title: A Night With Cervantes aliases: [] tags: [FA] author: [Arnavon] id: [5213576] date: 星期五, 八月 26日 2022, 10:48:43 上午 modified: 星期三, 八月 31日 2022, 3:38:28 下午

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A Night With Cervantes

Author: Arnavon Source: A Night With Cervantes

“YIIIIIIIIIIIIIiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!” My sleep was instantly disturbed by the sound of a few shrill cries, feeling the ground beneath me shift and sway softly. Terrified and thoroughly disoriented from snapping to reality so suddenly, it took me a few moments to realize what was going on! I was sleeping on the sole of a monstrously proportioned dragon; the ground beneath me comprised of soft scales and softer flesh, surrounded by rolling hills and mounds from every curve and fold of his mighty sole. I was but one of many other identically dressed harem girls belonging to this dragon. He was not a beast, however. He spoke eloquently, his mind was filled with an inhuman intelligence and despite his size, he was a gorgeous sight to behold. His body firm yet lithe, powerful, yet smooth and curvaceous. Most women were volunteers to train how to please and pamper our lord, Cervantes, most particularly, his titanic feet. A person wasn’t even the size of one of those short, perfectly rounded, rune-etched claws that tipped each of his three, thick toes.

“EEEEEEEIIII!!” Another cry quickly snapped me into focus and had me scrambling to look over the edge of the foot I had been sleeping on; remembering the night before. He had been toying with us, as he was want to do each night, and had taken a particular liking to me, for whatever reason. Because of this, I was left alone to sleep on the upturned sole of his left foot, while the other eleven girls were to sleep together on his right. A post in the ground at the foot of the “bed”, which was comprised solely of a heap of silky pillows all strewn in one corner of his bed chamber, had us all stuck as always only able to go so far as Cervantes’ feet. Bound by thin, ethereal strands to the enchanted pole, I was helpless to watch as, for whatever reason, the dragon had lifted up the foot I had been sleeping on, and overlapped it on the sole of the other. In doing so, he was rolling the top of his gargantuan foot over the other harem girls.

I panicked at first, unable to make up my mind on what to do! I couldn’t just go down there to try and save them, I’d wind up in the exact same predicament; and I couldn’t approach him because of this damned chain!! I tugged and wriggled in a frantic attempt to free myself. All I served to do, however, was ring my own neck as the ethereal cord around it wouldn’t budge a single millimeter in any direction I tugged. I would surrender and again hear the cries from beneath my “bed” as the entire foot shifted once more to begin rubbing up and down his own sole with the top of his foot, no doubt smearing and grinding the girls below. I wasn’t able to tell whether the act had killed, or maimed my fellow servants, all I knew was I had to act!

Almost instinctively I began to rub into the sole beneath me. Crawling about on hands and knees I pressed with firm fingers into the impressively yielding flesh beneath me. It was impressive, because one would always assume that a dragon’s body was hard and ridged, covered with those armored scales. The scales along the soles of Cervantes’ feet, however, were soft and smooth, even bending here and there when dimpled or pressed upon. His feet were pillowy along the soles, which again was impressive when you considered the floor of his lair was almost entirely slated with hard marble. They were, however, dusty, almost constantly. Despite the efforts of me and my fellow Harem-girls to keep them clean, our hard work was almost always dashed within a matter of minutes whenever the dragon would pad off to tend to whatever it was dragons did with all of their spare time.

It was because the golden scales beneath me were darkened slightly with dust that I hesitated for only a moment before diving my nose in and began licking at the ball of his foot. I’d crawl about, as I had been before, beating with my tiny hands into the malleable flesh of the great dragon’s sole and rubbing my knees down in circular motions as I went along. I had always liked to consider myself quite skilled in this regard. Though it was never certain whether or not Cervantes really ever even felt us as individuals, at our size, or rather just one collective sensation when we worked together. Either way, I did know that I could feel the warm flesh of the dragon’s sole melt and soften beneath me as I worked.

Again and again I’d force myself to taste the bitter grime and dust collected on his soles from his day about the lair. I had grown accustomed to the taste by now. It was difficult to tell whether I had actually gotten used to the grit and grime, or if my ability to taste at all had been completely removed by this point. Either of which would concern me very little, all I lived for now was to serve, lick and worship for as long as I was allowed, or still breathing.

On occasion I’d hear a soft, muffled scream from beneath the mountain of flesh that comprised his foot, and feel the entire thing shift and move, rubbing still slowly up and down the curved span of his other sole from the toes below and up the slope to the heel, and down again. The motion in itself was almost nauseating after a while, and I was beginning to grow weary, uncertain if my work was getting me any closer to the dragon’s attention.

