This is a scene that Ahastar and I played out together recently - Bolt the bronze dragon takes Ahastar the reluctant raptor with him into his geyser pool and has a nice morning soak, using the raptor to clean his foot pads and generally to play with. Many thanks to Ahastar for allowing it to be reproduced here!
This scene was also the inspiration for this picture:
Warning! Contains violence, gore, pain, suffering and sexual content!-----------------------------------------
Bolt lies asleep upon an earthy mound in one corner of the chamber, his magnificent body sprawled out with all the lazy, contented complacency of a eighteen ton dragon at the peak of his prime and all too aware of his own splendour. His flank rises and falls with a slow, deep rush and the tip of his tail gives the occasional twitch, but he is otherwise completely still, seldom stirring and never moving more than to heave a long sigh or shuffle his sleek bronze bulk slightly to one side. His chin rests over the broad girth of one well-muscled foreleg, while the other front limb stretches out away from him, its heavy paw resting solidly over the slender form of Ahastar and very nearly covering the raptor in a posture as posessive as it is restraining. While torches add their flickery illumination to the darker recesses of chamber, the majority of the young dragon's great cave is now lit pleasantly by the diffusion of daylight that streams in through gaps in the rocky roof and stabs down through the steam over the geyser pool in two broad, bright shafts. The large, fresh, half-eaten carcass of something lies a few metres from Bolt, and various splatters and stains of dark, dried blood crust the scales of the dragon, suggesting a hunt took place late the previous night. Eventually Bolt stirs, sensing the mid-morning sun despite his thick scaly eyelids, and with the liquidic grace of a dragon waking naturally from a good night's sleep, he slinks onto his flank and yawns luxuriously. The bloody forepaw that had pinned Ahastar down during the night now slides coarsely off the raptor, leaving him stiff, numb from poor circulation and helplessly immobile beside his stretching captor. Bolt finishes up by lifting his horned head to greet his long-suffering trample pet with a lively "Morning, little guy! Are we thirsty today?"
Letting out a brief, groaning grunt, Ahastar yet again tries to shuffle into a position that doesn't feel like being completely caught in a low-powered garbage compactor, with only mediocre success. It is absolutely stunning how many parts of your own body can drop tranquilized due to being cut off of the blood flow, while your brain on the other end doesn't manage to get in a lick of sleep. "Hunnnghhrrrrrrr..!", the half demon moans out, flexing every last muscle of his that he still can control, trying his best to press himself in a new position-but even with all of his impressive power, he can't even begin to nudge the young dragon's coarsely padded forepaw. It is not unlike being covered by a super-super-super-heavy ordnance blanket, probably designed to keep you nicely warm in the absolute zero environment of outer space. In fact, Ahastar can't complain about the heat he receives. Both the sheer amount of flesh deployed on him and the warmth radiating from the dragon's body keeps the raptor nicely tempered. Being unable to do much more than look forwards, the half demon's finger-crotched gaze peers over the actually quite nice scenery. The beautiful steam rising up in the cave from the geyser pool, dancing with the air. The idle rays of shimmering sunlight, reflecting from Bolt's hoard as if hitting a gigantic prism. "OUUURRRFFFFF!" Ahastar grunts out with the young dragon's movement, the half demon peeling off of his waking trample torturer with a ressssSSSssssounding slourp, dropping witlessly to the floor. Finally, with his neck remembering where that damn entrance to his throat arteries was located, Ahastar manages to lift his snout up and, after slamming his numb face into Bolt's rocky cave floor only twice, gets somewhat of a gaze onto the young dragon's regally horned skull. With all the stoical indifference of a creature that is still battling with getting the god-reptilian footprints of the day before worked out of his bones and muscles, Ahastar answers "..is there and reply to that that doesn't end with me being trampled more?"
Bolt snickers and shakes his muzzle, replying, "No, I just decide that as we go along." After waking, his energy always materialises with shocking speed and the big dragon, so recently slow and lazy, now sprawls nimbly onto his front and rises up onto all fours to tower proudly over the grounded form of his raptor toy. "Anyway, maybe you'll feel like being trampled after you've had your morning drink," he says, stepping over Ahastar with a none-too-accidental flaunting of thick, black foot pads and strolling over towards the geyser pool. The spaded tip of his tail descends to scrape along the cave floor and casually drag-roll the stiff deinonychus behind him. At the edge of the water Bolt bends his powerful forelegs and dips down to drink from the lightly steaming water, sending ripples out from his muzzle to lap at the rocky edges of the pool while he drinks his fill. The sleek back sides of his hind paws are put on prominent display before Ahastar as the dragon contentedly drinks his fill, but it isn't long before one inevitably lifts and stretches forward as Bolt purposefully dips his hind paw in the water. After splashing it around a little, the dragon curls back on himself and grins at the resigned half-demon before flopping down on his flank and sliding the doused hind paw out in front of Ahastar. "Good raptor," croons the smirking dragon while he watches his little captive begin to lick and lap his morning drink from the dripping sole presented to him.
Ahastar gives Bolt's yet again towering, energetically grinning dragon-muzzle as much of a gaze of contempt as a pretty rodent-sized-to-a-dragon half demon can do before being put to doormatting duty yet again. Quickly performing a jolt of shocked tension when the towering monster stalks over him with all of its might and weight, the half demon slams his own forearms protectively on top of his snout, curling up to a ball of red-and-white scales and hissing out a panicking "nooooo!" much, much louder than he intended.. most likely out of being terrified of the young dragon planting any of his massive paws right on top of him in its wake. Bolt's fine nostrils manage to get a brief scent of his raptor's terror, sweet and delicious, before his sharp senses are occupied with the fresh, relaxing and hot smell of bubbling water. For the keen nose of a dragon, it is easy to tackle all the minerals floating inside it. The scent is alluring, full of health and utmost cleanliness, the intense, bubbling temperature only amplifying that impression. That pesky little raptor of course has no taste for the finer things in cavern life- or maybe it is only completely preoccupied with the sight of his draconic tormentor so generously exhibiting his raptor-pulverizing hind paws, before luxuriously casting one of them forwards, sinking it deep into the bubbling, simmering water, then dropping on his back, flopping down near the half demon. The sudden, crab red hue Ahastar's face has taken on does not root from his very close proximity to the hot-washed dragonfoot. It probably has more to do with the smug gaze he receives from the other end of the wyrm- and the playful stretching and clenching of evisceratingly dangerous dragon-claws. Yet still, after a moment of hesitation, Ahastar opens his muzzle up wide, his rough, coarse little raptor tongue poking out of its hiding spot and starts to lick and lap all over Bolt's exposed sole. The shimmering claws. The heavy scales. The shining black pad. Isn't it amazing what a throat as dry as desert sand makes you do?
Bolt props his head up on a forepaw while he contentedly watches Ahastar lick, and he lifts his other foreclaw to scratch at his chin, only then noticing the stains of dried blood that adorn his scales. "Hey, what gives?" he complains, splaying out his forepaw to examine its upper side, then curling his head inwards to look at the rest of his bloodied flank. His yellow eyes fall on the carcass of his late-night meal and he nods his head, suddenly enlightened. "Oh, right." Vanquishing a slight frown of displeasure at the messiness, the dragon turns to Ahastar, who is still feverishly licking the last remnants of water from deep within the grooves of his sole pads and he smiles brightly. "I went out hunting last night, little guy, and you didn't even wake up when I took my paw off you. I was gonna seal up the cave entrance behind me when I went out, but you were sleeping like a hatchling so I just left it open and guess what?" He pauses, jaws open and eyeridges raised in excited anticipation. "You were still here when I got back! What a loyal little pad pet you are!" And with a final snort of amusement, he pulls his huge hind paw away from Ahastar and rolls onto his front, getting up. "Anyway, I'd better wash all this blood and stuff off me now. I guess I was too tired last night. Come here," he adds, swiping Ahastar up in a padded forepaw and tossing the raptor casually into his jaws before striding into the steaming water. "Ooh cah help."
