"Halt, evil dragon! The time for your demise has come!" Calarel shouted dramatically as she finally reached the top. The Castle of the Skies was a beastly dungeon, a two hundred story tall tower that ascended into the clouds. It took days. The muscular elf lady-prince would camp in the stairs, giving herself short rests until she'd continue her climb. The stairs were littered with monsters and traps, but it didn't stop her.
Calarel's team, obviously, tried to talk her out of it. "There's no way you can climb that whole tower!" "I'm sorry, but as your team leader, I forbid it." "Do you want to die of exhaustion and a dragon's bite? This is how you die of exhaustion and a dragon's bite." None of their protests stopped her. The people of her town were exhausted, hungry, and penniless.
And the culprit of this was Larsyn. The blue dragon that Calarel swore to slay. Calarel proved her team wrong -- she scaled the entire tower and found her way to the lair.
As expected, it was filled with treasures, jewelry, and more gold than Calarel knew existed. Her first instinct was to draw her sword. But... she didn't see any dragon. For a while, Calarel didn't see anyone. Was Larsyn terrorizing the town once again? Calarel felt the urge to draw back, but not after getting the gold back to redistribute. She tore open an empty sack and began filling it as if she were filling a bucket with water.
This seemed too easy. Calarel's thoughts were torn through as a voice emerged.
"You seem like you're in a rush." It was a lady's voice, shocking Calarel and making her twist and turn around. She tried to find the source of the voice, and her eyes landed on a... woman. On top of a tall throne at the end of the room.
Her light brown hair was done in elegant curls, reaching the bottom of her sizable breasts. The lady donned a royal-looking outfit -- soft and delicate, with deep purple and blue hues. Her heels would have easily added an extra 3 or 4 inches were she standing. She looked... elegant. Calarel began to realize what was happening - Larsyn kidnapped a princess as a hostage. But now Calarel could free her!
"It isn't safe here," Calarel tied a bag and offered her hand. "We must leave this place before Larsyn returns, maiden!"
She smiled. Even her smile looked delicate, with a hint of... deviation. "Don't worry, I don't need to leave. Neither do you. I'm perfectly happy and content here."
"Miss," Calarel gritted her teeth. "Larsyn knows no bounds. Were you to disobey her, she would surely make you her meal! We must flee, I beg of you!"
She laughed again.
"Why would Larsyn want to eat me," she started, "when I am Larsyn herself?"
Calarel's eyes widened. "You... that's impossible, maiden! Larsyn is a fearsome blue dragon known for viciousness. Surely you can't..."
"Sure I can."
She lady shifted a bit, motioning to her shadow. Calarel's eyes casted towards it. Sure enough, the lady's shadow shifted into something all too familiar. Calarel's enemy, the dragon, shaded onto the walls. Her eyes widened in disbelief. So this lady was...
"You are..."
"A shapeshifter, correct," Larsyn smiled. "Please don't be alarmed, though. I won't kill you for treading into my lair. I do ask that you put the bag of gold where you found it, though."
"You f-fiend!" Calarel shouted. "The people of my kingdom are starving and poor! And you horde all this wealth to yourself? Why?"
Larsyn shrugged. "Why not? Because I can. Because people fear me. And because no one can stop me."
“And… and why do you tell me this?” Calarel’s hand shifted towards her sword. The hairs of her fingers lightly grazed the handle.
Larsyn shrugged, ready to sit back on her throne and be done with this silly encounter. “Boredom, mainly,” she started. “And also, there’s no way you’re leaving this castle. Not that you’ve seen everything. Not with how adorable I think you are.” The edges of her lips curled, indicating there was something more to that note than simple teasing.
"I-I’m done with this foolish conversation," Calarel gritted her teeth as she blushed. "Enough talk. Let us battle!"
Calarel charged at Larsyn with her sword, readying a strike against the dragon’s chest. For a moment, she thought Larsyn was in her clutches, ready for her demise. But at the last second, Larsyn seamlessly stepped out of the way. Calarel gasped. Somehow, she didn’t anticipate that. She should have known it wouldn’t have been that easy.
The elf prince swung around and aimed another strike. Once again, it was dodged. Larsyn managed a hold of Calarel and swung her into a pile of gold. That hurt much more than Calarel thought it would. Regardless, Calarel stood back up and tried to grasp onto Larsyn. The shapeshifter moved quickly. Quicker than Calarel, the highly trained warrier. Why was this such a difficult fight? It wasn’t even like Larsyn was in her dragon form! Calarel felt ashamed that this fight was so difficult.
