Chapter 3

The door to Darryl’s room opened as he walked in bearing several dozen textbooks and the heavy press of school work on top of school work. He had an essay on the history of the early Roman Empire (as it pertained to dragons), a paper on the underpinning of motonic magical manipulations using a manifold equation (which every other dragon treated as if they had been using manifold equations since they had been born), and of course, five chapters of reading spread across books on combat, strategy, gold management, mining, and heraldic symbology.

That last one had been his fault. He had thought it was a music elective. How was he supposed to know that a class on Tinctures wasn’t about those big drums?

And none of this had done anything to yank the other worries out of Darryl’s head. For example, he still wasn’t entirely sure what PE actually was if it wasn’t physical education. And said PE teacher, Tazo, hated his guts. That wasn’t fixed.

But then every worry and bit of stress on Darryl’s shoulders fell away with a nearly audible crash as he stood in the doorway and looked down at his girlfriend. Sasha looked up at him, tugging the plastic zip cuffs tight - the plastic zip cuffs that had been slapped around Xia’s wrists and ankles then lashed together with thick bands of leather and metal, making the silver dragonness look as if she had been trussed up by a Japanese rope bondage fetishist.

The tableaux held for a few long moments as Sasha looked up at Darryl and Darryl looked down at her.

“What?” Sasha asked, as if she didn’t know why Darryl was giving her that look.

“The fuck is going on here!?” Darryl squeaked, grabbing and swinging the door shut.

“Well,” Sasha said, standing up and brushing her hands along her hips. She was naked, also, which was becoming less of an odd thing for Darryl, considering how most of the dragons going to Prismatic High treated pants as things for other people to worry about. “I was recharging my mental energy, so I’d be ready to resist the sex appeal of the, uh, other dragons.”

Darryl noticed that someone had tucked what appeared to be a rather large replica of his own dick in the corner of the room. It was still slick and moist. Sasha glared at him before he even opened his mouth to ask. He nodded, gesturing to indicate she should go on.

Sasha sighed, grabbing her shirt and tugging it on over her head. Her voice was muffled for the time it took the shirt to slip past her nose and chin and snap down to cover her. “Basically? Xia came in without knocking, despite me locking the door.” She shook her head. “And she started putting two and two together. So I knocked her out.”

“How?” Darryl asked.

“This!” Sasha held up a nasty looking collar. The edges had small vials that looked like they had been filled with liquid. Needles thrust in from the middle of the collar, and Darryl could see tiny, slightly charred electrodes. “Now, watch the prisoner, I need to reload it with horse tranquilizers.”

Darryl scowled as Sasha turned away from him, grabbing up her backpack. Opening it up revealed a bunch of curious looking paraphernalia, including a pistol, a few hand grenades, a second collar, a clunky looking handheld computer, a laptop, and a wrist watch that Darryl was almost positive did far more than telling time. He shook his head. “Wait, wait, wait! Hold up!” he said, lifting his hands.

“Yes?” Sasha asked.

“We have a knocked out dragoness,” Darryl said.

“Yes,” Sasha said.

“In this room,” Darryl said, pointing down at Xia.

“Seems to be.” Sasha nodded.

“Who will immediately blab to people the instant she wakes up that you’re a freaking superspy!” Darryl hissed.

“Firstly, thank you,” Sasha said, smiling slightly. “Secondly, she’s not going to tell anyone.”

Darryl looked at her pistol.

“No!” Sasha said.

“Oh, fhew,” Darryl breathed out. “I was worried for a second.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t waste one of my DKBs on a knocked out dragon,” Sasha said, shaking her head. “That’s what the eyeplugger is for.” She reached into the detritus and pulled out something between a drill and a wine corker with a punching grip. She held up and grinned at Darryl.

“Not filling me with fucking confidence, Sasha!” Darryl said, grabbing the eyeplugger from her hand, jerking it away from her.

Sasha scowled. “Fine, we just need to, uh, sneak her into the forest, and have a skyhook pull her into a black box observation lab at Gitmo where-” She stopped at Darryl’s look.

