Don't Ju-Lie to Me 4/4 - The Dragon's Hoard (Patreon)

"It wasn't enough to turn all my handmaidens into simpering sapphics-" The elven captain turned the lock with a grunt, tucking the key away somewhere on her person; it was hard to tell where. "And it wasn't enough to seduce all my best knights into your personal pedicure pets. And you even had to divert all agricultural deliveries through the Arkaulesi Canyon into bringing you fresh rose! And none of it was enough!"

Yawning, the dragon idly tested her bonds. "I'm a queen, darling. I need only the best."

Holding up a hand, the scowling elf hushed her. "BUT. You then had to put the cherry on the top of the cake, and mock my kingdom's best alchemists!"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Still frowning fiercely, the elf waved a gloved hand in the direction of the dragon's massive chest. It had definitely grown a few cup sizes since last they had met - well, more than a few cups, at least a handful of pounds. They swayed as she stretched, the elf watching with vicious envy, huge and rosy and bouncing every time she took too deep a breath. Tits like that could be the end of an empire. Anyone would bow to jugs that voluminous.

"They're natural, darling."

The dragon's dismissive tone made the elf only grow angrier. "You little-! Gods. Gods! You're unbearable. You made these-! These water balloons, these goddamn zeppelins-! You made them to mock me, to scorn my leadership, to overthrow the domain of the Ivy Queen! To topple the great forest hall with these damned wrecking balls!"

She slapped one breast. It bounced and the dragon owning them pouted.

"You don't think your wonderful Ivy Court would be able to resist these little things?" She swayed, allowing them to rock back and forth. Pendulous. Hypnotic. "You must be underselling your folk, fey."

Snarling, the elf cracked her knuckles. "The only thing that can fight a pair of tits like that is a bigger pair of tits. Standard warfare."

"Oooh, my little tactician. But I'm afraid your frame wouldn't be able to support such assets..."

"Not me, you perverted overgrown gecko. I wouldn't be able to lead the troops with those in the way. We have the purest ladies in the kingdom ready to be our front-line Breast Force and help bolster our kingdom against the likes of you."

Pouting her lips, the dragon smiled. "A lady's secrets, dear. The violet dragon would never spill her recipe, hm?"

Finally a smile came to the elf's lips. She indicated her assistent. "Lysanthir."

The shorter half-elf nodded anxiously. "Y-yes, ma'am."

Both women positioned themselves at either side of the dragoness, hands ready. While Lysanthir's hands were clad merely in fingerless leather gloves, suiting for a scribe-slash-general lackey, the captain's were dressed in a long black pair of velvet gloves, soft and luxurious. The dragon queen watched the hands coolly.

"What do you plan to do, pet?"

"Get answers."

Her next chiding comment was snuffed out by a sharp, bubbly laugh. The chains suddenly made sense - she tugged but couldn't defend her belly, ribs and pits from the sudden onslaught of spidering fingertips. The captain sneered. Lysanthir gulped. Who would know that the dragoness really was ticklish? That knight who came back wasn't kidding. He'd been captured and turned into her foot-kissing servant for a few weeks, and from all accounts had enjoyed it massively, but was un-captured (much to his own disappointment) by a scouting crew as he collected lavender to make a scented foot lotion.

He'd mentioned something along the lines of licking and rubbing her soles, and being surprised to hear a chuckle. When he'd asked what it was, she avoided the question and smothered any further inquiry using her long, smooth feet. It'd taken a while to make him confess this - he seemed reluctant to relinquish any information about his new scaly friend, but a few hours of edging tends to break a man quite nicely - and it was a shock to witness the proof of his claims in the flesh.

The dragoness managed to swallow her laughter and shot the captain a venomous look.

"Y- you think this'll make me talk? P- pah."

"Eventually, yes. The Ivy Guard is known for persistence. You'll sing your recipe out to us, whether it takes us ten minutes or ten hours."

"Be- snrk!" She snorted and gulped down a giggle as Lysanthir's fingers glided against her underarms. "Be ready for some stiff hands, then. You'll b- be here for a while."

"Lysanthir is in charge of records at the castle. Writing scores and scores of knowledge each day. Why do you think I'd brought a scribe along with me, if not for her robust hands?"

