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THOOOOOOM!!

A flash across the interior walls. The sound of not-too-distant thunder.

Teryx the storm dragon awoke with a start.

Storm. The storm.

A gloating laugh erupted from his throat within moments of his return to consciousness -- then, a spiteful, hissing snarl.

Outside, through the windows, he could see that the sky was still gloriously dark. The harbingers of his coming -- the greatest storm clouds this city had seen in years -- were in full swing. Churning and swirling, the flashes and noises of lightning arced among them, and down onto the cityscape below. The office clock indicated that the time was shortly before dawn, but the storm was poised to keep the day sunless and violent for hours... or, perhaps, as long as he liked.

He had done it. His force of will had superseded the inferior reality to which he had previously been consigned.

His body... his crackling power... He could see the changed scale coloration by glancing down and could feel his influence over the subtler forces of the universe... but he craved more confirmation.

A quick jaunt into his penthouse to look in the mirror confirmed all: his upgrade from mere masculine beauty to the embodiment of physical perfection had indeed taken place. He no longer looked the part of that polite -- and disgustingly meek at heart -- business owner. He looked, rather, like someone who owned whatever space he might choose to enter.

Where his musculature had been lean, it was now chiseled; in the choice spots where his shape had shown an elegant effeminacy, he was now harsh and utterly masculine. His tidy, narrow mane had grown wild and broad -- enough, he perceived, that it should put even lions to shame.

The colors, too, had changed. The subdued sky blue that colored most of Rain's ventral scales had been invaded by the darker shade common to his extremities and dorsal side. The white accents normally present beneath Rain's neck and arms had spread to his snout, waist, forearms, and shins. The white spots along the limbs and waist resembled tattoos, suggestive jagged lightning and gusty winds.

He flexed with both elbows outward and his fists inward near his waist, squatting a little and swaying his tail to catch sight of the ampler golden fluff that now clothed it. Unkempt, almost bestial... rippling and mighty, ready to strike down anyone who dared to oppose him.

And between his legs... well, if this walking god of thunder could be called one who carried a "hammer" or "scepter," then certainly that was its location. The sheer self-directed lust he was feeling right now was enough to cause his slit to plump up, looking more blatantly sheath-like as the member within stirred and prepared to emerge. As he continued flexing, he let his longer-fanged jaws hang open, admiring the menacing look of his own maw while simultaneously feeling out some subtler aspects of bodily control. If he flexed certain muscle groups in his groin, it felt especially nice.

Silently, his sheath opened around his shaft, the peachy pinkness of it looking nonetheless imposing as its ridged underside bulged with the influx of blood. Once visible, it surged forward in a single smooth motion, the skin around it retracting and drawing his two fleshy dragon orbs subtly upwards. He could feel their tightness in his scrotum, and the glorious, continuing rush of bloodflow into his cockbase as that part of him knotted outward. The member itself had nearly double the girth of Rain's, and the knotted portion was larger around than many men's forearms. If it became lodged in most of his prospective bottoms, there would be no escape for the foreseeable future. Not that any of them should ever wish to be away from his presence once he had filled them.

Storm deemed all of this to be a cause for celebration: ceasing his mirrored admiration for the moment, he darted back down to the bar -- cock bobbing huge in front of him -- and left doors open wide as he went. He grabbed a shotglass and four assorted bottles of hard liquor, hugging them against his chest with one arm while he grabbed a box of cigars in his other hand.

He then returned to the rooftop, striding out without worry into the torrential thunderstorm that was raging through the night, its noise and wind a spectacle that drowned out the city's usual sounds. He placed the items upon his small picnic table near one of the roof's corners -- his chosen site for a bit of personal "foreplay." The heavy droplets fell upon his bare scales and bulging cock the whole way along, soaking him with the sky's distress. He revelled in every thump, as if each droplet crashing against him was a worshiper of his perfect body, willingly breaking apart in collision with something greater.

