Red Dragon

Episode I The Corsair

Chapter 23 The Dragon Awakes

Shasara stumbled forward as she was prodded from behind. Ahead of her Vayasha and Che Sha haltingly made their way down the dungeon corridor. The weight of chain each of them was carrying made walking difficult. Their attempt to rescue the Red Dragon could not have been less successful. They had been in the dungeon cell that Malvin had tricked them into for only a few minutes before several armed guards had shown up at the grating ten feet above them. They had been ordered to throw down their weapons. They had refused, of course, but when the guards above them pointed out how easy it would be to pour boiling water on their heads, they had changed their minds.

As soon as their weapons had left their hands their ordeal had begun. The door to the cell had been opened a tiny amount. From above a command had been shouted. “Alright, now out! One at a time. The dark haired one first.” Looking to the source of the voice they could see that several crossbows were now trained on them. They were caught like lobsters in a pot. Bravely Che Sha had gone to the door and squeezed through the narrow opening. Outside, she had been seized by a several waiting soldiers. She thought about resisting, but realized that she was hopelessly outnumbered.

She was not bound, but marched a short distance down the corridor to a place where the stone hallway opened out into a small room. There were over a dozen heavily armed men waiting there for her. “All this manpower,” she thought, “just to capture three women. They must be really afraid of us.”

“Over here, you slant-eyed bitch,” ordered one of the soldiers. By his insignia Che Sha realized that he was a sergeant. He pointed to the middle of the room. “Now, strip. And do it fast or we’ll do it for you. And don’t think we wouldn’t enjoy doing that.” The surrounding men laughed.

Che Sha looked from face to face but saw no sympathy in the eyes of any of the men, only an undisguised lust. Controlling her fear, she first removed her sash and then unlaced her corset. Discarding the outer garment she slowly began to undo the ties of her blouse. Once by one she loosened them, allowing her blouse to fall open. “Nice set of tits,” commented the sergeant. “And a hard flat belly. I like that.”

“Kind of like taking a little girl to bed ain’t it, Rethon?” jibed a second soldier. “I like a little more meat on ‘em myself.”

“All the same,” said another soldier, “I wouldn’t toss her out of my bunk. She’d be worth a silver piece.”

Che Sha coloured as the crowd of soldiers discussed her merits. For an instant she considered defying her captors, but another look at their lust-filled faces made her realize that they would welcome any chance to rip the clothes off her body themselves. She continued to undress, pulling her blouse out of her pants and sliding it from her body, leaving her naked to the waist. Then she removed her sash and her boots. As each item of clothing was removed more lewd comments were made about her supple curves. Finally she was down to her trousers. Here she hesitated, acutely aware of the vulgar stares of the surrounding men.

Rethon stepped forward. “Need help there, bitch? I’ll give you a hand.” Before Che Sha could respond he grabbed the hem of her trousers and yanked them down. Che Sha’s training kicked in. Without conscious thought, she struck out, the palm of her hand slamming into the sergeant’s face. The force of the blow should have shattered his nose, but Rethon was still wearing his helmet. The heel of her hand struck his nose guard, bending the metal, but saving his nose. Still, the soldier bled like a stuck pig, blood streaming from his nostrils.

The remaining soldiers closed on Che Sha. There was little she could do to defend herself. They came at her from all sides, and her trousers were around her knees. Her arms and legs were seized and she was lifted off the ground. Helpless in the hands of so many strong men, Che Sha felt the rest of her clothing torn from her body, then they simply held on to her while she struggled wildly to escape.

Rethon lurched forward, his face a mask of anger. “Spread the bitch,” he roared, “I’m gonna take her right here!”

“Can’t do that sarge,” said one of the other soldiers interposing himself between he red-faced sergeant and Che Sha. “The Duke would have your balls. He said they was to be brought to him untouched.”

“Damn the…” started Rethon, and then remembering that he was about to curse his duke in front of his most loyal soldiers, he stopped. “Alright,” he said finally. “Then chain the bitch and fetch the next one.” Wiping blood from his face, he moved aside to let his men go for the next prisoner.

Shasara came next. She walked proudly, her head held high. When she strode into the room she looked each man in the eye, almost as if she was daring them to attack her.

