Reading time 8 minutes

Virgina Lives To Tell The Tail

Last time, on Virgina: Virgina’s regular teen life is turned upside-down when she falls for the irrepressible D, a boy who seems strangely repressed for his age. What is D’s secret? What is he keeping from Virgina? And finally, what is D hiding? Catch up with the gang here, here and here or just read on anyway. 

I stumbled blindly from the open shack, like a horse waking up from a nightmare. D couldn’t live here, no-one could live here, the open sky beating down unflinchingly on not only the carpets but the cups and chairs as well. The entire thing was a front, a front with no back, and it was the back that I needed, it was the back that I desperately craved.  Where was D’s back? What secrets did it hold? Did he even have a back, or was his back a crazy dream I’d let myself into, like an innocent horse getting ready to go to sleep, no knowledge of the fevered similes that awaited him.

Enough was enough. I couldn’t live like this anymore, this hoping, this waiting, this occasionally stinging and discharging. It was time I knew for certain who D really was, so that I would finally own him, and the power would all be different somehow, and we’d very much respect one another and he’d be the one to say things like “no, YOU’re the one who makes ME afraid of being left naked and alone round the bins”.

I thought back on our time together; on our flesh-drinking  and the emotion stuff we didn’t need to say because it was obvious, and I realised I only truly knew two things about D: he keenly encouraged my hair-growth, and his family had a connection to the local hotel.  I’d gorgeously thrown my razors into the canal weeks ago, accidentally causing a spate of punctured tuna, so there was only one thing left to do. It was back to the sumptuous Cavort and Ragon, to finally solve this mystery, and hope it didn’t get even sexier and more mysterious and great.

“Where is D, WHERE IS HE YOU MONSTERS” I shouted carefully into the bellboy’s mouth, watching with satisfaction as he took in the erotic curves of my zebra costume, as well as the erotic curves of my shouting pitch.

“Why, miss Virgina- I… I don’t know what you-“

I gasped right at his teeth, because it was the only way he’d learn,

“How… how do you know my name?”

The lad was caught, caught in a twisted web made of words that were too big for his boots. Stamp those boots all you like, I thought cannily, those words are trapped.

“You know exactly who I am,” I murmured fanatically, “you know how I’m developing as a woman right now, and no doubt you know where D is too. I’m too justified a heroine to not know his secret, I’ve not known his terrible secret for AGES and it’s been wonderful and sexy and everyone’s had a nice time. But now, things have changed. I’m just a girl, I’m just a girl trying to show that I have inner strength too, thus making me the perfect woman for anyone to fancy or try to become.”

I paused because it was time to, my breasts heaving wildly like a cat being sick.

Caught in the twin headlights of my speech and tits, the bellboy’s eyes widened to the point of engulfment. Without realising it, they flicked to a corner of the room I hadn’t noticed before, a corner that looked in some strange, beautiful way like the opening to an ancient medieval dungeon. Then they flicked back again. But they had flicked enough. They had flicked more than enough for me. I grabbed the burning torch from his hand, and my hair looked really good and like a woman’s does when she’s being brave.

“Miss Virgina! No!” I heard the poor boy wail as I clattered down the stone steps, my head a raspberry swirl and my body a panting cone. “Mr Ragon! Mr Ragon I’m sorry!” His voice faded, and I didn’t give a shit.

This was it, I realised, turning corner after corner, the torch in my path making my cheekbones look fantastic, this was the moment I would truly understand. The deep, intensely sexy psychological trauma, the sexy suddenly disappearing from hotel windows, the endless, endless parade of sticky Tom Cat costumes – it was all leading to this. Whoever you are, D, whatever you have done, I thought wildly, I will love you. I will love you because that is my purpose in this life. I will love you because any other goal isn’t worthy of a story.

“D!” I screamed with almost too much emotion to be properly sexy, but not quite, “D! I’m here! I’m here, and I will know you and just… just properly put it in me, right now-”

“Virgina!” I heard a scrambled cry, “Virgina, no- I swore, I swore you would never see me like-“

I rounded the final corner like a fucking BMW M3 DTM, and stopped like a Mitsubishi Racing Lancer. My nipples finally wriggled free of their furry casing, bursting forth to have a look and dragging my breasts along with them. I stopped. And I breathed.


