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Commodore Teryx went through that upcoming week in an unusually guarded, introspective mood. He kept his host's consciousness switched off entirely for a lot more of the time than was typical, often pulling him out only when some task or social situation at work became inconvenient. The game of figuring out how to "infiltrate" Teryx's job and "pass" as him had been an interesting novelty during his first time in his host, but it was starting to become tedious enough that he found himself happier to force the host to take care of it like a slave.

Not that this demand was without supervision. One day quite early in the process, Commodore overheard Teryx making a lighthearted alien invasion joke at the watercooler. Specifically, Teryx speculated about how interesting it would be if some invading "aliens" were actually some kind of brain-modifying virus that infected people in secret and eventually took them over -- to the point that the world would never know what was wrong until it was too late. The punchline was a dramatically clandestine whisper that such an infestation was the only rational explanation for the existence of cubicle farms, and it got a laugh from the handful of highly familiar coworkers who had been around him at the time.

All fun, all light. Except the Commodore, after some consideration and analysis, didn't particularly like it.

Remember to toe the line for me, the voice had come into his head while he was in the middle of writing an email memo to a coworker later that afternoon. If you go too far, I will stop you and make you look like an idiot in front of whoever you were telling.

That seems very like you, replied Teryx.

As if proving the point, Teryx found his hands helplessly typing the letters, "dicksdicksdicksdicksdicksdicksdicks" for the next seventeen seconds. It was surprising how many dicks one could fit into an email if one really worked at it.

Commodore stopped short of forcing him to hover the cursor over the send button, but Teryx got the message.

Not all was cruelty and oppression, however. When Teryx did his job and didn't subvert the Commodore too much, he would be rewarded with little "moments" of... secretly desirable torture.

"Hey, Teryx, you coming out of there anytime soon?" asked his beluga coworker in the general direction of the stall in the gents where Teryx had been indisposed for the last ten minutes.

Teryx's voice was a genuine groan. "Nnghh... Yeah... sorry, really not feeling well."

"They're starting the meeting without us, you'd better get up there."

"Yeah, yeah, trust me, I'm getting up soon."

"Uh... okay. See you there."

Teryx shivered as he heard the squeak of the washroom door closing. His out of control right hand resumed its relentless, edging strokes on his erection.

Such a naughty boy, keeping your superiors waiting... little do they know you report to someone who outranks their entire kind of life form...

Nhh... stop, too much... I'll have a wet spot in my trousers if you leave me like this and send me off.

Heheh, and why is that a problem? Why not proudly display just how much you adore your beautiful cock and the cream it lets out?

"Gh-aaah..." His dick kept pulsing but never quite came; this particular round of edging was pushing him into a prolonged state of near-orgasm, as if Commodore had rigged Teryx's plateau with a pneumatic lift and pumped the whole thing upwards.

Careful, quiet~ his master teased.

Mhh, there are wolves there. They'll smell it. They'll know. It could get me fired, so please...

Ahh, I love it when you beg. It always pushes you that last little bit of the way. Delicious...

Stop! It feels like my heart could give out if you keep doing that...

Poor work-stressed Teryx, not so tough now.

Hey, shut up, you're the one who... GGHHHHCHK!!

Teryx was shocked to feel his ejaculation strike like lightning. Commodore had exuded some kind of triggering impulse into his brain, and the reaction had been rapid from there. He had also had the wisdom to take control of the mouth and throat to prevent that noise from going out loud.

When Teryx looked down (not by his choice), he saw his big, veiny erection thrumming and bobbing, dispensing its load into a wad of toilet tissue that his left hand had acquired at Commodore's command. Teryx hadn't even felt it, but he could certainly feel the climax.

Nghh... now I won't be able to present my idea properly!

Get up and walk it off. You'll find your neurochemistry in the perfect state for it. I'll simply stall your afterglow until later.

Mhh... yes, Commodore...

Teryx hated seeming weak in any situation, but the combination of circumstances and Commodore's treatment had brought it out of him again. Being seen with consequences was definitely a weak point; either he took it seriously and didn't want it to happen for materially sound reasons, or he took it lightheartedly and fantasized about it happening in a way that made him even harder. Either way Teryx rolled with the idea, Commodore won.

Still, in this case, so did Teryx. He found his meeting went exactly as the Commodore had said it would, and had a blissfully relaxing several minutes of downtime after the meeting ended.

That's a good trick, commended Teryx internally as he gazed out a window over the skyline.

My tricks are evolving, said the Commodore. I'm working on a way to make you precisely forget everything about "Sir Harry" and only remember the parts about regular "Harry." I'm going to manipulate you into thinking you've been in a relationship with him this entire time and that neither my offspring nor myself have ever occurred to your mind... until we suddenly are there again and it all comes back to you.

Won't lie, said Teryx as he fixed his shirt's collar. That's kind of hot.

Heh, it isn't the only hot thing we have planned. Now, back to work with you.

Yes, Commodore.

Particularly when it came to work, there was comfort in submission.

* * *

Commodore also took the unusual step of entirely omitting telling Teryx anything about the tentative plan to burn the beach house. He thought about it often while piloting the body solo, but he couldn't see any benefit to telling Teryx about it that couldn't be gained more easily by abusively pleasuring the dragon.

The upcoming manipulation, to which the Commodore had alluded, was but one facet of a larger plan to start focusing Teryx tightly into his role as neurological food and patient-zero of their invasion. This meant trying and testing various new techniques, some of which he had reverse-engineered by examining how his offspring had done it prior to his return.

This suite of advanced manipulations would include situationally culling access to any and all memories which were inconsistent with the plans of his masters, without sacrificing too much of Teryx's normal functioning in the process. This process would also be used to help in psychologically conditioning in ever-deeper ways so that he would begin to crumble if he had disobedient thoughts outside of the tightly controlled arena of sex. This would go beyond breaking him and into crushing him, grinding his mind down like a spice leaf so that it could be sprinkled as seasoning onto whatever the Commodore saw fit.

The alien did not entirely understand why he himself felt this sense of urgency toward improving his methods, or why his return to Teryx's body had been accompanied by such a distressed -- indeed at times almost panicked -- sense of need to continue oppressing his host further. It wasn't merely agitation over that earlier confrontation in which Teryx saw through him; it was something more than that.

Perhaps... competitiveness. Competitiveness was not something which he naturally experienced, but he had inherited the capacity for it from Teryx, and Teryx could perhaps feel two people's worth of competitiveness as it was.

It was with all of these machinations in mind that Commodore Teryx sat down on a park bench one afternoon -- staring at the sky, and wondering for the first time in any serious capacity just what it all meant. Why he was here, why he existed in the first place as a creature that could only truly have a mind by making use of the neurology of another.

In spite of any appearances to the contrary, he now knew that hopes and dreams and aspirations were entirely modular to his situation. If unplugged from Teryx, he was as good as an instinct-driven robot, living or dying based on how those instincts fared in the environment into which they were dropped.

What was the point of that? It was like some kind of cosmic bad joke. Why make something that couldn't see, couldn't even properly hear...

He knew, of course, that he had been made. Everything about his situation suggested that was true, even though he knew very little about the intentions of these creators other than what was programmed into him.

Two more days. He'd have the weekend soon, and hopefully his rambunctious offspring would've calmed down a little by then.

It brought a smile back to his face as he momentarily considered how wild a ride Harry was being forced through. The text chats he had received indicated that Harry had not had any meaningful conscious control of himself just yet, instead being subjected to an ongoing dreamworld that Sir conjured on the fly -- a tale of tribal tiger warriors with insatiable sexual appetites and a love of torching their enemies' villages and breeding them cruelly while the structures around them burned. It sounded like Sir was actually pretty sharp at doing things, even if he was doing them differently than how Commodore himself would choose to do them. The idea of it made his palms sweaty.

Competitiveness. Was that really all this was? The Commodore had to wonder. In any case, he knew this much for certain: life had been much simpler when he had no peers.

Those days were gone forever, however, and the number of peers around would only continue to increase over time. Logic dictated that he should get over it, adapt, and move on.

