FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Darec could hear the sound of the approaching guard's hooves on the metal floor of the brig as he sat against the wall of his cell and waited for his sentencing. The dragon's heart was pounding, but he tried to be brave and remind himself of why they had revolted in the first place. He knew that he was the last of the rebel leaders to be sentenced, since he had had to listen to the shouting and pleas as the cells to his left were slowly emptied.

A harsh clanging at the door announced the arrival of the guards, and Darec looked up to see two large, muscular horses looking down at his naked body with smug smirks of superiority. Just a week ago Darec had been fighting the likes of them on the battlefield, but the Horse Lord Stredan had maneuvered his fleet to cut off Darec's band of rebels, making it impossible to escape off-world.

Darec did his best to retain some dignity as his hands were cuffed behind him and he was marched naked through the ship to Lord Stredan's throne room. Horses mocked and spit on him as he was led by his guards, and Darec tried to fight down his rising sense of despair.

Upon entering the large throne room of the horse army's capital ship, Darec was forced to his knees before the Horse Lord who sat on a large, black throne upon a raised dais before him.

As a herald began reading out Darec's crimes to the assembled court and Lord Stredan glared down at him, Darec found his attention drawn to some movement among the line of horses on his left. The dragon burned with shame and hate as he quickly averted his eyes upon seeing one of his former rebel soldiers stripped naked except for a collar, kneeling next to a horse noble who held the captive's chain. The dragon's cock was stuffed into a cage, and a large plug protruded from his ass. The large medallion hanging off of the dragon's collar read "Master's Pet," and the dragon was staring at the ground, defeated.

Darec saw red, and even before the herald had finished listing off his crimes, the blue dragon had launched to his feet and was sprinting straight for Lord Stredan, intending to kill this monster one way or another. He made it all of five steps before the shock of electricity arced through his body and caused him to trip and fall to the ground twitching.

While he was laying there, blinking away the pain, Lord Stredan stood up to his massive height of eight feet and began a speech.

"This is why we enslave the dragons," the horse said, gesturing to Darec's twitching form.

"It is for the good of the universe that such dangerous creatures are kept under lock and key and are given the chance to work toward the betterment of their betters. While some dragons are able to throw off their predisposition for violence and emotional immaturity, most are fit only for labor. At least in bondage, these dragons can bask in the second-hand light of the glory of the Horse Empire and redeem a part of their sins by doing their part to see the empire grow."

The horse lord stopped pacing, and turned directly to Darec. Behind him, servants came into view and carted off the large throne, leaving the dais bare.

"However, there are some dragons who are so beyond saving, that they throw off the merciful and generous gifts that we horses have benevolently bestowed upon them and seek to bring violent upheaval to our systems. These agents represent a danger to the collective, and therefore must be contained or eradicated."

Lord Stredan bent down and cupped Darec's chin, forcing the dragon to look up into his eyes.

"Since I am a benevolent lord, I have elected to judge this traitor and murderer with mercy. We do not kill unarmed creatures."

Dropping Darec's chin, the horse lord turned his back on the dragon and once again addressed the court.

"Since this dragon is too dangerous to be released, and we will not kill him, then the best remaining option is a lifetime of confinement and servitude for the betterment of his horse overlords. Besides... I am in need of a new throne."

While Darec was trying to process what this last sentence meant, Lord Stredan snapped his fingers and the assembled people began to leave to attend to their own business. Lord Stredan himself exited through a side door, and a handful of servants and guards picked Darec off the floor and carried him over to where the old throne once stood.

Darec tried to fight back as they carried him, but the guards beat him whenever he moved. By the time he had given up fighting them, he could barely move himself anyway and another servant had to be called in to wipe away the blood that had been left on the floor.

Darec blearily saw two small holes in the floor of the dais where the throne had once stood. The guards forced him into a sitting position atop these holes with his back to the main section of the throne room. One of the guards whinnied something to one of the servants who hefted a strange-looking pistol and shot a dart into Darec. Almost instantly, Darec's body stopped communicating with his brain, and he froze up, only able to move his wide eyes around. There was a sound of metal sliding on metal behind him, and Darec felt the guards force his tail into a hole in the floor.

Right after that, Darec felt something brush against his scaly ass and tried to squirm and call out as a thin, strong tube shoved its way into his anus. Then, he felt another tube encase his cock. Though he could not move or look at what was happening, Darec realized that the tubes must have come from the holes he was sitting on.

