Warning: This story contains some scenes of boys having sex together. If you are not supposed to be reading it, I suggest you don't. This story is copyrighted by the author. It may be freely distributed as long as it remains intact and unedited.

Peter and the Dragon

by Eric Blyton


Once upon a time in a far-away land there lived a young boy named Peter. Peter lived with his father in a small house on the edge of town. His father was a tailor and made very little money, but while they were poor, there was always food on the table and Peter was a happy boy.

One day Peter was helping his father in his tailor shop (which was in the front of their house) when two very serious looking men came in. Peter didn't like the look of them at all; they had stern faces and were frowning. He also didn't like the concerned look that came over his father's face.

"Peter, would you please run into town and fetch me some large needles and yarn from Mr. Blackburn?" his father said, handing him a small coin.

Now Peter was very concerned; his father wouldn't send him away from the shop like this unless there was very bad news. But he took the coin and scurried past the two men and out the door. Peter was a well brought up boy and he knew that it was bad manners to listen at doors, but his curiosity overcame him and he paused at the entrance to the shop hoping to hear what was said.

"We are agents for the new Governor," one of the men was saying. "We are here to inform you that a new tax has been levied on all shopkeepers. All small shops, of which you are one, must contribute five gold pieces to the Governor's fund. You may pay now, or you may pay later, but in any case, the tax must be paid by the end of the week

"Five Gold!" Peter's father exclaimed. You can't be serious! I don't have five gold and nor will most people in the town. How can the Governor expect us to pay that?"

"The Governor is quite convinced that all of you businessmen have some money squared away. Thanks to the efforts of the Crown, there has been peace in the land for several years. You're businesses have benefited from that and now you must pay your fair share. If you don't, your shop and house will become the property of the Governor and you will have to either move out or pay the Governor rent. So, one way or the other, you will pay!"

Peter had heard enough. His stomach felt sick and his eyes misted over with tears. How he wished he hadn't eavesdropped! With a heavy heart, he made his way into the town. He knew that his father had a little money hidden underneath one of the floorboards, but Peter was sure that it wasn't anywhere near enough to pay the tax. What would they do? It wasn't fair for the Governor to come along and take their house which Peter's father had build with his own two hands. Peter knew how proud his father was of their house; despite his Peter's mother being dead from when he was a year old, their house was kept just as clean as the finest palace. Peter remembered how thrilled they both were when the latest addition to the shop had been added on and how much his father had thanked him for his help, even thought Peter had done little but hold the nails and move the small scraps of wood. It just wouldn't be the same if they had to pay rent to live in it.

Peter realized that he was in the town proper. Fingering the coin his father had given him, he went into Mr. Blackburn's to get his father's supplies. There were three men in there having an loud discussion, but they stopped when they saw Peter. He went to the counter and told Mr. Blackburn what he needed. Everyone looked upset and Peter knew that it was because of the tax.

"Here you go, lad," Mr. Blackburn said, handing him a tightly wrapped package. Peter put it securely in his side pouch and left the store. No sooner had he left the store when the conversation struck up again.

"It's no use," one of the men was saying, "None of us have the money to pay and the Governor is bringing troops in. He'll have all our houses by next week and we'll all be paying rent of else in a debtor's prison."

Peter shook his head and started toward home. He did not hurry, his father had sent him out not because he really needed these things, but to protect him. Along the way, he brooded. All in all, Peter was a very practical boy, much like his father. However, his relatives on his mother's side of the family were known for being a bit reckless. Normally, this did not affect Peter in any way, but when he became desperate, he tended to go off and do unwise things. As he walked, he came up with different schemes to save their house, each one more wild than the last. First he considered going to the city robbing a bank. Unfortunately, the city was so far away; even if he somehow pulled it off, he'd never be back in time to pay the tax. Then he considered sneaking into the Governor's palace and stabbing the man in his sleep. But Peter didn't think that he could kill anybody, no mater how much they might deserve it. But his third idea refused to go away. It was the scariest one, and the one that held the most risk for Peter, but it was perhaps the only one that had a chance of working.

In the mountains to the west, there lived a dragon named Braxx. Braxx, like most dragons, was thoroughly evil. Mothers throughout the land would frighten their children into eating their vegetables by telling them that Braxx would get them if they didn't clean off their plate. Peter's father would never had told him that; apart from the fact that Peter ate all his food and was happy to have it, it was kind of a silly thing to suggest that a dragon would care whether or not you ate your spinach. All the same, Peter had heard enough stories of Braxx to have a ten year-old's fear of him. It had been years since Braxx had come out of his cave in the Thorned Mountains and rampaged, but some said that he still came out at night and preyed upon cattle or unsuspecting wayfarers. It was also said that the dragon slept on a huge pile of gold and gems and this is where Peter got his idea.

Several times over the years, adventurers and fortune-hunters had sought the dragon's lair, boasting about how they would slay the beast and take his treasure for themselves. One by one, they had gone toward the Thorned Mountains and none of them had ever been seen or heard from again. Peter had no doubt that Braxx had eaten them. But what if, Peter wondered, they went there not to slay the dragon or even steal his treasure, but to only take a handful of coins or one small gem? Perhaps one small boy could sneak in and sneak out before the dragon even noticed him. Granted, this was a very chancy and rather foolish idea, but Peter's impulsive side had taken over. He turned off the road and headed toward the west where the Thorned Mountains thrust up into the sky. Peter did think about his father and hoped that he wouldn't worry too much, but obviously there was no way to tell him what his plan was.

Peter walked all day, stopping only to eat some fruit from a tree. When night started to fall, he found a suitable campsite near a small brook. There were some mid-sized fish in the water and he managed to spear three of them with a homemade spear. He gathered up some wood and built a cozy fire. Of course, he had no matches, but Peter was a resourceful boy and knew how to start a fire with the materials on hand. Roasting his fish on a stick, he sat back and tried to relax. He tried not to think about how worried his father must be nor about the Thorned Mountains, looming against the night sky, now less than a day's walk away.