His table was white, circular, and sported a blue umbrella bearing a cartoonish rendering of Rain's smiling likeness. Upon setting down the items, Storm immediately grabbed the umbrella, shut it, and twisted it free of the stand before smash-bending it into uselessness over his left knee. He then cast it aside, the fabric and metal flomping onto the rooftop's stony surface. His erection gave a satisfying throb as the water continued to soak him. His mane sagged, long curly locks drizzling rivers down his chest. He flicked his head and sent a wave of it sloshing off.

The wind was cool -- strong, and menacing. A lesser man would have felt cold, but Storm was not a lesser man.

He sat casually at the table and propped his legs on the opposite seat: dick protruding lazily skyward, nuts snug between his thighs. He then popped all four bottles, kicked back, and drew a cigar as he prepared to enjoy himself.

Rain might not have been one to indulge in his own product, but Storm would hold no such qualms. Under new management, he thought smugly to himself as he poured and immediately downed a harsh shot of straight vodka, revelling in the chemical burning sensation it produced in his throat.

He lit up the first cigar and gazed out over the horizon toward the crackling stormclouds that were still active in the distance. A stiff gust blew past him, making Storm laugh in admiration of his own power as the combination of wind and rain managed to snuff out the lit cigar not once, but twice, before he got it hot enough for the combustion to continue regardless.

It was not normally advisable to inhale cigar smoke, nor to draw it directly, but Storm engaged in both of these things with flippant ease, his body too resilient against temperature differences to be harmed by inhaling the hot vapors. As for the toxins, well... he could sort that out in the long run. He already felt sure that he was more "toxic" than any cigar or alcohol could hope to be. What was "toxic," after all, but a description used by inferior beings to describe something they felt was hurting them?

Storm would hurt them. He would poison them, in their minds and in their souls. He would make them beholden to him. He would take, use, and bring to ruin anything he felt like... because it was all his.

These thoughts of conquest deepened his arousal as he continued to alternate between downing shots and gulping the cigar's heat. Of the four bottles he brought out, a particularly harsh whiskey ended up being his favorite, its contents disappearing in heavy glugs while the rainwater rolled down the glass exterior and dripped onto his chest.

He let a few sloppily spilled droplets of the whisky remain on his right hand's fingers as he lowered them to stroke his shaft. Not because it felt good -- it wasn't especially good lubrication, nor was the rainwater -- but because he could. He reveled in his nigh-invulnerability, not caring if it might leave him feeling a little raw afterward. Another long taste of the cigar -- and then he spat upon his masturbating hand, massaging saliva infused with the tobacco along his needy prick. His efforts made a louder squelching noise as he squeezed the rainwater away from his member.

His pleasure grew, and the stormclouds grew darker still.

Violence. Darkness. Instability. Addiction.

He thought to himself: let this whole city... every one, become addicted to him.

Then he thought better of that.

...Just the men. The women weren't worth his trouble. The "allegedly straight" men could sort that part out. He, of course, believed there were no straight men -- only men who had never met the Storm.

Lightning bolts flashed and drew closer. The lights in a nearby neighborhood went out as a transformer was struck, the boom of its destruction just loud enough to be heard by him over the din of the storm.

Within his body, infused the core of his very being, he could feel the orb's power still humming. He was directing it, corrupting the city's weather with his will. His whims and needs would draw the lightning closer, stronger, brighter...

His pre was mixing with the chemicals and the rainwater. His ridged shaft was bulging, his knot reaching full and urgent size as he held his cigar in his teeth and let his left hand down to squeeze firmly between the knot and his groin.

A blinding flash. KRAKOOOOOOM!!

A metal pole on an adjacent building had been struck; his eyes immediately recovered, seeing the jagged arc of the bolt as a harmlessly fleeting afterimage.

The storm was more than his friend; it was his soul.

Closer. Powerful. Visions of grandeur, his power corrupting this entire city...

