Length: 1000 words
Vore type: Oral vore, F/M, unwilling prey, hammerspace vore
Fandom: None (Kahudra)
Other info: dragon/human, implied digestion
Summary: If you jump in the hole, the dragon will eat you. It doesn't matter that she's small.
"Hey, kitty-cat. I know your kind doesn't like getting wet, but d'ya know if this place is any good for surfing?"
Dzamie looked up from his crossword puzzle. He wasn't sure what about a cheetah sitting next to a pit in the sand, quietly working on puzzles, made him a magnet for stuff like this - he was even in a swimsuit, himself! But he might as well get some entertainment from it, or at least give the surfer a chance to not be a jerk.
"This stretch? Good for swimming and floating, but for surfing, it's better past that pier over there," he said, pointing his pencil at the fishing pier a moderate walk away. "Oh, and watch out for the hole."
"Good kitty," the man condescended - Dzamie's ears flicked in annoyance - then looked over at the hole, only a couple feet deep and twice as wide. "And hey, just cuz I'm a whiz on water doesn't mean I can't handle the sand."
"It's less the hole itself, and more the dragon laying in it." He sat forward in his chair to look over the edge of the pit, and waved at Sylvia, ten pounds of golden dragoness curled up half-asleep at the bottom. She cracked open an eye and waved back.
Rather than simply leaving, the surfer crossed his arms with a smile. "Oh, sure, he looks real tough. If I twist my ankle falling in there, he could give me a pretty serious light scrape!"
"Dragoness, actually. And she eats people who go in the hole," Dzamie informed him, "so don't fall in unless you want to get eaten."
The man looked at him, then at Sylvia. "You're joking, right? She's tiny. The zoo has bigger geckos."
Dzamie shrugged and refocused on his crossword. "Every single person who's gone in there has gotten eaten."
"Yeah? And how many is that?"
"Haven't been keeping count. You could ask her."
The surfer scoffed. "Please, anything more than zero is clearly just an empty brag."
"Eight today," Sylvia chipped in. Despite her small voice, both guys heard her clearly.
"Eight it is," agreed Dzamie, "so yeah, watch your step or it'll be nine."
"ME watch my step?" the man laughed, "just look at her. She's the one who'll have to look out. In fact… look out!"
Dzamie set his puzzle on his lap again and watched, with idle amusement, the surfer taking a few steps back. With a confident smirk, the man ran and leapt up, over the edge of the hole. It was clear that he had no intention of clearing it, but rather aimed his landing directly at the little dragon laying at the bottom. Sylvia tracked him, too, keeping her head lined up with his sandy feet; moments before impact, she opened her tiny jaws.
The hapless braggart landed nearly a foot deeper than he intended: rather than landing on Sylvia's muzzle, he landed in it, his calves somehow fitting into her hungry mouth and sliding in until hitting some resistance. Unbalanced, he fell back; magic leapt to Dzamie's paws, and a faint, green bubble insulated his shouted curse from any onlookers. Still, the cheetah couldn't help but wince, as sand was never as soft to land on as it appeared. Of course, that would soon be the least of his troubles.
With a gulp loud enough that even Dzamie heard it outside the sandy hole, Sylvia dragged her catch in, knees vanishing without a trace into her slender, golden neck. The surfer-turned food soon recovered from his fall, but by the time he'd made sense of where he was, or rather, where the rest of his legs were, she was halfway up his thighs, soaking his swimwear with drool rather than water. He reached down to pry her jaws open and pull himself out, but that only got them stuck by his sides - another swallow, and his head dipped under the rim of the hole, and no amount of thrashing his torso back and forth earned him a single inch of freedom back.
Dzamie got up, set his puzzle down, stretched, and laid on his belly next to the hole, for a better view. Only the surfer's head and bare shoulders were visible outside of Sylvia's hungry little jaws, and from the look on his face, his earlier machismo had given way to mortal terror. Sylvia's throat pulled at him, and he tipped his head back as her snout crept up his neck. Dzamie smiled back at him. "Y'know," he said, "I've never tried surfing in her stomach. Maybe it's a good thing you didn't simply ignore the obvious hole in the ground."
Last words were wasted on wishing ill of the furry onlooker, and then Sylvia's jaws clacked together. A final swallow, then the dragoness opened back up to show off her maw, empty of prey; aside from the copious drool, there was little if any sign of the whole person who fell eight feet and counting into a two-foot-deep hole. After giving him the view, Sylvia grinned at her friend. "So, wanna help me hit double digits?"
Dzamie looked at the shadow of his chair. "It is getting sorta late…" He leapt to his feet and jerked his head towards the water. "Tell you what, I'm gonna go cool off a bit, and then you'll be my ride back to the house, okay?" With a snap of his fingers, the chair and crossword vanished.
