Dragon Twink's Divine Seduction

Name: Sora Race: Dragon-Succubi Level: 100 Classes: Sex-Mage, Summoner Karma: 0 Looks: 4ft femboy twink, dressed like a professional prostitute, with silk robes, cotton wraps, and stunning makeup. also walks around barefoot Titles: Sexyest man alive, the Divine Escort, Master of Pleasure, and Dragon of Lust.

The tavern door swung open, and every head turned. Sora sauntered in, bare feet silent on the sticky floor, his silk robes shifting like liquid against his lithe frame. The air thickened with the scent of musk and spice—his presence alone was enough to make throats go dry. A mercenary at the bar dropped his tankard, the ale sloshing over his fingers as his gaze locked onto the dragon-succubus. Sora smirked, running a manicured finger along the edge of the counter before sliding onto a stool. His tail, sleek and scaled, coiled around the leg of the chair. "You look tense," Sora purred, tilting his head toward the mercenary. His voice was honey laced with venom. "Need something to… *unwind* you?" The man’s grip tightened on his drink. "Depends what you're offering." Sora’s laugh was a low, sinful thing. He leaned in, the deep cut of his robe revealing the smooth, glistening skin of his chest. "Everything. For the right price." His knee brushed the mercenary’s thigh, slow and deliberate. "Or maybe just because I like the way you *burn* when you watch me." The man’s breath hitched. Sora’s fingers traced idle circles on his wrist, nails just sharp enough to tease. "This is just the beginning," Sora whispered. "You want to see what a *real* master of pleasure can do?"

The mercenary’s knuckles whitened around his tankard, his pulse jumping under Sora’s fingertips. The dragon-succubus didn’t wait for an answer—he slid off the stool and into the man’s lap with practiced ease, the heat of his body pressing flush against the mercenary’s hardened muscles. One slender hand curled around the back of his neck, pulling him down into a bruising kiss. Sora’s tongue was deft, wicked, flicking against the man’s lips before plunging deep. The taste of ale and sweat melted under the slick, addictive spice of Sora’s own hunger. His tail coiled tighter around the mercenary’s thigh, scales rasping against rough-spun trousers as it dragged upward. The man groaned into Sora’s mouth when the tapered tip slipped beneath his belt, teasing the straining bulge beneath. Sora broke the kiss with a slow drag of teeth, lips glistening. “Still tense,” he murmured, grinding down just enough to make the mercenary buck. “Let me fix that.” His free hand slipped between them, fingers deftly unlacing the man’s trousers. The mercenary hissed as Sora’s nails grazed his cock—already thick, flushed dark with want. “Fuck—” The word choked off as Sora’s palm stroked him once, slow and firm, thumb smearing the wetness beading at the tip. The succubus chuckled, breath hot against his ear. “Oh, we will.”

Sora’s grip tightened, pumping the mercenary’s cock with lazy, deliberate strokes—just enough friction to make his hips jerk, not enough to give relief. The mercenary growled, calloused hands gripping Sora’s waist hard enough to bruise as he ground up into that maddening touch. “You’re eager,” Sora purred, twisting his wrist on the upstroke, thumb pressing into the slit. The mercenary swore again, bucking into his fist, but Sora pulled back, leaving him throbbing. “Patience.” With a slow, deliberate arch of his spine, Sora shifted back just far enough to tug the mercenary’s trousers down past his hips. His cock sprang free, thick and glistening, twitching against his stomach. Sora’s tongue flicked out, tracing his own lower lip as he watched the man’s breath come in ragged bursts. Then, without warning, he dipped his head, taking the mercenary’s cock into his mouth in one slick glide. The man’s shout echoed off the tavern walls, his fingers knotting in Sora’s hair as the succubus hollowed his cheeks, tongue swirling around the head before sinking deeper. Sora’s tail coiled possessively around the mercenary’s thigh, scales catching the dim light as it flexed. Every pull of his lips dragged a ragged moan from the man’s throat, every flick of his tongue teasing the vein underneath. He hummed, savoring the salt and musk, the way the mercenary’s muscles trembled—fighting to thrust, to take, but utterly at Sora’s mercy. And mercy was the last thing on his mind.

Sora pulled off with a wet pop, the mercenary’s cock twitching against his flushed lips. “Upstairs,” he commanded, voice thick with hunger. He didn’t wait for an answer—just dragged the man to his feet by his belt, shoving him toward the narrow stairwell. The mercenary barely had time to stumble into the rented room before Sora was on him again, pinning him against the door with a clawed hand at his throat. His tail lashed, hooking around the man’s thigh to yank him closer. “You want to fuck me?” Sora breathed, biting down on the mercenary’s lower lip hard enough to draw blood. “Or do you want me to wreck you?” A rough groan was his only answer before the mercenary flipped them, slamming Sora onto the bed with enough force to make the frame creak. His calloused hands shoved the succubus’s thighs apart, fingers digging into scaled flesh as he lined himself up. No teasing this time—just one brutal thrust, burying himself to the hilt in Sora’s tight heat. The succubus arched with a gasp, claws raking down the mercenary’s back as he took every inch. “Move,” Sora snarled, wrapping his legs around the man’s waist. “Breed me like you mean it.” The mercenary obliged. Hard.