Plin Ch 4.5

Snow crunched underfoot on the grass. The sub-zero temperatures had frozen the softly falling snow.

The feeling of solid ground was welcome after a flight of just over an hour. Plin slid down the dragon’s back like a slide. Once on the ground, he stumbled a few times before finding his balance.

In the middle of the snowy field, the mansion stood solitary and majestic. The moss on the stone walls, visible even from afar, hinted at its age. The sharp spires that took the place of a roof were also intriguing. It resembled a rural castle he had visited on a middle school field trip.

“Where is this place?”

Plin, craning his neck to look up at the mansion, suddenly turned around.

“Ah…”

The crouched beast was in the process of transforming into a human.

The shoulder blades morphed into the bones of arms, and the area connecting the wing struts to the body hollowed out to become armpits. The scale-covered torso curved and bent, and in place of scales, a man’s abdomen with sculpted abs emerged. What were unmistakably beastly claws shrank into neat human fingernails, and the beast’s legs grew long like bamboo shoots in the rainy season, from thick thighs to ankles with defined Achilles tendons. While he was watching the fluid transformation, the dragon’s horns had disappeared without a trace.

Hugo shook his head once. His black hair, damp with the evening breeze and moisture, was tousled.

“A vacation home. Hence, as you can see.”

Now in the perfect form of a human, he was, naturally, naked.

Hugo walked ahead barefoot. Plin’s gaze followed the straight line of his spine from his shoulders, which were sculpted with muscle. With each step, the gluteal muscles connected to his thighs visibly contracted and relaxed. Even from behind, the enormous size of his genitals was clearly evident between his legs.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen a naked body, but it was after witnessing that this human flesh hid the internal organs of a dragon.

Plin lowered his ears, feeling a sense of tension, and followed Hugo closely. His heavy, fur-covered tail hung low, swaying gently.

The interior of the aged mansion was decorated in a modern style. The fingerprint recognition system at the entrance was a surprise. The Nordic-patterned carpet muffled the sound of footsteps. Ironically, this made their breathing seem louder.

Silently following Hugo, Plin occasionally stole glances between his legs, secretly shuddering at the thought of whether that length and girth were truly possible.

“Your fingers.”

“Yes?”

“Give them to me.”

Hugo suddenly asked, as if a pressing thought had just occurred to him, before they even reached the bedroom.

“W-What?”

“I’ll lick them.”

He held out his large hand. Hugo’s requests were always abrupt. Plin placed his injured right hand on the man’s palm. Their hands interlocked like hooks, similar to a wedding vow.

Hugo raised Plin’s injured fingers to the light, examining them with his fingertips. The hallway lighting was dim, with only indirect, off-white light on the walls, but the wounds were still vivid. The fingernails were small, and those small nails were covered in scratches, their ends frayed, with dried blood, making them look terrible.

Hugo frowned and clicked his tongue. He showed a hint of displeasure, but then lowered his head and gently took four of Plin’s fingers, excluding the thumb, into his mouth. Without using his tongue, he softly enveloped the area around the fingernails with his upper and lower lips.

“Heal quickly.”

He mumbled, his lips still around Plin’s fingers. A hot breath passed between the fingers. Seeing Plin’s unease, Hugo narrowed his eyes and smiled. Then, his lower lip muscle moved upwards, causing the fingernails to bump against his teeth.

Plin let out a silent sigh.

Acrophobia, the fear when facing a wild beast, and now, what was this? What kind of fear was making his heart pound so painfully?

Hugo diligently licked the dried blood from Plin’s fingernails. It didn’t feel like he was probing the wounds. Rather, it was more like pressing down on the surface of the wounds to close them. Nevertheless, a stinging pain spread, and Plin breathed deeply, groaning.

“Ugh…”

Hugo looked up. He scrutinized Plin like a specimen on a microscope slide. He took in the furrowed brow, the teary eyes, the trembling ears, and the pale, outstretched hand.

Even then, the red flesh continued its rhythmic movement in and out.

“You were scared.”

Hugo now kissed each finger one by one. The cold-hardened fingers were briefly enveloped in the warmth of his mouth before being released.

“Yes. Very…”

“We need to treat this properly.”

His face, as serene as a porcelain doll, showed no emotion. Hugo released the damp hand and turned around.

Plin followed him awkwardly.

He had almost been kidnapped. The normalcy he had taken for granted was shattered in an instant when a group of organized thugs appeared. If he hadn’t been able to resist when they tried to shove him into the car, if Hugo hadn’t shown up in time, it was hard to imagine what kind of hell he would be in now.

Looking back, he felt his legs weaken, as if he might collapse. Plin forced himself to put strength into his legs and walked. Most of the muscles in his body felt limp, but his heart muscle alone was pounding fiercely.

