The Virgin and the Dragon

At first there seemed to be nothing in the cave but an impenetrable gloom, but then she saw the eyes: bright golden yellow eyes like two lanterns shining in the darkness. And then the dragon moved forwards into the light, his talons clicking on the rock floor, his huge, lean but powerful body with its glittering armour of blood-red scales seeming to materialise out of the night. He stopped when his head was a mere foot away from her own, looming over her, his eyes staring relentlessly into her own.

"How dare you come here? Do you not know what I do to humans who trespass in my lair?"

His voice was as deep and rumbling as an avalanche, and when he spoke he revealed a mouthful of nightmarishly sharp fangs. Her heart pounding unbearably in her chest, she had to summon every scrap of her resolve to stand tall and proud and to answer him in the clearest, calmest voice she could find within her.

"No. I don't know. But that's what I'm here to find out."

He made a strange sound - a deep throbbing rumble from the back of his throat - and she realised he was laughing at her.

"Find out? You will find out, little human, I can promise you that. But first I'll tell you. I'm going to devour you. Piece by little piece."

And suddenly he shot forwards like an uncoiling spring, and in an instant she found his huge paws pinning her to the cold rock floor, their claws pressing uncomfortably through her thin dress. His evil, beautiful yellow eyes leered down at her with contempt. Closing her eyes, she stifled a moan as his snakelike tongue rasped wetly across the exposed skin at the open neck of her dress, tasting her.

"Yes, you'll make a most sumptuous meal. Most sumptuous indeed."

"Wait!" she gasped. "Before you eat me, there's something you might like to know. Did I mention that I'm a virgin?"

"A virgin?" At once a change came over the dragon. His breath seemed to burn even hotter, his yellow eyes flicked lecherously over her pinned body and his tongue slid over his teeth in ravenous anticipation. "Well, that changes everything. I like a virgin. Such a shame you're not going to be one for very long."

She wanted this. She'd craved this, yearned for this, for years. "That's it, dragon," she said quaveringly, "go on. Everything you see is yours. Take me. A hundred times over if you want to." As his eyes licked over her hungrily, she raised a hand to stroke the glittering red scales of his neck encouragingly. "That's why I came here. To give myself to you..."

"Miss?"

Rhian was roused from her dream by a hand shaking her shoulder. She looked up in confusion before the elements of the scene pieced themselves together: the train carriage, the conductor, and the sodden countryside slipping past the window.

"Sorry to wake you, miss, but your stop's coming up."

Rhian nodded a bleary thanks and forced herself to wake up fully. Three minutes later she was standing alone on the platform of the little request stop, watching the train screech sluggishly away up the track.

The station was little more than a single platform put in where a lonely country road crossed the line. There were no buildings, no traffic and no people - just the stark hills crowding oppressively in every direction. There wasn't even a bench - she was forced to perch on the platform's edge while she waited for the bus, clutching the bag containing her sketchbook and other effects, shivering in the unseasonal cold.

Closing her eyes to the world, she tried to remember the dream. The details were slipping away from her now, but it didn't matter - she'd had many dreams like it before, and although they differed in particulars they all shared two common elements: the virgin and the dragon. Rhian was a virgin. It was a status she'd held onto well into adulthood and, she considered, well past the point when it had become embarrassing. But all that was going to end. Tonight. She was going to lose her virginity and she was going to do so in the most dramatic way imaginable.

The bus, when it arrived, was empty; the driver, a thin man with unkempt grey hair and beard, looked surprised to have a passenger. Rhian bought her fare and sat at the very back, a subtle way of telling him she didn't want a conversation.

It didn't work. "Come up on the Shrewsbury train, did you love?"

"Yes."

The curt answer didn't invite any further questions, but he carried on anyway. "Don't think I've seen you round here before. What brings you out to Cysgod-y-ddraig?"

"Hillwalking," she answered bluntly. It was technically true, even if it missed the point entirely.

"What, out in this weather? Dressed like that? You'll catch your death!"

She sighed and looked down at the thin white dress she was wearing. It wasn't the sort of thing she'd usually choose, but it seemed somehow appropriate. Virginal. It being supposedly summer, she'd thought she'd get away with it, but hadn't counted on the Welsh weather, which now streamed by cold and increasingly wet outside the window.

