternly put. “If it is as he claims, then I must act now. I trust you can handle things here,” she said, referring to the acquisition of Berry Milk. Before MOS could feebly try to persuade her otherwise, the Queen stood back upright to her towering height and sprinted toward the castle. The sudden and intense footfalls caused many to fall over, though luckily none were trampled.

Throughout the entire exchange, the father hadn’t moved an inch. He stayed knelt, staring off into space. It was a look MOS had seen many times before. They have such a hard time accepting the glory of serving the Queen, he thought. “Sir, be proud,” he said to the father after stepping into his line of sight. “The Queen has deemed both the fruits of your labor and the fruit of your loins to be satisfactory,” he reasoned. “Let your pride swell, as your riches surely will.” MOS helped the broken father to his feet. He didn’t need him to be happily, necessarily, just functional enough to serve the castle further. “Now, tell me. Did Emily have any sisters?”

The Queen arrived swiftly to her castle, knocking over yet more people in the streets and in her halls. She was normally quite careful with her steps, as she knew the quakes they could cause. However, she had no time for such niceties. She needed to prepare. Within her chambers she undressed from her leather and furs. Within her chambers she dressed in her finest armor, as the foe she’d face was greater than most.

A corset, reaching from just above her navel to just above her nipples, made of millennium worm scales. The scales were either black or purple, depending on how the light hit them. More importantly, they were incredibly durable, resisting most attacks. It was only through the Ever-Ice blades of her battle axe that she was able to cut into, and skin, them. A matching skirt and pair of greaves were quickly pulled up as well. Finally, she grabbed that same Ever-Ice battle axe she had used to slay the worms whose hides she wore. Ready for the fight, she sprinted out of the castle and toward Sun’s Wake.

//////////

The people cheered as their valiant, giant, beautiful warrior queen leaped from her castle and skidded down the side of the mountain in her battle regalia. They knew not what monster or army she was going to fight, but they were certain she would return victorious. A fair assumption to make, given her record. As the Queen strode valiantly across the plains toward the fishing village, eager to protect her citizens, one of those citizens was inside her stomach.

While the huge blue globes bounced in the snug confines of her corset, Emily bounced in the snug confines of her stomach. She had been given little time to settle before the Queen took off running. Thankfully, and given her situation any small miracle should be appreciated, the Queen could keep an even, steady, stride. Emily, thus, was not being thrown about the stomach wildly.

The betrayed woman sat at the bottom of the giantess’s stomach. There was not much else beside her in the stomach. Some of the cream that had doomed her, of course. There was also some bits of other foods the Queen had sampled but found wanting. Mostly what occupied the stomach were her acids. Glowing blue acids. It was that pool of surreal digestive fluid that had given the back of Queen’s throat the glow. As it had illuminated the mouth, terrifying Emily, it too illuminated the stomach.

Emily kicked and punched at the wrinkly walls in vain, splashing the juices around and coating herself further. It didn’t matter, she had become drenched as soon as she slid into the gut. She couldn’t believe what a fool she had been. Believing all those years that her Queen was a just and kind woman. Sure, she ate people, but it was a small price to pay for living under her protection. Emily could hardly appreciate the ‘protection’ in her situation. She hadn’t the faculties to consider that dying to the worms of old would be likely be worse than her current fate. However, she could confirm that at least with the worms she wouldn’t have felt betrayed.

The betrayed woman sulked in her confines, already feeling the acids begin warming her skin. She had felt like such a fool for believing for some many years that it would be an honor to die as he was about to. She had heard of friends and friends of friends winding up in the Queen’s belly, and she felt envy. Emily now hated herself for that. She should have grieved. She should have gotten angry. They all should have gotten angry. Instead they let it all happen. Just like all the people at the Trader’s Net, her father included, let it happen.

More than anything, she felt like a fool for believing her mother had died honorably. It had happened that same night she first saw the Queen. She was just a child. Emily had followed her mother into the city to see the festival. Her father was too exhausted to take her, and her mother had to work serving drinks. Emily was unable to find her mother, until the Queen did. With her eyes so transfixed to the wonderous and beautiful woman, Emily caught the sight of the Queen plucking up her mother. And then so much more.

Emily’s mother, Amelia, was a tavern wench. She served drinks while the patrons pinched her ass and threw coins into her abundant cleavage. Amelia hadn’t been happy about it, but she got to keep the coins, at least. During the festival, her job was no different. From table to table she swapped out empty mugs for full ones. From table to table they tried to grope her and pull her into her laps. She was too experienced to fall for their obvious traps, though. She couldn’t possibly have predicted the one to get the biggest pinch in was the Queen.

In the middle of serving a table, two blue fingers pressed against her waist and lifted. Amelia instinctively flailed, which would have only served to make her fall from a dangerous height. The Queen didn’t even regard Amelia with her eyes. They were too focused on the festivities that put a smile on her face. Amelia watched her juicy lips purse and relaxed, over and over. She was sucking on something. And then a swallow. She prayed it wasn’t what she thought it was. Because if it was, she was next.

She was.

Much to her surprise, the Queen grabbed the hem of Amelia’s dress. Then she let go of her waist. Amelia dropped a short distance but was saved by the tightness of her corset. She had dropped enough to let her dress go up over her head, exposing her from the hips down. Amelia could no longer see what was happening, but she could feel it. A pair of giant, warm, lips closed in around her legs and began to suck on her. Hard.

Meanwhile, Emily watched happily. Her mom had been chosen by the Queen! She was so excited. Emily had been old enough to heard enough of the propaganda to truly believe what she witnessed was a good thing. She cheered for her mother from the crowd. The Queen had her dress lifted up over her head and was gently sucking her further and further out of it – fighting against the corset.

Amelia screamed and begged, trying to fight back the intense pressure on her body, and the inevitable end. Eventually, the dress came off, only to be casually tossed aside. Amelia hung part way out of the Queen’s mouth. Her pendulous breasts knocked into the blue lips as she was sucked further in. Her body became warmer and warmer as she was taken from the chill night air and into the warm mouth. Had she the option, she would have happily run naked through the cold streets with everyone watching. Despite her protests, both physical and verbal, Amelia was eventually lost inside the frost giantess’s mouth.

Just like her daughter would be years later, Amelia the barmaid was tossed around the mouth while the Queen sucked what flavor she could off of her. Unlike her daughter, she wouldn’t spend much time in the mouth. Soon after entering, she felt her foot slide into that waiting tunnel past the tongue. Instinctively the Queen began to swallow. Before Amelia was lost forever, the Queen’s lips opened in laughter. Amelia saw the next person to be swallowed. Helplessly she cried out for their aid before she was gulped down like all the ones before and after her.

Also unlike her daughter, she wouldn’t have the stomach to herself. It was crowded with people at various stages of digestion. Even louder than all the sobbing and screaming were the sounds of Queen’s body. The gurgles, thumps, breaths, and moans were the background noise of their demise. As Amelia thought of the family she was going to leave behind, the next victim fell into her lap.

Like her mother before her, Emily would die inside her Queen’s stomach. Splashing around in the stomach acids that promised to eat away at her body, and who knows what else. She couldn’t even die in peace thanks to the Queen’s running. “I hope you trip and fall on a rock, you bitch!” Emily screamed, punching the stomach again.

While Emily digested, the Queen was coming up the fishing village. Its shape was hard to make out, as it seemed to be lying down, but the Queen suspected the villager had been right. They were attacked by a dragon. It would be no small feat for her to conquer a dragon. Dragons were not only strong, but unpredictable. Some were completely bestial, looking as giant lizards with wings. Others had a more humanoid shape. They weren’t as dangerous physically, but they were more unpredictable. Some would be just as brutish as their bestial cousins. Others knew magic. It was that fact that gave the Queen difficulty in her plan.

It doesn’t look bestial, she thought. Humanoid for sure. Damn. The Queen continued her approach as she formulated her plan. Can’t know for sure if it knows magic. Can’t take the risk and assume it doesn’t. I’ll need to be fast, not give it a chance to cast anything. It can probably hear me approaching already. Damn! I wish I had eaten more. I’ll need the energy.

Blue eyes spotted the dragon stirring. It’s waking up! Her speed increased. She couldn’t let it have a moment to react to her approach. Yet already she could see the dragon turn its head in her direction. Any element of surprise was gone. The Queen prepared herself for one-on-one combat with one of the most ancient and dangerous beings in all the spheres.

The Queen would have some surprise on her side as she rapidly approached Verda. Namely, Verda had never actually seen a frost giant before. What’s more, she wouldn’t have expected to see one, if ever, outside of a blizzard. On a mountain. The current conditions were anything but. Still, she was giant in size, relative to most, her skin was blue, and her hair was white. Verda felt comfortable making that educated guess based on what little was known about them. What was most pressing, however, was the fact that she was charging toward Verda, and she figured it wasn’t because the giant was eager to show off her axe for her.

In truth, Verda had no idea why a frost giant would be charging at her with murderous intent. Nor did it matter, to her. The life of a dragon meant being constantly hunted. So, Verda, like most dragons, was used to it. She was even bored by it. Although she’d never been challenged by someone that matched her height. That was interesting. Still, Verda felt no threat charging her way. Unlike a human, she wouldn’t be able to just ignore a frost giant, however. The verdant dragon thus rose to her full stature, brushing the gore and lumber that littered her thighs and butt.

Verda crossed her arms under her heavy breasts. She looked more like an observer, rather than someone about to be attacked. Dragons were, after all, arrogant by nature. Being gigantic, powerful, and legendary would do that to a species. Verda couldn’t help but be surprised when suddenly the decidedly female frost giant leaped into the air.

“Well that’s unexpected,” she remarked to herself, moving her hands from under her chest to rest on her hips. Then another surprise came when the battle axe was thrust forward but did not leave her blue hands. Instead, the bladed head of the axe shot forward toward Verda. Were she just a degree more arrogant, she may have left herself completely defenseless and the axe would have hit. As it was, she tilted her body away from its path just in time.

“And that’s very unexpected,” Verda added. Her eyes ran from the axe that had cleaved into the ground and up along the ethereal blue chain that connected the blade to the hilt. Engrossed by the curious sight, Verda’s guard was down just enough for the Queen to make good on her attack.

A good warrior always plans two steps ahead, and the Queen was a great warrior. Pulling the icy blue chain taunt, the Queen yanked herself forward. Black-purple greaves pressed together as she straightened out her legs. Just as Verda realized there was something more pressing than the weapon’s chain, the Queen landed a double-footed kick directly against the dragon’s chest.

Verda was knocked back, but not out. She had enough dexterity to at least keep herself from being knocked on her ass. While recovering as quickly as she could, hoping to catch her breath before any more dire attacks were made, she saw the giant grab the chain and pull hard, freeing the blade from the ground. The magical links quickly disappeared back into the hilt and the battle axe was whole again. More importantly, the battle axe was being swung. This time, Verda would be ready.

The blue giantess acted quickly. Too quickly. She hadn’t properly figured the distance between her and the dragon. When she swung her axe toward her, the dragon was able to protect herself by merely holding up her forearms; holding them vertically together like a set of doors. The metal scraped against the scales. But it was no ordinary metal. It was Everice.

Displaying the well-known dragon arrogance, Verda peeked around her arms to smirk smugly at her attacker. Then she felt liquid. Warm, running slowly but steadily down her arms. A quick inspection confirmed that while the axe had hit, it wasn’t deflected by her scales. Verda’s arms were only saved by virtue of the Queen acting too brashly. Verda had never bled before, but she knew immediately what it was. Further evidence was the sight of her blood cleanly streaked across the cyan colored blades of the offending weapon.

The Queen was only able to make a single step forward before she was knocked back. With a mighty stroke of her wings, the dragon let out a powerful gust that pushed not only the Queen back, but also herself. The Queen’s feet slid against the ground, digging into the dirt. So did Verda’s, however she was more destructive, albeit unintentionally. Her bare foot slammed into a civilian, rolling over him almost instantly and leaving nothing by a smear. When her heel came down, it came down right on top of a paralyzed-with-fear fisherman. The only noise he had time to let out was the CRUNCH he made when Verda stepped on him.