"Hnf... I thought it was because she's a little cutie." She winked at the half-elf, who quickly turned pink. "A skilled little tickler with th- those nimble hands."

"Th- thank y-"

"Don't thank her, Lysanthir. Don't humour the beast. We're here to get answers."

Her fingertips drummed at the dragon's soft belly, earning her a stiffled, tittering laugh. The dragon squirmed, twisting slightly and grunting in her effort to keep her mirth inside. The captain could hear her breathing hard through her nose. Soon, she'd crack. She was sure of it.

"Focus her pits, Lysanthir. She's weakest where her skin is softest. Pits, belly, thighs."

"Y- yes- um-"

"What is it?"

Meeting the captain's gaze, Lysanthir nudged her glasses up, face flushed. "N- nothing, ma'am."

"Don't let her jugs distract you. That's what she wants. The fiend."

"Yes m-ma'am."

The dragoness winked at the half-elf and continued gently snaking her tail up the latter's skirt. It was always curious to see a member of the Ivy Court not wearing something translucent (if anything at all), so the pleated blue fabric piqued her interest - and what a lovely treat beneath it! A beautiful sensitive length, perfect for wrapping the soft part of her tail around and geeeently stroking...

Lysanthir muffled a moan as she tried not to rock her hips into the dragon's touch. She had to focus. Focus on tickling the cruel creature's smooth, soft underarms. The hollows were gorgeous. Her member stiffened. She'd never seen underarms that were anywhere near this appealing - they sprung back from her touch like taut, smooth dough and each scrape and scratch made the tail around her member jerk suddenly, nearly making her knees buckle.

They smelled of... lilacs...

"Don't get distracted!"

She snapped out of it suddenly with a splutter of "S-sorry, ma'am!"

"We can't interrogate an awful beast if you're getting distracted with sniffing her armpits. Focus on tickling the monster, Lysanthir, I swear."

Nodding fervently, she went back to her work, trying to ignore the slow stroking of the dragon's tail, occasionally quickening as the dragon withstood the ticklish touches at her belly and hollows. The dragon didn't seem close to cracking - she was barely even giggling yet...

Prodding her glasses back up with her shoulder, she looked around the cavern. Cushy. Gold and ferns decorated the dramatic red jags of the walls. Scattered around were half-filled jars and bottles. They were labelled...

Dates, on jars of clear, slightly purple-tinted liquid.

Names, written in draconic, on tall, slim bottles of something whitish, the colour of cream...

"Lysanthir, I notice you've stopped."

The captain raised an eyebrow but Lysanthir could only sense the dragon's growing grin. Names... the guards that went missing, they...

She rocked into the accellerating stroke of the tail.

"Lysanthir. Back to the material plane, now. We don't need you off with the elementals."

They were all half-elves...?

"Ma'am, I-!"

Her eyes went bright.

"The recipe, it's-!"

"Yes!" The dragon was laughing now, half out of ticklishness, half glee. "Such a sm-a-a-art little scribe! Ngh!"

The captain squeezed the dragon's belly hard, eyes fiery. "What?! What is it?!"

"The- the bottles- it's- there's a reason she's had- knights give her- nnf- massages and pedicures- I-!"

"Spit it out, woman! Talk, or you're going in chains too!"

Lysanthir's eyes rolled back. "L-lavender oil, d-dr-dragon sweat and- and-!"

Her voice trailed off into a squeak as she moaned, knees collapsing inwards. An arc of white sprayed across the cave ground and her entire body shook. The dragon, still chuckling and giggling inanely, gave her a few more shaky pumps before her tail dropped to the ground.

"And- ha-" Lysanthir knocked her glasses up with a trembling hand. "And th- the- um- seed of a haaa- half elf..."

The captain looked around the room and let out a long, low growl.

"You devious wretch. Stealing my men for- for- that!"

"Nngh... all's fair in love and war, my elven pet..."

"Well, the ingredients aren't exactly hard to come by." Perusing the various empty bottles and dried herbs, the captain's eyes turned cruel and cold for a sudden, frightening moment. "In fact..."

Lysanthir laughed anxiously as she saw her superior advance towards her.

"Ma'am...?"

"It'd seem that we have plenty of supplies riiight here."