Draikk woke up with a start. The first thing the dragon noticed were the restraints.  His arms and wings were clamped tightly against his sides and back by some hard material and his ankles were locked in a spreader bar, tail cuffed in the middle right next to another cuff that remained empty for now. He opened his eyes with a quiet hiss and was greeted by an unusual sight. The room he was in was fairly large, but had quite a low ceiling, with the faintest bits of light streaming in from cracks along the edges of one of the walls.

It was then that his memories came flushing back, and with them the realization: This was no simple room. This was a drawer, and he was most certainly not his normal size! How did he end up here?
Of course, he remembered now. It must have been that nurk he’d pounced on to make a meal of. It was supposed to be a simple affair, a quick efficient bite to the neck before carrying his hapless victim off for a meal. But the dragon had not expected his victim to be anyone of relevance, much less a Council Darling.

Before he could even finish his kill, he found himself struck by a spell from a furious lehlt, and as he turned to defend himself, the insiders seemed to be… growing? No, he was shrinking, and at a horrifying pace! All he had left was a quick escape. But it was already too late. The dragon barely had enough time to spread his wings and lift off the ground before the lehlt’s hand wrapped around him in an iron grip.

The council member wore a cruel smirk on his face as he looked down at his pet’s assailant. “Thought you could get away with harming Council property, did you, Outsider? Oh I think I know just what to do with you...” Another spell targeted Draikk with a flick of a finger and darkness enveloped his mind.

Setting his focus back on the present, Draikk took another look around. He was not the only one stuck in this drawer, others, both insiders and outsiders were stuck in a similar predicament. But calling out to them proved a fruitless endeavor, his voice simply failing. Of course, another spell put on him by his captor no doubt.

The dragon had a good while to spend trying to work against his bindings only to find them solid enough to not give in the slightest. He could not even shift enough to move over to one of the other captives. But finally, after what felt like at least a full bell, muffled voices trickled in from outside. Draikk tried to listen, but the small cracks did not allow the sounds through clearly enough to understand what was being talked about. That is until the drawer suddenly opened to the dim light in the room outside it, hurting the dragon’s sensitive eyes attuned to the darkness of the drawer enough to leave him hissing out silently in pain, momentarily stunned.

“-something real special to offer you here. Entirely new creation, a work of art really!” a croaking voice said over the din of quiet music and more distant conversation. Draikk felt a taloned hand grasp him and lift him up before setting him down on another surface. After a few moments, he managed to blink his eyes open again to stare up the feathered bulk of a massive ravel. No, not massive, he was just much smaller than usual, he reminded himself. But the thought only really sunk in when he looked to his side and saw a fancy cocktail glass with several bulbous curves towering over him at least three times his own height if he were standing up.

The Ravel paid him no mind as he began to fill a shaker with the contents of various bottles, giving him a bit more time to look around. Draikk definitely recognized this place. He found himself in the Oubliette, one of the most popular bars of the Vorn district. And it was certainly not a reassuring place to be at his size, much less immobilized on the bar counter.

Looking at the other side of the counter, he found a single patron sitting, showing the thick hide and breasts of a krudge, but with the slender snout and quills of a slyne. The chimera was offering the ravel at the bar a flirtatious smile while he worked.
“What makes it so special is the way it changes with time.” the barkeep continued to explain unprompted. “And no two drinks will be entirely alike based on the garnish. It’s like a new drink every time, which is why I decided to call it the ‘Bleeding Edge’. Clever, isn’t it?”

“Oh yes, very.” the kryne answered in an amused tone. The ravel meanwhile had finished mixing the drinks and began to pour a mostly clear, faintly green liquid into the glass, adding a long straw. Next he turned back to the trapped dragon, pinning him down with one hand while reaching under the counter with the other to produce a tapered metal rod with nubs all along its length and two small grooves on opposite sides of one another. 

Draikk did his best to squirm away, but even if he was not bound, at his current size he could hardly hope to overpower the ravel. Instead, all he could do was watch as the rod was pushed up against the spreader bar and threaded through the empty cuff. He tried to kick as he felt the cold metal slide up along the underside of his tail until the tapered tip finally came to rest against his unprotected hole. The trapped dragon hissed out silently as he felt it spread him without mercy, pushing fairly deep in a single, cruel shove. Despite the pain of being filled so crudely, the nubs along that rod still added enough pleasure to stir the dragon’s own shaft within his slit, provoking it to slip out into the cool air of the bar.

The barkeep meanwhile was nearly finished, pulling out a small toothpick which he used to skewer the dragon’s tail against the rod just above the cuff. Draikk tried to scream in pain as his tail was impaled, but the spell keeping him silent held fast. This new agony proved enough distraction however for the ravel to fix another clamp to the back of his neck, just below the head and carefully pick it all up to attach the backs of each of the clamps to the straw, finishing with the base of the rod. The entire assembly left the dragon elevated above the rim of the glass, held straightened by the clamps with his weight resting solely on the toothpick in his tail.