"Alright! But if you don't hurry, who knows if some other poor fool will steal lucky number ten from you?" Dragon and cheetah exchanged smiles, and then he ran off to the water's edge while she reconstructed a sandy nest. Relaxation, entertainment, free meals… this was definitely an outing worth repeating.
oh to be friends with a hammerspace dragon, gently petting their tiny, scaly body and listening to them purr, distracting me momentarily from the gentle tug and squeeze of their throat around my entire lower body... and a bit more
wondering how many they ate before stopping by me, and if I'll ever find out
Summary: C'mon, how deep could you need to search under a hammerspace dragon's tail to find her toy? All the way, of course.
Length: 1900 words
Rating: Explicit
CW: vore, unbirth, unwilling prey, arguably rape
"Hey. Tall and beefy. Mind helping me out?" a feminine voice asked.
Daniel looked around; he had thought he was the only person in the room, and his quick glance only made him more certain. Maybe he was losing it-
"Yes, you. Up on this cabinet," the mysterious voice continued. He followed her instructions; atop a cabinet by the door in the back of the room stood a yellow- no, golden dragoness, who couldn't be more than a foot and a half from nose to tail. She was panting, and frequently fanned her wings. Odd, thought Daniel, since the room was, well, room-temperature.
Nonetheless, he approached her. "You're Salic, right? Wait, Sylvia?" he asked. She nodded, and he furrowed his brow. "I thought you were yellow? I've only seen you around a little, though."
Sylvia drummed her forepaws on the cabinet. "Yeah, I'm in heat. Body's trying to attract a mate, hence the shiny. Look, I'm trying to get through it with a toy, but something happened. Can you help?"
A voice in the back of Daniel's head warmed him not to approach a dragon - especially one in heat - and that she might be dangerous, but he tuned it out - she was small enough to curl up in his hands, after all. "I, uh, don't think I'm the right size for a mate. No offense."
A sigh and a growl escaped the dragon's muzzle, though she quickly put her forepaws over her snout and shook her head. "Sorry, just very quickly pent up. No, I'm not looking for a mate. Look, just... the toy I was using is, let's just say, pretty deep, and I wan- I NEED someone to try and find it."
Daniel looked at her, then down at his hands, then back at her, and finally to the slowly-growing clear puddle under her tail. He glanced back at the still-empty room, then spoke up. "Only if there's a sink to wash up in afterwards. I'll help, but I'm not walking around the rest of the day with... dragon slime on my fingers."
"No need to worry about that. Now c'mon, I'm holed up in here. Oh, and leave your clothes just outside the door." Sylvia rose to her feet, shivered, and dove through the cracked-open door. Her head poked back out, right by the handle, to add, "there's a couple days of dragon-in-heat smell in here. Better for them you strip calmly than tear them off - and yes, I have seen that happen."
Once she'd vanished again, Daniel rolled his eyes. Still, just to be careful, he took a small breath by the cracked door. A strong, but very pleasant heat spread through his body. His shirt felt warm and sticky against his skin, and his pants trapped his quickly-erect shaft with a small twinge of discomfort. So she wasn't exaggerating. Daniel again scanned the room; still empty. He found a spot near the door, hidden from view, to stash his clothes, and pulled off his shirt and pants.
Looking down at his erection, still going strong, he crossed his arms and admonished it, "that's a dragon in there; you're getting all worked up for nothing." A jolt of embarrassment shot through him, realizing he was talking to his own penis, so he quickly stepped through the door, closing it behind him.
The atmosphere hit him like a sack of breasts. As the heavy air filled his lungs, Daniel fell back against the door, vision swimming. Through his hazy senses, Sylvia's voice came through muffled and distant; willing himself to not give in and get off, Daniel instead focused on her voice and tried to orient himself again.
"-asn't enough of a warning, huh? I'll have to keep that in- oh, your eyes are focusing, good! Come over here." She had landed on a table in the middle of the room, and laid on her back, hind legs splayed. As though magnetized, Daniel complied, drawn to her slender, supine form. He leaned in, his face drawing nearer, nearer to her alluri-
A tiny, scaly hindpaw kicked him in the face. And then again. Daniel recoiled, and the pain restored some clarity. He rubbed his cheek, but smiled at Sylvia. "Thanks."
"No problem. I think you'll be better clear-headed. Now then..." she trailed off, and gave a meaningful nod towards her crotch. Once again, Daniel looked from her to his hand, and hesitated. He slowly reached towards her, unsure of if he'd hurt her.
"Don't tease a dragoness in heat," Sylvia snarled, "if you're gonna help, get those fingers in me, and if you're not, let me know so I can stop playing around with you!"