He was just getting ready to take his fish off the fire when he heard a noise. Bolting upright, he looked around. All he could see were the flickering shadows in the woods, but surely whatever was out there would be able to see him clearly. Peter considered dashing into the woods to hide, but somehow he could not bring himself to enter the darkness that was waiting at the edge of the firelight.

"Ahoy, the camp!" a voice called out, "May I join you?"

Relieved that the intruder sounded both human and friendly, Peter answered back.

"Please, you are welcome to share my fire."

And old man in ragged clothes came out of the trees. He had a white beard and over his shoulder was hung a lute. One glance told Peter that he would be harmless enough.

"Sorry for sneaking up on you," the man said, "You can't be too careful in these parts. I'm Galen, traveling bard. And you, young sir?"

"My name is Peter. Please, come sit down."

Peter sat back down on a log while Galen brushed off a flat stone and sat opposite the boy. Peter noticed that his fish were done and removed them from the fire.

"Would you like to share my meal?" Peter offered. While the boy was hungry and could have easily devoured the lot by himself, he would never think of not sharing.

"Well, thank you very much. I've not had a chance to get anything for supper tonight. I'd be honored."

Peter broke one of the fish in half and handed it to Galen on a large leaf with one of the whole fish. He took the other one and a half and started to eat. It was clear that the bard was very hungry the way he devoured the fish. As he cleaned the meat off of the last bone, he offered Peter his flask.

"Have a bit of wine?" he said. "Not the best vintage, but not the worst I've had by any manner of means."

Peter accepted it and had a good swig. It would save him having to go down to the brook for a drink of water. The wine had a sweet taste and gave him a warm feeling inside.

"So tell me, Peter, what a boy with as fine a set of manners as you is doing out in the woods all alone at night?" Galen asked as the boy gave him his flask back.

Peter thought for a minute and then decided to tell the old man the truth. There was nothing the bard could do to stop him, and it felt good to let someone else know. Also, though Peter didn't dwell on this thought too long, if he didn't come back, at least someone would know what had happened to him.

"Well, that's a very bold plan, there, lad," Galen said when Peter had told him his story. "Do you really think that you can pull it off?"

"If I can get in and out without waking the dragon up, I should be fine," Peter said, trying to smooth over his doubts.

"Lad, dragons are not deep sleepers. Nor do they sleep for long periods of time. Even if you come upon the dragon asleep, before too long, he will wake up. And even if you take but one copper piece, he will notice. He will find your smell and hunt you down. Do you really want to bring a dragon's wrath down upon your village?"

"I have to do something! I can't just let the Governor's men come and take our house."

"Hmm. Well, I am no expert in dragon lore. Perhaps there is merit to your plan. In any case, you are a very brave boy for trying to carry it out. Would you mind if I wrote a song about you to add to my collection?"

"No," Peter answered, genuinely flattered.

"Well, it will take me a while. Meanwhile, the hour is late. Would you like to hear some of my songs before we rest?"

Peter eagerly nodded and Galen took up his lute started to pluck the strings. His voice rang out, clear as the bell in the town church as he began to sing. Peter listed with rapt attention. The bard sang of adventure, of heroes on impossible quests and of love and romance. He sang songs that made Peter laugh and a few that made him cry. It seemed that the night went on forever and the boy did not notice when his eyes closed. His last memory was of a hand inside his pocket and a soft voice whispering one word.


* * * *

Peter woke up the next morning and looked around. There was no sign of Galen. He was a bit disappointed, he'd hoped to talk to the old bard some more before he left. He was covered with dew and a bit stiff from sleeping on the ground, but other than that he was fine. Despite the fact that he must have been up most of the night listening to the bard sing, he felt as well-rested as he'd ever been. Running his hands through his blonde hair, he stood up.

As he moved around the campsite, he noticed something strange. While his own footprints were clearly visible in the dirt, there were none belonging to Galen. Nor could he find the bones of the fish that the old man had eaten or any other sign of the minstrel's presence. It was if he'd never been there at all. Peter wondered it he hadn't dreamed the whole experience. Suddenly, the clearing felt a bit sinister to him and he hurried on his way.

He walked for an hour, stopping only to have breakfast when he came upon a tree loaded with blackberries. After he had eaten his full, he put some in his pockets for later. As he filled up his left pocket, he came upon something that hadn't been there before. Pulling it out, he discovered what appeared to be a spool of thread. The thread, however, was like none he'd ever seen before. It was as thin as gossamer and as light as silk, but when he tugged on it, he found that it was as strong as steel. As much as he tried, he found he could not pop it. Peter remembered the hand in his pocket and realized that the bard must have given it to him as a gift. Perhaps he thought that Peter's father could use it, but he didn't remember telling the old man that his father was a tailor. And since the bard had obviously been real, why had Peter been unable to detect any sign of him at the campsite? Unable to solve any of these mysteries, Peter put the thread in his pouch since his pockets were full of berries and walked on.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the Thorned Mountains were looming ever closer. The ground became rocky and steep. Peter knew that the dragon's cave was near the pass because that was how he often was able to catch unsuspecting travelers. As he scaled up the path, he ate the last of his blackberries. Soon, he saw it. At first it looked like a small hole, but as he got closer, he could see that it was a substantial cave. Gulping back his fear, he silently approached the maw in the rock. Dripping, mossy stalactites hung from the roof of the entrance, looking like rotten teeth that would close down on Peter the moment he walked under them. Trembling in feet, Peter entered the cave. The floor was slippery as he made his way among the stalagmites, trying to keep his footing. He heard a crunch and looked down. To his absolute horror, he realized that he had stepped on a pile of bones. He stepped backward quickly and his feet slid out from under him. He landed on his bottom with a painful thud and found himself starring into the empty eyes of a human skull. Peter stifled a scream just in time; all that came out was a high pitched whine. He turned his head and stayed there until his heart slowed down. It was beating so loud, Peter was sure that the dragon must be able to hear it.