“You’re unlike any of the frost giants I’ve read about,” Verda admitted. Her scrutinizing gaze ran up from the Queen’s greaves, along the exposed flesh of her sky-blue thighs, over the scaly kilt, past her cute belly button, lingered on her breasts – heaving with every heavy breath - and finally stopped on her face. She looks cute when she’s angry.

“For example, you’re quite beautiful,” she couldn’t help but flirt. She’d only seen artists’ interpretations of giants in her texts, and they were never as flattering as the Queen was. “And you seem somewhat intelligent. Somewhat.” The flirtation had been involuntary, so she recovered her sense of superiority by insulting the Queen. Though only a little.

“Funny,” the Queen smirked, calming her focused rage for a bit of banter, “you’re exactly like the dragons I’ve read about. Arrogant, and close to extinction.” She could have met her flirtations with her own attraction to the dragon’s voluptuous form, but she refused to show weakness. Though the distance between them was greater, the Queen still insisted on charging toward the dragon. She still had no idea if Verda knew magic or not, but she did know that the best way to defeat a magic user was to close the distance. Sometimes.

Verda was ready for her, however. Having regained some of that dragon smugness, she let the giantess get just close enough. When she was, Verda expertly used her tail to sweep the Queen off her feet, forcing her to fall backwards.

The Queen fell back, landing on her ass. Beneath it was the crushed remains of a merchant who had tried to flee during the commotion. As the shadow loomed overhead, the last thing he saw was his queen’s royal backside come crashing down. He had dreamed of meeting the Queen one day. The stories of her beauty and allure were known to everyone. All that remained of him was the crushed remains underneath her beautiful and alluring ass.

She was given no time to recover. As soon as she reached for her dropped axe, Verda snatched it up with her tail and flung it away. As soon as she moved to lunge at her, Verda knocked her back with her foot. The Queen lay back on the dirt, pinned there by Verda’s foot as the dragon stood over her. As before, Verda confidently crossed her arms under her tits, pushing them up in an unconscious insult to the Queen’s slightly smaller pair.

“If you’ve read about dragons, then you know that if you hope to defeat one, you better make the first blow the killing blow.” Verda leaned in, baring her stark white teeth behind her smiling green lips. “Because you won’t get a second.” Neither woman was interested in arguing that the Queen had delivered more than one attack, just none were successful. The point remained, however. The Queen had missed her opportunity to slay the dragon, and now the dragon had the upper hand.

“I did read that,” the blue giantess admitted. “I also read that the tail is where dragons are most sensitive!” Suddenly, the Queen thrusted her hips up and quickly wrapped her legs around Verda’s tail, near the base. In the sudden movement, and the unexpected stimulation that came after, Verda failed to defend herself. The Queen twisted her own body and knocked Verda off her feet.

Verda landed perpendicular to the Queen. While the frost giant had fallen backwards, Verda fell face first. This fact was most important to the butcher who had just woken up after being knocked unconscious from the destruction. The largest pair of breasts he’d ever seen came hurtling toward him. Though they were beautifully shaped, and deliciously abundant, he was more concerned about them crushing him. Unable to scramble away in time, Verda’s chest landed directly on top of him.

Though the weight was incredible, and some bones were broken, the softness of Verda’s tits spared the butcher’s life. However, when the Queen suddenly pressed her knee onto Verda’s back, the added pressure crushed the man under the right breast. The Queen didn’t want to waste any seconds going for her axe. She was perfectly fine with killing the dragon with her bare hands, if need be. Those same hands gripped either of Verda’s wings at the base and prepared to yank them clean off.

The dragon couldn’t let that happen. With a quick incantation and tracing of patterns in the air with her finger, Verda proved to the Queen that she did in fact know magic. It was a simple spell – it had to be given her time constraints – but it would get the job done. When she felt the Queen’s hands leave her wings, she knew it had worked.

Verda stood, knocking the Queen off her back as she did. More house and human remains were brushed off her body, particularly the splotch of blood on her tit. When she turned, she saw that while the Queen had risen back onto her knees, she remained bound. The spell had pinned her arms to her sides with translucent purple rings. Verda cursed herself for her combative performance so far. She was rusty.

The Queen also cursed herself for being rusty. The dragon was still alive.

“Oh, don’t bother, they’re magic,” Verda advised, seeing the giantess trying to break free of the mystical restraints. “You can’t brute force your way out of them.” Despite her advice, the Queen didn’t stop trying. Verda rolled her green eyes, but figured the giantess was free to make all the stupid mistakes she wanted. Hadn’t stopped her so far.

“I have to ask: what are you doing so far from home?” Verda had been wondering many things about the frost giant since she arrived. Now that she had forced her to stop attacking, she felt comfortable in taking the time to ask.

“I could ask you the same thing,” the Queen spat between grunts.

“Yes,” Verda conceded, “but you’re the one who’s all tied up.” The dragon’s foot raised and planted itself on the Queen’s shoulder, humiliating her. The tantalizing sight of her exposed crotch in the giantess’s face was a bonus. “So, I think you should be the one to answer.”

“I’m here because you have been eating my subjects.” The Queen wasn’t interested in answering questions for any reason other than to keep the dragon talking.

“Subjects?” The concept confused Verda. Not the idea of subjects in general, but the idea of a giantess having subjects. She wasn’t aware the race even had a concept of governing bodies outside of tribal leadership. What’s more, she couldn’t recall eating any giants, at any point. The one thing I’ve been eating is…” Wait? Do you mean your subjects are these…humans?”

While keeping her eyes on the frost giant, the tip of Verda’s tail wrapped itself around a cowering woman. The screaming woman was lifted, settling between Verda’s and the Queen’s sight. Though the giantess gave her no verbal confirmation, Verda had all the proof she needed. The increased struggling and furrowed brow upon seeing the human at the dragon’s mercy confirmed it.

“A giantess? Lording over humans?” She didn’t know whether to be amused or shocked. Unable to decide, she opted to ignore both and shrugged. “In that case, my compliments.” Verda gave a curt, mocking bow. “These humans are the most delicious humans I’ve had in…ever!” For a moment, Verda thought it might be too cruel to consume the supposed citizen of the giantess’s in front of her. However, she wasn’t lying when she said they were the most delicious humans she’d ever had. And she did cut my arms, Verda reasoned.

The human woman struggled helplessly in the binding of the tail. She screamed for aid from her queen, despite the fact that she too was bound against her will. Gradually she was being brought toward the salivating dragon’s mouth. She always though a dragon’s mouth would be filled with rows and rows of fangs behind a lipless snarl, parting to let out a snaked tongue and breath so hot it could melt steel. That’s not what she saw at all.

Verda’s mouth, she couldn’t help but think, reminded her of the mouth of her girlfriend. Two plump lips, looking so soft she could sleep on them. Two rows, just like a human, of immaculate white teeth. Her tongue was pink and soft looking, albeit covered in saliva. Saliva that connected the roof to the tongue with thinning strands. However, where her girlfriend’s mouth had brought her years of pleasure, the dragon’s maw would undoubtedly bring her final moments of terror.

To the predator’s and prey’s surprise, a startling noise erupted. It sounded like lightning ‘snapping.’ The Queen had broken the magical bindings. The azure giantess took advantage of Verda’s stunned expression and stood upright. One hand closed around the human, and the other closed into a fist before it was delivered straight to Verda’s shocked face.

“Impossible…” The dragon sat up, staring at the increasingly bewildering frost giant. She didn’t even bother to wipe the blood from her nose. “What are you?”

“A queen,” she was all to happy to answer. The human in her open palm had been saved and began kissing her queen’s hand over and over, thanking her for the salvation. “And these…” the Queen took an unexpected pause. In the middle of her sentence, she flung the human into her mouth. She barely had time to scream before the thick blue lips closed behind her and she was swallowed. “…Are my humans.”

Verda was certainly confused. It was a foreign feeling for an ancient and learned creature like a magic-wielding dragon. Confusion gave way to terror when the Queen picked up her axe and raised it above her head. There was no way she could deflect that attack, so Verda opted for another defense.

“Wait, wait, wait! Please, don’t kill me!” It was a plea both women had heard many times before. It had never worked on either of them in the past. However, the Queen believed the situation was unique enough to merit mercy, if only temporarily. Verda had taken from her a great deal of her subjects. Their fight had destroyed much of the fishing village. However, Verda had also given her something as well. A fight. One that lasted more than a few moments, and one that wasn’t one-sided. It was enough to earn Verda a moment of consideration.

“Please…please…” Verda’s breath was rapid, her heart racing. The life of a dragon was one filled with challengers, but rarely was it one filled with fear. She would have figured it would take another dragon, or even a powerful demon, to best her. Yet now there was a frost giant standing over her and waiting impatiently. “I’m sorry I ate your huma- you’re subjects. It was…presumptuous of me to think they wouldn’t be under the protection of a…frost giant…” The sarcasm was quickly stowed when Verda saw it wasn’t making matters better for her.

“It’s just…I’ve been cooped up in a cave for hundreds of years. My food source had become stale, unlively, and dull. I had to see what else the world had to offer me, which is what brought me here.”

The Queen could relate; though she wouldn’t say so. Hoping she wouldn’t regret it later, and hoping for a second round should the need arise, the Queen relaxed her stance. The axe was lowered to rest against her shoulder while the other hand was offered to Verda.

“Really?” Verda pressed her luck. Taking her hand, and careful not to scratch her with her claws, Verda rose back onto her feet.

“Yes,” the Queen confirmed. “It’d be a crime to slay a dragon, with so few of you left. And you seem to be of a…” she paused to run her blue eyes up and down the dragon’s beautiful form, “…good quality.” She enjoyed the sight of the dragon, but she couldn’t let her gaze linger, nor could she let the dragon stay. “Now go. Leave my kingdom.”

With her very clear order delivered, the Queen turned toward looking for survivors. Rubble and debris were gently pushed aside as she hoped to find the few remaining humans alive. As those in hiding saw their queen rescuing those left over, they started to come out. One by one the humans were gently picked up and placed snugly into the blue cleavage. Her armor afforded no pockets, after all; and she enjoyed the sensation of having the humans squirming between her tits. During the search, the Queen turned and saw Verda still standing where she’d left her.

“What are you still doing here? I told you to leave,” the Queen clearly repeated her already clear order. She secretly hoped for another tussle with the creature, but not so soon.

“I…can’t,” Verda admitted, knowing what kind of reaction it may stir out of the giantess.

“And why not?” She was intrigued. Even so, she tightened her grip on her axe, reminding both women of the alternative option left on the table.

“Like I said, these humans are amazing,” Verda explained, trying not to completely gush. “I don’t know what you’re feeding them, or how you’re breeding them, but it’s working splendidly. There might be tastier humans out there…but I doubt it. I can’t just leave all this behind.” For Verda, it was like she had found a drug. The very notion of giving it up was met with intense resistance, even in the face of her demise. She tensed up as the Queen approached.

“Well you can’t stay here,” the Queen rejected. “There is a balance here.” Being the ruler and devourer of a group of people was hard. She had to ensure that there was a balance between how many she used, in one way or another, and the birth rate. Overpopulation would have an easy, and delicious, solution. Overeating was far harder to solve. “I can’t let a gullet-stuffing dragon start tipping the scales with her appetite.” To illustrate her point, the Queen tapped the back of her hand gently against Verda’s paunch.

Verda blushed. Holding her stomach, trying to hide the small bump where there used to be a flat expanse, she explained, “This is not usual for me. I was just…indulging.” The Queen’s face made it clear she still wasn’t convinced Verda wouldn’t be a problem. “But I understand your point.” Verda then had a stroke of a genius – common for a dragon, as most dragons say. “So, how about I bring more humans in?”

The Queen couldn’t help but be intrigued. Once more, she stayed her cold judgment while she heard the dragon explain herself.

“I passed many villages and kingdoms on my way here. I could bring you humans to replace any I eat. I would get to enjoy the delicious flavor of your subjects, and you would get to sample the flavors from beyond your kingdom. As mouth-watering as your subjects are, I’m sure you’re curious of the tastes outside your kingdom.” Verda had not only found a way to make her presence a non-issue, but also turned it into a benefit to the Queen.