Ahastar licks with all of the almost cult-like fervor of a creature that has already lost its dignity with its first tongue contact against draconic padsole. By now, the half demon just seeks to sate his thirst. Unfortunately for him, the nearly bubbling hot water does little to quell that urge- it is simply just too scalding, and Bolt's hot paw-flesh certainly does not help the problem. The result is a half demon that aches for sucking up every last drip on his trample torturer's feet just to calm one of his many pains. Ahastar does his best to not look up at his keeper while he is busy orally pedicuring the immense reptilian clawfoot, but no matter how badly he tries to ignore it, he can't miss the fact that Bolt is *radiating* dominance from his very pose. He looks somewhere between a royal regent ruling over a raptor and a draconic philosopher about to ponder the deeper meanings of crackling deinonychus skeletons in a specific musical pattern. With his tongue pressed flush against the hard, coarse pad of the middle toe, the half demon peers up to Bolt's face yet again. The dragon twitched. Ahastar HATES it when the dragon twitches, because it usually is the start of the dragon moving. And the raptor prefers non-moving dragons. Contrary to what he was afraid of though, it is not Ahastar himself that perked Bolt's attention. In fact, the young dragon looks down its own bloodied forearm and flank with a bit of a puzzled expression- only then his face lights up with understanding. The moment the young dragon mentions his quite successful hunt, the raptor shifts his gaze over towards the mangled, half eaten corpse, the saurian's mouth always staying in kissing contact with his tormentor's walking pad though. Yet when Bolt goes off on his tangent, Ahastar's neck-crest rises up in offense and the raptor begins to sputter! "I.. what.. no! I was awake the whole.. I mean.. I would have noticed if you.. the sound and.." .. .. that rock! That damn rock! Yesterday it was planted on its mossy side! That accursed dragon is right! Ahastar must have overslept a rumbling cave opening. Turning red from embarrassment and anger, the half demon drops his snout to heel level and keeps licking there, yet only briefly. The raptor can barely look fast enough to witness himself flying upwards, clenched hard between Bolt's vicious jaws with a dangerous, sssssssssrrrripping sound! "No helping! NO HELPING!
The huge geyser pool fills the back half of Bolt's treasure chamber, stretching some sixty metres away from the rocky edge of the pool to the far cave wall, around which several ledges and outcrops provide lounging spots out of the water. Steam rises from the whole glassy surface, but considerably more thickly from the centre of the pool where the submerged geysers pump out their volcanic heat, and more sparsely from the cooler peripheral waters. Waves ripple out from him as the dragon splashes and wades deeper with energetic strides and small bounds. He pauses when submerged up to his belly and creeps forward slowly, feeling the bottom of the pool as he proceeds, then in a sudden thrust, the huge quadroped surges smoothly into the water and swims gracefully towards the middle, still carrying Ahastar in his jaws. There is a sharp hiss as the half-demon is half-submerged in the hot water by the swimming dragon and the violent screeches and agonised writhing cause Bolt to stop swimming and glance down at his captive in puzzlement. He rears up and leisurely treads the water as he unfolds his wings to cup great bubbles of air beneath the surface and keep himself effortlessly affloat, upper body raised above the surface. "Hey, what are you wriggling about?" he says after bringing a steaming forepaw up out of the water and taking Ahastar out of his jaws to inspect the raptor suspiciously. He glances down as the half-demon's spaded tail hits the water and immediately flicks up out of it as the raptor gives another pained hiss. Bolt gives an amused snort and says, "Aww, too hot for you huh?" He experimentally lowers his forepaw towards the surface of the water and laughs with lively energy as Ahastar hugs up against its padded underside and attempts to flatten himself up away from the steaming pool. "It gets a lot hotter in the middle, little guy. I guess you'd better not try to get away," he adds with a predatory smirk, and tosses the raptor back into his jaws to continue swimming.
Ahastar at first still tries to struggle himself free from his rather impaling predicament, yet after the dragon's teeth manage to draw a few first squirts of pierced blood, the raptor quickly halts his struggling again. In fact, the half demon actually tries to aid the might beast's movements! He does manage, if barely resisting screeches of pain, until Bolt heaves himself in the steaming water with much more gentle grace than one would trust such a massive dragon to sport. Of course, Ahastar is not dumb- even after having been trampled all over his face and brain by dragonfeet easily capable of crushing a knight in armor, warhorse included, he knows that something that steams should better not be touched. As such, the raptor always stayed clear of Bolt's magnificent geyser pool. One does not mettle with a dragon's bathtub! Yet even with all of that caution and awareness, Ahastar would never have expected this pool to be this damn sizzling hot! The pain of the scalding water even manages to outdo the gnawing intrusion of the young dragon's carnivorous teeth. The raptor lets out a trembling, rattling screeeeeech right next to his keeper's ears. Even Bolt has to raise his scaled eyeridges in surprise at the sudden scream, as well at his tiny plaything wriggling so vigorously even though it is still caught in the reptilian equivalent of an iron maiden, with only its self preservation to have in mind. As maliciously smart as Bolt is, he simply lacks the necessary perspective to understand Ahastar's sudden rush of movement. Does the raptor try to escape? Here? In the middle of the pool where he could just catch him? He couldn't even hope to struggle free from his teeth. In fact, the half demon probably cuts himself senseless in the process. Why does he.. Again with the screaming! And certainly, the dragon now understands. The water! To him, it is not much more but an enjoyable swim. To his non-draconian pad pet though, it is probably nothing short but scalding. "AURRGHHHHHH!", the half demon snarls out with the young dragon grasping and holding him, mockingly sinking him to and fro over the water. The half demon clings to Bolt's padded forepaw, tries to press himself flat against his draconic keeper's palm or climbing up on top of his hand right away- with little success. Instead, the half demon gets a second tour of swim and scald, much to his torturer's entertainment.
The dragon's geyser pool is considerably shallower at its centre than around the halfway points, and Bolt is soon able to stand and wade again, great waves of steaming, bubbling water washing over his breast and shoulders while he strides purposefully forwards. For the most part he holds Ahastar up out of the water, but occasionally dips his head down low to the steaming, bubbling surface to get a reflexive hiss of terror and give an answering rumble of amused derision. At the very middle of the pool, the geysers gush close to the surface and the water is barely up to the dragon's belly. Bolt stops here and prowls around a little, seeking out his favourite bathing spot: three large smooth boulders that form a deeper crevace between them with a ridge that almost breaks the surface of the water for resting one's head on. "Here we oh," Bolt says at last, his mouth full of raptor, and sprawls onto his back with a happy growl and a great splashing surge of scalding water. After much sprawling and shuffling and repositioning he finally settles down in the most blatantly luxurious posture imaginable: above the surface of the water protrudes a small mound of his chest, a tiny circle of his belly, all of his neck and head, the upper regions of his forelegs, his knees and the clawed tips of his back feet. After heaving a deep sigh that blows turbulence into the steamy air, the young dragon hunches a hindlimb up against his underside, bringing his upturned foot out of the pool with a surge of water and splaying out his padded sole in all its glistening glory, then he takes Ahastar from his jaws and deposits the raptor on top of its padded underside. "There you are, little guy, You're safe from that scary water... for now." And the huge quadroped snickers up at the sight of his captive raptor, and bounces his great muscled back leg up and down a little for teasing emphasis.
Ahastar hissnarlsgrunts with every wading step the young dragon takes, stirring up the bubbling water while he strides. The half demon desperately tries to keep himself out of the scalding harm's way, but that proves to be remarkably difficult a thing to do with approximately 35.000 pounds of cranial pressure holding you close in between a set of jaws liberally outfitted with more or less jagged daggers. After trying to wriggle, push, slip and jolt himself free with little success, Ahastar finally opts for just trying to evade the single surges of water the dragon slams up and facewise suspiciously high. Of course, the deinoychus only has very limited moving abilities in his vile predicament, especially when the young dragon keeps plunging his massive snout down deep every now and then. The rising, wafting steam grows increasingly hot with every inch it comes closer to the water's mirror, with the white vapor rising from right above it being that scalding that the raptor can't even breath, being too worried of scorching his lungs. Retching and coughing, Ahastar's entire body is dripping with condensed wetness by now, the parts outside of Bolt's muzzle from the intense warmth of the geyser pool, the parts inside of Bolt's muzzle from the dragon's fiery breath. The raptor swears he can smell the beast's inner flame simmering deep down within Bolt's chest, but that impression quickly turns to the least of Ahastar's problems! Having to viciously suppress the urge to puke, the raptor has to cling on tight to his tormentor's lips as the bold creature -and thus the half demon's entire known current universe- spins by 180 degrees. And unfortunately, the position it ends in shows to be even more uncomfortable. In fact, that black hole the little saurian finds himself pressed against first, then clenchingly, screechingly riding upon by bull-grabbing the dragon's middle claw, proves to be Bolt's upturned walking pad!