When at last he felt calm enough to stand, he got back up and went deeper into the cave. There was a wide passage at the end of the cave and Peter followed it. Soon it turned and he left the sunlight behind. The moss on the wall gave an eerie glow, giving him just enough light to make his way. The further he went, the narrower the passage got, but it was still big enough for a large beast to come though. The stones in the cave were cold, but soon Peter fancied that the air was getting hot. Also, besides the faint glow from the moss, there seemed to be a light source ahead of him. Peter slowed even more, making sure that his soft boots made no sound as they passed over the rock floor. It soon became clear that he was coming to a lighted area. There was one final bend in the passage and then it opened up. Peter found himself standing on the edge of a large chamber, illuminated by a magical light who's source he could not determine. But what caught his eye was the dragon.

Braxx way laying on top of a huge pile of glittering coins. The monster's head was resting against a wooden chest and his eyes were closed, but puffs of steam were coming out of his nostrils. The dragon's massive body was covered with shimmering blue scales from his head to his tail. Folded on his back were a pair of wings that would have filled the cavern if they were extended. His legs were dug into the pile of treasure, but Peter could make out the sharp claws on his back foot. Braxx's breathing was low and deep, almost silent despite the absence of all other noise. Summoning all his courage, Peter moved out into the cavern.

As he got closer to the dragon's horde, he could see gems and jewels scattered among the gold coins. He decided that a gem would be best to take, it was small and wouldn't clink in his pocket. Reaching the edge of the pile, he saw a green stone and bent over to pick it up. Having retrieved the glittering stone from the pile, Peter turned around and headed for the door. As quiet as a mouse, he was, tiptoeing to the sanctuary of the exit. He had almost made it when he heard a loud rumbling. Throwing caution to the wind, he dashed into the doorway and ran around the bend. Only his quick reflexes stopped him from running headlong into a stone wall that had not been there a few moments before. Frantically, Peter looked around; he must have taken a wrong turn or missed the passage! Panic began to overtake him and he realized that the rumbling sound was the laughter of the dragon.

"I don't think you'll be getting out that way, little man!" a deep voice full of cruel mirth said.

Peter banged his fists against the unyielding stone, but succeeded only in bruising his hands. He couldn't be trapped! What would his father do? Realizing for the first time the true extent of his folly, Peter burst into tears.

"Oh, now don't do that," the dragon said. "Hearing people cry does get so tiresome. Come out and let's have a little chat. I want to have a look at you."

Peter turned around. There was power in Braxx's voice, a tone that compelled him to obey. With his legs shaking, he walked back into the dragon's chamber.

Braxx was wide awake, with his neck lifted high and the cold eyes looking down at Peter. He was fully awake now, and Peter wondered if he had ever really been sleeping.

"What a tasty bit of meat you look to be," Braxx said. "This really is my lucky day."

"Please, sir," Peter said as he fell to his knees, "Don't eat me, please!"

"Oh, do stop that," Braxx hissed. "Do you have any idea how pathetic that it? At least from a boy like you I would expect no less, but it's degrading when those macho hero types come in and do it. In any case, I may as well tell you that begging never changed my mind."

Peter hung his head. If Braxx didn't want him to beg, what else could he do? Even if he had a sword, there was no way he could even hurt the dragon, much less kill him.

"So what, may I ask, were you doing invading my lair, disturbing my sleep, and stealing my emerald for?"

"The new governor has raised the taxes," Peter blubbered, "If my father doesn't pay it by the end of the week, they'll going to take our house. I just wanted enough to pay!"

"So your father sent you to rob me so he could pay his taxes?" Braxx asked in an incredulous tone.

"My father doesn't know where I've gone," Peter sobbed. "Please, he must be so worried!"

"That isn't any of my concern," the dragon said. "I don't allow thieves to leave, no mater what the reason they came. I'm still going to eat you. However, since you aren't one of those idiot knights, I'll grant you one thing. I'm going to swallow you whole instead of chewing you up. Plus, you look to succulent to rend limb to limb."

Braxx bent his neck down and moved his head toward Peter. The boy backed up until his back was against the cave wall. He could see the dragon's teeth, as sharp as swords and gleaming white in the magical light. Drool was dripping out from his lips which were pulled up in an evil smile.

"Take off your clothes," Braxx hissed. "If I wanted to eat cotton, I'd go kill a sheep."

Peter shook his head. Maybe if he kept his clothes on, the dragon wouldn't eat him. Braxx rolled his eyes and snorted. Twin bursts of flame came from the beast's nose, singing Peter's blonde hair and igniting his clothes. With a cry, Peter pulled his smoldering shirt off before his skin was burned. Just as quickly, his pants came off, too. The only thing left on his body was his belt and pouch, leaving him naked before the dragon.

"Much better," Braxx purred. "Oh, how I love to eat hairless little boys like you! Do you have any idea how much body hair tickles my throat when I eat one of those hairy knights?"

Peter was too frightened to answer. It was pointless, even ridiculous under the circumstances, but he put his hands over his penis and testicles, covering the vulnerable little organs.

"Oh, don't be so silly!" Braxx snapped. Move your hands at ounce or I'll toast you alive. I prefer my food raw, but I'll cook you if you don't let me get a good look at you."

Hypnotized by the dragon's voice and eyes, Peter moved his hands.

"Splendid!" Braxx crowed. "Oh, I think I would trade half my treasure to only eat beautiful little boys like you from now until the rest of my days. Breakfast and lunch on the same day! I can't imagine what may show up for supper!"

