Dragons Have Filthy Tastes
Dragons.
The strongest living beings on earth. The apex of all life. The creatures closest to the gods themselves.
They are called by countless names of awe and reverence, and they live up to every one of them. From the moment of their birth they awaken to magic no human could ever hope to touch; their scales cannot be pierced by any weapon, and their claws are razor-sharp. Their lifespans casually stretch beyond ten thousand years, and the depth of the knowledge they accumulate over that time is beyond all measure.
And yet, for that very reason, every dragon lives under the curse of boredom.
When you stand at the summit of all living things, having mastered every principle of the world, and then spend more than ten thousand years there—eventually, nothing brings you joy anymore.
So they sink into deep slumber for centuries at a time, hoping to forget the endless tedium, or set out on distant journeys in search of amusement. Even so, a few dragons who still cannot overcome their boredom simply end their own lives. Of course, those who choose that path are the ones who have lived for tens of thousands of years—the ones called ancient dragons—and even among them, such cases are vanishingly rare.
Regardless.
Dragons, quite literally, spend their lives at war with boredom. That is why a dragon’s mind is structured in ways no human can understand. They become obsessively fixated on pleasure and stimulation. In other words, their fanatical pursuit of dopamine leaves their tastes… twisted.
Not every dragon has warped preferences, perhaps—but every dragon I have ever met certainly did.
From On the Tastes of Dragons, by the elven scholar Meliel
A woman with red hair walked a forest path, her steps carrying her somewhere with quiet purpose. She wore crimson armor that matched her hair almost perfectly—armor so finely wrought and so full of dignity that even a fleeting glance from horseback would have told anyone it was no ordinary piece of gear. It was the sort of armor that belonged on a general commanding a battlefield.
The woman wearing it, however, looked nothing like a general.
Her skin was milky-white and smooth. Her limbs were long and well-proportioned, so that even though she was not particularly tall, she never seemed small. The full swell of her chest and the curve of her hips beneath a narrow waist belonged more to a dancer than a commander. Her round eyes, red like her hair, were bright with life, and the faint flush on her cheeks made her look almost endearingly cute. In short, she was a beauty who could stop any man on the road dead in his tracks.
“Hmm-hmm~ Hmmmm~”
She hummed a little tune as she went, clearly in excellent spirits. Her steps finally stopped before a small cave on a lonely hillside. Animal bones and hides lay scattered around the entrance, mixed here and there with what looked unmistakably like human remains. Anyone could see it was an ominous, dangerous place.
And yet the woman only smiled, as if she found it amusing, and lingered near the mouth of the cave.
“Hmm. Still reeks as badly as ever.”
A foul, nauseating stench drifted out from within—the metallic tang of blood tangled with filth, and beneath it all, thickest of everything, the distinctive musky reek of semen. The woman flared her nostrils and drew the smell in deep, as if she were almost glad to meet it again.
“Yes. Smelling this, I can finally believe I’ve arrived.”
Without the slightest hesitation, she began to undress. Piece by piece she stripped off the splendid crimson armor, then her boots, then the long gloves that reached to her elbows, folding each item carefully and setting them in a neat pile at the cave mouth. Beneath the armor, elaborate red lingerie was revealed. Her waist looked as if a single hand could span it, but she was no mere slip of a girl. Firm muscle and soft flesh blended into a body of pure, springy vitality.
“Ahem!”
She cleared her throat, announcing herself to whatever waited inside. Something rustled in answer.
“Gob. Gob.”
“Gob. Someone’s here. Gob.”
The creatures that crawled out from the depths of the cave were a pack of goblins. At best they stood no taller than a human child, with mottled green skin, yellowed fangs, and white eyes that rolled wetly this way and that. Goblins were low-rank monsters—so low that an ordinary adult man with a weapon could handle one or two without much trouble. In a swarm they could bring down mid-rank monsters, true enough, but this woman could have wiped out any number of them without breaking a sweat.
What she did next, however, was something no ordinary person would ever understand.
She walked right up to the goblins that had crawled from the cave, dropped to her knees of her own free will, and pressed her forehead to the filthy ground.
“Hehe. Your convenient little flesh toilet has come to visit her masters again after so long.”
She did not stop at bowing her head. She swayed her hips like a dog wagging its tail, laying on the coquetry thick.
“Gob! Gob! Toilet! Flesh toilet! Why’d you only come now, gob?!”
Even goblins, with their low intelligence and poorer memory, recognized her at once and started shouting, as if this were far from their first meeting. As they screeched and raged about how late she was, the woman only made her voice more nasal and pressed her lips to their filthy soles.
“I’m sooorry. This worthless flesh toilet got so busy outside that she ended up late…”
“Enough, gob! Get inside right now! Flesh toilet! We’re using you immediately, gob!”
A goblin seized a fistful of her red hair and dragged her roughly into the cave. She crawled after him on all fours like a bitch in heat, offering no resistance to his rough handling. Inside, the stench was even worse than outside, and filthy refuse lay heaped everywhere. The damp air made her skin feel sticky and unpleasant.
As she was hauled deeper in, other women’s voices drifted from further back.
“S-stop! Please stop, aah—hhnnngh!!!”
“No! I don’t want to be raped by goblins! Somebody help me!!!”
“Haaah! Th-there—right there feels so gooood!!”
Screams tangled with despair and pleasure. They were village girls from nearby, dragged here by the goblins. Goblins existed only as males, and so they kidnapped females of other races, violated them, and bred. Human women—weak, without fangs or claws—made ideal breeding sacs for them.