“I’m done with this!” Calarel shouted, readying her sword one more time. She struck–
Or at least, she thought she did for a moment. Calarel blanked out momentarily. When she came to seconds later, her sword was blade down into a treasure hill. 
And more importantly, Larsyn held Calarel in a tight grip.
Larsyn’s grip on Calarel’s hair nearly made her shriek. Calarel tried to get loose. Of course she didn’t care if her hair was ripped off – that didn’t matter. But the way Larsyn’s other hand stroked down Calarel’s chest, down her torso. Before Calarel could realize what was happening, she felt her body fall immobile in Larsyn’s hands.
Calarel began panicking. “W-what magic are you using?”
“Magic? Please. This is no magic. This is just me giving a touch starved prince some much needed TLC,” Larsyn’s breath graced Calarel’s sharp ears. “You know, I’ve been quite lonely up here in this tower… I’ve been craving something no gold can buy. A companion. Or, rather…”
Larsyn’s lips curled.
“A plaything.”
The blood in Calarel’s face drained down her chest. “Y-you’re jesting,” she hissed. “There’s no way I would ever serve as your thrall!” Despite her words, though, Calarel couldn’t deny she was melting in Larsyn’s grip. She hadn’t been touched in so long, not since her breakup with one of her teammates. And her grip was so tempting… Calarel shook her head, trying to get such thoughts out of her head.
“Really?” Larsyn released Calarel’s hair, and Calarel was ashamed by the fact she didn’t want to resist. Especially when Larsyn pulled something from her own neck – and held it in front of Calarel’s eyes.
The pendant.
“Why would you want to deny my generous offer?” Larsyn spoke in a soft, droned out voice. “You’re thinking too much, Calarel… you don’t have to struggle as you do. You’re wracking your poor little brain thinking how to get out of here, the few reasons you shouldn’t want to serve as mine.”
        “I… no!” Calarel shut her eyes and made a futile attempt to struggle free. “I’ll never serve you! Not on my grave!”
        Larsyn chuckled, only holding the pendant a bit higher. Calarel couldn’t rip her eyes away. Her eyelids strained to stay focused on the bright, shining ruby. It was so… enticing. The light of the gold reflected onto the edges and the light transmitted in a multitude of directions. Calarel inhaled, holding her breath as she kept trying, trying her hardest, to break free.
        “Why do you try to resist, plaything?” Larsyn whispered. Calarel felt a shiver down her spine at the degrading word. “Let’s say you do best me. What then? You bring all this gold back to your people, and they become rich and spoiled and selfish… even your teammates would abandon you for the pursuit of more riches. I’m not evil, Calarel, for hoarding all this gold. I’m simply protecting the people. And you are absolutely worth protecting – keeping in my lair – as well.”
        “N…no…” Calarel couldn’t keep her eyes shut for more than a couple of seconds. Every word felt more true and sincere than the last. Deep down, Calarel knew Larsyn was lying and exaggerating. There was no way that would happen to her people. And yet… if it did… what would that mean? Would that mean Calarel would only destroy her kingdom further? Maybe Larsyn had a point, and she deserved to stay put with the rest of the treasure. Her eyelids drooped, her jaw falling slack.
        “See? You’re understanding now. This is how things should be. The way you stare further and deeper into my pendant, and the deeper you fall the more you stare. You don’t need to think, Calarel. You can just be my hunk of dumb muscle. My plaything. There to do my bidding… you know in your heart that sounds much better than whatever you had planned. Doesn’t it?”
        Calarel knew she was wrong, but before she knew it, her head nodded for her. “You’re learning. Great. And it’s so easy. All you need to do is turn your mind off. Let all those pesky thoughts drift away into the abyss, leaving only servitude. I have so many better plans for you. Imagine how much more useful and powerful you’d feel at my side. Those people don’t need your help. But me, Calarel… I need you. And you want to help people in need. Don’t you?”
        Lightly, imperceptible, Calarel shook her head. It didn’t go unnoticed.  Larsyn’s other hand shot out and grabbed Calarel’s chin, holding it still in place. Larsyn’s elbow firmly kept Calarel in place, against her new captor’s chest. And her entire face was stuck on the pendulum. Getting more and more hypnotized… falling deeper… letting all her thoughts go.
        Soon, thinking became hard. All she could do was stare. Who wanted to think anyways? Or even fight? All she had to do was serve Larsyn’s demands and fulfill her wishes. That made much more sense than some abstract sense of justice.
        Larsyn smirked. Calarel could feel it against her skin.
        “Now you understand completely. So when I drop this pendant, all your thoughts are just going to go pop. One by one. It might hurt your head a little, but I promise whatever is there will be much more helpful. Nod if you get it.”