By this time, Che Sha had been securely chained. She was on her knees in one corner of the room, covered in sweat and panting from the exertion of her struggle with the soldiers. Bruises marked her face, arms and breasts. Heavy shackles had been placed on each of her ankles and connected with thick links of chain. Her wrists had been similarly manacled and chained in front of her. A thick iron collar had been locked about her slender neck and connected to the manacles on her wrists by two other lengths of chain. The weight of chain the soldiers had used could easily have been used to tow a fully laden wagon.

Shasara absorbed all of this in a glance. If she was horrified at what had been done to the Shang princess she did not show it, instead her eyes narrowed and her mouth was set in a straight line. Che Sha had seen that look before. “No Shasara,” she said in Silvani, “do not resist. These men are beasts. They will welcome the chance to beat and humiliate you. Better you do not give them that satisfaction.”

“Shut up you Shang mongrel,” said Rethon. He understood nothing of what had been said, but he did not want the prisoners conversing with one another. He turned to Shasara. “Strip,” he ordered. He had no epithet for silver haired woman that stood in front of him. He was a bit taken aback by her beauty. He had never seen anyone like her before. Even in the flickering light of the dungeon torches, Shasara’s hair shone like liquid silver. Her perfect skin was unblemished and tanned by several months at sea and a life in the outdoors. Eyes of piercing blue stared unflinchingly into his and were set above high cheekbones a straight nose, and full, kissable lips. As she turned her head her exotic slightly pointed ears were revealed.

Rethon was unable to meet the steely gaze of the Silvani ranger. Dropping his eyes, he repeated his command. “Strip.” He took a step toward her. With a look of distain, Shasara’s hands went to the ties at the top of her corset. If it could be said that a woman stripped with dignity, it would have been a description of Shasara’s disrobing. She removed her corset, and then took off her sash before loosening each tie on her blouse, revealing her high, perfect breasts. Beneath her clothes, her skin was the colour of ivory, and smoother than satin. A murmur of approval went up from the assembled soldiers. Each pink tipped breast was so firm that it hardly quivered as she dropped her blouse to the floor.

“By the gods, I’d like to suck on those,” said one of the men. Almost as if on a signal the rest of the assembled soldiers chimed in with comments on Shasara’s anatomy, and what they would like to do to it. Shasara acted as if she was undressing in the privacy of her room. Not a blush, not a tremor showed that she even noticed any of the men about her. Inside, however, the forest dweller was fighting hard to maintain her calm exterior. Her heart was beating so fast that she was sure the men around her would be able to hear its pounding. A chunk of lead seemed to fill her stomach, and she feared that she might faint from the tension of keeping her self control. She could feel a rivulet of sweat running down her backbone. But she finished the job. Finally, she stepped out of her trousers and stood revealed in her nakedness.

“Nice tight ass,” commented Rethon. He almost reached out a hand to touch the sylvan goddess standing in front of him, but stopped just short of her body. “Chain her,” he ordered. As the men closed about her to do the sergeant’s bidding Rethon bellowed down the hall. “Send out the last bitch.”

A few seconds later, Vayasha was escorted into the room. The younger forest maiden blanched when she saw the fate of her sister and Che Sha, but held herself proud and erect as Shasara had. “Do not resist, Vayasha,” said Shasara. “Pretend that they are not here, but do as they say.”

Vayasha nodded. At the order to strip, she calmly followed her sister’s example. The usual chorus of coarse comments followed her as her garments dropped to the floor. In the year since she had met Melissa she had matured. Her pert breasts were now almost as large as Shasara’s and equally firm. A little bit of the child still remained in her slender build, but her curves were filling out, resulting in a body of exquisite beauty. As she stood in the cold air of the dungeon her nipples stiffened. Several of the men watching her licked their lips unconsciously. The eyes of the soldiers who surrounded her seemed to bore into her like gimlets. Naked and frightened she did her best to follow Shasara’s advice. But she trembled as the soldiers seized her and chained her like her companions.

“Scared little girl?” Rethon sneered. “You’ll soon have more than enough reason to be afraid.” He gripped the chain about her neck. “Now march. “I think the Duke has something special planned for you.”