Bolt settles back against the rocks and grins toothily up at Ahastar, the raptor now stranded on an island of steaming pads and scales, and surrounded by a sea of near-boiling water. "So," the dragon says, conversationally. "Do you reckon you're tough enough to jump off me and swim back?" He pauses and inhales the steamy air, inflating his impressive chest so it creeps further out of the water. "Smells pretty hot for a raptor... I guess if you boiled to death in the middle of my pool, you'd just resurrect in the water and boil again! That would be pretty funny to watch actually," he adds, and turns his sleek horned head to look into the water beside him with a soft, omoniusly thoughtful "Hmmmmmmm." After a pause, he looks back at Ahastar and smirks, then splays out his long, clawed toes with a quick flick, causing the raptor's arms to slip down between them and his upper body to smack down against the hot, wet sole beneath him. Neatly, the toes clench again, clamping Ahastar's arms and preventing him from pulling away from the underside of the huge scaly dragon foot, and Bolt gives a triumphant smile as his victim struggles against the strong grip of the thick scaly digits. "So shall we play boil-the-raptor now?" Bolt asks after a moment of watching Ahastar's fruitless pulling, and he raises his eyeridges suggestively as the half-demon shoots him a terrified, pleading look over the top of his thick upturned toe pads. "Awwwww," croons the young dragon. "You're still thinking about the cave being open last night, huh?" He reaches a dripping foreleg up to gently stroke the curve of a wet claw down Ahastar's spine - an act that pushes the raptor firmly into the hot, black foot pads underneath him. "Well I was only kidding, little guy, it wasn't really open. I only leave it open when I chain you to my back leg and take you for a run in the clearing. Hey!" he adds with sudden enthusiasm. "Maybe we can do that after boil-the-raptor!" And with that, he abruptly dunks his coiled hind limb fully down into the scalding water, plunging the struggling half-demon with it and holding him beneath the bubbling surface for a few leisurely seconds before slowly stretching his scaly leg up above him again and leaning forward to keenly survey the effects of the water upon his diminutive victim.
Ahastar, after getting somewhat used to his now rather shocking surroundings, has to battle with yet another problem: even though the dragon's immense hind feet have been lifted up quite high from the scalding water, they still took a generous wading inside of it. The result are patches and drops of still hot moisture, presenting a temperature to hapless raptor flesh that is still anything but comfortable to the touch. That leads to a few rather comical moments of Ahastar desperately trying to evade the steaming spots, not slipping off into the certain scorching doom beneath him and producing as little humbling dragonsole-contact as possible, all at the same time. Of course, Ahastar has to compromise, yet fortunately for him, Bolt soon begins to talk, thus letting all other raptorian activities tumble downwards the priority list. The half demon's lower jaw keeps dropping further earth-ways with every scaled syllabi, until the toe-riding saurian decides to join the conversation: "Actually..", he gasps out, "that would be a rather bad decision! You see, I.. well.. it just doesn't work that way with the resurrection, I would have to be.." ..Being at a loss of words and wits and at a surplus of intimidation, the half demon just spreads his arms around in a desperate search for words hopefully floating through the air. That proves to be a particularly dumb idea though- *ssssslip!*-*BATSCH!* .. When Bolt stretches his toes apart, it sends the raptor's hands slipping through the two crotches, thus also sending Ahastar's face to very nonchalantly plummet against the dragon's tough and coarse middle toe. When the raptor tries to lift his neck back up and pull his arms free again, he has to face both an immense, toe-clenched wall of dragonsole and the fact that his limbs are brutally deadlocked. "No! Noooononono!", Ahastar snarls out as he finds out where the way is going! The raptor screams. Claws. Stretches. Pulls. He even bites into Bolt's toe. But it doesn't prevent his trip deep, deeeeeeep down into the simmering pool! Like a delicious piece of frozen raptor-sticks being plunged into boiling oil, Ahastar completely disappears from sight, but pays back the fluid environment with a sudden outburst of rising bubbles at the water's surface. Besides that gushing noise, the cave briefly turns to complete silence- yet that is torn apart the moment the grinning young dragon lifts his hind foot back up, and a steaming, screaming, crab red and dripping raptor with it, a few heat blisters already having formed up on the submerged saurian's bare hide.
Water evapourates rapidly from Bolt's magnificent body as he lies sprawled on his back in the shallow water; the big droplets and pools that formed over his scaly hide gradually steam away to nothing and leave behind only clean, dry, gleaming bronze. The dragon's pads, being coarser, take longer to dry than his scales, but eventually these also stop steaming and only lie glorious and black, deforming ever-so-slightly under the writhing of the tiny scaled body clamped against them. Bolt's muscle-packed hindlimb drips and trickles, the water running down his calf and ankle with a natural beauty that the relaxing dragon feels faintly disappointed that his scalded victim is unable to see from his restricted vantage point: With his arms still clamped between the dragon's drawn-together toes and his chest pulled firmly against the great black ball pad of the huge reptile, Ahastar is able to do nothing but lash his tail and scrabble his legs, skittering and sliding his sickled raptor feet harmlessly against the sleek, smooth scales that coat the arch of Bolt's great hind paw. "Aww, you didn't like that, huh?" snickers the dragon, his muzzle edging left and right as he inspects his steaming victim, holding his hind leg forward above his scaly underside. "I like you in red, little guy. It makes you look dangerous." With a self-indulgent sigh, the smug dragon leans back against the submerged rocks and unclenches his toes to allow Ahastar complete freedom of movement atop the hot black sole pads of his raised hind paw. "Now then," he continues, shuffling his submerged bulk a little. "Let's play 'dragon island'!" And he lifts his other huge back leg out of the water with a great surge and a billowing cloud of steam, and turns his sole to face upwards above him. With both hindlimbs up out of the water, Bolt smirks at Ahastar and begins slowly lowering the leg upon which the raptor is perched down into the water, whilst twiddling the long clawed toes of his other foot invitingly. "Come on! This is the safe island! Jump, little raptor, jump!"
Ahastar dearly apologizes for being unable to applaud the artistic beauty formed out of the combination of draconic scales and steaming water running from it! Unfortunately though, the still murderously toe-wedged creature is currently busy trying to keep its cooked flesh at least somewhat wrapped around his tired bones. "Naaarrrrrghhhhhh!", the raptor groans out, his tail viciously lashing left and right, his legs kicking, flailing, steaming just like the rest of the creature they are plugged into. FINALLY, Ahastar feels his hands slipping free! Much to his and his backwards-slamming neck's further troubling though, the dragon released him with little warning. "Auurrrrghhh!", the saurian snarls out, his sickled feet skittering madly over Bolt's ankle while the deinonychus' handpaws keep trying to re-climb the monstrous surface that is the dragon's up-lifted hind foot. Pain? Oh, what is the agonizing sensation of forcing all these pre-boiled-for-your-convenience muscles in rapid motion compared to the threat of doing yet *another* nose dive into that bubbling pool beneath? Eventually, Ahastar manages to get some sort of competent foothold somewhere at Bolt's utterly unphased scales, the raptor heaving himself up on top of the crudely padded walking pad again.. just in time to watch it descending! Still not having a moment to deal with the ripping agony his entire hide is showered with, the deinonychus has to think fast and jump even more quickly! It would be quite a stunt to reach Bolt's other, already rising dragonfoot even with healthy flesh making up the raptor's structure, but with his blistered limbs, it becomes a nearly impossible task! Indeed, Ahastar manages to hang on to Bolt's second foot's outer toe- but first slips with one hand, then with the other! The half demon only has the quick reflexes of his jaws and the "motivating" sensation of his tail spade dunking into the boiling water again to thank for finding his entire body suddenly bitingly hanging from his trample torturer's tremendous talon. And sure enough, one moment later, the groaning, grunting, end-exhausted critter manages to heeeeeeeeave himself up upon Bolt's sole, finally being able to curl up into a shivering ball of pain! Dragon Island is a fucked up game!
