Amber in Peril - vs the Red Dragon

AMBER IN PERIL

TALE #1: THE RED DRAGON'S RED HOT LUST

---

"My daughter's life is in danger! Only you can rescue her!"

Thus spoke Duchess Irene, highest ranking noble this side of the Gemini Mountains. Her words were usually pleasing to the ear, almost musical in their quality. But today she sounded a heartbeat away from insanity.

"Please, Amber, do us this kindness." Her shrill voice had faded to a whisper. The elf duchess, perhaps 1,000-something years old, suddenly sounded as old as she must have felt. Trembling, she sat back down and slumped in her ivory throne. A servant brought her a glass of wine, his steady features betraying the slightest twinge of anxiety.

For a few seconds, all was silent in the great Elven Hall of Wellhaven. The only sound was that of wood scraping against marble.

Amber Sam had finished fidgeting with her leather armor and was now rocking back and forth in her chair like an impatient schoolgirl. Her cheeks were flushed. A few beads of sweat trickled down her small nose.

"I'm honored," she began.

"Wonderful! You'll set out at once. We've already procured a guide," Irene said, smiling broadly.

"--but I have a certain reputation when it comes to quests..."

"Those awful gauche rumors? I pay no heed to such gossip. Now, your guide is a man named Siegfried."

"--the thing is, Duchess, most of those rumors are true. I tend to get knocked flat on my, rear, quite often... And at the most inopportune times..."

"Yes yes, but you always succeed. You 'always' pull through." She waved with her free hand while downing her wine, as if the point had been settled eons ago and Amber was just now getting caught up to speed.

When Irene spoke, there was simply no room for argument. She had the candor and in-your-face charisma of a used camel salesman. In fact, when it came to wearing people down, the salesman could have taken a few pointers from Miss Irene Wellhaven. It's funny, Amber thought, just how similar a dirty huckster and a successful noblewoman could be.

The only real difference lay in the title. And the hygiene.

"Siegfried is a nice man and quite skilled too... For a human, mind you--oh, dear me, I meant no offense--he'll take you as far as Bald Mountain..." she drained her glass. Its twin was in her hand within the second. "Let's see... No real dangers along the way... Just one measly dragon... Then you can save my daughter and earn your generous reward."

Irene beamed and crossed her dark legs, swinging the left over her right and adopting a relaxed posture.

"Any questions?"

Amber groaned. She had dozens, most of which were directed towards herself. A dragon? How was she meant to beat a dragon all on her own? Without Magier's magic or Wulfric's poison arrows... Would it even be possible?

"What does your daughter look like?" Amber asked instead. She had already committed to the job. She might as well see it through.

Irene laughed while covering her mouth, fingers splayed.

"Silly girl, she looks just like her mother."

Raising an eyebrow, Amber took the chance to ogle her client. The elf duchess wore a tight form-fitting scarlet dress which clung to her navel while supporting her firm breasts up above and suggestively tracing the contours of her plump thighs below. Amber wondered if heaven had been as generous with Irene's daughter.

Her skin was a pale grey, dark enough to be noticeably inhuman but not so dark that she would disappear in the shadows. Her pointed ears were about as long as Amber's middle finger. They sometimes wiggled whenever the duchess got excited. All in all, she was a fairly attractive dark elf.

"I don't expect you'll encounter too many elves atop Bald Mountain."

"I agree, ma'am."

"And I should expect you'll want to leave sometime today."

"You read my mind, ma'am."

"Then maybe you'd like to stop eyeballing me and start rescuing my daughter before she is eaten." Irene's hand began to tremble, again.

Amber stood up, knocking her chair over. She bowed, excused herself, and left feeling stupider than usual.

Just once! She thought bitterly while mounting her stallion. Just once I'd like to start a quest without insulting my host!

She rode on with the wind blowing her short orange curls back and forth, a strange immature frown tugging at her otherwise comely features. Amber looked like a child's doll or a toy at times like these, when that over-serious expression plagued her and her mind went racing at a hundred miles a minute. She was worried about the dragon, the daughter, the reward, and her own life of course--but her thoughts had kept racing on, as always, and now she was seething with the memory of the Duchess's nearly flawless body.

"Some people have all the luck," she grumbled.

Adventurers were petty like that.

