Racer's Reward

Synopsis: A young dragon born to compete in aerial races wins his first championship and discovers that his reward is more than just a medal. His competitors eat his dust, and then the retiring champion eats something else of his. Prepare to see a lot of the tail.

This story is self-contained and can be read alone. (6,779 words)

*****

"Apollo, you really were just amazing yesterday!" Jennifer said to her dragon, who was walking beside her. "I can't stop replaying it in my head. You had a good start, and the first couple of rounds were perfectly on point. At the midpoint I thought you were pretty much locked in for a solid fifth, but then all of a sudden Typhoon crashed into Imperium, and when you just swooped ahead that was... I couldn't believe... You should have seen the crowd, they just exploded... I've never screamed so loud in my life... It was just...just..." Lost for words, Jennifer threw her arms around the drake's scaly neck and pulled him into a tight hug.

Apollo hummed cheerfully as his owner hugged him. "Hmm! I didn't think I could win either," he admitted. "I was holding back, trying for a sprint at the last second, and at the last turn I started beating my wings as fast as I could and then suddenly I was ahead..."

The blue-scaled dragon stopped speaking as Jennifer squeezed him even tighter, partially choking his windpipe. "You were amazing! I always knew you could win! Oh!" Jennifer finally dropped her hug, allowing the dragon to breathe again, and she resumed walking. Her steps were practically skipping from foot to foot, something the dragon found highly amusing. "Come on, champ! We shouldn't be late, that would be rude," she said.

Apollo resumed following Jennifer; he briefly tried to playfully imitate her hopping gait, but with his four legs it just looked like he was trotting. "Rude? Rude to whom? Are we meeting someone?" he asked curiously. Apollo had assumed he would be celebrating his victory by spending the whole morning sleeping, and possibly also eating lots of unhealthy food. Instead, Jennifer had jumped on him at the crack of dawn to brightly announce that he was to wake up immediately and eat his breakfast, because there were important things they had to be doing. Thus far she had been tight-lipped on exactly what those important things were. Being dragged out of bed early in the morning and figuratively kept in the dark would normally have annoyed Apollo, except that Jennifer's cheerfulness had been highly contagious.

Jennifer patted him on his shoulder, which (while they were both standing) came up to just below her own. "All in good time! You'll find out soon enough."

Now that the carnival was over, workers were cleaning up the area and packing up equipment and tents, storing them away until they would be needed for next year's festival. Apollo recognized the podium he'd stood on yesterday when he'd been given his medal—two of the labourers were boxing it into a crate to be hauled away.

As they came to the edge of the fairgrounds, they crossed over into fields where the dragon race had been held. The flags that marked the outskirts of the course were still standing, but the large helium balloons that had served as waypoints during the race were already gone. At the edge of the field, Apollo spotted a green-scaled dragon sitting next to two humans deep in conversation.

As they approached, he recognized one of the humans as Jennifer's father, Jay, but he couldn't recognize the dragon or the other man. Of the two unknowns, Apollo found the dragon far more interesting—the man looked to be about the same age as Jennifer's father or perhaps slightly younger, and his clothing and appearance were unremarkable. On the other hand, the dragoness has scales of dark green colour, and she was slender and lithe. She wasn't wearing a saddle or a harness, but around her neck was a close-fitting silver necklace with a large emerald that glinted in the sun. She was of the same breed as Apollo and roughly the same size as he was.

The unknown man smiled broadly and extended his hand, which Jennifer took and shook firmly. "You must be Jennifer; it's a great pleasure to meet you. I'm Ian Caedry, and this here is Rafale." The man gestured to the dragoness sitting contentedly next to them, and she inclined her head in a smooth bow.

Apollo's eyes widened. Ian Caedry was the aviation magnate who owned Typhoon, the racing drake who had been expected to win yesterday's championship. Which would mean Rafale was the Rafale, the former three time champion of the regional racing championship who Ian Caedry also owned. The malachite dragoness caught him staring at her and winked an eye at him. Apollo hurriedly glanced back to Ian, realizing that the man was talking to him.

Instead of offering his hand to be shaken, Ian kept his hands to his sides and bowed his head—a draconic greeting that Apollo quickly returned. "And this here is the champion himself! That was really something yesterday, I say. Two of the state's finest racers crash and burn, while a rookie underdog gets the cup? I'll bet no one was expecting that, least of all me. What a dramatic finish! Won't say you don't deserve it though, that was some damn fine flying. What odds."

