© AD 2000 by James Justin
Please note that this story contains sexual material that is not intended for readers under the age of 18 to enjoy.
"A single death is a tragedy. A million deaths is a statistic."
You sighed to yourself as the cold wind once again began to blow your thick white hair into your eyes. Time always seemed to stand still at these moments, letting the feeling of powerlessness, loneliness and despair seep into your bones second by second. A dull pain began to rise under your upper sternum, and each breath you took only made the dull pain worse. It began to rise to your throat, but you knew it wouldnít go beyond there. It wouldnít sting your eyes and make tears flow like it once did. You havenít been able to cry since you first witnessed this ritual.
Yet, you longed for that release. Every time you tried to cry in the past, you would manage to force out a single tear, but nothing more. That tear was a mockery, exposing your inability to cry. Weeping would be a release for you, but only having one tear hurt you more. You havenít tried to cry in weeks. It didnít seem to matter anymore. These days, you just lived with the pain.
You were not alone. Around you stood a few men, women and others. But tears were on the faces of no one. Looking to your right, you could see the emptiness written so clearly in the eyes of a young rhino-sized dragon. You knew that this dragon was her best friend and occasional lover. Painfully, you remembered the times you saw them together: smiling, laughing, and making love. You secretly hated him from afar, because even when you made love to her, you knew that her heart belonged to him and his to her.
You softly sighed and laid your hand on the back of his neck. His pale blue scales felt oddly soft against your shiny black elfin skin. His eyes rose to meet your own, and you could clearly see in them the incredible need to be loved and held close. You sighed; when the computer told you that adventurers had killed her, you thought that you would probably need to make love to her dragon friend to comfort him. Looking into the longing in his ocean green eyes, you wondered if even that would be enough.
You shuddered to yourself at the thought of having intercourse with him. You didnít mind the fact that he was a dragon too much, nor the fact that your were jealous of him. You just didnít like to do anything even remotely sexual with men of any race. You used to experiment with both men and women, and you knew you preferred making love to women. But, when a party of six male adventurers invaded your cavern home, killed your girlfriend and had their way with you, you couldnít even imagine having sex with a man without getting ill. That was four weeks ago. So, for almost a quarter of your lifetime, you avoided men in general.
You lowered your eyes to your shiny black boots, breaking contact with the dragonís eyes. It wasnít his fault that you were raped, but you still didnít have the strength to look into his eyes. If it was simply that you wouldnít enjoy making love to him, you wouldnít care, but this went far beyond that. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, to force yourself to relax. After all, you didnít know that he needed to make love to you, and making that assumption would only hurt the both of you at the worst possible time.
You opened your eyes and looked back to the eyes of the dragon. He wasnít looking at you, though; he was looking straight ahead. You followed his gaze to a small gnome who had a slight scowl on his chunky face. He looked like he would rather be anywhere else than here. He had thick red eyebrows that grew together just over his knobby nose. Deep wrinkles were carved in his face along the frown lines. The resulting expression made him look like he had a live gerbil up his butt.
That expression and the golden flowing tunic of a CyberWizard that he wore more to assert his own arrogance than his rank were known throughout the realms. It was none other than Sir Buttmunch the Dickless, or as he was less commonly known, Sir Buthmune the Director.
This balding gnome was hated by synthoids throughout the realms. He was a heartless administrator who sided with the adventurers whenever a dispute over anything took place. When the synthoids requested to be allowed to have funeral rights so that you could say goodbye to friends, he vehemently objected, stating that dead computer characters should be deleted as soon as possible to make room on the optical drives. When the system administrator disagreed, Sir Buttmunch insisted on overseeing the ritual himself, and writing the rules of how it was to proceed, so that no one could say or do anything in private to a synthoid who was about to be deleted. He was so cruel and emotionless that most people you knew believed that the bastard was more human than computer.
"You all know the rules," he said to no one in particular, staring above your heads so that he wouldnít be forced to make eye contact with any of you. "You have thirty seconds to say goodbye. You may not question her about who it was who killed her, how she was killed or why. All questions must be made in public, and all answers received publicly. No one is to get within ten feet of her. Anyone who breaks these rules will be magically barred from the ritual. Letís get this over with so we can get the drive cleared for more synthoids for the players to fight."
