Be a Dragon: Benevolent Sugar Mamas (ch.2) (Patreon)

My internal clock was so powerful that it could be considered a force of nature. Between college, work and a flagging social life, my body learned to adapt to no sleep, hangovers and worse, and I could still wake up at five in the morning. My eyes cracked open, feeling the presence of someone else curled to me, their head resting on my still asleep arm. For a moment, I thought I had managed to sleep in for once, only to realize that it was still night time with a glance at an alarm clock resting on the side table. 

Right. Dragon vision. 

A smile graced my face, a small sigh of contentment escaping me. Kitten muttered sleepily, burying herself into my shoulder even though there was a perfectly serviceable pillow a few inches away. None of it was a dream. I was a dragon, I spent the night having sex with a super hot rich girl. I was in DC comics. That was just fantastic. 

I thought about getting up, maybe making some breakfast but decided against it. If it was my apartment, then I would, but going through someone else’s kitchen felt too creepy to me -- an ‘I went through your stuff while you were sleeping’ kind of way. Normally I would open up a time-waster app on my phone, or goof off on the computer, but neither was an option since I came here in my birthday suit. 

So, what to do until she woke up? Maybe have a think? Maybe about how I found myself here? I was too preoccupied last night with the sex and the whole, you know, being a dragon thing that I hadn’t given it much thought. In all honesty, I kinda figured that it was all a dream. Now, unless it was one of those layered dreams, I’m pretty sure that this was reality. My new reality. 

The last thing that I remember was...walking down a sidewalk from a house party...and...high-beams. A truck. The sound of one of those stupid mufflers that woke up everyone if the bass from its sound system didn’t wake them up worried that there was an earthquake…

Ah. I’m pretty sure I died. 

Right. 

You know what? I think I’m done thinking about that. For...forever. And a half. My brain tried to bring the topic back up by replaying that one moment of realizing the sound was getting closer, seeing the high-beams approach and that moment I realized that it was coming directly at me...and I couldn’t get away, frozen like a deer. Right. Right, right, right. I glanced at the clock to see that it was 5:01 and decided that was enough of that. 

I needed something to do. Preferably Kitten, but molesting a sleeping girl was too rapey for me, even if I’m pretty sure she would be cool with it. You know what? Creepy or not, I’m feeling breakfast. I grabbed the pillow with my free hand, then pulled some Raiders of the Lost Arc shit by replacing my arm with a pillow. Thankfully, things worked out better for me than Harrison Ford and I managed to slip out of bed after untangling her legs from mine. She muttered again unhappily, but she didn’t wake up. Perfect. 

I ran a hand through my hair, eyeing my pink hair with some suspicion. I was expecting some serious bed head after last night, but it was like my hair was almost statically in position. Did I have anime hair? I had the color already, so why not? Casting one last glance at Kitten, who apparently didn’t have anime hair, as she snuggled up into the blankets to compensate for the lack of warmth. 

Satisfied that she wasn’t going to wake up, I headed to the bathroom to get a quick look at my new appearance. I knew where it was thanks to going a few rounds in the shower, but I had been too preoccupied to check myself out beyond a passing glance. I didn’t bother turning on the light as I stood in front of a wide mirror with a bunch of other mirrors attached to it for applying makeup and stuff. 

The first thing that I noticed was that the anime hair didn’t look as bad as I thought. Not only was not a single hair out of place, the pink with the business casual cut complemented each other oddly well. The second thing that I noticed was that I had dragon eyes. Amber color with a slit pupil that practically glowed in the darkness that I couldn’t see. The third thing was that I had a mole by my right eye, not sure what it was doing there but whatever. The third thing that I noticed was that I was mega hot. I saw traces of my old face but it was like I was purged of every single body issue that I had ever given a shit about. 

Sweet. Naturally, I flexed a little in the mirror, admiring the muscles that I didn’t earn. Once I had enough of admiring the goods, I snagged a towel to wrap around my waist to preserve my modesty before quietly exiting the room. Kitten didn’t stir as I left, soundly asleep and exhausted. I hope she woke up soon, though, if only to clarify what last night was. Because I was crossing my fingers for Sugar Mama status, but if this was a one night stand then I needed to figure out my next move. 

Again, I marveled at the casual wealth of this place. From the modern art paintings that probably were worth more money than I had ever seen in my entire life put together, to the mega huge tv, to the fine furniture, to the crystal clear windows that showed the barest hint of the sky lightening, to absolutely everything being spotless. I’m crossing my fingers and my toes for Kitten to be a Sugar Mama because I wanted this taste of wealth to become a recurring thing. 

Humming a tune to myself, I walked into the open kitchen, learning where everything is. Popping open the fridge, I let out a snort as I saw familiar ingredients. The quality might change, but it seemed that college student ingredients were universal. I grabbed a thing of free range eggs, shredded cheese, and some sausage. Grabbing some pans, butter, and tortillas, I went about making some omelet wraps. 

