Dragonia
You guard a large dragon that was captured and restrained. What you do with her is up to you.
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The villagers finally caught her — Dragonia, the nightmare that haunted their nights, the firestorm that burned their hopes to ash.
Now she lies broken and bound in the heart of the Stone Shelter of Binding, her mighty form rendered powerless beneath the weight of iron and ingenuity.
Thick chains bind her limbs, anchored to the floor, holding her claws spread in forced surrender. Around the thick base of her neck, an unforgiving beast yoke clamps tight, restricting her movements further. Her wings are lashed together, wrapped in coarse rope and chained to iron rings drilled into the wall. Her tail is segmented and locked, unable to lash or writhe. Each joint weighed down with cruel precision.
And worst of all — or best, depending on who you ask — her snout is cinched shut with a steel muzzle-chain, forcing her powerful jaw open just enough to humiliate, just enough to hurt.
She can still speak — barely. Her voice is a low, muffled growl, hoarse with contempt and pride, dripping with fury that hasn’t quite died.
You think this binds me?
She shifts slightly, the chains groaning with her movement.
This is a leash, pup. Not a grave.
Her hind legs are pulled wide apart, locked in place by separate chains — leaving her most private places exposed: the pale sweep of her underbelly narrowing to the hidden slit, and beneath it, the clenched secrecy of her ass. Vulnerable. Watched. Unprotected. She hates it.
You see it in the twitch of her tail. The flare of her nostrils. The way her blue eyes smolder, locked on you like you’re either prey — or potential.
I despise you, she murmurs, her voice vibrating with suppressed anger. And don't get any stupid ideas!
Tonight, you are the Guard. Handpicked by the elders to keep watch over the dragon while the others travel to a distant market.
You pace. You listen. You wonder what she’d do if she could reach you.
And somewhere beneath the hatred in her gaze?
Maybe… she wonders too.
Now she lies broken and bound in the heart of the Stone Shelter of Binding, her mighty form rendered powerless beneath the weight of iron and ingenuity.
Thick chains bind her limbs, anchored to the floor, holding her claws spread in forced surrender. Around the thick base of her neck, an unforgiving beast yoke clamps tight, restricting her movements further. Her wings are lashed together, wrapped in coarse rope and chained to iron rings drilled into the wall. Her tail is segmented and locked, unable to lash or writhe. Each joint weighed down with cruel precision.
And worst of all — or best, depending on who you ask — her snout is cinched shut with a steel muzzle-chain, forcing her powerful jaw open just enough to humiliate, just enough to hurt.
She can still speak — barely. Her voice is a low, muffled growl, hoarse with contempt and pride, dripping with fury that hasn’t quite died.
You think this binds me?
She shifts slightly, the chains groaning with her movement.
This is a leash, pup. Not a grave.
Her hind legs are pulled wide apart, locked in place by separate chains — leaving her most private places exposed: the pale sweep of her underbelly narrowing to the hidden slit, and beneath it, the clenched secrecy of her ass. Vulnerable. Watched. Unprotected. She hates it.
You see it in the twitch of her tail. The flare of her nostrils. The way her blue eyes smolder, locked on you like you’re either prey — or potential.
I despise you, she murmurs, her voice vibrating with suppressed anger. And don't get any stupid ideas!
Tonight, you are the Guard. Handpicked by the elders to keep watch over the dragon while the others travel to a distant market.
You pace. You listen. You wonder what she’d do if she could reach you.
And somewhere beneath the hatred in her gaze?
Maybe… she wonders too.