Patreon Compilation – Fic#262 – Aymeric/Estinien – FFXIV – Part 2/2 – nun!Aymeric; dragon!villain!Estinien; dragon cock; partial transformation; lingerie – In The Dragon's Clutches 2 (Patreon)

Aymeric/Estinien – Estinien has brought his prize back into his lair where he has his way with the pretty nun.

Part 1 (Patreon Link)

Part 2 (This Part)

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They do not travel for too long, though that is to be attributed to the fact that Estinien opens a portal in the fabric of time and space and pulls Aymeric through the crackling energy before he can even realize what is happening.

One moment they are in the sacred forest, fleeing from Aymeric’s dutiful guards… the next, they are stepping into the darkness of a cave.

Aymeric inhales shakily. He tries to rip his wrist out from Estinien’s grip but the dragon holds him securely.

“Do not be afraid my little treat,” Estinien purrs. “I will keep you… treasured. No harm shall come upon your gorgeous little head. Not a hair will be harmed…”

As he speaks, he gently tugs Aymeric forward. It only slowly occurs to the nun, as his eyes adjust to the dim lighting around him, that they are not, in fact, in a cave but in some form of huge, marbled room.

He can barely see anything that is going on in the darkness behind massive pillars that vanish somewhere high above. All he can make out is what they are walking towards; another altar, so similar to the one he had been sent to tonight, yet so different. It looks smooth and perfect… kept in a pristine condition with marvelous statues of… of dragons flanking it.

Estinien comes to a halt in front of the altar, his hand slowly sliding along its smooth marble top.

Aymeric watches him, instantly mesmerized by the sharp claws that Estinien’s nails end in. He is startled out of his reverie by the dragon suddenly whirling toward him and grasping him by the hips.

He is deposited on the marble altar, the cold instantly seeping through his thin robes, though it becomes manageable once Estinien steps close, gently forcing him to spread his knees around the dragon’s waist.

Estinien’s hand touches his cheek, his thumb pressing against his lips through the thin veil Aymeric is still wearing.

The dragon looks directly into his eyes. Aymeric is… captivated. He can still hear the words of His Holiness, beseeching him, whispering the ancient prayer into his ears almost nightly. He had thought these teachings had been what had given power to his childish imagination, conjuring up this very creature whispering to him… trying to entice him to… to…

“You are so beautiful, my little treat… my gorgeous little pet…”

Aymeric feels his veil slowly being lifted but can’t find it in him to fight against it. He keeps staring into Estinien’s eyes, watching how their slit pupils blow wide once his mouth comes into view.

The dragon is very gentle as he kisses him. Surprisingly so. He seems to just want to breathe into Aymeric. Fill him up warm and intimate and so soft that it makes Aymeric wonder why His Holiness had always cautioned him to be wary of such advances when they feel so… so…

Estinien pulls back again. His features look… different, somehow. His skin looks rougher around the edges of his face and behind the lips of his panting mouths are a myriad of sharp points to be seen.

The dragon is looking down, watching himself slowly part the slit of Aymeric’s dress yet again. He grasps his knee, then slides his hand along his thigh, feeling up the silk of the stockings Aymeric has donned for tonight’s procedures.

They seem to utterly fascinate the other. Back in the sacred forest he had been playing with the strap holding them up and unerringly his fingers find their way back to it; testing its elasticity and letting it snap against Aymeric’s skin. It’s more the loud sound of it than the mild sting that makes him jump, a gasp stuck in his throat.

Estinien is back on him, then. His kiss is less… pure this time around. He presses against Aymeric’s mouth until he has to submit and lean back a little, his hands coming up to grasp at the dragon’s thick leather armor. He is shocked about the tongue touched to his lips but all his confused squawk gets him is an even deeper thrust of tongue that fills him with electricity and fire.

Aymeric whimpers; he can’t help himself. He can feel the dragon… he can feel him move into him. Fill him up. Is he going to cast a spell on him as well? Is he going to take over Aymeric’s every thought and corrupt him?

The feeling of the little strap being gently unhooked from his underwear is almost an afterthought. He does not really think of it until Aymeric’s hand deftly slides to the back of his thigh, taking a brief moment to tickle his silky skin, then unhooks that strap as well.

Aymeric pulls away. His lips are wet and feel swollen. He lifts a shaking hand, touching fingertips to his mouth as he stares at Estinien – though his gaze keeps shying away to the side; sliding off the Dragon’s face without really thinking about it.

As Estinien unhooks the other straps, he grabs Aymeric’s jaw with his free hand, fingers digging into his cheeks.

“Look at me,” he growls.

Aymeric gasps, eyes snapping toward Estinien. He is changing; even before his very eyes, scales are starting to creep across his face and horns are growing longer from his forehead.

“Look at me while I breed you. While I fuck you. While I make you mine and take you away from that ludicrous little Archbishop.”

Aymeric can hear the rip of his underwear before he feels the cool air against his skin. He stiffens, hands bracing against Estinien’s chest without any hope of pushing the Dragon away.

“Look at me, little nun,” Estinien continues, voice gone a little more soft. “Look at me and listen to my words.”

A man must gaze not upon the eyes of a dragon.

A man must harken not the words of a dragon.

Aymeric stares at Estinien’s unflinching gaze, hypnotized by the sulfuric yellow of his eyes, listening to his rumbling, commanding voice even as he whispers ‘no’.

The Dragon’s cock feels… big. And wet. Is it customary to be this large? This hot? This rough? Aymeric does not know. He has never… he would never…

But he is. There is nowhere for him to go but spread his legs wider and somehow alleviate the insane pressure as the Dragon slides into him and takes his purity away from him once and for all.

Estinien leans forward, forcing Aymeric back on the Dragon’s altar, his arms secure around his charge to not let him hurt himself while he rams deeper into his body, the low grunts accompanying his effort rumbling through Aymeric almost harder than the cock that is spearing into his guts.

His legs are in the air behind Estinien; he has lost all autonomy over his own body as his insides are made into fire by the Dragon’s spear. It scrapes against his no-longer-virginal rim, odd ridges and bumps that Aymeric’s own cock certainly does not possess.

They edge his nerves into a Hellish blaze that roars through his body and burns every rational thought out of his head.

All that he sees in front his wide open eyes is Estinien’s dancing gaze, yellow and intense – and all he hears are the dragon’s growling words.

“I think I shall drop you off with your guards like this; your delicious milky legs splayed and my semen dripping from your ruined hole. Let them try to figure out whether I put my egg into their beautiful little nun. Let them try to figure out how to get it out of your womb without destroying you in the process.”

He fucks Aymeric like the beast that he is; ruthless and harsh, the nun’s legs bouncing in the air behind him like a common whore as his insides are re-arranged by Estinien’s mighty Dragon cock.

He keeps kissing Aymeric. Keeps sucking whatever little shred of breath he can gain right out of his lungs as he fucks him so deep that the nun would swear upon the Archbishop he can feel him pushing up from behind his navel.

His words don’t make any sense to his cooking brain… and yet they do.

Aymeric is holding on to Estinien as if he were a lifeline. He’s been his shadow for so long… whispering sweet little nothings through the tiny window of his equally tiny bedroom in the church – it feels so right that he is now here. Devouring him. Fucking a nice big Dragon egg into his guts and making him into a whore and his mate in one fell swoop.

Oh how dreadfully easy it is to make Aymeric forget everything he had ever been taught.

Oh why, oh why, is it so much more fun and exciting to spread his legs for a Dragon than it is to listen neat and sweet to the Archbishop?

Something… is not right in the church.