"And how is Typhoon?" asked Jennifer's father.

Ian frowned, scratching his chin. "Typhoon? He's doing alright. The crash wasn't as bad as it looked; he managed to land on his feet and his wings are still good. He'll be back in the air within a couple of weeks at most."

"That's fortunate. I do hope he recovers soon," said Jennifer politely.

"Cheers! I'll pass on that sentiment" replied the businessman. "He's really beating himself up over that loss though. It's the first time he didn't finish a race, and that's blow hits especially hard since this is his first time at the regionals, same as Apollo. Ever racer has good days and bad—"

"Typhoon is the champion of drama!" Rafale said, abruptly interrupting her owner. This surprised Apollo—when he'd seen Jennifer or other humans talking with dragons, the dragons were usually meek and submissive, especially if they were talking with their direct owners. In comparison, Rafale didn't show the slightest bit of hesitation to add her opinion to the conversation. Just like any dragon, her voice had an odd resonance and seemed to originate from her chest as well as her mouth. "If he hadn't been so overconfident, maybe he wouldn't be a DNF while even Imperium managed to limp to a finish," said the malachite dragoness.

"Come now my dear, have some sympathy," retorted Ian. "Anyway, Jennifer, now that you're here we've got so much to discuss. Why, I was just talking with your father here about how this really reminds of the first time I attended the regionals with a dragon racing under my name. Rafale's first race! That was a decade back when I first got into the sport, but I can still give you the exact finish times. You and Apollo treasure your victory—I'll bet you never forget it either. What a photo finish! We were also just saying—oh, my bad, I'm rambling again when we're all standing around on ceremony!" The tycoon raised his hands in apology, and then gestured to a nearby restaurant. "Jay, Jennifer, how about we three head over to the café over there; let's find us some seats while we talk business?"

"Good idea—coffee always helps a discussion," replied Jennifer's father, nodding in agreement.

Ian gestured between the two dragons. "It's a plan, then. So you two can get down to your own business whenever you're good and ready, and we'll be back in about say, an hour or so. Maybe more if I can't stop rambling."

Jennifer quickly hugged Apollo again. "I'll see you later. Enjoy yourself!" she said. The three humans walked off towards the restaurant, leaving Apollo still entirely unsure what was going on. What business did Ian Caedry have with Jennifer and her father? Just as importantly, what business did he have with Rafale? He glanced towards the dragoness, who was watching the humans depart.

Apollo just stood next to her awkwardly as he wondered what was going on. He was far from an expert in business, but he stayed around Jennifer enough that he knew Ian Caedry was a wealthy tycoon who controlled a vast consortium of companies that used dragons for freight, transportation, and logistics.

In comparison, Jay (Jennifer's father) owned a much smaller dragon ranch, but Apollo wasn't a freighter dragon—he was a race dragon, and his egg had been a birthday gift to Jennifer more than a decade ago.

Suddenly Rafale jumped to her feet and started pacing around him. "Um, hello...?" Apollo tried.

"Hello to you too..." Rafale replied. She made an indecisive noise. "Eh. Your colour's alright. At least you aren't brown; brown is such a boring colour."

Apollo glanced down at his ultramarine scales. Jennifer had told him that discussing someone's colour was usually considered impolite and possibly very offensive, but that was amongst humans. Was this how dragons normally talked with each other? He sat down and watched with bewilderment as Rafale walked around to peer at him from all angles.

"Hmm. No neck frill, short horns—typical racer. Overall you're a bit short, though if you're winning races I won't complain. Clearly your performance yesterday showed that you can put up speed where it matters. I've seen your lineage; you've had racing dragons in your blood for generations and it shows in the way you flew yesterday," Rafale murmured.

"What? My lineage? What are you doing?" Apollo asked, unable to contain his confusion as the dragoness pulled open his left wing and started comparing his wingspan against her own.

"I'm getting a good look at you, obviously. Just look at those wings—that's a good aspect ratio...and those muscles are nice. Just you wait, we'll get down to it soon enough," Rafale replied.