"S-sorry." This time, he placed two fingers right between her legs and carefully spread her slit open. As he penetrated her with one finger, he flicked his gaze up to the dragon's head - not like his eyes would be all that useful when he's feeling around. She was surprisingly hot inside, for such a small body, though her already tight grip grew tighter when he pressed deeper. "Are you sure this is safe?"
"Nnnff, yes, you'll be fine," Sylvia forced out, "go deeper."
Daniel shook his head. "I'm more worried about you; you're already tight enough I'm not sure I can go much further, let alone rescue your toy." He tugged his finger back, in spite of her snatch clamping down around it. He rubbed her fluids between his fingers and fought the lust-driven urge to lick them or stroke himself.
The little dragon shot him a little impatient look, then rolled onto her front, tail high in the air. "You're worried over nothing, but here, go in like this, like you're mounting me." Her tail waved back and forth, directing his attention to her clearly needy slit.
Daniel took a deep breath, shook himself free of the warm haze, and slipped his index finger back in. True to her word, Sylvia's body didn't squeeze as hard around it. Soon, the slick heat between her legs was wrapped around his entire finger; he gave it an exploratory wiggle, feeling around for her lost toy, and was "rewarded" with Sylvia stifling a moan.
"Go deeper," she breathed.
"I, uh, can't get my finger any deeper," Daniel admitted. He gently tugged back again, but her body kept a better hold on the entire finger this time.
"So give me your hand! I'm less fragile than you think."
Daniel compared the size of his fist to the width of Sylvia's body. It didn't look good for her.
"Ugh! Please? I need this. Humans don't go into heat, you have no idea."
"...alright. Tell me if I hurt you, though." Daniel said; Sylvia replied with an impatient huff.
Carefully, he slipped in one finger after the other. The dragon's snatch accepted each one with ease, and, with a ripple of her inner walls, even dragged his palm in, leaving him wrist-deep in her hot depths. Still, on the table, the little dragon was awash in bliss, her slim tongue lolling out of her mouth. "Deeper. More! Give me more..." she moaned.
Daniel shuddered, but when he tried to pull his hand back, she clenched hard around it, squirting even more of her slick, slimy juices down his wrist. "That's... look, Sylvia, I don't think I can help you find your toy. So if I could just-" He braced his free hand against her hindquarters, readied himself, and with a loud, wet SQUELCH...
...got his other hand stuck next to the first. The dragon let out a blissful sigh. "No, no, I found my toy. And I suspect this one will last me through my heat..."
Another wave of muscle rolled over his hands and dragged his elbows in. Daniel strained to see past her tail - now blocking most of his vision not occupied by what was under it. Nonetheless, he managed to catch a glimpse of the dragoness's body, appearing completely unchanged from when he merely had a finger in her. He tried to jerk his arms back and away, but managed only to slip on a trail of Sylvia's arousal, falling to his knees before her. Under her belly, Daniel saw, with growing fear, an utter lack of any sign that she had both of his forearms inside her. "How are you- what's- where did my arms go?" he muttered, baffled.
Her tail dropped to press behind his head, bringing his face closer and closer to that powerful heat. "Same place the rest of you is going, my toy..." With an audible shudder, the dragoness thrust her hips back, and everything above Daniel's shoulders was wrapped in a warm, slimy tunnel of flesh. "Mmm, deeper."
The trapped man did his best to thrash around, even with his hands bound in front of him and unable to get any footing. Unfortunately, Sylvia seemed to know exactly what to expect, and that tight heat continued to roll down over his chest and middle. As his hips began to fall prey to her hungry pussy, her hindpaws pushed Daniel's erect shaft against his belly; her claws against the sensitive member proved effective at rendering him unwilling to struggle against her. And to his annoyance, his body once again betrayed him; against his conscious desires, her soft inner walls spurred his hips to thrust against them. Her wet folds pulled in his thighs, his knees, and still all his struggles only built his arousal further.
Around him, though muffled by her body and the constant, lurid squishing noises of her well-lubricated insides, Sylvia's satisfied moan was as inescapable as her pussy. With the wetness and pressure reaching Daniel's toes, the dragon's pleasure was an audible mark of her utter success in fitting him impossibly inside her little, scaly body. Still, all the man could do was struggle against her, or at least try to convince himself that rubbing frantically against her soft, slick insides was struggling.
Suddenly, his surroundings got much, much tighter, pressing in on him from all sides. Hot, sticky juices flooded his nose and mouth while the walls shuddered against him. He tried to pry open some room to breathe, but his arms were similarly locked tight together. It was over in seconds, but it felt to Daniel like forever, before Sylvia's body relented; even then, it was all he could do to gulp down what heavy air he could find, barely able to muster a wiggle in protest.
