Author's Note

The handwriting has grown more sloppy. There are ink smudges here and there. At least one of the entries has a word drawn over several times, nearly ripping through the page with how many times the author traced it over and over again. The dog ears mark pages of interest, but even the rest is not up to the previous standards of neatness.

November

Saturday, November 12th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Everything about today was a mistake. I wish I could take it all back. I wanted to test the limits of the spell. We’d been in a rhythm for the past month. Spike hasn’t asked for help ejaculating off schedule since I applied the spell. I had assumed this was due to the spell’s effect. I now believe it was due to his ~~guilt~~ concern.

I actually canceled all my appointments for today, I hadn’t been able to get a day to ~~us~~ myself. I wore a bathrobe to breakfast, and nothing else, ensuring to tie the rope around the waist tightly. That rope was to be my pants. The rope wasn’t coming off.

I know how bad this looks in hindsight. Looking back on it, it wasn’t a very well thought out plan. I felt safer than I should have. The spell has been working, what did I have to actually risk? And he’d been such a good ~~bo~~ assistant. He deserved a treat.

When he saw the bathrobe, he actually groaned and put his claw over his face. He actually asked why I was doing this to him. I told him that I wanted to test the spell, to ensure it worked appropriately.

He told me that I really didn’t.

I ignored him and asked what he wanted for breakfast. We had pancakes. As expected, he watched me the whole time. I could see the now very familiar agitation in his body language.

The way his shoulder’s tensed, the way his breath went deep, how his nostrils flare as he breathes in more of me. Not to mention his change in demeanor. Spike gets just a little mean when he’s aroused. He’s still obedient, but he’s far more testy and argumentative. He’s also far more direct.

After breakfast, I had a very long backlog of books to catch up on, as is usual for my fleeting free time. I’d intentionally skipped the paperwork, the last couple times ~~I tried this~~ we had an off day, I wasn’t in the mindset to effectively sign legally binding documents.

I wasn’t surprised when he sat next to me while I read. I wasn’t surprised when he reached his arm over my shoulder, though I did stop reading. I was just holding the book in front of my face, not even pretending to look at the words as he slipped his claw around my shoulder, and then down the slit in the bathrobe by my chest.

He grumbled then, complaining that he felt tight. I asked if he had an erection tucked away in there. He said he didn’t.

I asked if I could check. what the hell was I think

The book ended up closed on the reading table, and I ended up ~~huggi~~ ~~grop~~ ~~mole~~ checking Spike. I took off his pants, and had him put a leg over mine so I could reach easier. He listened to me so easily. ~~He was desperate for anything I would give him.~~

He was practically burning under his scales. And he’d told the truth. He was limp inside there. My hand on his scaled slit felt oddly warm. I was curious if I could still stimulate him, so I tried from inside.

He made noises.

Noises.

I had him shift more to my lap so I could have easier access. His claws were wrapped gently around my arms, so he didn’t hurt me with them. He is heavy, but I’m tougher than I look.

~~It looked worse than it~~ The imagery was definitely pornographic. I was behind his ears, and I whispered some things to him.

I may have encouraged him further. We should have stopped there, but there were one hundred times we should have stopped before. So why would today be any different? It wasn’t.

We were both surprised when I pulled his dick out. It was soft, but I could feel it hardening. We both watched it silently. I encouraged him.

I called him a good boy again, right into his ear. I was so damned pleased with myself. So chock full of satisfaction that I’d pushed him out, through the spell. His dick was mine.

He started thrusting into my hand and whimpering like some puppy dry humping a leg. It wasn’t too different. I wasn’t thinking about measurements or science, or even his problem. I was riding the high of what was happening.

It makes me sick now. He’s my little Spikey. I used to bottle feed him. In the moment, though? I felt like a goddess. This big, powerful dragon was desperately humping my hand. I need to get over this. I need to accept this if I am going to document it properly.

The act was highly sexual. For both of us. And we admitted it. We’d been feeling this for a while now, but we said it.

I told him that I loved him. That he’d been good, and that I wanted him to be happy. I told him that he was a very attractive young dragon. That he was sexy. ~~That I had masturbated to him.~~

That I had masturbated to him.