---

Amber smelled the bog before she saw it. The acidic vapors tickled her nose and made her wheeze. The marsh, which lay in the shadow of Bald Mountain, now seemed to surround her entirely. It was like a huge yellow hand waiting to squeeze her throat.

Mosquitoes buzzed and whined within earshot. She slapped her cheek without even thinking.

Her horse had finally halted after running nonstop for five hours. It whinnied and pranced nervously, tail flicking wildly to deter flies. The stallion stared ahead with dull black eyes and focused on some invisible threat lurking in the fog.

Amber looked along with it, trying to trace its stare. She saw nothing.

"Won't go any further, eh?" Amber sighed. She dismounted and grabbed her pack, her tools, and her sword. "I suppose I'll have to go it alone."

"Maybe you'd favor some company?"

Amber jolted and spun on her foot. She drew her sword and whirled around in one swift movement.

Her longsword's razor edge hovered inches away from the stranger's throat, which swallowed noiselessly. Despite this involuntary reaction, the young man seemed entirely unperturbed. He had a hard look in his eyes, tempered with some good humor and lots of laugh lines. He had either seen a lot of shit, or was good at pretending that he had.

"It's two days on foot. Five without a guide."

"Siegfried?"

"The one and only. Don't cut the face, it's how I make a living."

Amber spat and sheathed her sword. "You're the guide? You! I can't believe the elves expect me to trust some, some scrawny berry-picker. I bet you were still sucking your mother's tits fifteen winters ago."

"Eighteen actually, but who's counting?" Siegfried adjusted his shirt collar and coughed. He made a show of dusting himself off.

Amber fought back a small smile. She couldn't help but admire idiots who got in way over their heads. Or maybe he just reminded her of herself at that age.

Just as she was beginning to enjoy the tension, her horse startled at some unseen provocation and fled. After a moment's hesitation, Siegfried's stallion bolted too.

Siegfried stooped and wordlessly gathered his supplies up off the ground. Then, he braced one boot against an old decaying log and snapped a branch in two. Using it like a blind man's cane, Siegfried began poking at the bog.

The blackish-yellow muck bubbled ominously.

"Im worried about the horses," Amber said, if only to break the silence.

"Don't be, they're of elven stock. They will return home without fail. Hand."

"What?"

"Your hand, give it to me."

She took his hand in hers, felt that he had a firm grip (yet somewhat weaker than her own), and couldn't help but smile.

Siegfried took his first cautious step into the gurgling muck and glanced back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. For a moment, she could have sworn he had winked.

Maybe this nightmarish swamp crossing wouldn't be so bad after all.

---

"And then, he said--" Amber choked out, eyes red with tears, "He said, you're so full of bullshit. I should know, I'm a minotaur after all!" She howled with laughter and nearly doubled over cackling at her own anecdote.

"That's very funny," Siegfried said with a hint of concern. He had a peculiar smile on his face, a smile reminiscent of visiting ambassadors who understood a foreign joke, didn't think it was funny in the slightest, but laughed anyway to avoid a diplomatic incident. Either that, or the youth just happened to smile like a man who had finished sucking a lemon.

Amber laughed again. She didn't care. She didn't care if he thought she was crazy or that they had been lost in the swamp for three days instead of two, what did it matter? She'd make it to Bald Mountain one way or another. She'd beat the dragon, rescue the girl, and make a fortune. She always saved the day.

And afterwards, she was always alone.

"Maybe we should call it a night," Siegfried suggested. He poked at the campfire and looked out into the blackness, face solemn like a statue.

They were situated atop a tiny island of damp mud and creeping vines. It was soggy and sometimes overrun with flies, but it was the only solid land for a mile. The swamp was oddly peaceful at night, no alligators came hissing out of the waters, no vicious vipers lunged at their feet. Instead, Amber could look out across the silent horizon and take in the dancing fireflies which flickered in and out of existence. And sometimes a gorgeous will'o'the'wisp would flutter by, shining with an eerie verdant light--beckoning her, guiding her towards disaster...

"The night's still young," Amber said. "Don't wimp out on me now." She had spoken with a bit more force than she had anticipated. Grinding her teeth, she wondered if she had spoken with the same haughtiness that Irene had cast her way.

Amber was feeling her years too, that they had in common. But she was still young, still spry enough to swing a sword and bash a monster's brains in. Was that why she was doing this, all this? To prove she was still 'with it?' Amber felt the ever-familiar seed of shame take root in her heart. How pathetic, a thirty year old glorified mercenary partying it up with some stable-boy-turned-tour-guide. And they were both hopelessly lost in the wilderness.