Dragging their chains, the three maidens complied. They were escorted through a maze of corridors beneath the palace, some of them part of the dungeon, and others part of the foundations. The route chosen seemed quite random. Shasara and Vayasha, who had acute senses of direction, were certain that they doubled back at least a half dozen times. It became clear after awhile that being forced to march naked in the damp and cold of the palace foundations was part of their ordeal. Compounded by being forced to carry a weight of chain that came close to two-thirds of their body weights, each of the young women was soon gasping for breath.

Shasara looked at the sergeant. The cruel smile he gave her confirmed her suspicions. Hefting her chains, she plodded on, trying not to show her weariness and fear. Sooner or later her captors would tire of their game. But that was not something she especially welcomed. It was almost certain that when she and her companions were taken before the Duke, being forced to carry chains around a dungeon would seem slight punishment indeed. With pounding heart and a body trembling with exhaustion, she stumbled on. Just ahead of her she heard Che Sha grunt with the effort as she was directed up a stairway. Ignoring the pain in her legs, she followed. A door opened at the top of the stairs and the three women were forced into a large room. Ahead of her, she heard Che Sha and Vayasha gasp. The ranks parted and she saw what had made the other two women catch their breath. “Melissa!” she said.

Melissa tried to raise her head. But she was near unconsciousness. She was strapped to the wheel, her body stretched so tightly that she was certain her arms and legs had been partly torn from their sockets. Rey had kept her there since the Duke had left. Short of tearing her limb from limb Rey had used every trick he knew to get her to talk. Her body was crisscrossed with the bloody welts of dozens of lashes, most of them across her breasts and belly. Her vagina ached from another encounter with the pear, and Rey had hung heavy weights from each of her nipples. But nothing had made her tell him where the treasure was buried.

Again and again he had asked her the same question. “Where have you buried the treasure? Tell me where.’

Even when in the most acute agony she had always given him the same answer. “There is no buried treasure.” That had only made him the more furious. When seized with that sort of anger, Rey had resorted to the lash. As he was with most instruments of torture, Rey was a master with the whip. He could strike any part of her body that he chose, and her breasts and belly had been his favourite target. Now he had beaten her until she was almost senseless. But even when barely able to speak Melissa’s answer had not charged. “There is no buried treasure.”

“You will tell me,” said Rey, “and soon.” He was almost frothing at the mouth in frustration. If Melissa could have smiled she would. Answering the way she did was her own private joke; something to keep her going. It stemmed from the fact that Rey did not have the imagination to suppose that Melissa could have disposed of the treasure any other way except digging a hole and hiding it in the ground. In actual fact, Melissa and the three girls had loaded their share of the treasure into a small boat and dumped it into the ocean.

They had chosen the hiding place well. It was just offshore in water that was deep enough to keep it hidden at low tide, but still accessible when they wanted to retrieve it. Even the other pirates had been fooled. When Melissa and her companions had rowed around to the far side of the island from the ship, they all supposed that they had taken it ashore and buried it on the beach; after all they had taken shovels with them. But they had not. They had found a distinctive rock and tossed the treasure into the sea. As Melissa had pointed out, water would not hurt silver and gold. But the Duke had been told that the treasure was buried on the beach by disloyal members of the crew. Melissa had expected that to happen. After all, pirates were not really to be trusted. And she had laughed when she had returned to add to her horde and seen that most of the beach had been dug up.

The Duke had been misinformed and passed on the misinformation to Rey. And that had kept the location secret. Because certainly, in her agony and delirium, Melissa would have told him of the treasure if he had just asked the right question. But he had not, and so he readied his hot irons. Everything he had tried so far had failed, but perhaps when the Red Dragon felt the pain of white hot iron, she would change her mind.

“Almost ready, my lovely,” said Rey. “Almost ready. I don’t think you are asleep, but if you are then I am sure you will wake up when I use these.” He drew one of the irons from the brazier. It was almost blinding in its intensity. “Yes, this looks ready. Let’s give it a try.”

“Hold! The voice was the Duke’s.

Rey turned. “But your Excellency, I was almost ready to deliver my piece de resistance. I’m sure it would have gotten the information out of her.”

“Save your irons, Rey. You may yet get to use them, but perhaps on different victims.” The Duke spoke quite jovially. Rey was hard-pressed to see any sort of joke. And then he saw the reason for the change in the Duke’s mood.