When the driver didn't get a reply he spoke again, this time his voice heavy with what sounded like genuine concern. "Look love, it's none of my business, I'm sure. But just watch out, alright? You do know there's a dragon in these hills, don't you?"

Rhian smiled to herself. "Oh yes. Don't worry about me, I know all about him."

* * *

She was perhaps two thirds of the way up the hillside when she saw him for the first time. So cold was she, and so wet, with her dress clinging soaked and useless to her skin, that she almost missed him. Her eyes were fixed rigidly on the path beneath her feet, trying not to slip again in the mud, and it was only by chance that she glanced up to see the dark shape silhouetted against the grey evening sky: huge outspread wings cutting effortlessly through the waterlogged air, a long tail sweeping out behind. Dragon. Humanity's nightmares embodied in flesh, a creature of power, rage, lust, and calculating malice. But for her, a creature of dreams instead of nightmares.

Although she only saw him for a brief moment before he disappeared into the mouth of his cave some way above, the sight had a profound effect on her. Until that moment what she was doing seemed somehow unreal. But seeing the dragon in the flesh made it come home to her. You're climbing to a dragon's lair to offer yourself to him, she told herself. You're going to walk in there and expect him to fuck you, because that's what dragons do to virgin girls, right? But what if he's hungry, and decides to eat you instead? What if you don't survive a dragon's attentions? If you go through with this, you could die tonight.

She faced a moment of cringing doubt, shivering on the windswept hillside. But then she remembered the longing, the craving obsession which she'd carried within her half her life. If she didn't do this now, she never would. She'd carry that longing within her the rest of her days and her most desperate fantasy would remain always just that: a fantasy. Yes it was obscenely dangerous, but if she turned back towards home she knew she'd always regret it. Shaking from more than just the cold, she trudged on up the narrow path, closer and closer to the dragon's lair.

* * *

The light was fading behind her as she stood in the mouth of the cave, dripping and shaking, clutching her little bag. The tunnel branched off in two directions, both leading into darkness, but from one echoed a low crunching sound. Cautiously, her heart racing, she edged into the dark passage, her fingers tracing the rough but dry rock of the wall. The sound grew louder. She stopped and waited, silently, letting her eyes adjust to the dim light.

The dragon sat a little way in front of her, with his back turned. He was big, but perhaps not as big as she'd expected, being about half as big again as a man, if you didn't count his long tail and the great leathery wings folded behind his back. He sat apparently gnawing on the bones of some animal. At first she could see him only as a blacker outline in the darkness, but as her eyes grew more sensitive she could make out the row of sharp spines running down his back, and the curving black horns jutting from the back of his head.

She cleared her throat nervously.

Suddenly the crunching stopped, and a pair of inhuman golden yellow eyes swung round to stare at her, reflecting the light from the mouth of the cave and looking like two lanterns shining in the darkness. For a few seconds neither of them moved. She didn't even breathe. Then the dragon, without taking his eyes from her once, rose slowly to his feet - four great paws - and walked slowly towards her, talons clicking on the rock floor. As he drew further into the light she saw that his scales were a deep red, so deep as to be almost black. He stopped with his head a mere foot away from hers, and after regarding her for a few moments more spoke in a deep, rumbling voice that seemed to resonate with the cave walls.

"Can I help you?"

Rhian faltered, unable to quite believe that she was actually there, that the object of her deepest desire for so many years was standing right in front of her, close enough to touch. She fumbled for words.

"Um... hello. I... I'm... I mean... ah..." The dragon stared at her impassively, waiting for her to finish. She tried to pull herself together, took a deep breath and fumbled for the right words. What did the girls in her dreams say in this situation? "I... am a virgin."

There. She'd said it. Not quite how she'd meant for the words to come out, but it was out. He carried on staring down at her. She stared back, shaking with nerves, trying to read his intention in his eyes. Was this it? Would he take her now? Here, in this passageway? But he didn't look lust-filled or predatory. He just looked... slightly amused.

"That's a bit of a personal thing to tell me, isn't it? Do you tell that to everyone you meet?"

