[b][u][center]The Intelligent Thief
for dracoilmkt
by Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








Academia Draconis was not the largest academy in Docetri, but it was large enough to get lost in if Dracoil wasn't careful. The various domiciles for the students - two stories tall and capable of housing eight people each - were littered in a haphazard spiral that ran out from the middle of the academy. Some were a simple gray, others were colored with various shades of paint, but the most irritating part was that the spiral [i]wobbled.[/i] Following the path to the center was more difficult than it should be when he kept having to change course and dart out from his hiding places to make it to a structure that wasn't where it was supposed to be. 

Still, so far, the black-green dragon had managed to avoid most of the security that the academy had. He'd slipped over the wall, avoided the gargoyles and golems that kept an eye on the perimeter, and had - so far - avoided the various traps that were supposed to trigger by anyone that had gone unmarked by the perimeter guard. It was something of a testament to his skills that nothing had happened to him. 

Despite that, he'd kept to the shadows, avoiding being seen by the students and teachers. He might be able to bluff his way through any encounter, but the fact was, that was an awfully big 'might.' Better not to risk things and just keep moving. 

As he delved deeper and deeper into the spiral of housing, following the grassy paths, he wondered if this was all going to be worth it. The paycheck for this break-in was supposed to be good - the client was offering something in the five figures for this little 'retrieval' - but the risk was...high, to say the least. Dracoil started to take another step and froze, slowly moving his boot out of the way to look at the patch of grass in front of him. 

There was nothing out of the ordinary about it compared to the stretch of longer grass on either side of the pathway, but there was something about it that felt...wrong, and Dracoil had learned a long time ago to listen to those instincts. 

Instead of taking that step, he walked around it and leaned down to trace his fingers around the edge of the plot of grass. No sooner had his scales touched the edge of the little plot than the blades of grass lunged for his digits, trying and failing to grab them. 

[i]Another trap,[/i] he thought, pulling his hand back and leaving it behind. [i]He's not a trusting one, this Draconicon...[/i]

Then again, considering the sheer level of espionage between magic schools in Docetri, he couldn't entirely blame the dean. A school rose and fell by the proprietary spells that they had that their rivals didn't; having one stolen could sink an entire school in the space of a week. Getting one could save one from bankruptcy. 

But considering that his employer had sent him to steal something more than a book or a scroll, he had a feeling that this job was meant to do more than just 'sink' the Academia Draconis. This was meant to send a message. 

[i]All the more reason not to get caught...[/i]

The neon lights outside the academy walls started to glow as the sun began to sun. He ignored it, following the spiraling path to the end. A smaller building, only one story but several times longer than the housing units that the students had, stood beside a small pond. The front door was marked with a pair of draconic runes that he wasn't able to read, but it didn't matter; they weren't filled with any magic that might have stopped him. 

Dracoil walked up to the front door and rapped his knuckles against it. When there was no response, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small metal rod. Not a lockpick, that, but rather a ward-breaker. It functioned more like a dagger than a lockpick; rather than trying to open a lock or convince a stubborn blockage to get out of the wall, all he had to do was 'stab' it into the keyhole and - 

Ca-click. 

Snickt. 

The door was unlocked [i]and[/i] the warding spell was broken at the same time. He pulled the tool free, watching it dissipate into dust with a shake of his head. That was the last of those; he'd have to pick up some more with the proceeds of this mission. Supposed it stood to reason that the warding spell would bite back in a place like this. 

The dragon stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The office in front of him was smaller than he expected, but still rich with the feel of magic. Not dissimilar to a pending electrical discharge, the air hummed, almost tingled around him. Dracoil carefully locked the door behind him, shaking his head as he took stock of everything. 

Draconicon's office was small. Not small enough to feel cramped, but small enough that there were only four pieces of furniture: one chair on either side of a desk and a filing cabinet. No grand closets, no obvious panels in the floor where a secret cabinet might be waiting, just those four little pieces that dominated the wood-paneled room. Despite that, the air was thick with magic, and he didn't have to see the traps to know that there were dozens of them between him and the desk. 

[i]And knowing how this dragon works, my goal is in that desk...[/i]

Dracoil took a deep breath and slowly let it out. He had a spell of disenchantment from his employer, but he was saving that for a last-moment save if he needed it. He'd already burned through the last of his picks; he needed to be smart about getting across the room. 