He told me that he had masturbated to me as well. Just not recently.

Saying it to him, hearing it from him, writing it plainly here—it’s freeing in a way. I know it’s taboo, but I don’t care.

I couldn’t get him to finish, but it didn’t matter. We’d had our moment of intimacy. Intellectually, emotionally, if only for a moment we’d become one. And the sensation seemed to linger.

His cock wouldn’t go back in. It just hung awkwardly out, fully erect. He said it didn’t hurt. It just had a dull ache, but if I kept rubbing it that it might chafe. We took a break, and he slid off my lap and into the couch next to me.

He asked if he could remove the rope.

I said no.

He kneeled in front of me, and put his claws on my legs. I put my hands on his head.

We didn’t remove the rope from the bathrobe, but it was tied around my abdomen anyways. The rope didn’t matter. All he had to do was pull the fabric, and the bathrobe split where he wanted it to.

We crossed a new line again.

I’d never felt anything like that before. His tongue is long.

~~I’m terrible.~~

He’s a very devoted assistant.

He didn’t stop until I passed out. I can’t really describe how it went. I hardly remember, to be honest. I just sort of lost the ability to think for a while, and then the world faded out. When the world faded back in, I was lying on the couch gasping for breath. He was crouched over me on all fours like some animal, his still erect penis hanging lewdly down between us.

He’d moved the rope to my hands. I could have broken free, I’m easily strong enough. I didn’t, though. As he lowered down to cover me, I felt his naked scales against my body. He was so warm. I should have fought him. I should have resisted him somehow.

In the back of my mind I was ecstatic. There was a sick and heady satisfaction that I’d been playing with fire, and now I was going to get burned. A part of me was just gleefully screaming “I told you so!” to the rest of me, like some gloating asshole who correctly predicted a disaster.

I deserved what happened. I relished it. ~~I wanted it.~~

I’m so sorry. When he put his face to mine and blew heated breath across it, that was it. He felt like a raging fire. I completely lost what little control was left. I was still recovering from the disoriented state he’d left me in, and his claws held my hands together, and he was strong, and his weight was pinning me to the couch, and I was sloppy wet, and everything was so hot, and I was so dizzy, and I could ha’,.=####=.\____-__

I told him that he wouldn’t. He growled at me in response and actually snarled, teeth and all.

He did.

It’s not over. He didn’t finish. ~~As long as I don’t~~. The spell is holding. ~~I don’t know how long we~~ After an hour, I think, I begged him for a break. I promised him I’d do anything. He gave me half an hour. He’s sitting on the couch with my bathrobe balled up in his fist watching me write this update. I keep glancing at his eyes, staring at them. We’re both unabashed. ~~I told him that~~ When I’m done, the rope comes all the way off.

It’s still wrapped around one of my wrists, like a string around my finger reminding me of something.

I know it doesn’t mean anything anymore. But somehow, when I take it off, that’s it. I mean, it’s already gone way too far. But that’s

really

it.

Entry 2:
Collecti wa unsuccesful tod.ra

Entry 3:

It’s dark. He’s in my bed, finally asleep.

He looks so peaceful now. It reminds me of when he was little, and he was scared of the dark. He’d crawl into my bed and I’d wrap him in the warmest, comfiest hug I could. He’d be soothed, and fall asleep while I watched him.

I suppose this wasn’t much different, was it?

I’m numb. I can’t think.

Sunday, November 13th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 96 ml, on schedule.

Monday, November 14th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 98 ml, on schedule.

Tuesday, November 15th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 97 ml, on schedule.

Wednesday, November 16th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 99 ml, on schedule.

Entry 2:
I need to record the event properly. I wasn’t in any state to make a proper record. I’m still not. Reviewing my journal, it looks like any meaningful records stopped after the morning break.

I’m going to start with the easy things. I didn’t finish any books. I need a new bathrobe. We had to buy new couch cushions on Sunday. We did not eat lunch, but had a light snack for dinner. We missed the scheduled extraction time. I’m oddly very upset over this even though it’s probably the most inconsequential. We hadn’t missed a day until that day. This is a ruined perfect record. It’s almost as frustrating as the ruined perfect record of not fucking your son.

Now that that’s out of the way, on to the hard things.

