“G… gaaah?”
She pants, biting her lips, fingers curling inside, spreading those lips, yes, lips. Oooh by Thor’s hammer, this is what a woman’s pussy feels like?”
She rolls onto her knees, her cheek against the floor, her tiny but sensitive breasts pressing against the floor. Her body twitches, her pussy dripping over her fingers and down her thigh.
“W… what sorcery…?” she groans, closing her eyes and letting out a moan that echoes throughout the house. “How is this, mmghn… possible?”
She pushes two fingers into herself, panting, her eyes rolling back. It’s so frustrating, even if this transformation feels good. Even if now, she’s losing her mind and forgetting what it is like to have a cock in the new state she’s in, she knows that she can’t do anything about it. She can’t show herself to anyone in Berk. They wouldn’t trust some random stranger; even so, she knows all the men there. It would be so weird, so wrong to beg them when he knows them as a man.
And the women? What can women do to satiate his needs now? She hardly understood them as a man. He didn’t gain some magical understanding of them now.
No one in the village understands him or cares for him. He’s always been Hiccup, the screw-up, the failed Viking, and now, he’s Hiccup, the failed man.
She opens an eye, fingering herself faster now. “No, there’s someone… a man, a male, who appreciated her. A man who pinned her down. A male who displayed his arousal for her. A male who looked at her with primal, desirous eyes.
And as he imagined that tall red thing penetrating into her, she cries out his name as she cums, wetting the floor and collapsing onto it.
“Tooothleessssss!”
The next day sees the storm that rocked Berk subsiding, but there is still a light drizzle that permeates the air. A figure pokes her head out of Stoic’s longhouse, draped in a heavy cloak that the leader left behind on his latest voyage. The woman makes her way through the outskirts of the village, stumbling around in shoes far too big for her and panting heavily, the fear of the others finding her running through her mind, a scream of frustration caught in her throat.
As she rushes into the wilderness, Astrid, peeking out her window on a gloomy day, catches sight of her, and a smirk spreads over her face. “Serves you right,” she says.
Back at the hidden hole, Toothless curls up underneath a rocky outcropping. The dragon is restless and cold in the soggy weather. But as the sun finally peaks through the sky and the rain dries up, he yawns, stretches, and lumbers over towards the watering hole, where he laps a little water.
But something wafts through his nostrils, and he pauses, glancing slowly upward.
Something stood before him that smelled familiar and intoxicating. He lifted his head up, mesmerized by her presence.
“Toothless,” comes the voice, shaking and shuddering from the cold and the quickening beating of her heart. “You’re not going to attack me, are you?” she asks, licking her lips.
The dragon sits up, snorting. Finally, the nightfury lets out a low, guttural sound. “No…”
The woman steps forward. “I can understand you… You can talk?”
“I always could. You can, too?”
“You recognize me?” She asks, her eyes widening.
The dragon rises, sitting on his hind legs, his cock coming into view, sticking up, swelling, glistening with his intent. “Your scent,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, that…” the woman gulps, tightening the grip on Stoic’s cloak. “It’s pretty apparent, isn’t it?” She says this and lets go, letting the cloak fall off her shoulders, revealing to the dragon a side of the human he had never seen before. She has long hair, but her skin is pale, and she curves at her chest and thighs. “I guess this is what I am now, Toothless. Is it… what you like?”
The dragon pounces, knocking the woman that was Hiccup over, his cock pointed and dripping, drooling at her loins.
“Ha… ha… wuh-wait, Toothless!”
The dragon growls, leaning in over her face. “Why should I?”
“You’ll t-tear me apart. You’re too big!”
He snorts and stumbles away, groaning with his hips high in the air, his cock dangling down.
Hiccup crawls onto her knees. “Now, wait a moment,” she says, soothing him. She reaches up between his legs, her fingers brushing against the length of the shaft.
The dragon gasps, arching his back, spreading his wings, shuddering.
Hiccup giggles a little as she lounges on the grass, pressing her palm upon the red streak and stroking up and down. “Just because you can’t stick it inside doesn’t mean I can’t think of other things to do with it.”
The nightfury raises his head, huffing out in deep, labored breaths.
“What’s the matter?” She chuckles, scooting to her knees, letting go of him.
He spins around, furrowing his brow.
“Don’t worry. I’m not done,” she says, licking her lips and crawling under him.
Toothless blinks and looks around, pushing himself up, giving her room to crawl under him. He lowers his head, watching, but he can only get sight of her butt, and he groans heavily as the wafting of her womanhood invades his nostrils.
The woman cups a hand beneath the dragon's impressive shaft, lifting the tip with a free finger. “Oh, by all of Asgard, what I’m doing is wrong.” But he leans in, pressing his lips to the tip.
When he was younger, he had heard tales of ladies who would service lads like this and often found himself with a writing implement in his mouth when thinking. This now seems only natural, sliding a tongue up and down the dragon’s shaft, kissing along that heated meat. She wraps her lips around the side and suckles upon it, leaving it with little, peppery kisses.