"Oohhhh, yes, you'll do just fine…" Sylvia breathed, her wavering voice coming from all around him, "just keep doing that, and- well, I'll have to find some way to pay you back."
"You could-" Daniel coughed, spitting out more of the slimy fluid around him. "You could let me out? Pay me back like that?"
"Ha! Ah, no," she refused, "at least, not 'til I'm good and done with you. Sorry, toy, but you're all mine for the next few days. Now then…"
Daniel heard her inhale sharply, and this surroundings started to twitch and clench in around him again. His tired limbs fought to keep him from drowning, lost deep inside the tiny dragon, as his fate for the rest of the week settled into him, and as he was forced to settle into her.
I was talking on @hartenas-den‘s Discord server, and we made up a library dragon. He is very small, but fortunately as a hammerspace dragon you can wander his eaten library for ages. Just make sure to return your books on time, lest he think you’re stealing them.
Space prompt, eh? A good a time as ever for some hammer-space dragon! Featuring Sylvia, the loveliest little gold dragoness in the Dragonslayer Guild Hall.
Length: 2200 words
Rating: M (noncon vore. Not sexual, but it’s still noncon and vore)
Summary: Victoria, a dragonslayer in training, learns an unforgettable lesson about how hammerspace dragons work, and perhaps about assuming mundane explanations around fantastical creatures.
Minors DNI with this particular story. I am hella uncomfortable with the idea of y’all openly interacting with vore.
-----
“Hey, Sylvia, any chance I could borrow a gold coin? Need to test the magical affinity of this thing to some elements, and gold’ll do just fine,” the cheetah asked the little golden dragon perched on his shoulder. “Y’know, before I permanently affix the actual part.”
“Yeah, gimme a second. Hand, please.”
Behind them, Victoria watched the pair work - or, well, she watched Dzamie work, while Sylvia mostly just watched him from closer. She had initially stopped by to ask the katul about one of his swordwork lessons, but he seemed busy, so she was fine waiting... for ten minutes longer, maybe. A bit more if she thought she’d get to cuddle the adorable little dragoness. Yes, time and time again, Dzamie himself had repeated that every dragon can kill an incautious slayer, and it was almost always in reference to Sylvia, but the woman found it hard to take it seriously. Not that she’d ever say it aloud. Even if it turned out not to be true, Sylvia seemed to take pride in her rumored “danger,” and Victoria liked the little lady too much to rain on her parade.
A loud hiss filled the air, then Dzamie waved a gold coin in his hand back and forth, steam rising up from his paw and the coin. “What’s he doing that does that?” the human asked herself, aloud.
Dzamie, however, was the one to respond, without looking up. “Oh, fire spells come easy to me, so I use ‘em to quickly dry off stuff Sylvia gives me. Gives the workshop a certain smell, but it’s not really enough drool to bother humans.” His voice dropped to a mutter as he looked over his work, then nodded and spoke up again. “Yeah, that’ll work. But, yeah, if you ever catch me after a swim, I do the same thing to myself - just, with a silencing spell when there’s people around.”
Having been unofficially invited into the conversation, Victoria walked closer. The katul was working on what looked an awful lot like a gun from a video game. “Huh, forgot you did cosplay,” she remarked, “and, wait, why would what she gave you be wet?”
Two pairs of eyes swung to look at her, one tiny and yellow, one more her size and, well, also yellow, but with a purple aura around them that soon cleared. “I trust him to return items from my hoard,” Sylvia said, “and, naturally, anything I don’t bag up for protection gets wet.”
Victoria looked around, trying to find where the little dragoness might have put a hoard that she could somehow reach from Dzamie’s shoulder, to no avail. Luckily for her, Sylvia easily read the human’s face, smiled, swished her tail, and said, “Hmm, tell you what. You’re nice enough to me, good enough pets and all that.”
“Oh, is she the other one who’s been giving you strawberries?” Dzamie asked. He was looking back at the prop again, where a finger wreathed in green fire poked at a floating spell circle of the same color.
Sylvia huffed. “Anyway! Would you like to see my hoard, Victoria?” The golden dragoness sat up as tall as she could to deliver her next line, “just be aware that if you try to steal from me, your life is forfeit.”
Any tiny, intimidating effect she might have had was immediately discarded as her furry, feline perch moved his arm and sent her tumbling onto the table. In spite of herself, Victoria laughed. “Sorry, sorry!” she said, “it’s just, the timing. I would love to see your hoard, Sylvia. Assuming it’s not just that coin. Uh, no offense, you’re just, well, you-sized.”
