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Hey-lo, and welcome to my medieval fantasy (with dragons) version of an adult baby story: Drakevisions! Now, our dragons are quite different in this story (and it will be explained later on), but I wanted an exciting first chapter to start with. Now, there are numerous content warnings for this story. This is definitely under the realm of mature for a very good reason. In this chapter alone, there's implied war crimes, stated sexual assault (including one case of a teen) and implied abuse stemming from this, implied baby dragon killing, major violence (including blood and broken bones), and implied murder and mass murder, including that of baby dragons. Later on, we'll be delving into a few more of those themes plush brainwashing and gaslighting, transphobia, bullying, sexism, bigotry against small town people, war crimes, animal (dragon) cruelty, abuse of both humans and baby dragons, character death, implied intentions of genocide, and various other topics. I advise people to ONLY get into this if you're willing; I will never ask people to read this if they don't want to. Please remember: VIEWER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED. About critique, feel absolutely free to tell me what I'm doing wrong; in fact, I encourage it with all my heart! I want to publish this under my pseudo penname in books for AR/AB stuff, and in order to publish without mistakes and errors, I absolutely need to know what I've done wrong. If you can't find anything wrong, then tell me what you liked, please! These things make me a better writer. I'm not soft when it comes to critique, and I'll always listen to it. Thank you in advance! And now, for the first chapter of Drakevisions! - Chapter One: Visions of the Past - Ermendrud was nervous for her first day at her job for Queen Dominica, First of Her Name, Ruler of the Five Realms, The Beauty of the World. Well, technically, it wasn’t just the Queen that needed it; it was the entire city of Deofolmece and everyone in the Light Realm from the evil drakes in the Shadow Lands and the treacherous, loathsome Oathbreakers who led them. It was the job of the Immortals, the Queen’s famed major army, to protect the villages, but after the drakes had torn through Blodham, the second-largest city in the Light Realm, slaying all in their wake, it was almost becoming a necessity to find a weapon that could stop them. Not that it was easy, because even wounding a full-grown drake was considered almost impossible. No, Ermendrud wasn’t in the Immortals; only those big enough, strong enough, fast enough, and brave enough were capable - and she was none of those: only a girl of seven-and-ten, shy and gentle as a flower, and the Immortals did not allow women in their ranks, by order of the Queen. Her job was egg raising, drake egg raising, to be precise, along with many others who either intended to join the Immortals or make drake bloodletting a career. Drake blood had a potency that was unmatched. It was said to cure any sickness, no matter how much it spread, any wound, even mortal ones. It could even cure deformities in babies and children. And thus, even with how dangerous fully-grown drakes were, the eggs - and the little drakes inside of them - were immensely important. It was a blessing and a curse, then, that drakes were immortal…in a manner of speaking. Kill one, and its body would simply return to being an unbreakable - yes, unbreakable; swords, hammers, axes, spears, all of them would shatter on impact - egg, which then hatched it into a baby drake all over again in two years. Out of all five species of drakes, only the rare phoenixdrakes would ever remember any of their previous lives, sure, but it meant that nothing would ever put them down for good. And so Ermendrud was to harvest the blood of baby drakes, she pondered, as she walked over to the gatehouse where she was to sign up, all the way from her small village of Blaecham. She kept wondering if that was a good idea, to kill babies of any kind for blood, but drakes were cruel to humans, were they not? “Hey, Ermy! Are you listening?” “Are you ignoring us on purpose? I’m hurt, Ermy; I thought we were friends?” “Realm to Ermy, are you there?” Ermendrud turned to her three lifelong friends - all from the same village she was from, all seven-and-ten years of age, and all staring at her - startled out of her thoughts. There was Faramund, a six foot, five inch and somewhat heavyset man at nineteen stone exact with oily, caramel brown hair that was slicked back to the nape of his neck, a patchy beard with slight ginger hints on a face with a jutting jaw and high cheekbones, and cautious green eyes, his muscles showing from his short brown shirt and breeches. He was the smart and serious one, wise beyond his years, always the one with a solid plan to do things every day, stoic and always reliable, even with his analytical mindset. Second was Widogast, a tall and gangly man at six feet, five inches and fourteen-and-a-half stone, with shoulder-length strawberry blond hair, a thin mustache and the hints of a wispy goatee, and mischievous gray eyes on a rodent-like face, his long dyed blue shirt and brown breeches baggy on him. He was always ready with a joke that nobody else seemed to get, a constant grin on his face, always positive and willing to cheekily argue with the more dour Faramund, constantly keeping up their spirits. Finally, there was Wulfgifu, a