"Get to what?" Apollo asked. Rafale didn't respond; instead she grabbed Apollo's muzzle with her forepaw and started peering at his teeth. He tried to jerk his head away. "Hey stop that!" he exclaimed, getting slightly annoyed. What was Rafale doing?

"Reminder—patience is attractive. With all the money Ian's paying, you could at least take your time and treat me nice."

"Take my time with what? Could you stop staring at my teeth and explain what's going on here?" Apollo asked.

The malachite dragoness let go of his muzzle, looking surprised. She sat down in front of him, frowning at him slightly. "You don't know what's going on? Didn't that Jennifer girl tell you?" she asked.

Apollo shook his head. "No one has told me anything! I don't know why you're staring at my teeth, or measuring my wings, or checking the colour of my scales. Can you please explain?"

Rafale made an amused noise and stood up again. "Heh." She grabbed Apollo's tail and straightened it out to measure its length.

Apollo snatched his tail back and extended a single talon to point it at her. "Stop that. Answer the question. What were Ian and Jay talking about? Why am I here? What business do we have?"

The former champion sat down on all fours and started preening her scales, grinning at him. "Guess," she suggested.

Apollo sighed. "Uh, you're looking all over my body because you're planning to build a giant statue of me?"

Rafale laughed out loud at that. "Hahaha! Very good. You're funny—I like that. Haha." When Apollo still looked baffled, her laughter abruptly stopped. "Wait, you're serious? A dragoness is looking over you and complimenting your lineage, but you can't guess why? Alright, I'll give you the whole story then. Do you know who I am?"

"You're Rafale, three-time former champion of the regional air race; competed in the national races four years ago," Apollo said. As part of his training, he'd borrowed Jennifer's laptop and looked into the history of the regional dragon races on Wikipedia. It hadn't been very easy to press the tiny keys with his claws, but he'd managed.

Rafale nodded and patted her chest. "Correct! I'm Rafale, nice to meet you too. And do you know why I'm a 'former' champion?"

"Because...because you crashed last year, injuring your wings," Apollo said.

Rafale abruptly snapped her left wing fully open, revealing a tattered aerofoil and a large scar crossing the leading edge. "Correct again! I believe 'Rafale flies her last race' was how the newspapers phrased it. Ouch." She glared at Apollo, who was trying not to stare too hard at the damaged wing. He'd seen some pictures online, but it was different to see her in person.

"Stop looking so apologetic. I don't want or need pity!" Rafale snapped, sounding mildly irritated. "I can still fly, and I was getting a bit too old to keep racing anyway. I'm moving on to the simpler pleasures in life, which brings us to why we're here today. How would you prefer to mate, in the air or on the ground?"

Apollo blinked in surprise. This was unexpected, to say the least. "Wait, what?"

Rafale sighed, feigning disappointment although it was quite clear she was enjoying toying with the drake. "Huuh. Here I was thinking that you were such a literate dragon. You know, I don't think I've ever heard a dragon speak as clearly as you do. Your voice barely echoes at all—if you answered a phone call, I bet you could easily pass off as human. Your owner must really like chatting with you. Anyway, let's try this again: Hello, I'm Rafale the dragoness. Nice to meet you Apollo, shall we make an egg?"

Apollo tried to process what she was saying. Jennifer had always enjoyed teaching him about how the world worked, but the reproductive processes were one aspect she had largely omitted. Dragons came from eggs and eggs were laid by dragonesses; beyond stating that fact, she had always become uncomfortable and changed the topic whenever he'd brought it up.

Jay (Jenifer's father)'s ranch raised haulers and freight carrier dragons, but they were mostly illiterate and they hadn't taught him much either. Apollo had also tried to ask them about where eggs were supposed to come from, but they hadn't been very willing to chat with him. All he had ascertained was that genitals were involved in some way. Apollo had then resorted to searching the information up online, but most of what he had found only talked about humans, not dragons. He just decided to be honest with the malachite dragoness. "I—I don't know," he admitted.

Rafale rolled her eyes. "Well thanks! If you think I'm that ugly, you can just say so. I'll go bury myself in a hole and cry."

"No, I mean I—I really have no idea what's going on here. Why do you want to make an egg? Why me? What was that about money earlier? What business does your owner have with mine?"

