The Bigger They Are

Camilla cowered. "I mean, I was told I was going to be sacrificed."

The dragon stretched, scales glimmering in the morning light. "Were you now, little lamb?"

"I... know that every ten years there's a virginal sacrifice selected from my village, and... it was tradition that our family..."

"Uh huh," the dragon agreed. Its claws screeched against the stone ledge as it spread its magnificent wings. They were leathery, but so delicate they were almost transparent. Camilla knew this was a sham; they were tougher than chainmail.

The dragon lowered its head and viewed Camilla through slitted eyes. Camilla shrank a little when she smelled its breath.

"So, little lamb, have you made yourself more palatable for me? Have you taken the daily baths after your faith was announced to you?"

The dragon stroked Camilla's long, dark hair with the tip of one shiny black nail. Camilla suppressed a shiver.

"I have bathed daily, lord dragon."

"And have you used scented oils on your precious skin?"

"I have used scented oils, lord dragon." Camilla's voice was meek but not shaky.

"And have you dressed in a special, easily digestible ceremonial gown, my little lamb?"

"I have, lord dragon. No metal buckles. No bra. No laces that would get stuck on your teeth."

Morning sun bathed the breathtaking view in front of them. Camilla could see all the way to the river: her village was just beyond the great looping bend. When she'd been a child, she'd wondered why the dragon was such a worry when its mountain was so far away. From this direction, the village looked to be almost at--she glanced at the dragon's gnarly feet--claw's reach.

The dragon licked its lips slowly. Its tongue was deep purple, its fangs white. Camilla shivered, imagining those teeth ripping into her young, tender flesh.

"And?" prompted the dragon.

"And?" asked Camilla, playing the fool.

"And have you stayed a virgin, preserving your delights for me?"

The corner of Camilla's mouth twitched. She straightened, turning her back towards the view, and faced the dragon. She had been waiting for this question.

"No, I have not," she said, looking at the dragon's huge, violet eyes.

"No?!" hissed the dragon.

"No! I used what little time I had to gain as much practical knowledge of earthly pleasures as I possibly could!"

Shiver passed through the dragon's ridged back. Camilla pressed on. "I have fucked men! I have fucked women! I have fucked both men and women at the same time! I have howled at the moon when half a dozen naked bodies were caressing me under the velvety skies! I have come a thousand times in the hands of another!"

The dragon blinked slowly, the great lid descending and ascending like a cloud over the moon. It looked perplexed. "But... I..."

"But, you," Camilla mocked in a sing-song voice. "You forgot that girls can read too, you big worm. You forgot that you once told one of your victims a way to defeat you. What you didn't know, you arrogant lizard, was that her beloved had followed her and was laying just beyond the ledge, listening in on you. Her heart was sick with grief and sorrow, when she listened to you devour her true love, but she managed to stay hidden and not come fight you to death as had been her plan, because she knew that revealing that information could one day be your true downfall. And thus, after three generations, here I am!"

"But... Carla?" asked the dragon, looking even more confused.

"Arlena!" said Camilla, and with a swift motion she gathered her dress at her waist, turned her back at the dragon, and bent over. The dragon hissed and pulled back, but the stony hillside prevented it from fleeing.

"Smell my cunt! Shrivel before my femininity! Meet your doom in the tender flesh of a womanly body!"

The dragon whimpered, and the stone ledge trembled when it thrust upon the hillside, trying to crawl as far away from Camilla's offending quim as it could. "Not... fair..." it croaked.

"Not fair? Not fair!" shouted Camilla, spreading her ass with her hands to give the reptile an even clearer view of her genitals, and concentrated.

With a single aromatic, echoing queef, the ancient power succumbed. The dragon shriveled and wailed, as it trashed, dying.

Thus began the feministic reign of Camilla the Cunty, who led her people into a new and exciting, lusty and equal future.

And everybody lived happily ever after.