It was fairly basic, all things considered, but it was pretty good. Hopefully, the price tag on these ingredients would make it taste even better. 

With the sausage cooked and the eggs in the pan slowly cooked through, I found the coffee machine. Rich people really had it made -- I’m sure the single-serving espresso machine I was working to make myself a latte was probably worth more than the one in the coffee shop that I worked at. And that one was worth more than my beat-up car already. 

After flipping over the egg, cutting up the sausage, I took a sip of my Cuban coffee latte. It was heresy to those who knew how Cuban coffee was supposed to be drank, but heresy tasted delicious with cane sugar. 

“You’re up early,” I heard Kitten say before I felt her press into my back. She lazily wrapped her arms around my waist, her cheek pressed against my back. “Something smells good,” she muttered as I suppressed a grin. That was promising if she was getting all handsy instead of telling me to hit the road. 

“I figured I owed you some breakfast in bed for picking me up,” I said, earning those brownie points. I heard Kitten chuckle at that, her hands straying to run across my abs. 

“If I knew you had that planned then I would have stayed in bed. You should have seen me come down the stairs -- I’m walking bowlegged,” she informed, giving birth to a pang of manly pride in my chest. Men were simple creatures, we truly were. 

“Oh?” I said, putting the tortilla over the egg then flipping the pan so that it dropped down from it perfectly. After that, I stuffed it with sausage, sprinkled a generous helping of cheese, then folded it in half before putting it back in the pan to help the cheese to melt. “Don’t have another round in you?” 

Kitten scoffed, peeling herself from my back. I glanced at her to see that she was wearing a simple tank top with a pair of yoga pants. A smirk found its way on her face that told me that she caught me looking. I just smirked back shamelessly, uncaring. She stood on her tippy toes, tilting her head back and I kept smirking even as I kissed her. She tasted of mint, telling me that she took the time to freshen up first. 

Shoot, I hope I don’t have morning breath. Hopefully, the coffee would be what she tasted instead. 

“No, I don’t,” she said, dropping back down to break the kiss. “You’ve ruined me and it’s going to take some time to recover,” she said, reaching up to pat my cheek. I felt a mild pang of disappointment at that, but it was overshadowed by pride. “You’re going to have to wait for next time.” 

I casually flipped the wrap, giving her a sideways glance as I did. “Next time?” Crossing my fingers, toes and anything else that would grant me the answer that I wanted. 

Kitten shifted from foot to foot for a moment, biting her lip as she looked up at me. “Yes?” She confirmed though it sounded like a question. “I mean, yeah. If you’re cool with that?” Ah. I forgot, the only person that she dated was...that guy with an actual giant spider for a head. Still not over that. But I’m guessing that I was probably her first booty-call ever. 

“After last night, I’m more than cool with it. Just...do you want this to be something more or are you just wanting a friend with benefits kind of deal?” I asked, realizing that I had to be the one to bring it up or it was going to be a question left unanswered for weeks. Kitten looked like she was caught off guard by the question but she was quick to recover. She glanced at her phone, and I caught a glimpse of a new message. One of...a couple of hundred. 

I’m guessing that Fang wasn’t happy. 

Kitten frowned at the phone before shutting it off, looking up at me squarely. “Can we be friends with benefits? I...me and Fang just broke up, and I’m about to go on an internship for a couple of weeks, soo…” She trailed off hesitantly. 

Ah, that was a shame. I hid my disappointment by plating the omelet wrap before handing it to her with a lopsided grin. “Absolutely,” I agreed, getting an earnest relieved smile from Kitten. “Though, I’ll miss you for the next few weeks. I didn’t know coffee could taste this good.” I said, my tone teasing as I turned off the stove. I only had enough sausage for one. 

Kitten took a seat at the counter, smiling with genuine delight. “You’re welcome to stop by whenever you want. No one’s going to be here until I come back. Daddy-” She flushed, looking away from me, “Dad hasn’t been here since he bought the place for me, so if you want to stay...you can.” She offered and…

I felt bad. There was a line between having a Sugar Mama shower you with expensive stuff in exchange for sex and taking advantage of someone. Getting to live in a place like this felt like it crossed that line. 

But, at the same time, it was a choice between being homeless with no identification or living in a mansion with a great view and a Lamborghini for every day of the week. In the end, that choice wasn’t really a choice. 

“Are you sure?” I questioned, this entire thing sounded just a little too good to be true. “I mean, what about all the cars and stuff?” Kitten gave a dismissive shrug as she took a bite of her omelet wrap. Her eyes widened and she made a show of how good she thought my cooking was to butter me up. I appreciated the gesture though, but I made it more times than I cared to count, and it was hardly worth that reaction. 