Closing his eyes, he visualized himself. Black body, green core, white tear-lines along his face and white stripes in a few other places. Most of that covered by a basic disguise that was little more than a t-shirt and pair of jeans, with a pair of boots to cover his feet. He stood at one end of the office, the desk and chairs stood on the other, and there was ten feet of distance between them. With the office itself being about ten feet wide, that meant that there were endless possibilities of trap-spells between him and the desk.

At the same time, that also meant that there had to be gaps. Spells did not like to share space with each other; too many on top of one another created snarls as the magic tangled with each other, both spells trying to assert dominance and degrading each other. Any mage worth their salt would stagger them, setting them up in a more limited fashion to make sure that none of them degraded too quickly. He was sure that Draconicon was no exception. So, all he had to do was find the edge of one spell and work from there. 

He squatted down, reaching out with one gloved hand. Tracing a line along the floor, he took his time, keeping it slow despite the building urgency at the back of his mind. Just because Draconicon wasn't in the office now doesn't mean that he wouldn't be back soon. Best to get this done and get out before the black dragon returned and - 

The experienced thief shut that thought down before it could go any further. There was nothing that hurrying would get him that methodical action wouldn't do better. He'd take his time and make his way across properly. 

Half a minute later, he found the edge of a spell. The leather of his gloves rose slightly, the strands that held them together and the little hairs that one picked up around other, mammalian anthros standing up in response to the magic. Nodding to himself, he wiggled his finger slowly from side to side, measuring where the magic pulled and where it didn't. Once he had the outline of the spell in front of him - approximately two feet wide and rather jagged where it lay - he dragged his finger up and along the side. 

It took him another minute to find its boundary with another spell. There, the magic of the different spells pulled at his finger, dragging the strands upward and outward toward both of them. There was no missing the fact that there were two pulling pieces now. 

[i]Okay...so you're there...[/i]

Dracoil took a step forward. He didn't aim for a gap - there was none, not wide enough to stand on - but rather bridged the two spells with his boot. The pressure on both of them would keep either from activating, and now, he was serving as a bridge for the spells to fight each other. As long as he made sure to step off of both simultaneously, he'd be able to avoid activating either. 

And so, in methodical fashion, he crossed the room, finally arriving by the desk. He breathed out slowly, shaking his head. The job was almost half-done. 

[i]File cabinet or desk?[/i]

The job called for a wand - not wooden, but something new, something sturdier - so he'd guess desk. Once more, Dracoil eased himself down behind it, running his hand through the air, feeling the currents of magic around the desk itself. There were more spells here, smaller, more intricately woven. He'd never seen them spun so tight around one area; there was no way to guarantee that he could slide into the gaps between them this time, and he didn't have another ward-breaker. 

Hesitantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the disenchantment scroll. If he aimed that right, then it was just possible that he might be able to disable multiple warding spells at once. A single cast right at the middle of the drawers would disable most, if not all of them, and might even get him the chance to root around inside to the backs of the other drawers. 

With his only other option being to open the drawers from the side and hope that everything fired toward the back end of the room, he decided to go with the scroll. 

The dragon unrolled it and cast the disenchantment spell. As soon as he read the words, the desk started glowing, shimmering with a red-white light. He kept reading even as the scroll disintegrated under his fingers, forcing himself through to the end. 

As the ashes of the scroll fell to the ground, breaking down further and further into absolute nothingness, the desk's glow dimmed. It went from as bright as a sun to being slightly brighter than a lamp, and then to nothing more than a glow-in-the-dark star on the ceiling. Finally, that faded as well, and he was left with a sense of...

Nothing. No more magic. The disenchantment had broken everything. 

[i]Well, I know where I'm getting those in the future,[/i] he thought as he knelt down by the middle drawer. [i]Let's see what's hiding in here.[/i]

The green and black dragon reached out, pulled at the drawer knob - 

And instantly felt [i]everything[/i] go wrong. He had a split-second to realize that the interior of the desk had been warded completely separately to the outside - and worse, he'd triggered an alarm as soon as he opened the drawer - before the magic went dead. Dracoil closed his eyes and winced just as he heard the shimmer of someone sliding in behind him. 