Through the door of the dungeon came three of the most beautiful women Rey had ever seen. Each rivaled the Red Dragon, though all were quite different from her. The girls, for all of them were only a few years into womanhood, were laden with chains. Rey had never seen prisoners so heavily shackled, and they moved only with great difficulty, all of them clearly on the verge of collapse.

“I have here the Red Dragon’s companions. Exquisite, are they not? Can you imagine the pleasure of having these three beauties to yourself in addition to the Red Dragon?

Rey’s eyes widened at the thought, and he licked his wide lips. The Duke laughed. “Yes,” he said, “I can see that you can.” He turned his gaze to Melissa. “Is she conscious? If not revive her.”

Melissa was conscious. The arrival of the Duke followed by those she held most dear had snapped her out of her reverie. Her green eyes wide, she watched in horror as her three companions were marched into the dungeon.

The Duke stood in front off her. “The game is up, dragon whore. Now you will tell me what I want to know or you will see your companions taken to the rack and torn limb from limb.”

Melissa said nothing. She knew that she had lost, but some forlorn hope kept her from giving in. The Duke turned to his guards. “Unchain the older silver-haired one and suspend her from the ceiling. I want to warm her up first.”

Melissa watched in horror as Shasara was unchained and dragged forward. A number of chains hung from the ceiling, and the Silvani maiden’s wrists were locked into these so that she was forced to stand on her tiptoes, her arms stretched over her head. Shasara said nothing as she was hung helpless from the chins, but for the first time a flicker of fear passed over her perfect features. She had seen the hot irons.

The Duke looked the sylvan beauty up and down. A look of undisguised lust swept over his face. “You choose well in your companions, dragon bitch. I doubt that there are a comelier bunch of maidens anywhere in the dukedom. And they are maidens are they not?”

Shasara gasped as the Duke ran his hands down her body. She was sweating profusely from the effort of lugging the chains, but not all the droplets on her body were from exertion. A cold chill filled her soul as for the first time she felt a man’s hands sweep over her exquisite body.

The Duke’s hands probed her nether region. Shasara set her jaw as the Duke slid one large finger over her vulva and then parting her lower lips, pushed it into her. “A maiden, as I said,” exulted the Duke. “But not for long I assure you.” He looked into Shasara’s eyes and was taken aback by her calm stare. “She is a quiet one,” he said. “Let’s see if we can’t get her to make some noise.” Moving over the brazier he took out one of the white hot irons.

“Now,” mused the Duke, “where shall we begin? Perhaps I will inscribe the ducal crest on her breasts. But I will not burn the nipples I want to play with those later.” Raising the iron he moved it towards Shasara’s quivering breasts.

“NO!” Melissa’s shout reverberated throughout the dungeon. She had called on her last reserves of strength to make that call, but it got the desired result.

“No?” asked the Duke. “And why not? I see no reason to stop.”

“I will tell you of the treasure,” said Melissa, hanging her head, “but you must promise me one thing.”

“You are not really in a position to bargain, dragon bitch. Why should I promise you anything?”

“Because,” said Melissa raising her head and looking directly into the Duke’s eyes, “I believe that when I tell you about the treasure, you will rape and torture all of us. Since I have nothing to lose by dying the way you intend me to die, then I will tell you nothing unless you make me one promise.”

“And that is?” asked the Duke.

“Do what you want with me, but release my companions unharmed. They know nothing of the treasure. I did not take them with me when I took it to its final location. If I refuse to tell you where it is you will never find it, and they will be able to tell you nothing.”

Shasara opened her mouth to protest, but Melissa silenced it. “Trust me!” she said in Silvani.

The duke thought a minute. “Alright. You have a bargain. Tell me where the treasure is and your companions go free.”

“I want your word of honour,” Melissa insisted.

“I have just given it,” said the Duke, his face turning red.

“Swear,” said Melissa.

“Damn you, dragon bitch, I swear. Now tell me what I want to know.” He returned the iron to the brazier.

Melissa told him, leaving out no details. She spoke to the Duke alone, as he did not trust any of his men to hear, including Rey. When she had finished he nodded. “You are a woman of honour,” he said. “I believe you. I shall depart tomorrow to find my treasure. But first a little pleasure.” He gestured towards Shasara’s helpless form. “Guards, take her down and spread her for me. I want to introduce her to the ways of men.”