He took a final reckless inhale from the cigar, before flinging it aside with a lustful opening of his jaws and the start of a powerful roar. His long, bestial fangs gleamed in the premonitory crackle of yet another current in the nearby clouds.

His peak arrived. He thrust between his hands. The rain worshiped him.

KRABOOOOOOOM!!!!

Golden, perfect lightning arced from the clouds into his cock. His ejaculation and the strike were one and the same: electricity in; semen out. He suffered no harm, and to the contrary felt the energy of the strike lingering within him, crackling through his body and enhancing the ejaculation with harsher spasms than that weakling Rain had ever managed. His spurts shot far enough to arc over the railing, sailing down among the raindrops toward the street below. In his grasp at the base of his shaft, he could feel the exquisite throbs in his knot, its firmness divine and unshakable.

He was the wrath of the sky. The bringer of floods and the crusher of progress.

And his seed was falling freely upon this land. This city.

He did not laugh. He did not speak a confident word in gloating.

He only roared, his voice that of a beast-man that would rule as he saw fit.

He stood up, tall and proud, looking down at his rainsoaked form as his spasms tapered down. He put both hands around the railing, gripping it firmly and flexing for the sake of more self-admiration as he jutted his hips forward, shaft sticking out between the rails.

It was unlikely that anyone saw his majestic scepter in the chaos around him... but he hoped they would.

For it would be such a fitting prelude to what was soon to come. He would have his way. In all.

* * *

"The freak electrical storm of the century has struck the city today," the newscaster declared from the video feed on Teryx's phone as he lounged nude in bed. "Winds are stiff but mostly walkable, but the real marvel here is the amount of lightning we've had going on. Transformers in various residential neighborhoods have overloaded due to direct strikes, though the city's commercial heart has been largely unaffected. Bored citizens are already making their way out in spite of it all, heading to their nearest coffee shops, restaurants, or bars -- to charge their phones and vent their frustrations."

Some rhinoceros lady Teryx didn't care about showed up on the screen next, being asked for a sound bite by a reporter who was live in some lame ground-level bistro. The storm dragon tap-swiped her ugly mug away and tossed the device aside, chuckling to himself as he hopped out of bed and made his way over to admire himself in the mirror one more time.

The clothes he had put on after drying himself off were exactly what he wanted: a form-fitting bodysuit, so dark as to be almost black, with the faintest blue tinge to work well in ensemble with the lighter and darker shades of his body scales. His mane was wilder than ever, shaggy and disheveled and still a little damp. It smelled like cigar smoke, the scent of his second (and then third) victory cigar having woven strongly into it. The whole room had a lingering odor from their use, despite his preferentially leaving open a window to better hear the thunderstorm's chorus.

"To blowdry, or not to blowdry..." Storm mused as he made flexes and poses for himself, watching the tantalizing movement of his muscular form under the bodysuit. "No, just a bit of gel, and then I'll shove his face deep into it and make him sniff."

The "him" to which Storm referred was Harry Pasir, a hunky orange tiger who owned the Tiger's Den BSDM club on the other side of the city. To Rain, Harry had been a friendly rival with a number of shared interests -- most notably a shared love for switchy play with lots of leather straps, uppity speech, and carefully timed wrestling and smacking -- but their relationship had never really had much emotional weight. They could count on each other to be good businessmen, and would even go together from time to time on bulk orders for expensive alcohols and other inventory, but that was the extent of their entanglement.

Storm wanted the relationship to have more emotional entanglement -- of the variety in which Harry would crave to serve and Storm would aloofly make use of him without really needing him. Why do this? Because competition. Because pecking order. Because no male in this city was going to be a sexual or practical peer to the great Storm.

The thought gave him a thick erection, immediately and lusciously framed by the tight surface of his pants. Such a troublesome but pleasant beast his cock was! No refractory period to speak of, and so productive too -- he could churn up fresh, full ejaculations as fast as the clouds outside were gathering new lightning bolts to hurl, penetrating the city with his breed of insidious discontent.