"I'm caught," he said, slowly raising his hands over his head. "I'm not going to fight that."

"One of the smarter thieves to try and break in this week."

"This week, hmm?" Dracoil shook his head. "I guess that explains why the contract was offering so much money. Can't say who, before you ask; there's a certain amount of professionalism there. But everything's still where you had it; I didn't have a chance to move anything."

"That is the point of warding. Turn around."

Dracoil did as he was asked. Now that he was caught, there was no point in trying to fight his way to freedom. Somewhere else, dealing with one of the corporations, he would have considered it, but here? With this mage? He'd be better off leaping off a cliff and hoping that there was a deep enough puddle of water at the bottom than trying to fight his way free. 

And as he finally got a look at the academy's headmaster, he felt even better about his decision. The black-scaled, white-eyed dragon loomed over him, half a foot taller and with broader shoulders. He wore a gold coat over a red shirt, and he had his hands in his pockets, but despite that, he [i]radiated[/i] magic. There was nothing but power there, and it was enough to send a shiver down Dracoil's spine despite every bit of professionalism that he had learned over the years. He'd made the right choice not fighting.

"For someone that knows when they're outmatched, you picked an odd person to try and rob," Draconicon said, leaning against his desk. "So, you won't be telling me who hired you?"

Dracoil shook his head. 

"Professionalism, I assume?"

"More or less," Dracoil shrugged. "Better not to burn bridges where I can. Not that I imagine that this one will be hiring me for anything anytime soon, but you know. Better to keep the door open just in case."

"I see. And the reason that you took the contract, then?"

"Now [i]that[/i] is something I am willing to share."

"Then...do so," Draconicon said, gesturing for him to continue. 

The black-green dragon smiled, bowing his head ever so slightly. 

"I've heard many things about the dragon that runs this academy. Many things. And all of them tell me that he is someone that is not only capable, but powerful. Inventive, too, inasmuch as someone can be when they're stuck with the administration of something day in and day out. Still, the fact that people talk about you at all -"

"The point, please."

"Yes, yes," Dracoil said, shaking his head. "The point is, I was fairly certain that my chances of success were small. If you [i]were[/i] as good as the stories said, then I probably wouldn't succeed on the mission. At the same time, if I did not succeed, you weren't the sort that would drum up a horrific punishment for me. An inventive one, probably. One that I certainly wouldn't like. Not one that would [i]hurt[/i] me, though.

"And at the same time, it would let me see if the stories were true when I met you." Dracoil gestured up and down. "And they are."

"And if the stories weren't true, you would have..." The dragon gestured idly. "What? Taken the goods and run?"

"...It's a job."

"Mmm-hmm."

He could tell that wasn't coming across well. He'd hoped that the frankness would at least buy him some time - and it had - but it wasn't looking like it was leading Draconicon to grant him mercy. He'd need something more, something that would encourage the mage to put aside the punishment for thieves. What else could he offer?

[i]Doubt that he wants to hire a thief to go after anyone, since he could just do that himself,[/i] he thought. [i]Perhaps against my previous employer, but ethics forbid me from offering that.[/i]

But there had to be something, something that - 

His eyes fell to an off-angle shape in the dragon's pants. It took him half a second to realize that he was looking at a subsiding erection, and one that was of reasonably substantial size, even for someone of Draconicon's size. The black dragon must have been in the middle of something more 'personal' when the ward had gone off; no wonder he wasn't in the happiest of moods. 

Dignity and freedom fought briefly before the latter won out. Dracoil looked up again, head cocked to the side with a small smile creeping across his muzzle. 

"I can see that I interrupted you."

"What - oh. That." Draconicon shook his head. "Never much time for that."

"I can imagine. So. Perhaps we can make a deal."

"...Are you offering -"

"At the least, I can help you get into a better mood for figuring out what kind of punishment I deserve," Dracoil said. "So...shall I help you?"

"...You know, normally, that kind of offer would have gotten you thrown out the window with prejudice," Draconicon said, chuckling. "But today, I'm needy enough that I just want to finish what I started. Fine. I'll give you the time to get me off at least once, and then we'll talk about your fate."