As appealing as the offer was, the Queen still had reservations. “And how do I know you’re telling the truth?” She watched as Verda reached into the satchel that hung by her hip. I was wondering what was in there. There were a great many things, but the most relevant item was a tiny, squirming, human.

Blue and green eyes peered down at the (relatively) tiny creature being pinched between Verda’s clawed fingers. His skin color and clothes were entirely different from anyone in the Queen’s kingdom. The language he spoke was certainly not native to her kingdom, either; though she could safely guess what he was screaming.

“I took some with me, other than those in my belly, in case I went a long time without seeing another kingdom. Snacks for the journey,” Verda explained with a smirk. With the giantess clearly intrigued, Verda stepped forward slowly, but confidently. The human was held up for the Queen to inspect more closely. Specifically, so she could take in his scent. She does not look displeased, Verda happily thought. “So, do we have a deal?”

The Queen knew what should come next, though her subjects, bewildered by the turn of events, didn’t. Before she answered, she reached into her snug cleft between her breasts and pulled out a random, rescued, human. The one between the blue fingers did not squirm as much as the one between the green claws. That would change.

“Tentatively,” the Queen answered, “but yes. We have a deal.”

Verda would take it.

Without another word, the two monstrous women conducted a traditional exchanging of gifts. Verda offered her human to the Queen, who in turn offered hers to Verda. Neither were dropped in their hands, however. Instead, they both held up the fidgeting humans in front of the other’s mouth. With a growing synchronicity, they both opened their salivating mouths. Both tongues received a human. Though the foreigner’s screaming was unintelligible, the Queen’s subject’s words were loud and clear.

“My Queen? My Queen please! Don’t do this! Don’t feed me to this monster!” To be consumed by the Queen was an honorable experience, though none liked to admit the terror that came with it – none other than the ones who ended up in the mouth. To be consumed by another, however? The woman wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she knew it likely wasn’t the honorable death she’d have in her queen’s stomach. She felt a true sense of betrayal as she was given away by her beloved queen to the monster who had, just hours before, eaten her entire family.

Verda’s gift was also having a bad day.

Together Verda and the Queen closed their mouths and began to savor. Verda had sampled the humans of the land already, so it was not a new flavor. However, she didn’t enjoy it any less for that. The Queen, meanwhile, was experiencing an entirely new flavor – one she quite enjoyed. His thrashing, too, was different. More violent and persistent. His people were clearly not used to being consumed.

The shared satisfied moans of the giant women caused their eyes to flutter open. In that moment, it truly dawned on them that it was the first time either had seen someone else of their size in centuries. The fact that they both found the other to be extremely attractive made that fact twice as enjoyable. Neither were going to let the opportunity slip away.

While still sucking on their gifted humans, Verda and the Queen closed what little distance was between them. As soon as their breasts pressed against each other, their luscious mouths opened and accepted one another. The unwilling humans on the willing tongues saw the other approaching fast as the two giantesses merged their lips in a heated kiss.

Within the mouths it was a flurry of activity. Tongues which had not caressed another’s in far too many years made up for lost time. The muscles tasted and wrestled one another within the combined caves filled with shamelessly loud moans. Back and forth the humans were traded. Sometimes they knocked into one another, other times they were simply dragged across roofs and slid against teeth. No matter the situation, they were blind to it all and hated it all.

Outside the mouths, things were slightly less fervent, but no less passionate. Both women appreciated the body of the other, for their beauty and sexuality. However, they also moved as if the moment might be gone soon. As if it were a dream or temporary miracle – fit to be stripped away at a moment’s notice. So, they decided to make the most of it.

The Queen’s arms wrapped around Verda. She shivered at the sensation of her smooth but layered scales against her bare skin. Hands dipped south, passing the wings in favor of Verda’s humanoid feature, her ass, and her draconic feature, her tail. One hand massaged one of the cheeks, appreciating how plump the posterior was. The other cupped underneath the tail, near the base, and stroked – gently. Though the touch was soft and tickling, the sensation was intense for Verda. She melted into the frosty giantess.

Verda was also sure to appreciate her ally’s body. Claws could make it difficult to handle things delicately, but Verda had had more than enough time to learn how much pressure to apply and when. For example, when she dragged her claws across the Queen’s exposed back, near the base of her neck, Verda was careful to not apply enough pressure to puncture, while also applying enough to remind the Queen that she could. Given her increased moaning during the markless scrapes, Verda was confident the frost giant enjoyed it.

Like the Queen, Verda would send her hands on different missions. One took an innocent route. It combed into the Queen’s thick, white, hair. Lost in the threads, Verda’s hand cupped behind the head and kept her pinned to her mouth. The other hand took a naughty route. Since the blue woman first arrived, Verda had wanted to squeeze her blue breasts that were so eager to bust out of her tight, scaled, corset. She was still unable to accomplish that. The armor was too snug and wouldn’t allow Verda to cup her tit the way she wanted. So, instead, she tucked her claws in between the corset and the breast, taking in the sensation of her skin against her scales.

The “rescued” civilians were in no less danger than the humans being sucked on like candy. Trapped between the Queen’s breasts, the humans would have been fine, normally. However, because Verda was pressing herself up against the Queen, and the Queen returned in kind, the cleavage was becoming tighter and tighter.

“What is she doing?” one subject asked. “She was supposed to slay the dragon!”

“Why? Why would she do this after rescuing us?” Another wondered.

“My Queen, please! We can’t breathe!” A third struggled to say.

None of their words could be heard over the constant chorus of wet smacks and lips, along with the breathy, heated, moans. Not that they would be heeded if they were heard. The Queen made it her duty to protect her citizens. However, her pleasure always came first, even at the expense of their lives.

Suddenly, the Queen gripped Verda’s tail and squeezed lovingly. Verda, overcome with pleasure, pressed herself up against the Queen even more. In addition, she pressed on the Queen’s back, pulling her into an even tighter embrace. That was the last bit of pressure needed to squeeze the two giant blue globes together and crush the no-longer-rescued humans; one by one, with a series of pops and crunches.

No longer able to resist swallowing, the two women made sure there was just one human in each mouth and stopped the kiss. They stared at each other with hungry eyes and satisfied smiles. Verda swished her human in her mouth, to orient her snack properly, and then pushed her snack forward, revealing which human she had through puckered lips. They had chosen correctly in the last moments of the kiss – the human gifted to Verda was indeed the one squirming between her juicy green lips.

Seeing this, the Queen mimicked the gesture. Her human was harder to keep still; he struggled intensely between her luscious blue lips even after all that had transpired. The two victims looked at each other, and then the giant woman across from them. The man saw the terrible beast that had laid waste to his village and stolen him and others away. The woman saw her beloved queen, beloved no longer, who betrayed her and fed her to a terrifying dragon. Then there was darkness. Both humans were slurped back into the humid mouths. Without any more time given to savoring and tasting, they bucked their tongues and sent their gifts to their throats, where they were promptly swallowed. The women delighted in seeing their gift form a sliding lump in the other’s throat.

For a few moments, they just stared at each other, drinking in the situation that had developed beautifully. Verda took it upon herself to break the silence.

“Now that we’ve exchanged the Tokens of Sincerity,” she said, giving the act its formal name, despite their informal enacting of it, “how about we return to your…castle, I assume, and consummate the finalization of our mutually beneficial arrangement.” A very fancy way of saying what she wanted, but she figured it was appropriate given she was speaking to an apparent queen.

“Oh?” the Queen reacted, playing dumb. “I was thinking we would go back to my chambers and we fuck each other until we pass out.” She was a queen, certainly, but she made her own rules and spoke her own way. A way that Verda seemed to like.

Verda’s eyes flicked downward, as they had a habit of doing in presence of the busty giantess and noticed the added red coloring to her chest.

“Oh…” Verda said, not with grief for the loss of life, but with the disappointment from the loss of playthings and food. “Looks like we crushed your subjects.”

The Queen peered down to confirm. The reaction she returned with was a mere shrug.

“There’s more where they came from,” the Queen said with a wicked smirk that was soon mimicked by Verda.

The walk through Bulwark was a surreal one for Verda. Firstly, because it was a walk at all. All the cities she’s ever visited had been done from the sky, while raining down fire and snatching up humans. Younger days, she thought as she reminisced. Secondly, the humans weren’t running in a panic. Again: sky, fire, snatching. She wasn’t used to seeing a human who wasn’t either terrified of her or standing arrogantly in defiance, hoping to slay her in vain glory. Yet the humans of Bulwark were neither panicked nor arrogant. Maybe a little arrogant, she thought, considering they weren’t hiding from two giant women who used humans as a food source. In fact, the humans looked happy. Most were cheering, though that was for their returning champion and queen, the Queen (the only name the frost giant would go by, Verda learned, but she tolerated just ‘Queen’ from Verda). The rest just stared in awe at Verda, amazed to see a dragon.

However, she felt it went beyond her just being a dragon. She suspected they weren’t used to seeing giant monster women at all, beside their frost giant queen. They may not have even seen any monster women, regardless of size, she theorized. Verda figured it couldn’t have just been due to the walls that surrounded the city. The farms along the way also had humans who looked on in cheer and awe. The greatest defense the kingdom had was not the walls but was the giantess herself. A bizarre thought for Verda, but one that was rapidly becoming the only logical one. Verda had a lot of questions, dragons being curious by nature.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to parade me through the city like this?” Verda asked as the Queen walked ahead. The streets had been built to accommodate a giantess, but only one. Thus, Verda had to walk behind the leading frost giant.

“Why not?” The Queen barely moved her head to the side to answer, and never slowed her stride. She looked more focused on waving to her citizens and giving them warm smiles.

“Won’t they think it odd that their queen is returning with the very dragon she was sent to slay? After all, I did destroy your fishing village,” Verda elaborated. She felt no fear in bringing up her crime in front of the Queen. Verda had been told that, as punishment, she’d help the Queen rebuild the village, bigger and better than ever. She would also be repopulating it with humans from other villages outside the kingdom. Fishing villages, ideally.

“Humans will believe in whatever makes them most comfortable,” the Queen answered with a wisdom gained from centuries of rule, “even a falsehood.”

“And what will these humans believe?” Verda pressed. She was also curious as to what ‘falsehoods’ the Queen’s subjects believed.

“That I have conquered you,” she stated matter-of-factly. “That rather than kill you for the vast alchemical wealth your parts provide, I’ve decided to let you live and keep you for some purpose.”

Verda couldn’t argue against the ‘conquered’ part, begrudgingly. “And what purpose will they believe you’ve kept me?”

The Queen shrugged. “Whatever purpose makes them most comfortable.”

//////////

Though the castle was visible from the city, and for miles away, Verda never noticed it. It was built into the mountain and made from the mountain. Without the usual fineries of colored banners and gold accents, the castle blended in easily with the stone surroundings. As for the mountain itself, Verda asked the Queen if the other frost giants lived near its snowy peaks.

“They did,” she grimly answered, and Verda knew then not to ask any more.

The interior of the castle was enormous; and for a dragon to even consider using the word in a literal sense was a feat in of itself. A castle for a human was large already. A castle for a frost giant was staggering. Verda could see why humans enjoyed building them so much. So entranced by looking around the echoing halls that Verda could have easily stepped on the many humans that served in the castle. Luckily for them, they were practiced in avoiding the footfalls of their queen, and her equally sized guest.

Just as with the outside, the inside was sparsely furnished. There was an air of practicality and function to the castle’s design. Nothing like the decedent human castles Verda had seen. However, dragons are fond of decadence, so she was slightly disappointed. At the end of the long entrance hall was a stone throne. It was jagged and asymmetrical. The rest of the castle had been carved with precision and care, but the throne, despite being made of seemingly the same material as the castle, looked more naturally formed.

“My queen! You have returned!” His voice was small, as it was the voice of a human, but also practiced in being carried toward his queen’s ears. The echoing halls of the castle helped to carry his voice even better. “And I see you have conquered and subjugated the wicked dragon, as I had no doubt you could. A shining example of your resounding strength and warming benevolence.”

“Subjugated?” Verda sneered. Though the man spoke with brash confidence and smug arrogance, he was still just a man and she was still a dragon. No amount of confidence or arrogance would stop her foot, she thought. What did stop her, however, was the Queen’s staying hand. Her knowing, icy blue, eyes reminded Verda of what the humans wanted to believe.