woman taller than any of them and most grown men at six feet, seven inches weighing fourteen stone, with large breasts and hips showing through her long homespun brown dress, long and curly burnt-orange locks falling to the small of her back, and icy-blue eyes filled with surprising warmth on her chubby face. She was brash and bold, confident and dauntless almost to a fault, but stronger than any man she knew, despite being a woman, never to be bettered by any man. And yet, she was a very kind and nurturing woman as well. All stood there with bags carrying their meager possessions (it wasn’t that they were poor; they just didn’t have as much as the castle inhabitants did), seemingly waiting on her to pay attention. Ermendrud shuffled her bag on her shoulder nervously, her long auburn hair pinned into a bun, even though lengths of it still fell into her hazel eyes, shifting from the lightest brown to a brownish-green in the light, each with gold flecks. She was small for a woman at 5’1” and slightly heavier than seven stone. Her plain brown dress purposely hid her breasts, large for her size, even though her petite frame would do her no favors on the childbearing (partially why she wanted not to have children, along with not wanting the responsibility). She and her friends called themselves “The Four Routiers”, having known each other since early childhood. They protected each other (well, it was mostly her three friends protecting her, but she helped dress their wounds afterwards; she was slated to be a healer early on before the interest in drake-keepers grew and her profession was changed), they sang together, fought together, did everything together. And now they were becoming drake-keepers and moving to the castle together. The thought was a lot for her. “Well, um, I was just thinking about the drakes in question,” she answered, her thoughts on the potential hatchlings. “It just seems like a lot, you know? Coming from Blaecham all the way to Castle Tungol…who would’ve thought?” “Who would’ve thought it would be us?” Wulfgifu answered kindly. “Why shouldn’t it be us, Ermy? We’ve more than earned our way, learning how to read, even in our small hamlet, learning as much as we could. Isn’t this what it’s supposed to be?” “And it’ll be fun!” Widogast said eagerly. “I want to see what the drakes are like as well!” “You mean before we kill them?” Faramund finished. “That’s what they’ll be expecting. I don’t like it one bit, and neither does Ermy; I can tell.” “Fary dour, ever sour,” Widogast snarked before finishing in a dark tone, “There’ll probably be Immortals that do that. I never want to be one, even if they demand it. Not now, not ever.” “Never is right,” Faramund agreed with vehemence in his tone. “After the Sack of Wolcenham? After everything we’ve lost? Never.” “Even if I was a man, never,” Wulfgifu echoed, her voice raw with fury. “Never, ever, ever.” Ermendrud felt empathy towards all of her three friends, as they stood outside of the castle gatehouse, thinking about the Immortals. All of her friends’ fathers and mothers had died while in service as infantry to the Immortals against the drakes (which led to the law that no woman could join the Immortals after they had been killed by the drakes). Widogast had lost his older sister after she got into a fight with an Immortal when he was eight, and Faramund had lost his older brother during the sack. Killed in battle, was what he stated an Immortal said to him, but he knew that was a lie. As for Wulfgifu’s anger against the Immortals, all of her family, down to the newborn baby, had been butchered by what she believed were Immortals when she was a child, the only survivor of the attack. The Immortals said the murderers were bandits, but she never believed them. Meanwhile, Ermendrud was the product of a brutal rape by some horrible excuse of a man, her mother being younger than she was when it happened, having barely survived the birth, according to the midwife who had told the story to Ermendrud. Her mother always said she never wanted her, that she hated her child, that her eyes reminded her of her rapist every single time, to never come back after permanently kicking her out of the house when she was a child. Her gentle heart knew that her mother was just traumatized from what had happened, and others wiser than she had said her mother was far too young to properly care for her. She had no idea who her father was and never wanted to know, if that was the kind of “man” he was. The four had been mostly raised by a kindly friar by the name of Ealhstan (now Brother Ealhstan); a compassionate man who helped them along with the nuns of Blaecham, keeping them from the more unsavory orphanages and telling the four that they were a family and to hold onto those bonds for their days…and so they did. “HEY! Are you four just going to stand out there gawking?!” All four of them jumped when they heard the sound of a gruff woman, part of a group of three women who revealed themselves. The speaker was a bit taller than most women, willowy, clad in leather armor, a dagger at her hip. A scowl was on her freckled face. The other two women were also tall and more portly than the speaker, but clad in the same armor. Wulfgifu answered for all of them. “We’re supposed to be drake-keepers. This is where we sign up, right?” “Drake-keepers? You four? HAH!” The woman spat on the ground. “You and everyone in every small backwater town!” “We had letters that told us to