That was enough for Dracoil. Maybe he might be able to get this mage to let him loose without any punishment, perhaps he would end up with a minor curse. Either way, he imagined that he'd be able to keep the law out of it, and that was all that mattered to him. 

And more...

Dracoil kept his thoughts off his face as he walked around the black dragon, but he'd been intrigued by the Dean of the academy for some time. Not only for the sake of his power, but also for the way that he was said to treat people. People talked about him in the shadows quite a bit, about his insight, about his flexibility and how he treated the people under him. There were many stories about agents that had come to undermine him only to become his underlings at the end of the tale. There seemed to be something unique about this dragon, and it...intrigued him. 

[i]Perhaps I will find out what it is if I do enough for him.[/i]

Knowing that the Dean likely had people willing to fawn over him already, Dracoil took his time. He let his hands wander over the other dragon's clothes, touching his hips, his sides, working up the middle of his back and between his wings. There was no twitching, no nervous reaction; Draconicon clearly didn't fear him in the slightest. It might have been insulting if it wasn't accurate. 

He reached the other dragon's shoulders, squeezed them, then stroked back down his arms. He brought his hands around, touching the Dean's stomach, then chest, feeling the muscles beneath the soft, scholarly squish that had developed. No matter how sedentary a dragon became, there was always something under that pudge that reminded others of what they were dealing with. 

There was no speaking, not yet. He dragged his hands down, feeling, fondling in silence. The softness faded as he reached Draconicon's waist; the dragon's pants were light, and he could feel the hard scales on the other side. He pushed himself a bit closer, his crotch pressing up against the Dean's ass - 

"Planning on trying to serve from behind?" Draconicon asked. 

"If it is what would make you happy," Dracoil shrugged. 

"Not today. But it's worth knowing."

[i]As is knowing that you're a switch.[/i]

He squirreled that thought away, focusing on what he felt at the front. At the same time, he shifted his position, moving from standing behind the black dragon to standing in front of him, his fingers stroking over the shapes he found. The long, firm shape of the dragon's shaft was easy to find, but his balls were further back, further down, and heavy. They were like horse balls, heavy, full, and more than sufficient to fill his hand. He palmed them gently, nodding to himself. 

"You're clinical," Draconicon said. 

"Is it that obvious?"

"Heh, a bit. But not a bad thing. This is business, after all."

"An exchange of services."

"A service for mercy, rather." 

Dracoil said nothing. 

"I think that we can move on. No point in keeping our clothes on now."

"Give me a moment."

"No."

Draconicon snapped his fingers and their clothes disappeared. Not burnt away, not ripped off, just...gone. Dracoil blinked as the support he had been enjoying from his underwear disappeared, leaving him with nothing to hold back the little bulge of his cock sliding from his slit. He managed to keep from whipping his head around in shock, but he couldn't resist looking down, slowly leaning his head forward to stare as his bared self. 

"...That is a nice trick," Dracoil said. 

"One of many," Draconicon said. "Why don't you look at me, now?"

It was hard not to as he brought his eyes back up. Starting with the black dragon's feet, of course - they were the first thing to see, since he was just far enough away to not get an eye-full of dick right off the bat - and they were quite large. He'd heard from some of the same people that talked about the dragon breaking others that he often used his feet for that, utilizing pheromones and more to warp the minds of those that tried to do him wrong and turn them to his service. From where he stood, the black dragon's feet looked like they could do that physically, grinding out thoughts and - with a bit of magic - putting a powerful foot fetish in someone that would slowly warp them to bow to such large things. 

[i]If he asks, I can tend to those...if he asks...[/i]

His eyes moved up, following the thicker lines of strong legs to the Dean's package. It was a big one, just like everything else. Mostly hard, eleven inches long, but with room to grow a bit further. The idea of that going somewhere inside of him was more than slightly intimidating, and he had to force himself to think of the other consequences if he didn't indulge the mage. A little bit of discomfort and embarrassment now was well-worth avoiding any experience with law enforcement. And the balls below were...definitely over-full. The black scales were taut, pulled tight without a wrinkle across them, and he could only imagine how full and churning they must feel with that sort of tightness and weight. 

Further up, a bit of a belly, though not much. Just enough to make the dragon look less muscular and more 'average,' he supposed. Further up, a strong chest, hard shoulders. Overall, quite masculine, though with wider hips than he had thought to see; the pants and coat did a good job of hiding that from a casual glance. 