“You’re just suggesting that because she slept with me, aren’t you?” He asked.

“No!” Sasha said, scowling.

“For a superspy, you’re sometimes a bad liar,” Darryl said, crossing his arms over his chest. “No Gitmo! Xia’s ... nice. For a ditsy dragon adulteress.”

“We’re not married,” Sasha muttered. But that was more for show, something to say as she glared down at Xia. She sighed. “Fine” She brushed her hands along her thighs, as if wiping away the dust of hard labor. “Fine, fine, what do we do then?”

“Uh...” Darryl rubbed the back of his neck, drawing an utter blank.

Xia groaned quietly. She started to squirm on the ground, her wings fluttering slightly against the restraints that Sasha had slapped on her. As her eyes shifted under her lids, Darryl looked at Sasha, who shrugged and said: “We could pretend it’s part of the roleplay.”

“No,” Darryl said, shaking his head. “Lets tell her the truth.”

“Ah, yes, what a wonderful idea,” Sasha hissed.

Xia opened her eyes with a groan. “Ugggh...” she whispered, her voice sounding scratchy - as if she had spent her whole nap gargling rocks. She blinked her eyes so slowly that Darryl was worried she had started to fall back into unconsciousness again. Then she tested the restraints on her body, mumbled something unintelligible, and turned into a formless, jelly-like substance. She flowed through and around the restraints, then reformed into her humanoid dragon form and stood up, wobbling from side to side.

“Note to self...” Sasha whispered, looking chagrined.

“My head,” Xia said, rubbing her scaled hands along her forehead, tugging on one horn gently. “Bleugh. I feel like I slept in a woodchipper again.”

“Again?” Darryl asked.

“Darryl!” Xia blinked away the faint haze that seemed to have filled her eyes. She grabbed his forearms and stepped forward. “Darryl, I have to warn you! Your fucktoy, she’s not who she says she is! She hit me with a weird gizmo that knocked me out and also, she, she, she...” She trailed off. “S-She’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Darryl said.

Xia spun around to face Sasha, her rump pressing against Darryl’s hips. Xia’s tail froze as Sasha was holding up her pistol. It was a sleek looking weapon, with a silencer attached to the front. Sasha slapped a magazine of glowing bullets into it and aimed it right at Xia, her face set and serious. “Ataxia, this is a Widley pistol, with a .457 hunting magnum barrel. I just loaded it with six dragon-killer armor piercing depleted uranium slash radium core bullets. If I shoot you, you will die.” She grinned, slightly. “And since you fucked my boyfriend behind my back, I’m kind of more in the shoot you dead camp than the convince you to not nark on me camp. However, my boyfriend is a rather nice guy. So, he’s going to try and explain to you why you should do exactly what we say, even when I’m not aiming this gun right at your stupid head. Got it?”

Xia nodded quickly, then whispered. “I ... am so turned on right now.”

Darryl, whose cock had nestled between Xia’s ass-cheeks, was also hard as a rock.

Sasha scowled. “Fucking dragons.”

“I can’t help it, I never knew that a non-enslaved human was so sexy!” Xia exclaimed.

“Okay, firstly,” Sasha said, stepping forward. “This country fought a goddamn civil war over slavery-” Darryl opened his mouth, but Sasha went right over him, shoving the barrel of her pistol right against Xia’s nose. “And secondly, fuck you and fuck your dragonocentric worldview right in its ... its...” She trailed off, looking down. “You’re fucking soaked, Xia.”

“I can’t help it!” Xia stammered, her nares blushed. “Holy shit, I’m actually being dominated by a human.” She quivered slightly. “T-This is ... ah ... well, I mean, like, it’s like ... what’s that thing, where the lesser human dominates the greater human, in contravention of all natural law?”

Sasha made a face somewhere between confusion and amusement. She slid her pistol back and away from Xia’s snout. “Uh, I don’t know. That describes a lot of kink.”

