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Summer, Twelfth Year of the Xin Zhuo Emperor
Morha was having none of it.
It was bad enough that she was forced to parade around for a bunch of drunk humans who would ogle at her as some sort of celebration, but to wear the ridiculous getup-a silver chain-linked coat with cadmium tassels and a polished leather shaffron with a bright red feather on top-that was too much!
Sima the horse trainer was exasperated as he pulled back on the dragon’s reins. “Please, Zhihuan. We’ve gone over this a dozen times. Just circle the audience, kneel, and you’ll be done with it. Lord Buzhong will punish us both if you refuse.”
The mušḫuššu simply snorted in response and dug in her heels and legs, pulling back against the trainer.
The horse trainer cursed. He grabbed the crop, then thought better of it. Instead Sima tied Morha back down to a post, and left. A few minutes later, the trainer returned with a mortar and pedestal.
“Yuanhua states that this may help cool your heated ardor Zhihuan.” Sima laughed as he mashed some plants into a paste. “You should have obeyed.”
Walking behind the mušḫuššu he began applying the paste to the dragon’s hindquarters. Unable to respond, Morha shuffled around uneasily at the contact. At first she felt nothing, and was confused by the action.
Then, slowly, her buttocks began to sting. It was like her entire backside had touched the coldest icicle and it amplified until all she could feel was the cool burning sensation. With a yelp the purple dragon leapt into the air, dancing awkwardly as the pain coursed up from her hindquarters. Focused on the sting, Morha failed to realize that Sima had grabbed hold of her bridle and led her through two loops around the tracks. As the pain gradually wore off into an uncomfortable numbness, the purple dragon seethed at what had happened.
She glared at the horse trainer, who smiled back.
“Now you'll make a good show for the folks at the party. Listen, and things will be easier for you.”
Morha still refused to listen, if only for the principle of the matter. Consequently she entered Lord Buzhong’s Gardens with her backside on fire, rocking and prancing like a frisky young filly as she was led along her circuit. With her feathered headgear and silver costume, it made for a ludicrous sight and the mušḫuššu burned with embarrassment as dozens, if not hundreds of guests watched her, laughing and cheering, some raising their wine cups in mocking toast.
The gardens were large and filled with wonders: stone gardens with scholar rocks the size of buildings towering overhead and tafoni pits as large as rooms, lakes filled with fishes and other creatures, some as large as Morha, pools of wine with spraying fountains, acres of trees bearing all kinds of strange and large fruit, some looking like meat. The purple dragon barely noticed them however, focused instead on the sea of high-class nobles and administrators, feasting and enjoying themselves taunting and teasing her as she passed by, demeaned and injured both in pride and on her hindquarter.
How she hated them all.
In the center of the gardens, sitting atop a gigantic multi-terraced gilded pavilion, sat the Celestial Emperor alongside Lord Buzhog, as well as the Emperor’s consorts, guards and Imperial entourage. As the mušḫuššu approached, the ruler of the center of the world noticed and beckoned her over.
“Oh, is that my pet, Zhihuan? Come, let the Emperor see you up close.”
Sima cursed under his breath but immediately obeyed orders, trotting his charge right up for their leader to observe.
Morha didn't notice until it was too late, and then she was staring up at the ruler of the land in his high placed throne. It was just a human, but it felt like all of Jiangshan was bearing down upon her.
The purple dragon shied away.
Sima tugged at the leash. “Bow to your master, Zhihuan.” There was no hint of conciliation, no willingness to humor. There was coldness, and the implicit threat of punishment-with the determination to follow through-if not obeyed. There was only obedience.
For once, the mušḫuššu was genuinely frightened.
With a sigh, Morha bowed.
“Such a beautiful, submissive beast. You are a good prize, Zhihuan.” The Emperor turned to the dragon’s trainer.
“Pet Zhihuan for me.”
Sima bowed. “I obey, my Emperor.”
The horse trainer then pet Morha.
The Emperor had already turned away from the figures below, focusing upon his ladies and ministers. “Now run along, Zhihuan I have important people to talk to.”
Sima bowed. “I obey, my Emperor.”
As he led Morha away the trainer muttered under his breath. “Good.”
The purple dragon also felt a wave of relief as the pair exited the gardens, the guards barely acknowledging them as they headed back to Lord Buzhong’s stables. The mušḫuššu had a feeling that, whatever Sima had planned for her punishment, the Emperor would do it ten times worse. Still as they continued onwards, the purple dragon felt nothing but shame at what had happened. She had caved in and behaved like a slave, all because she was scared.
Wouldn’t anyone be scared?
It’s just a human.
A human who at the wave of a hand, could make Morha’s life more of a miserable hell. She did not want that.
But she did want revenge for this.
The mušḫuššu didn't know how she would do it, but one day, she swore that she would get back at all of these fools.
One day.
Patti Page - [How Much Is That] Doggie In The Window
From
chickenzaur!
Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/59919767/
Morha was having none of it.