“I have, MOS.” The Queen addressed the bald human who dressed in lavish gold, blue, and black robes. He was old, certainly older than any of the other humans that were in the castle hall. Despite standing in the path of two giantesses, he did not waver an inch. “Verda, this is my Master of Servants, or MOS as I call him,” the Queen said, introducing the two. If he was expecting Verda to bow, he’d be waiting a long time.

“MOS, the dragon Verda will be staying with me, under my watch, until better accommodations can be arranged. Until such time, you are to treat her with the same respect you treat me,” the Queen explained. She knew he would have trouble seeing anyone on par with herself, but she was confident he would obey, nonetheless.

“Of course, my queen,” MOS agreed with a deep bow. “A most wise decision, and one I shall uphold with the utmost diligence and care.” His manner of speech had a flow to it. A captivating rhythm that raised and lowered his pitch just slightly for each word, and never at random.

Verda’s eyes rolled. Her eyes continued moving along the castle’s interior, taking it all in.

“Who built this place?” Verda pondered.

“The Queen’s castle was built over--“ MOS had begun his readied speech, but the Queen halted him with her interjecting voice.

“I did.” She wanted to spare Verda the long winded and overly glowing history MOS had memorized.

“All of it?” Verda asked, her voice laced with disbelief at such a notion.

“All of it.” The Queen answered with no irony or jest.

“Impressive,” Verda responded, her voice pure with astonishment.

“I like to build.” The Queen shrugged.

As they walked the halls toward the Queen’s bedchambers, Verda became aware that the castle contained no doors, aside from the human sized ones that the servants were coming in and out of. There were even walkways and connecting stairs, built along the walls. They lead toward second and third floors’ worth of human sized rooms. All contained within the first giantess sized floor of the castle. Verda realized that not only was the castle made for a giantess, but it was also made for her human servants.

There was at least one door that Verda had seen; one that was her size, anyway. It was the door that opened into the Queen’s bedchambers. Verda could confirm that the Queen enjoyed at least some level of privacy. The bedchamber was just as unroyal as the rest of the castle. Stone layout, with some furniture made of a deep red wood. Not enough wood to spring for a bed frame, Verda saw. Or a mattress, for that matter. Like Verda herself, the Queen slept on a large collection of furs, fabrics, and leathers. It was not the royal treatment Verda was expecting, but it was at least familiar.

The Queen returned her battle axe to the wall, resting on several protruding hooks. Verda’s eyes scanned the assortment of weaponry the Queen kept. Daggers, swords, flails, maces, axes, hammers, and all sorts of variants in between. An entire wall was decorated with them, broken up only by the entrance to her closet. Verda wasn’t sure if she would have fared better or worse against any of the weapons she viewed, but she was content with the situation she was currently in. As content as a dragon can be while not being the strongest thing in a room.

Having shelved her weaponry, the Queen crossed to the opposite wall, which was lined by identical metal sliding covers. Each cover one was small, at most slightly bigger than two of Verda’s fists. They were all the same height off the ground. The sliding cover was slid open, and the Queen reached in. Seconds later, she pulled out a tiny, squirming, human.

The human, Verda saw, was dressed shabbily. Worse than any of the humans she’d seen so far within the walls. The Queen removed the clothing easily, tossing it back where she got the human. Verda moved to see inside the room unveiled by the sliding metal cover. The room itself was nothing of note; rather it was the contents that caught her eye. A half dozen humans, cowering and pleading for mercy. It was a stark contrast to the humans she’d seen in the Queen’s kingdom.

“Who are they?” Verda asked as the Queen stepped aside, giving her better access to peer inside.

“Prisoners,” she stated a few seconds before tossing one such condemned man into her mouth. “Help yourself.” Her offer was made with her mouth full, no doubt causing great discomfort to the human. The worst was soon to come, however. After swishing him around briefly, she swallowed him with little regard. Though the prisoners could hear the swallow, all they could see were their queen’s enormous breasts. Her breasts, and the face of her draconic guest.

Verda licked her lips at the sight of them. She’d already eaten so much, and she knew she shouldn’t have more, but she didn’t want to be rude. Her eyes scanned the small room for the ideal candidate. Like how one would examine a box of chocolates for the most appealing shape. Her lips curled inward and then popped back out, her tongue sandwiched between them as it gently moistened them.

The prisoners waited for her hand to reach in before they scattered away, but Verda was not their queen. Rather than reach in with her fingers, she did so with her tail. The tip slithered in and snaked around her chosen treat. He attempted to pin himself to the wall, to prevent himself from being snatched, but it was no use. The tail had curled halfway around him, acting like a hook. Verda dragged him toward her now opening maw. Perhaps she dragged him slower than she needed to, but part of the fun of eating humans was playing with them.

The pair of emeralds weren’t watching the doomed human. Instead, they were locked on his spared cellmates. The look of terror on their faces as they watched, helplessly, as their fellow human was being dragged away, helplessly. Despite all his pleas for help. He had turned himself around, to reach out toward the humans, and so didn’t realize how close he’d come to her mouth. He tripped backwards over her pillow-soft lip and her stone-hard teeth.

He landed on her tongue with a squish sound. Before he could get up, the dragon’s tail reached in and pinned him to her tongue. Her lips would close around the appendage soon after. The last thing he saw was the ridged roof of her excessively salivating mouth.

Outside the mouth and inside the cell, the remaining humans watched the tail slithered back out – dripping with spit. Verda swished and savored her graciously accepted treat. Her murmurs of satisfaction filled the cell and did its best to drown out their fearful whimpering. Suddenly, the poorly sewn clothes of the savored human were spat out into the cell, though with no human wearing them. When they looked back up from the soggy fabric, the dragon woman had craned her head back and showed off her throat.

The man inside had never held much love for his queen. His distaste for her had blossomed into criminal behavior. Behavior that had landed him in her dungeon. Though he never held much love for her, and had even less when he was arrested, he always hoped that if she did eat him, it would bring him some kind of honor in the afterlife. It was a small hope, but hope, nonetheless. He couldn’t have foreseen being eaten by a dragon woman. What honor was there in that, he wondered? Mostly what he thought about was how loud it was in her mouth, with all the wet smacking and rolling against her cheeks and roof, and of course the constant string of moans. The loudest of all was when she swallowed him.

Terrified eyes watched the lump slowly sail down the slender, human-like, neck, before it disappeared. They knew where it ended up, though, of course. Verda’s head lowered back to face the prisoners. She looked no less hungry after having eaten. She was all set to abuse the Queen’s generosity and get seconds, when suddenly she felt a riveting sensation. The Queen was straddling her tail.

Verda stood back upright, and immediately felt the Queen behind her. Seconds after that, she felt the Queen’s blue lips on her soft skin. Verda shivered at the Queen’s surprisingly gentle caresses. Even her blue hands, which she had wrapped around her, were playing gently with Verda’s breasts. The prisoners that remained got quite a show of the giant dragon’s giant tits being fondled by their queen’s strong hands. It was even enough to help them forget that the two sexually attractive women had just eaten two of their fellow prisoners.

It took some maneuvering to fit herself behind Verda. The Queen had to account for not only the tail, but the wings, too. She was determined to make it work, successfully so. The Queen delighted in caressing Verda’s body with her hands, lips, and even her own body. While Verda has been busy savoring/torturing the prisoners, the Queen had undressed. Her breasts pressed against Verda’s wings. Verda’s tail ran between the Queen’s thighs. The Queen moaned at her warm pussy rubbing against the base of Verda’s tail. Verda nearly came at having the Queen’s warm pussy on the base of her tail.

What surprised Verda was how the Queen didn’t skip over her scales. Most non-dragons had no interest in her scales. They only had eyes for her softer assets. While the Queen certainly enjoyed said curves – as evidenced by her squeezing Verda’s breasts and pulling on her nipples for the human audience – she was also proving that she found all of Verda attractive. Skin and scales all. It was a fact that Verda had to confirm.

“You don’t mind my scales?” Verda asked, feeling confident in the answer but fearful she would be wrong.

“Not at all.” The Queen paused her oral attention on Verda’s neck, only briefly, to reply. Between each kiss she gave a few more words of explanation. “Your scales are beautiful, like yourself. I also enjoy the contrast. Soft,” she said while running her hands down Verda’s smooth, bare skin, belly, “and hard,” she added, gently dragging her fingernails down Verda’s scales, being sure to move with the grain and not against.

“It’s like fire,” the Queen breathed hotly on Verda’s ear lobe, “and ice.” Following up her hot breath was a cool thin blowing of air from between puckered lips. The obvious shiver it called in Verda delighted the Queen. After giving the lobe a contrasting suckle and bite, she continued.

“Pleasure…” The Queen gave yet another delighting example, this time cupping Verda’s breasts and testing the heft of them in her palms, then tracing her fingertips around her nipples. “…and pain.” The Queen suddenly pinched and pulled on the dragon’s nipples while sinking her teeth against the nape of her neck. She didn’t puncture, but she came close – delightfully so, as far as Verda was concerned.

As the Queen heard and felt Verda cum, without having to ever touch her pussy, she slid herself back off the dragon’s tail, leaving a smear of her honey on the shiny scales.

“Besides, you’ve seen what kind of armor I wear.” The Queen referred to the black/violet scaled corset, kilt, and greaves she wore into her battle with Verda.

“It’s not dragon scale, I hope.” Verda’s breathy response was followed by a giggle. A giggle that was only slightly nervous that the frost giant would say it was.

“No,” the Queen reassured. “They’re the scales of a millennium worm.”

Verda turned around in shock. Even the sight of the blue giantess, in all her bare azure glory, wasn’t enough to distract her.

“A millennium worm? But I read they had all been wiped out over 500 years ago.” Had the Queen actually accomplished such a feat, or was she just being boastful to gain even more of Verda’s favor, she wondered?

“Who do you think wiped them out?” There was a small taste of smugness in the Queen’s proudly proclaimed truth. She held her arms crossed under her chest, pushing it up in hopes of reminding Verda of what was important.

The Queen had offered Verda many surprises up until that point. The idea that she had wiped out an entire species, densely packed and low populated though they were, was a new level of staggering shock – for several reasons. Killing a millennium worm was an impressive task. One only accomplished with large groups, and always while sustaining heavy losses. She knew it could be possible the Queen had had help, but the way she stood conveyed another truth. That the gorgeous frost giant had slain not just one, but all worms herself.

Furthermore, there was the fact that the worms had died over 500 years ago. Verda knew that giants, of all variety, could live a long time – relative to the humans who wrote the texts on them. Some could live between 150 to 200 years. Rare cases dated a giant to be a little over 300 years old. Yet the Queen claimed she had been around for more than 500 years. Verda was only able to come to terms with that fact for two reasons.

One, giants could live to be very old. However, none had ever been recorded of dying of old age. Giants were reckless and violent, and often died in battle or by accident. Still, scholars wondered how old could a giant grow to become? Secondly, the Queen was a frost giant, clearly. But little was known of that variety of giant. Maybe they were more cautious than other kinds. Maybe their physiology allowed them to live longer than their cousins.

The Queen was also living in ideal conditions. She seemed to have no competition for food, nor threats for her to thwart. Even if she did, Verda reasoned, she could handle herself. After all, she’d bested a dragon – one of the greatest threats one could face. Verda’s mind raced, as a scholarly dragon’s mind would. If there was a mystery, Verda wouldn’t relax until it was solved. The Queen, however, helped distract her.

Laid out on the bed, resting on her elbows and with her knees spread, the Queen beckoned Verda toward her. She could see the gears rapidly turning in her mind, but as soon as she flashed her exposed crotch and her wicked grin, she could tell Verda was refocused on what she could understand – she wanted to fuck.

Laying with a dragon was difficult, again due to wings and tail. The Queen could have asked Verda if she knew a spell to hide them, temporarily. She didn’t want to. Her hands didn’t just run over Verda’s curves – they also explored her wings and tail. But mostly her curves. The Queen really enjoyed what Verda brought to the table. But Verda wanted to bring more.

Pulling herself away from the loving embrace of the woman she’d just met, Verda proposed a surprise.