She shook her head numbly. Somehow, this wasn't going at all the way she'd always imagined it. The dragon carried on talking, two rows of viciously sharp white fangs glinting from his mouth.

"I mean, usually, you start with your name, then a bit of small talk, perhaps chat about your interests for a bit and then, only when you get to know the person really quite well, do you mention your sexual history. You went straight for it as an opener. Bold. But I'm a more traditional dragon, and I prefer to start with names. What's yours?"

"Rhian."

"Ah, there we are, and a most beautiful name for a most beautiful woman. My name is Iorwerth. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Rhian the virgin. Now. What are you doing in my cave?"

She felt stupid. In all the ways she'd imagined this scene, she'd never once considered that the dragon might behave like... well, like a person. But she wasn't going to give up just yet. He might just be toying with her, after all, as she believed dragons were wont to do. Perhaps if she asked him outright?

"Look, um, Iorwerth, to be honest, I came here to, you know... give myself to you."

"Give yourself to me?" He gave her a look of apparently honest incomprehension. "And whatever would I want you for?"

"To... you know... have your way with me. With my body."

Something in his face told her that he now understood - or had stopped pretending not to. She let out a tense breath she'd been holding in.

"Ah, so you want me to fuck you? Well, that would explain why you were so keen for me to know you were a virgin. Because of course, everybody knows that we dragons love to deflower young maidens. Right before we fly out to burn villages, steal livestock and poison the countryside, hmm?"

"I don't know about anything about any of those other things, or much care. I just came for the deflowering, then I'll be out of your way. Come on Iorwerth, I'm offering myself to you, no conditions attached. So please. Will you have me?"

He laughed - a deep, booming laugh that seemed to shake through the rock walls. "No, Rhian, I'm not going to sleep with you. I'm flattered, truly I am, but I don't really know you, and you're not even of my species. Sorry to disappoint. Was there anything else I can help you with?"

She shook her head, feeling a fool. Why had she assumed it would be so easy? The dragons that filled her dreams, the dragons in stories, the dragons people had warned her about for years, would never have passed by an opportunity like this. A horrible thought dawned: she might never, ever be able to get what she craved. No dragon would ever be interested in her, and she'd remain forever unfulfilled. She sighed, and turned back towards the cave mouth, her mud-streaked dress still dripping onto the floor as she walked. Outside, the light was almost gone and the rain was falling harder than ever. It could have been worse, she reflected as she stepped out into the cold and wet and wind. At least I'm alive. It's something.

"Hold on!" She stopped at the sound of his voice. The dragon had stayed motionless, watching her leave. "Do you not have a coat? Or a torch? Or a dry change of clothes?"

She shook her head, reflecting morosely how poorly she'd prepared for this adventure.

"Then I cannot possibly ask you to leave. You have my reluctant welcome to stay here with me, until the weather clears in the morning, on one small condition."

She spun to face him. "What's the condition?"

"The condition is simply this: I'm asking you to stay here simply for shelter, and not for sex. So I'd like you to promise me you won't try anything, shall we say, inappropriate."

"Of course! I promise. Thank you, Iorwerth, thank you so much!"

She smiled to herself. She'd never been one to stick to promises. A whole night to turn the dragon around - perhaps, if she handled things right, she could get what she came for after all.

* * *

It was pitch black. The dragon had led her into a chamber with a soft earthen floor. His bedroom? She shivered. Iorwerth had let her strip out of her sodden dress and shoes, and she sat in only her bra and pants - she'd been about to remove those too but he'd intervened, apparently not trusting her completely naked around him. Or possibly, she hoped, not trusting himself.

The air was cold - too cold to sit around nearly naked for long. She could hear the dragon rustling with something in front of her, and wondered what he was doing. Her answer came when a brilliant jet of flame intruded suddenly into the darkness, momentarily blinding her.

"Fire! Splendid thing! Quite useless to me of course; I can see perfectly in the dark and don't feel the cold. But I thought you might appreciate a little light and warmth."

She did, and huddled close to the flame. He'd piled dry wood and leaves against the cave wall and set light to it, the smoke rising through a natural chimney in the rock. Her clothes and bag had been thoughtfully spread next to it to dry. As she warmed her hands, she appreciated the way the flame reflected from the dragon's scaled skin, making him seem to shimmer with red-orange light.