Energetic draconian laughter echoes around the steamy chamber as Ahastar scabbles and claws his way onto the steaming black pads of Bolt's other sole and curls up in fearful defense. "Good raptor," the dragon finishes as he calms his self-indulgent laughter, and stretches out his impressive forelegs on either side of him to rest them over some rocks that protrude from the bubbling water. "Hey, I didn't realise you could be this acrobatic - and all I need to do is boil you!" He smirks and curls forward, bringing his huge muzzle close to the cowering deinonychus to slowly, gratutously repeat the words, great scaly lips forming carefully around them: "Boil you..." then he snickers and leans back. "Uh oh! Look, it's sinking again!"
For the next few minutes Bolt amuses himself by randomly hunching and extending his great muscled hindlimbs, forcing Ahastar to leap and climb from the searingly hot pads of one big, sleek hind paw to those of the other while his torturer lounges complacently in the water and watches, giving a lively commentary throughout. "Oooh, nearly... whoops! Aww, he's safe again... for now! Uh oh... oh-oh-OH! Woah! Good jump, little guy. LOOK OUT!" Then softly, "Awwww, here - let me fish you out again."
As the sodden, crimson-scaled half-demon is forced to jump ever more chaotically from one foot to the other, Bolt introduces other game elements, sometimes holding up a big, padded forepaw for Ahastar to leap into, or offering nothing but the slippery spade of his tail as he pulls all other limbs underwater. Finally, with the exhausted deinonuchus marooned upon the steaming palm of a bronze-scaled forepaw, Bolt slips his hindlimbs, his other foreleg, his tail and his belly below the bubbling surface of the hot water and begins to lower Ahastar again. As the desperate half-demon's searching eyes finally flit to the last portion of the sadistic dragon still above water - his muzzle - Bolt's yellow eyes gleam playfully and he gives the stricken raptor the briefest flicker of a smirk, then opens his huge jaws.
Ahastar is still in the middle of screechingly flipping left and right on top of his draconic keeper’s and owner’s steaming forepaw, the comparatively tiny raptor busy patting out small fires on top of his hide that he feels, but simply don’t exist. His flesh is twitching with redness, the half demon surprisingly non-resistive to heat – probably rooting from his father being an ice demon. How that massive dragon can bear this bone-melting temperature so casually is beyond the saurian, but fortunately, the grinning monstrosity quickly offers his distressed reptilian plaything something different to worry about. “Wait. What are you… Why do you… Argh!” Ahastar’s gaze quickly darts from the dragon’s sinking padded paw, then back up to his smirking muzzle, to the paw, the muzzle… and then finally to the other hindpaw yet again. Letting out a panicking snarl, the raptor leans up on his wobbly feet, managing to put just enough leg into his keeling position to bring on some jumping power, then screechingly dives on top of Bolt’s other, rising dragonfoot! The half demon manages to hold on to a toe with both of his hands, but with that digit still slippery and dripping with hot water, Ahastar’s right hand slides right off again. The only thing more impressive than the sudden crunching noise from the saurian’s left shoulder is the fact that he indeed manages to hang on, then sprawling and clawing and climbing his way upwards somehow, reaching the already lowering top of Bolt’s bronze foot with a madly beating heart! Shocked, Ahastar turns around again and has to aim for the former dragonpaw yet again, but just when he wants to jump over, the raptor ssssslips and lands face first on top of a monstrous claw. With his lip bleeding, the half demon now has to climb that very talon, for it is the only part of his unreliable island still not drowned in the rising scalding fluids. One second later, Bolt sports a desperately clenching raptor right on his heel. Using all of his grace, strength and agility, not to mention every limb at his disposal, the luckless raptor spends the next ten minutes playing this cave’s most disgusting game of jump’n’run, involving dragonfeet, dragonhands, dragontails and eventually a nose dive right into the blubbering floods! Ahastar’s head appears from beneath the surface again, screaming with frying heat while performing an amusing twitch that looks like a raptor attempting to swim and not to move at all simultaneously. Being the polite dragon that his owner happens to be, he only lets the desperate raptor simmer for a few moments, before he grabs his little wet-and-red plaything and takes the preboiled-for-your-convenience sauian out of the water… if only to suddenly sink all his draconic limbs down into the hellish floods once more. Ahastar’s shocked eyes open wide at that sight, but that is still nothing compared with the expression he wields upon recognizing Bolt opening this steaming, sword-toothed, blood red hell pit the dragon so charmingly happens to call a “mouth” as the only escaping hatch. After a moment of neck-crest-tucked hesitation and deep, primal fear, Ahastar does the desperate dive right between his trample-tormenting master’s lips. He can only hope there will not be any chewing in self defense.
The bronze forepaw disappears beneath the surface of the water with a rush and a swirling of bubbles and Bolt lets out a long, deep, hissing breath, closing his jaws with slow complacency in the knowledge that Ahastar has absolutely nowhere to escape to. The huge, thick, creamy-white fangs hover for a moment, inches apart, then snap shut with a smug, resounding 'thuck!' and the light is squeezed out as scaly lips seal shut behind them. The sounds of the chamber outside are muffled out and Bolt's warm, resonant voice rumbles up from deep within him, eerily close in the darkness as the dragon chuckles quietly. There is a sudden lurching movement and a muffled roaring of water as Bolt repositions himself, then before Ahastar can even think about working out an escape strategy, the great, rough tongue squeezes him to the side and the jaws part, allowing straining, struggling raptor flesh between them before easing down again with the slow, grim finality of a trash compactor. Hot, pale daggers punch deep into Ahastar's hide and warm blood squirts as the dragon begins to leisurely chew his little victim.
Settling back against a submerged rock, water running down the exposed upper portions of his magnificent body, Bolt half closes his eyes in relaxation and reaches to idly scratch at his chest. His lower jaw works rhythmically, chewing with a steady rotary motion while the muffled crunching of bones issues forth from the great closed maw, coupled every now and then with screeches of pain and protest. Only the occasional protrusions of a flailing, desperate raptor limb from between the sealed lips of the dragon give any visual indication of Ahastar's continued existence, but Bolt happily counters this by lifting a great forelimb to his muzzle and pushing any escaped raptor body parts back in with theatrical delicacy.
When finally the young dragon dips his great horned head and dribbles the half-demon into a waiting forepaw, Ahastar is limp and mangled and riddled with holes, and can only sprawl over the padded palm of the big forepaw, gasping weakly while Bolt thoughtfully licks his own muzzle and swallows down the accumulated raptor juices. "Mmmmm, tasty little raptor snacktor," he says, and leans back, lifting Ahastar to dangle him by the tail and inspect him close up. "Aww, you've gone all floppy," the dragon complains, and reaches up to prod his dangling victim with the smooth curved claw of his other forepaw. "Hmmmmm." His yellow eyes descend to the bubbling water in which he still lounges complacently, sprawled on his back and sunk up to his chest, and he says, "Maybe we should wash those wounds out."
The energetic spasm and subsequent pleading of the upside-down raptor seem to satisfy Bolt, who smiles broadly and gives a gracious nod of his head. "It's okay, little guy. I won't drop you in completely - here..." He shifts his sleek bulk and lifts both great hindlimbs out of the water with a great slosh and a billow of steam. The huge scaly hind paws come dexterously together, soles parted and toes outsplayed, then Bolt reaches forward to dangle the struggling half-demon above them. "I'll be holding on to you the whole time," assures the dragon, and his toes splay in anticipation before he drops Ahastar between his great, black, steaming soles and squeezes them together, sealing the screeching raptor between two vast expanses of boiling, wet pad flesh.