Peter didn't quite understand that, but it was the last thing he was worried about. Braxx opened his mouth, and stuck out his tongue. Much to Peter's surprise, the dragon's tongue wasn't like his or most animals; instead it looked more like a snake's tongue with a fork at the end. Held immobile by the dragon's gaze, Peter stood as the hot, wet tongue, touched him on the chest, running all over his immature muscles and down his arms. The dragon continued to lick him, now moving to his ankles and up his legs. When his lower legs were coated with Braxx's saliva, the tongue moved to his inner thighs and then when up and behind, tasting the skin of his bare bottom. The dragon was using his tongue to force his clenched cheeks open, and he felt the damp, spongy flesh scrape over his boy hole. He shivered in a feeling somewhere between sheer terror and unexpected pleasure. Incredibly, the dragon's attentions had given him a boner. He looked down and saw his pre-pubescent cock sticking straight out from above his tight little balls and hairless mound.

"Oh, so much better that those sweaty, hairy-assed knights!" Braxx said as he withdrew his tongue, "Now, for the best part!"

The dragon sent out his tongue again, this time licking Peter's tummy, moving downward to the bald patch above his little boner. Braxx split the fork of his tongue as he licked down, leaving the hard boymeat for the moment and instead slurping on Peter's wrinkled little scrotum. Then he moved again, wrapping the tips of his tongue around the shaft of Peter's cock. The boy gasped. The dragon still held him under his spell, now not just with his eyes and voice, but with tortuous pleasure. His legs were locked in place, and he could not move a muscle as the dragon had his way with him. The heat from the beast's breath was causing him so perspire and his sweat mixed with the dragon's saliva as it dripped down his body. The dragon's tongue was all over him now, one tip had slipped back to his bottom and was exploring the crack and the other covering every exposed part of his dick. Peter felt an unfamiliar feeling building in his loins and he started to make high-pitched cries. Fear of what the dragon was doing to him was mixed with this frightening pleasure. Rapidly the feelings built and all of a sudden they crested. Peter cried out and his knees gave way. He fell forward, landing in a heap in front of the dragon's face. Braxx probed the head of his now softening penis for a moment and then again withdrew.

"Too young to shoot, I see," he said, "A pity. A boy like you would have sweet juice, indeed. Oh well, time for the main course."

Once again the tongue came out, this time encircling Peter's body and pulling it forward. Now the spell was broken and Peter screamed, beating his fists helplessly against the moist, rubbery meat as the dragon reeled him in. Braxx opened his mouth and pulled the boy in. Peter tried to grab the monster's upper lip, but missed. In desperation, he gripped an incisor. But the edge of the tooth was sharp, Peter cut his hands and he was unable to hold on. Braxx brought his jaws together and Peter found himself in the dark. Panic overcame him as he felt the dragon's throat start to work. His feet were sliding down the monster's gullet and he flailed around, trying desperately to find something to hold on to. But it was no use, the inside of the dragon's mouth was too slippery. Bit by bit, Peter sank into the throat. His bottom and penis slid down the slimy, constricting tunnel and then his chest and finally his head. He was pinned and could do nothing as he felt the fleshy walls of the dragon's throat surrounding him on every side. There was a slippery drop that felt like it went on forever and then Peter came to rest on the rubbery bottom of the dragon's stomach. With his arms free again, the started thrashing about. Much to his horror, something started thrashing back. Terrified beyond all reason, Peter kicked and punched, trying to defeat this unseen monster. But even with an adrenaline rush, he was overcome and found himself pinned down. Just when he thought he'd had all the shocks, the creature in the dark spoke.

"Stop it, stop hitting me!" it said.

All the strength went out of Peter's body as he lay there helpless and bewildered.

"What are you?"

"I'm a boy," the other answered, "Just like you."

"I don't believe you."

"Well, touch me and you'll see I'm telling the truth," came the reply. Peter noticed that his right arm had been released and warily he moved it upwards until it encountered solid flesh.

"That's my knee," the other said.

Peter moved his hand further. It encountered what seemed to be the smooth thigh of a boy. But Peter still didn't quite trust his senses so he continued his exploration. Up the thigh he went and then over slightly. Sure enough, there was a rubbery penis nestled above two hard orbs. He squeezed the other boy's cock and balls gently, assuring himself that they were real.

"Do you believe me, now?" the boy asked.

"Yes," Peter said, "How did you get here?"

"The dragon ate me, just like you. I've been in here since this morning. At least, I think it's still today, I can't tell."

"Oh, that's what he meant when he said he had breakfast. What's your name?"

"It's Richard. Umm, look, you holding me like that feels nice, but you're squeezing a bit hard. Could you let go, now?"

With a start, Peter realized that he was still holding the other boy's genitals. He released them and sat up as Richard let him go.

"My name's Peter," he said.

"I know. I could hear you talking to the dragon. It sounds weird hearing things from the inside, but I understood everything. He did to you what he did to me, didn't he?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, he made you take off your clothes and he played with your thingy before he swallowed you."

"Yes," Peter admitted, blushing in the dark, "He did that to you, too?"

"Yep. I've had one or two people touch me there before, but that was the strangest sensation I've ever had."

"Can we get out of here, somehow?" Peter asked. Now that he'd survived being swallowed whole, he was beginning to recover his hope. He was also noticing that there was a very faint light in here. It seemed that the dragon's stomach went right against his rib cage at one point, and the skin was thin enough there to let it a bit of illumination. He could just barely make out Richard's silhouette

"Were trapped," Richard said, dashing his newfound hope. "I already tried to climb back up the throat, but it can't be done. If he had a sword or something, we could try to cut our way out, but we don't have one. I guess that's why he made us get naked before he ate us."