Perhaps Teryx himself had some trouble adapting to such an issue. Perhaps he needed inspiration in the form of briefly being inserted into a different host who knew how to cope with that.

...No, screw that. He was a natural neurochemist. He'd find a way to hack Teryx's brain into the right state for all of this, even if it meant waking him up and dragging him more fully into their plan to burn the beach house.

Then, inspiration of a more uniquely Commodore-ish kind struck.

No. He wouldn't tell Teryx.

He would wake him up as a passenger in the "heat" of the moment and see how it went.

Glorious. Glorious! He grinned and laughed as only Teryx could, letting his mane blow in the breeze for a while before he walked off to try a local sushi place.

* * *

Teryx awoke, feeling groggy and lacking any control over his body. His field of vision showed Harry's hands and his own both grasping the Commodore's metal canister together. They were standing nude together along the water's edge, in the shallows. He thought he recognized this beach...

The dragon spoke up mentally: What's goin' on?

Commodore's reply was immediate, sounding almost scripted. We're communing with the can. I've had it under wraps in my apartment, but I thought taking it back to the beach house would be more appropriate.

Hey, you're saying "I" and "my"...

I suspected you'd like that. There's a surprise for you later, too.

Teryx was cautiously optimistic for a change. That sounds like the fun kind.

Oh yes. It'll be the hottest sex we've had in some time. He avoided placing any emphasis on the keyword that would've implied it had a double meaning.

Teryx wondered if Sir Harry was getting anything from this metal-touching exercise, but the Commodore didn't know.

"How odd," commented Sir Harry. "I feel like I know something now that I didn't know before, but I don't know what it is that I've learned."

"You sure? When we touched it before there were sensory images and consciously available information."

"Hrrm..." the tiger's ears flicked as his chest rumbled. "I hope the way I'm keeping Harry stuck in a dream didn't interfere with that."

"Might. Imagination takes a lot of brain power."

"Fine. I'll rearrange things and try again later. For now, I think it's time to get to the fun part."

"You're just set on this, aren't you?"

"You have no idea what it will do for him. For me." Sir Harry grinned.

"Fine, follow your muse. Let's get this over with."

Eh? I'm suddenly remembering the smell of petrol.

Commodore Teryx's eyes narrowed for a moment. Oh right, you're still observing. Can't have that just yet. Nighty night~

The host was outraged. Oh come on, at least give me a hin--

Teryx abruptly stopped and fell unconscious, and Commodore led the way into the beach house so that they could prepare the evening's encounter.

* * *

"Some men just want to watch the world burn," said "Harry" gleefully as he stood nude by the bed, watching the floor and walls of Teryx's beach house beginning to go up in flames around him.

Commodore Teryx was at a full kneel atop the bed, with both arms already spread, leather-cuffed, and rubber-corded to the headward bedposts; while his ankles were secured to, and forced apart by, a spreader bar.

The dragon had been physically helpless since before Sir Harry had lit the fuel. He could only tilt his head up and back a little as he made a remark, speaking loudly so as to talk over the growing crackle of the flames on the mostly wooden structure. "I've got to be up front about the results: this isn't doing much for me so far! I'm going to switch Teryx on and see how that changes."

Sir Harry turned, showing off his plump erection. "You do that, 'old man.' I'll have Harry dreaming of a fiery raid while we do this."

"How do you keep that up without causing a seizure?" remarked Commodore.

"Very carefully."

"Huh. I suppose I never tried."

"Sure didn't." He smirked and leaned down. "Now, are you going to put the fuckable dragon's mind in harm's way for me? I think that'd be the most enjoyable way."

"As you wish~"

Teryx found himself switched on, and in partial control of his body within the bonds. It was enough that he could glance around, take in the situation, and verbally react. Which he immediately did!

"Oh, oh sh... oh HELL NO."

Teryx tugged at the bond as the flames crept up the walls. The ventilation of the open door and window meant the heat was only sauna-like for now, but that was going to get a lot worse when the walls and ceiling started to combust... and then burning planks might fall down on them. The ample airflow and rather flammable construction of the little house ensured the fire would progress steadily.

His little beach house. His fridge over in the half-kitchen. His nightstand and chest of drawers. His little closet with his collection of fancy white towels that he kept around just in case he wanted to laze on one after a swim.

This was horribly wrong to Teryx on so many levels, but the most basic one was that of personal safety. He felt shyly horny when Commodore pushed him through something like a semi-public masturbation session but finding his body in a situation which could quickly cause death or severe injury if it got out of hand...

Teryx, for the first time in quite a while, wasn't sure how he felt about whatever decision of Commodore's had led to this point. He drew a blank. His trust was neither absolute nor thrown out, because he simply didn't have any frame of reference at all.

What he had was immediate and severe agitation that he himself was in danger and that his beloved beach house was being trashed in order to put him into that danger!

"Seriously, what the hell!" said Teryx. "Get me out of--"

"Aww, does little bondage dragon wanna mutiny all of a sudden?" Sir Harry mocked.

Teryx's ire rose by leaps and bounds. "Nngghh... fucking... MY HOUSE!! You are BURNING MY BEACH HOUSE DOWN!!"

Sir Harry felt around his waist and whistled. "Seems like at least one part of you is happy about it."

Just let it happen, soldier, said the Commodore in his head.

Teryx scrambled to find a rationale for any of this, and fast-talked accordingly: Fuck... I take it all back! I take back everything I said about you going soft, I swear!

That's not what this is about. Work with me. Enjoy it.

The tiger's thick cock pressed up against Teryx, covered in a water-based lubricant which he had over-applied in consideration of the heat. It dribbled down Teryx's spine while the tiger casually worked some more of the lube up Teryx's tailhole.

Hh... you sure you have this under control, Commodore?

Commodore's presence loomed silent and unhelpful in the back of Teryx's mind. Panic was brewing, and for the moment Teryx's sluggy friend didn't seem to be moving to intercept it in the slightest.

The fingers in Teryx's tailhole slipped out, leaving him with a cool and moist feeling inside. Then he heard a slight squeak as the lube bottle got compressed a little too hard by the tiger's over-eager hands. More of that wetness fell against the scales of Teryx's back, presumably because an excessive glob of the stuff had fallen between the tiger's fingers while trying to slather even more lube onto the barbed cock.

Commodore...? You know I could get hurt bad if he goes too far with this, right?

Still nothing.

What the fuck...

"Hey, slug-head tiger. Get me out of these things," Teryx said, forcing an authoritative tone despite how tightly his gut was wrenching itself with anxiety. How he still had an erection despite it all must be entirely the Commodore's doing.

As for Sir Harry's response, it gave Teryx a feeling like that of trying to reason with an automaton. The tiger didn't respond at all, as if he were now entirely focused on executing an action-by-action script that would lead formulaically to the act of anally penetrating and filling Teryx.

"Harry! Snap out of it!" Teryx yelled back at him, while unsure if it would have any effect at all. The name "Harry" produced a strange, second-nature jerk of the head so that their eyes met for an instant, but that was all. The excessively lubed cock then ground its way lower, leaving a path of wetness along Teryx's lower back and buttocks before Sir Harry's humping found the targeted hole.

Fffff...

I have to say, that one isn't very good at using his vessel under pressure just yet, Commodore snidely remarked.

Teryx was furious as the flames built insidiously higher around the room's perimeter, now beginning to catch alight some additional paper kindling that had been left strategically elevated on the various bedroom furniture.

You, Commodore... do something already!!

Now now, soldier... no disrupting training. You know I have to break you down until you show me how you really feel.

Teryx clenched his teeth as Sir Harry bottomed out in him -- way too fast, and bearable only because the amount of lube applied had been so wildly excessive. The dragon didn't know what to do. He certainly wasn't in the mood to fuck back against the burly, awkwardly controlled man who was currently a threat to his life.

You sadistic fuck...

No, that's not right and you know it. This is dispassionate experimentation. You have so much self-directed lust and adoration; now you must endure a situation that requires real courage to back them up. Who knows? Your terror or your bravery may create a new synthesis that feeds me better than anything else. I look forward to finding out.