~~I fucked Spike.~~ We had sex.

I know it was easy enough to gather from what I had managed to write down, but I wasn’t in the state of mind to properly document anything. I’m not going to strike that entry out, but be aware that I was not empirically recording data. I’m honestly probably still not, but if I wait too long it will be hard to remember the details.

~~And I don’t want to do it again just to take notes.~~

After the morning break, he asked me to take off the rope as a show of dominance, since he knew I had emphatically refused up until this point, even if it hadn’t really done anything to stop him from penetrating me earlier. I complied. I’m not entirely sure why, but I had promised him that I’d be ~~obedi~~ ~~a good~~ compliant if he allowed me a break, and he did. So I was.

The look on his face when I slipped it off and let it fall to the ground was intimidating; almost sneering. ~~He didn’t look anything like my little Spi~~ It was distrssingly erotic.

Then, he had me sit in his lap while he sat on the couch. We had penetrative intercourse in this manner for some time, and I was made to do the work while he watched my breasts and body. This was almost certainly another show of dominance. ~~In that position, his bulbous tip~~ We kissed. ~~I practically choked on his tongue, and~~ . The kissing was aggressive.

Once I was too exhausted to continue, he let me lie down on the couch again. While I rested, he brought us water and a salve. I drank, copiously, and he used his claws to give me something of a massage across my back with the salve.

This was highly pleasurable, and while intimate it was surprisingly not erotic. His capability as a masseuse is not to be underestimated. As I’ve previously noted, he’s quite strong.

We talked during this time. I told him that we couldn’t go back, and that this was absolutely cheating on Gabby and not anything like a medical procedure. He said he already knew that and he didn’t care anymore. I told him that this was both highly inappropriate and taboo, and we couldn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. He told me that I’d broken him.

He told me how it felt. A month of being unable to cum, to even get properly aroused, except by my hands. Eight months of feeling my hands all over his dick. Hundreds of days. Liters of his semen drained by me. What was a few ml more at this point? I broke

I told him that he hadn’t ejaculated yet, that while this was wrong, it wasn’t actually sex. The spell was holding.I knew it was. I wasn’t

He said that it had been sex, and he was going to finish all over me.

I told him the spell would hold. It had so far.

He flipped me over somewhat roughly then, forcing me on my back. I didn’t resist. I didn’t even comlain. I just watched and experienced it while he crawled over me, and straddled my legs, placing his engorged dick on my abdomen. ~~I think I was smiling? Was I challenging him? I know it was my fault. It was all my fault.~~

I looked at it, fascinated by the bulbous tip, somewhat horrified and intrigued that it had fit so neatly inside of me. The soft-spikes were erect, making it look dangerous. That thing had filled me completely, exactly to my limit with the bulb planting inside and massaging me while he thrust. ~~I’d never been so satisfi~~I remembered the tingle when it slipped through my previously virgin lower lips, and I could feel my arousal flaring into an impossible need as I stared at it. All the while, I supported his weight on me.

It should have been around noon. He wasn’t done with me. ~~and I wasn’t done with him.~~

The realization that at best we were half way through the day made me whimper. At worst, we were a quarter of the way through.

When I whimpered he put his claws on my forehead, gripping me possessively. He told me that he was going to cum.

I whispered that the spell would hold. My voice trembled, and I stuttered.

His cruel response shattered the little part of me that was in denial. “Not when you break it.”

Of course. It certainly wouldn’t hold when I dispelled it. But that would invalidate the experiment of seeing the spell’s limits. At the same time, I wasn’t going to let that stop me. Something in me shivered, and I ~~was~~his knew I’d do it.

I told him I wouldn’t. I lied to him. He knew it was a lie. I knew it was a lie.

He told me I would.

I tried to resist. I really did. But when he slipped his claws around my head and slid them behind, he tilted my head upwards. Then he slid his dick forward.

I opened my mouth of my own accord. He didn’t have to say anything. ~~I really wasn’t being forced to do anyt~~I could smell him, and it was overpowering. I tasted myself on his dick before I tasted him.

The bulbous tip had a strange texture, and he pressed it back. Not far enough to choke me, but enough that I closed my lips around his dick and wrapped my tongue around the tip like a lollipop. He kept me there, gently rocking his tip back and forth as he slid across my chest.