Peter leaned back, defeated. Despair threatened to overcome him. Had he been alone, he would have cried, but he didn't want to do that in front of a boy he just met.

"Don't stay there," Richard warned him, "That's where the dragon's fire comes from. See?"

The other boy moved Peter's hand and he felt an opening just below the monster's throat. He could feel the scorching heat inside.

"I've seen him blow fire a couple of times from the inside," Richard explained. "It comes out of that hole and up his throat. The first time it nearly burned my bottom off."

"It's already so hot in here I can hardly stand it," Peter said. "It's as if I'm being cooked alive over a slow flame."

"I think that's kind of the idea," Richard said. "Just before he ate me, the dragon told me that after a couple of days in his stomach, I'd be nice and tender and then he could digest me. He said--"

The boy's voice broke and then he started sobbing. Knowing that he was going to die in this dark prison, Peter started to cry to. Reaching out in the dark, the two bawling boys held each other tightly, holding on to the one source of comfort they could find. Gradually, their crying subsided, but still they held on to each other. Peter became aware that his penis was pressed up against the other boy's and noticed that it was far from unpleasant. Richard's hands were slipping down Peter's sweaty back and he was worried that the other boy was going to let go, but then he found the hands firmly grabbing his plump bottom, prying the cheeks apart.

"What are you doing?" he asked in a tight voice.

"Something," Richard replied as he moved his hands ever deeper into Peter's cleft. He felt the other boy put a finger against his tight backdoor and then it penetrated.

"If the dragon can do it, so can we," Richard said. "Didn't it feel kind of good?"

"Yea," Peter admitted as the other boy probed his insides.

"Then do me, too," Richard encouraged.

Slowly, carefully, Peter moved his hand's over the other boy's bum. Richard's cheeks weren't quite as plump and round as Peter's were; they were thinner and a bit more muscular. Because the two boys were covered not only with sweat, but also the slick juices from the dragon, his hands had no problem sliding where they wanted to go. He found Richard's entrance and pressed his middle finger against the puckered hole. It slid in and the other boy responded by pressing his middle tighter against Peter. Peter realized that they both had hard-on's and that Richard's was a little bigger than his.

After a bit of mutual exploration, Richard opened Peter wider and stuck a second finger in and then a third. Peter sensed that the other boy was building up to something, but didn't know what.

"Turn around," Richard said, "I want to stick something else inside you."

"What?" Peter wondered. Richard didn't answer in words, instead he took Peter's free hand and put it on his hard cock.

"That," he said as Peter squeezed it. Because Peter had spent most of his young life helping his father in the shop, he'd never had another boy for a close friend. What Richard was suggesting was something that would have never occurred to him. All the same, it excited him and he realized that he didn't have anything left to loose.

"O.K.," he said. Richard took him by the shoulders and spun him around. He felt the heat from the other boy's hard meat probing its way between his cheeks up against his virgin anus. There was more pressure applied and then the Richard slipped in.

"It feels so good," Richard said as he slid himself in deeper. Peter would have agreed but he was speechless. Not only was Richard penetrating him, but he'd reached around and taken hold of his stiff cock. As he filled Peter up, he pumped his meat, making a fist over the engorged head. Peter leaned forward against the dragon's stomach wall and let the other boy have his way. The deep thrusting caused his whole body to tingle and the stroking on his dick was making him feel weak. Richard was moaning as their hot bodies slid together and their hips collided. Peter was being held tightly now, Richard's sweaty chest was pressed against his back. The other boy picked up the pace, both the relentless stoking of Peter's penis and the deep thrusts of Richard's hard cock up his ass. Peter cried out as orgasm overtook him, instinctively clenching his bottom while his hairless dick pulsed in Richard's fist. He heard Richard gasp and felt his dick throbbing deep inside his bowels. Richard let go and they came apart.

"I always wanted to try that," Richard said breathlessly. "At least that's one thing I can say I've done."

"You never did that with anyone before?"

"No. I knew some of the boys at the orphanage did it, but I never got up the nerve to ask anyone."

"You were in an orphanage?"

"Yea, that's where I lived until I escaped last week. I guess I'd have done better to stay. Say, I don't guess you have anything to eat in that pouch of yours, do you? I'd rather die with a full stomach if I can."

"What pouch?"

"You know, that pouch on your belt. I felt it while I was, you know, doing it to you."

"Oh. You know, I forgot I still had it on." Peter opened the pouch and reached in, wondering if there might be a blackberry or two stashed away. Instead he felt the spool of unbreakable thread and a ghostly voice surfaced in his memory.


He also felt the package his father had sent him for and an idea started to form in his mind.

"Richard, you said you saw the dragon breath fire more than once?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. Twice before you came and once when he was trying to make you get naked."

"Why did he do it the first two times?"

"I don't know, he just did. Maybe he has to let off steam every so often. What does it matter?"

"Well, suppose he couldn't do it?"

"What are you talking about?" Richard wondered if his new friend hadn't started to loose his mind.

"Let me show you." Peter opened the package for his father and took out the biggest needle of the bunch. Then he threaded it with the minstrel's thread. That took a bit of doing in the dim light, but he managed it. He went over to the source of the dragon's flame and started to sew the hole shut. Richard saw what he was doing and moved to help, holding the flaps of flesh together over the hole. Quickly they stitched, pulling the thread tighter.

Now Braxx had a very tough inside. He'd had victims try to kick or punch him from the inside and it never hurt. One resourceful fellow had managed to hold on to a dagger and had tried cutting him open. That had hurt a bit; Braxx had spit fire and then swallowed it back, cooking the idiot. He felt the two boys doing something, but he didn't know what. However, it tickled. Braxx did not care to be tickled. Deciding that it was time to fly these two little morsels once and for all, he expanded his lungs. It was when he tried to expel his flame that he realized something was wrong. Unaware that the two boys had completely sealed the passage that let his flame out, he tried in vain to vomit the flames that he had just built up. It didn't work, and his chest expanded as the fire looked for a way to go. Braxx felt a moment of blinding pain and then his chest ripped open and his heart exploded. The fireball shot out, bursting against the roof of the cave, knocking stones loose and sending a hail of rocks down on the dying dragon.