“It’s like that, then!” Xia nodded. “What a novel experience!”

“See, that’s exactly what I fucking mean!” Sasha shouted, flinging up one hand - though her other kept aiming her pistol at Xia with a steady grip that Darryl rather envied. “It’s not a novel experience, humans have been exploring that sort of thing for literally thousands of fucking years, you dragons just ignore anything that you don’t personally do! Privileged sons of-”

“I meant novel for myself,” Xia said, blushing. “Can you maybe call me more names, though?”

Darryl coughed. “I think we’re getting sidetracked.”

Xia nodded. “Right...” She paused. “What the hell is going on?”

“Okay, Xia, before I tell you anything,” Darryl said, his hands resting on her shoulders as Sasha glowered at them. Slowly, Sasha started to tilt her head, her eyes dipping down to the cleft of Xia’s pussy. She pursed her lips and Darryl gulped as Xia ground her hips back slightly, squishing her ass against his cock. Darryl shoved her away slightly, holding her at arm’s length. His cock slipped from between her ass and settled between her thighs, the tip teasing the folds of her pussy. Sasha saw and scowled fiercely. Darryl focused and grabbed his own cock with his tail and tugged it up against his belly, so agitated that he squeezed himself harder than he expected and almost came from the motion alone.

When he had finished puffing and breathing steadily to get himself under control, Sasha had started explaining.

“I’m his girlfriend,” she said. “I’m also a secret agent, trained to resist draconic charms-”

Xia’s eyes bulged out of her head. “Ohmygosh, the elves are rising again!” She quivered with what looked like excitement at the very idea. Darryl had only read some of the histories of the last wars between elves and dragons. But he knew that, by this point, most elves were supposedly quite happy with their position in the draconic hierarchy. But for some reason, Darryl was beginning to suspect that the draconic hierarchy was not nearly as secure as most dragons seemed to think.

Sasha’s eyebrow twitched. Only through what seemed to be a titanic effort of will did she manage to not start shouting at Xia. But Darryl could almost picture the things she was screaming in her head: Even when recognizing that people other than dragons can do things, dragons still manage to ignore humanity’s accomplishments.

“Not rising, per say,” Sasha said. “Let us say that we have a reason to want to keep an eye on Darryl.”

Xia gulped slightly. “Do you swear, by all of your gold and gems that you are telling the truth, that elves aren’t about to rise up again?” She asked, managing to sound both utterly serious and faintly dissapointed that life hadn’t given her an exciting war to take part in. Sasha nodded solemnly. Xia breathed in, then breathed out. She lifted her snout and managed to assume a position of utter dignity and said: “I, Ataxia of Linorn, swear by my gold, gems, credit, stocks, accounts, holdings, servants, mansions, livestock, land, capital and all sundry belongings and possessions up to and including crowns, artifacts, tiaras, stockings, suits, hats, gloves-”

Sasha made a twirling gesture with the barrel of her pistol that communicated, without saying a word: Get on with it, already!

Xia coughed, then spluttered out: “A-And everything else that I shall keep your secret.”

“Good,” Sasha said, frowning.

“So, uh, with that bit of unpleasantness out of the way,” Darryl said, gulping. “Should we get some homework done?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Xia said, cheerily.

Sasha started to take the magazine out of her pistol. As she unchambered the round that the semi-automatic had loaded in what seemed to Darryl a fully automatic way, he stepped over to her, whispering softly. “Would you have really shot her?”

“Yeah,” Sasha whispered back. “But, uh, I don’t mean to tarnish my reputation...” She held up the magazine. Darryl leaned close and saw that the bullets glowed not because of radium or any kind of nasty additive. No. They glowed because their tips were gel packets, filled with luminescent dye. He looked at Sasha.

She winked at him.

