Prismatic High Pt. 03

"Yeah, but the alternates are fucking lame. I hate getting sand caught on my balls," the silver said, shaking his head. "I shower for weeks and I can still feel dirty. Though, I mean, I guess its worse for the-"

"Oh fuck," Sasha said, her voice crackling through the earbud.

"What?" Darryl asked.

"I said, uh, can you pass the salt?" Xia - who was seated three seats away from Darryl - pointed. Darryl grabbed the salt and handed it over to the red next to him, who herself passed it on. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear...and unfortunately, whispered in the exact same ear that he he had the earpiece in. That meant that Darryl managed to not hear both of Sasha's voice and the red's voice. But then, before he could stammer some excuses, the red drew her mouth back.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Everyone who missed PE this morning, finish up quick!" Principal Lung called from the entrance into the room. "The class is starting soon - we're almost out of a time window!"

Darryl rubbed his thumb along the inside of his plate, licked the juice and sauce off his finger, stood, and smiled at the red and green, his cock bobbing as he said: "Sorry girls, later!" he turned and jogged off with the rest of the class who was needed for PE. He was stopped by Lung as he ran past the Principal.

"I've talked to Tazo," the Principal said, his voice soft. "He won't cause any trouble if you don't cause any trouble. But remember, he is the teacher." He frowned. "So, there won't be any more problems, will there?"

Darryl nodded.

How hard could not causing trouble in PE be?

Darryl started off, subtly poking at the device in his ear. "Sasha?" he whispered. He didn't get a response from her. He poked and prodded, his clawtip feeling a tiny switch. He groaned. Great. Somewhere in that confusion, the red dragon had managed to hit the off switch on his communication device. He was still trying to subtly adjust it when he arrived on the roof and found that Tazo - looking quite irritated at the change in his schedule, had skipped the drill sergeant routine and was instead just saying: "Everyone, get in line!"

Darryl got in line with the other dragons, his cock starting to soften now that he was away from groping hands and squeezing, caressing palms.

Tazo looked the line up and down. His eyes narrowed. If Darryl didn't know better, he could have sworn that Tazo was carefully counting them. Then, smirking, Tazo stepped over to the right of the line, moved three dragons forward, and started counting. "One, two, three, four-" The fourth person he tapped was Darryl. "Five..." He continued along the line, naming off a number for each dragon, looping around to give the ones he had skipped numbers. Once he had finished doing that, Tazo walked over to a box of folders and papers. He held them up in his hands.

"Here's your PE objectives," he said. "Most of you have already done PE in your family's traditions, with older brothers or fathers going with you. This will be your first PE done alone, so I'll be grading you on skill, stealth, satisfaction.." He held out the folders, and dragons started to take them and flip them open. The dragon who got the number 1 folder pumped his fist.

"England! Whooooooop whoooooop!"

Darryl's brow furrowed. He stepped forward, his finger scratching at the com in his ear. Finally, he felt his claw catch and flick the on switch.

"-repeat, it's not physical education!" Sasha said. "Can you fucking hear me?"

"Here you go, Mr. George," Tazo said, his eyes gleaming cruelly as he held out the folder. Darryl took the folder from his hands, unfolding it slowly, finding the papers within. But he didn't see the photograph, or the map, or the small dossier. He saw only the small, stenciled letters at the top of the folder, the letters that spelled out the full name of the class.

PRINCESS EXTRACTION.

"Balls," Darryl whispered.

###

The small country of Tjuristan nestled the region between Asia and Mesopotamia. The lands it now occupied had once been a verdant part of several of the earliest civilizations in human history, traded hands via war and marriage and trade. Now, though, it was one of the most wealthy nations, per capita, in the world because, after the Sykes-Picot agreement brokered in 1916 between France and the United Kingdom, the family of King Farhad had been given the land...and then, in 1962, an immense cache of oil had been found underneath the sands of their mostly desertified realm.

All these facts and more had not been included in the dossier on Princess Aliya. Rather, that had been more interested in breast size (C-cup), waist width (29 imperial inches), hip width. It had entire paragraphs about her grooming habits.

It didn't fucking mention the fucking PATRIOT missiles the fucking country bought from the fucking United fucking States of fucking America! That thought and others like it rocketed through Darryl's head as he banked, weaved, dodged, flipped, and darted through cloudbanks as missiles rocketed around and past him, several exploding in the air a few hundred meters away, filling the air with whining, red hot shrapnel normally designed to knock jets out of the sky.