sign-” “Nobody cares!” the speaking woman snarled. “Nobody cares about you fucking poor hicks!” “Who says we aren’t wealthy?” Widogast asked cheekily. “Your clothes, smartarse,” the woman growled. “Cheek me again, and I’ll cut your fucking tongue out.” Widogast gave a sneaky look at the woman before touching his right cheek, then his left, before he finally stuck his tongue out. “Fucking cocksucker!” The woman rushed at Widogast almost faster than Ermendrud could blink, her dagger drawn. One of them drew her own dagger, while the other had a sword, both rushing Faramund and Wulfgifu, obviously saving the smaller Ermendrud for last. Widogast dodged the initial knife swipe, landing a solid blow on the woman’s nose that broke it, leaving her gasping in anger. Ermendrud, seeing Wulfgifu holding the arms of the sword-bearing woman to prevent the two-handed sword from coming down, gave a quick kick to the woman’s leg with her heavy boot that sent her crumpling to the ground with a crack, howling in pain, before Wulfgifu knocked the woman out with a blow to the head. Faramund had disarmed the other dagger-wielding woman with a hard twist, breaking the woman’s wrists as she screamed, before kicking the dagger away from her. The willowy woman flipped the knife to her other hand, stabbing at Widogast, who merely sidestepped the attempt and landed a blow that knocked a few of her teeth out, leaving her stumbling before he finally disarmed her and held her arms behind her back. “You fucker!” she spat, blood pouring from her nose and mouth on the ground, trying to squirm out of the skinny teenager’s grip like a bucking horse. “All your hands will be mine for touching knights! And then I’ll have your tongues, and then your cocks and tits, too, you fucks!” “What do our cocks and breasts have to do with anything?” Widogast asked, rolling his eyes. “We don’t want to fuck you or nurse you; we just wanted to know where to sign up for the drake-keeper occupation.” “You fucking hicks will never get it! And I’ll still have your fucking hands, tongue, and cock!” “Really know only those words, don’t you?” Widogast said, rolling his eyes again before he nodded at Ermendrud, to which she quickly gathered the swords and daggers away from the three knights. “Listen, you dumbarses, you attacked us for no good reason,” Faramund said coldly, still holding the other woman’s arms behind her back. “We only wanted to know where to sign up, not deal with you idiots.” “What the Hell is going on? Who are you four?” Ermendrud noticed the people coming in with a sinking heart. More knights. Men this time, a score and a half of them, in full plate armor. Half of them had arrows notched on longbow strings aimed at them, ten of them had swords, while the other five were on horseback with spears. We’re so fucked… - Some of the names have been taken from Anglo-Saxon English. There's a whole list of words that I used for the towns and stuff, so keep that in mind. With that, I hope y'all enjoyed~

Part 1 It was a hot late afternoon in August 1875 when a small group of girls was sitting in the patio of the Vennesvik inn. However, a random observer would notice that their arms were tied behind their backs. The group was no exception. All women around had their arms tied up as well. According to the Restriction Law in the Estreamund Kingdom, all females over 16 had to have their arms tied except for at home. Their husbands, fathers or brothers had to take care of their needs but they also had the authority to keep their wives, daughters or sisters tied up even more than necessary by the Law. In case of missing a family-related male caretaker, a public male caretaker was assigned. Almost all females were plagued by incontinence and they had to wear diapers. Of course, there were no disposables diapers available at those times, and dozens of washed diapers were hanging behind every house. The women and girls had to wash their diapers two or three times in a week. Surprisingly, there was no sign of rebellion from either side. The males accepted their role even if it was quite uncomfortable, and the females didn’t try to protest or try to escape. There was something like a dark mystery and curse hanging over the country as if the mind of every human was affected by a magic power. “How are you doing today, Anette?” a blonde girl turned to her neighbor, “It’s fine I’ve finished my chores and my father allowed me go here and drink a beer.” “You’re lucky, Sigrid; you have your father. My father passed away long ago and Olaf has been taking care of me since then.” “I know, Anette; Olaf is a good caretaker; I haven’t heard any complaints.” “Of course, he is but he has to take care of five girls including me and I have to stay tied up whenever he isn’t around. That’s quite frustrating. I can’t do anything on my own and I have to wear a thick diaper package. Today he stopped at my house at lunch and I could eat and change my diapers. Since then, I’ve been browsing the village and trying to waste time. He will come in the evening to do his round, and he will tie me to the bed then.” Sigrid nodded only. She knew about Anette and several more girls and women that were assigned a public caretaker. Olaf was really a good man, but he was a bit overloaded. Each of his clients had one morning and one afternoon reserved during workdays and about two days of weekend every month. Most of the reserved time they washed their diapers and tidied up. Nevertheless, Olaf’s life