# 001 Rape Dragon Rapepral
# 001 Rape Dragon Rapepral
Rapepral Secma Narviskai.
The name was so long it was a pain to remember, so I just called myself "Rape," but many people called me "Resek."
Demon Dragon Lord Resek.
The evil demon dragon who ruled the continent.
The demon king who, consumed by hatred and fury toward humans, turned them into slaves.
The ruler of the underground dungeon "Dragonium."
I really did have a ton of epithets, but the people of the continent typically called me by the representative one—"Demon Dragon Lord Resek"—a truly cringeworthy title.
The reason was simple.
About a thousand years ago, I drove the world to the brink of annihilation like a demon king.
Things were quiet now, thanks to a thousand years of lying low, but back then people couldn't even speak the word "Resek" carelessly.
The strongest dragon.
That didn't simply mean that dragons as a species were the strongest; it meant I was the strongest even among dragons.
The number of dragon slayers I'd killed alone was a staggering two hundred.
If you added up all the other so-called heroes, sages, and the countless rest who'd charged at me, the total would easily surpass my age.
Of course, before I reached the seat of the strongest, from the moment I hatched out of my egg, my two thousand years of life had been a history of struggle for survival.
My age was roughly three thousand years old.
Once I'd safely passed my five-hundred-year hatchling phase and become an adult dragon, I'd shut myself up in my lair for hundreds of years, storing up power.
To survive.
"There were grim times even for a dragon."
My hatchling days were a period when "dragon hunters"—dragon slayers—were running rampant.
"Fucking dragon hunters."
Using ancient artifacts to hunt dragons, then using those dragons' skin and bones to make weapons for hunting dragons, to hunt even more dragons—for dragons, the worst vicious cycle repeated over and over.
One time, dragon hunters made their way into my lair.
I didn't know if they were trying to kill me as a hatchling, but I hid myself to avoid them, and to survive on my own I abandoned my lair, fled, and hid in a crevice at the base of a cliff.
—Hey, there's nothing here.
—There's no way a dragon would've run off... Couldn't this just be a spot where one gave birth and went somewhere else?
—Then did the hatchling die? What a waste. If you could enslave a hatchling, you could use it as bait to hunt dragons...
There was no one to protect me when I was a hatchling.
That's right.
I was an orphan dragon.
My parent dragons abandoned me.
Was it sometime when I was fighting a demon?
—Oh my, look at this little bastard and his hideously filthy attitude. Didn't your parents teach you how to behave when dealing with demons?
—I've got no parents, you weak little demon shit.
—What?! I'll tolerate being called a little shit, but I won't stand for "weak"! Let's fight, you dragon whelp!
When some demon bastard I fought a long time ago said, "Is your personality that fucked-up because you've got no parents?", I demonstrated in full the strength that came from growing up parentless and developing a personality just like a human's.
—S-strong...! They say the fouler a dragon's personality, the stronger it is...!
—And you contributed nothing to my personality getting this foul.
—Heh, heh-heh! I'll remember you! I, the demon king—
—Fuck off, you male shit.
—Kyaaaaaaah!!
I found out later that little bastard was apparently a demon king-level devil.
As a result of desperately thrashing for two thousand years among masses of humans, hatchling phase included, all to survive, I got strong.
I was, it turned out, stronger than I thought.
No matter how strong dragons were, to comfortably face a demon king-level enemy you'd normally need to be an ancient dragon, but I was able to take on a demon king remarkably early on.
"Did I have good bloodlines?"
But something was off about that.
It was definitely strange that both parent specimens were gold dragons and yet the hatchling was born with black scales, but with both parent specimens already killed by dragon hunters, I couldn't ask even if I wanted to.
Yeah.
That "color" was why my parents abandoned me.
The black that was born between gold and gold was cast away like that, and I had to survive on my own.
Why was I this strong?
It was true that a dragon's life was considerably longer than that of other species, but even so, from when I was a hatchling I already possessed combat power at the level of an adult dragon.
I figured out the secret.
I slept less than other dragons.
Other dragons, once they fell asleep, would sleep for three or four days, but I—like humans and their way of life—woke up early in the morning, was active during the day, and slept at night, repeating a diligent and regular routine.
—Hey, couldn't that make your lifestyle pretty much the same as a human's?
Since I spent the waking hours of the day practicing mana manipulation, I inevitably had a much larger volume of activity than other dragons.
Five hundred years of training in the sword.
Five hundred years of life as a mercenary.
Five hundred years of life in the Magic Tower.
Five hundred years of life as a villain.
Even as a hatchling, I first learned how to polymorph into human form and learned the ways of human life, and rather than maturing as a dragon, I learned to mature as a human first.
Of course, there were times I had to change my identity in less than a year, and times I lived under a single identity for sixty years, but the total span I spent building my skills amidst the masses of humans was a whole...
Two thousand years in total.
By doing so, I had become strong enough to even defeat a Dragon Lord.
So what did I do after I hit two thousand years old?
After that, I did one thing and one thing only.
"Rape."
There wasn't any particular reason.
"You find a female who turns you on and you fuck her. It's just common sense."
Once I gained power, I developed desires, and living among humans and rubbing shoulders with them, I learned about the three great human desires.
And I found out what I desired most of all.
The desire for sleep?
I had a bizarre lack of thoughts about sleep, and instead my head was completely full of thoughts about sleeping with women.
The desire for food?
I had a bizarre lack of thoughts about food, and instead my head was completely full of thoughts about getting my hands on women and fucking them.
Ah. I understood.
That among the three desires humans commonly talk about, everything in me was concentrated into one single desire.
—Sex.
Other dragons' desire for sleep became my lust.