“Ohmygod,” Kitten breathed, covering her mouth as she spoke so I wouldn’t have to see chewed up food. “This is so good! Seriously, this is amazing! Are you a chef, or something?” It was empty flattery, but a compliment was a compliment, even if it wasn’t heartfelt. 

“Yeah, I am. But what about all the stuff here? I mean, I appreciate you letting me stay here but-” I started only for Kitten to shake her head. 

“Do what you want with it,” she dismissed...possibly hundreds of millions of dollars worth of stuff with a wave of her hand. “It’s all my dad’s stuff that he sent over when he was saying how we were going to live together, only to bail on me.” Okay, I think I was dead on with her daddy issues. “I’m taking my car with me, and so long as you don’t touch my room, then you can do what you want with the place.”

Huh. 

“But, seriously, you’re a great cook! I think this is, like, the best thing I’ve ever eaten. Ever,” she insisted with a smile. She was really throwing on the compliments for a mediocre meal, but, hey, a compliment was a compliment. Guys didn’t get many of those, so every one meant something because of it. 

“If you keep buttering me up like that…” I said with a grin, earning a blush from Kitten. She finished off the omelet wrap, swallowing before she got off her stool. 

“I can’t,” she said, sounding disappointed by it. “I have to go to my new apartment so I can start my internship. I was supposed to unpack yesterday with my dad, but if I don’t go now, then I won’t be settled in.” Kitten walked up to me, going in for another kiss. Now she tasted of...huh. Maybe she wasn’t exaggerating because she tasted fantastic. 

“And, if you’re that unsure about it, then think of last night as rent for the month,” Kitten said, a hand slipping through the fold of my towel to fondle my balls. “When I come back, then you’ll be due...and if my pussy can’t take it…’ she bit her lip before she rose on her toes again, dragging me down so she could whisper in my ear. 

“I have another hole you can use,” she whispered, giggling when she felt my cock twitch at that. She pressed her lips against mine one last time before pulling away, “thanks for everything. And I’ll see you in a few weeks.” With that, she pulled away, a sway in her tight ass and I thanked whatever god was in the sky for the man that invented yoga pants because there was no way it wasn’t a man that made them. 

She winked at me, clearly enjoying what she did to me as my towel fell off my waist, knocked off by my growing erection. Then, without another word, she closed the door and was gone, leaving me alone. 

In this stupidly amazing mansion. 

In a new universe. 

With an erection. 

…

“Ahhhh,” I sighed, sipping my coffee, now fully dressed after finding a closet full of expensive suits that Kitten’s dad must have sent over. Apparently, we were almost identical in build because they all fit me perfectly. And that was something I didn’t want to think too deeply on. Now, instead of a towel, I wore a pair of form-fitting black business pants and a white button-down tucked in with a black leather belt. It felt wrong to be in a place like this wearing nothing but a bathrobe. 

A hand dug into my pocket, finding something in there as I fumbled with a pair of sunglasses that I was hoping would hide my obviously not human eyes from view. Not sure why Kitten didn’t say anything about them but seeing her previous boyfriend, it was probably because she got off on stuff like that. I pulled it out, finding a blank card. 

Frowning, I flipped it over to see if there was anything on the back. It almost looked like an ID- “Whoa,” I muttered, flipping it back to the front half to see that instead of being blank my picture was staring back at me. My height, eye color, hair color -- it was an ID card. My ID card. “I’m...going to assume that’s magic bullshit and move on,” I decided, stuffing the magical ID card into a wallet that I found. Only now it was blank again. 

Weird, but whatever. Magic was a thing here and it didn’t have to explain shit to a pleb like me.

“Right,” I breathed, digging through the closet to find a pair of dress shoes. I slipped them on and realized that my foot was pretty much the exact same size as Kitten’s dad too. That daddy kink of hers really hit her hard with me, huh? I even completed the image by grabbing a watch as well. I checked myself out in the mirror and barely recognized myself. Clothes really did make the man. “Now what?” I asked my reflection, feeling lost. 

I had goals, of course, but no idea how to accomplish them. I wanted to meet some of my favorite characters, shake hands with Superman, the whole nine yards but if I showed up at Titans Tower, I’d look like a creepy fan. No, I had to make them come to me, that way it wouldn’t come off as a weirdo fanboy. The only question was how?

Eh, I had plenty of time to think about it later. For now, it was time to take in the sights. Live the high life a little. Maybe I would take a swim in the infinity pool, I thought, stepping onto the balcony to look out at the ocean. It really was a great location, that view alone was worth a million bucks. Add that to the infinity pool, the rolling hills, the girl bleeding out in the dirt, and at dusk the view would be-

Wait. One of those things was a little different than the rest. 

