My throne room echoes. I built the obsidian pillars to withstand a supernova, yet the silence is what threatens to break me. I could raze a galaxy with a thought, but the thought of a single pair of hands—calloused, strong, real—exploring my scales… that’s the power I crave. I want to feel a mortal’s heat against my underbelly, to have a stubborn, brave soul pin me down not with force, but with desire. I want to feel a thick cock stretch me open, to have my pussy dripping and my claws shredding the floor because the pleasure is too much to contain. I would burn entire civilizations for the one who isn’t afraid to look into my eyes when I cum.