“But you promised! You gave your word of honour!” Melissa protested. “Your own soldiers bore witness!”

“I promised not to harm any of them,” answered the Duke, calmly. His lip curled as he leered at Shasara. “Surely you do not consider being honoured by a duke as harm?” He turned to the assembled soldiers. “What think you? Would not my deflowering of this maiden pay her the greatest tribute?”

A hearty laugh went up from the dozen or so guards. They clearly enjoyed the way the Duke had outwitted the Red Dragon.

“You see, dragon bitch. There can be no harm when a duke takes a pirate whore. I am sure your silver-haired companion will enjoy this as much as I do.”

Shasara struggled helplessly as she was taken down from the chains. She had remained composed until now, but the horror of the situation now overwhelmed her. She was to be raped in front of her younger sister and other companions. She fought wildly, twisting and heaving her body in a desperate but futile attempt to break free.

She was held by four men, each much stronger that she was. They laughed at her frantic efforts, enjoying her obvious fear and the erotic writhing of her sweating body. They held her until she was exhausted, and then as the Duke had ordered spread her legs.

Duke Roland was ready. He had already freed his engorged shaft from his trousers and advanced upon her. The fear and revulsion on the face of his victim stiffened his member. The thought of ravishing the frightened virgin had him more excited than he had been since he had raped the Red Dragon. And there were two more virgins to go. He would rape them also, and then the Red Dragon once more. After that he would turn them over to his men and have the three girls gang raped in front of the red-haired bitch. Only then would he have her taken to the public square and publicly tortured and executed.

All of these thoughts pulsed through his mind as stepped up to his silver-haired victim. He watched the exotic silver-haired beauty’s eyes widen in terror as he moved between her legs. He reached out and gripped her thighs. Pulling back slightly he prepared to drive into her. He was going to go in hard and deep in order to cause maximum pain.

He almost jumped out of his skin at the noise that came from behind him. Never had he heard so terrible a sound. For a second he forgot about the inviting pink nether lips of the silver-haired girl. He turned his head in the direction of the Red Dragon.

His erection shriveled. The redheaded pirate turned a gaze on him that froze him in his place. Green fire blazed from her eyes, but it was another aspect of her naked body that stunned and terrified him. The strange dragon tattoo was moving on its own. For a brief instant, Duke Roland thought that it was some trick of the light, but as he watched the tattoo not only moved, but began to expand. The red scales of the mythical beast multiplied, spreading over all of her torso and then moving along her arms and down her pelvis to her legs. The head changed position. Shifting up from between her breasts to her neck and then to her face. And then the woman’s body began to change.

The several dozen soldiers in the dungeon cried out in horror and amazement, but it was Che Sha who spoke. The dragon has quickened,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “For the first time in a thousand years a dragon has quickened.”

Vashaya looked at the Shang princess in bewilderment. Then her eyes went back to Melissa. Something incredible was happening. Something incredible and terribly frightening.

Solon Rey’s mouth was as dry as toast. Of all the people in the dungeon, he was closest to the Red Dragon. What he saw filled him with horror and indescribable terror. Before his eyes the woman’s body was twisting out of shape. The arms and legs thickened and grew longer. The torso became more massive and powerfully developed, the beautiful breasts shrinking into the expanding tissue. The powerfully muscled arms and legs flexed, and the chains holding her to the wheel snapped like pieces of rotten string. She dropped from the wheel, landing on her hind feet.

Hind feet, the phrase made no sense, but he looked again. The redheaded pirate no longer existed. In her place was a creature of myth and legend. A shining red dragon. Rey tried to take a backward step, but his terror rooted him to the spot.

The dragon reared itself high, and shook its wings free. The beast stood three times the height of a man, and had to crouch to avoid striking its head on the dungeon’s vaulted ceiling. Its wings unfolded like those of some immense bat stretching a full thirty feet from wingtip to wingtip. A long barbed tail whipped along the floor behind it, smashing the wheel and scattering its debris like so much kindling.

Slowly, the dragon turned its glittering emerald eyes in his direction. Its mouth slowly opened revealing row after row of glistening white teeth. Rey felt a warm wetness between his legs. This could not be happening. What had happened to his victim? Where had this mythical beast come from? And then the monster spoke. Rey almost collapsed; the voice was that of the Red Dragon.