The huge-eyed raptor follows as natural an instinct as any dinosaur in his exceedingly unlucky position would try to go for – staying the hell as far away from that deep, throbbing, napalm-smelling pit making up the dragon’s beginning throat as possible! As such, the half demon copes with pressing his own back tightly against the inside of Bolt’s frontal fangs, Ahastar’s fear-shivering little fingers even daring to wrap around the tips of these monstrous, impaling pillars in order to not slip off in the ankle-deep swamp that is the dragon’s cranial saliva. It is out of that very murk though that, stretching myriads of slimy, boiling tendrils with it, rises the grim keeper of this living den! A tremendous tongue suddenly stands in front of the half demon, the startled raptor visibly soaking up foul air into his flaring nostrils. That oral muscle almost seems to peer over the white-scaled intruder, as if it had eyes of its own. Ahastar is not so much worried about that feature though – he is much more concerned about all these tiny little spikes making up the top’s surface of Bolt’s carnivorous tongue. Just like with a lion, that trait is certainly used to lap pieces of flesh off of a fallen piece of prey’s bones, but very much unlike a lion, Bolt’s seem to be designed to lap the bones of freshly slain brachiosaurs. The rest of that tremendous muscle is not any less impressively designed – it looks as if it wields enough strength to suppress a whole pack of raptors, and it is every last iota of that force Ahastar gets to feel one moment later! “Ouuurrrrghhh!”, the raptor groans out while he slips backwards, then splashes down. He fights that tongue, wrestles it, opposes it – but then again, so does a chewing gum. And one moment later, one of these and the gasping half demon have something else in common, too: excessive teeth contact! Bolt still gets to listen to some unintelligible, but definitely panicking words from in between his cheeks… before Ahastar has to endure that first steel-flattening bite! Up, down, up, down, up, down… these grasping fangs of the sadistic dragon grip into one another perfectly, and thus force their raptorian chew toy to briefly, utterly turn into an accordion-shape, skeletal integrity and spinal cords be damned, before these monstrous teeth pierce right through Ahastar’s body - *Skkkrrrt-scrrtch-sploorrtch* … The sounds shock the saurian’s system before the flooding anguish of torn apart nerves does, then the chewing begins in earnest! Ahastar screams, cries, whimpers and especially bleeds into his sadistic owner’s rock hard, razor sharp teeth. Every now and then a fleeting raptor limb manages to escape the vicious grindshredding, an arm or leg or tail poking out twitchingly from Bolt’s lip, only to be generously shoved back into the dragon’s mouth, then being punishingly bitten into for daring to be fleeting. When the dragon finally spits out his hysterical victim, the sobbing raptor is not only chewed to total exhaustion, he is also a torn, tattered and impaled at countless spots… but surprisingly not even bleeding that much. No wonder, given how much fluid runs down Bolt’s gullet when the massive dragon-camouflaged raptor compactor throws his skull back to drink Ahastar’s fluids. But apparently, the saurian has still enough in him to groan and moan and even complain at Bolt’s rude and way stronger than necessary prodding, but these rebellious voices quickly dwindle down to a begging whimper when the raptor has to realize where his journey is about to go. These two water dripping, steaming, massive dragonfeet already await him, six viciously razor taloned toes calling out for him like scaled sirens, gigantic pads already shimmering in anticipation, waiting to be fed a victim to crush, flatten, squish, imprint and destroy. The whimpering half demon manages to raise and press his chewed arms together to form a begging pose with his shaky hands even while he is descended between the two gigantic dragonsoles – but that last pleading attempt for mercy is in vain. The last thing Ahastar sees before his universe collapses to a tiny film of space between two draconic walking pads is the slowly compressing horizon of a grinning dragon, far away in the distance, ivory teeth covered with a blood red sheen.
Bolt yawns, reaching out to grip the tops of two submerged rocks out on either side of him as he stedies himself and begins to tend to the raptor clamped between his soles. Water continues to rush and run and trickle down the huge scaly feet as their owner begins to squeeze and splay his thick, long draconian toes with rhythmic motions, testing the integrity of the much smaller reptile before he proceeds. As blood squirts and gurgles from between the sealed soles of the huge padded walking sections, Bolt eases off the pressure with an amused, "Ewww!" and parts his great hind paws a little, keeping Ahastar's tail and one foreleg clamped between his squeezing, but letting the rest of the half-demon dangle free between the huge, dripping black walls of his ball pads, letting him breathe the steamy air, before slowly bringing them back together again and engulfing Ahastar once more.
After a few minutes of quiet absorbtion doing this, the young dragon snickers and shakes his muzzle as though coming back to his senses. Ahastar still clamped between his great, long hind paws, he slowly lowers them towards the bubbling surface of the geyser pool. Whether detecting the heat or the downward motion, Ahastar begins to struggle violently, but all his protestations only amount to a tiny, amusing throb between the soles of Bolt's otherwise utterly motionless paws, and the dragon acknowledges this effort with a condescending 'Aww," then plunges him underwater.
In the searing, bubbling torrent of geyser water, the great scaly paws begin to slide back and forth against one another, stretching, compressing, rubbing and rolling Ahastar between the thick black soles before lifting him lurchingly out of the boiling water to continue this motion in the steamy air. Over and over again the dragon repeats this, briefly dipping his tiny trample toy under the water's surface, then pulling him out to steadily knead and rub him between the ample foot pads. Whenever the sleek draconian paws are not drowning and boiling Ahastar, they are squeezing him agonisingly between soles designed to give protection and traction to a eighteen ton dragon, and to a raptor only give pain and damage, endlessly crushing and suffocating him in their hot grip.
If the dragon’s voracious teeth were deemed to be trash compactors, Bolt’s massive hind paws are artificial diamond compressors. Caught utterly between the two earth-cracking, village-hut-flattening, kingdom-demolishing dragonfeet, Ahastar finds himself so overwhelmingly crushed and pressed that he can’t twitch a single finger, for even that would require the most minuet shift in Bolt’s pad flesh – and that is something it simply refuses to offer to the desperate half demon. There is no light, there is no air, there is no WORLD. The only thing that remains to be witnessed besides infinite pressure are sounds. The constant tune of crunching bones turning to fragments and fragments turning to dust inside of his very flesh, as well as the light, but quick throbbing of Ahastar’s heart as well as the deep, whumpeting, relaxed and enjoying thump of Bolt’s own. Then, all out of a sudden, the pressure dwindles, and is gone! Light hits the raptor’s eyes, and with it the sight of steaming water so far down below. Ahastar tries to scream, but the compressing padsoles dislocated his jaws, turning his sound of distress into a drowning gurgle that already fits the scalding fluids down below, even though the half demon never gets to taste those. Looking up to see what stopped his drop, the whimpering raptor has never been that happy before to behold one of his arms as well as his tail getting the crushing treatment. Unfortunately, they are not kept alone with that for long, for already the two monstrous black-and-copper soles come closer again. Screeching out, Ahastar violently shakes his muzzle. He pushes his legs against the two narrowing surfaces, brings his free hand in to help – but all three raptor limbs are crushed like matchsticks when the two dragonfeet close again, giving the sadistic dragon’s trample toy another well deserved compression. Again and again and again the cruel beast tortures Ahastar like this, and with every round the squashed senseless raptor offers less of a fight, until he eventually only dangles in thee, limp, defeated, exhausted, accepting to be constantly squeezed. He drools blood and saliva when his face is free, and drips from both draconic heels when it is not. Oh, how much this posture of passiveness changes again when the saurian beholds himself being lowered to the searing floods once more! “No… not again… NOT again… I can’t feel my skin any more, I am…” … silenced by clawfeet yet again, but my … does that raptor energetically twitch when the drowning, boiling and especially the vicious counter-rubbing begins afterwards! No wonder though: Not only performs his draconic keeper this cruel move with far, far more pressure and force than what would be necessary, he also does it with raptor hide that is both boiled red and throwing heat blisters by now. The pain must be quite exquisite, which is easily recognizable by a desperate Ahastar eventually biting into his owner’s walking pad in insane self defense, and only hurting his teeth in the process.