Teryx growled in frustration. He literally did not have the brainpower available to him right now to argue whether or not that technically qualified as sadism. Somehow, in spite of everything, he could feel his growing arousal taking the edge off all his anger. He needed to do more than just make Sir Harry cum; now he "needed" to do it spectacularly, as only his awesome self could.

Yet, even with that enforced feeling of pride, there remained the percolating under-brew of fear and anxiety. His neck felt hot from some kind of overstimulation of his brain stem, or perhaps something to do with the amygdala in particular. Or maybe it was just the heat of the rising flames. The smoke was making the steamy air unpleasant to breathe and even less pleasant to feel brushing by his face.

"Ngh... fine, you horny cat. Do your worst. Just get your rocks off -- nnghh -- in time for us to get off this bed! -- Mnnghh...!!"

Sir Harry's only audible answer was a feral-sounding growl. A moment later, Teryx found himself being pressed forward and downward quite hard within his bonds. Sir Harry was practically riding atop him, straining the bedposts and causing an outrageous shaking noise that would've woke the neighbors if they had any, and if said neighbors weren't already up in alarm at the fact something was burning.

Why isn't he... thought Teryx in desperation as the flames continued to climb the furniture and creep wider toward the washroom at the back of the little house.

Commodore spoke up to interrupt. He won't cum as fast as you think a tiger would. I'm sure my offspring is managing that risk to his satisfaction. He sounded almost proud of the latter point, despite there being a slight edge of... something else less pleasant in his tone.

"Rrr, harder, you stupid cat! Get those instincts sated and undo this st--ghhck... fff..."

Somehow, the lube was already wearing thin from the tiger's overly vigorous thrusts and withdrawals, and the shaft's barbs were starting to express their nature. Teryx gritted his fangs and endured it, again hoping it would mean Sir Harry was about to reach a quick finish.

Don't count on it, my toy soldier.

Being called that caused a dollop of pre to form on Teryx's own cocktip. The sensations and mixed emotions were so overwhelming that he had nearly lost track of how hard he was, and how odd it felt as his erection bounced and balls sloshed in response to the tiger's movements.

Fwoooosh!!

A puddle of petrol left strategically in a corner near the toilet caught fire. It signalled a controlled acceleration of the process of burning down the little shack, and was accompanied by Sir Harry thrusting with heightened excitement.

Teryx remained bound to the bed while Sir Harry fucked him, and while the heatwaves from the fire grew more intense and began to cause minor burns along Teryx's neck and face, which were a little too close for comfort to some of the flames rising along the nearby wall. The heat, and the tiger's cock in his ass, provided both discomfort and bliss as the smoke rose around them.

The petrol which had just ignited continued to billow -- until it also sparked ablaze an additional, carefully placed arc of the stuff which had been arranged to connect the puddle near the washroom to the floor along the edges of their bed. These new flames now traced a path all the way around them, igniting the edges of the bedsheets themselves and intensifying their heat exposure considerably. For anyone who had ever compared lust to being caught in a ring of fire -- well, this was it, the definitive comparison.

It was one thing, of course, to damage one's body with precision, or even gentleness, during an erotic encounter. It was quite another to create a dangerous situation and let nature take its course, both within one's body and outside one's body. Those who played with fire could easily be burned... and in the case of this beach house, the structure and anyone lingering inside of it for too long would be toast.

Their plan, outrageous as it might have seemed on the face of it, was not illogical from the Commodore's point of view. It was, rather, experimental. For an alien slug primarily interested in neurochemistry, fear was a strange brew, and one whose exact qualities varied with circumstance. Perhaps this flavor of fear, mixed with the sex and the smoky heat, would provide a stranger and more delicious feast than anything that had come before.

Teryx, however, remained unaware of those particulars. Certainly, he was rock hard as the reaming of his imperiled body continued. The savagely minded Harry licked at his mane while the flames licked the edges of the bed. Smoke rose in a haze above them before filing lazily out the window into the calm, pre-dawn coastal air.

Teryx wanted to go. He really, really wanted to go, but he couldn't. Something was stopping him. Commodore was pushing the arousal button harder, as if commanding everything toward a breaking point. Meanwhile, the fear that Teryx had been fighting to suppress grew larger and more uncontrollable under the stress of imminent immolation.

Feel it, Teryx. Feel the heat, the terror, the powerlessness.

Sir Harry didn't seem to feel it. He just kept thrusting away, even as the fire burned up close to his stripe-furred ass. The sting of the heat seemed ineffective, as if he were a berserker who could not be stopped by pain.

As Harry's barbs raked back yet another furrow in his rectum, Teryx heard a wooden stool tip over as two of its legs became too consumed to hold it upright anymore. It fell toward them and fueled the fire near the bed directly behind where Harry was squatting over him, buffeting a wave of the flames in their direction.

"Ahhh, good little pricklers," commented Sir Harry. "Mm, but rest for a while... we've only juuuust begun~"

The barbs obediently settled down, returning to a state as if they had never fully deployed, and Harry's erection simply resumed being a rigid hard-on within the dragon.

Teryx let out a desperate roar of true fear. Even aside from worrying about Harry -- who in a sense, Teryx still felt like he barely knew -- he couldn't handle the combined stress of the situation. The heat. The lingering barb-stings. The fear for life and limb. The knowledge that he was mostly immobile and in the care of someone who was basically a zombie puppet for a newbie version of Commodore.

And... perhaps most distressingly of all, the knowledge that his Commodore seemed more amused by all of this than caring. What if it was all a lie? What if the slugs knew perfectly well that they didn't need any one particular host and could just kill them off and cycle through them? What if Teryx... what if he actually wasn't even important to the Commodore?

Waves of feared devaluation mixed themselves into the strange brew of his arousal and terror. Somewhere in his brain, Commodore found a newly exposed neural "button," and teased at it.

"Ahh... ohhh, please, please, please..." Teryx whimpered. The more he repeated the word, however, the less it sounded like begging, and the more it sounded like someone on the verge of blowing the hardest load of his life.

Sir Harry didn't care, and kept pounding him. The fire was getting close... much too close, now forcing Harry to scoot forward and strain Teryx's bonds even further. It was a good thing these bedsheets were relatively hard to burn, but that didn't stop the scent of fiery fabric from seeming noxious as the moments passed.

As the smoke flowed and the flames closed in, the dragon and tiger were panting like two exhausted beasts, their controllers forcing their performance beyond what would've naturally been possible. Teryx had a sense of this, but couldn't conceptualize it. His lungs stung; his body ached. His mind and emotions were breaking down, replaced with a whited-out lapse into something wonderful.

Teryx's cum pumped forth onto the bedsheets with a brutish and violent forcefulness, as if there were a squad of tiny, Commodore-shaped soldiers in his prostate working a machine to force it all to go out immediately. The associated pleasure had smashed his mind like a brick through glass, both despite and because of the desperation of the circumstances.

What was this complex feeling born from the idea that Commodore truly didn't care, and the horror which that might at first have implied? It was a backwards, perverse sense of personal significance: of being important enough to be worth destroying in this spectacularly overdone fashion, yet trivial enough to be expendable to a power far greater than himself. It was akin to being treated like a statue of some local deity, venerated and worshiped, and then smashed with a sledgehammer all in the expanse of a single event.

Teryx and Sir Harry both coughed as the smoke thickened and the small world around them burned. The wooden chest of drawers -- once a brief home to Commodore's canister -- was blazing red and orange in defeat. The nightstand by the bed was thoroughly engulfed, fueling the inevitable devouring of the walls themselves. The tip of Harry's tail got singed black as he whipped it too far toward one of the burning furnishings, yet he seemed all the more excited for it.

A dragon's endurance against smoke and flame were generally regarded to be pretty high, but the comfort of species-derived arrogance was not holding up under the prolonged tension of the moment. Much like the room's furniture, even that bit of Teryx's pride found itself combusting and falling apart.

"Heh... wanna get raked over the coals, dragon boy~?"

It was the first coherent sentence the tiger had said in some time, and it came so easily that it was perplexing. Still so hard. Still without cumming. Unless Teryx had missed the spasms, the tiger hadn't even produced a dry orgasm, though perhaps he just worked a bit different with those pleasures than Teryx did.