It was bad enough that she was forced to parade around for a bunch of drunk humans who would ogle at her as some sort of celebration, but to wear the ridiculous getup-a silver chain-linked coat with cadmium tassels and a polished leather shaffron with a bright red feather on top-that was too much!
Sima the horse trainer was exasperated as he pulled back on the dragon’s reins. “Please, Zhihuan. We’ve gone over this a dozen times. Just circle the audience, kneel, and you’ll be done with it. Lord Buzhong will punish us both if you refuse.”
The mušḫuššu simply snorted in response and dug in her heels and legs, pulling back against the trainer.
The horse trainer cursed. He grabbed the crop, then thought better of it. Instead Sima tied Morha back down to a post, and left. A few minutes later, the trainer returned with a mortar and pedestal.
“Yuanhua states that this may help cool your heated ardor Zhihuan.” Sima laughed as he mashed some plants into a paste. “You should have obeyed.”
Walking behind the mušḫuššu he began applying the paste to the dragon’s hindquarters. Unable to respond, Morha shuffled around uneasily at the contact. At first she felt nothing, and was confused by the action.
Then, slowly, her buttocks began to sting. It was like her entire backside had touched the coldest icicle and it amplified until all she could feel was the cool burning sensation. With a yelp the purple dragon leapt into the air, dancing awkwardly as the pain coursed up from her hindquarters. Focused on the sting, Morha failed to realize that Sima had grabbed hold of her bridle and led her through two loops around the tracks. As the pain gradually wore off into an uncomfortable numbness, the purple dragon seethed at what had happened.
She glared at the horse trainer, who smiled back.
“Now you'll make a good show for the folks at the party. Listen, and things will be easier for you.”
Morha still refused to listen, if only for the principle of the matter. Consequently she entered Lord Buzhong’s Gardens with her backside on fire, rocking and prancing like a frisky young filly as she was led along her circuit. With her feathered headgear and silver costume, it made for a ludicrous sight and the mušḫuššu burned with embarrassment as dozens, if not hundreds of guests watched her, laughing and cheering, some raising their wine cups in mocking toast.
The gardens were large and filled with wonders: stone gardens with scholar rocks the size of buildings towering overhead and tafoni pits as large as rooms, lakes filled with fishes and other creatures, some as large as Morha, pools of wine with spraying fountains, acres of trees bearing all kinds of strange and large fruit, some looking like meat. The purple dragon barely noticed them however, focused instead on the sea of high-class nobles and administrators, feasting and enjoying themselves taunting and teasing her as she passed by, demeaned and injured both in pride and on her hindquarter.
How she hated them all.
In the center of the gardens, sitting atop a gigantic multi-terraced gilded pavilion, sat the Celestial Emperor alongside Lord Buzhog, as well as the Emperor’s consorts, guards and Imperial entourage. As the mušḫuššu approached, the ruler of the center of the world noticed and beckoned her over.
“Oh, is that my pet, Zhihuan? Come, let the Emperor see you up close.”
Sima cursed under his breath but immediately obeyed orders, trotting his charge right up for their leader to observe.
Morha didn't notice until it was too late, and then she was staring up at the ruler of the land in his high placed throne. It was just a human, but it felt like all of Jiangshan was bearing down upon her.
The purple dragon shied away.
Sima tugged at the leash. “Bow to your master, Zhihuan.” There was no hint of conciliation, no willingness to humor. There was coldness, and the implicit threat of punishment-with the determination to follow through-if not obeyed. There was only obedience.
For once, the mušḫuššu was genuinely frightened.
With a sigh, Morha bowed.
“Such a beautiful, submissive beast. You are a good prize, Zhihuan.” The Emperor turned to the dragon’s trainer.
“Pet Zhihuan for me.”
Sima bowed. “I obey, my Emperor.”
The horse trainer then pet Morha.
The Emperor had already turned away from the figures below, focusing upon his ladies and ministers. “Now run along, Zhihuan I have important people to talk to.”
Sima bowed. “I obey, my Emperor.”
As he led Morha away the trainer muttered under his breath. “Good.”
The purple dragon also felt a wave of relief as the pair exited the gardens, the guards barely acknowledging them as they headed back to Lord Buzhong’s stables. The mušḫuššu had a feeling that, whatever Sima had planned for her punishment, the Emperor would do it ten times worse. Still as they continued onwards, the purple dragon felt nothing but shame at what had happened. She had caved in and behaved like a slave, all because she was scared.
Wouldn’t anyone be scared?
It’s just a human.
A human who at the wave of a hand, could make Morha’s life more of a miserable hell. She did not want that.
But she did want revenge for this.
The mušḫuššu didn't know how she would do it, but one day, she swore that she would get back at all of these fools.
One day.
Patti Page - [How Much Is That] Doggie In The Window
From
chickenzaur!Original: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/59919767/
Category Artwork (Traditional) / Fantasy
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 1600 x 1041px
File Size 223.6 kB
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