“Would you like to try something…interesting?” Verda asked huskily, rubbing her thigh up against the Queen’s dripping sex to try and win her favor.

“Depends on what it is,” the Queen replied with practicality. You don’t live as long as the Queen had by dealing in surprises.

“It’s better if I show you.” Verda’s offer remained mysterious, but the Queen nevertheless agreed. She was, after all, in her own bedroom, which was decorated with weapons. Plus, she was really horny, and Verda’s tone promised to deliver in spades.

Verda stood and turned back toward the prisoners’ cell, which neither of them had bothered to close. Neither of them cared to. If they were both being honest – they enjoyed the audience. Verda gave some consideration to whom she’d choose. She wanted the two biggest men that were available. She considered going for three, but she figured that’d be too much. Both for herself and for the Queen.

The dragon undressed one, then kept him gripped in her tail. The other was undressed as well and held in her hand. Her tailed moved down and then back up – into her pussy. It had inserted itself, and the human, into her tight, wet, tunnel. After taking a moment to enjoy the sensation, Verda let her tail slide back out.

“What are you doing?” The Queen felt compelled to ask, sitting up to watch. The Queen had seen a lot in her tenure, including what Verda was doing. She was mostly confused as to why the dragon was doing it without her.

“Just wait,” Verda replied, assuring the Queen that the reveal would come soon enough. After sucking the tip of her tail clean, the next human was inserted in the exact same way. Verda’s tail only dripped twice before she sucked her tail clean. Before the next step, Verda took yet another human, undressed him, and inserted him. It was a tight fit, but she wanted to treat herself. And the Queen. The dragon woman then reminded the frost giant of her skills in magic. She began to draw a glyph in the air, in front of her dripping labia.

The men inside had been packed in together, pushing up against each other as the walls pushed in on them. The men had always assumed that the insides of a dragon were as hot as the fire they breathed. While the insides of her horny tunnel were not as hot as fire, nor did she naturally breathe fire, they were still uncomfortably hot. And wet. And cramped. As Verda started her spell, the men felt a new sensation. One they couldn’t describe, nor would they have the time to.

Verda had only been slightly distracted by the wriggling pleasure inside her. With the incantation complete, Verda quickly clasped her hand against her sex and moaned. Slowly she pulled her hand back, and between the distance of her palm and her pussy started to form an ever-growing cock. Verda pulled her and away and revealed it to the Queen.

Her eyes went wide in surprise. She was all set to eat Verda out and stuff her full of prisoners, as Verda had already started to do. Now she was staring at a thick, weighty, draconic cock. Draconic in that it belonged to a dragon, but otherwise it had the shape of a human cock. Plus a few green scales along the side. For effect. She also noticed the testicles that hung behind the magical dick that had formed out of, and replaced, the dragon’s vagina. Though they did not look as impressive as the penis, the Queen was still enticed.

Her eyes also went wide in desire. It had been entirely too long since she’d seen a penis that would have any impact on her if used, and suddenly she was staring at one. Not erect, but the Queen would take that matter into her own hands if need be. She was planning to rub her pussy against Verda’s, but if the plan was turning toward getting plowed by Verda’s magical cock, so be it.

“Where did that come from?” the Queen had to ask. She didn’t want to look a gift horse cock in the mouth, but she was curious.

“I used the three prisoners and converted their physical forms into something more useful.” Verda’s fleshy appendage had been formed by the combined ‘material’ of the three humans. Plus some latent magic in the air to fill in the gaps and make it extra thick and long for the Queen. She wanted to treat her.

“So…you have a cock now?” the Queen asked. She didn’t mind; she was excited even. Though she was disappointed she wouldn’t get to worship at the dragon’s honey-soaked altar.

“If you’re asking if it’s permanent, then no,” Verda answered, reassuring the Queen that her dripping pussy would be back eventually. “For now, though – I do.”

“Does it work?” The Queen was asking basic, but important, questions.

“Come over here and find out,” Verda answered, dancing her eyebrows suggestively.

The Queen didn’t like the idea of obeying anyone. Nor did she like the idea of being on her knees for anyone. However, given the circumstances, she’d make an exception. Crawling off the bed, the Queen came up to Verda and knelt. The stone floor was harsh on her knees, but she didn’t mind. She didn’t even notice. She was focused on the first cock of consequence she’d seen in centuries.

Verda softly bit her lip as she watched the Queen manipulate her fresh cock between her blue hands. She worked with a curiosity that Verda found adorable. The way she dragged her fingertips slowly from the base to the tip. The Queen paid special attention to the thick vein that ran along the shaft. Verda cooed at the sight of the giantess holding up the cock with one hand, as if she were offering it to someone, and petted it with the other.

Little by little the shaft grew and hardened through her ministrations. The Queen hadn’t handled a cock like Verda’s in a very long time, so she was rusty on any techniques she used to know. So, she fell on instinct. An instinct that was serving her and Verda well. She remembered there being a musk that came with a cock, but Verda had no such scent. Likely due to it being a magical construct that was only a handful of moments old. She wondered if the humans Verda had used were still conscious – if they could feel anything she was doing. They could.

The humans knew they were now as one, but their minds remained separate. They couldn’t make much sense of the new position they were in; the new form they’d taken together. At the very least their nerves remained familiar. Every touch, every breath, every squeeze the Queen made to the cock – they felt. And they enjoyed. It was a nice distraction from their new and bizarre fate.

At last the surprise for the Queen had grown to its full glory. The Queen was rusty, but she knew what should come next. Her lips wetted and parted, and her hot breath tingled the humans that made up the appendage. Verda, despite her enjoyment, stopped her.

“Jus…” Verda took another moment to collect herself. “Just one moment.” She continued after a focused breath. “Do you happen to have any female prisoners?” Verda didn’t need a female for the next part, but females, she found, were a much better option than male. A sentiment she found was true of most things.

“Very few,” the Queen answered, noting their scarcity to Verda in case she thought of over-indulging. “Over there.” Her blue finger directed Verda’s green eyes toward another metal covering. It was the last one, in fact, at the end of the wall.

Verda begrudged that it meant she’d have to walk away from the Queen. But she knew it would be worth it. Still, it wounded her to turn away and free her dick from the tender but firm grasp. At the final cell, Verda worked quickly, but not hastily. She saw that the Queen was right, there were only three females in the cell whereas the last one had six or more, with other cells still left unopened. It didn’t matter. She only needed one.

Blue eyes watched the dragon work quickly, but focused. She couldn’t help but tease her fingers against her needful sex while she waited. Verda came back, nude woman in palm. All the Queen could see was her erect cock bouncing as she walked. And here I thought the only bounce she offered was in her breasts, the Queen thought.

The female prisoner was rolled from Verda’s palm and into the Queen’s cupped hands. There was no way she could have guessed what would come next. None could. Save for Verda.

“Put her in me,” Verda requested in no uncertain terms.

Had she still a vagina to easily accept humans, the Queen would know what to do. Were she turned around to present her anus, the Queen would know what to do. If Verda’s mouth was open and offered, the Queen would know what to do. However, all she saw was a cock. It took her a moment, but she knew what to do.

“If you can, try to get her nice and aroused.” Verda’s addendum would delay the insertion, but the Queen easily accepted. Verda watched as the little woman was placed into the mouth of the bigger woman. Though she couldn’t see exactly what the Queen was doing, Verda could guess. The movement of her jaw and cheeks, it was different than when she saw the Queen savor a meal. She was pleasuring the female prisoner.

Soaked and aroused, the convicted woman was gently dropped back into the Queen’s hand. She had no idea it could feel so good to have a giant tongue wrap around her. To have it gently lap away at her, between her legs. To feel her body moved against the ridged roof and have it stimulate her breasts. Lost in her stupefying arousal, she barely registered her legs being pinched and her feet being inserted into another tight, warm, confine.

The Queen eased the human woman down, keeping her as straight as possible. By the time she’d gotten her thigh-deep in cock, she started to squirm. It didn’t matter. She was going into that cock, fighting or willing. The Queen was sure Verda would prefer fighting. Verda’s needful moans gave her confidence in that assumption.

When the human was little more than waist-deep into the dick, the Queen stopped. The female had to catch her breath before she could make sense of anything. She couldn’t move her legs, not in any meaningful capacity. It was far too tight. Impossibly so. Then things got worse. Or better, depending on who you ask. The Queen’s mouth had opened and descended upon the prisoner and the cock that encased her.

Verda fought the urge to place her hand on the back of the Queen’s head as it bobbed. She figured that would be something the warrior queen would disapprove of. Instead, Verda busied her hands elsewhere. One hand cupped and squeezed her weighty breast, sinking her scaly claws into the supple flesh. Meanwhile, the other hand reached back and massaged the base of her tail in the only way Verda knew how. She had enjoyed the Queen’s massaging of it, but Verda knew that the best hands were always her own.

Falling back on instinct again, the Queen blew the dragon as best she could. Turned out, her best was more than good enough. Her lips were supple, her tongue was attentive, and her hands were active. Every few bobs she would take another inch, relative to her size, of the magical cock. Every bob, the woman sinking deeper and deeper.

As the Queen sucked on the shaft, taking breaks only to kiss it along its length, the prisoner was being eased further down into the impossibly tight tunnel. It was a slow process, but one helped along by many factors. The Queen’s hand squeezed around the shaft while her lips sealed around the head, sucking and licking at it and the woman. She focused her grip and gently but firmly worked the entrapped woman further and further down.

In addition, the Queen’s mouth helped with the process. If the woman wasn’t being pressed down further into the slit, the back of the throat helped. With every deep-throating attempt, the prisoner was pressed against the back of the Queen’s throat. Fighting for space, she was forced more into Verda’s shaft.

The strangest helper was the cock itself. Rather, it was the people that made it up. The three men couldn’t deny it felt amazing to have the human woman being squeezed into ‘them.’ They couldn’t really contextualize their feelings; they just knew it felt good. It helped to have their queen essentially giving them a full body blow job. They wanted more, and so they instinctively gobbled the woman up. Little by little.

Eventually, they ran into a snag. Verda could tell the human wasn’t descending further. After asking the Queen to take a breather, she saw the problem. The human’s breasts were too abundant to be pushed down inside. The Queen could see the problem, too.

“You just had to pick the busty one, huh?” she teased.

“What can I say? I have a type,” Verda shrugged playfully.

Neither were going to quit, though. With more determination, the Queen worked the woman down with all the tools at her disposal. Her hand worked her down hard. Her tongue pressed on her more firmly. And the back of her throat was pressed against her for longer. The hard work paid off, and the woman’s chest slipped in.

When she was just a head poking out an even bigger head, the Queen looked at her with a smile. It was a warm smile; almost comforting for the woman. She felt pride coming from the Queen. She felt as if she had fulfilled a purpose. However, survival instincts are stronger than indoctrination, so still she struggled. Especially when the Queen pressed her finger against her head and pushed her in the rest of the way.

With the prisoner finally moved from her cell and into a new prison, Verda’s cock worked in eagerness. The Queen could feel the busty human-shaped lump being dragged down the shaft, while her mouth was sealed around it. The prisoner was felt against the Queen’s tongue. She didn’t know why Verda had asked her to do it. All she could figure was it must have felt amazing. She’d have to remember to ask her if she could use that glyph on her own body, later. The Queen was also ready to keep sucking, prepared to take the first of what she assumed would be many loads. But once again, Verda stopped her.

“No,” Verda said, panting and determined. “I need to fuck you. Now.”

For once, a demand that the Queen felt no hesitation in following. As soon as she stood, after dragging her tits against the engorged member, she and Verda embraced in a kiss that made all past ones look like platonic pecks on the cheek. Their bodies pressed wildly together, sandwiching the twitching dick between their writhing torsos.

Verda could feel the Queen moving her back to pin her to the wall. Given her wings and tail, Verda figured that might be uncomfortable. So, using her momentum against her, she flipped the two of them. The Queen, then, found herself pinned to the wall. The change slowed neither of them down. With a fantasy in mind, Verda broke the kiss, with great effort due to the Queen’s fervent desire to stay lip-locked, and flipped the Queen over.