Even as she was dragged along, the red-haired woman rolled her eyes and quietly assessed the captives.
None of them look pregnant yet. No one seems badly hurt, either. I can enjoy myself a little, then.
Anticipation rose in her; she flicked her tongue out and licked her lips.
“Gob! The flesh toilet’s here!”
“!!! She’s finally come!”
“Flesh toilet! Why the hell are you so late?!””
The goblins roared with delight at the sight of the red-haired woman—no, their flesh toilet. They flung aside the women they had been violating and scrambled over one another to reach her.
“Heehee. Sorry. I’m really late, aren’t I? Please—wreck my pussy to pieces today♡♡”
She swayed her full hips, beckoning them on.
“You’re nothing like those other human bitches!”
“You’re insanely pretty! I wanna shove it in right now!”
The girls they had been using moments before had not been bad, but they could not compare to this red-haired beauty. Even a goblin’s dull brain could tell that much at a glance. The goblins approached with blood-flushed cocks standing stiff, their shafts lining up perfectly with the face of the woman still crawling on the ground. A choking stench rolled off them. Traces of the women they had just finished with still clung to the cocks thrust before her eyes—white fluids and semen smeared on in a greasy sheen.
Any ordinary woman would have gagged and turned away. This one parted her lips without a second’s hesitation and took the foremost goblin’s cock into her mouth. The moment the semen hit the back of her throat, a hot flush raced through her whole body and her flesh began to burn. Goblins had evolved to secrete an aphrodisiac in their seed so they could subdue females despite their weak bodies—and that drug was now flooding her system. Knowing full well it was laced, she still sucked greedily.
Slurp. Schlick. Slurp.
Obscene spit ran from the corners of her mouth as she worked them with loud, wet enthusiasm. Of her own accord she spread her legs wide into an M and offered her flushed pussy to the goblins. Juices were already running down it in thick trails.
“Flesh toilet! Your pussy’s dripping everywhere!”
“Hurry up and fuck her!”
The aroused goblins howled, cocks twitching. Once her diligent service had cleaned them all, she panted and whispered,
“I’ve cleaned all of my masters’ cocks for you.”
“Good girl! Now we’ll really fuck you!”
Rough hands were just forcing her thighs apart when—
“Seraphina!!!! Are you in there?!”
“Hah?!”
A familiar woman’s voice rang through the cave. The red-haired woman—Seraphina—jerked as if struck by lightning and scrambled to her feet, hastily wiping goblin semen from her lips with the back of her hand.
“Who’s that?!”
“We were just about to properly rail her! Who the hell is it?!”
Unlike the flustered Seraphina, the goblins—still painfully aroused—shrieked in irritation. Having their perfect moment interrupted, their reaction was only natural.
“Wait! That voice is a pussy too! Fresh, tasty female hunt!”
One of them caught that the intruder was a woman and grinned nastily. Convinced a new hole had just rolled in on its own, they snatched up their weapons. Drooling, they charged toward the cave mouth—
Flash.
In an instant a razor-sharp gleam split the dark cave, and the charging goblins were carved cleanly in two. Blood fountained; filthy guts spilled across the floor in a wet cascade.
“Ah… what a waste. Things were just getting fun.”
Seraphina clicked her tongue in regret, staring down at a severed goblin cock still rolling across the ground.
“Seraphina! I told you over and over that we had something important today!”
The one who stepped out, treading through scattered goblin corpses and pooling blood, was a black-haired woman. She was every bit as dazzlingly beautiful and alluring as Seraphina herself. She wore black armor of a similar cut, and a sharp rapier rested in her hand. Despite the slaughter, not a single drop of blood clung to the blade—proof that her swordsmanship had reached a true peak.
“Ah… Sylvia. Was the founding ceremony today?”
“Yes! Today is the day we take office as commanders of the Bahamut Knights! I still cannot understand why you keep offering yourself up to trash like these goblins and moaning for them!”
“Okay, okay, cut me some slack. I’ll get ready and we’ll go. Just calm down a little.”
“We don’t have time to dawdle—hurry! …Huh?”
Sylvia had been about to drag Seraphina outside when her gaze snagged on the far corner of the cave—on the other women, limbs bound, still half-ravaged by the goblins.
“There are people here?!”
“Weren’t you the one saying the ceremony was urgent?!”
“No matter how important the ceremony is, I can’t just walk away from people who need help right in front of me!”
In the end, Seraphina and Sylvia rescued the women who had been under goblin assault, then hurried on once more.
“Seraphina! At this rate we’ll be late! Change back into your true form, now!”
“Hah? You’re going to use me as a glorified taxi?”
“This delay is your fault! Take responsibility!”
“Tch.”
Seraphina clicked her tongue lightly and stepped forward. Light blazed around her body as it began to swell into a strange and terrible shape. A massive form ten meters long. Wings that seemed ready to blot out the sky. Crimson scales that shone like jewels. Heavy forelegs, razor claws and fangs. And above all, vertically slit pupils that radiated pure intimidation.
The strongest living being on earth. A Red Dragon.
That was Seraphina’s true identity.
And her partner, Sylvia—the Empire’s first female Sword Master, newly appointed commander of the Bahamut Knights, and the Dragon Rider bound to Seraphina by a soul contract.
“Sylvia. Get on.”
“Right! Full speed—we can’t be late!”
The crimson ancient dragon and her knight kicked off the earth and surged into the open sky. In moments the two of them shattered the sound barrier, carving a red trail across the heavens.