"Okay, head down and to the right!" Sasha shouted. "There's a mountain range which you can lose the target lock in!"

"How can they target lock me, I'm a fucking dragon!" Darryl shouted over the wind as he beat his wings, cupped them against his back and darted down towards a low, dark shape he could barely see through his flash dazzled eyes. He realized he had almost made a horrible mistake when he realized that he was going to smash into the side a mountain. He banked to the side and a missile plunged into the mountain to right behind his tail. The shock-wave slammed into him like the world's biggest wrestler and flinging him through the air. Darryl felt as if someone had used his head as a gong and barely was aware of his arcing motion as he soared through the air on a gentle parabola.

Then he became painfully aware of smashing right into a window pane, hitting a tiled floor, then skidding almost five feet before catching his head against something wrought iron and spiky. So, Darryl sprawled there and just...hurt. Darryl whimpered.

"Darryl?" Sasha asked.

"I'm okay..." Darryl groaned, putting his hands under himself and shoving himself to his hands and knees at the very least.

Then the fire poker smashed into the back of his head.

Darryl slumped down onto the ground with a groan. "Owww..."

"Hah!" A voice - beautiful and musical - rang out above him. "Take that!" Another swing brought the fire poker onto the small of his back. Darryl lay there and took the impacts - which, to be honest, wouldn't have been nearly so bad, had he not already been battered and smashed and singed. He weakly tried to protest around the impacts.

"Please-" Thunk. "Stop-" Thunk. "I'm just-" Thunk. "Visiting..."

"You're a horrible monster!" The female voice said. Darryl slowly rolled onto his back and a quiet gasp of utter shock came from above him. He couldn't see anything but a silhouette. A perfectly hourglass shaped silhouette, but still just a silhouette. Darryl lay there - insensate and blinking. He wasn't aware that, until that moment, he had mostly been a pile of blue scales and wing membrane to the firepoker. Now, though, his broad chest was exposed, the smooth lines of his perfect pecs, the flat sculpted buffness of his abs, each easily counted. And, finally, the thickness of his immense black cock. Even soft, it was fucking impressive.

Darryl heard footsteps. Shouts - too far for the translation spell that Xia had helpfully cast on him to function. But then everything went black and he felt his hands shoving at him.

"Move, move!" The firepoker girl was saying, her hands pushing at him. Darryl squirmed, trying to figure out what was covering his face. He realized, only once he had settled underneath something hard and large and dark, that she had thrown a blanket over his body. Darryl lay there, his senses returning as his body healed itself as the footsteps thundered into the room. He could hear five footsteps - and the clink and rattle of guns, the shifting of packs on backs. Darryl prodded at the underside of the blanket, trying to figure out what he was under. Whatever it was, it seemed to hide him well enough as he heard a smarmy British voice saying.

"Princess! You're...all right..."

"I am, no thanks to your missiles, General," the beautiful voice he had heard before spoke. Ah. Princess Aliya. Good. He had a name for her now.

"What landed in here?"

"Some rubble," she said. "Your men will clean it up immediately!"

"But of course," the General - some foreign mercenary, if Darryl didn't miss his guess - spoke.

"That's General Sharpe," Sasha whispered. "He's one of those ex-SAS guys who decided quiet retirement wasn't as much fun as raking in money as the hit men for uber-wealthy despots. Don't underestimate him."

Darryl nodded subtly, though he knew that Sasha couldn't hear that.

The footsteps puttered about the room for only a few more minutes, then walked away. The door shut a few moments after. Darryl slowly reached up and tugged the blanket off his snout. He looked out and saw Princess Aliya looking at him. She was as devastatingly beautiful as she had looked in the photograph, with a heart shaped face, dark brown eyes, and dusky skin. Her hair was long and curling and raven black. She made him ache as she smiled at him. She was dressed in a simple nightgown, her crucifix gleaming as it rested between the valley of her pert, perfect breasts. Darryl was very glad he was covered by a blanket and crammed under a...a bathtub. He had hit and been hidden under a bathtub.

"Sorry," she said, holding up the firepoker she had been beating him with.