When Bolt's crushing soles finally pull apart, Ahastar doesn't fall from them into the dragon's waiting forepaw so much as slide slowly down the thick pad contours of the one to which he is firmly stuck and require the greatly entertained bronze to prise him free with a helpful claw. "It's good that you like my pads so much, little guy," Bolt says matter-of-factly as he brings the spluttering half-demon to his muzzle for another inspection, casually stretching his impressive hind legs up towards the steamy cave ceiling. "'Cause I reckon raptor scales are good for them. They always feel nice and tingly after we've had one of our friendly trample sessions." He smiles brightly and whips Ahastar away again, hunching forward a big hindlimb and splaying out his thick, long toes. "A raptor's scales cure what ails," he rhymes, grinning toothily at the squashed, boiled half-demon, once again dangling by the tail from a viciously powerful forepaw of the young dragon. "And raptor claws are sure to cause some pleasure when they rub my paws," he adds, unceremoniously gripping Ahastar's body length in his padded palm and hunching forward a great back leg, his long draconian hindpaw flattened out and dripping. With casualness that is shown up only by the deep thrumming rumble of his purr, Bolt smacks Ahastar's exposed underside against the upturned sole of his scaly paw and begins to attentively scrub his pads with the raptor.
What muted protestations force their way out from the engulfing sole are drowned in a torrent of splashing, sloshing, hissing and purring as the big dragon scrubs, thrusting the small body of his trample toy back and forth across the impressive length and width of his strong, handsome dragon foot and making an utter mockery of Ahastar's struggling attempts to escape. Across the width of the ball and deep within the grooves of the toes Bolt scrubs Ahastar, taking particular care to squeeze the swollen raptor flesh into the creases of his pads and over the thick scaly flesh between his digits. Every so often the lounging dragon pulls Ahastar from his pads and hauls open one eye to briefly inspect the raptor, before plunging him into the water and shaking him around, only to draw him out coughing and spluttering, steam billowing from his tiny body, apply a firm squeeze in his great padded fist, then return him to the splayed sole and continue to scrub. By shifting his posture slightly and variously tilting his great taloned appendage, Bolt is able to get the raptor in contact with absolutely every inch of his vast scaly foot, from the softer hide underneath his huge claws, right down the length of his padded toes, from one side of his hefty black ball pad to the other, up and down the sleekly-scaled arch and all over the firm, rounded heel. Ahastar is squeezed viciously, squashed into pad grooves and toe crotches, rasped, scrubbed and worn against big rough pads and hard sole scales, and half-drowned in boiling water every few seconds, and all for the sake of cleaning just one of the dragon's hefty hind paws - eventually Bolt tosses the stricken raptor into his other forepaw, splays out the toes of his scrubbed foot and stretched his leg pleasantly, then hunches forwards his other huge hindlimb and smacks Ahastar to the steaming black pads of his other sole to begin again.
For some more moments, there is nothing but pressure and pitch black darkness for the luckless raptor overwhelmingly garbage-compacted between the smugly smirking dragon’s monstrous hind paws. Not a single scale of Ahastar is still poking out from in between the crushing padsoles. He is that compressed, that squashed together that he can’t even twitch his sore muscles. It takes way more guts than the raptor still wields to admit that this torture is probably not as crushing as being outright trampled beneath his draconic owner’s clawfeet, “lacking” the weight of a full grown dragon on top of them, but the overwhelming agony it induces by sheer muscle strength is very much in the same league. When being stomped into oblivion underpaw, Ahastar’s flesh at least sometimes manages to find a few cracks or crannies in the ground beneath in which to seep a few vital organs into, but between Bolt’s two feet as the only surface – there is not an inch of space that would save the half demon from utmost compression.
No wonder then that the moment the fire breathing monstrosity sees fit to pull his paws apart yet again, Ahastar is utterly stuck to his tormentor’s rough-scaled, reptilian tread. The fact that his poor, mangled body even slips down a few inches like warm raptor puddy simply a result of Bolt’s two gnat-crushing clawfeet not instantly agreeing on which of them the raptor should linger against, only released from his prison of bone-marrow turned glue when his owner peels his little plaything off with a deep, rumbling draconic laughter, so smug and patronizing that the sheer sound of it seems to crawl all the way down the dragon’s leg to lick over Ahastar’s distressed face. It doesn’t get much time to enjoy this… gentle sensation though, for before the raptor even manages to relocate his lungs currently at his tailtip and right elbow soon enough to soak some oxygen into either, his obliterated form is already *THOMPED* on top of Bolt’s up-turned hindpaw’s sole by a cruel clawed forehand, the dragon’s palm supplying enough force to probably rip the tip of a mountain right off and wrap it around a guard tower.
The only part of the half demon still poking out from in between inverted dragonfoot and smashing handpaw is the cute little white skull, having to deal with the entire cruelty of that impact just on its own, the small head viciously jolting up and down with cranium-crushing fury! The lost, shocked gaze in Ahastar’s eyes and his jaws slowly parting to spray a fountain of blood out together with his nostrils testify the vicious power of that move. The gory liquid doesn’t even have a chance to rain down into the scorching water before the hapless half demon already finds himself mercilessly scrubbed and rubbed over Bolt’s immense dragonfoot! The beast’s handpaw slides the little, bruised sponge remorselessly over sandpaper-rough sole scales, a whole plain of slick yet gripping pads and more reptilian hide than Ahastar cares to remember. The raptor is face-slammed into claws that will crush first and shred second. He has his groin tormentingly scrubbed over dragon heels that feel as if they would be crafted out of rock and steel. He has his feathercrest abused to scrub between the dragon’s deep toecrotches, grim digits barely managing to twitchingly resist the urge to press the very soul out of their caught little victim in between.
And every single time the half demon is about to lick the doorstep of the gateway to blessed unconsciousness, Bolt’s brutal handpaw traps Ahastar in a fist so strong it could bluntly shear an elephant right in half, bashed into the boiling water with enough force to make the moment of its mirror’s penetration feel like falling on a plate of iron to the defenseless raptor, before being yanked so rapidly through the scalding flood that every last bone in Ahastar’s body dislocates. The half demon actually has to form himself into a ball in Bolt’s fist, biting in his own arms and wrap his shattered legs and tail around draconic fingers, for if any of the raptor’s limbs would simply loosely slack around inside the water, they would surely be torn off by sheer inertia. Being removed from the searing lake beneath and finding himself in the possession of five limbs still is no happy return for the sobbing saurian, for every time this vicious cycle is completed, he finds himself right again slammed into the boat-sized, padded tread of his owner.
If mother nature would happen to behold Bolt’s raptor-scrubbing antics, behold Ahastar being viciously swished all over the lording monster’s massive hindpaws, she would probably blink at the young dragon, pat its paws and then exclaim “What do you think you are doing? I gave you these to trample down an army, horses and ballistas included, and maybe to crush a village and its castle down to rubbish every now and then. And you are using *these* on one single raptor? Look, he is hardly even poking out of your hand he is so small, are you fucking insane?” Of course, mother nature would only say the last few words with a respectful whisper, for even she would probably shiver at the stern gaze from one of Bolt’s eyeridge-cocked, amber slit-eyes promising her to be made a scrubber for the dragon’s second foot instead of him using that raptor right now.
"Aaaah, this is the life," Bolt proclaims, splaying out his long clawed toes as he firmly rasps Ahastar against the hard, scaly top side of his hind paw. "Just you and me and the boiling water, and nothing to but have a nice soak and scrub each other clean." He leaves a brief pause - just long enough to let the ludicrousness of this statement ring in the watery ears of his tiny captive, then he indignantly adds, "What? I'm cleaning you too, little guy - look!" Again the spritely bronze dragon thrusts Ahastar into the boiling water and swishes him about, then draws him out and squeezes him dry like a sponge, before returning the rubbed-raw sauruan to the inner side of his huge scaly foot and continuing to scrub. "Who'd have thought you were a red raptor under all that dirty white, huh?"