"Well?" Draconicon asked. 

"You're...quite the sight."

"I'd hope so. Now." He smiled, holding up his hand, fingers set to snap again. "Let's continue this little game, shall we?"

"A little faster than I expected."

"I don't like wasting time."

Click.

Just like before, things changed instantly. One moment, Dracoil stood there in the nude, aware of his nakedness but not bothered by it. The next, he was pulled to his knees by things coiling around his ankles and thighs, restraining his arms behind his back, and almost completely in control of his body. The dragon yelped as his knees clicked against the floor, whipping his head around to see - 

[i]Tentacles?[/i]

More than a few of them, too. There was a whole nest that had been summoned through some strange hole in the floor. They rose up and twisted, curling, coiling up his legs and along his tail. They pressed against him like dozens of tongues or fingers, each one slick and powerful beyond their appearance. One slid under him, stroking from the back of his slit all the way to his hole, and a little shiver ran up and down his spine at the gentle contact down there. 

Tap. 

He turned around, staring at the thick cock that hung over his face. A breath brought the powerful scent to his head, and another, different shiver ran through him, this one bringing with it a sense of tingling, relaxing heat that hit him right down to the groin. His cock started to grow again, slowly spilling from its sheath at the pheromones rushing through his nose and mind. 

"Mmmph..."

"Just a little encouragement. Trust me. You're going to want this to be nice and slick for what's coming."

"Mmmph...somehow...I don't think spit-lube is going to...going to be enough..."

"Don't worry. That's what the tentacles are for."

"Nnngh...That's going to - mmph!"

Dracoil huffed, tensing up for a moment as the slender tip of the tentacle under him pushed inside. It was skinnier than his pinky finger, but that meant nothing for someone that wasn't ready for penetration. Even though it was surprisingly gentle - even going so far as to spurt some sort of slime deep into his hole for further lubrication - it was still a lot. The heat around his hole kept him from doing anything else for a few seconds, leaving him half-paralyzed and focusing on breathing. 

Just breathing. 

Breathing in - 

[i]Mmmph...should have opened my mouth more...[/i]

As the pheromones helped him relax, he forced his mouth forward, taking Draconicon's cock past his lips. It was faintly salty, but not the sort of musky, nasty cock that he had tasted a few times in the past. This dragon took care of himself, allowing no more than the natural 'coating' of fluids, and he appreciated that. 

He focused on keeping his mind as clear as possible. The pheromones were helping him relax - and his hole appreciated that - but he didn't want to fall any further down that chemical rabbit hole. As he took cock into his maw and the tentacle further up his ass, his cock continued to grow. It pushed out, sliding out of his slit and hanging out in the open, and soon started bobbing upward. It didn't take long before he was throbbing a bit himself, though he wasn't leaking just yet. 

Still...

Throb. Throb. Throb. The neediness was a familiar sensation, something that he often ignored while he was involved in this sort of 'work.' It wasn't the first time that he had abandoned dignity for safety, and he doubted that it would be the last. It was still distracting - 

"Mmmph?!"

A hand on his head and a foot to his cock pushed him down to the ground. No longer just squatting, his legs were pushed so far apart that his crotch touched the ground and his ass cheeks were flattened against the floor. He was still sucking on Draconicon's shaft, but only the head remained in his mouth, and - 

And he was getting his cock stepped on, stroked, teased between the black dragon's toes. He had no foot fetish of his own, but it was still sensation, and more, domination. He huffed, looking up past the dragon's shaft to meet his eyes. 

"Is this something you like?" Draconicon asked. 

"..."

"You can take your mouth off to answer."

Dracoil slowly pulled his head back, taking a moment to choose his words as wisely as possible. After swallowing residual pre-cum, he tilted his head back to meet his captor's eyes. 

"I...do not have a foot fetish...but I don't mind if you want to do it..."

"That's not something that works for me."

"...Then why -"

"I [i]know[/i] you can enjoy anal. Foot stuff only works for me if I know the other person's getting into it...or getting [i]broken[/i] in by it. Since that's not happening, we'll skip it."

"...Fair."