Suddenly, the blue woman found herself pinned face first to the wall, and her blue tit shoved against the open cell. The opening was of course far too small to accommodate all of her queenly globe. Enough got in to seal off the outside light the cell had, leaving only the flickering candle at the back. The prisoners were then witness to the giant breast struggling to fit inside; its nipple tantalizingly stiff before them. There was not one among them who wasn’t tempted to approach and caress it. A last hoorah. But none did.

Perhaps if they were given more time they would have. However, the Queen did not tolerate the position for long. Mostly, because it was uncomfortable. She opted to make some adjustments. Even though it was hard to stop the ravage of kisses on her neck and the hot cock sliding between her cheeks.

“I thought you said you were going to fuck me.” She knew Verda would rise to the challenge quickly, so the Queen worked fast. She kept herself facing the wall but moved so her hands were planted on either side of the open cell. Next she bent down, pushing her hips back to accommodate. Now instead of her soft, supple, breast being inside the cell, the prisoners were witness to her aroused face staring right back at them.

Verda had wanted to go slowly. It was the first time either of them had likely had penetration like they were about to have. It was especially new to Verda. Despite her desire to go slowly, however, her raw desire won out. So, instead of easing her meaty member in inch by inch, she shoved in as much as she could before she met with resistance. Both women shared in a gasp, a whimper, a shiver, and then froze in place for a few moments. That impulsion out of the way, Verda was mindful to take her time.

Inside the cell, the prisoners watched their queen’s face go through various stages of lewdness. At first, she kept herself reserved. Her lips were licked softly, with a quick peek of the tongue tip. Then her breath came heavy, forced from her nostrils. Eventually her breaths became harder, faster. They spilled out from her open mouth and into the open cell. Her hot breath filled the room and covered the men with condensation and sweat.

The Queen attempted to stifle her moans by biting her lip, but it was a temporary solution. Eventually, her lip was released with a “fuck,” the first of many. After that, her facial expressions were much lewder. Her mouth widened, her tongue creeped out – at least when she wasn’t telling Verda to go harder and/or faster or was reacting to Verda when she went harder and/or faster. All the while, her eyes watched the prisoners. Studying their expressions. Getting off on their reactions to her getting off. Then she felt a hunger.

The prisoners backed away as much as they could as their queen’s tongue lulled out into the room with them. She snaked it toward them, searching for anyone it could find. Her eyes were hidden from them, having moved her head up to get her tongue in better. They dashed left and right, trying to anticipate its movements and avoid it. Despite their efforts, one was finally caught. Her tongue had snagged on his clothing and immediately began to pull him in.

He scrambled and pleaded for his cellmates to grab his hands while they still could, but they didn’t budge. They were overcome with fear and self preservation. They also knew, deep down, that it would have been a futile gesture, and one that would likely get them eaten as well.

As soon as she felt him reach her lips, she closed them around him. As Verda fucked her, she slurped in the prisoner. Every penetrating thrust sent the man a little bit more into the hungry cave. A moment of salvation came when Verda hit just the right spot, and the Queen felt compelled to gasp and release an expletive. Out came the man, scrambling toward safety. The moment didn’t last long enough, however, and soon he was caught again by her lips and slurped back in. His clothes came off in the process, and he was swallowed down into her gullet.

Inside her stomach, he met with the weakened man she had swallowed earlier. In the vibrant blue cave, the two of them were tossed around violently as the Queen was fucked violently. They heard every moan, every slap, every spank, and every thrust. It all sounded so wet and fierce. The combined sexual moans of the highly aroused women were too powerful for either man to stifle their erections. Even there, in the place of their eventual demise.

The Queen wondered what ever happened to the woman she had stuffed inside Verda’s cock. She had felt her, for a while, after Verda penetrated her tight pussy. Over time, though, she could no longer feel her. By the time she had wondered that, the woman was already gone.

While the two of them fucked, the female prisoner had been squeezed further down the shaft. Slowly, as before, though not as slowly. Her destination was the ball sack that was swinging during the fuck. Unlike the prisoners in the Queen’s belly, the woman’s final location was pitch black. She saw nothing. It smelled as nothing, it being so new. Any sounds it might be making were drowned out by the furious fucking that swung her new prison cell. What she felt, however, is what truly concerned her. She wasn’t being digested. Rather, she was being converted. Little by little the woman was having her very material form converted into thick, hot, cum. Just as the men had been shifted into a new, sexual form, so too had the woman been selected as an ingredient for Verda.

Covered in a light sheen of sweat, the Queen came. It was Verda’s clawed hand on her swinging breast, while the other one groped and slapped at her ass, that drove her over the edge. That, and the feeling of the squirming convicts in her stomach. Her inner walls clamped down hard on Verda’s cock, holding it inside her as she covered it in her juices.

That pressure proved to be the final straw for Verda. That and the feeling of her weighty tit in her clawed hand, while her other gripped one thick half of the Queen’s substantial ass. Not to mention the feeling of all those humans bouncing around inside her, and the sensation of the human life converted into a heavy load of cum that was begging to be released. Along with the Queen, she came.

The first of what she hoped would be many loads erupted inside of the blue woman. It occupied so much space, which was already limited due to the tight confines and the thick cock, and some spilled out even before Verda was able to pull back her spent member. It dripped from her head and onto the floor as the mixture of the Queen’s and Verda’s cum did the same from the Queen’s entrance.

After she had caught her breath, the Queen realized what had happened. Her face turned to Verda, who was then leaned up against the wall and catching her breath. Her hand reached down and tested what she felt. What she pulled back was sure enough the sticky remains of the female prisoner that had been converted into the warm, syrupy, fluid.

“Did you just cum inside me?” the Queen asked, holding up the damning evidence on her fingers to Verda.

“I sure did,” she answered proudly before sucking the evidence off the Queen’s fingers.

“Did you not think to ask me first?” Her tone had become more hostile, noticeably so. She was not amused.

“Relax,” Verda laughed. She could see the Queen was miffed, but she couldn’t fathom a reason why. Probably her ego, she thought. “Dragons are immune to disease - if you’re worried I passed something to you. And it’s not like I can get you pregnant,” Verda added, laughing again. “My seed can only impregnate a dragon, angel, or demon. And you…” Verda paused to push off the wall and face the Queen directly. Her hands rubbed up and down on her toned arms. “…are a frost giant. A gorgeous, vivacious, and insatiable frost giant.”

“And a queen,” the Queen felt was necessary to add.

Verda rolled her eyes and smirked. “Regardless, you have nothing to worry about. But, if you didn’t like how it felt, I can just remove my coc-“

“I didn’t say that,” the Queen interrupted. “Just…save the cum for my mouth and ass, okay?” She also wouldn’t mind a load on her tits, but she didn’t want to show all her cards right away.

“You want me to fuck your ass?” Verda pressed, cocking a brow.

“Only if I get to put stuff up yours,” she naughtily replied, both knowing what ‘stuff’ she referred to.

Emerald and sapphire eyes cut to the remaining prisoners in the cell. They had heard every word, of course, and knew exactly what would come next as the Queen reached for them.

//////////

The rest of the night was far more debauched than its first act. The Queen was adamant in trying every naughty thing she could think of doing with a human and a giant cock. Verda was all too happy to oblige. What humans weren’t turned into cum, fucked into holes, or crushed under tits and ass were gobbled up to fuel the giantesses’ marathon of sex.

The last three survivors were the prisoners who had formed Verda’s appendage. In her final act before the two women finally decided to collapse and rest, Verda ended the spell that bound the men together into a new form. Verda and the Queen grabbed one each and slurped them into their mouths. Just like back at the fishing village, they shared the men between them, aided by their caressing tongues. While they did that, the third man who had been freed from the cock confinement ran. In any other circumstance Verda and the Queen might have looked around more for the third human they knew had to be around, but both were so exhausted that they opted to push that chore to a later date.

Their bellies were visibly full. Or would have been if they hadn’t slept on top of one another, belly to belly, pressing the churning masses together. The only survivor of The Joining of Scales and Skin made good on his escape.

After that, Verda was of course allowed to stay in the kingdom. She even stayed in the Queen’s bedroom, for a time. During the day, the Queen would work on carving out a cave for Verda. At night, she’d return to her castle. Though she was tired, her body coated in sweat, she always made time for her guest.

Verda wasn’t thrilled that she was being forced to live in a cave again. She would have preferred to stay in the castle, even in another room if need be. However, the Queen made it clear that the ruse must be maintained. The ruse that the dragon had been conquered and subjugated but must be kept happy. Her happiness, as far as the humans were concerned, could only be accomplished in two ways. One, to send her prisoners as sacrifice, acting as her food. And two, for the Queen to visit her regularly to satiate her other hunger – lust. The Queen was heralded as being brave and loving to ‘sacrifice’ herself like that to the dragon over and over. The prisoners were seen as being finally given a purpose to their unlawful lives.

Though Verda didn’t like the idea of living in a cave, the Queen had worked hard to make it welcoming (unless you were a human). Though the entrance to it was a cave, carved into the mountain, the interior was finely sculpted and crafted. All the lavish decorations that Verda didn’t see in the castle were given to her. Fine silks, furs, and leathers. Artwork. Gold and jewels. Multiple rooms, even, rather than just one big open space. It was not only a cave fit for a dragon, but a cave fit for Verda. She loved it.

Of course, Verda kept up their end of the bargain. Every so often she would travel out into the world and scoop up villagers from different lands. Most were brought directly to the city itself, to live within its walls. As soon as it was rebuilt, villagers were to be brought to the fishing village, renamed to Dragon’s Folly. Verda wasn’t a fan of the name.

Verda had followed a strict etiquette when it came to picking up humans. One dictated by the Queen herself. It was constructed and enacted so that the humans felt like they were being rescued and delivered to a better land. For many, that was actually the case. They had to come willingly after Verda arrived and made the offer. Any chosen could bring their family, if they wanted. In the kingdom of Bulwark, they weren’t totally free of the threat of being eaten, but the threat was greatly diminished since they only had to worry about one giantess (two if they broke the law).

Some, however, were brought for the explicit purpose of being eaten by the Queen, so she could enjoy their exotic flavors and struggles. Those humans were taken from the villages that refused to volunteer any to travel to Bulwark willingly. In those cases, Verda took the entire village.

The Queen and Verda felt confident in their new arrangement and enjoyed the fruits of their labors.

Soon enough, however, the consequences of the arrangement would be coming to their shores.

My first day of service was the most important day of my life…

I had never excelled at anything. At most I was average in any given area. Most damning, I never showed enough promise in a trade. My options for employment were thus limited. However, there was one job in the kingdom that had only one requirement: devotion to the Queen.

As requirements go, that had to be the easiest. There wasn’t a person in the city of Bulwark who wasn’t devoted to the Queen. My only trepidation was that living as one of her servants meant living in the castle. I’d be leaving behind my friends, my family, my life as I knew it. Since I had little family, no friends, and a piss poor life, the choice was easy. Besides, living without employment was not tolerated in Bulwark. If I hadn’t made the choice, it would have been made for me.

I had always known the castle was big. Even in the distance, at the foot of the mountain, it towered above us all. Standing there, though, before its grand archway entry, I felt dizzy. Not wanting to be late on my first day, I steeled my eyes forward and strode through the open doors. If the light from the outside hadn’t illuminated the insides, the many torches would have.

Columns ran down the length of the entry hall, leading the eyes toward the throne at the end. An intimidating sight, given its jagged and seemingly natural formation. Without a queen sitting there, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to sit there myself. It likely would have been a more humorous sight than an intimidating one. My imagination broke upon hearing his voice.

“Greetings! And welcome to your greatest purpose.” His voice was commanding, carried easily through the echoing halls. His age did nothing to diminish the baritone of his voice, though his age was evident. He was old. Older than anyone I’d ever seen. Yet he didn’t look weaker for it. He carried himself with a boisterous dignity, draped in finer fabrics than I’d ever worn. Any hair on his head had either fallen out or been shaved away.

“I am the Master of Servants,” he introduced himself as, “but you may call me Master.” A title he seemed all too eager to impress upon me. As if I didn’t already feel small standing in the foyer of the Queen’s castle. I had seen him once before in my life, in the city. He was out on some official business, I’m sure. Back then he regarded me with a cold, uncaring, glance. I held no more value to him than a rock on the side of the road. Yet now he was warmer; welcoming. I doubt it was because he had changed over the years. More likely it was because I now held purpose. My ‘greatest purpose,’ as he called it.