Dzamie interrupted again, muttering “alright, let’s see if this doesn’t explode this time” as he picked up his project in one hand. “And Victoria, pop quiz! Zero percent of your grade. What species of dragon is this adorable golden derg?”
“Don’t call me a derg.”
“Adorable golden dragon,” the cheetah amended. The device in his hand whirred and glowed with his green magic, and successfully failed to explode, at which he gave a satisfied “heh.”
Victoria leaned against one of the other tables, trying to recall. “She’s a... hammer-something. Not hammerhead, hammer... hammerspace!” she said with a confident smile.
Dzamie nodded. “Fantacular. Just making sure you might know what you’re in for.” He turned to Sylvia. “I’m gonna go test this out proper. Back in a few.”
The dragoness on the table walked over to the edge and sat down, facing Victoria. “Okay, then, just set your sword... somewhere and give me your hands.” As she did so, unsheathing the weapon and laying it flat, Sylvia continued, “I never figured out whether it’s easier for you if I go slow or fast, but I like slow, so I’m gonna go slow.”
“Oh, and you’ll want to ditch the rest of your armor,” Dzamie added, gesturing to her with the toy gun, “trust me on this, it’s uncomfortable and then you just have to clean it unnecessarily.”
Victoria glared at him. “Sure, Teach, let me just strip down right in front of a male katul all alone in this room.”
Dzamie passed his prop to his other hand, then held up his fingers as he counted off, “okay, one, Sylvia’s here with us; two, just because I fit the stereotype doesn’t mean you should use it; and three-” he lifted his project, “- the only reason I’m coming back here in the next half hour is if this thing explodes on teleport. ...which you better not,” he muttered at the prop. Then, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.
For a solid minute, Victoria stared at the spot he’d vanished, almost daring him to teleport back in. Sylvia coughed to get her attention. “He’s not wrong, though. I don’t know about armor maintenance, but usually people prefer to be in comfortable clothes.” The little dragoness turned her head away and flicked her tail back and forth. “If, uh, if they wear any, but people like that are few and far between. Look, it is pretty cramped on the way to my hoard, but I’d be an awful friend if I insisted you get rid of things that aren’t weapons.”
“Things that aren’t weapons?”
The golden dragon gave her a flat look. “Can you really blame me, a dragon, for not trusting dragonslayers with weapons?”
“Fair point.” Victoria sighed. After a moment more of internal debate, she started to remove her armor. She asked Sylvia for some help, and before long, she stood before the hammerspace dragon in a sports bra and athletic shorts, glad that her friend was a dragon and not a katul, or a human.
Sylvia looked her up and down; Victoria jokingly asked if she thought she was hiding knives or something. “I... already checked, actually. Just thought dragonslayers wore something more underneath. Laundry day?”
The human grimaced. “It’s done, just... I wasn’t thinking earlier. Er, so, hands?”
“Hands!”
Victoria tentatively held her hands out in front of Sylvia, who pressed them together with her little paws. She brought her muzzle right next to the woman’s fingers, then looked up and said, “just so you know, I’m not letting you back down from this.” Before Victoria could ask what she meant by that, the dragoness opened her jaws and lunged forward.
She could hardly believe her eyes. Her arms looked just fine all the way down to her wrists, but there... they simply weren’t. Sylvia’s snout started, and her arms stopped. Her hands were surrounded by something warm, squishy, and wet, and when she tried to move them or pull them apart, they were pressed back in on each other. Then, a wave of pressure rolled down the hidden hands, and Victoria watched as more of her forearms also shared her hands’ plight. She wiggled her hands more, but there was no change. It took a few seconds for her mind to finally piece it all together: Sylvia was eating her. Somehow.
Another swallow pulled her elbows in, locking her arms out straight. In the back of her head, Victoria knew that she really ought to be panicking, that being eaten by a dragon was something she should not be going calmly into. But still, even as she bent over to the table, leaning down towards the dragon’s tiny body, it was hard to really take it seriously. After all, if she turned her head, she could see that not one of Sylvia’s scales were out of place, so CLEARLY the tiny dragon couldn’t be swallowing her.
