Thursday, August 6, 2009


I've found a lovely home for my erotica.. well, not all of it, but a great deal of it :) Something new goes up every other day at Se.meXse.Me :)  I think that's a great url too, ne?  So here's an excerpt from the story I put up yesterday. :)

Hiroshi's Sacrifice
by Nix Winter
Site: < a wonderful little site with stories, lots of art, and a small monthly subscription

Summary: A beautiful outcast man feels the call of the dragon... a hungry and powerful dragon that wants to put more than teeth into the vulnerable little brunette!

Genre: M/m, non-con, transformation... sex with a dragon

The kingdom of Enry lay between two rich mountain ranges with the great mother ocean to the west and dry, unforgiving desert of Yesterday to the East. Once there had been great war between those that live far across Yesterday. In those days there had been many people and the knowledge of magic brought both ease and greed into people's lives like a growing illness.

Peace came when the greatest warrior among both people's melded both technology and magic into a terrible solution. He created Yesterday where vast cities had been and rose up from glittering gold sand as the terrible dragon Wisdom. Wisdom lived alone in the barren sands of Yesterday, guarding the passage of any who would cross his sand. Those that came with peaceful intent passed easily, sometimes with miraculous aid. Those that carried malice became the prey of the sand, where not even their bones could escape.

Around the century mark of it's creation, a path would rise from the sand. Cool, blue, shaded, and the people would understand that the time of sacrifice had again arrived. No rain would fall in Enry nor would the sun shine in Lasp until the sacrifice had reached the Pit of the Dragon.

The sacrifice this time was a slender man with long brown hair. Wisps of bangs hung in his face. Eyes the color of early twilight watched the road into Yesterday. No one accompanied him to the the edge of the sand. He brought nothing with him. Night whispered in around him as he stood on grass still, the tips of his boots just about on the impossibly smooth blue road.

He didn't know why he was waiting. There was no one to even know he'd left the village, at least not for a few days. Fewer people would care that he'd left. He was twenty-two years old, by his best guess, but he'd never belonged. His mother had never been right in the head and his father had never been known to begin with. A thief and a beggar, he'd been waiting for one scam too many until he'd woken up ten days before and known. He belonged to the dragon.

Since then, his dreams had been filled with a vivid reality that he could barely escape when he was awake. He understood few of the images, sensations from the dreams, even less why they left him with a hard on that took longer and longer to resolve. The usual images of people he knew didn't work. He'd been fantasizing about Ham from the tavern for as long as he could remember.

Usually imagining the man's huge hand on the back of his neck, bending him over one of the tables as the bartender unfastened his pants and pushed them down his slender legs, that worked good, unusually. Sometimes he added a couple of the other guys helping to hold him down. Ham would slap his ass sometimes, commanding him to hold still because he was going to get cock up his ass no matter what he did. Sometimes the fantasy took place during dinner with half the village in the place, watching him cry as Ham shoved his thick cock up into his tight ass. He smiled, tongue pressed to his upper lip. It was his fantasy. In it he'd been a virgin a hundred times in his bed in the mornings, hand on his cock. He'd kept those fantasies to himself though. Ham's wife had been a scary crazed creature with too many knives and he wasn't sure she was getting enough of Ham's cock to make it at all fair to ask her to share with the village rat.

He wondered what it would feel like to be eaten by a dragon. The dragon had flown over the village the day before he known that he belonged to it. With great golden wings and mesmerizing blue eyes, it had owned the sky. The air, the ground, everything had seemed to bow to the soaring dragon, the black touch of its shadow. The caress of that shadow on the ground had drawn him the next day, as clear as if there had been a path where there was none, until here he'd stood at the edge of the sand, the blue road of the sacrifice before him.

One more step.

He didn't figure it would hurt too much.

Being eaten.

He'd seen prey go down pretty fast to a hungry predator. Maybe it was just shock that made them limp as they were carried away, but either way, dead or in shock – it probably wasn't hurting too much. That mouth he'd seen – it had been huge. There had to be big teeth in there. He imagined a great canine tooth, pointy and long, pressing down into his belly. Fast. It would be really fast, but his mind took his fears around and it wasn't a tooth penetrating him. And it wasn't his belly either. Though he expected that on a beast the size of the dragon, a cock might go all the way to his belly. It didn't really matter what the dragon wanted with him. He'd been chosen to be the sacrifice and he had to go.

He wanted to think that he didn't care about the people in his village. If they starved because their was no rain, what was that on him. He'd live longer starving than being chewed on. Those people across the sand – he cared even less about them. It was the dragon that he cared about. Those blue eyes had drawn him in and he imagined longing, loneliness, hunger in them, and a great need. He needed to meet that need even if only his own blood would sooth the dragon.

Determined now, the last little bit of fear releasing him, he bent to unlace his boots. Those he could leave for someone else. The blue road was supposed to be cool and he wasn't going to need boots when the dragon was done with him. He could leave his coat too. And his shirt, he decided, would be better to leave. It was in good repair, solid material, and someone could use it. He peeled it off over his head, tossing it to the ground.

Lean, his belly was lined and smooth. His long brown braid reached to his waist and he'd brushed it out well the night before. He turned and bowed to the swaying grass, as if he'd just finished the greatest stage play ever, then ran towards the blue road.

Shadow swallowed him almost as soon as he hit the road, wrapping around him, lifting him, and even though he didn't want to, he screamed. Through the shadow he could see the ground fading farther away and he screamed again.

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