The room was elegant. The ceiling was high, and the light from the branch-like chandelier was soft. Next to the main lights, track lighting, like those used on theater stages, hung unlit.

“This is my room.”

“I see…”

Plin couldn’t help but look around, forgetting his manners. The spacious room, large enough to fit four of Plin’s houses, had four different walls.

The wall against which the headboard rested was a dark brown wood. Decorated with square reliefs, it was old-fashioned to the point of being imposing and also exuded an ascetic atmosphere.

The gray sound-absorbing wall on the left was something he had seen while working part-time cleaning a grand theater. Although the soft material looked cozy, it also felt out of place. This was natural since he had only ever lived in houses with wallpaper over cement walls.

Another wall was adorned with a massive black-and-white painting. It looked like someone had accidentally spilled a bucket of black paint. Instead of profound artistic value, the first thought that came to mind was that it must have been tiring to lift the paint bucket so high. He felt that if he were provided with the materials, he could create a similar painting through sheer labor.

Still, being displayed in such a room, it did seem to have some kind of charm. Plin tilted his head, observing the painting.

“Is this kind of interior to your taste?”

“…I don’t know about taste, but it all looks expensive, so it’s fascinating.”

Plin answered honestly to the sudden question.

“I see.”

Hugo led Plin, who couldn’t keep his head still, to the bed and sat him down.

Plin sat still as he was told. He felt like he was leaving a stain just by sitting on the unused, stiff bed.

“Bear with it even if it’s uncomfortable.”

Hugo took out various bandages from the first-aid box, laid them out on the bed, and knelt. Plin waited patiently for treatment.

He seemed not to feel cold despite being naked. His skin was smooth, without a single goosebump. He didn’t seem to be ashamed of his nudity either.

Plin stole glances at the taut pectoralis major, the light brown areola, and the rugged shoulder made of muscle and bone. Following the valleys of the voluminous rib cage, his gaze moved to the tightly packed abs, resembling dragon scales, in the center of his abdomen. Plin’s eyes followed wherever the light flowed. It was a way to endure the awkwardness.

However, he couldn’t dare to look below the navel. Plin instead looked down at his own hands on his lap.

Hugo squeezed a thick layer of antibiotic ointment onto Plin’s fingers. The reddish hue showed through the transparent gel. He then focused on wrapping all ten fingers with bandages.

The tightly wrapped fingertips were already starting to feel damp, uncomfortable, and itchy.

“Do we really need to wrap them so tightly?”

Plin protested softly. Hugo examined all ten fingers visually and selected a few to press three or four times. The tight wrapping dulled the sensation, making the pain disappear. Only after confirming that Plin wasn’t in much pain did he close the first-aid box.

Plin looked down at Hugo’s muscular thighs, and his gaze landed on the monstrous bulge in his groin. He quickly averted his eyes, pretending not to have seen it, but Hugo asked.

“Any other injuries?”

“No.”

Plin shook his head. His large, drooping ears fluttered.

“Then, shall we have s*x?”

“…What?”

Hugo smiled.

“You’ve been blatantly looking over my body since a while ago.”

His voice, barely above a whisper, wasn’t accusatory. Nevertheless, Plin, embarrassed at being caught staring, blurted out an excuse.

“It’s just, you’re naked, so it’s in my sight…”

“I’ll suck you off. Stand up.”

“Ah, I…”

Before he could say anything, Hugo reached for Plin’s zipper. It was difficult to pull down because of the friction of the fabric as he was sitting with his legs together.

“Ah!”

He slid his palm under Plin’s b*ttocks and groped his flesh like a pervert. Plin, as if electrocuted, jumped and lifted his hips off the bed. It was exactly what Hugo wanted.

Ziiiip, the sound of his pants being unzipped was loud. He hooked his fingers and pulled down the pants. With the pants gathered around his ankles, all that remained on his lower body were white underwear and white socks.

Red and blue bruises were spreading on his knees. Mwah, mwah, Hugo kissed each knee alternately. His hot breath on his kneecaps made his legs tremble. He was already having a hard time standing. Plin placed his hands on Hugo’s shoulders to support himself.

He hooked his fingers on the waistband of the underwear and pulled it down. Thump, the fleshy shaft that popped out bumped against Hugo’s lips.

“Ah… wait…”

“Why…”

Hugo rubbed his face against Plin’s thighs. The sound of dry skin rubbing together was clear.

It was a pestering gesture, but it was Plin who was restless. The firm bridge of his nose pressed against the soft, sensitive inner thighs, making his knees weak. Plin’s half-erect c*ck quivered, buried in Hugo’s soft black hair.