Tentacle Trappings

Every hole, every opening... It was all there for him to take, the passion of the plant breeding him coming to a head in the pounding, driving thrusts of the tentacles. They knew just how to breed him too, plunging deep into his warmth and his tail hole alike, anal ring trying to close down even within his cloaca. There was no keeping them out, alas, and neither did he want to force them away, grunting around the one slipping into his mouth as it did its very best to seal away his cries, jaws hanging open to take the most in possible. He groaned encouragingly, the dragon's tail lashing and twisting into the body of the vines, the flower from which they all originated from blocking out his vision, a soft, rising mass of pink and gold, exotic even as it quivered there so very sweetly.

The tentacle in his mouth was a stranger sort though as it plunged and quested for more, seeming to want something of him. The tip was nowhere near as tapered as the other ones and he wrapped his tongue curiously around it, suckling it into his mouth as it released such a sweet flavour into his mouth and even straight down his throat too that he wanted to suckle on it even more. It wouldn't let him stop, vision hazing over, his line of sight taken up by a writhing mass of pink-tinted tentacles, the glow hardly fading, though the light of it did not grow any stronger.

And neither did he want to stop, twisting and grinding, using his wings for some measure of forcing himself back onto the tentacles, the ones around the base of his cock hardly touching, not even tickling. He wanted more! They'd have to deliver it too if they didn't want an angry dragon on their vines and the plant seemed to know it too - or, at least, Xigfeldo liked to think of it in that way, that he could have that control over the plant too. He was a dominant soul at heart rather than a submissive one and, damn it, he wanted everything the kinky little plant had to offer and so very much more too.

He could not cry out noticeably though with the tentacle-shaft ploughing his muzzle, releasing more and more sweetness down his throat, though he could not tell whether it was an orgasm or not. Xigfeldo moaned out what he could though, the vines under his tail speeding up, grinding into him, ploughing deeper and harder, the multiple lengths in his cunny forcing him wider and wider as they thickened up noticeably. The one in his backdoor entrance too was due a partner as first one and then another crammed their way in anxiously along with the first, intent only on the lust of a plant that existed to drink down his seed, to bring passion from his essence.

And yet...something more too could be born from him, if only he was brave enough (and he was) to take the tentacle plant's seed. The first shot caught him completely by surprise, not even coming with a single hint of warning, no tremble and no pulse in the sensuous length of the tentacle. Yet it was creamy even with a passionate flair of fruit and delectable...something. He could not have described the taste even if someone had tried to make him find the words, drinking it all down with heady gulps, throat working noisily to make sure that not a single drop went to waste. It was, at the very least, like biting into passion fruit, taking that fruit deep and sinking his teeth into it, a mango's juice running between his teeth, sticky and moreish at the same time.

All of it. He wanted it all, every last single drop, swallowing and swallowing harder and harder as the stream refused to taper off. It was only with the deluge from that tentacle-shaft that the ones ploughing his pussy and tail hole also let loose, the flood splashing hotly into him, seeming warmer than they actually were considering how cool his body normally ran. That was just the way Xigfeldo was but that most certainly wasn't going to stop him from clenching and squeezing down delightfully around those hot lengths, the thrusting drive sending him into orgasmic peals and spirals of pleasure, rising up and up and up.

Climax was only the start of it as his cock suddenly was engulfed, though it took him a few, long seconds to realise just what was happening there. Hot, long spurts flooded both of his passages, cloaca strained around him, though there was another tentacle parting around his cock, sucking it deep into what he could only possibly say felt entirely like a mouth suckling on his shaft, although it was softer and more pliable than any muzzle that he had ever had the pleasure to adore. Still, it didn't stop him from thrusting and rocking, torn between pushing his hips back onto those tentacles and ramming into the new one, the one that pulsed and twitched around his cock just like a throat, egging him on to thrust deeper and harder.

The tentacles knew, they had to have known, just what he was thinking, slamming and grinding, allowing him to brace against them as they formed a more stable platform under his feet. His claws dug into them but all Xigfeldo knew was the drive of pleasure, cock wanting to climax, his internally held testis churning and rumbling, his guts twisting. It was more than he could bear and a dragon like him could cum more than once - so why bother holding back such passion when it was right there for the taking?

His roar was muffled but he still unleashed his load, both male and female parts of him climaxing together, cock twitching and spurting, prehensile and yet not quite able to thrust as he wanted to into the tentacle-mouth. But that was okay, as long as he got what he needed. And the plant was more than happy to give him every last little thing he needed, milking him of that orgasm with rippling pulse after pulse, the massage like a hand-like paw closing around him over and over again, drumming on hard ground. It was so perfectly calculated without any tiny element of the erratic that he could not see it as a dragon-like entity as himself, things coming together in a cacophony of sensation, all of which had to, individually, be paid attention to.

Snarling deep in the back of his mouth, although the sound went nowhere, Xigfeldo didn't hold back from letting his teeth graze the vine, knowing that it would be fine. It was tougher than that, tougher than him - after all, it had been crafted by dragons, planted by them too. That was just a part of its genetic make-up, what allowed it to be so kinkily lustful and what made it twist around him and pound his holes so delightfully, working towards its fervent high, bit by bit. There was more to come even as it milked his cock, the tentacle in his anal passage driving him on, forcing him, still willingly, to climax over and over again, one orgasm simply not enough for either of them. And that was all they needed, dragon and plant coming together in lustful passion, drama flourishing through, lifting them up on the high of an updraft that only one of them could ever enjoy in such a manner.