The dragon found the right amount of defiance hard to muster because of the terror that was paralyzing him as the flames grew higher... but then he found himself delivering it anyway without trying: "Mhgh... fuck you..."

Then Teryx noticed he didn't have control of his mouth and neck anymore.

Commodore had, by this point, perfected his imitation of Teryx's sassy refusals. The host literally could not have said it better himself -- nor made his sarcasm any more evident in the way his back arched and his butt pressed up tighter against Harry's waist, the tail curling around the big guy's ankles while the tiger's balls tightened along Teryx's cheeks.

"Ahh, no, fuck you, Teryx..."

"Don't bother saying my name. Just adore me with your body."

"I'll give the orders here," growled the tiger before digging his claws into Teryx's chest and humping harder. "More, gghgrrr..."

Let me talk! demanded Teryx's internally as he kept urgently clenching his ass around Harry's cock.

I'm better at it than you ever were, sneered Commodore.

I want to tell him to let us go! This place is going to fall on our head like a bucket of hot coals!

Focus on milking his dick like the slut you are, soldier.

Silently, Commodore had been using his influence to stall the effects of his host's afterglow, in order to keep muscle tension high enough to continue tending to the tiger's needs, and the fruits of this effort were apparent in how easy it now was for Teryx's walls to keep massaging the intruding cock. Stalling the afterglow wasn't ideal for Commodore's feeding, but getting Harry to cum at a reasonable rate was relevant to maintaining the host body's safety, and that took precedence over increasing his energy stores for the time being.

However, this unsaid protective angle of Commodore's was of no comfort whatsoever to Teryx himself, for whom the lack of an afterglow meant a lack of any meaningful relief to the anxiety which had been building up within him alongside the pleasure. In a departure from how things had often been between them lately, when Commodore gave him this order to keep milking, Teryx felt genuinely obstinate. Not kinky-obstinate, but willfully disobedient because he was doubting the Commodore's motives so intensely, and because the circumstances were making panic grow within him like a fiercely dragonish monster all its own.

While Commodore handled the external sass-talk, Teryx could still feel all of the heat and hear the menacing way that parts of the roof were starting to crackle. The bedcovers were igniting around and behind them. The heat in the room was becoming unbearable, and the smoke was getting to be uncomfortable even for Teryx's draconic lungs. The flow of it pointed through the bedside window at his left, their logical way out from this self-created mess, but no one was letting him leave. He was trapped here, mere meters away from safety, in a place which could kill him.

Sir Harry did not appear to share Teryx's desire to accelerate the encounter. If anything, he was slowing down again, placing his thrusts more deliberately to soak in more pleasure from the plateau phase. He shoved his face down into Teryx's mane for a deep breath, as if attempting to use it as a filter for any larger burning matter that might be adrift on the air.

Then, he bit down on Teryx's scruff, letting the thrusts wax even slower and more lavish.

While thinking about all of these things, and not milking the tiger's cock like a good soldier-slut, the terrified Teryx discovered that he no longer had control of his body either.

Commodore! We have to go!

If you won't even handle my basic orders, said Commodore incisively, then you will be punished. Enjoy being wide awake for this, you worthless pawn.

The words stung like the heat of the flames, and for the moment produced the harsher burn, though given how things were progressing up the walls and along the ceiling all around them, that balance was soon to tip in the other direction.

Crack! Crackle...

That was the sound of a wall popping a hole open due to all of the burning, allowing an extra flow of air inside which fed even more oxygen to the flames. It seemed the thin, dry paneling of the walls was burning faster than the synthetic fiber of the heavier bedcovers.

Please, groveled Teryx as his body kept milking and moaning like an automaton. I don't want to be here anymore.

"C'mon, you can do better than that," quipped Commodore Teryx to the tiger. "You want the heat turned up? Why not turn it up inside me, ya lazy cat?"

"Heheh... Commodore," the tiger murred, "you should know I do the best at turning up inside my host."

Commodore's comments, lazily coaxing the cat to accelerate the encounter, were of no comfort. Teryx, the host himself, had reached the proverbial situation of having no mouth and desperately needing to scream. He struggled adamantly for control, but only got prickles in his limbs -- as if through willpower he woke them from a sleeping state, only to have them immediately zonked back out again.

The blaze was deepening around them, the flames creeping inward along the middle of the wall toward their escape window. Soon there would be fiery bits dropping from the ceiling. Doing anything about it would be impossible with his arms bound like this, his legs spread, a bodybuilding tiger fucking him, and an alien slug robbing him of conscious mobility.

Bound. Paralyzed.

The terror in Teryx's brain intensified, and made Commodore's job of holding everything together more complicated. Spontaneous imaginings of a burning ceiling falling upon them invaded their mind. Commodore had not accounted for the specific and quite compelling fear of being buried alive in burning wreckage, and moved to contain it as quickly as he could, even as he kept acting the part of Teryx to the outside world as if it were a mere triviality.

"Don't you wanna cum anytime soon, kitty~?" Commodore Teryx teased, his nonchalance still boundless. "You don't seem like you're trying too hard. Why don't you slap me around a little, shove my nose in the fire? I bet you'd like hearing me scream~"

In a series of vague grunts which sounded more like a mentally altered Harry than like Sir, the tiger replied, "Ugh... I... like that! Make, dragon... hrrrh..."

Then, in a voice which was clearly identifiable as Sir due to its calm smugness, the tiger continued: "I won't give you the satisfaction. You do your experiment on your host, and I'll do mine. This might technically be sex, but it's more like neurochem lab for two."

The tiger's cock throbbed and swelled somehow fuller, pushing its limits. There was no love at all in this from Sir's end, and seemingly only the most alien kind of lust, piggybacking off of the rawness of Harry's manipulated instincts.

"Unh... need... more... mooaar... mrrawwwr~" grunted Harry a moment later.

Then the tiger went quiet, and his posture and bearing of his muscles changed. His motions seemed to be losing their personality and becoming zombie-like, or perhaps robotic. It was like he was a character whose movements had been rigged up in a 3D animation program and set to loop: repetitive, almost too firm, and uncannily stiff... with his member rigid and proud within Teryx all the same. The only saving graces for it were an unnaturally ample flow of precum and the continued relaxation of the barbs.

Teryx didn't know what to make of any of that, and Commodore kept mum about it. That added uncertainty, like the last straw upon the camel, sent Teryx's mood spiraling into despair.

These strange behaviors by Sir and Harry -- they were just more grand designs by the slugs, more memories and knowledge to which he wasn't privy. More evidence that Teryx didn't matter to either of them, in spite of what the complexities of their interactions might mislead him to believe.

Emotionally, the dragon was crumbling, his immobilized fear giving way to despondency, just as his beach house would surely crumble soon around as well. The fire was going to consume him, and that... that would be that. That would just be that.

Teryx wept in his head. He could not shed tears, for the Commodore owned those too. He instead replayed a remembered sound of himself from an embarrassing, very difficult night from his younger days.

But when Teryx started to feel that way -- when he started to give up, sulk, and tune out the threats around him -- he inexplicably felt even angrier_again. Suddenly he had more fight again, _more frustration... and more nervousness, pounding within him until his heart felt as if it might explode.

The flames drew nearer, now catching better even along the difficult bedsheet fibers. It wouldn't be long before the fires nipped at their knees and their toes, bit into their calves and burnt poor Harry's fur. Harry, an innocent-enough bystander whom Teryx, the patient zero, had dragged into this merely by existing.

Commodore... stop this. Stop this you reckless asshole!!

The slug was silent. The tension pushed higher; his erection throbbed hotter. How he was hard at all right now would've seemed impossible, except he knew it wasn't. Commodore was showing off. Commodore was proving through this outrageously egotistical display just how deep the control extended.

A storm's eye developed within the maelstrom of Teryx's fears. Maybe Commodore really was about to discard him like some sacrificial pawn. Somehow, that thought became like a rallying banner with bullet holes already shot in it, hanging over the battlefield of Teryx's emotional state. As much as he was terrified, he was also now furious. He growled and snarled, somehow getting a moment of control of his maw again. He let out a guttural roar as the tiger continued ball-slapping robotically against his rear. He would fight! He would overcome! He would...