Tugging the edge of his pants, Teryx let his gorgeous erection flop free and gave it a gentle stroke. Focusing his powers again, he sent a rhythmic series of electrical zaps through it, causing his own tail to rise and his hips to buck. A moan escaped him -- the closest to truly submissive he ever imagined he would sound -- as he compelled his body toward orgasm. It wouldn't take long with the blue-white energy arcing repeatedly from his fingertips, coursing through the entire bulging length, forcing his inner muscles to milk at his prostate...

A roar of lust and delight escaped him fifteen seconds later. His throbbing, knotted length whipped upward as the ejaculation struck -- a small, speckly initial spurt followed by a jettisoning of a thick, ropey cord of seed that lashed forward and splashed across the face and mane area of his reflection. A gorgeous pearl necklace, just for himself... a gift from him to him. He laughed, drunk on power rather than substances as he licked it off, pressing his tongue harder against the reflection of it in the glass. The only thing that could make this more perfect would be having another of himself to fuck... but one thing at a time. The sky was quite literally the limit. With the orb in him, he could corrupt reality however he chose, as long as he intended upon it with the proper force of will. He would have his fun, in every way that he chose.

First things first. First things tiger. He cleaned his shaft and tucked it back into its squeezing, teasing garment.

"Here I come, Harry~" he said as he picked up his phone again to send out a few covering text messages to Ricky the bear. He grabbed a black leather jacket with a fur-lined top -- Rain had usually regarded it as "too edgy looking" -- and donned it for the additional leather-striptease factor before stepping out the door.

* * *

Storm's self-absorption did not end when he left his apartment. His intent to go see Harry notwithstanding, the dragon ended up meandering -- striking here and there as he took in the effects his magic was having upon the silly metropolis in which his inferior half had chosen to reside.

He took a slow survey of the cafes and eateries of his neighborhood, walking by slowly and going into a few. Some people were wondering if this was a prelude to a typhoon or hurricane. Some spoke with tones of concern; others, with a kind of nervous excitement that tried to stave off worry by looking on the bright side (such as it was) of how awe-inspiring such a storm might be. No one said that directly, of course. Expressing hope that the city would just get whacked and that the humdrum of day to day life would be disrupted wasn't going to sound popular, least of all at a time like this. Nevertheless, Storm could feel their anxious itch and found it... compatible with himself.

He would have to remember those nervous souls for later... but, certainly, later.

After he finished his coffee.

After he walked through a nearby mall, chuckling to himself when out of earshot of others as he noted how few people were actually shopping and how many were piling into the food court and complaining of lost power at home.

After he spent the better part of an hour in a public restroom, texting a prolonged series of risque messages to Ricky and making vague but exciting promises of how deeply he was going to plow that "best bear" ass tonight, once he eventually got back. It would be late, after service was over. Important personal matters to attend to -- they could talk later if Ricky really wanted -- but the bulk of the conversation would be had with their strong bodies. Ricky would like that, wouldn't he? Having his bowtie tugged softly before being shoved against the wall, hoisted upward, and fucked in place -- upright cowboy. Ricky replied politely, suggesting Teryx must be in quite a topping mood today. The dragon replied that, "You could say that," and left the conversation at that. There was a gloryhole in Teryx's stall the whole time, but no one around to receive his glory. Sad, but at least he was able to take a thirty pic and four video catalogue of his own aroused nethers during that time, while humming quietly to himself about the dependably ongoing fury of the storm outside. He didn't bother cumming, instead tucking his shaft back into his pants and letting the bulge linger as he went on his way. He ordered a massive hotdog at the food court and carried it with him, chowing down wordlessly as he passed close to other males on the street. He caught a few allegedly straight gazes and several more honestly homo ones. He loved making them sweat.