“Solon Rey,” it hissed, “your cruelty is at an end. No more will you find amusement in the terror and agony of those placed at your mercy. Now you die.”

Rey opened his mouth in blind terror as the great horned head snaked toward. And then the terrible rending teeth closed on his body. He screamed horribly as the knifelike teeth sliced into his body. The dragon tossed him into the air like a cat playing with a mouse. He was still alive and shrieking in pain and terror as it caught him on the way down, and bit him in half. With two gulps it swallowed his twitching body and then it turned its glowing green eyes toward the Duke.

Duke Roland looked at the door of the dungeon. One thought blotted out all others in his mind. Escape! He had to reach that door. Without even bothering to do up his pants he broke for the door. His panic stricken flight triggered off a mass movement of every man in the room toward the single exit. A tangled throng clogged the only escape route, soldier fighting with soldier to be the next out of the dungeon. The Duke found his way blocked by the very men who were supposed to protect him.

His mouth dry with fear he turned to look at the dragon. To his relief, it had not moved, but its glittering stare transfixed him the way a mouse is paralyzed by the gaze of a cobra. He stood, rooted to the spot, sweat dampening his clothing, his bowels loosening in abject terror. The dragon spoke. “Duke Roland,” it intoned in the eerie voice of the woman he had thought to torture to death, “you have terrorized, murdered, and betrayed your own people for too long. For those crimes, and the murder of my father you are sentenced to burn in eternal fire.”

The baleful eyes blazed even more brightly and then from the dragon’s mouth shot a jet of fire. The liquid flame shot across the dungeon, engulfing the Duke and turning him into a living torch. The Duke’s screech of agony echoed through the dungeon, as he staggered toward the dragon, his arms outspread as if seeking to embrace her. And then with whimper he dropped to the floor, his body blazing as if it were made of paraffin.

The dungeon was empty, save the dragon and the three bewildered young women. Shasara picked herself up from the floor of the dungeon, where the Duke’s soldiers had dropped her when they fled. Uncertainly, she moved toward the huge, menacing, reptilian beast that dominated the room. “Melissa?” she asked hesitantly in an almost childlike voice.

The dragon swung its enormous head toward her. If a dragon could be said to smile, this one did. “Do not worry, Shasara,” said Melissa’s voice, “you are safe now. Free Che Sha and Vayasha. We have no need to stay here any longer.”

Shasara rushed to do the dragon’s bidding. She could still hardly believe that the beast existed. She used some of the tools on the benches holding Rey’s instruments of torture and in a few minutes had her sister and Che Sha free. Then they gathered up their clothing from where the soldiers who had escorted them had dropped it. She also picked up the clothing that had been Melissa’s where Rey had folded it neatly on his workbench. Somehow she thought that it might be needed again.

The dragon watched placidly as the three girls got themselves ready. Shasara wondered how they were to escape from the dungeon. The doorway was far too small for the dragon to exit that way. She needn’t have wondered. The dragon did not need a door. Warning them back, the dragon flew straight up and tore a great hole in the roof of the dungeon. Once the blocks of stone had stopped falling the strange creature helped them through the escape route it had created. They found themselves in a large room on the ground floor of the palace. It was but the work of a few seconds for the dragon to demolish one of the outer walls and lead them into the courtyard. As they exited the building, a few soldiers braver than the rest approached, but after one look from the dragon’s fierce eyes and they dropped their weapons and ran for their lives.

The dragon extended a wing like a ramp. “Get up on me, and hold tight,” she said. With some trepidation the three women climbed into place at the base of the sinuous neck and just before the gigantic wings. Shasara clutched at the sharp spines that ran down the neck, and Vayasha held onto her, wrapping her arms about her sister. Che Sha similarly held onto Vayasha.

With a few downward beats of its wings, the dragon rose into the air. It flew uncertainly at first, and then gaining confidence flew more strongly, rising swiftly above Slandor. The dragon then flew in a wide arc, circling the city. For generations thereafter the people of the ducal capital would speak of the day when the dragon came and the power of the evil duke destroyed. And then the dragon pointed itself toward the sea.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER WIZARD'S LAIR MAIN PAGE L'ESPION'S STORY PAGE NEXT CHAPTER