Xigfeldo's mind drifted, for once able to truly let himself go in the high of the plant's embrace. The flower seemed to throb like a dragoness' parted folds, her cloaca inviting him in, before his very eyes but he knew, even then, that the plant was by no means any kind of entity that would come back or speak of his prowess. Of course, he enjoyed when others talked about how sexually proficient he was, how many times he had gotten them off like no one else ever had, but being free to tease and experiment too was a joy and a liberty in itself.

He didn't have to pull out any tricks and, indeed, he didn't have to move at all if he didn't want to, allowing himself but a moment to rest in the softly supportive tentacles, entrapping him so softly that it was all he could do not to roll over into their embrace and lose himself there completely. They had him and, damn, did Xigfeldo know it too, tail twisting into the tentacles, encouraging them on, a pulsing flood of their juices flowing into him, up under his tail, into his cunny. His passageway for such fluids took every drop in gladness and thanks, sending it off into the chambers that his body could store it away for later use, though his tail hole would simply be forced to take it all, seeping up into his body and forcing him through a very pleasant feeling of fullness. For him, it was not enough to feel inflated or anything of that ilk, although that may have very well have been something he would have wanted to play with later if the plant could be found again.

Until then... He would enjoy the spurts, hot, thick juice flooding him. He could not say it was semen but, perhaps, he would find out later just what it was made up of, but that was just what his body was doing in storing it so he could find out more, never wanting to let things go to waste when he could experiment in the eroticism of it all. There was more, so much more, and he moaned around the shaft in his mouth, another one squeezing in beside it, forcing his jaws to their widest extent as he eagerly gulped around them. He didn't even taste the juice flowing down his throat, so deeply were they rammed, but holding his breath for a while wasn't a problem either as they crammed their way down his throat, forming a noticeable bulge that his repression of a gag reflex was more than able to take care of.

He wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else, revelling in each and every little moment, lips parted, though he could not have said that he did not at least lightly score the vines with his teeth. His healing power and intent would aid them in sealing closed in swifter time than normal but the strain under his tail was too great for him to not want to tense and respond in other ways too. Pulled every which way, his body convulsed in the best of ways, gyrating and twisting, trying to find which spot gave him the most pleasure, even though the true answer to that question was, of course, all of them. Everything gave him a different nuance as he was pounded and flooded, the tentacle around his shaft drawing back only to wrap around him again in a slenderer form.

That sensation... Oh, that was the crème de la crème of it all, the grand finale that had him blasting a roar out around the ones crammed down his throat, finding the last burst of breath with which to do so. It rippled and massaged his length just like the tease of a dragoness' pussy - not quite a taint, unfortunately - and he could not help but release his strongest orgasm yet, milked to completion and heaving lustfully, panting hard and fast, though nothing he did was anywhere near enough to snatch enough breath into his lungs to ease the ache there.

On and on, he was flooded through with the seed of the plant, panting and twisting, though he didn't possess or need the capacity to sweat, even though he was hotter than usual. Still, anyone else would have considered him to be cool to the touch, need rising, flushing up full and heady, tail twitching, his cock pulsing and pulsing until had spent every last drop that, at that time, he had to offer onto the tentacles writhing beneath him. He would have kept on though if not for the plant having done the deed that it was crafted to do, tentacle-vines teasing lightly from him, leaving his holes empty but, as always, still very much as tight as they'd ever been.

Xigfeldo smirked. He'd never be loose like a lesser dragon, never used up. The passion that thrummed through his blood would keep him young for centuries upon centuries.

As the plant slipped free from him, Xigfeldo found himself already in motion, the sweet scent winding itself around him and drawing him forward, step by step, a little pulse and flutter of his wings helping him hop from one 'perch' of tentacles to the next. The rolling, undulating sea pushed him on, not able to hang back for the want of something more, shaking his tail, though not a drop of the plant's seed slopped from him. No, his body was far too clever to let such a sweet treat go to waste and sealed it away for later perusal, although he did spare himself a moment to lick his lips salaciously, simply enjoying the taste as it lingered there, thick and heady in his mouth.

The petals of the giant flower, larger than he was, rustled and bloomed, swelling with life, growing larger and larger. And yet, even as they grew, they fell apart too, one petal after the other falling away as he murmured his appreciation of the show, a show that, of course, could only possibly have been put on by the green dragons. For what he had known earlier was that the green dragon princess, Yverta, had had to have been the one who had created and planted the vines, the flower that had brought him such delight, and now was allowing him passage through the mountain into the lands of the green dragons.

A reclusive sort, he could not help but admire all that they had done to preserve the fertility of their lands, rich and green and perfect for sowing crops, for keeping and maintaining life where there had, before, only been barren wastelands. They had done so much that it made sense that they wanted to protect it but Xigfeldo was honoured to be invited through to the green beyond, walking straight through the flower itself into a tunnel on the other side, which was lined with similar pink petals as if the very tunnel was formed of the plant itself. Maybe it still lived or maybe it would close up again, though that was a question he would have to ask of Yverta herself.

Still, he had a way to go yet and he hummed a tune to himself, head held high, as he followed the natural light of the tunnel back to the outside world where the green dragons resided. Time would tell the answers to that story and he groaned softly in the back of his throat, eyes alight and dancing, a spring in his step and a curl in his tail, flicking back and forth in a feline fashion.

If this is how Yverta greets her guests, what more could be waiting there?

Xigfeldo grinned, showing his teeth. Only his arrival would tell the answer to that one.

And he couldn't wait to get there.