A moment later, and she no longer had that problem. Her head was buried deep in somewhere dark pink, surrounded by hot, wet flesh, and any time she moved her arms or twisted her head, all she heard was wet “shlrk”s and squishes as she was guided back into position. The dragoness’s next swallow came more quickly, as though anticipating the human’s reaction:
Now that her eyes were no longer trying to tell her she wasn’t being eaten, Victoria came to the obvious conclusion: her friend had betrayed her trust for a meal. However, she found that she wasn’t scared, or terrified. Be it her own natural inclinations, or her, admittedly incomplete, training as a dragonslayer, Victoria instead found rage. With a primal yell, she twisted and turned, thrashing her arms to try to choke or even gag Sylvia, and she kicked one knee up, trying to feel her way into slamming into the tiny trickster. Unfortunately, the next thing she felt was her knee pinned against her belly, joining the rest of her upper body in the tight, slimy tunnel. Dragon drool got in her mouth, so she spat and sputtered as her hips, shorts, and other thigh were engulfed by the irrationally long throat. Between the heat, the steady, almost soothing noises of wet throatflesh squishing against her skin, the humid, heavy air, and simple exertion, Victoria soon found the fight slip away from her. Ankle-deep in what she thought was a very small dragon, the human sighed and let Sylvia close her jaws after her foot without a struggle.
When her head pressed against the ring of muscle, Victoria had resigned herself to her fate as dragon food. After all, the only person who knew where she was was Dzamie, and that katul would probably demand something-
Her head ran into something solid, and a clattering sound entered her ears, rather than just the constant squelching of wet flesh. Victoria opened her eyes, then sat up and- well, sat up, brushed her hair and Sylvia’s drool from her eyes, and then really opened them to see...
A pile of assorted coins, gold, silver, bronze, and more, bars of precious metals, gems of many colors, piled up nearly as tall as Victoria, herself! A trio of abstract sculptures - possibly part of a set, Victoria reasoned, though one could never really tell with that much abstraction. And, for some reason-
“So, how is it? I’m glad you calmed down eventually,” came Sylvia’s voice from all around.
“There’s... a train engine...” was all Victoria could say.
The little dragoness laughed. “Haha, yeah! One of my earlier additions, actually. I bet every hammerspace dragon does one of those, ‘okay, but CAN I eat that?’ things; I just decided to keep mine for a while, as a trophy, and over time, well, it’s a bit sentimental now.”
“You ATE and KEPT an ENTIRE TRAIN OUT OF THE-?!” the human shouted, dumbfounded, then faltered. “Uh, what’s it called, train house?”
Another laugh. “No, no, I ate a MOVING train - well, just pulling out, not that fast - and kept the engine car. The passenger car and all the delicious treats within are years gone.” There was a pause, and then. “Don’t worry, though. I’m much nicer these days, keep myself in the green zone.”
Victoria sighed, crawled over to the vehicle, and climbed into a seat. “Well, as far as places to die go, this place at least looks nicer than I expected.”
“Die? Who said anything about that? I’m not letting you stay in my stomach, you’ve got stuff to learn and I’ve got strawberries to eat, given only to dragons who DON’T have anyone stewing away in their bellies. ...willing meals notwithstanding.”
Another sigh, though this time of exasperation. “Sylvia... stomachs digest organic material. I am an organic material. I just hope I pass out before the pain gets to me too much.”
This time, there was raucous laughter, followed by a shriek and a swear. “Uh, sorry, fell off the table. You should attend more dragon biology lessons. And/or ask Dzamie for some notes, though if you do, prepare to have an entire encyclopedia dumped on you. Unabridged.”
“I’m safe?”
“You’re the biggest danger to yourself in there. Don’t smash yourself in the head with a sculpture and you’ll be fine.”
Victoria’s mind was still reeling. Nearly half a dozen earthshaking revelations in only a few minutes was not an easy thing to deal with. “And... you’ll let me out when I ask?”
“Or in half an hour. I want strawberries and that’s when there are strawberries. Oh, but make sure you aren’t holding anything when you come back up, or you WILL be eaten again, and it WON’T be to see all my shinies.”
This time, Victoria decided to take her threat seriously. And she had more reason to not “rain on her parade” about being a deadly maneater.
Sylvia the hammerspace dragon wants to indulge on her favorite day: the day the Dragonslayers Guild cafeteria has strawberries! Unfortunately, it seems fate and herself have conspired to set obstacles in her way. But she REALLY wants those strawberries! (2029 words)
Above the heads of dragonslayers and dragonslayers in training, soared a small, golden dragoness, only a couple of feet long. Sylvia flapped her wings, twisting herself through corkscrews and slow loops as she hummed a happy tune. She glided along over heads helmeted and unhelmeted, katul and human, on her way towards the cafeteria. It was a very special day that day, one that made her consider spitting out the pair of trainees who called her a harmless mascot. Well, spitting them out sooner. It made her light mood lighter still, the active reminder that she, too, could be a man-eating dragon and terrorize a rather small bit of countryside. Not that she would, of course, but knowing she could was pleasant.
With agility and grace, the tiny dragon slipped through the open door to the cafeteria and made a beeline for the desserts, where a number of slices of strawberry cake lay out for guild members. Sylvia landed behind them, folded her wings, and looked up at the human keeping that area stocked. "Hi, Bruce! I smelled strawberries~!" she called up to him in a singsong voice.