“I’m Peck,” I replied. I had no grand titles to accompany my name. I’d wager he wasn’t expecting any, either.

“Peck,” he repeated, as if to commit it to memory. “Welcome, Peck. I shall be showing you around the castle, to acquaint you with your various duties, where they’ll be conducted, and their importance. Do you understand?”

Did he think I was any idiot? He must have. Despite the honor that came with serving the Queen in her castle, it was not a position you had to work hard for. As if he could read my thoughts on the matter, the Master addressed my concerns.

“Your tasks may be simple, but all hold an importance their own. Prove yourself reliable, capable, and above all skilled, and you will find that servitude does not begin and end with being a servant.” A small smile formed on his cracked and wrinkled face. “After all, I too was once standing where you are today.” Though the thought gave me hope, the Master suddenly pulled me from where I had been standing. Moments later, the ground shook.

There she was. The Queen. A tall, statuesque, beauty of an otherworldly hue. Muscles and curves, all generously displayed through minimal and snug fur clothing. And I had nearly been stepped on by her. I’m not sure how I didn’t hear her coming. All of her steps after that first, dangerous, one were not only heard but felt. The Master must have been able to pull me in with his words and voice, putting blinders on me to the rest of the world.

“The first rule of servitude to the Queen,” the Master spoke, pulling my attention, but not my eyes, away from the Queen, “is don’t be under foot. Easy to follow, if you’re paying attention. Easy to break, too. Too many servants have been crushed by her powerful step simply because they couldn’t pull their eyes away from her as she walked.”

I didn’t blame them, though I didn’t want to mimic them.

“Come,” he said, stepping in front of me. “We have much to see and only a day to do so. Don’t tarry.”

I followed along behind the Master of Servants, matching his step and taking in his words. He gave me the history of the castle, and its construction. Interesting, though longwinded. It at least served as some entertainment as we made the journey toward the throne. The throne where the Queen was seated.

When we arrived, she had already taken off her sandals. Ankles were crossed over one another as she stretched out her legs straight. A team of servants were diligently washing the soles of her feet. Hand brushes and brushes with long, reaching, handles were used to scrub away any dirt and grime that had accumulated on her soles. A few servants had even climbed up near her toes to get in between them.

That was my first glimpse into what she was capable of.

The servants had been working skillfully at cleaning her soles. The Queen, meanwhile, rested her cheek against a raised fist. Her eyes looking elsewhere in thought. That’s when it happened. One of the servants was getting in between her big toe and the next when she scrunched them. The toes flexed forward and squeezed together. The man became trapped inside the intense pressure.

The other servants did what they could to pull him out. There was no fighting her strength. He squirmed and pleaded for aid, but there was only one person who could help. And she did nothing. All eyes were on this man and his plight. Mine had been as well but started to search elsewhere. First, they fell on the Master, who looked more annoyed that the servants had stopped their cleaning than he looked concerned for their lives. Then I looked to the one person who could save the man.

Her eyes were no longer lost in thought. They were directed at her feet. Not in any kind of focus or malice. There was a casual interest in her eyes. Yet the mere fact that they were looking at her feet told volumes. She hadn’t made some mistake, absentmindedly. Even if she had, she knew what she was doing. She could see it. Yet rather than relax her grip, she kept it. Then her eyes moved.

Onto me.

No doubt I took up little space in her field of vision. But I know she felt it. I know she felt my eyes on hers. She could see what I was thinking based on my eyes alone, just as I had with her. In that moment, she relaxed her toes. The man hung there, taking in fast, deep, breaths while the others pulled him out of the dangerous space. The collection of relieved gasps told me the man was safe, but my eyes stayed on her.

“You and you,” spoke the Master, “take him to the infirmary. The rest of you get back to work!”

“Who are you?” the Queen spoke. If the Master’s voice had been commanding, the Queen’s was godly. I had found myself in a staring contest with the frost giant queen, and now she wanted to know my name.

“This is no one, my queen.” The Master stepped in for me, dismissing any importance she had placed on my identity. “A new servant, and nothing more.”

“I didn’t as you, MOS.” The Queen reminded the Master, or MOS as she seemed to call him, of his place. Her eyes flicked off mine for only a second, so she could address him. Then they were back to me.

“I’m Peck, my queen,” I said. What more could I say?

“Peck.” She repeated my name just as the Master had. Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, then flicked back to the Master. Her head back upright, and her arms at their rests, she spoke again.

“MOS, I’m hungry.”

“I shall have some food prepared for you right away, my queen,” he promised with a bow.

“Wrists to ankle,” she qualified. I had no idea what that could mean. Though I would find out soon enough.

“A most palatable option, my queen.” The order given and accepted, MOS turned back toward me. “Come along, Peck,” he said my name was a level of derision. He didn’t sound happy that the Queen knew my name, or that she cared to know it at all. As I followed along behind him, I took a moment to look over my shoulder at the Queen. She was no longer looking at me. Yet when I continued onward, I swear I could feel her gaze on my back.

I couldn’t get my mind off what I’d just seen. I knew the Queen ‘sampled’ her subjects, but I’d just assumed it was a necessary sacrifice. Our payment for living within the safety of her protection. What I’d seen was a sacrifice, but not a necessary one. It was one done not out of need, or even want. It was done out of boredom. It boggled my mind. What’s more, the slaves continued to work. Not out of fear, not that I could see. Were they really all so convinced of her benevolence as to dismiss it as an accident? Were they really so blind?

Had I been that blind?

Appropriately, my thoughts on lack of perception caused me to walk straight into MOS’s back. Not only had I bumped into him, but I’d interrupted his delivery of orders. He fixed me with a cold glare. I guess he had more important matters to deal with than punishing me. I had blindly followed him into the dungeon. Aside from the bars and the size of the room, it looked no different from the rest of the castle. I wonder now if that had been a sign.

“Prepare six prisoners, wrists to ankle.” The qualifier still made no sense to me. What did make sense to me was the look of fear on the prisoners’ faces. They knew what was coming next. We all did. The Queen had said she was hungry. I’d never seen her eat anything else but us. The only thing that could break me from the collected sounds of doomed screams was that of a single, happy, womanly giggle.

I peered out into the hallway toward it source. It was hard to determine, given the size of the hall. The echo carried it far, so it could be anywhere. I did the only thing I could – I walked. I walked in the direction I had been to reach the dungeon. I chose correctly. The further I walked, the louder the laughter became. And it was no longer just one woman, but several. Men too.

There, in the distance, I saw a door ajar. Spilling out into the dimly lit hall was a faint pink light. Worried my absence would be noticed any minute, I sprinted toward the door. If what I saw in the dungeon was fear and death, what I saw in the pink room was the exact opposite.

Men and women, all completely nude, and all completely beautiful. Laughing and enjoying themselves. Some fed each other berries. Others splashed in a thick, pink, liquid. Most were making love. Caressing, squeezing, kissing, tasting, moaning love. Not one among them looked unhappy, and not one among them looked anything less than gorgeous. Full lips parted in breathy moans. Thick fingers sinking into supple thighs. Heavy breasts spilling across broad chests. Hips constantly moving in an erotic dance.

On one of the beds were two women, laying atop each other, pelvis to face. I couldn’t distinguish their moans from all the others, but I had no doubt they were enjoying themselves. One woman raised her head and her eyes fell on me. Her eyes were full of lust and want. Even in a room filled with sex, she looked like she wanted more. Fluids dripped from her chin and she smiled at me. Her finger curled, beckoning me in to join. Before I could, I felt a skeletal but firm grip on my shoulder.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” MOS asked rhetorically.

“Who are they?”

“The Intimates.” He stayed standing with me as he explained. “They are the Queen’s pleasure attendants. They drink and bathe in blush berry wine all day, so they are always aroused and ready to server their Queen.”

Blush berry wine. A beverage typically only served during the fertility festival. Many babies are conceived during the festival. Most people only got to drink the rare and expensive wine on that one day in the year. However, the Intimates were allowed to not only drink it, but bathe in it. Year-round.

“How do you become an Intimate?” I asked, my intentions obvious.

“Peak physical fitness, to endure the Queen’s desires, and a natural attractiveness, to entice the Queen’s desires.” MOS eyed me up and down. “With some more definition, you may be qualified. For now, I wouldn’t worry about it. Come.”

I had hoped he’d say you just had to sign up, but I knew that was a long shot. At least I had some hope, according to MOS’s calculating assessment. I followed behind him once again and did my best to not think of the pink room, so my erection could go down.

I was amazed at all the doors and walkways that ran along the walls of the hallway. To the Queen it would just be a hallway, but to us it was a city street. I thought that if the rest of the castle was arranged similarly, then the castle was another city entirely.

To my dismay, we caught up with the prisoners. Just as they were entering the throne room. I don’t know why MOS brought me back to the throne room. To watch? As punishment? I couldn’t fathom what lesson he was trying to impart on me, because he never said a word to me about it. But there was a smugness about him. I know the Queen must get some joy out of consuming the prisoners. The same kind of joy I might get from eating a fresh loaf of bread. MOS, on the other hand, also exuded joy. Subtly, but I could sense it. A sadistic glee in seeing his Queen demonstrate her power.

Wrists to ankle. That had been the order given. I saw then what she meant. The six prisoners had been bound to each other. A long length of rope between each. One end was tied to an ankle of the first prisoner. The other end was tied around the wrists of the prisoner behind him. And so it went down the line. I could see then what the phrase meant, but I still couldn’t understand why it had been done. Then she picked up the prisoner at the front of the line.

As he was lifted up, so too were the other prisoners. With how they were bound together, they stretched out vertically. They were like links in a chain, connected by rope. I can’t imagine the pain they must have felt in their arms and legs. Even the last prisoner must have felt some kind of strain on his wrists. The ones near the other end would have felt even greater pain as the weight pulled on them. It would not be a long-lasting pain, though.

The first prisoner was sucked from her fingers and into her mouth. But the rope remained tied. Little by little she slurped more of the rope in until the next prisoner touched her lips. Then a smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. In went the next. The rest were forced to hang there in agonizing pain, as she sucked and savored the prisoner. Either dangling against her stomach or between her breasts, they waited. Each undoubtedly wanted the pain to stop, but did any of them realize what it would mean to do so?

One man tried to squeeze himself between her breasts. A last hoorah, or an attempt to hide? Given his face after he was pulled free, my guess was ‘hide.’ Every gulp resounded throughout the hall. No one spoke, save for the prisoners. I have no idea what their crimes were. I wondered if any crime warranted that kind of punishment. I had seen a lot of cells in the dungeon, with a lot of men. Surely not all of them had done something so heinous as to be condemned to this fate.

With the last man, the Queen bit into the rope. Her incisors severed it instantly, her full lips pulling back so we could all see the great, white, cutters. Down the man fell, landing upon her right breast. He bounced on impact and then rolled toward her cleavage. There was no fighting it, he was going in. Her breasts so snuggly contained, he only slipped halfway into her cleavage, but the Queen helped with the rest. She pushed him in with her finger, and there was no mistaking the curt chuckle she made.

Though none of us could see him, we all could only imagine what he was enduring. The Queen pressed on her breasts, squeezing them further together, and compressing them around the prisoner. Over and over she did this, and none of us said anything. We all just watched. It was hard not to. We’d seen her eat five men, and was now torturing a sixth, but she was doing so with her breasts. The Queen’s breasts. Huge, soft, pliable globes that she was playing with. A confusing mix of arousal and fear.

Then she held them. Tightly together. Second after second passed, until suddenly her lips parted slightly in a quick gasp. She had felt something, then released her tits. A single finger went in to investigate. That same finger came out, dipped in blood. Blood she was all too happy to suck off the tip. There was a scent in the air at that point. The blush on her cheeks and chest, the sounds she had made, and the things she had done to herself. It was clear what was causing it. MOS figured it out too.

“Shall I prepare some Intimates for you, my queen?” he asked.

“No.” Her answer was simple. Her follow-up was not. “I’m going to see Verda, the dragon.”