He went back to sucking the dragon off, putting a little more effort into it. Surprisingly gentle fingers stroked his head as he bobbed forward, back, forward, back, taking his time to study the thick cock. It continued to grow in his mouth until it reached what he imagined was about fourteen inches. Couldn't measure it, obviously, but it was more than a foot long, and fourteen inches felt like about the right length. Particularly when he pushed his head forward enough to take the whole thing into his throat. 

Forward. 

Back. 

Up. 

Down. 

The tentacle in his rump had gotten thicker, he realized, and there was so much lube-slime in him that it was starting to leak back out along the slippery thing. He groaned, huffing against his will. For all that this was pragmatic, he was starting to see how others might slowly break down in the dragon's clutches. Draconicon's power was such that he could bring quite a few things to bear at once, and...and it was hard not to think about how much better it would feel if he just...gave himself up. 

[i]Won't. Won't.[/i]

He held onto that as the black dragon pulled back, that long shaft finally popping out of his mouth. Dracoil coughed, shaking his head as he refocused on the world in front of him. The tendrils were still there, still inside of him, but they weren't fucking him anymore. 

"I think that's about as much prep as you need," Draconicon said with a small smile. "Think that you can keep that sane head on your shoulders after getting this under your tail?"

"...That's my intent."

"Looking forward to seeing the result." Click; the tentacles disappeared, leaving him kneeling without restraint. "Now, up and around. Let's see how you look from the other side..."

#

The session was...pleasant, though rough. When they were done, Dracoil could tell that he was going to be leaking for a while; he reached around and plugged himself as the black dragon got dressed with another snap of his fingers. For all that Draconicon had been reasonable so far, this was the key point; everyone changed after they blew their load.

"Well, I can't deny that was quite enjoyable," Draconicon said, sitting down behind his desk. "But I also can't pretend that you had any right to be here."

"..."

"I don't plan on cursing you, or anything of that ilk," the other dragon said, adjusting his posture in his seat. "But I think you still owe me at least a partial favor. Something that I might call in at a future date -"

"Do you plan on having me take care of my employer?"

The Dean arched an eyebrow. Dracoil shrugged, shuffling about to try and get comfortable while still keeping his hole plugged. 

"Just wondered if you'd like some revenge. I can't tell you who it is, but I can tell you what would work to undermine them."

"...Quite ambitious for you to be angling for a job just after botching one so thoroughly." 

He shrugged again. In a world of ever-changing employers, a freelancer had to get work where they could. And if it kept him from getting caught out by the law, all the better; he might not have succeeded in stealing from Draconicon, but he had gotten a certain measure of the dragon. He knew that this one would be good for a number of contracts going forward if they could find something that they agreed needed doing. If it wasn't that, then - 

"That said, I'm not opposed to it. I just need to figure out if I really want to pursue that one..."

It was something. Not much of something, admittedly, but something. Dracoil could work with that. 

Grunting, he swiveled his hips around until he could get his feet under him. There was always a certain stiffness and soreness after getting fucked in the ass, and while it had been enjoyable, there was really no getting away from that part of it. Shaking his head and fighting the little wobble in his legs as he pushed himself to his feet, the black-green dragon looked back at the Dean. 

"Any chance I can get my clothes?"

“Hmm? Oh, yes, certainly.”

Another click, and he had his clothes on once more. Admittedly, the back of his pants were rapidly soaked through with all the cum oozing out of him after that, but at least it was trapped somewhere surreptitious. Nobody was going to see that unless he raised his tail over his head or something like that. 

“Anyway. If I need you, I’ll find a way to get in touch,” Draconicon said, waving toward the door. “You can leave now. I’ll let you know if anything comes up.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

“I know.”

Not sure if he should take that as a comment toward his eagerness during their bit of ‘fun’ or if the dragon knew something he didn’t, Dracoil decided to ignore it and walk out of the office. As soon as he was outside, he slumped in on himself. 

[i]Okay, that could have gone better…but it could have gone far worse.[/i]

Progress. That was all that mattered.









[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: A thief attempts to get something off of Draconicon, then uses sex to try and buy himself his freedom.

Tags: M/M, Draconicon, Dragon, Magic, Oral, Tentacles, Off-Screen Anal, Orgasm, Cum, Teasing, Foot Fetish, Playing Around, Semi-Blackmail, Blowjob,