Bruce waved at her, his curly hair kept in check with a cap. "Hey, Sylvia. But you know strawberries are for those who aren't eating people, right?"
Sylvia's wings drooped and she swept her tail around her in a draconic pout. "Aw, c'mon, how'd you even know?"
The human crossed his arms over his chest and smiled, holding up two fingers. "Simple," he explained, "one, better than even odds this time of year. Plenty of newbies around who've yet to learn Rule Number One. And two," Bruce's smile grew into a self-satisfied grin, "you just told me. Lucky guess turned into a certainty."
The little dragoness huffed, flapping her wings once and slapping her golden tail against the table. She had been betrayed by her own words! "I still want strawberries, though," she insisted.
"So just- hold on," Bruce said, setting out a sleeve of cookies to replace the one that just got cleared out, "so head into the bathroom or something, spit 'em out, and come back for your strawberries."
"Turning my punishment for them into a punishment for me?" Sylvia observed, "pure treachery. Unfettered evil. I really want those strawberries." She tilted her head as she looked at Bruce, smiled deviously, and licked her muzzle with a long, forked tongue. "And you, Bruce, are standing in my way..."
The man regarded her with skepticism, eyebrow quirked to match. "They'll be here when you get back, trust me. And if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you better not be." He gestured with a hand to the people picking up cookies or cake as they spoke. "I mean, if I vanish, who will refill this? Then you've got a bunch of dessert-less dragonslayers with a pretty good idea that a dragon is responsible for their lack of sugary sweets, and possibly which one in particular. Imagine the carnage."
Sylvia squinted at him. "Bruce, I must say that your reasoning is exactly as strong as mine," she said slowly, "and, as you are still keeper of the strawberries I so crave, I will concede and presently return, devoid of humans." She stepped across the counter, picking her way carefully around desserts until she found a good space from which to take off. Just before spreading her wings, she turned her little head to face him again. "Can I eat you after lunch, then?"
"Sorry little lady, I have some very important not-being-eaten-by-a-dragoness to do around then. Fully booked."
"Alas, schedules," Sylvia conceded, then leapt up and flapped her golden wings. Some crumbs from a nearby cookie blew away from her wings' downdraft, but it was otherwise a very polite takeoff. She climbed, then dove and banked to speed off towards an unoccupied restroom. And by unoccupied, she meant the out of order one.
The small dragon pushed the door open with some effort, then slipped inside and perched on a sink. It was easy to see why there was a sign up on this one - two of the sinks were simply not there, as were a few stall doors. Either way, it made the perfect isolated space to disgorge a couple wet fools. And so she did.
The tiger katul quickly got his bearings, then noticed Sylvia and skipped back to keep his distance. The human was a bit slower, and, on seeing the dragoness, she shot the katul a cocky smile. "See? We're perfectly fine."
The feline nodded, not daring to take his eyes off of her. "I'm grateful," he said in a quiet voice.
"You're welcome!" chirped Sylvia. "This would've ended differently if you were, like, graduated members who should know better. I'm nice to the new guys."
"Sure you are," the human remarked. "You're surrounded by dragonslayers; there's no way we were ever in any danger."
Sylvia turned on the tap she was perched near and took a quick drink before addressing the woman. "Under three humans or katul a week, with low hoarding, and they can't even challenge me, let alone force me to accept. It's part of the enchantments around their swords and the duel circle things." She gave each of them a pointed look. "Small category dragon, green/yellow threshold. You'll have to learn it for... what is it, second year? Well before you get your real Slayer's Sword." She turned to the tiger and smiled. "But she's kind of right - I'm rarely lethal, just like to remind people of that first Rule. Know what that is, guy?"
The katul opened his mouth to answer, but the human cut in faster, "yeah, yeah, take all dragons seriously, even if they don't look like a threat. But you're clearly not a threat. You're like a scared-straight... thing." She snorted. "Hell, you're probably an herbivore or something, can't even process meat so you just do what you did to us."
A growl rose and died in Sylvia's throat, and she turned to face the woman, baring her sharp yet tiny teeth in a wide grin. "Care to bet your life on it?" she asked, forcing a sweet tone too much to be natural. "I'll eat you again, and if I'm really harmless, I'll have to let you out eventually."
"A... and if you're not?" the tiger asked.
"Then I won't have a human in my belly, I'll have a large chunk of meat and some shiny accessories I'll want to add to my hoard," Sylvia replied in a nonchalant tone. "You, however, aren't at risk here, just Little Miss Doubtful here." The dragoness leaned towards the human. "Scared? I don't bite."
