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.