Excerpt for Patreon 03-2017 - Urban Arcana - Sub Salamander by , available in its entirety at Smashwords

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“This room sucks.”

You’ve said it before, although as always, you hope it’s something you’ll be able to say it again. It’s an empty, mirrored room, except for a clothes basket. With a sigh, you tug off the tight tank-top, cupping your modest bust. In all fairness, you’ve always been a little self-conscious about your chest. All of that self-consciousness fades when you start trying to wriggle out of these tight pants though. Your hips are even broader than your mother’s, and your thighs could be used to crush someone.

Considering you’re seven whole feet of dusky-skinned Salamander-girl, most people come to you in order to get crushed between those thighs. Or something equally dominant…

The downside is that it doesn’t do anything for you. Stars know you’ve tried. You look big, and scary, and strong… it was only recently that you figured out what you were missing. Once you’re fully naked, you take yourself properly. There are lots of little things about yourself that irritate you; despite having such dark, chocolate-y skin, freckles line your nose and cheekbones in a way that makes you seem younger. No matter what you do with your fiery red hair it remains a messy mop of curls that won’t grow past your shoulders. Long, menacing horns stick out from above your ears directly backwards like a herbivore—That would be fine, except for the fact that lying down can end up with a few ruined pillows unless you’re on your side.

Deep ruby-red scales cover much of your back, terminating in an incredibly long tail with a heatless, flickering, orange-yellow flame. Other red scales wrap around to hug at your chest, thankfully drawing some attention away from your small bust. You set an imposing figure… least of all because of your hermaphrodite nature; a thick, purple, reptilian cock. Many willing partners show themselves interested in ending up speared onto it.

To be dominated. It’s an urge you can understand, hardly something you’d blame them for, stars forbid. It’s an urge of your own, after all.

Your tail lashes around nervously, and you look ahead at the door waiting for you. You can almost imagine it now: the smell of her thick in the air, the wicked smile… The knowledge that this woman is entirely control of everything about you. You take a slow, deep breath to steady yourself. Just thinking about her… about that demon… has you feeling all tingly. A peek at your traitorous tail reveals the flame turning a soft pale white—Not something you understand, admittedly. You will it yellow again, snapping at it with slightly pointed teeth. One last peek in the mirror shows your nipples growing a little hard, and the womanhood hidden away behind your swaying endowment is already starting to feel like a furnace.

Nervous, jade-green eyes stare back at you in the mirror, and you try to work yourself up. Part of the whole magic is feeling strong before she takes you in her hands.

You can do this. It’s just like the last few times. Stress relief. A simple desire she fulfills for plenty of people…

You knock on the door, just once, and wait. There is no need to worry about your belongings, they’ll be safe in their box. Her voice doesn’t so much ring out as it does roll. It’s the growl of a predator that sets your stomach to flipping giddily. Don’t rush. Don’t rush to her yet.

You make sure to put on your best saunter, setting your proud hips to swaying hypnotically side-to-side.

It turns into a manic force of will to keep your footing even at the sight of her. A huge-titted succubus of a woman, framed in sensuous curve-hugging latex that shimmers in the dim lighting of her dungeon. It’s impossible to take in every incredible facet of her all at once—she’s more breathtaking every time you see her. Again your tail betrays your ardor by turning that mysterious pale white, and your epically-long tongue seems to go completely dry in your mouth.

She’s not even close to as tall as you, and her soft skin is of the color of gentle lilac. From there though, the gentle image ends. Her feet appear to be adorned with wicked stilettos. That’s merely genetics; a spur from the heels of her feet. Your gaze climbs up her legs to the bodysuit of shimmering latex, however portions of it lay cut out. Presumably for easy access—it’s far more enticing than simple nudity like your own. For a crazy moment you feel over-dressed compared to her. A rectangle of material is cut out, from just above her bellybutton, to depths yet hidden by crossed legs.

Massive, heaving breasts also remain unrestrained; the latex around them is cut out, allowing them to breathe in the air. Her nipples dip ever-so-slightly inwards, begging you to play with them, to see if you can get them to poke out for you. Trying to reach her eyes is a challenge… your attention has to travel from those tits, past plump, cock-sucking lips. They are puckered in an un-blown kiss, ready to part and reveal her hungry tongue…

It’s worth the challenge however. Slitted, violet eyes stare into your soul with desire, almost smug. As though she could see your future. To be fair: you’ve come here to be dominated, there’s nothing you could be more sure of. The sheer thrill of it has your heart hammering fiercely in your chest. There are still more things about her that drive you wild, but it is hard to get past how much it does for you. Nobody but this woman will look at you like this. Like they own you.

She has her fierce attributes; aside from all of the other features, curling horns jut out from hair like midnight. Her tail shows itself, coiling like a predator all of its own; spade-tipped and whip like. Last of all is the scent. You have a sensitive sniffer, sure… and you knew to expect her potent aroma to entice your knows. But the air itself seems to just be alive with it, redirecting precious blood away from your brain and right down to your suddenly-aching femcock.

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