Pussy and Brimstone
M/M, 1.9k. A supernatural herbalist offers a middle-aged arthritic human treatment and more.
Language: Tits, t-cock, cock, clit, pussy, cunt.
CW semi-graphic snuff threats, smoking.
“Hey.”
Joel looks up from his phone, which he had been squinting at rather helplessly, trying to work out if he had taken the right turn or not, and meets eyes with a man standing outside of the nondescript suburban house. He’s big. Rather, he’s broad, with hairy, muscled arms and equally hairy tits that are barely contained by a thin white tank top.
He’s got long hair and a round, young face. He looks to be half Joel’s age, except for the glowing golden eyes that look as if they’ve seen eternity. Otherwise, he looks almost like any other hip 20-something, but Joel doesn’t let out any of the tension he’s been holding since he got off the bus 10 minutes ago. Looks, after all, can be deceiving.
He’s thrown a robe on over top, covering his bottom half with pyjama pants and house slippers with dirt all over the soles. He’s smoking something out of a long, thin pipe with an equally sleek bowl. The smoke is an unnatural purple and pink, rolling not just from the pipe itself, but from between his plump, chapped lips and billowing from his nostrils like, well, like a dragon.
That checks out.
“Hey,” Joel chokes out. God, his hands are shaking. He’s never done something like this before, and somehow he just hadn’t considered it might make him nervous.
“Joel?” the man asks.
“Eydisson?”
“Knott is fine,” the man replies as he pushes himself off the wall and walks closer to Joel. “Better to go by Eydisson online.”
Joel blinks at him, having to tilt his head back a little with the way the man a good head taller than him. “Your name is Knott Eydisson?”
“Indeed.” He taps the pipe a few times and it snuffs out, the smoke fading. “Is that a problem?” As he speaks more, Joel is starting to hear an accent, one that he can’t quite identify, but then, it’s likely an accent from a dead language.
“It’s just- I mean, why not choose something a bit more…”
“Normal?” Knott asks, rifling through the pockets of his robe, his long auburn hair falling over his handsome face.
“No! Well, yes, but-” Joel can feel his cheeks going hot, spreading along his face as Knott looks at him, one side of his mouth curled upwards.
“It was normal,” Knott tells him. “At the time.”
“Ah.”
“Indeed,” Knott says again. He produces a small vial filled with pitch black liquid from his pocket at last. He taps it with a fingernail which is purple and sharp, and the scales along the backs of his palm glimmer in the light of the setting sun. “One drop in the morning. No more, no less.”
“This will really treat it?”
Knott shrugs, then he opens up the bottle, using the pipette inside to withdraw a drop. “Open.”
Joel is too stunned to do anything but open his mouth. Knott leans in, looming over him, the smell of smoke and lavender lingering in the air as he squeezes, a single drop of the inky liquid landing on Joel’s tongue. He stands there for a moment, frozen, and Knott clicks his tongue, tapping Joel’s jaw shut with a single finger.
“Swallow.”
Joel swallows.
The effect is almost immediate, the ever-present ache in Joel’s joints fading away to near-nothingness. He sighs, unable to help but close his eyes and Knott leans away, corking the vial again. Joel knows he needs to pay the man, but it’s been more than 30 years of varying levels pain, and he just wants to take a moment. Knott doesn’t seem bothered by the wait, at least.
When he finally opens his eyes, Knott is scrolling through his phone, tapping at the screen, careful not to scratch it with his nails.
“I had forgotten,” Joel tells him. “What it was like not to hurt.”
“Hm,” Eydisson reply. This is clearly not as revolutionary for him as it is for Joel.
Feeling embarrassed, Joel pulls his wallet out of his pocket, but he’s struggling to get it open with his nervous shaking, so he wracks his mind for small talk and just says the first thing he can think of, which is “Uh, nice house.”
“I rent the basement.”
What kind of fucking hundreds years old dragon rents a basement suite in a suburb!?
“Oh.”
Then Joel drops his wallet. It lands with a loud slap right on the pavement. It may as well be a thunderclap. Knott leans down, picking it up, but rather than simply handing it back, he opens it up, thumbing through the money inside, and plucks out the appropriate number of bills before holding it out to Joel.
“Business out of the way,” Knott remarks, and Joel nods his head as Knott rolls the vial in his palm. He looks at Joel, golden eyes assessing. “Wanna fuck?”
Joel opens his mouth to tell Knott he’s a bit old for him, but then he remembers Knott is probably a thousand years old (literally). “Uh,” he says.
“You top, right?”
“Uh, can do,” Joel agrees, and Knott hums, hooking two fingers through one of Joel’s belt loops.
“Good. Let’s take those bones for a test drive, then.”
When a gorgeous man tells you to top him, you don’t just say no, so Joel nods, and Knott leads him around back of the nice suburban house to a red wooden door down two cement steps. The inside of the basement is dark, lit primarily by strings of fairy light and the meager slits of light through a half-window.
There’s various pots and vials around the room, as well as a covered glass bowl that looks to contain bread dough.