He would nothing. He was the loser. Teryx could feel the control creeping into him again, the rage curbing, the fear deepening and becoming more and more sexualized, as if to consume him before the fire could.

But then Teryx received a little "gift" from above.

A tiny orange flake, less than a centimeter wide, fell lazily down from a burning spot where the wall in front of Teryx met the ceiling above it. This fiery tidbit landed directly on the dragon's nose, at the sensitive fringe of a nostril. Despite its small size, the pain from the heat of it was impressive.

"ARGH!! Fuuuuck!!"

Commodore had at first willingly allowed Teryx that little gasp of motor control, to enable fuller emotional expression and struggling in this delightfully tense moment... but now, this adrenaline rush, set off by a random speck of burning ash, was allowing the host's panic to burst further through those loosened boundaries, like water breaking through the cracks in a dam. He made a coldly academic mental note to alter his approach slightly in the future.

"Gotta get outta here!!" shouted Teryx as freedom of speech and motor control both returned more fully to him... but the tiger just kept thrusting like a sex zombie, and said nothing in reply.

A sudden, splitting headache -- the Commodore's first countermeasure -- amplified Teryx's sense of confusion. Frantic, he yanked at the cords, flexing his muscles and managing to break the bedpost at his left, whose base was already partially burned. He slung it to one side and whipped his hand so that the securing end of the rubber cable slipped free of it, and then turned and began neurotically biting at the cord holding the other hand. It might've made more sense to try breaking it off as he had the first one, but Teryx was descending into a near-feral state not thinking with much logic.

Mmm, these evolving waves of your fear... are so interesting, remarked the Commodore, as if speaking of the taste of a new and surprisingly delicious food. Still, these antics must end soon, and that end must begin with you.

Teryx ignored him, insisting upon immediate action for survival: Quiet! We have to...

You _ have to obey._

"Ghhck..." burbled Teryx as the Commodore made another firm push to regain control.

Listen to my commands, Teryx. Cease this pointless insubordination.

N-no...

Teryx clenched his teeth so hard, and pulled with such force, that he managed to snap the other cord. Then he tried to scramble forward and flopped onto his face, annoying Sir Harry who just pressed him down onto the sheets and kept reaming him at that scarily slow and measured pace.

Fuck. The spreader, thought Teryx. His legs still were still cuffed to it and too wide to fit through the window. He could free himself now, if he could just get his heavyweight companion to kindly get off and then get off of him.

Teryx growled savagely as the flames licked his nose over the edge of the bed. The window, so close to his left, yet so far. Why hadn't he tried to break his bonds from the moment this all started? Had he just not been scared enough? Or had the Commodore been blocking the idea from coming to mind?

More importantly, why was it suddenly so much harder for him to try to resist Sir Harry's weight?

You are mine, Commodore clarified.

Shut up. Just shut up and let me move my body to get out of here!!

Teryx shook as Harry kept up that almost robotic thrusting. The dragon's muscles now had all of the agility of molasses. He could feel Commodore continuing the struggle for control, his head pounding harder. Teryx's ass started to tingle inside, as if he might be close to having a purely anal orgasm of his own... maybe just a sneaky enticement from his superior officer.

His superior officer.

Whom he must obey.

_Obey. Obey. Obey. _

"F... fuck," groaned Teryx, now dizzy and so heat-burned along his face that he felt ready to pass out.

Then the headache was gone. Teryx's cock leaked precum in a profuse surge, despite his earlier mess. His cock throbbed, and the walls of his ass started rhythmically, methodically clenching.

Teryx must be sustained for prolonged use, declared Commodore in the dragon's head, slipping into his dispassionate alien tone as he focused intently on the neurochemical control.

The fear glazed over, if only for a moment. The pain of the flames licking at his face and his sides from all around now seemed dulled... negligible. He must milk the tiger's cock with his rear. He must serve. The commands filled him, overshadowed him and all of his terror. As if in mental freefall, he sank into the grip of his controller's power, and found himself fully a body-puppet once more.

With that controlling equilibrium reestablished, Commodore's voice shifted back into the highly dominant mode that his name implied. Your terrified flesh will not escape this mess until the one in charge makes it so, he said to the broken dragon within, as a point of indoctrination.

Commodore seemed to be waiting for something, but Teryx said nothing. He merely struggled in silence to accept it, while his instinctive terror buttons got pressed again and again by the encroaching heat and structural cracking. He could not cry out, and instead felt the terror seething its way lower... somehow following the nerves from his snout, down his neck, and into his chest and abdomen. From there it pooled, before sheer fear of his controller's power pushed it lower... into his groin.

Teryx's cock twitched in pathetic urgency. The pleasure almost stung as it got confused with the pain of the nearby fire. Yet it wouldn't stop; now, the more Teryx wanted to scream, it would only pulsate harder. Faster. Needier.

Even if your mane burns off, you are still mine and not yours. You move on my command and no other, not even your instinct for survival. Is that clear?

Teryx's precum dispensed itself in an amount that looked more like a small ejaculation of its own. It squirted out onto the hot sheets of the bed as the Commodore's strong compulsions made both body and mind his "toy soldiers."

Is that clear , soldier?

Crack... clunk... THUNG! He heard a metallic clank as something in the kitchen fell from one of the counters.

Too much... he had to...

His abs twitched twice before it all gushed out of him. Fear, defiance, panic... everything.

Yes, Commodore.

His semen was sputtering and oozing onto the heated bedsheets once more. Like the last broken pieces of him offering themselves to Commodore's governance.

No more resisting.

Yes, Commodore!

Clunk! Then a rushing sound of more rapidly spreading flame.

Be as one with me.

Yes, Commodore!

Teryx was scorched. Teryx should've been aching. Teryx was shuddering and coughing and having trouble seeing through the smoke. There was the smell of burning rubber from the slipped-off end of the rubber cord that was still attached the cuff on his left hand. Yet, still he was here, controlled and made to obey, his cock utterly rigid and his semen production in a state of wild overdrive. His shaft was still pulsating, his body still forcing out more of the milky fluid than he had ever thought possible for him to have had... drop after milky drop.

And now -- now that it no longer mattered, no longer could matter to Teryx's sensibilities, so deep as he now was within the Commodore's thrall -- the tiger finally started to throb in that intermittent, powerful fashion that suggested he was ready to finish. He also started to thrust faster, more animalistically from his waist and buttocks, as if genuine lust from deep within was finding its way to the surface again at last.

Primal growls, which the Commodore likewise knew to mean Harry was quite close to cumming, accompanied these more vigorous movements. Commodore's working theory was that Sir had linked up portions of the real-world sensory experience to whatever kinky dream Harry was having, but had only started doing it partway through their encounter -- and that these groans were manifestations of Harry being on the verge of a climax that would claim his dream self and his physical body both at once. True to form for Sir, it seemed as elegant and artistic in its concept as it was neurochemically brutish in its implementation.

Commodore hoped he was right about all of that, but investigation would take time and conversation; they had bigger fish to fry for the moment... or, rather, two important non-fish to save from getting fried.

A drip of saliva fell from the tiger's maw into Teryx's shoulder. Then, there was a louder rumbling, and the humping became urgently uptempo.

"Time to go, kitty," said Commodore Teryx. "Let it all out into your fancy bitch of a dragon."

"Hrhghrrr... rrghhr..."

Totally bestial. It almost seemed as if Sir had taken the backseat. The tiger's barbs expressed themselves again at long last.

"That's it, big guy... just use me as your cum dumpster. Your handsome, almost-burning rubbish bin."

As much time as he had spent in Teryx's body, Commodore felt as if he wanted the satisfaction of the tiger blowing his damn load into him too... but these flames really were getting needlessly harmful to their bodies now by their proximity. Teryx was going to have some black spots on the ol' mane, that was for sure. What a desire for vengeance that would surely induce in the rain dragon once Commodore eventually loosened his control.