I felt humiliated somehow. Degraded. It made my ears turn red and hot, and my legs quiver. I wanted more. This was just a taste. I was needful. I couldn’t take it. Minutes, hours, I don’t know. He just stared at me, eyeing me hungrily while rubbing his dick into my mouth. What broke me is when I thought I tasted cinnamon.

I realized that this was hurting him. He was trapped by this strange desire as much as me, and I was just delaying the inevitable. I knew it was going to happen so why was I fighting it?

I told him he won. ~~I was crying, but not because I was sad. It just felt so good to sa~~

He pulled his dick out of my sore mouth, and slid backwards. It looked unharmed, but I saw a speckle of white on the tip. ~~Had the spel~~l

He told me to do it.

I did it.

I watched, enthralled, as Spike’s ejaculation was immediate. He came all over my naked body, shivering and moaning with no build up. It was so sudden, so violent, so complete. It was far, far more than I’d seen him cum before. If I had to guess, it was over 200 ml that splashed over me in bursting spasms, but I don’t trust my observations in that moment. The warmth spread across my chest, up my chin, over my face, and even in my hair. It ran thickly down my sides, pooling on the couch.

The cum tingled. It felt like cinnamon tastes. My chest, my belly, and my face were coated in it. The smell was drowning me. I opened my mouth and tasted some. Salty cinnamon flooded my senses while he moaned in relief.

It was too much. Spike almost roared as the last few spurts splattered in my hair. He then took his claws and rubbed the thick cum into my fur. He massaged my breasts, my belly, my shoulders, everything he could reach while I stared numbly upwards. He painted me white.

I felt drained of emotion. He was elated; almost crying that it hadn’t hurt me and that he’d finally gotten his release.

The thought should have shaken me from my stupor, but it didn’t. I just watched as he used his claws to finger paint on me. His eyes drifted past me, and settled on the couch. His cum was burning holes in the cushion.

He laughed. I’m sure the euphoria of seeing me unharmed and finally getting his relief was overwhelming him. I smiled weakly and told him that I was, in fact immune, so he could stop worrying.

We kissed again. It was nice. It was loving.

He lay on me and wrapped his arms around me. I hugged him back, loving him as only I could while he took me again on the couch. The cushions melted underneath us. I held him. I comforted him. I coddled him until he found release again, the relief he needed. This time his comfort was found inside of me. ~~I’m in lov~~ ~~It was unlike anything I’ve experience.~~

~~My fur was disgusting, matted in his cum and my sweat but we didn’t care. Everything tingled, and blurred together and I lost count of the times and places and ways he took me. There’s still a few scorch marks on the floor, scattered across the house.~~

~~I now know why dragons live in caves.~~

~~We completely missed collection time, instead retreating to my bed. The semen tingled pleasantly, and I was in some sort of fugue state of physical euphoria. We kissed. We laughed. We touched each other and we had each other.~~

~~We broke every rule that day. We ruined the experiment. We ruined each other. And I’d do it again at the drop of a hat.~~~~I need to do it agai~~

But I have to fix something. It’s been a few days, and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. He was bad. I know he was hurt and desperate, and that I did it to him, but Spike needs more control. I’ll teach him that. We both need more control. And he needs to remember that I’m not his.

Ḥ̶̓͗̄Ē̴̫̋͊'̸̜̮́͜S̵̯̘̰̑̅̈́ ̵̞̊M̷͔̦͙̒̉̌İ̵͛̍͜Ǹ̴̨̪E̷̗͕̔̀̓

Thursday, November 17th, 15NMR:
Entry 1:
Collection went well. 102 ml, on schedule. Further collections will be with the 150 ml containers I have prepared. I am going to need a larger storage area.

I’m investigating the specific spell structure of his sperm, but progress is slow. ~~I don’t want to neutralize it.~~ For now, I will focus on the conditioning. He needs to learn how to properly control himself.

I have explicitly told him to control himself when he attempted to grope me today. He seemed angry, but he agreed. ~~We have not~~ There have been no further significant mishaps. I have purchased a new robe. This one does not open in the front.