Siegfried almost rolled his eyes but thought better of it. He smiled lazily. Unconcerned as ever.

"You're red in the face," he observed, his mask of politeness slipping. "Amazing, simply incredible. We've been eating field rations and sipping spring water this whole time. Don't act like you're drunk!"

"So you're giving up? Fine then, go to bed. I know you kiddies need your beauty sleep."

"Oh that's rich, let's all take beauty tips from Amber Sam--adventurer extraordinaire." Siegfried spat. When his mouth was partway open, Amber saw that his teeth was perfectly straight and white, which was quite frankly a rarity for peasants. His tongue was pink, and...

"You don't find me attractive? Really?" she asked, sounding hurt. But 'sounding' and 'feeling' were two different things, of course.

"That is not what I meant, don't go putting words in my mouth. You're just not my type."

Amber rubbed her arm as if it had been bruised, eyes downcast. The benefit to this pose was that she could easily cup her breasts with her arm and make them jiggle, ever so slightly. The effect wasn't very noticeable for a girl like her, but she had to play the cards she was dealt.

"Not your type? So Siegfried the swamp-guide is a picky womanizer, eh?" She reached around her back and undid some of the leather protecting her chest. Then she traced four fingers across her lithe arm and removed a metal gauntlet, revealing her slender hand. She waggled her fingers and grinned.

The dancing firelight brought out the red-hot pigment in her boyish hair. Siegfried could see himself reflecting in her wide emerald eyes, a stranger staring slackjawed and imprisoned in each pupil. She blinked, and the effect ended.

Siegfried put a hand to his heart as if to hold himself back. But even as he rallied, Amber strode forward and closed the gap between them.

She was taller up close, more imposing. With each missing piece of armor she revealed a new feature he had overlooked--her wiry frame which belied the strength underneath, her pale skin occasionally dotted with light freckles, the foot which rested gently against his thigh, and now her chest--bare breasts poking out behind the falling bra, her full nipples so pink and firm and--

"A little on the small side," he said out loud, unthinking.

"Don't you ruin this for me," Amber hissed. Then her expression turned pleasant once more as she embraced him, her strong tomboyish arms wrapped around him like a vice as she leaned in, rosy lips parting with a soft Pop! She kissed him. He recoiled at first, all his bravado and imaginary suaveness pouring away like so much sand in a bottle.

He leaned in and kissed her back. His tongue was in her mouth before she was ready. Amber made a little noise of surprise as he forced her onto the damp earth, his greedy fingers toying with her naked breasts. He pinched and he prodded, then Siegfried pulled away with great effort. Three strands of saliva were all that connected them.

He stared down at her with an unreadable expression.

Panting like a dog, Amber looked into his eyes and felt her heart sink. It was a look she hadn't encountered all that often, but whenever she saw it Amber would have to prepare herself for another lonely night. Those hard brown eyes brought up some bad memories.

"I'm sorry," Siegfried said, looking away. He was still sitting on top of her.

"Don't be. I started this and you obviously weren't ready. It's my fault, not yours." Now that those piercing eyes were trained elsewhere, Amber felt as if a spell had been broken. She could speak once more.

"Do you just want to talk some more? I liked hearing about your old job at the inn," Amber added, floundering.

"No, thank you. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. I think I might just take care of myself and go to sleep."

Amber frowned. She bit her lip, suddenly annoyed.

"I can't believe you had the gall to say that while still tugging my nipples."

Siegfried let go immediately, then laughed. She laughed too. The air felt a little less oppressive, despite the hostile environment surrounding them.

Her guide stood back up and dusted himself off again--making a big show of it once again. There was something very large pressing against the fabric of his breeches.

"You know, we don't have to go all the way," Amber said in a neutral tone. "I can help out if you just need a hand."

In the distance, will'o'the'wisps floated above the endless mire.

---

"Oh fuck, oh fuck yes," Amber moaned.

"Amber... You're the one getting me off, not--mmh--not the other way around... Why are you..."

"Because my free hand is between my thighs, silly." Amber bit her lip, holding another moan as best she could.

