Over Easy [Sketch]
Yip! Customer came to me with the prompt "my friend is letting me borrow her dragon, and I got the idea to get her forcibly knocked up & annoyed but turned on by having to shove an egg out afterwards". So here that is!
Y'all know I don't do hard NC/rape, so this was a fun twist on it. Also I'm always down to write more huge insertions/eversions, although unfortunately there's not really enough word count within one sketch to really dig into it like I like.
But anyway! Hi, my commission queue is almost empty! Sketches like this go for $35 flat and full stories start at $200ish! Send me a note!
Another wave of powerful, overwhelming sensation slammed into the dragon, sending her against the brick wall beside her. Her breath puffed out in one quick, rough blast, then sucked in as another gasp immediately after – and this time shivered out from between clenched teeth, the sweat beading out along velvet skin between the plates of her scales, nearly every muscle in her body tightening at the same time. Her claws dug into her palms, her shoulders squeezed in at her chest, her legs crossed, her toes curled… and then, blissfully, the sensation receded again, leaving her shivering, trembling, panting, dripping – with more than just sweat and drool.
Her clothing lay in a pile somewhere further back in the alley, after the first burst of contractions had let her know that this stiff, solid weight that had pressed out at the inside of her guts for the past however long was about to make its way on out. The shock, the adrenaline, still pumped through her system, leaving her tingly and shaking as she managed to push herself off from the wall again; then annoyance began to bubble deep inside with the frustration of not foreseeing this, and then-
-then Exura groaned out as another contraction pounded through her, this one strong enough to send the dragon to her knees. Her hands scraped along the ground of the alley, and the fur along her shoulders and back puffed out like rising hackles: eyes wrenched shut, jaw clenched, claws digging easily through the stone surface, her toes curled and her legs shook – and that pressure just now began to press its way out from inside, nerves and muscles pulling, stretching, expanding around the smooth surface.
Already it felt about the same size as a fist, and then a fist with another hand wrapped around it, and… Exura swallowed desperately, forced herself to exhale and take another breath, tried to relax her muscles, found that she literally couldn’t. Even though she forced her eyes open, staring down at the dusty, trash-strewn ground of the alleyway, the dragon saw almost nothing past the stars congealing at the fringes of her vision, the bright spots of white and colors building up from the constant strain, the pressure of this egg wedging itself out of her, every muscle within the walls of her womb pulling taut to dump it out of her.
If only this… had happened when…
That annoyance and frustration mixed together and ignited into exasperation, desperation… a little bit of arousal, even, as the dragon slid one hand down her naked body and between her legs. The lips of her sex stretched dangerously thin around the emerging egg, thick globs of slimy, sticky fluid oozing down, hanging in ropes over her fingers like congealed mucus, and even though each and every one of her nerves felt as though it was on fire, still the touch and the recognition sent a tingle of pleasure through her straining loins.
She had been on her way back after a long day out, following the familiar path by the river – which she might be able to hear from here, if not for the grating of her teeth and the inevitable grunts and groans, the huffs of her strain. For a while the dragon had thought she was being followed, but shrugged it off: this was a fairly big city, awake long into the night. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone else to be out that late. So she had continued on her way, doing whatever it was she had been doing, off in her own head – and then the arm had wrapped around her chest from behind with the other along her neck, squeezing so tight like the contractions of her body trying to shove this egg out.
Breath tight, heart pounding, teeth gritted, back then was much like what she felt now, except that night in the past, Exura hadn’t been the one to undress herself. She never saw who it was, or what species: there was just the sensation of the fierce, rough grip yanking her aside, pushing her down to the ground so that the grass smeared across her scales and fur, and then sharp claws pricking at the seat of her pants, slicing a hole so that fingers could then come in and tear the fabric apart, and then-
Then the dragon tossed her head back again and groaned out into the night, her desperate voice reverberating within the slender alleyway. She gasped, and panted, and groaned again, the egg wedged halfway out of her, holding there; these overextended rings of muscle made no response when she tried to clench, and each push felt as though it also brought no effect, to the point where she briefly thought she might have to press her hands down along her lower belly to try to force it out.
And just like right now, back then the first things to hit her had been frustration, rage, annoyance, and the dizzying, intoxicating swell of adrenaline as the stranger pushed her down again, lined themselves up, and then plunged deep inside of the dragon, deadly strong hands keeping her rear spread, hips thrusting fast and hard, forcing her past her warm-up limits, pain flooding across deep, humiliating pleasure.
I know I shouldn’t like this, she remembered thinking, face squished sideways in the dew-thick grass, but… at the same time… and now she felt the same way remembering it, knowing deep inside of her that this egg was the result of that night, of that stranger throwing her down, taking advantage of her, using her for their own pleasure, and then leaving that pleasure simmering inside of her, taking root… growing over time until she could no longer sleep on her side, and it became difficult to reach down and touch her toes, and going up and down stairs winded her more than it did before, and-
-and with another great, fiery pulse of swelling sensation, the egg finally slipped free from inside of her, the weight and pressure gone, the heat of its passage remaining. Relief like Exura had never before felt thrummed throughout her loins and, naked in the alley, she flumped forward with her gaping sex dripping across it, the protective film still coating the shell. Trembling, panting, she shifted to reach underneath herself with one hand, poked tentatively at her sensation-numb sex, felt the warmth of the exertion, the trickling heat of her forcibly-released bladder… the stretched, yawning lips of her sex, muscles refusing to respond no matter how hard she tried to clench. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and continued trying to catch her breath.
The gift that keeps on fuckin’ giving, huh?