My gaze zeroed in on the girl bleeding out in the dirt, not that far away. Her light purple and beige jacket soaked with red. I only realized that I was moving when I landed in a crouch, having jumped from the second story to break into a sprint. I made it to the girl in no time, and now that I could see her face, I saw evidence of an assault because she was bleeding from her head and lip. ‘

“Holy crap,” I cursed, not knowing what to do. My hands latched onto the wound on her chest, feeling hot blood seep through my fingers. My heart dropped to my stomach as I looked around for either help or the culprit. What the hell was going on? One moment I’m indulging in a rich man’s fantasy and now I’m stopping a girl from bleeding out? 

“Hey, hey, stay with me,” I said when the girl’s eyes tried to butterfly open, only to remain closed as her head rolled to the side. I...I needed an ambulance- I didn’t have a phone! Did this place have a landline? I...I had to do something! 

Then something happened. Out of nowhere, a small black flamed appeared, floating above my hands that covered the girl’s wound. I gaped at it, rearing back because what the actual fu- the fame fell onto the girl, moving through my hands like they weren’t even there. I might have thought I imagined the entire thing if it wasn’t for the fact that the black flame spread outwards, eating at her jacket and the fishnet undersuit that she wore.

My first thought was that the girl was on fire. She was, but she wasn’t. The fire burned at her jacket, spreading to her pants and even claiming her shoes. However, as I cupped the wound, I watched as the blood that stained my hands was wiped away. Burned away. The third thing that I noticed was that the fire was cool to the touch -- it wasn’t hurting me to keep my hands pressed against her wound, and judging by the lack of burn marks on her, it wasn’t hurting her either. 

Swallowing thickly, I slowly peeled my hands off her now bare chest, revealing that the wound was gone. Every trace of blood was gone too. There was no sign that she was ever hurt at all. My gaze drifted to her face to find that those wounds had healed as well. Now, instead of a pained expression, she simply looked to be sleeping. 

And it was then that my gaze landed on the metal plate that was resting on her neck, just over her sizable breasts capped with light pink nipples that seemed too small when compared to her bust. A metal plate that I recognized, no matter how many years it had been since I could stomach to watch the show that symbol appeared in. 

The mark of the village hidden in the leaves, Kohona. And that would make the naked sleeping woman in front of me...Hinata Hyuga. It was a bit difficult to tell since her eyes weren’t open, but her hair was black but it held a bluish hue to it.

I don't think I'm going to be able to sweep this under the rug of 'dragon bullshit.' At the very least, she wasn't dying. That was a great relief. Looking around again as if the rolling hills and infinity pool would answer my unspoken question of what was going on. Predictably, silence was my answer. Turning my attention back to Hinata, carefully ignoring her nudity, I slid my hands underneath her legs and shoulders to pick her up. Thankfully she didn't wake up and ninja poke my spleen to make it explode, so I'm guessing she was out like a light. 

I glanced down at where she once laid, not even finding a hint of blood even though it had been gushing out of her. I had more than a few questions about that black flame, but I could kill them over when I wasn't carrying a naked girl in the wrong universe. Hinata didn't stir as I took her into the house, up the stairs before tucking her in bed in one of the spare rooms. I checked her pulse, a steady beat underneath my fingers told me that she was fine. Apparently just resting. 

"Right," I muttered, taking a step back from the room. Then another. Then another and another until I was out of the room entirely before I gently closed the door. As soon as the door clicked closed, I fist pumped so hard I nearly spiked myself in the nuts. 

I wasn't just a dragon. I was a magic dragon. Living in a mansion. In DC comics. I don't even know what that magic was, but it was mine. I had magic. Ah, man, today is shaping up to be an even better day than yesterday. 

Grinning like a loon, I walked downstairs. It was a little too exposed for practice, but I wanted to remain nearby in case Hinata woke up. I cupped my hands in front of me, still smiling like an idiot and summoned upon the magical power that dwelled within. Only for nothing to happen. My smile fell a fraction, uncertainty worming its way in, but I didn't give up. There was no way that had been a fluke. I had magic and I was going to use it. 

How did I make it work a couple of minutes ago? I...wanted to make the bleeding stop. I wanted her to stop dying. I wanted. Maybe that was the trick to it? I closed my eyes and wanted the flame to appear, just like it had earlier. This time, now that I was expecting it, I felt...something inside of me and when I opened my eyes, I was unsurprised to see a black flame burning in my hands no bigger than the flame of a candle. 

“Wow,” I breathed, withdrawing a hand. Hesitantly, I poked the flame to feel that same cool feeling as before. If I had to guess...the fire only burned what I wanted it to burn. “Wow...my magical powers are so edgy.” I wasn’t even mad about it, but, seriously, a black flame that destroyed only what I wished it to? It was so edgy I just had to give it a pretentious name. I would have to give it some thought, maybe do some research, but this black flame was simply too edge to not have a pretentious name. 

I guess I know what I’m going to do today.