“Okay,” Xia said, reading over the essay that Darryl had scribbled out as he rubbed his wrist and wondered why, if this universe was just and kind, even dragons got carpel tunnel aches when they wrote for two hours straight. “When you say here that the elven assassins were partially responsible for killing the dragon Caesar, you really need to add a quote to support your claims from the book, and cite it properly. All your other citations aren’t formatted right. Didn’t you bring a MLA book?”

“Wait, dragons use the Modern Language Association for their citation formats?” Sasha asked from the bed where she was cleaning her pistol.

“You have this weird assumption that dragons run everything,” Xia said, her voice prim. “That hasn’t been true since the fall of the Roman Empire. We delegate some things to people we can trust. And keeping the language stable became quite useful after the 16th century, when it was clear humanity’s development of technology was starting to really pick up.” She nodded. “Hence why we introduced printing presses.”

“Ah, how generous of you,” Sasha muttered.

Darryl, meanwhile, was starting to scribble out some notes from the history book. He had finished writing out the sentence Rome, bereft of direct draconic leadership for nearly five years, fell into near complete ruin when he paused, then flipped to the back of the book to check the author’s photograph. Rather than a scholarly picture of a wise looking human, as most authorial photographs were in human publications, the picture of the author here was a burly looking green dragon bending a very cute looking librarian elf girl over a desk and fucking her silly.

Pictured with fellow researcher and willing harem member, Trisha Moonbeam.

Darryl sighed. “I am beginning to question the academic credentials of this author.”

“Leytifcantorius Elffucker is quite a good historian, though!” Xia said, sounding offended. A low bell buzzed throughout the school, signaling it was time for dinner. Since Darryl’s belly had been rumbling for the past hour, he gladly slapped the book shut, stood and rubbed his hands together.

“Want anything to eat, Sasha?” he asked.

“No, no, I have rations,” she said, nodding. “Plus, no need to test my mental fortitude against a fuckton of dragons. Here.” She underhanded him a small plastic bead. He took it, blinking as Xia stood up and stretched her arms, legs and tail in a very sensual, seductive sort of way. By this point, though, Darryl had gotten so utterly used to casual nudity and the flashing of certain body-parts that he was able to safely ignore it.

“What is this?” he asked.

Sasha grinned. “It’s an ear piece. I’ll be able to communicate with you, providing backup and...” She reached over, then dragged over the collection of books that he had been pawing through. “Support. You get confused or lost, I’ll look it up and feed you the information.”

“Oh that’s so clever!” Xia clapped her hands together, in the same way someone would clap for a particularly dumb dog who had managed to roll onto its back. Sasha and Darryl shot her a look.

Xia blushed.

Darryl walked into the dining room with Xia and was almost immediately punched in the shoulder by a sleek, athletic looking red scaled dragon. “Duuuuuude!” she said, her voice excited as she leaned her snout close enough to almost bump it against Darryl’s ear. “You almost kicked Tazo’s butt during PE! That’s fucking badass!”

“I-” Darryl started.

“Hey, Darryl!” A voice called from the table. He saw a gold dragon - a male with a small mustache that reminded him a bit of Principal Lung’s - leaning against the table, gesturing with his arm. “You can sit over here!”

“Well-” Darryl tried to say.

“No, Darryl, sit over here dude!” Geotaxis called. Having resumed his male form, Geotaxis had clearly decided to weight his offer by surrounding himself with the sexist of the house servants. The maids were all looking quite happy to lean against the broad shouldered black dragon, their skirts ruffled by his hands and his tail, which were eager to grip, squeeze, pinch, slap and caress their asses. Darryl blinked slowly and walked towards the table, not sure what he should do. Before now, he had been the weirdo. But take one ill advised swing at a teacher everyone seemed to hate and suddenly, you were popular again.

So.

It really was high school.

He sat down in the midpoint between the gold dragon and Geotaxis, and the whole table shifted to get people sitting next to him. Xia, who had been watching with interest, suddenly realized that if she didn’t act quickly, her seat would be stolen ... and it was, by the red dragon who had been pressing against Darryl earlier. His left side was taken by a green dragon who immediately reached down and started to fondle his balls.