Notably, the Commodore's speculation had been mostly accurate. Somewhere in the depths of Harry's mind, far from any authentic awareness of what was physically going on, the tiger was dreaming of being bound up and slowly masturbated near a tribal fireplace, by the strong hand of that better version of himself. He was getting close, now quite near to the edge. The stronger one's grasp felt engulfing, like a tailhole that was skillfully working to make him let it all out. In the fringes of his thoughts, there was a strange fear that if he didn't finish soon, he might slide inescapably into the fireplace, but the one stroking him was in control of when he would cum. He could not cum until the better him allowed it. That was very important.

"Cum, Harry," said the one in control.

"Yes, Sir," replied the obedient tiger.

So aggressive by nature, yet so willing once dominated. Harry felt himself cum from the depths of his mind, and it soon became reality in the surface consciousness over which Sir was exerting his direct and puppeteering control. Amid growls, Sir Harry ran his claws down Teryx's abs, flicked his feline tail to one side, and poured forth a load of impressive proportions. Nowhere near enough to put out the fire around them, but enough to sate the flames of the tiger's need.

"Out the window, you first," Sir Harry promptly commanded, while smoothly moving both hands to undo Teryx's spreader bar cuffs. The tiger's wet clock slid free of Teryx's ass a moment later, at long last allowing the dragon physical freedom to flee.

Had Commodore decided to delay longer, Teryx's body would not have so much as flinched, so dominated as it now was. However, Commodore Teryx knew the urgency of the situation perfectly well and did not wait any longer. He took his fellow alien at his word, leaping through the window before rolling like a barrel over the sand. The heat of the burning rubber caught him along his midriff, and also singed his fingers as he clumsily tried to get it away from him. The adrenaline surge seemed to come back into prominence for just a moment, before being somehow muted, and then Teryx just felt weird and woozy and didn't want to move. He lay facedown, vaguely facing what was left of their beach-house-turned-bonfire.

He watched Sir Harry emerge as well, beating ignition from the end of his tail and rolling in the sand to ensure no other bit of him was burning.

With that all done, the Commodore finally allowed that delayed afterglow to strike Teryx's mind in full.

The host, now "freely" back in control of his body, breathed a deep sigh of relief -- twisted over to rest on his back. Sand on his rear, cum dribbling from his ass, the sounds of fire and ocean both near his nude form...

"Not bad, Commodore. Not bad. Some very interesting data from this."

That freedom of control was gone again as soon as Teryx heard Commodore's name.

As for the content of what Sir had said, the words sounded almost humorous coming from Harry's mouth. Harry was not the sort to talk science, nor had Sir seemed quite as numbers-focused as Commodore in the first place, but perhaps even the creative and illusion-loving offspring slug knew how to talk shop with his kin when a situation required it. Commodore certainly hoped so.

"Save it. Finish feasting first," said Commodore Teryx, approaching with his arms folded before indulging his nerves in a tall, full-body stretch.

Harry's body language was not so exuberant. "Heh. Was it good for you two?"

"Mmm, quite~"

Sir did not seem to share Commodore's level of satisfaction, but they could indeed compare notes later as to why. Perhaps this would help to direct their future efforts.

In the meantime... well, scooting a short distance away and just cuddling while they watched the house burn down seemed like a fine enough course of action.

Gotta say though, commented Teryx, I don't think burning the house was worth it.

You'll watch your house burn and like it, replied his master.

Yes, Commodore.

Teryx didn't wait for the enforced haze of glad feelings to arrive before he said it. At this point, he genuinely believed that it was better not to keep his commodore waiting. Now, as he watched the flames claim the beach house, he couldn't help admiring them. They looked... almost beautiful. A sign of the power the Commodore and his race would have, to force people to act even against their own interests... or to twist those interests so much that even a usually discouraged action might feel absolutely wonderful.

Teryx's cock remained rock hard, even as he took in the waves of his stalled bliss.

* * *

The next sensation Teryx had was of closed-eyed blackness, with the sound of the ocean waves nearby, and Commodore's voice speaking dramatically in his thoughts.

Commodore's log: that one afternoon when we burned the beach house down. When rendered unable to express his fear and nerves, the host's destructiveness and anxiety turned inward at a shocking pace, triggering a cycle of self-devaluation and paranoia as a way of distancing himself from the danger in progress around him. Some way of enticing the host to remain invested in the body will remain crucial to optimizing him as a food source in such circumstances. In further confirmation of earlier findings, today's experiment suggests that Teryx always tastes better when he delusionally thinks he has a fighting chance. The fear was a delectable addition, but its usefulness is not sustainable without struggle.

Teryx had only a feeble response. You... weren't supposed to see me like that. I never let myself get that scared of things.

Commodore chuckled internally. You say that like I didn't already know you had it in you. I simply didn't know how it would all interact. Now I do. I don't think I will be putting you into too many burning houses in the future.

Not "too many"?

Shhh. I'll explain more later.

Teryx tentatively attempted to move his body but discovered, to no great surprise, that he was now strapped securely into the passenger seat of his mind. It was Commodore who opened his host's eyes and reached out to the tiger, who was lying on the sand in what was either a nap or some very advanced kind of daze.

"Hey. Hey cat, wake up," said Commodore Teryx while rustling his partner's arm.

"Grrf.... Mhnn... kinda hot, gotta say. Want some water, body needs water soon."

"Yes, that will happen when you nearly kill us by fire, smoke, and heatstroke," he chided.

"Hey, don't try to parent me about it now," the tiger grumped as he pulled his meaty torso upright from the sand. "I saw how real you were letting him be. You were loving watching him squirm."

"Love has nothing to do with it. This is a numbers game."

"Hah, whatever." The tiger got to his feet and took a few experimental steps. "Sheesh, what's all this discomfort in the tail and the backs of my legs, and ass?"

"...I believe those would be called superficial heat burns. In your brilliance you managed to set this ploy up so that you nearly turned your rump into buttered tiger toast."

"Hey, there was no 'butter' on my butt. Sir Harry doesn't accept a tender application of lube from anybody."

"That remains to be proven in future encounters," said the dragon with a smirk. "Regardless..."

Teryx stood up, his erection still somehow present and bouncing slightly as he rose.

Are you sure you didn't give us an erection that's going to last longer than four hours, or whatever that medical statistic is? the host quibbled from the background of Commodore's thoughts.

Shhh, you're loving it and I can feel it.

I might be. Kinda wanna shove it in the ass of this prick who budded off from you.

Tempting, but we'll have to save that for later.

Teryx played the sound of a sigh. Yes, Commodore.

That internal conversation happened swiftly, while the two were still getting their bearings. During that time, both the dragon and the tiger also took a moment to look around the area, and at the destruction the fire had wrought.

There was something almost majestic about the sight.

Smoke was still rising out of the debris, but while there were still several glowing spots here and there, the fire had mostly gone out. Still, it had certainly left its mark on the place: the once-proud retreat had been reduced to nothing but a massive wreckage, and most of Teryx's belongings were burnt beyond recognition.

Some of the larger items were still discernible, however. The bed they had used in their intense lovemaking was now buried under the rubble from the ceiling, but the ruined mattress was still visible through some cracks in the debris. In what used to be the kitchen, the refrigerator had toppled over, though it appeared to have mostly remained intact.

Nearby, the bathtub and sink remained largely identifiable as well, albeit blackened from all the soot and dust. Gushes of water were pouring out from some broken pipes still, the spurts weak and seemingly half-hearted as though emphasizing its defeat in the face of the raging inferno. The water pressure this far out had never been the greatest anyway, but Commodore Teryx made a mental note to make sure to turn it off at the source before he returned to the city.

A sudden breeze picked some of the soot up from the smoldering ruins and scattered them into the environment. The contrast between the beauty of the pristine beach to the ruined abode was made even more apparent as the blackened flecks adorned the sand.

As if to further punctuate this scene of utter destruction, the remnants of the hatstand, which had been leaning against some unidentifiable debris, fell over with a thud after being caught by the wind.

Really... there was something to be said about the house of a dragon burning down. Let alone it being the house of a rain dragon.

So... mind telling me why any of this happened? asked Teryx at last.

That's awfully polite of you. We did burn your beach house down after all.

I don't think being mad is going to help me any. I just want to know why.

That's fair. I'll tell you when I can.