I knew about the dragon. How could I not? Everyone did. The Queen had conquered and enslaved a living dragon and marched her through the streets, parading her victory. It was strange to see another creature of the Queen’s size, to say the least. It was strange to see that the dragon was also immensely beautiful. Yet I didn’t really think about the dragon in that moment, in the castle. Instead I thought about the look the Queen gave me.

Had I been brought back into the throne room at her behest? Did she want to teach me a lesson? Or was it MOS? Either way, the message was received. Servants may live a dangerous life, throwing themselves at the possibility of death in service every day. Prisoners where guaranteed death, however. And the difference between myself and a prisoner could be a single misstep. If it had been MOS’s lesson, so be it. But if it had been the Queen’s? Then that meant she ended six lives just to prove a point. Her power was not just in her size and strength.

MOS continued to show me around the castle, though nothing compared to what I had already seen. Nothing was as alluring as the pink room, and nothing was as harrowing as the throne room. Still, I paid attention as best I could. I didn’t want to miss a key step and find myself faltering irreparably. Even though I did my best to focus, and to my knowledge I hadn’t missed anything, my mind kept going back to the Queen.

The licking. The savoring. The gulping. The screams. The moans. I think that’s what upset me the most. It wasn’t just feeding. It was foreplay. She wasn’t eating out of necessity; she was doing it out of pleasure. I suppose there could be other reasons to her behavior. Just none that I can conceive of. What upset me the most was how arousing it had all been. I like to think it was simply because of her body, displaying equal amounts of musculature and curves. I hope it wasn’t because of what she was doing to those men with her body.

I had been assigned a simple duty for my first night: cleaning the floors. I just wish it hadn’t been at night. In retrospect, I wish I hadn’t been given the job at all. Nevertheless, the duty was conducted past sundown. The reason being that it took so long to clean the floors of the castle. It was an all-day affair. An affair that took me toward the pink room again. I’d be lying if I said that was by accident. Though I could hear nothing from there, I approached all the same.

What I saw was, I’ll admit, something of a disappointment. At least half of the occupants I’d seen earlier were gone. Those that remained were all sound asleep. I suppose living in a constant orgy would take it out of you. My eyes did linger, nonetheless. Though asleep, they were still beautiful, and they were still naked. They weren’t so exhausted that they couldn’t hear my map falling too the floor clumsily. One of the women was stirred and sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. When she saw me, I saw that same lust in her eyes I saw earlier.

She had reddish blonde hair, or blondish red hair, and freckles from cheek to cheek and on her perky chest. She had a sweet face that reminded me of a girl I once knew. She had a body that reminded me of a wet dream I once had. Her smile was sweet and welcoming. Her curves were not so humble she couldn’t be boastful about them.

“Hi there,” she said with equal amounts glee and arousal. “What’s your name?”

“P-Peck,” I stammered. I couldn’t help it. I was caught off guard. I hadn’t expected her to even acknowledge me, let alone address me.

“Peck.” She giggled at my name and/or my nervousness. Standing up from the bed did nothing to calm me. Her eyes swung left and right, noticing what I had. “I guess they left without me.” She sounded unsurprised, but no less hurt by the revelation.

“Where did they go?” I asked.

Her pout turned into a grin. “I’ll show you.” Before she approached, she took a sip from the silver goblet resting on the floor.

“Oh, no,” I replied, wondering why I had, “I should get back to work.” She had other ideas.

Before I could react with more than a stammer, she threw her arms behind my head and pressed her thin, sweetened, lips against mine. Seconds after the first press of her lips, her tongue was in my mouth, coaxing mine into hers. I felt dizzy. She tasted so wonderful. She tastes so sweet and a little tangy, I thought, …and tingly…Blush berry! Of course, what had been in the cup was blush berry wine, and now she was rubbing her wine-covered tongue in my mouth and forcing my tongue into her wine-soaked mouth.

Before I knew it, I was running down the hallway with her, her hand holding mine and leading me along. At some point, I don’t remember when, my clothes came off. I have no idea where they ended up. I mostly remember the sight of her cute ass running ahead of me, and my painfully erect cock bouncing as we ran.

She was taking me somewhere specific. Somewhere with lots of moaning and giggling. She was taking me to where the others had left for. Then I heard another moan, a louder moan. A moan I’d heard before, in the throne room. In the short distance, I finally realized our destination. The large door left ajar, letting the aroused voices echo out.

We were heading to the Queen’s bedroom.

When I tried to pull away, I just ended up looking at the dimples above her ass, and I was lost to her and the wine again. The next thing I knew, we were inside the Queen’s bedchambers. And there she was. Lying upon her bed of furs and leathers, completely enraptured and completely naked. It was a sight far above that of just the naked woman who had led me to the bedroom. The Queen was already beautiful, that I knew, but seeing her not only naked but writhing in pleasure completely hexed my mind.

The woman’s giggling continued as she led me toward the Queen. I was so dopey and possessed that I didn’t realize the possible ramifications before it was too late. When I did, we were already between those two, great, blue, thighs. There I saw him. One of the men from the pink room, I’m sure, squeezing himself into the Queen. Into her wet, inviting, pussy. Before he went fully in, he reached out toward my escort, wanting to take her, and me, with him.

I started to pull back, tried to loosen her grasp on my wrist, but she was surprisingly strong. She kept reassuring me that it would be alright. No, that it would be more than alright. That it would be wonderful and orgasmic. I simply hadn’t had enough blush berry wine to believe her. I wanted to, truly I did. But all I could think about was how much trouble I’d be in if I was discovered. About how fatal it could be to be inside a giantess in that manner.

She held her grip even as she slipped in between the blue labia. She likely would have been able to pull me in, were it not for the intervention of the Queen. Just as I was about to go in, my foot pressed against her lips to gain leverage and push back, a finger descended. A finger that swung past me and pressed against the Queen’s dripping lips. That was more than enough strength to break the woman’s hold on my wrist, as well as push her the rest of the way in. Along with the finger itself. It slipped out a moment later, soaked, and playing with her clit.

It was an erotic sight, to be sure. Seeing a giant vagina before me, soaked and radiating enough heat to squint my eyes. A vagina that had gobbled up at least two people, probably more, while its clit was flicked and rubbed. The echoing moans of my queen tried to persuade me to not only stay but join the others inside her. But I ran. Something inside me snapped and I had to get out of there before I was caught.

But I was.

I was caught.

“Peck.” That was all I needed to hear to stop in my tracks. There was no mistaking who had said my name. Even if I’d never heard her voice before, the boom of it could belong to no one other than a giantess. I turned and saw her.

Her body hadn’t completely paused in its writhing pleasure, but it had slowed. I couldn’t quite read her mood, but she didn’t look mad. She looked more curious than anything. Like she’d seen something new she wanted. I wasn’t so egotistical to think it was me she wanted, but she had said my name, so… Either way, she was looking right at me. She said nothing else other than my name. Her eyes said the rest. She wanted me to approach.

And so, I did.

As I neared, she laid down a hand to the floor. Palm up. I’d never been offered a ride from a giantess before, but it wasn’t hard to parse the intention of the gesture. I climbed aboard and immediately had to keep myself from falling as I rose. Her hand stopped, resting on her chest, just above the slopes of her breasts. Naturally, I had to turn around to see.

There, on either breast, was a woman. Naked. Pleasuring themselves on the Queen’s erect, deep blue, nipples. One had a nipple between her thighs in a leg lock, grinding herself against it as she braced her hands behind her on the supple breast. The other was bouncing on the nipple, laughing as she did, taking breaks only to swivel her hips against the nub and pleasure herself. And in the distance, I could see the Queen’s hand was still fingering herself between her spread thighs.

I could have kept watching for hours, if they’d let me, but something changed. I was no longer resting on the hand; I was being gripped between its fingertips. Softly, but gripped, nonetheless. I saw my destination immediately. The Queen’s mouth. It wasn’t wide open, at least, but it was slightly parted. Even if it was tightly closed, I would have been terrified. I looked up to her eyes and they were looking right at me. And they were filled with lust. Pure lust. Like I had seen in the reddish-blonde woman from the pink room.

My eyes didn’t linger on hers for long. They were more focused on her lips, which were parted to let out quick, subtle, breaths. Just as I felt I was going to be shoved down into her mouth, her lips closed. I was gently placed face down upon her puckered lips. At the very least, I hadn’t been swallowed whole, but that’s not to say I wasn’t in her mouth. Between her lips, snug and secured between those soft tiers, was my painfully erect cock.

It felt amazing.

My fear remained, but it was diminishing fast. It had to make room for the pleasure I was feeling. Suddenly, I felt pressure on my back. It was her finger, pressing me down against her lips. There was my fear again. I felt for sure she was just going to shove me into her mouth. Instead, she was massaging my back. Working my body softly against her lips. Even her lips were working me over. Puckering and relaxing, puckering and relaxing.

She was sucking me off!

It didn’t take me long to get into it. My hips began to move of their own accord, and I no longer needed her finger to guide me. Happily, I hung onto her plump upper lip and started to hump away between her suckling lips. I was getting a damn blow job from the Queen! I was in the Dawn. I didn’t even care that between those lips, hours earlier, passed five unfortunate souls. I didn’t even think about that. I just thought about how soft she felt. About how her moans vibrated through her lips and into my body.

After her hand had left my back, I looked over my shoulder to where it had gone. I caught it just as it landed on her breast. I had no idea if the woman was still there under her palm. The other woman was still on her other breast, though. I had no idea if the woman was okay. I hardly thought about it, I’m sorry to say. I was more focused on the Queen’s hand cupping her own tit and squeezing, sinking her fingers into the supple flesh in a way I wish I could.

The pillow soft lips I laid on, the moaning vibrations running through me, the warmth of her mouth tickling my crotch, the soft suction she applied to my erection, and the sight of her demonstrating the ripe fullness of her tit. It all became too much and I came. I don’t feel bad about that. I assume that was the goal, after all. Seconds later, the Queen came too.

And that’s when things went bad.

For a moment, her lips squeezed tight against me as her body tensed. Her hand squeezed her breast extra tight. Then suddenly, she screamed. A loud, deafening, moaning scream as she undoubtedly came. In most other circumstances, I would have enjoyed seeing that. However, I was on her mouth.

I was on her mouth as it opened.

In an instant her mouth widened, and I no longer had the safety of her plush, pillow, lips to support me. Surprised, I had no time to grab onto anything. I just fell. Knocking my head against her top row of teeth and sliding down the slick and slimy surface of her tongue. As I fell, she was still moaning. Moaning as I fell to my certain death.

I don’t know if it was an accident or not. What I do know is that she most definitely swallowed once I hit the back of her throat. And I swear I could feel her tongue moving against my feet, pushing me further down into the dim, strangely glowing, abyss. Even as I sat in her stomach, I could hear her give soft moans and heavy breaths, her heart rate slowing as she came down from her high.

So, now I sit in her stomach, waiting to be digested. I feel weak. I’m not sure if I’ll still be conscious when I start to visibly digest. I hope not. If I am, I’d see it all. The insides of her stomach are glowing. A bright blue lake of stomach acids. I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me. She isn’t human, after all. She’s a monster. A monster who rules over and protects us, sure, but a monster, nonetheless. We’re not just food to her, we’re playthings. Objects of her enjoyment to be used at her leisure. I suppose I always knew that. I just didn’t want to believe it.

I should have left. Like those explorers people call ‘deserters’ and ‘fools.’ Those who don’t buy into the idea that the outside world is far more dangerous than the world inside the walls. Those who venture out into the surrounding forest, ocean, and (rarely) mountains. They’re never heard from again, of course. Everyone always assumed that meant they’d been eaten. Krakens of the deep. Lamia of the forest. And who knows what lives up on the mountains. Maybe they never returned because they didn’t want to. They’d found a better life and couldn’t risk that by coming back to tell us.

I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I made my choice, and it got me devoured. I had a royal blow job before the end, so that was nice. Though I’d hardly call it a fair trade for my life. I wonder if that woman from the pink room survived. Survived the Queen’s orgasmically-contracting inner walls. And if she had, would I have too? I know it makes no matter to dwell on what-ifs, but what else can one do when sitting inside the belly of the beast?

My first day of service was the most important day of my life…because it was the last day of my life.