        Calarel nodded. She couldn’t resist anymore. She didn’t want to think. Who could blame her? After how hard she tried, she lost to Larsyn. There was no way she wanted to report that to her townspeople. There was no way she wanted to report that to herself.
        “One, two, three…”
        The pendant dropped.
        “Pop.”
        It worked. One by one, Calarel’s brain cells self-destructed. Distantly, Calarel felt agonized. But she barely noticed or cared. As soon as Larsyn let go of her, Calarel collapsed onto the ground, waiting out the effects of the suggestion.
        Calarel wanted to hang onto whatever of her thoughts remained. But as she tried to grasp them, they faded through her fingers like dust. Slowly but surely, the formerly bright and strong prince grew ditzier and dumber. Her speech became littered with giggled and 'likes' and 'ums'.
No. Calarel held her head and tried to fight it. She... she couldn't subscribe to this fiend's wishes! But no matter how much she resisted, her mind and body worked for her. Eventually, her resistance stopped, and she was left with her head as an empty husk.
Calarel readjusted, looking at her captor with wide, pleading eyes. This was... Larsyn. The shapeshifter human-dragon who had conquered her. Calarel was left without any objections. She giggled again at the thought. "Um... so I guess you're like, my new owner, right?"
"That's right, dearie," Larsyn leaned down and nuzzled Calarel's flushed cheeks. "I'm your new owner. And I have many, many plans for you."
"Like... like what?" Even that sentence came difficult to Calarel's feeble mind.
"Well, first of all, I'm going to have you strip," Larsyn snapped. "Everything off except your lingerie. That will come later," she added with a smirk.
Calarel stood up and nodded. One by one, her garments came off, falling dramatically onto the treasure piles. Her knight's armor, her princely clothes, even the garments her teammate Sarin had so lovingly sewn her. Calarel stood naked, the only covers being her tight bra and a pair of soaked panties.
Larsyn walked around Calarel, examining her property. She groped and slapped Calarel's lewd body as she pleased. All this only to elicit further moans and gasps from her airheaded, ditzy sex thrall. The woman who was once known as a strong, intelligent warrior knight who carefully planned all her expeditions... she was now a total bimbo. There was none of the powerful, smart Calarel left. She was a slutty ditz who only cared about her owner's pleasure.
With one final smack of Calarel's left asscheek, Larsyn spoke again. "I have something for you that you may find fitting." Larsyn tapped a finger to her chin, looking for... something... until she found it. "Here we go. I stole this from a town next to you. It used to be for a prized dog, which I suppose you compare to, now."
Larsyn reached down, and pulled out a diamond-studded steel collar with a leather leash attached to it.
"Stay still."
Calarel obeyed. She felt the metal snap against her. That feeling of ownership that Larsyn had over her... even the thought made her so fucking hot. "There," Larsyn smiled. "Now you can't run away even if you want to. Follow me." Larsyn tugged the leash and led Calarel to the back of the room, back to the throne Larsyn sat regally on. Before taking her seat again, Larsyn stripped herself. All of her garments came off, her perky breasts in the open with her cock springing out of her panties.
Larsyn looked down at Calarel's dim face and chuckled. “I wonder how muhc of this you can truly handle," she mused, stroking her solid dick gently and holding it in front of Calarel's drooling mouth.
"Like, as much as you want!" Calarel giggled. "It's soooo big and thick, after all..."
"I thought you may like her." Larsyn stopped the line of conversation abruptly, pulling at Calarel's long, blond hair toughly. "You're going to worship me. And you're going to do it right. Are we clear?"
"Like, yeah! But, um, where do you want me to..."
"All over," Larsyn smirked. "Get to it."
Calarel obeyed, again. She started by standing up, leaning over, and kissing and sucking at her neck and shoulders. Larsyn grinned, exhaling as she leaned into the feeling. This was the life. They were both thinking it. Calarel had to wonder why she spent so much time fighting, trying, having other people rely on her. All this time, she could have just gone to Larsyn's lair and kindly asked her to make Calarel her pet. But they were still young, and they had hundreds of years ahead of them in life. They could make every single second worth it. Calarel couldn't wait.
She moved down to Larsyn's chest. Larsyn's hand shot out and smothered Calarel's face with her tits. "Oh, you and I are going to have so much fun. You're good at body worship, but I'm going to make you a master at it. I'll spend the rest of our lives molding you into my perfect plaything. Aren't you excited?"
Calarel answered with a muffled yes. She couldn’t think of any better use of her days.
        “I’m excited, too,” Larsyn grinned. “And you’re so powerful too. You’ll make a fantastic sidekick for my little trips to town.” 