He then felt two somethings slide up his tail, arc over his back, slide along the top of his snout, and he saw the ends of two very small tubes right before they slid into his nostrils. Darec would have cried out from the pain, but all he could manage in his state was a slight watering of the eyes and a small whimper as the tubes slid their way into his lungs.

Darec wanted to cry out and beg for mercy, or death, or information, or anything, but he could do nothing as the guards effortlessly unfolded his legs until he was sitting with a straight back with his legs straight out in front of him. He realized that wherever his limbs were positioned by the guards, that's where they stayed. Fear gripped him as the guards and servants continued to crack jokes at his expense. His arms were positioned out in front of him, as if he was reaching for something that wasn't there. They also forced his mouth open, and laughed when he wasn't able to stop them from running their dirty fingers along his tongue. The position he was in would have been uncomfortable if not for the fact that he couldn't feel his body.

Then one of the guards clapped his hands, rubbed them together, and nodded to a servant holding a remote while he made a comment about finding some lunch to eat. The rest of the horses around him expressed agreement, and a few swatted Darec's head as they left the room too.

Darec was left alone, sitting in a ridiculous position, wondering what that button had done, when he felt something beginning to slide out of the hole his tail had been stuffed into. He felt it spreading across the floor but couldn't see it until it reached the tips of his toes. What he saw then filled him with more fear than anything else so far. He recognized the gooey, black material slowly bubbling up around him as smart latex.

This was the moment when Darec's heart went cold as he finally fully understood his situation. He struggled against the drugs in his system harder than he had ever struggled against anything in his life. He didn't want to be a throne! His quiet moans and struggles were unable to stop the black goop as it rose around him in its pre-programed shape. His feet and legs were completely covered, as well as his ass as the smart latex climbed up his body. It began to create a boxy structure on the floor of the dais with Darec's body as a base.

Panic swept through Darec as his arms were slowly engulfed in the goop and he saw that the rectangular structure he was a part of was becoming more and more distinct. Its shape became ever more obvious when the latex stopped rising in front of him halfway up his neck, forming a seat that had clearly been pre-molded to a large horse's butt. The latex did continue to rise somewhere over his feet to form a backrest, but as Darec's head began to be engulfed, he saw with horror that his soon-to-be covered head would protrude into the seat of the throne right where Stredan's crotch would be.

As the goop spread up to Darec's chin, Lord Stredan stepped out from behind the almost-completed throne. In his panic and fruitless struggles, Darec had not heard him approach.

The dragon tried to plead with the horse with his eyes while the latex rose up the side of his face, joining the box that would soon contain his head with the seat that rested on top of his arms.

"Don't worry, Darec," Stredan said with a malicious grin, "you'll make a fine throne. And you'll never be able to bother me again."

Darec was overtaken by hopelessness as the goop rose up over his eyes, ears, nose, and began engulfing his horns as well.

Not that Darec could see it, but a large, black throne now stood where a dragon had once sat. The only thing strange about the throne was the rectangular box that protruded from the middle of the seat. Only the occupant of the throne and those standing directly behind it could see that the box actually contained a dragon, as could be inferred by the circular opening in the rapidly hardening latex that lead into a drooling dragon mouth.

Otherwise, from the front, the throne looked plain but strong. Nothing incredibly out of the ordinary could be detected, and the box in the front became easier to explain when Darec's protruding horns were covered in an angled block of latex and became a small podium, an excellent place to rest documents and books for easy perusal.

Not a hint of the dragon's anatomy could be detected from the outside, since the hard edges of the throne disguised the captive within. Even Darec's head had been encased in a rectangle with his snout almost protruding from the middle towards the seat, but with about a half-centimeter of flat latex past the edge of his nose separating his scales from the air.

Lord Stredan walked around the throne, looking it up and down with approval, and pressed a button on the small remote that one of his servants had handed him. The smart latex immediately hardened and became locked in its permanent position.

Chuckling to himself, Lord Stredan walked around to the front of the throne and began lowering himself into his new seat of power.

In the darkness, Darec tried to scream, but even as the drugs finally wore off his system and he regained control of his body, he found to his horror that he could not move a muscle. He was completely encased in the hardened latex, and he was unable to move so much as a finger. On top of this, he was completely blind, deaf, and could not feel nor smell anything. The latex that encased him felt almost like nothing, and even in the few seconds after he regained control of his body, he realized that his utter stillness and the texture of the latex acted basically as a sensory depravation chamber. He could only vaguely smell through his open mouth, but with his nose blocked up by the tubes, it gave him barely any information. He also tried and failed to close his mouth. Despite nothing having been inserted into it, the bond that the hardening latex had on his scales was strong enough that Darec could not close his mouth no matter how he tried.

