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ing on me, sliding his long, thick
tail between my legs. I had no idea what he was going to do to me,
leaning over me, reaching with his clawed fingers for my chest.
He cupped his hands over my flesh, and rubbed down with his
scaled palms, making circles over my bruises, slowly adding the great
strength of his huge frame. The powerful massage increased blood
flow, bringing back faded pain and deep relief. Ordinarily the
bruises from my fight against Syrin would have been healed by now, but
being unable to move and exercise, and being magically bound with the
bridle had slowed my recovery to a more normal rate. Syrin's caress
loosened my barrel, rubbing the taut horsehide over my stomach and
waist, his muscles knotting to force their way through my nervousness
at his touch. He was strong with me, but not rough, encircling my
arms and rubbing down to my wrists, making me recall each painful
block. I tried to remain silent, but could not avoid whimpering when
Syrin brought his strength truly to bear.
He moved down to manipulate my legs, stretching them at the
joints and feeling the stocky muscles there with probing claws and
coiling tail. Then he carefully turned me to my stomach, sitting on
my legs. The blankets were not nearly cushion enough in my sensitiv
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