Other dragons' desire for food became my lust.
I was a dragon with a bizarrely excessive amount of lust, and I didn't particularly care about anything else when it came to satisfying that lust of mine.
—S-stop! Violating me, the Dragon Lord... hic...!
—Heh-heh, if you lost, then you spread your legs nice and quiet! ...Wait, where's a dragon's hole, anyway?
—Th-this is so humiliating...!!
And just like that, I violated the female who had been the Dragon Lord.
I was wounded so badly that half my internal organs were blown away, but I spent over a decade violating the Dragon Lord while healing my wounds, and then I left her lair behind.
—Offer up the village maidens. Then I'll spare your lives, at least.
—A-are you planning to eat them...?!
—Nope. To fuck 'em.
—......Looking like that?
—Oh, wait. Hold on. Polymorph. There, happy?
—...It seems like you could probably just seduce them and they'd spread their legs, so why do you rape them?
—Why, well...
Because I'm horny, so I fuck.
Once I became human, I periodically received village maidens as offerings and violated them, and in exchange I declared the villages my territory and prevented other monsters from so much as setting foot there.
—Ooooh, O Black Dragon! Please, to us as well...!
—Ah, fuck. What a pain in the ass. Let's just see the offerings... Huh? They're non-virgins? Non-virgins?
—Th-that can't be...! Kyaaaaaaah!!
There were some minor incidents along the way where I roasted people who tried to deceive me using my Breath, but anyway, I was just getting through each day satisfying my lust.
Then one day, it crossed my mind.
—Hyaaahng!! Dragon's so incredibleeeee! I'm gonna diiiie! Aaannnk.
—Huh? Ah, shit. Died again? Gonna have to deal with the corpse.
That humans wore out relatively way too fast.
I could get about thirty years of fun out of a single human female, but once humans started getting well past forty, they instead made my lust diminish.
So I thought.
I needed to find a long-lived species.
I needed to find a slave who wouldn't make my tool wilt, who could take my lust until she died, and who additionally would be unable to so much as open her mouth as my slave.
—An elf was perfect.
After that.
When I came to my senses, I'd demolished nearly three-tenths of the Elf Forest and brought one high elf back to my lair and violated her.
It took a full two hundred years just to find her, and I appointed her as the high elf who would receive my lust.
Since then, all of eight hundred years had passed.
Eight hundred years.
Now, with my dragon age having reached three thousand years.
I, who for a span of eight hundred years had been satisfied having sex with a single elf, could now no longer be satisfied.
"Let's find a new slave."
I needed a wife.
A new woman who could take my tool.
It didn't matter if she was human, elf, or some other female.
As long as she was a "pretty" woman who could take my tool for a long time, I couldn't have cared less.
"...It's my first outing in eight hundred years."
Inside my lair, I gave a bow of my head at the elf's grave.
"You worked hard for eight hundred years."
They said elves died and were reborn as spirits, but if by chance she was reborn as a spirit and met me again, I would take her virginity all over again then.
"For an elf, living to a thousand is a ripe old age. Other high elves all return to the soil around the age of eight hundred, but you lived two hundred years longer than that."
She'd been two hundred years old when I abducted her, so she'd lived exactly a thousand years and then died.
While other elves became dark elves and died in less than a hundred years, or got caught up in the affairs of the human world and lost their lives, the high elf I abducted had been violated by me twenty-four hours a day whenever I felt horny, and thereby lived two hundred extra years before dying.
"A ripe old age."
For eight hundred years, pinned under my cock, wailing every single day, panting and crying out that it felt so good she was going to die and begging for my cock—and then she actually felt too good and died.
"I did absolutely nothing wrong."
Nothing wrong.
If there was any wrong, it was her own fault for getting on top of me and enjoying herself without thinking about her age, and then her breath just up and stopped.
"Now that the high elf was dead, should I look for another high elf?"
The world was wide and full of females.
Even though I had lived cut off from the world for eight hundred years, just the two of us together with a high elf, the laws of the world didn't change in an instant.
Kingdoms might change a bit, and the geography of the continent might shift.
But dragons were the mightiest life forms, and I was invincible.
That was a truth that had not changed even now, eight hundred years later.
The glorious race that would become my next female...
"Ugh, what a pain."
Thinking about it could come later.
I opened the coffin of the dead high elf.
The face of the still-pale corpse was so serene it was, in many ways, beyond description.
Like a doll, she had died.
Was she smiling?
Or was she crying?
"......."
If I took this high elf's two hands and pulled them up beside her face to make a V-shape, would that be an insult to the dead, or would it be a crucial clue for verifying her cause of death?
"...Sigh. Farewell."
I brushed my hand across the high elf's face.
She probably hadn't stored up enough nature's energy to reincarnate as a spirit, so it would likely be impossible, but if she did reincarnate as a spirit, may we meet again.
"...Ah, I wanna have sex."
I hadn't been able to have sex for over a week while I was holding the funeral rites for the dead high elf.
Grabbing my cock with my own hand only made me feel miserable, and if I grabbed the dead high elf's hand and used it to shake my cock, it was so cold it only cooled down the heat gathered in my cock.
That settled it—for sex, you had to ram your cock directly into a cunt.
"So then, some female living somewhere, whoever she was, I would make her my woman..."
Up to age two thousand, I lived among humans, erasing my presence and enduring.
From age two thousand, I freely displayed the power I'd stockpiled and started to be called a demon dragon.
At age 2200, I took the high elf I'd captured as my wife and spent eight hundred years with her.
Now, it was time to find a new wife.
"I wanted to Rape a female that made me horny as hell."
At that moment, my Black Dragon cock was starving.