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his jaws about me to
catch and drink every exploding pulse until my gripping balls were
spent in his claw.
Syrin gave me a few moments to rest, licking me clean. He was
the fountain of my pleasure and I could not deny that I owed him my
life, the life he already owned. He pressed his hard, scaled lips to
mine, forcing them open and driving inward with his tongue, treating
me with my own taste. He pressed forcefully at the back of my throat
until it too surrendered to him, opening and swallowing, allowing the
length of his tongue to penetrate.
Slowly, he broke the kiss, controlling my head by a grip at the
base of my horn and moving it between his legs. His cock was a dark
red length, it did not glitter like his scales, soft and turgid as he
stroked it against me. I worshipped it, took it in my mouth as he
pulled my head forward inexorably in his grip, filling my mouth with
the soft thickness. It forced my mouth open further as it stiffened,
Syrin pumping my head upon it like a piston. I used my wide, strong
tongue as best I could upon it, slavering with my desire to serve my
Master. Syrin angled my head and neck, penetrating my
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