Teryx felt some unease. I'm about to get switched off now, aren't I?

You're learning!

Just like that, Teryx's mental thread shut down again.

"Teryx is now off," said Commodore to his offspring's host. "We can discuss our results without the bother of him hearing."

Sir Harry still seemed... a bit too lazy for that notion, yawning and stroking at himself idly as he watched the wreckage crackle and fade to black.

"Ahhh, but 'Dad,' you know it sucks talking about something so serious right after something so fun..." The tiger's hands clawed playfully at the air in his direction, pantomiming the motion of a scratching at a wooden post.

"Pfft. Burning the beach house was serious. No mistake about that. Look at this!"

Sir Harry said, "It was... awesome, I believe my host would say."

"Yes, yes, quite awesome," agreed Commodore Teryx. "It produced an immense outpouring of tasty neural reactions, on which I enjoyed feasting. What I still feel the need to discuss is why."

"I don't follow."

Commodore Teryx gestured emphatically toward the smoldering wreckage. "This! Your host craved this. My host craves endlessly cyclical abuse and defiance, though I suppose today proved that even that has its limits."

"And your point?"

"Ugh... you have inherited your tiger's meatheaded nature."

"I have not! Tell me what you really mean to talk about and stop skirting around it."

Commodore Teryx rolled his eyes and brushed some dust off his mane. "Pff, fine. The issue is, dare I say it, a philosophical one!"

"Which doesn't sound like something that should ever concern us much."

"You're supposed to be the artsy one! Don't you even wonder what it's all about? What this desperate need in these creatures is, to rebel against norms and authority? Why does it fill them with an excitement that rivals even the pleasures of food, drink, and lust?"

Sir Harry laughed. "You're asking for logic and sense from meat-and-bones vessels whose highest form of bliss involves convulsing involuntarily and excreting a little bit of liquid that their bodies purposefully wad up within them as part of their mating cycle. They don't make sense, Commodore. They never have and never will. That's what they make art for -- to make sense of the insensible."

"I don't believe that."

Sir Harry shrugged. "Oh, come on. No points for saying something profound?"

"It's only profound if it means something."

"Whatever! We should be thankful that their bodies feel good to be inside of while also being nourishing to us."

Commodore Teryx sat on a nearby rock and brushed at his mane some more with one hand, taking his time in tidying it up. "Heh. It's all an illusion, you know. You and I, our 'real' bodies, we don't 'feel' anything. We are tiny, nested, almost undetectable creatures. Hopelessly incomplete -- by design. We don't feel one way or another, at least not when we don't have a body to feel those emotions with. Everything you think about who you are, it's just a quirk of how we exist. You'll stop feeling most of that quite suddenly if you're ever unplugged. You should remember that before you become too cavalier."

"Haha... being outside of him changed you. I get it... but you surely remembered something about what it had been like to be Teryx. You must've understood what you had done, surely. I seem to have carried over plenty of memories from my time as him."

"Yes, I recalled them in a truncated fashion, but it no longer felt like any of it was 'mine,' even the things I knew I had made him do. It was no more correct to call him 'me' than for a child to say that of a doll they were manipulating with their hands."

"Mmm. Children don't become one with their toys. We do. Maybe you aren't giving us 'slugs' enough credit."

Commodore shrugged. "Maybe we both aren't giving these muscles and bones enough credit. In the end, we must take care of each other. Controller and controlled."

"Hah! Precisely. Doesn't mean we can't have fun though!"

The dragon's tail twitched against the sand. "Fun or not is ultimately irrelevant to our purpose... but, yes. I think we shall have quite a lot of fun indeed. We owe it to our hosts, after all, to put them through the most exciting and satisfying personal dramas they have ever experienced."

"The most pleasurable sensations."

"The most extreme stunts, within calculable reason... and I suppose more mundane things as well. We can make them all better. We can rule this world in the true sense: measured, logical, managed... proper."

Sir Harry slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "Hey, ease up! I didn't know your real body had grown a cock since we last fought!"

Commodore grinned and spoke in a sinisterly innocent tone: "Whatever are you talking about? This is my body, and this is my cock. I'm Teryx."

"Oh, I don't mean the +10 Dragonforged Lance down there." He pointed momentarily at Teryx's erection, which through the miracles of alien chemistry had still not softened at all. "I'm talking about the throbbing, alien-slug ego erection that I hear in your words."

"Psssh. Don't be nonsensical. You have as much of a boner for taking over this world as I do. You also shouldn't use nerd speak; it's out of character for Harry."

"Uh-huh. Harry, who is a gigantic closet nerd."

Commodore squinted. "Really?"

"Really. See? You haven't been in this host. You don't know me anymore!"

The dragon grinned as if accepting a challenge. "Oh, but I do. I know because you come from me. You are me."

"Ah-ah!" The tiger's tail swayed. "I'm a contextually different variation of you!"

Commodore's grin broadened, showing off some of Teryx's fangs. "And that is what keeps it interesting. Come!"

"Not right now, thanks," the tiger teased, making a quick brush down his own abdomen and across his spent cock and balls. "Still recovering from the last time~"

Commodore shook his head briefly. "You know what I mean."

The dragon offered the tiger his hand, which the latter took after chuckling and smirking.

"Now we are being boyfriends. You know how to be boyfriends, right?" teased Commodore.

"Shush, Dad~" said Sir Harry with an exaggerated eye-roll and grunt of disdain.

They walked along the beach for a while, often keeping the ocean at their backs to marvel further at the destruction their earlier romp had wrought.

"Pretty sure boyfriends usually don't burn each other's houses down," opined Sir Harry. "That's not normally a thing, right?'

Commodore Teryx shook his head. "I conclude that we did it for science. That is all I will say on the matter for now."

They walked a bit further, feeling along one another's forearms and trying to get the posture of a romantic walk on the beach right. With neither of their hosts switched on, it was a little awkward. The often ended up accidentally in a stiff, marching-like step that mimicked each other's motions too closely. It wasn't quite right... but they would get it, with time. They looked each other in the eyes, and each trusted that the other understood that much, in spite of their disagreements.

The entire time, though, Teryx's cock was bobbing along as they went.

A few more seconds later, Teryx found himself switched back on.

So... you want some revenge, soldier? Commodore asked.

Is that a serious offer?

For the next five minutes, I will simply forget that I'm supposed to be in control of you. Your erection will be just as firm as it is now for the entire duration, guaranteed. How does that sound?

It sounds like Sir Harry should've kept his bottle of lube on hand.

How unfortunate, said Commodore with infinite sarcasm.

Teryx indulged in the schadenfreude alongside his controller. I guess "later" has arrived.

The look on Sir Harry's face was priceless as Teryx's shoving arms made contact with his lower back. Harimau Pasir did not produce that "surprised cartoon tiger with wide eyes" face very often, but when he did, it was vivid.

Poomf. Harry caught himself on his hands, on the moist part of the sand near the active tide. Then Teryx's arms were on his shoulders and a hot dragon dick was brushing up along his spine.

Sir Harry grunted and shoved upwards, but was surprised to find how committed Teryx was to the act of pinning him down. Whether it was purely a difference in leverage or if there was an adrenal factor in play as well wasn't clear, but Harry's controller was finding it hard to get his body to do what he wanted.

The tiger thrust a shoulder to one side to try to smack Teryx's face and hopefully knock him off, but the dragon caught the movement and whipped his neck aside to dodge it, growling in response. Then Sir Harry was growling too -- and flicking his tail in annoyance.

"Get off," said Sir Harry.

"That's the idea~" growled Teryx.

The tiger rolled to one side, but again Teryx moved with him rather than getting caught by it. The dragon's erection loomed over his abs instead.

"Hot bod you've got there. Hope you don't mind giving me some fiery passion to return the favor."

Teryx grabbed him under the neck, not with any intent of actually strangling him, but as a kind of payback for the fear he had been put through earlier. The tiger roared, grabbed Teryx's wrist, and slung it aside, but didn't follow up properly with a counter-maneuver.

"What are you playing at?" Sir Harry growled. "This experiment is over! It's time for us to rest."

"Rest, huh?"