Sylvia was conflicted, herself; on one paw, it would be nice for the woman to learn her lesson and back down, but on the other, eating her would be so cathartic... Fortunately for Sylvia, it wasn't her decision to make. The human stepped forward and held out her hands, then smirked towards the tiger. "I'll see you in a few hours," she said, confident in her decision. Sylvia took the offered hands, easily gulping the much larger human down without so much as a bulge in her neck or belly. And then, it was just her and the tiger.
He took a cautious step forward, watching her. "Where did she..." he trailed off, bewilderment overtaking his newfound fear of the golden dragoness.
"Oh, right, you wouldn't have seen since I ate you first!" Sylvia swished her tail, reared up on her haunches, and flared her wings proudly. "Neat trick, huh? Hammerspace dragon. We're pretty awesome."
The katul glanced at the door. "Y-yeah... may I please leave, ma'am?"
"Yeah, of course, the door's right-" Sylvia paused as his phrasing sank in. "Oh, you're terrified of me. Whoops. Um, right, so I'll go ahead and leave so I'm not trapping you in here." She took to the air again and flapped over to the door again. She struggled to open it, but with just a crack open, the smell of strawberries reinvigorated her. "Ooh, right, strawberries! Gotta go and pester Bruce some more!" she chirped, then slipped back out and swiftly flew straight back to the desserts area.
"Such a hurry," Bruce remarked as she slowed, the tiny breeze from her wings blowing against his face as she rapidly decelerated, "I told you I wasn't gonna run out of them."
"And I told you," she replied, folding her wings, "that I really want them. Give the dragon her delicious strawberries, please!"
"Belly free of people?" he asked, watching her closely. It was simple enough that he didn't expect her to lie, but just in case...
"No humans, no katul!" she chirped.
"No dragons?"
Sylvia recoiled. "What sicko would eat a dragon?! Yes, of course no dragons!"
Bruce chuckled, turned around, and returned with a pound of strawberries in a small, cardboard container. He set it down in front of the small dragoness, whose mouth fell open in a broad smile and whose pupils expanded at the sight of her favorite fruit. As she placed her forepaws on the edge and leaned in, Sylvia said in awe, "so this is what a religious experience feels like..." before leaning in and slowly taking a bite from one of the fruits, moaning softly as the juicy, tart flesh filled her mouth.
"Sylvia, member of the Dragonslayers Guild Strawnagogue, and her holy book The Frageriah," the human said as he watched her lovingly devour one of the fruits. Anyone familiar with her could tell when she really liked a food, because she'd bite into it rather than swallowing it whole, and strawberries were by far her most beloved food. He glanced up and saw an unfamiliar tiger katul, damp fur only somewhat groomed down, walking up. "Hey there," he called when the katul drew near, "new here?"
"Yeah, it's been... rough. Is getting eaten normal for dragonslayers?" He picked up a slice of strawberry cake.
"Well, it's one of the more common ways to die trying to slay a dragon," Bruce said, "but it sounds like you're the one Sylvia swallowed earlier. She just about threw a fit since I wouldn't give her strawberries with someone in her stomach."
"I did not! Fits are unjustified and excessive; what I did was perfectly reasonable!" Sylvia retorted, poking her juice-soaked head out of the strawberries. The katul screamed and leapt back half a dozen feet, eyes wide on seeing her. "What's his prob-" she looked down at her paw, then licked her muzzle experimentally, discovering the red juices on her muzzle. "Oh. Wow, he's been really unlucky with me." She blinked, then ducked back down into her strawberry heaven, slowly working through the treat, bite by tiny bite.
The tiger pointed a shaky, striped finger at the little dragoness. "Stay away from her! She killed a woman in front of me, like it was just another Thursday for her!"
Sylvia froze. Bruce froze. "Sylvia..." the human said in a warning tone, "care to explain? Because I asked you about this before giving you those strawberries."
The golden dragoness took another bite. Bruce gently picked her up, pinning her wings with one hand and holding her neck in the other. She dropped the strawberry. "I... do not consider what is in my stomach to be a human?" she pled.
Bruce was not very convinced. He walked around the counter, keeping her a reasonable distance away from the frightened newbie, and marched towards the cafeteria exit. "No murder in the cafeteria," he scolded, "naughty dragons do not get strawberries. Try another day."
The little dragon wiggled in his hands, but could not free herself. "This is cruel and unusual punishment, it violates the Geneva Conventions!" she argued, "I simply made sure to eat a meal before my strawberry dessert. How dare you mistreat a responsible, mature dragoness like th- woah!" She quickly righted herself when he tossed her into the hallway, then left her there as he went back to his post.
"Next strawberry day," she resolved, licking her scales clean of delicious strawberry juice and seeds, "next time, I will get so many strawberries."