Apollo's list of questions got cut off when Rafale stood up, walked over, and started licking him on the neck. It was such an odd, unexpected motion, but it made a chill run down his back. Her tongue felt warm, and wet, and oddly pleasant against his sensitive scales. But why was she licking him? He'd never seen any human lick anything they weren't about to eat. They licked ice cream and lollipops, not each other. "Um what? What are you doing? Why are you licking me?"

"Wow, you're truly something, aren't you?!" Rafale exclaimed. "I've never seen a dragon act so much like a human—I'm surprised you aren't walking on two legs! Your owner must have raised you entirely by hand."

Apollo was completely puzzled by this comment. This whole conversation was only serving to confuse him even further. All the freighter dragons back on the ranch had a simple, straightforward way of talking (which often devolved into monosyllabic grunts), and neither Jennifer nor Jay had even tried to talk in such an unhelpful manner. "Yes, Jennifer raised me from the egg. What does that have to do with anything? You know, you really are very bad at answering questions. I don't think you've properly answered even a single question so far."

"Okay, let's try this again from the third time. I'm licking you because that's what dragons do to show affection. Have you really never met another dragon before?" Rafale muttered. Her explanation made something click in Apollo's mind. Back on his home ranch he'd seen the freighter dragons lick each other; he had assumed this was to clean their scales, but since he was a racing dragon they had never really accepted him. Certainly Jennifer, who had thought him all he knew about the world, had never thought to explain how to act like a dragon. Apollo was about to say something to Rafale, but she spoke first.

"Hint, hint. This is the part where you start licking me back," she said.

"Oh, sorry." Apollo stuck out his tongue and tentatively licked Rafale's neck...once. Then he paused and said, "But you still haven't explained what's going on."

His protest made Rafale take a step back and wrap a wing around her head. "For the love of... Are you a drake or not?! Can you just mate me first and then ask all your questions later?"

Rafale turned around and raised her tail, pointing her haunches at him. "Step one; sniff this. Just do it. Don't ask why. Don't ask any more questions."

Apollo immediately wanted to ask more questions, but Rafale's genital slit was wet and swollen, and seeing it made him oddly curious in a way he hadn't been just a few seconds ago. How exactly did dragons make eggs?

"Ok, I can do that," he said. The drake leaned in close and sniffed her slit, and then the scent of arousal started to awake primal urges. The smell seemed to dig into his brain and drag him closer. He breathed deeply, and moved closer until his snout almost brushed against Rafale's raised tail. Pheromones started to cloud his thoughts, and a simpler part of his mind began to take over from rational thought. "That's a really nice smell," he commented. The smell of a female in heat was like nothing he'd ever smelt before. Apollo started to lick Rafale's slit, running his tongue over her exposed vent just to get more of it. It was something he would never have thought to do only a minute ago, but now it seemed like the most natural action in the world.

Rafale stuck her head around to watch him lick at her nether regions. "Thank you! It seems like you can act like a drake after all. That does miracles for my self-esteem."

Her admission surprised Apollo. Rafale had been acting with a continuous air of smug self-confidence all this time, or at least that was how he'd seen it. "Self-esteem? You were the best flyer in the regional, thrice! What do you have to be worried about?" he asked, in between licks.

Rafale gasped slightly, enjoying the feeling of his tongue slowly running across her slit. "Ah. But that was before I crashed, before I smashed up my wing. I'm not a racer anymore. That's why I can take the time to have eggs now."

"Oh. I guess that makes sense." Apollo kept licking her, enjoying the taste of her arousal on his tongue. It was an odd, salty, metallic taste—he didn't know why he liked it, but he just did. "I've never done this anything like this before. I really have no idea what to do."

"That's alright. I've mated plenty of drakes before, just not while I was in heat." Rafale turned around and grabbed Apollo firmly by his penis. He twitched slightly at the sudden contact with his sensitive organ. Why had that come out? That was something that usually only happened in the morning as he was waking up, or when he needed to pee.

Rafale hummed softly. "Hmm. Step two; wait till your cock is nice and long and hard. Good for sticking in a dragoness. Don't worry, after your first time I'm sure this will all come naturally to you." She turned round and raised her tail again, presenting her hindquarters to him. Her slit was wet and swollen, dripping with arousal and just waiting for a drake to penetrate. "Carry on."