After perhaps fifteen, or twenty minutes pass of this, I’d begin to see an effect, though it wasn’t exactly what I had been hoping for. Indeed Cervantes had noticed my tireless efforts to worship his foot. He’d curl those gargantuan toes inward, causing the entire landscape of his sole to fold and ripple inward on itself. At my tiny size, it wasn’t difficult to be swallowed up entirely in one of the many creases formed along the ball of his foot. I’d wince and squirm about in an effort to try and pry and worm my way from the fold of his foot, only to be released seconds later when his toes unfurled gently. The entire surface of the sole would stretch back out again, and I’d be left laying face down on his sole, wheezing as I attempted to suck air into my pained lungs.

I’d not be given much time to recover, however, as Cervantes lifted his heel up slightly, causing the entire sole to point downward just enough to send me tumbling down toward his toes. End over end I’d roll dizzyingly down the pillowy underside of his foot until I finally settled in the cradle of the “arch” of one of his wide, thick digits. It was humbling to know that even the slightest shift and movement of Cervantes’ foot was enough to have me groaning in a heap. My bones feeling worn, my muscles tenderized and my skin bruised up and blackened in large patches from a mere curl of those massive toes. Now that I was cradled in his toes, the dragon did something I had no way to prepare for. Whether intentional, or not, the blue, ghostly strand that coiled and snaked across the dragon’s toes all the way to the post nearby slipped gently right between his digits with a little wiggle. It was hard to tell whether the motion was deliberate, absentminded or by complete accident, but what came next would make that point entirely irrelevant.

Gently Cervantes lifted his foot up, bending his knee just a tad. The cord now between his toes was pulled taught in a straight line.. and I’d be squeezed against the underside of his toes. I wouldn’t be slipped between them, that would have been merciful. Instead I was choked, wriggling and strangled as the dragon continued to pull the cord tightly with his foot. My eyes bulged, feeling them swell up with blood as the circulation to my head was entirely cut off. I could feel my skull throbbing and my vision tunnel inward as I writhed and gripped at my neck uselessly.

Just as I felt I was going to pass out, Cervantes’ foot lowered enough to give me much needed air. Laying on the underside of his toes, I gagged and choked, coughing hoarsely in an attempt to suck in much needed oxygen. This lasted perhaps half a minute before once more, the dragon’s foot lifted upward, again pulling my cord tight and forcing me painfully into the underside of his toes. I writhed once more, this time much weaker as I choked and suffocated on the binding cord around my neck, leaving a painful ring on my neck in the process. I couldn’t breathe a single pinch of air, though that wouldn’t be necessary after another ten seconds.

With one gentle, careless tug, my neck was snapped completely backward, the back of my head pressed to my spine as his foot continued to lift upward with the bend of his knee, slipping my now lifeless body between his toes. Whether he knew it or not, the dragon was further toying with my remains, squeezing at me with his toes to feel it squish and shift limp between those scaly digits.

Ironically, it was this that woke Cervantes. He felt the warm, wet stickiness between his toes in a sudden burst and roused from his slumber. With a low, inhuman rumble, the great dragon turned to look over his shoulder; feeling the other eleven girls all writhing on his sole. Seeing as how we came by the dozen, and how he’d now ruined the set by squishing me, he didn’t feel anything against dashing the entire clutch of tiny women on his sole. He’d put his head back down into his pillows and close his eyes. Once more the dragon rubbed at the sole of his foot with the other. This time, however, Cervantes would push with the underside of his toes down on the girls. He delighted in the high pitched squeaks and squeals just before his meaty digits came down and began kneading and rubbing them down into the ball of his other sole. They of course struggled, despite living to serve and pamper his feet, they most certainly weren’t ready to die quite yet! Their pleas for mercy, however muffled and incoherent they sounded, would go unheeded entirely by the massive lizard. He rumbled with approval as he dug his toes down deeper, and deeper against his other sole.

He’d feel their tiny bodies compressing and smearing along the ball of his foot with each heavy rub of those toes. The screaming would die off little by little as the poor women both lost their breath and will to scream. They were reduced to soft whimpers and gurgles as soft, almost muted pops and snaps could be heard between those pillowy mounds of flesh and scales. Little by little, they were reduced to little red streaks or spots of crimson dotting the underside of Cervantes’ toes and sole before He finally relaxed and shuffled his feet side by side as he had before all of this. He nuzzled his pillow with a contented grin before slowly sliding back off to sleep.