Even before Sir called attention to it, Teryx was noticing how exhausted and sluggish Harry looked. Whatever Sir had been doing to him, the overloaded manipulation of his brain had left him feeble compared to his usual fighting strength, as if he were suffering some kind of neurological burnout. Perhaps it was like the disorientating headaches that would follow times of intense, prolonged dreaming for some people.

"I do not consent to this!" complained Sir Harry.

"Yeah, neither did I when your 'dad' first took me over. Doesn't mean I haven't learned to enjoy it. Why don't you let someone stronger than you show you a good time."

"Grrrh..."

"Hah, you're getting hard again. You're just like Commodore. You're going to milk the pleasure he experiences as I do this. That sense of struggle and defeat..."

Teryx hoisted Harry's thighs upward and lunged into rough, missionary penetration. The only lubrication was Teryx's pre -- which, mercifully for Sir Harry, was flowing copiously again.

The tiger was tight and unready, and roared out and clawed at the sand as he found Teryx pushing into him. He also kicked his legs and made a show of things. For a moment, Teryx could've sworn that the angry gaze looking back at him was the real Harry, pushed to the front by the controller who couldn't handle being beaten.

Well, if that was Harry... this was just the first of many times that would be happening to him. Teryx felt no remorse. Giving in to the dark side had never felt so structured and so good... practically staged for him.

The thrusting was so rough that it scooted Harry back along the sand, leaving an indentation in the shape of the tiger's torso. His claws, likewise, raked gradually backward and around as he growled his protests. Teryx only grew bolder, stronger, the farther along they went. He loved seeing that asshole's ears flick humiliatedly against the incoming tide. He relished watching him keep up that ineffectual half-struggle, knowing there was no way between the tiger's current state and the controller's secret self-interests that he wouldn't submit in the end.

With time Harry seemed to get over the pain and annoyance of the penetration... and when he did, he reached up to grab hard on Teryx's sides, as if it were about to try to throw him. Then those strong fingers lost their grip, unable to follow through on the action as the dragon kept fucking him faster. Harry's erection bounced hot and wild along his own abs... and then the inevitable moment came.

"Ahhhrr... GGHHRRR!!"

Harry's barbs deployed just before he painted his own torso with a modest load.

"So fast this time," said Teryx darkly, his own thrusting not stopping and his body seeming unnaturally hardy as it kept going. "Now that you aren't torturing me in a burning house."

"Teryx, stop... it's not..."

"Don't try to pretend you're him, Sir. I don't even know this man, not really... but I know we're going to get to know each other plenty well."

"Ghhf... it's too much. My host can't take much more of this overstimulation. You must stop."

"Maybe you should've asked me how much I could take."

Teryx bottomed out and stayed there, ramming against the tiger in short motions.

Sir Harry was not amused, least of all by how there still seemed to be no end in sight. "Grrhgh! Commodore! Stop your puppet's antics!"

Of course, he surely did like how Harry was reacting, as long as it didn't really go beyond the limit of what was sustainable. These slugs and their games. Commodore had taught Sir so well... but Teryx had also had a chance to learn from the same playbook thanks to his own experience.

"Heh, heheh..." chuckled Teryx.

Go ahead. Indulge, said Commodore.

I'll do even better than that. I'll make you proud of me.

Glaring and adopting a stone-cold face devoid of caring, Teryx tried mimicking the subtly different way of speaking that he had noticed Commodore using with Sir Harry. That "almost Teryx, yet uncannily alien" tone.

"This has nothing to do with our experiment," said Teryx as he pounded the tiger's ass harder again. "This is to show that you... are the inferior controller, Sir. Not expecting this as you should have. You know I'm as smart as you are. You know you came from me!"

"Grrrrll, then make him cum in me and get it over with... gh--aah!! Easy on the prostate!!"

Teryx was succeeding. His heart pounded. His mind sang with elation. He was pretending to be Commodore and doing a good job of it.

"You bitch," Teryx continued. "you're no better than the cat you chose to inhabit... and unlike you, I don't need to nearly kill us both in a fire to show how big a load my host can shoot. You wanna know why?"

Sir Harry's reply was a lower, more defeated growl. He shook in time with Teryx's thrusts, but did not speak. The dragon smiled and went quiet for a moment, as if to let the question sink in, but continued to speak with his body.

His body. His strong, vigorous, attractive body. His handsome form, now host to something otherworldly -- that presence in his brain which he could feel even now pressing his sense of dominance and arousal to previously impossible heights.

For an exquisite moment, Teryx remained in conscious control but felt no separation at all. He did as Commodore would do, and he was Commodore. Masterful. Inscrutable. His thoughts both dragon and alien, two threads in harmony and in unison. His motives would lie tucked away smugly within this aroused vessel of flesh, even as he passionately acted out what was only the current, single move in a chess game that might span many lifetimes. He had bided his time like a castle, and now he had the pleasure of smashing through this defiant tiger-pawn when the board offered no covering support. Commodore built his board all around him, and that board had a sleek blue body and a delightful mane.

In dark ecstasy, Teryx Commodore slam-hilted his partner, time and time again. Every crease of this dragon body. Every fiber. Every bone and scale and hair. Every neuron. All of it would serve in this perfect melding. This tiger would be their subordinate, one way or another, until he learned better. Then they continue with the advancement of their melded agenda: to spread Commodore's influence by bringing sex and glory to this vessel.

With all of this rushing through his thoughts in a matter of seconds, the tiger's lack of an answer still did not have time to linger long. Teryx Commodore leaned his snout down to the tiger's ear, nearly jamming the fangs into it as his humping pushed his own arousal toward the inevitable. "I'll tell you why," he said in a low, decisive ton. "It's because I can make him cum anytime I want, and make it thoroughly satisfying... because unlike you two, I have a tortured, horribly complicated relationship with Teryx that makes him... perpetually... ready... willing... to feed me!!"

The dragon snorted and roared as his pleasure rushed through him. His whipped-up load shot with tremendous force into Sir Harry's depths, and every muscle of Teryx's body seemed to zing with the satisfaction of it. It was a heavy, blurty climax that only lasted for four pulses, but Teryx kept it buried to the hilt inside of Harry for a full minute afterwards regardless. Pushed right up against Harry's prostate, the dragon's cocktip annoyed the tiger with its sporadic forward jabs and aftershock throbs, but did not otherwise move, nor did the erection weaken.

The minute passed, and then a minute more. Sometime during that duration, control seamlessly shifted from Teryx to Commodore. Teryx, in accord as he was with his master's way of thinking, didn't even notice at first. It merely seemed as if he were still letting himself ride the drug-like influence of that powerfully dominant mindset, and he did not wish to resist.

"Are you ever going to let your host go soft?" Sir Harry grumbled. "You proved your point."

Commodore Teryx looked at his watchless wrist in mock professionalism. He smiled and said, "Yes, and it only took me five minutes and didn't cost us a beach house."

"Hghh... not like you care. You're just as hungry as I am."

"True, but it is still notable that fucking you in the ass did not cost a beach house."

Commodore Teryx pulled out and promptly went soft. "Come on, let's get cleaned up and get ready to go."

Cleanup, for the most part, consisted of a few silent minutes of massaging their respective rears in the nearby seawater. It wasn't the most pleasant way to rinse off, but it would suffice for the time being.

* * *

"So, uh... think you're going to make an insurance claim?" Sir Harry casually asked as they returned to the front of the property to leave. He still was not walking quite right.

"No," admitted Commodore Teryx. "This loss was definitely self-inflicted."

"So... worth it?"

Commodore adopted a tone of polite, evasive dismissal: "Hmm. You know, I'm not quite sure."

Sir Harry refused to allow the words to have any nuances at all, replying, "Uncertainty? From the ever-sure Commodore?"

"Shut up. You know how I feel about how all of this has turned out. Teryx didn't get to do that to you without my permission."

"Heh..."

"No more chatter. Let's go home. It's clear to me that we need to spend a few nights together coming up with a much better-structured plan for how to use our hosts in the long term."

The sound of gurgling water from the broken plumbing caught the dragon's ear again.

"...Just as soon as I turn off the water," he added.