As he finishes cleaning his second hind foot, Bolt takes a moment to inspect it, hauling the great scaly appendage forward to check the cleanliness of its big black sole pads, then extending his hindlimb and splaying out his toes with a noise of satisfaction. "You make a good bath toy," he says, casually dropping Ahastar back onto the upturned pads of his hot, steaming sole, and he settles back aganist the submerged rocks, briefly stretching out his muscular forelegs before tucking them behind his horned head and grinning at the mangled, limp raptor - a picture of smug, careless dominance. "I wish I'd brought you in with me before, but then I didn't want you seeing all the holes... thinking you'd try and sneak out by swimming over here." He snickers and bounces Ahastar up and down atop his rapidly-drying sole. "Didn't think you'd be such a softie when it comes to heat, little guy. I don't mind you knowing now - look..." The vast, muscled hindlimb stretches upward, angling Ahastar back on top of the sleek, scaly foot as Bolt points to the cave roof directly above. "See? There's a hole up there where the steam's swirling around. And there's another one down there," he adds, relaxing his hindlimb and pointing down into the geyser pool. "Right down near the bottom. The water goes out through there - that's why it's always so fresh and clean." A broad smile and another playful bounce as Bolt cups his forepaws behind his head again, saying, "So that's one way to get out, little guy - but you'll have to swim out here first." He suddenly and leans forward to impart, "So if I wake up one morning and find you stuck in a resurrecty loop, boiling to death over and over in the middle of my pool, I'm gonna know what you were trying to do! That'd be pretty cool, huh?" And the young dragon snorts in lively amusement, taking his sodden little trample toy by surprise as he quickly squeezes his great padded soles together and engulfs Ahastar between them.
A coarse sliding sound rasps up as the thick, wettened pads begin rubbing together in broad circular motions, stretching and crushing Ahastar between them with rhythmic fluidity. "Tongue out, little guy!" the dragon calls, forepaws still cupped behind his scaly head while he rubs his great hindpaws together. "I feel scales stickin' but no tongues lickin'!"
Ahastar hangs limpy over the top of the young dragon’s merciless forepaw, the raptor looking as exhausted as if he would have spent the last two weeks running a marathon each day while suffering from 40 degrees of fever. The saurian barely has enough power to soak in some much needed air. His entire body is one single symphony of pain! Everything feels scalded to numbness with dry, underlying anguish, or rubbed and scratched raw from being constantly slammed and torn into Bolt’s punishing pads and rasping foot scales. As such, when Bolt begins to talk down to him yet again, all Ahastar can do is move his tired, boiled red eyes over to his towering tormentor, jaws lightly opened as if to reply something, even though no sounds leaves his lips. “Clean, alright”, the half demon thinks. He sure feels as if he would be clean to the bone by now, at some spots of his body that even might be literally the case! Ahastar does not dare to look at the parts of his flesh that got it worst, even though he does shift groaningly left and right inside his keeper’s grasp, the strong fingers of his vile draconic owner holding him wit way too much force.
The second the raptor notices his renewed descend towards the scorching flood though, the silence ends with a high pitched “NYAAAAAGHHHH!” and two flailing dinosaur arm – flailing! Good lizard gods, Ahastar, in his shock, completely forgot to tug his arms to his body, and when Bolt yet again begins to thrust his helpless victim through the thick, boiling floods, the tear of inertia is absolutely gruesome! The moment Ahastar is pulled back out again with a waterfall accompanying him, the raptor hoooowls with pain, his eyes quickly darting left and right to his arms – they are still attached, but they sure don’t feel like it any more! No wonder… the dragon with all of his strength plowing through the pool sent Ahastar’s loose arms flinging around, stretching them out by nearly twice their reach with every rapid change of locomotive direction. *crracckkrrrunnchhhh* - “GLLOUUURRRGHHHHH!” Again, Bolt squeezes the very with and sense out of his tiny “sponge”, quite drying Ahastar out and only stopping a fraction of a second before the half demon has to evacuate his guts out of every orifice his body has to offer, just to send him slamming face first into the flank of the dragon’s second hind paw, once again brutally grinding the whimpering saurian up and down over the grating surface. White scales and begging pleads for mercy fly through the air hand in hand for a felt eternity, before, with a yelp of surprise, the half demon suddenly finds himself first airborne, then deftly slamming down on top of his keeper’s up-turned padsole.
Humiliating and doom-promising as this presence may be, Ahastar is just… infinitely happy to finally have some surface to completely collapse upon, and that is just what the raptor does! He doesn’t care about forcing his mangled, maimed body into even more dragonfoot contact that way, he just needs a damn break! His little, by now red snout peeks down at Bolt’s explaining muzzle through one of the dragon’s toecrotches. Showing absolute defeat, the alerted raptor is just barely able to hold on to his keeper’s clawed foot while he lively explains possible escape routes. “Yeah, but… no thanks…”, Ahastar thinks to himself. The insane heat of that water left aside, he would certainly drown when he tried to swim to his freedom, and an eternity spent drowning sounds only marginally better than being a dragon doormat.
*SSCCRRRUNNSSSCHHHHH!* … Of course, one moment later, the half demon might think differently about it! Pressure! Yet again nearly cell-bursting pressure! Once more, Ahastar finds himself garbage-compacted between both of Bolt’s padded soles, once more his skeleton dislocates all at once, his flesh is compressed and his organs nearly cease functioning. And then… the rubbing starts. It is a feeling like being caught in the middle of a moving tectonic plate, and the heat surrounding these clawfeet sure matches that idea! And still, the dragon is not satisfied. Ahastar barely managed to hear the growled out command, his ears being both clogged and crushed, but still… the raptor opens his cracked little mouth as much as he can to bring out his tongue wide and clear. Apparently, and much to the raptor’s shivering humiliation, his owner is no longer satisfied with making Ahastar only feel, hear, smell and see these god-like, freshly spring-watered dragonfeet. He needs more!
A slow hissing sigh escapes the maw of the young dragon as he feels the tiny sliver of sensitive tongue flesh protrude against his vast, tough padded soles - muted, pathetically faint and all but undetectable, but swamped with rich, luscious symbolism. "Gooood raptor," he croons, closing his eyes and resting his head back against his forelegs while water runs down the sleek, scaly contours of his beautiful draconic body. Lounging on his back, paws in the air, half submerged so that his chest and belly form two islands in the bubbling water, Bolt looks the picture of careless, contented relaxation. Water glistens off his bronze scales, which gleam a bright, brilliant gold in the steamy sunbeams that drift lazily down from the high ceiling of the chamber, and every now and then his gleaming hide bulges as smooth muscles ease into action, grinding Ahastar between the hot, wet soles of his hind paws or dipping the engulfed raptor fully into the water to lubricate his parched tongue and allow him to continue licking (the irony of this last act not at all lost on the silently smirking dragon).
It doesn't take much of this treatment to arouse Bolt rather more intensively, and after a few minutes the great reptile begins to purr: a bassy throbbing sound that ripples and bounces the water around his sprawled body. He finally unclasps his forepaws from behind his head and drops one to idly stroke the gleaming shaft of tense black flesh that has long since begun to creep forth from between the scaly lips of his cloaca. Thus occupied, the young dragon rests his head back against an island of rock behind him and begins to firmly work Ahastar's boiled, softened body between his thick black soles, squeezing and rolling the diminutive raptor with suffocating pressure and a hard, rasping scraping noise as his rough pads rub together, and pausing every few seconds to open one eye and gaze serenely at the gasping half-demon until Ahastar dips his tired muzzle and returns his tongue to the waiting soles. On and on this torture continues, cycle after cycle while Bolt grows ever more aroused and less and less careful with his little bathing toy. Despite the hot, stifling pressure that is mercilessly exerted by the great hind paws that hold Ahastar in their iron grip, occasional squeezes of sudden, shocking force squash Ahastar into momentary panic - casual reminders by the dragon that he could apply far more pressure if he so wanted.