"I hope you find my bed to your satisfaction. It's a simple thing, but I find it to be really quite comfortable." He lay himself down on the earthen floor a little behind her, curled on his side, facing the fire.

It seemed as good a moment as any to begin her carefully crafted plan. She'd worked out the details in her head while he'd been sorting out the fire, and she thought it stood a fair chance of getting her what she wanted if she stepped very, very carefully. Rummaging in her little bag she pulled out her sketchbook, still mercifully dry inside its plastic bag, and a pencil, before walking over to where the dragon lay.

"Iorwerth, do you mind if I snuggle up next to you?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. "Rhian, do you not recall the one thing I asked you to promise before I let you stay the night?"

She gave him a calculated look of surprised indignation. "Now who's got sex on the brain? I'm not suggesting we get it off, I just want to sit down beside you for a bit. Even with that fire it's still pretty cold in here, and you'd keep me warm." He looked unconvinced. She waved her sketchbook. "I'd like to do a little drawing and talk to you for a while before I go to sleep. No hidden agenda. How does that sound?"

"Well... alright. I'd like to watch you draw. Come sit down here."

She took a seat between his front and rear legs, her back pressed against his pleasingly soft scaled belly, delighted at getting through the first delicate step in her plan. He felt deliciously warm against her skin, and she had to suppress the desire to run her hands all over his scales; instead, true to her word, she flicked her sketchbook open to the first blank page and began to draw. She was highly conscious of the dragon's eyes watching as she traced in the rough outlines of the picture, until he caught on to what was taking shape.

"Why I do believe you're drawing me!" There was a purring rumble in his voice which gave her the impression that he wasn't at all displeased.

"I'm drawing both of us, actually. As we're sitting now, so try not to move."

He watched her pencil in the long, curving sweep of his tail. "Rhian, if you'll forgive a rather personal question, why are you so eager to have sex with a dragon?"

She couldn't believe her luck. Getting him talking about sex was the next stage in the plan, and he was doing it without prompting!

"Because you're beautiful." She worked on drawing his wings, trying to capture the way the majestic folds caught the light. "You're elegant and powerful and frankly just gorgeous. I mean, look at you!" She started on the broad sweep of his neck.

"Humans never did it for me, I suppose I'm just abnormal. I wish I wasn't. You know, I wish I could see a man and feel attracted to him, even if it was just a little bit, just enough to have a normal relationship. But I can't. There's nothing there." She filled in his head, sketching the dark curves of his horns, paying extra attention to the gleam in his eyes, to his long tongue poking from between deadly white fangs.

"But when I look at you... suddenly I want you to run your tongue all over my body." She felt the dragon tense and added quickly, "not that I'm asking you to. I promised, didn't I? I'm just telling you how I feel."

Iorwerth didn't reply so she carried on drawing, putting herself into the picture as she sat, leaning contentedly against the dragon's belly, sketchbook in one hand. "Iorwerth, as I'm not getting to sleep with you - and I've come to accept that now - will you at least answer me one question? What's it like to have sex with a dragon?"

There was a slightly cumbersome silence before he answered. "Well, ah, the truth is, Rhian, I'm afraid that I'm in no position to answer that. You see, I don't know."

Her pencil paused. "You're a virgin!" She hadn't expected that.

"Yes, yes I am. There, now there's a thing we both know about each other." He sounded embarrassed. "I suppose in some ways we aren't so very different, you and I. You see, dragons never..." Suddenly he stopped, and tried to change the subject. "You're a most talented artist, Rhian. But I'm afraid your portrait flatters me, while failing to adequately capture your own beauty."

She was busy filling in details of light and shade, and wasn't about to be drawn into a safe artistic debate. "You asked me why I want to have sex with a dragon, and I told you. Now here's a question back at you. Why do you want to have sex with a human?"

She felt him twitch in surprise, but she didn't stop drawing. It was a risk, but she was pretty sure she was right. Ever since she'd seen him watch her undress out of the corner of her eye, she'd suspected. When she'd sat against his belly and felt his heartbeat rise in response, it had simply given her confirmation. Now she had him. He had to answer the question, or lie and deny it.