“Yes,” he whispered, his eyes meeting mine and shaking hands and maybe even giving them a hug,

“yes. ”

“All this time?”

“Since the day I was born.”

“D…. Ragon?”

The dragon in front of me took a final pull on his cigarette, and closed the copy of Wildlife Weekly he’d evidently been cracking one off to.

“The burns… the scales… the lust for small mammals…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Virgina. How could you have known? How could you have known that I turn into a full dragon when I’m too turned on? I should have stayed away from you, God knows I tried.”

He looked at me, his liquid amber eyes glinting with the same light that was bouncing off his many teeth.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, but God I wanted you.”

His wings were properly massive.

“I wanted you, I want you still. But we cannot be together, you cannot love a man who often will turn into a dragon.”

Tears were already pissing down my face, hot, lustful, afraid, mindful of dragon penis.

“I understand,” I whispered softly. “You think I’m overweight.”

“What?” His claws cracked the tiny skeletons underfoot with agitation. I gazed at them enviously; they had been ravaged by D, and had emerging gleaming, clean, shining, fat-free.

“TAKE ME WITH YOU, D” I screamed reasonably, “MAKE ME WHAT YOU ARE.”

His eyebrows were lovely, though the huge snout underneath was taking a little more time to fall unquestionably in love with forever.

“I CANNOT, VIRGINA,” he roared – but, like, really, not like in a shit human way, oh GOD my bits were singing – “I can only consume you, I can consume you and leave you for the rats and the weasels.”

“THEN PLEASE DO IT” I sobbed,  shaking myself out of my onesie, determined to show him my body, my weapon, the thing I had that made people respect me and do things for me, “PLEASE D, ALL I AM IS WHAT YOU ARE.”

“Virgina,” D’s body twisted and turned as he tried to contain his frankly terrifying erection, “you don’t understand, I will set you ON FIRE”


“No really-“ he interrupted, “You’ll fucking know when you’re on fire, Virgina.”

Sweating with pure love, I lunged for his beautiful scaly snake-monster – he pulled away like I might have done once, before I knew that love meant always doing whatever the sexiest thing was at the time.

“Virgina, you MUST STOP” he bellowed, the stench from the bodies on the ground mingling with my gushing flower, causing him almost dizzying desire.


“NO, D! MAKE ME WHOLE!” I screamed like a fucking lunatic.

Beating the walls with his dragon’s wings, his dragon’s tail, his two beautiful dragon’s fists, stones were beginning to fall noisily from the roof of the cavern I hadn’t bothered to describe, tumbling without any grace whatsoever and generally killing my boner slightly. But D was on a sexy dragon rampage, and nothing I said could stop him now. As the dust and grit and howls deepened, I searched desperately for a good grip on his dragon dong – sure that if I could just –


Through the crashing rocks and strewn ferret porn, I recognised the voice of Posy, my best friend by default. Grabbing at my arm, she pulled me naked and amazing through the falling stones, the dust filling my head, my nose, my adorable consciousness slipping away, away, as D finally lost control and brought the very walls down on himself, allowing me to be the winner of something.

Many years have passed since those final moments, since I saw the only man I loved cursing and snarling and being a dragon and dying under a heap of family-owned hotel. But not a single day passes that I don’t think of him. A small patch of singed flesh on the inside of my upper left thigh reminds all men that no matter what, he got there first; and therefore bagsied me.

Posy unfortunately was fully got in the face by the torch and is now unrecognisable. She wasn’t attractive before, so it doesn’t matter, but I cannot help but pity her. For though she was brave, and loyal and strong in a very literal sense, she will never be of any real interest. These days in Class I tie up my auburn hair, and have an inner strength and pain which is sexy in a sort of different, but still absolutely acceptable way. Maybe I will become a lawyer, or a doctor, or a magistrate, or whatever passes the time, but I keep watching the door; waiting. My loins in a permanent state of doggy paddle. Oh D, to be folded in your claws and destroyed by the fires of your dick. But still, I wait. One day, that door will open. And my story can begin again.


About Work In Prowess

Work in Prowess is the ravings of a mad king left to rot in a besieged palace


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