Then, she appeared. She was standing clothed in the simple white dress that she liked to wear. Her waist length golden hair was unbound and flowing in the slight breeze. You looked at her flowing hair longingly for the last time. It was her hair that attracted you to her in the first place. Since few human women had hair as long as hers, you were interested in knowing more about the human behind the unusual hair. That night, you became the first woman she had made love with.
Now, when you looked again into her sad ocean blue eyes, you ached to have her gently suck on your black nipples, and to roll your tongue over her moist clitoris once again. Yet, you wished you had taken the time to develop a relationship with her that went beyond something simply sexual. Sadly, most synthetic characters didnít live long enough to fall in love, so the most almost anyone asked out of a relationship was sex, because making love was the closest thing to actual love anyone could live long enough to get.
But, there were exceptions. Her eyes werenít looking at you; they were staring longingly into the eyes of the dragon, and you could see a love written so clearly into those small orbs that you couldnít even begin to grasp. Your heart felt an emptiness that you were unfamiliar with when you looked into those eyes. Somehow, these two computer characters had managed to achieve something that you have never understood, yet secretly longed for your entire short life.
"I donít mean to break up the lively conversation," Sir Buttmunch said, "but you have ten seconds left."
Suddenly the solemn silence was broken.
"Weíll miss you at the tavern lass!" a stocky dwarf called.
"Kick some human ass in the next life for me!" an ogre, the dwarfís drinking companion, followed.
"Goodbye my friend!" you managed to yell above the ogreís rumbling voice.
"Tell God to let the synthoids into heaven for me!"
"It was nice swinging swords with you!"
You noticed that the dragon wasnít saying anything. His eyes were brimming with moisture, and he wasnít breathing or blinking.
"This world will be worse off without your cute butt around!" someone called from behind you.
You looked at her. She hadnít said anything either, and the seconds were ticking away quickly. Her eyes were locked onto the eyes of the dragon, and she hadnít looked at anyone else.
You tried to get her attention by wrapping your arms around the head of the dragon and gently pulling him close to comfort him. At first she didnít respond, but then she blinked and lifted her gaze to meet yours.
"Take care of him my friend," she said to you. Then she lowered her gaze to meet the dragonís eyes once more. "I loveÖ"
She vanished in a brilliant flash. "Timeís up," Sir Buttmunch said. "See you all next time one of you bastards die." Then, he too vanished.
You could feel the dragon go limp. You cradled his head in your arms as the rest of his body fell onto the ground. One by one, the other people left the field, and soon you and the dragon were the only ones in sight. You held onto his head gently, stroking his blue scales for over an hour as he continued to stare at the spot where she stood for the last thirty seconds of her existence.
Then, he slowly lifted his eyes into yours. "Thank you for being here for me, my friend, but I think I need to be alone for a while."
You gently kissed his forehead. "I understand. If you need to talk orÖ" You fought past the lump in your throat. "ÖOr anything, please contact me."
"Ok," he said. "I will."
You released his head and he slowly stood up, taking time to stretch himself after being in one position for so long. Then, you took a couple steps back as he unfolded his wings and gracefully lifted himself into the sky.
Watching his form speed away in the distance towards his lair in the desert caverns, you sighed softly. He had achieved a miracle in this lonely realm by falling in love, but now his heart had to be the loneliest in the world. Your heart ached for him, but there simply was no way to adequately help.
The warm stone offered little comfort as you tried to sleep. In the past two days you simply could not find peace. Sleep was something that came rarely and never long enough. When you tracked and disemboweled some inexperienced adventurers, it didnít give you the rush of satisfaction that it usually did. Even having wild passionate sex with three of your preferred love slaves did nothing to ease your torn soul.
You opened your eyes to the scrying mirror set into the north wall. You had set up the mirror long ago to spy on the dragonís lair, when you learned who the humanís draconic lover was. It was through this mirror that you watched them make love time and time again. But now all it showed was the blue dragon curled up in a ball. He wasnít sleeping, for his eyes were open and staring at his caveís entrance almost as if he were expecting his love to walk in the cave at any moment.