This had been a long time coming. Despite persistent rumors about "Amber the Monster Layer," she didn't get fucked on every mission. More like every one in three. Work was hard to come by these days. Other heroes took all the best jobs, leaving her with the grunt work. This dragon thing had been a stroke of luck. Speaking of...

"Yeah, just like that..." Siegfried huffed as she gripped him a little more tightly, her thumb flickering across the head as she stroked his cock from behind his back. Her breasts pressed against his buttocks. She could feel him trembling with pleasure in the arid night.

She hadn't had a chance to get off in months. Doing it alone just wasn't good enough. And finding an attractive guy was like finding a needle in a haystack. She sometimes thought she'd be better off riding some monster again.

Amber had two fingers inside and was thinking about three when Siegfried started to breathe erratically. His chest heaved.

She smiled luridly. Monsters were fun, but cute guys were way better.

"Fuck it, I'm gonna cum. I'm cumming!"

Amber cooed approvingly as she watched his erect cock throb with every shot, rope after sticky rope of white cum sailing out into the dark and splattering on the ground. It was deviant, it was wasteful. It turned her on.

Siegfried moaned again as she jerked him faster and faster, her palm slick with warm cum. The sound of skin slapping against skin was obscene. It echoed out across the silent swamp.

Plap plap plap plap...

Smack smack smack...

"Ooh god," Siegfried cried one last time as Amber coaxed a final load out from his glans. His semen didn't fly as far this time and dribbled all over Amber's hand.

She flicked most of it off with a single domineering motion, then stood up and breathed hot air in his ear.

Fingers working furiously, she brought herself closer and closer towards her own personal climax. Her thighs shook, her tired arm gave one last push, and she suddenly fell back down to her knees as her legs simply buckled beneath her weight.

"Fuck yes! Fuck me!" She rode the high as long as she could, shaking vigorously with every bump of ecstasy. Siegfried must have shot his load eight or nine times. She endeavored to ride her own orgasm for twice as long, and she did so easily. By the time her feet finally stopped kicking, Siegfried was looking down at her with a little smile on his face. She blushed, sweat trickling down her chin as she took one deep breath after another.

Her toes curled when he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. They each slept in their own shelter that night, physically apart but more connected than before. Siegfried snored when he slept. Amber Sam barely noticed.

---

Morning came and the events of the past night felt like a dream for both parties involved. The sky was clear and the path ahead seemed obvious. Hours passed.

"You're suddenly much more competent than before," Amber observed, breaking the silence.

"It's just luck, not competence. Though the two are often confused." Siegfried walked at a steady pace, as if the sticky mud and treacherous pits no longer frightened him. He walked some distance ahead of Amber, the gap between them gradually growing by the minute.

"Hey, hold up!" she called. Her walking stick had gotten ensnared by a particularly grabby patch of swampland. She tugged and tugged but it wouldn't come free. Amber looked up and saw Siegfried's back receding into the distance.

"Wait!" she called again. Amber gave the wayward walking stick one last venomous glance and struggled ahead without it. She managed to close the gap, but only just.

If Siegfried was aware of her presence, he didn't acknowledge it. Something had changed. The air was different now.

"What's with you? Are you trying to leave me behind? Some guide you turned out to be," Amber laughed.

"Yes."

"Yes? Yes what?" Amber blinked. "Seriously? You were trying to ditch me?"

"Yes."

"Why? God, what's wrong with you?"

"You should be more worried about yourself, hero."

Amber snorted. Once again, he was talking tough but with absolutely nothing to back it up. And that delivery! Pure unintentional comedy. It was a little disturbing when a gigantic demon lord called you "hero." Less so when it came from the mouth of some snot-nosed youth.

Then it hit her. That idiot.

"You think I'm going to get myself killed."

Her guide gestured wordlessly. Ahead were two great willows which rose from the ground like a pair of crooked spines, each blackened and withered beyond recognition. Both trees seemed to hang in midair, totally motionless, both bowing towards one another and blotting out the Sun.

He half-faced her, his young features concealed by shadows.

"No, that's not it. You can't beat a dragon," he said matter-of-factly. "Magier's still in no condition to help you."

"How do you know about my old friends?" Amber asked. She hoped her voice sounded sharp and had not betrayed the butterflies in her stomach. "I don't remember telling you about them."

"So no magic," Siegfried continued, ignoring her. "And without Wulfric's poison arrows, you have no covering fire. One woman versus the Master of Bald Mountain. It's hopeless. Turn back."