The longer she stayed with the dragons, the more she noticed their growth rate. As she ate, tears of relief poured from her eyes, caused both by the joy of being able to eat something solid with so much flavor (instead of the cum that the dragons would shoot down her throat) and the fact that these creatures had given her such a gift. She reached the closest dragon and crouched down in front of him, running her hand along the side of his face and looking into his golden eyes. One year later:
Marian stood behind an inn in Yarmouth, washing sheets in a water barrel, as instructed by her employer. “You just flew! Now, she was walking naked through the woods with an animal pelt over her shoulder and chewing on a raw strip of meat with the blood dripping off her chin and running down her full breasts.