He hadnít slept, eaten or even moved in the two days since he entered his lair after the funeral ritual. Neither had he tried to contact you magically. You could see that he had lost a great deal of weight in that time. His blue scales, once vibrant and shiny, were now dulled by a thin layer of dust and his ribs were beginning to show through the thick layer of muscle on his sides.
You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Even though you were insanely jealous of him, you always considered him a friend. He was destroying himself, and worrying about him was destroying you too.
You muttered the words: "Ad domus dracini movete." The image in the mirror slowly became more distinct. A cool dry breeze began to flow from the mirror, and you could hear the dragonís slow deep breathing. You stepped forward through the now open portal, your bare feet not making a sound on the cavern floor.
The dragon didnít notice you. You silently walked forward, moving behind the visibly thinner body of the beast. You moved around his room sized scaly body, and gently wrapped your arms around the small dragonís head and held him close to you. He blinked in surprise, and slowly rose his eyes to meet yours.
"I thought I asked to be alone," he said quietly.
You stared into his eyes. "You did, but I also asked you to tell me when you need someone to talk to."
He sighed and looked towards the red stone floor. "I guess I do, donít I? It just really tears me apart that I could talk to her about anything when she was alive, yet I couldnít tell her that I love her the last time I had the chance. I couldnít even get the words past my throat to say goodbye."
You gently laid your hand on his cheek, and began to softly stroke his scales. "My friend, I think you and her said more with your eyes than you ever had while she was alive. She knows that you love her, and that youíre scared to live this world without her."
He closed his eyes and nodded, the motion feeling rough against your skin through your thin chain mail armor. A dull feeling of nausea began to creep into your stomach. You ignored it and gently shifted his head so that you were holding his head close to your chest rather than your abdomen. The slight pressure against your small breasts felt a little uncomfortable, but you closed your eyes and held his cheek close to them regardless. He needed to have someone who cared close to him now, and using your personal discomfort as an excuse to separate yourself from him could only hurt both of you.
He giggled lightly. "You know, you humanoids have ridiculously fast heartbeats."
You took a deep breath and sighed. He backed away from you a couple feet and looked into your eyes. "Whatís wrong?"
Not answering, you silently slid the elfin chain mail over your head and dropped it on the floor behind you. Then, you silently slipped your silk tunic off and laid it on top of your armor. Your white hair draped over your shoulders, and hung just above your small yet firm breasts. The caveís dim light reflected off of your shiny obsidian colored skin, and you could feel your nipples harden in response to the sudden exposure to the cool desert night air. Looking into the dragonís surprised eyes, you dropped your breeches and stood naked before him.
"IÖI thought you were a lesbianÖ" the dragon said as he scanned your body with his eyes.
You sighed softly. "I am. But, you need someone to love. As a friend, I wish I could offer that. This is the best I can offer you. Iím sorry I canít do more."
A warm smile spread across his face. "Thank you, my friend."
He slowly uncurled himself, and you could see his pale blue penis begin to extend out of his genital slit. He mumbled a few arcane words and his body began to shrink. You used to be amazed watching this process through the mirror, but now that you were standing before him, you were simply awestruck. Before long, you were standing before a blue dragon barely 6 feet in height, with his hard penis sticking at least half a foot out of his genital slit.
You walked towards him, and you could feel the nausea begin to get worse as you neared his body. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine he was a female dragon, but it wasnít doing much good. He gently wrapped his tail around your waist, and drew you close to his body. You leaned against his soft scales and nuzzled your head against his neck. He held you close to his chest with one arm and gently massaged your left nipple with his other hand.
You knew from watching him before that he preferred to make love standing up, holding his partnerís weight by his tail tucked under her waist. Sure enough, he began to lift you up by his tail, and you could feel the head of his penis rub against your clitoris.
You sadly looked into his eyes. "One request, please?"
A hot tear ran down your cheek. "Be gentle."
You wrapped your legs around his slender waist, and you could feel the tip of his penis slide to the lips of your vagina. He took his hand from your breast and softly eased it onto your cheek, letting your tear roll over his fingers. Your eyes locked with his, and you can see written in those green orbs something you have never before seen from any of the other men you have had sex with. He honestly cared for you, and you could see that he was sad that making love to him would hurt you. When you looked into those eyes, you could feel your nausea fade almost to nothing.
As he slowly slid himself into you, he said: "I will. I swear it."
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