Knott leads him through it all to another room where there’s a bed, a bedside table, a mini fridge, and nothing else. It’s small, the bed taking up almost the entire room, but Joel supposes it has all they need: the bed.
Knott barely has to nudge him to push him down into it, stripping off his bathrobe and pulling off his tank top before pausing to motion to Joel. “Strip.”
“Right,” Joel croaks. “Sorry.”
He quickly pulls off his t-shirt, unable to look past the swell of his own gut to find his button or zipper, having to feel them both out with his still-shaking hands and work them off as Knott pushes down his pyjama pants and kicks off his slippers. He’s not wearing any underwear, and through the thick curls of his pubic hair, Joel can see a jutting purple cock.
It’s thicker than any human clit Joel’s seen, and he suspects it’s still soft. It’s also pierced, a barbell with a small golden chain on either side practically framing the juicy head. Joel’s cock twitches between his legs as Knott approaches the bed and crawls onto it, tits swaying as he lays out, hair spilling over the sheets.
“On top of me,” Knott tells him. “You don’t want me topping, trust me.”
“Dare I ask why?”
Knott laughs, and Joel can see his forked purple tongue, his sharp teeth.
“I’d probably break your fucking hips.”
“Oh.”
Joel tells himself that this statement of fact is not in any way arousing as he rolls onto his belly, holding himself up on his arms over Knott’s gorgeous body as the dragon lazily rests one knee on either side of him.
He looks over Knott’s body as he takes his cock in hand. He’s broad like Joel, hairy like Joel, but he’s got piercings through his puffy, round nipples and dick, and along his hips, thighs, and the sides of his neck, Joel can see scales. He suspects there’s more on his back, probably his shoulderblades and spine, but to be honest, this is the first dragon Joel’s met in person. The others have all been photographs.
“Not bad for a plain old human,” Knott remarks, just barely dancing one of his claws over the underside of Joel’s cock, and he gives a shaky breath in reply, body flushing with heat. Knott chuckles and coos out “Oh, baby’s got a thing for big, scary beasts who could rip him apart?”
Joel can’t make himself say words, so he just nods.
“I could,” Knott continues. “Just peel your flesh off with my claws, consume your meat and crush your bones with my teeth.”
As he speaks, he’s guiding Joel’s cock to his pussy, gone from half interested to rock hard in an embarrassing amount of time. Joel moans, leaning down and burying his face against Knott’s neck, his beard scraping across the scales. He has no idea if Knott can feel it as he kisses them, but if he can’t, he doesn’t say anything, so Joel licks between the seams and shoves his cock in.
He’s fucking molten inside, almost too hot. It hurts, a little, but not enough to make Joel stop or back out. He moans as he bottoms out, tangling his hands in Knott’s hair. His elbows don’t ache from holding himself up. It’s incredible. He’s sure he’s slack-jawed and ugly as he stares down at Knott, but the creature only looks back at him with lust as he starts to thrust, groaning every time he sheathes himself inside of Knott’s cunt.
Too-hot hands cup the back of his neck, claws tickling the delicate hairs at the base of his skull, and Joel’s teeth scrape over some of the delicate skin available to him, panting and moaning like some sort of wild beast as he fucks Knott open on his throbbing cock. His hips don’t hurt, his elbows don’t hurt, his knees don’t hurt. There is nothing at all to distract him from the incredible pleasure of having sex.
Maybe that’s why he finds himself so close to orgasm already. Normally, it’s a struggle to get off on his own, let alone with a partner, but right now, this mighty beast wrapped around him, tits jiggling against his own pecs with every thrust, pussy enveloping him just so, hot breath in his ear as Knott moans, all Joel knows is that he’s about to come.
“Shit-” he gasps out. “Can’t- Uh-” He starts to pull out, but Knott’s legs tighten around him, nearly tight enough to be a threat, and his cock kicks inside of the dragon’s pussy. “Please, I’m going to come.”
“Then come,” Knott answers. “Fill me.”
Joel shudders out a moan, speeding up his thrusts desperately before his hips stutter and he feels himself spilling inside of the molten hole clutching him so tight.
He collapses on top of Knott, body shaking, and the dragon’s legs slowly lower, the mighty creature relaxing back in the bed with a sigh.
“Sorry,” Joel manages after a minute or two of catching his breath.
“Mind if I smoke?” Knott asks.
“Uh, no, go ahead. I- sorry.”
Knott hums, spreading his legs further, stuffing some petals into his pipe and lighting them before reaching down to spread apart his pussy lips, his hole winking and dripping Joel’s seed, his purple t-cock standing proud and slick.
“If you’re really sorry,” he says. “Then I suggest you stop apologizing and do something useful with you mouth.”
Joel doesn’t need to be told twice. He crawls down Knott’s body, licking up the mess before using his fingers and tongue to bring the mighty beast to orgasm. After that, Knott shares his pipe, and once that’s finished, they fuck again.
By the time Joel is on the bus home, the sun has long set, and his whole body is tingling, the little vial tucked away in his pocket along with a little business card that has Knott’s personal number scrawled onto the back.