The only thing that Darec retained any real control over was his tongue. Even his breathing was almost being done for him as the tubes in his nose began pumping air in and out of his lungs. He was deprived of all sensory input, immobile, and alone.

Darec couldn't even feel it as Lord Stredan settled himself onto his new throne and unzipped his pants, letting his large horsecock peek out.

What Darec did perceive, however, was the faint smell of horse musk, and the feeling of a rapidly hardening horsecock sliding its way into his mouth as it grew.

As Stredan leaned back in his new throne with a contented sigh and enjoyed the panicked thrashing of dragon tongue on his cock, he reflected that the one downside of the throne was that it would be difficult to get in and out of if he was hard. If he was flaccid, however, the dragon's mouth was less than an inch away from his crotch, making it unnecessary for the horse lord to move at all in order to force his hardening cock down the dragon's throat. The perfect deepthroating could be achieved merely by letting his own excitement do the work.

Inside the throne, Darec sobbed silently as the massive cock slid down his throat and he was unable to do anything to stop its horribly musky length from reaching full mast inside him. With a whimper, he realized that the tubes in his nose were so that he could continue to breath even while he had the horse lord's cock in his mouth for hours on end.

Worse still was the fact that in Darec's permanently sensory-deprived state, all of his sensory attention was focused on his mouth, making him feel each and every leathery millimeter of his captor's cock as it slid and twitched in his mouth and throat. Each thick vein, each small nub on the rapidly enlarging head was felt in full detail by the dragon inside the throne.

Darec went into full panic as he realized that this is what his life was now. His only role in life was a cock-sleeve for his master. His only purpose was to sit there and hold his enslaver's dirty cock in his mouth forever and ever until he died or ceased to be able to comprehend his situation. He tried desperately to bite down on the cock in his mouth, but every means of retaliation and agency had been stolen from him, even this. Darec was a throne now. A cock-pleasing throne for his worst enemy to enjoy for the rest of his life.

In Stredan's triumph, he was having similar throughts to Darec's, but they excited him rather than terrifying him. He began sliding just a little back and forth in his seat, and this was just enough to spark some very pleasurable sensations from the incredibly life-like cock-sleeve that had been built into his throne.

It didn't take long until Stredan blew his load, and Darec was subjected to a torrent of horse spunk that he was forced to desperately gulp down. Darec's stomach filled with the hot horse semen as he was used as a cock-sleeve cum-dump by his master. The warmth of the cum in his belly remained long after Stredan slid his flaccid cock out of Darec's mouth and left to attend to more pressing matters, leaving Darec alone in the throne room to mull over the aftertaste of the only thing he would ever taste again for the rest of his life.

Time passed, but Darec did not register it. Inside his encasement, he could only measure time by the visitations of his master. Sometimes he would have a cock in him for what felt like hours, sometimes for minutes. It always ended with cum in his belly, and a further degrading of his mental state.

The only nourishment that Darec ever got was his owner's cum, though extra nutrients were sometimes stealthily injected into the numbed tip of Darec's tail so that he could stay alive to serve Lord Stredan. His waste was carried away by the tubes in his ass and over his cock, and air was pumped into his lungs through his nose.

Days turned to weeks, which turned to months, which turned to years. Everything passed without meaning or understanding to cock-sleeve cum-dump Darec, who only knew that his place in life was to be the receptacle for cock and to swallow the cum that it provided. Over time his senses dulled further, and his mouth became a white-hot center around which all of his attention was focused. A cock sliding into his mouth was at once blissfully and tortuously distinct with all of the sensations it brought.

The eternal solitude, encasement, and sexual slavery turned Darec's brain to mush until he really was just a throne, a chair to sit on, and a place to rest one's cock and get their rocks off.

Since dragons live much longer lives than horses, Darec didn't realize it, but he would serve three generations of Stredan cocks during his lifetime. But then, there was a lot of things that Darec didn't realize anymore. He was just an object now, a machine inside the throne that had but a few purposes and fulfilled them without thought or reaction or, eventually, feeling. But then, thrones aren't supposed to feel anything anyway. Dragons are, but Darec was no longer a dragon.