From inside the monster's belly, Peter and Richard knew none of this. They had heard the dragon cry out and were pressed against the rear of his stomach when his chest swelled up. They had closed their eyes in fear and missed the explosion. Now they opened them. The dragon's bones kept the carcass from collapsing completely and they saw the ragged opening. They crawled toward it, ignoring the blood and bile as they made their way to freedom. Peter got out first and Richard was right behind him. The whole cavern was rumbling and more rocks were crashing down from the ceiling. Richard ran over to the side and pulled a small lever in the wall.

"We have to go!" he shouted.

Peter looked around in a panic. His clothes were burnt and he could carry very little in his hands and pouch. He hadn't come all this way and gone through all that to leave empty handed. He spied the chest the dragon had kept by his head and ran over to it. Grabbing the handles, he found he could not quite lift it.

"Help me!" he shouted to Richard.

Dodging falling stones, the other boy ran back and took hold of one end. Between the two of them, they picked it up and scrambled over the coins toward the exit.

"That way's blocked!" Peter cried.

"No, it's not! I opened it with the lever."

They made it to the passage and Peter saw that Richard was right. The roaring sound increased and they hurried down the dim corridor. Behind them they heard a thundering crash and the air was filled with dust, causing them to choke. The cavern collapsed, burying the dead dragon and his treasure under thousands of tons of solid rock With the magical light gone, the passage was plunged into near darkness and the two boys slowed down, having to find their way by the dim light of the moss. They did not stop, not even when they got to the mouth of the cave. They pressed on, carefully navigating the mossy floor among the stalagmites. Only when they were clear of the cave and several hundred feet down from it did they stop and sit down.

"I can't believe we're alive," Richard said as he panted.

"Me neither." For the first time, Peter had a chance to look at his new friend. The other boy was slightly taller than Peter and his hair and eyebrows were jet black. His green eyes were alight with a hint of mischief.

"Do you want to see what's in this chest?" Richard asked.

"Not yet, let's get further away, first."

The two boys took their burden up again and made their way down the mountain. Going downhill made it easy and an hour before sunset, they found a spring at the foot of the peak.

"Let's camp here," Peter suggested and Richard agreed. The dark-haired boy had no idea of how to set up a camp and so Peter had to tell him what to do. While looking for firewood, they made a lucky find. There was an apple tree covered with vines. There were not many fruit on it, but enough to put a sizable dent in their hunger. Peter lit the fire and then they sat back to talk. Peter told his story first and then Richard took over.

He'd been an orphan all his life, growing up in an orphanage in the city. It had not been a fun life, but Richard had known it would be worse on the streets. Recently, however, the Master of the orphanage had taken to selling some of the older boys for slave labor. Richard knew that it would be just a matter of time for him, so he fled, preferring to take his chances. He left the city; the watch would have taken him back to the orphanage if they had found him. Unfortunately, he was not used to the wilderness. He'd lost the trail and wandered around. Finding the dragon's cave by chance, he wandered in looking for shelter. Of course, he'd wound up inside the belly of the beast, but now thanks to Peter, he was safe.

"Why don't you come live with me?" Peter suggested. "With this treasure, I'm sure we'll be able to pay the tax."

"Really! Oh, that would be great!" Richard said, beaming. He'd always wanted a proper home and now it looked like he might get one.

"Let's look at the treasure," Peter suggested. Richard eagerly agreed and they worked at the latch of the chest. At first, they could not seem to find the catch, but then Richard turned a knob and it sprung open. With trembling hands, they opened the lid and looked inside.

"Wow!" Peter said as he looked down and the box full of treasure. A pair of jeweled daggers lay on top of a heap of cut stones. They reached in, finding finely wrought gold objects, decorated with diamonds and rubies.

"We're rich," Richard said as they examined the treasure. They ran their fingers though the stones, sifting though the glittering gems. For long minutes they looked at the treasure in silent wonder, but eventually they tired of it. They took out the two daggers and closed the box back.

"I feel gross," Peter said running his hands over his skin.

"So am I. I'm so sticky from the dragon. Why don't we clean off in the steam?"

"It'll be so cold," Peter protested. Both boys were still naked and had no clothes to put on.

"We can warm up by the fire afterwards," Richard pointed out.

Peter really felt that he could wait until morning, but when Richard got up, he followed him. The water was icy cold, and his penis and testicles shrunk against his body as he cleaned the mess off his skin. When they were done, they ran back to the fire. Huddling together, they sat as close to the flames as they dared. Gradually, they warmed up and relaxed. Richard leaned back and spread his legs and Peter asked him why.

"He's cold," Richard said, playing with his penis. "I want to get him warm again."

Peter shrugged and spread his legs as well. He had to admit that the warmth on his naked penis and balls felt very good. He looked over at Richard and saw that the other boy's prick had gotten bigger, and not all of it could be accounted for by simple heat. His own member was beginning to stir as he gazed at Richard in all his naked glory. In the firelight, he could see that Richard's dick and balls were darker than his own. Even though the other boy's equipment was slightly larger than Peter's, he was just as hairless. Richard took hold of himself and started to stroke his growing member. Entranced, Peter did the same. After a minute or so of this, both boys were fully hard. Richard pressed his flank up against Peter and moved his hand over to the other boy's penis. Peter moved his hand, letting Richard take control. The other boy explored him, cupping his little testicles and running his fingers over his inner thighs before returning to Peter's engorged penis. As Richard began to stroke him, Peter moved to return the favor. It was a bit awkward; Peter was left-handed and had to reach over himself to get at Richard.