"S'fine," Darryl muttered, shifting subtly to lift his thigh, trying to hide the immense bulge that was threatening to shift the bathtub off its feet. "I am kinda weird looking."

The Princess stepped back and Darryl shifted out from under the bathtub. He drew the blanket around his hips, to try and preserve some modesty. But his eyes betrayed him - resting on the crucifix, they seemed to be ogling the Princess' breasts. The Princess barely noticed - she was too busy counting his abs. One, two, three, four, five...she shook her head and stammered. "S-So, uh, who are you?"

"Darryl! Darryl George is the name," Darryl said, nodding as he held out his free hand - the hand not currently keeping the blanket around his hips. "Are you Christian?"

Princess Aliya smiled slightly. "There have been Christians in the middle east longer than in the west, you know," she said, taking the offered hand. Darryl blinked a few times, then stammered.

"I, uh, my west? How did, that is, you...my name...is...American, right..." He trailed off.

"I never did expect to meet an American dragon," she admitted. "Or any dragon for that matter. Are you why that awful general was firing off everything my father wastes his money on?"

Darryl gulped. "Well, um, yes." He grinned shyly. "I'm here to uh...fake kidnapping you."

"Fake?" Aliya asked.

"Yes, okay, it's kind of a long story, but I need some of your hair," Darryl said, nodding slightly.

"My...hair..." Princess Aliya's hand went to her hair. The mere thought of damaging even one of them was almost too much for him to bear. But she shook her head slightly. "You will need to explain more than that, Mr. George." She frowned, slightly. Darryl breathed slowly out.

"Can I just say you're taking the existence of dragons far better than I expected?"

"I am currently half thinking this is a dream," Aliya said, her beautiful lips quirking in a slight smile. "I am further thinking that running around shocked and screaming would not exactly help, would it? If dragons are real, so be it. I will need to deal with it, when I become Queen to the next King of my kingdom. Or would you prefer me to simper and whimper and call for a dashing knight in armor?" She arched an eyebrow.

"...okay, uh...even I kinda want to fuck her now," Sasha whispered over the com.

Darryl rubbed his hand over his face. "Okay. Full story. My family are dragonhunters. My dad's an abusive asshole, so when my Mom met her first dragon, she kinda...boinked him."

"Boinked?" Aliya asked. "I have access to the internet, Mr. George, I know what f-"

"Butyou'reaprincessitsweird!" Darryl squeaked out as quickly as he could. He continued before Alyia could object. "So, anyway, I hit eighteen, get transferred to Prismatic High, which is this high school for dragons, and one of the classes is to kidnap, fuck, and return a princess. It's a kind of weird class, apparently, it's part of a magical ritual to maintain the world, I don't know, I wasn't super paying attention because, I mean, I have a human girlfriend. So...I was planning to, um, use some magic to make a simu...smi...sima..."

"Simulacrum," Aliya said.

"Yeah, that," Darryl said. "Then I can take the simulacrum back, which is bonus points. To bring back, I mean. Which means even the fact I don't fuck you will not be-"

"You can take me," Aliya said, her voice soft.

"I, uh, what?"

"B-Back, I mean!" Aliya said, quickly, holding up her hands. "I don't want to stay here. My father won't let me go to other countries or to college. I want to do more than just steal internet time and wait for a suitor to marry me. I want to go on an adventure! And...y-you're..." She paused, biting her lower lip, slightly. "You're a dragon. I have to know more!"

Darryl blinked. He held up his finger. "One moment. I, uh, need to take a call." He nodded, then turned away, his finger going to the com bead. "Uh, so, what do you think, Sasha?"

"Well, it's not a kidnapping now," Sasha whispered. "But you will not have sex with her. This is just to rescue her from her current position, not a chance to stick your dick in her. Got it?" She sounded slightly less iron hard and focused about that as Darryl might have expected. But Darryl was going to take that. He turned to face Aliya, who was biting her lower lip slightly, looking at his back. Darryl blinked, then looked back - and saw that his tail had lifted up, pushing his covering blanket slightly aside. She had been eyeing his butt. Darryl tried to not think about that as much as he could.

"So, uh, I can take you!" Darryl said.

Aliya reached up, her fingers starting to undo the collar of her nightgown.

"T-To America!" Darryl quickly added.

"Awwhh -yes that's good!" Aliya managed to not sound too dissapointed.

But it was clearly an effort.