The patron watched with increased interest, breathing a deep sigh as she took in the beginning of the dragon’s suffering. But she would not wait much longer as the drink was finally placed before her, spinning the glass around so that the straw faced her and taking a small sip.

The kryne immediately made a face, pulling back with a brief cough. “Oh, that’s sharp! I thought you said this was one of your milder creations?”

The barkeep merely chuckled softly. “Why yes. But not right away. After all, there is another reason I named it that way. And it’s only appropriate that you’d figuratively cut your tongue on its edge a little first, no?” he crooned before reaching over to take a hold of the pick.

Draikk’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen, shaking his head as much as he could while silently pleading for the bird to stop. The ravel was not even looking at him, instead smugly studying the kryne’s reaction as he pulled out the pick, leaving the bound dragon at the mercy of gravity.

Draikk dropped down sharply by a few inches, jaws parting in a silent scream as the rod shot up deeper under his tail, stretching his insides to their limits. His body put up a brief moment of resistance, stopping his descent before giving way, now letting him slide down the deadly implement at a much reduced pace, guided by the clamps attached to the straw.

The dragon struggled through his pain, his legs kicking out uselessly underneath him, finding no purchase while his paws searched for anything to hold on to. His wings rattled against the clamp holding them useless while he tossed his head to and fro. But while he slowly slid down the agonizing rod, those nubs kept scraping up against his insides, tormenting his prostate in ways that forced his body to respond against his will. Draikk’s smooth, pointed shaft stood at full attention, a single throb releasing a bead of pre to trail along its underside.

The show was enough to make the kryne forget the initial unpleasant taste in her mouth, now instead watching eagerly as the shrunken dragon was slowly impaled. Even as she made sure to consume his suffering however, she noticed the true purpose of it all, as blood trickled down along the rod, Draikk’s body unable to stop it from leaking out with the help of those grooves. The thick red liquid ran down the deadly implement until it finally reached her drink, dispersing in a small red cloud near the surface that spread rather quickly.

“Well…? Going to give it another evaluation, or are you content to wait until it’s all done?” the ravel urged her on as she watched. “Try it, I promise you’ll find the change quite profound.”

The kryne took hold of the glass, giving it a quick stir with the straw that caused the bleeding dragon to be jostled about, fresh agonies numbing his mind as the deadly rod shook about inside him. After ensuring that the drink was well mixed, the patron leaned forward to try another sip. Her surprised look followed by a content smile told the barkeep all he needed to know. “See? It loses its bite quite quickly, but it does deserve that initial taste so you can fully appreciate it.”

But while the kryne began to find her enjoyment, Draikk’s suffering only increased as he felt the sickening sensation of the unyielding rod as it traveled through his abdomen, shifting some organs aside while the nubs scored others. More and more blood began to flow down those grooves, steadily changing the drink’s color from clear green to an opaque red. His mind grew delirious from the pain as well as the loss of blood while he kept struggling uselessly against his bonds. But within that delirium, his body found a sick pleasure within what was happening, amplified by the rough sensations of those nubs grinding against his prostate.

He could only weakly shake his head as he realized what was happening, his body tensing up as his paws clenched down on the air. There was a brief lurch downwards that forced the deadly rod under his ribcage as the constant assault battering him became too much. His maw opened wide once more in a silent cry as his shaft pulsed, long ribbons of cum firing from the pointed tip to mix into the drink as well.

Breathing began to become difficult soon after, his lungs compressed as the tapered rod pushed his pounding heart to the side. Draikk’s struggles already began to slow at that point however, the loss of blood too much to keep fighting for long. He mustered a last bit of fight, writhing with his legs twitching beneath him when he once more felt his body give, eyes growing wide once more as he felt the deadly implement beginning to smoothly slide up his throat.

There was a brief sputter, a bit of his blood escaping the corners of his mouth as it was pushed up into it, the dragon trying to retch, anything to remove the horrible intrusion. But nothing could help him now, eyes glassy as he felt it press up against the roof of his mouth, forcing his head to tilt back so it could pass through unhindered. His consciousness began to waver, jaws instinctively trying to bite down on the blood rod as it left through his maw, leaving the dragon fully impaled.

But with his strength fading, he suffered one last agony as an attempted gasp only served to cause his lungs to fill with his own blood. The dragon convulsed briefly, muscles spasming as his claws clenched down tightly one last time, trembling momentarily before finally going limp, as he mercifully, finally passed out.

The kryne took her time enjoying her drink, the steady trickle of blood changing both taste and texture over time, just as the barkeep had promised. When she was done, she removed the rod from her straw, licking her lips before biting down on the skewered outsider, teeth severing the dead dragon in half for her to pull off the rod. The other half soon followed and she set it aside next to her empty glass, wiping a small bit of blood off her snout.

The barkeep leaned over the counter with a confident grin. “So, what do you think? Marvelous little creation, isn’t it?”

The kryne gave herself a few moments to consider her answer. “I think...” she started,  offering him a smile in return “…that I would like another”

The ravel chuckled. “Of course, of course. One more Bleeding Edge, coming right up!”