was even harder; he had only two days off in a month. James walked over to the girls and he held the glassof beer at their lips so they could drink. James was a nice young boy; he was the innkeeper’s son and he often helped his father. “Thank you, James,” Sigrid smiled at him. “You’re welcome, Sigrid,” he replied and moved to Anette. Anette drank up her cup and almost asked James for another one when she felt a stream of pee soaking her diaper package. The package was quite heavy and uncomfortable, and she couldn’t dare to pee once more until the next change. “Good afternoon, ladies; hopefully I don’t disturb” Olaf’s voice sounded cheerful and the middle aged man sat down next to the group. “Not at least, Olaf. Is your shift over already?” Anette turned to him. “Yeah, Anette, it is getting late. Maybe I should start my evening round soon. Would you like to be the first one?” “Why not, Olaf?” Anette’s heart jumped; she would get rid of the damn wet diaper. “Well, I’ll drink a beer and we can go then,” Olaf nodded, “James, bring me a glass of beer and the dinners for my girls.” The women cared for by public caretakers couldn’t work and the municipality took care of all their needs. The innkeeper prepared food and his expenses were refunded. Unfortunately, that was a reason for bad relationships. The poor women were considered parasites despite the fact they couldn’t work. Five minutes later James appeared with the beer and a big bag, Olaf paid for the beer and lifted the glass to his lips. He really was thirsty. Anette watched him only. “Let’s go, Anette,” Olaf stood up and stepped forward. Anette also stood up and waddled behind him. The wet package between her legs was heavy and Anette was worried about a leakage. “Hurry up? Anette,” Olaf closed the door and Anette hurried up to the small bathroom to remove the diaper package, wash herself and put on a new diaper and change into her nightshirt. She ate her dinner quickly and washed dishes. “Up to the bed,” Olaf took several pieces of rope and followed Anette. She lay down obediently and stretched her arms behind her head. Olaf tied her wrists to the upper bedposts. “Spread your legs,” Olaf took another piece of rope and tied it around her left ankle, “Sorry but I have to be sure you won’t try to get free, Anette.” “Don’t worry, Olaf. Why should I try to do it?” Anette smiled at Olaf. He was a handsome man, and he sometimes couldn’t resist the temptation when he took care of women. He was single; no woman wanted to marry a public caretaker for a good reason. Anette liked him and they had an intimate relationship. “Okay then,” Olaf tied her ankle to the lower bedpost and moved to her right side to repeat the procedure with her right ankle. Anette moaned quietly when she felt his hands on her bare legs. “Good night and think of me.” He covered her, leaned down, kissed her lips, put out the light and left. Anette couldn’t fall asleep; it was too early. She was thinking of Olaf, and she felt a slight arousal. Her life was almost miserable, and the time spent with Olaf was a pleasant one. Of course, she had several friends in the village, but they met rarely. Sigrid and Kristi were quite busy with helping their families. Mona and Hannah were two widows, and they were also cared for by Olaf; nevertheless they were quite boring and Anette wouldn’t like to meet them because of the urine smell. The old women liked beer and their diapers leaked almost every day. The thoughts of Olaf caused an itching feeling down between her legs, and she started pulling on the ropes in a vain effort to scratch that itch. Unfortunately, the inability to scratch the itch made it even more intense. She started moaning and pulling on the ropes but the response was unexpected; a stream of pee soaked her diaper. She sighed only, and the arousal disappeared. Suddenly the door opened, and a small figure sneaked in. “Hello, Anette,” James’s vice sounded cheerful. “Hi, James, nice to see you. Have you finished today?” “Not exactly but I wanted to see you. You are that lonely and you might need a friend.” “Oh, it is really nice from you, James. Right, I am quite lonely, and Olaf had to leave to take care of other his clients.” “Would you like to have one more beer to sleep better?” “Oh no,” Anette realized the wet package between her legs and blushed a little, “I would leak until morning.” “Unless,” James grinned mischievously, “unless somebody changed your diaper.” “Hey, what would you like to say?” “Don’t worry. I think Olaf has changed your diaper already. I know how to do it; I’ve changed my mother and sister already.” “Okay then. I might use it,” she smiled at the small boy. Was he really that nice? “Wait a little,” James set off and he returned fifteen minutes later with a glass of beer. “Drink,” he held the glass at Anette’s lips and let her drink. Anette was quite thirsty and drank it up quickly. The reaction was almost immediate, and another stream of pee escaped her bladder. “James …”, she grinned, and James nodded. He brought two cleans diapers and lifted Anette’s nightshirt, unbuttoned the rubber pants and removed the wet diapers. “You are all wet indeed,” he pulled the wet diapers form beneath Anette and put on two clean ones. “Well, it will hold until morning,” he covered her, took the wet diapers, put them into the pail and left, “good night.” Anette closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly. She was glad to have a new friend even if it was a small boy.