Ahastar sure would wish he could say that to him, too, having his tongue joining the many, many pieces of his body fully exposed to the dragons boulder-rough, compressing, grinding hind-paws would only be a tiny addition to the game. It is, in fact, not. His draconic owner is a flawlessly clean creature, still it is odd to perfectly taste the flavour of the heated reptilian padfeet like this in a 100% dust-free form. It is not a bad savour, mind you, in fact, it is a lot like the combination of slick, copper-esque combined with leather Ahastar usually had in his mouth when licking himself clean, back then in the day before all raptor cleansing was done without the aid of boiling water. Of course, lapping himself sober never tasted like utmost defeat and submission, either.
Naturally, the raptor can not really compare these “AUUURRRGHHHH” … unnghhh… these rib-cracking, hut-crushing, army-flattening dragonfeet with lapping the white back out on his arms after a day in the summer rain. In fact, the stern surface these tough, constantly grinding paws are made of are that exhaustive on Ahastar’s tongue that he needs to cease his licking every now and then, and try to reach up and massage and sooth his aching throat muscles a bit. Not an easy undertaking either, because Bolt’s behemothial reptilian padfeet keep pressingly rolling their half demon around like a little clay doll! It is brutal strain on the saurian’s already demolished body. Ahastar actually has to wait every now and then for foot one crushing together little enough of his body to allow the rest of the sole-scale imprinted deinonychus to streeeetch all the way up to Bolt’s second hind foot to give it another thorough, worshipping licking session, accompanied by suiting whimpers of degration, disgust.. and boiling rage.
The last is also the one emotion that is quickly fleeting the most every time the tremendous dragon beneath him gives Ahastar a hind-paw-delivered, crushing squeeze that almost makes the raptor’s eyes pop out of their sockets! The last time Bolt does that, the startled half demon feels something explode inside of his gut, leaving him to screechingly gurgle… and looking down at his beastly owner to beg at him to cease these squeezes! But… the moment the raptor takes sight of the young dragon beneath him purringly comfortably and shamelessly pleasuring himself at Ahastar’s tremendous expense, that rage bubble returns with a vengeance – of course only to be burst together again by boulder-crumbling pressure!
Bolt's breath swirls the steam above his muzzle, his breathing becomming faster as he enjoys the firm manipulation of Ahastar between his huge sleek hind paws. While the hot water undoubtedly eases the toughness of his own hide and pads, still the contrast in softness between his own vast dragon soles and the exhausted raptor between them grows exponentially as Ahastar is gradually boiled alive and tenderised by repeated immersions in the bubbling water and rasping rubs between the great bronze paws. This sensation of heating and softening his tiny trample toy is what sends Bolt over the edge and into a downhill plummet into the darkest depths of sadism. His paws stop rasping and he lowers his head, opening his yellow eyes to give Ahastar a look of the purest utmost malice, a broad smile spreading across the sleek contours of his scaly muzzle.
"Sorry, little guy," he says, breathing strangely deeply, his chest rising and falling in the water. "Sometimes you just can't suppress these things. I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow." And he firmly grips the tense length of his erection, his purr deepening in pitch as he does so. Out of the water, the dragon's sleek tail slides up, water running down its bronze length and dripping off the steaming black spade at its tip, and Bolt uses it to carefully scoop up the limply dangling limbs, tail and finally head of the half-demon and carefully tuck them between his great draconian soles, finally squeezing both together and sealing the squashed raptor between them as he pushes back against the submerged rocks behind him and begins to firmly pleasure himself. The water ripples and sloshes around Bolt's huge body, waves forming crests as they roll out from him and break over shallower regions of the pool, and the great dragon begins to crush and squeeze and knead Ahastar's mangled body between both hind paws, jaws cracking open a toothy slit as he closes his eyes and enjoys the feel of a warm body breaking between his padded soles. Crunches and crackles are squeezed out of the engulfed raptor, Bolt's hungry paws finding new things to splinter while they continue their firm, slow compacting, and the dragon continues to lift his tail and re-insert any raptorian appendages that squeeze free from the crushing grip of his soles - often doing so without even opening his eyes.
Presently the dragon begins arching his back, his gleaming underside rising up out of the water as he pants up to the steamy cave ceiling. His free forepaw swings out and slaps down upon an unsubmerged rock, gripping it, tendons bulging as he curls and strains in tumbling pleasure. The big scaly hind paws jerk, toes splaying apart, then they thrust together with a mighty surge of force as Bolt gives a great shuddering grunt and orgasms forcefully, popping Ahastar in a squirt of messy crimson and smearing the raptor to pulp as he scuffs his padded soles apart and kicks out in the steamy air.
Ahastar by now has forgotten any taste he once acquired at some point in his life. Fresh, tasty compy meat? Gone. Dew water having collected on Lotus petals just waiting for a raptor to shove its snout against and lap? Not longer in his memories. The flavour of summer air after a thunderstorm? Yeah, well, sorry, we need the room for even more memories of how every single scale and pad of your dragonlord’s crushing padfeet taste like. The endurance and patience Bolt sports when it is all about his little raptor licking the bottom of his gigantic dragonpaws vastly surpasses the same qualities his hapless victim is willing to offer, but unfortunately, Ahastar gets no veto rights. He just has the right to keep on getting his tongue out and watch out for it to not accidentally slip into the gaps of a few sole scales and probably be torn off as Bolt keeps circling his squeezing paws further.
The half demon is just busy orally exploring the somewhat loose reptilian hide presented to him by an open-held, bronze-shimmering toecrotch, when suddenly an… icy feeling stings Ahastar from down below. It makes his neck scales stand on edge, and rightfully so! For if you are in the company of a fire-breathing lizard resting in a scalding geyser pool the size of your former cavern hideout while holding you in between two paws that truly deliver some rubbing and hot-blooded heat as well, feeling *anything* that qualifies as “icy” sure should prompt any raptor to look down. Ahastar does. How much he wishes he hadn’t! That peer he gets from Bolt’s glowing ember eyes is nothing short of a dragonlance, piercing straight through Ahastar’s soul and pinning it against the lair wall at the opposite end of the den. This is an archaic, magma-lizard-executioner’s gaze!
“No.. no WAIT!”, the raptor still manages to screech out, one hand held out in shock-trembling plea … only to have it wrapped around by Bolt’s tremendous, pitch-black tailspade. That is the last thing Ahastar gets to see before his horizon shuts down, framed by two now fully compressing dragonfeet! The half demon at once is in a world that consists of nothing but pressure. The sensation is that intense that his body even forgoes any pain signals transmitting to the raptor’s brain, his flesh – or what’s left of it – noticing that this insane compaction is far, far more dangerous and fatal than any amount of burning and tearing apart could ever hope to be! And still, there is nothing the half demon can do! He is pretty much molten into the dual walking pad of his fetishistic owner. Ahastar’s heart has no room to beat, his lungs no space to breath oxygen that his crushed windpipe could not possibly hope to suck in through his shattered cranium around its skull’s deadly sealed lips! Not even his blood can flow through his body any longer, for his arteries turn two dimensional.
Ahastar still gets to hear the muffled thumping of Bolt’s heart right through the dragon’s soles, gets to listen to the heavy duty foot bones straining to cope with that amount of pressure and pushing. But then… it is too much even for the half demon’s body! With an unearthly screech from somewhere out of the rampaginly pleasuring himself dragon’s dual feet, a tiny part of the saurian’s frame just ceases to exist and is replaced with red goo – and the moment that speck of a defence crumbles, it takes the entire rest with it: Ahastar *viciously* implodes! The fact that not a single drop of this paste manages to seep out of Bolt’s clawfeet testifying both the unspeakable pressure as well as his tail’s dedicated work! Not even when the young dragon pulls his feet apart is any sort of tendril forming up between them – Ahastar is nothing but seeping, thick juice and all of that is now filling up the gaps between Bolt’s sole scales!
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Awesome adventure, and thanks for sharing the RP! 