"Here, let's lie like this," Richard suggested, turning on his side in the warm, soft grass. Peter copied him and they resumed massaging each other's meat. As they continued their intimate touching, the two boys looked deep into each other's eyes. Peter gazed into Richard's green eyes and saw the soul of a lonely boy, one who could never remember being loved by anybody. He could read the dispair and hopelessness that had dwelled there, covered only by a thin, hard shell. Up to this point in his life, the only person who Peter had truly loved was his father, but he found he had much more left to give. He had come as near to death as he could have ever imagined. Somehow, he had been given another chance. As he ran his fingers over Richard's plump cockhead he opened his heart fully, embracing the other boy with his love.

Richard was looking back into Peter's blue eyes. In the orphanage, he'd never had a close friend; having a friend made you vulnerable and that wasn't something you could afford in that place. The boy's he'd lived with were more like fellow soldiers, comrades perhaps, but never freinds. When he left, there was no one left behind who he would miss. After being eaten by the dragon, he figured that his life was over. It hadn't been much of a life, but how he'd wanted to go on living! Peter, with his wit and thread had rescued him from the monster's belly. Now he was offering him an emotional rescue, offering not only his home, but his heart. All this he could see in looking into Peter's sparkling eyes. The only question was, could he accept it? It was so hard: for all his life he'd held back, giving nothing of himself. If he joined with Peter and became part of his family, he would be vulnerable to the hurts that can sometimes come with that. But if he rejected the other boy's offer, he would be alone again, no better off than before. Sure, he would have his share of the treasure, but what would that be worth? He was wise enough to know that money did not make a person happy. No, he told himself, take a chance. He locked eyes with Peter and jumped into those shimmering pools of blue.

"I want you to do it to me," he whispered to his new soul mate, offering his body as well as his heart.

Peter had watched the other boy during all of that. He'd seen the very moment when Richard had cracked out of his shell because two small tears had formed in the corner of his eyes. He moved his hands and embraced him, pressing their young, naked bodies tightly together. Peter realized what Richard wanted him to do, but he forsaw a slight problem.

"Richard, we don't have anything to make things slippery," he pointed out. Richard paused for a moment and then spoke again.

"Yes we do."

Peter was about to ask what he was taking about when the other boy slipped out of his embrace. He shifted his body around so that his head was down by Peter's middle. Much to his surprise, he felt the unmistakable feeling of Richard's tongue on his throbbing cock. It was so different to what the dragon had felt like. Richard's tongue was softer for one thing, and the dragon hadn't sucked on it the way the other boy was now. Richard had put the head in his mouth and was slurping down the shaft, covering it with his saliva. Peter noticed that Richard's own cock was staring him right in the face. It was close enough and he decided to give it an experimental lick. The skin was clean from the mountain stream and Peter daringly moved his lips on to it. He ran his tongue down the underside of the shaft, licking the base and the deep tan balls. Opening his mouth again, he found he could swallow the whole thing down to the hairless base, and he sucked up and down on it, feeling it probe the back of his throat.

Richard, meanwhile, had slobbered all over his dick and now moved off it. With a big or regret, Peter let go of Richard's boyhood while the other boy moved onto his hands and knees.

"Do it to me, Peter," Richard urged, "Put it up me."

Peter needed no other prompting. He scooted over on his knees and held Richard's cheeks open with his hand. Maneuvering his slimy cock against Richard's boy hole, he started to press it forward. Sensing that it wanted to slip away, he held it firm with his hand and continued to press. Gradually, Richard's body surrendered and opened to him and his head slipped inside. After that it was easy, he eased forward while his plump shaft sunk deeper inside the other boy. When it was all the way in, he reached down and found Richard's dangling erection and balls. He played with them as he started to move his hips back and forth, probing Richard and making the other boy squeal in delight. Because of their lengthy foreplay and tender ages, it did not take long. Peter felt his balls draw up even tighter than usual as his feelings grew. He increased his pace, bucking frantically as orgasm overtook him. Richard's cock was spasming in his hand, his bottom clenching down on Peter's meat as his own orgasm crested. Peter waited until his dick was done pulsing inside Richard and then withdrew it. The two boys lay on their sides and embraced silently.

"Ah, young love, surely worthy of the finest ballad!" a voice rang out. Peter and Richard sprung to their feet in shock and fear, Richard unsheathing one of the daggers.

"Oh, put those away," came the voice again, "You have nothing to fear from me and besides two naked boys with a couple of knives wouldn't be much threat to me."

Out of the trees came a hooded figure. When he fully entered the clearing, he threw the hood of his cloak back. In the flickering firelight, Peter recognized the bard from the night before.

"Galen!" he said.

"Well met, young Peter," the minstrel said. "I see you have survived your encounter with the dragon and managed to acquire a precious treasure in the process."

Peter looked at the chest, but Galen's voice broke in again.

"That wasn't the treasure I meant, lad. Surely you do not value money as highly as friendship and love?"

Peter blushed and for a moment felt ashamed. He knew if he'd had to chose between leaving Richard or the treasure, he'd have taken Richard. He shouldn't have needed to bard to point that out to him.

"Are you not going to introduce us? I can't believe that the dragon took away your good manners."

"Um, Richard, this is Galen, the man I told you about. The one who gave me the thread. Galen, this is Richard. He helped me get away from the dragon. I'm taking him home to live with me and my father."

Galen nodded to Richard, acknowledging him fully for the first time.

"Are you ready for a new life?" he asked the boy.

"Yes," Richard whispered. The man's appearance had startled him, and he could sense something about the man. Nothing bad, but all was not as it seemed.

"So you put my thread to good use, then," the bard asked Peter.