Roughly, Larsyn guided Calarel’s head down her midsection and then to her crotch. Calarel’s lips left a line of saliva as they slid down her body. Calarel lifted, staring at Larsyn’s cock as if it were hypnotic itself. Calarel giggled. She couldn’t wait to pleasure it. It was so hard and thick… she had to wonder if she could even actually take it, even…
“Suck,” Larsyn tersely ordered. Calarel obeyed – even more happily, this time. At first, getting her shaft into Calarel’s mouth was quite a struggle – her throat just wasn’t big enough. But Calarel was determined. She was a ditzy, slutty bimbo, and what good was a ditzy, slutty bimbo who couldn’t properly suck dick? Calarel’s head slid further onto it, her throat adjusting to the girth.
Eventually, Calarel managed to take all of it, and gently bobbed her head back and forth. Larsyn didn’t want gentle. She slapped Calarel’s cheek, ordered her to go faster, deeper, to focus only on sucking her off. Calarel took the shaft deeper than she thought she could, reaching the base of her cock. Larsyn twitched needily in her mouth, dripping a bit of precum onto her tongue. Her cum tasted salty and bitter, with a hint of sweetness to it. At first, Calarel wanted to pull back from the taste, but she slowly adjusted.
After all, Larsyn was her owner now. Why would she go against her owner’s wishes?
Just as Larsyn was on the verge of climax, she decided to edge herself. Calarel was impressed by her owner’s willpower. Only someone strong and powerful would have the willpower to deny herself an orgasm, even for a moment! Calarel looked confusedly at Larsyn, still mostly focusing on her dick.
Calarel’s brain cells fought to form a coherent thought – Larsyn probably wanted the same thing she did.
“Get on my lap,” Larsyn ordered. “Take me in you.”
“Like, of course!” Calarel giggled degradingly. She stood up and began sitting on Larsyn’s lap. Larsyn stopped her and aimed her cock into Calarel’s dripping, hot pussy. The tip reached its folds as Larsyn forced Calarel’s body down it, her tight walls gripping it for dear life. Calarel let out a loud, indecent moan and threw her head back.
Larsyn began bucking her hips into Calarel. Calarel’s weight only served to bring her cock further into her. Fluids dripped between the two of them, coating both of their legs. Sweat poured down their bodies as both of them ached for more. Calarel held her hands steady on the arms of the chair and thrusted harder. Impressing even Larsyn, she looked up hungrily at Calarel. The shapeshifter could feel Calarel getting close. Calarel could obviously feel it, too.
“So here’s how this is going to work,” Larsyn hissed. “I’m going to let you cum on me, and once you do, all your precious willpower is going to twist. You’re not going to want to fight for anything other than me. You’ll do whatever I want, no matter whether or not you want it too. Do you accept that?”
“I…um…” Suddenly, Calarel felt conflicted. It hurt her poor brain to think on Larsyn’s offer too much.
“Again,” Larsyn scowled. “You want to cum, don’t you? And you’ll never get to cum again unless you accept my offer. So what is it, pet?”
“C…c…cum!” Calarel begged. “I’ll – I’ll do anything, miss!”
Larsyn pulled down Calarel’s shoulders and kissed her lips firmly. The makeout session was hot, furious, ravenous. She claimed Calarel, and every part of her body. Calarel’s muscles, her intellect, her wit… all of that meant nothing now. She belonged to Larsyn now. And she was going to serve her forever.
Larsyn pulled back, looking intently at Calarel’s eyes.
“Cum.”
Calarel obeyed, again.
She could swear she blanked out from how powerful her orgasm was. Stars littered her vision as she thought about the many ways Larsyn could make use of her body. If the rest of her life meant getting her owner off, and occasionally getting pleasure herself… fuck, the musing made her cum even harder.
Larsyn came moments after Calarel, shooting a stream of semen into her pussy. Larsyn crammed as much of her load into Calarel’s cunt as she could, but eventually the rest of it didn’t fit and streamed down Calarel’s legs. Larsyn’s dick twitched in Calarel, only making both of their orgasms harder.
And then they stopped.
Larsyn gently lifted Calarel off of her now-limp dick, both of them panting and gasping for air. Calarel kneeled at Larsyn’s body, as the powerful lady towered over her in her throne.
“Very good. Seems I have myself the best treasure of all,” Larsyn scooped a bit of her own cum with her fingers and shoved it in Calarel’s slack mouth. “A good, obedient breeding slut.”
Calarel giggled again. “That’s, like, so good, miss.”
Everything was good. Calarel was happy now.