"Yes, but how did you know I would need it? How did you even know I had a needle?"

"Would you believe it was a lucky guess?" Galen asked with a chuckle. Both boys shook their heads.

"Smart lads. This may clear things up a bit." Galen waved his hand and the air around him shimmered. His clothes, which had appeared worn and tattered suddenly were fine robes. His walking stick became a long staff with a gleaming golden handle. The only thing that did not change was his face, but behind the wrinkled eyes and bushy beard Peter and Richard detected a sharp, brilliant mind.

"You're a wizard!" Richard said, figuring it out first.

"At your service," Galen said, bowing to the ground. Since you offered me the hospitality of your camp last night, the least I could was give you a gift and implant a suggestion as to how it might be used. But Peter, it was your bravery and courage that overcame the dragon. And Richard, in many ways what you have done was even braver. You have had to overcome your fear to accept love. You two are heroes in every sense of the word."

"Thank you," Peter said, grateful for the words as much as the thread. "What can we do to repay you?"

"You have already paid in full," the minstrel turned magician said. "You offered me your hospitality and food last night and gave me permision to write a song about you. As long as young Richard here also extends his leave for me to compose my song about you two, all will be even."

"Oh, yes, anything. Without Peter and your thread, I'd be dead now," Richard said.

"Well, lads, enough is enough. Much as I'd like to stay and camp with you, don't you think you should be getting back to your father? He must be very worried by now."

"But it's dark," Peter protested. "We'd loose our way."

"I think I can help you there," Galen said. He turned and whistled into the dark. Out of the shadows a tall, black horse appeared.

"Nightwind will be happy to take you home. All you have to do is climb on his back. He knows the way. Oh, and one other thing--" Galen rummaged around in his bag and brought out two bundles of cloth. "You two should probably get dressed. While your bodies are fine to look at, I'm afraid the cool night air would not be comfortable on your naked skin."

The two boys took the clothes from the wizard and put them on. They were fine cotton tunics, both sturdy and warm.

"I don't know how to ride," Richard said as the two boys approached the big stallion.

"Nightwind wont let you fall," Galen said. "Peter, you get in front and let Richard hold on to you. You will be going very fast, but do not worry. You will reach home safely."

With a boost from the magician, Peter got up on the horse's back, followed by Richard. The other boy was clearly nervous about having this powerful creature between his legs and he held Peter tightly. Galen picked up the chest and put it inside a sack.

"That should make things a bit lighter," he said as he secured it to the horse's side behind Richard. "When you get home and dismount, take the chest out of the sack and rest it across Nightwind's back. He'll bring it back to me."

"Won't you even take some of the treasure?" Richard asked. "I'll give up all my share and Peter can keep his."

"No, lad. I have all the money I ever need. Thank you for asking, though."

"Will we ever see you again?" Peter asked.

"Perhaps, lad, perhaps. Now be off with you!"

Galen slapped Nightwind on the flank and the stallion lurched forward. Richard yelled in surprise and squeezed Peter even tighter. The night was dark and the two boys could barely see the ground passing beneath the horse's hooves. The wind chilled their faces and they were very glad for the warmth of the tunics as well as each other's bodies. They lost all sense of time, the ride seemed both brief and eternal. All the same, Peter was surprised when the stallion slowed to a trot and then stopped all together. In front of him, he could see a familiar silhouette against the starry sky. There was no mistaking it, Nightwind had brought him right to his father's house.

"We're here," he told Richard as he slipped of the horse's back. Nightwind wasn't even breathing hard and he had crossed in a brief time what had taken Peter a day and a half on foot. He helped Richard down and then untied the sack. As Galen had instructed, he took the chest out of the sack and rested it on Nightwind. The stallion knickered softly and then melted away into the night.

"Well, shall we go in?" Peter said.

"Wait," Richard said, taking hold of Peter's arm with his hand. "What if your father doesn't like me?"

"He'll like you fine," Peter reassured him, "And you'll like him. Come along, this is your home now, too."

Picking up the chest, the two boys went over to the kitchen door. It was latched, just as it was every night, but Peter put down the chest and knocked. The door opened and warm light spilled out onto the two boys. In a moment there was a delighted cry.

"Peter! Oh, my darling boy, I've been so worried!"

Peter's father rushed out and held his son in a warm embrace. Peter hugged him back, but didn't want his friend to be left out.

"Father, this is my friend Richard. I wouldn't be here if not for his help. I told him he could stay with us."

Peter's father would have never turned away someone in need and so he opened his arms wider and drew the other boy in as well.

"Come in, come in," he said. "Where have you been?"

"Wait father, we have something for you," Peter said. The two boys lifted the chest inside and the man shut the door. They put it on the table and opened it. Peter heard his father gasp as he caught sight of the riches inside."

Sit down, father, we have a long story to tell you," Peter said.

And so Peter's father was able to pay his tax. Not only that, but he and the two boys went around the town the next night and slipped a bag of five gold pieces under every door in town so that all of their neighbors could pay as well. The Governor was surprised that everyone had paid; he'd hoped to seize some properties, but there was nothing he could do about it. Later that year, the King called on him to serve in a minor border skirmish and he was killed by and enemy arrow. The next Governor was a fair man who imposed no harsh taxes.

Peter's father used a little of their treasure to expand his shop. He employed dozens of people and soon was producing the finest garments in the land. People came from far and wide to buy his clothes. And when the King's only daughter married, he was asked to come to the capital to make the princess's wedding dress.

As for Peter and Richard, they did as boys do. All their worries were taken care of; they lived in a fine house and never again knew want. Theirs was a happy family, full of warmth and love. The feelings that had drawn them together physically in the dragon's belly grew as they did, blossoming into the purest love in the land. All it can be said with all truth that they lived happily ever after.

The End

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