Between his various wanderings, distractions, and the inevitable bus-ride slog across town -- traffic was unusually terrible thanks to the weather and the silently growing undercurrent of discontent in the populace -- it was afternoon by the time Teryx reached Harry's neighborhood. The cute tiger was probably already at work, starting the meticulous process of making sure his club was ready for the evening's adventures.

On the street outside Harry's building, Teryx killed just a little more time by teasingly conversing with -- and leading on -- a trio of a gecko, orca, and boar whom he had no intention of playing with today, because they weren't attractive specimens. The gecko was a twiggy nerd; the orca was fat without redeeming muscle; the boar was just ugly and might've had some sort of genetic, boar-specific face lumping condition. But their thinking he was coming onto them was... amusing. Perhaps he could find some magical way to "correct" them, if they developed enough of an obsession and sought him out. They weren't worth the time otherwise.

There was the dulcet sound of another power box being struck a block away as Teryx entered Harry's building. The streetlights in the area flickered before recovering, but Harry's building itself was still powered for now.

For now.

Teryx chuckled to himself. There were all kinds of power for him to seize today.

* * *

The barroom of the Tiger's Den had a sunnier and more outdoorsy color scheme than most of the night clubs Teryx had visited. The wall on one's left as one entered was artfully brush-stroked with oranges, reds and yellows like those seen in a sunset, creating a perpetual feeling that the night's possibilities were only just beginning. Sandy tan carpet formed a pleasant ensemble with the reddish-brown of the wooden parts of the bar and the nearby tables and seating. Off to one's right past the various tables, a side corridor betrayed the first glimpses of the club's private rooms; these few near the front of house were adorned with exotic potted plants and had two-way viewing windows to allow easy visual recognition of faces from the barroom... though, the windows were elevated enough to make handsy activities lower down invisible to those in the room outside, save by reading the pleasured expressions on faces. It was even common for the party in such a room to engage in some casual oral foreplay -- which was technically against the rules, but only enough to make Harry or his staff insist that those involved get a real room in the back. The playful risk of being caught was a calculated part of the appeal.

Further back, past a game-table lounge area and through a corridor presided over on either side by tiger-striped wall curtains, was the rear half of the establishment: a series of insulated cells and larger play-rooms full of state-of-the-art equipment for all sorts of domination-based erotic play. Whether one merely needed a sturdy chair on which to use one's light bondage gear or full-on specialist bondage furniture, the chances were good that Harry had it stowed away somewhere in this sky-scraping dungeon of his.

Except for a really good electrostim setup, Storm mentally pouted as he dredged up that fact from Rain's memories. (Harry had electrostim devices which he had been known to use personally or loan to trusted patrons, but none were outrageous enough to match Storm's standards on the matter.)

The establishment's bouncer, and Harry's right-hand man in general, was a meaty black bear by the name of Evan. Rain had often made playful remarks to Harry that "My bear's better!" but had always shown courtesy to Evan where it was due.

Storm felt no such need for courtesy today. He walked straight over to the counter with an entitled, predatory gleam in his expression, not even deigning to reply when Evan greeted him with a small wave and a slow approach.

"Tell Harry I'm here," Storm said curtly before lightly folding his arms across his chest as if he owned the place.

"Strange," said the black bear's growly, bass voice. "Ricky texted me asking if you were heading here, but I hadn't heard of it."

"Spontaneous," said Teryx, teeth showing. He flicked his head and sent water droplets flying across the club's bar, even though he could have done the same thing at the entrance and soaked less furniture.

Evan was taken aback by the display and grabbed a towel he had been using for cleaning, quickly clearing the bar counter of droplets. "I'll get Mr. Pasir in a moment. Do tell me, how is Ricky doing in general?"

"Useful," came Teryx's curt reply. "You should live up to his example today."

"You're in quite a mood," was the only half-tactful reply the bear could still muster.

"Heh. You could say that."

There was a stiff wave from the bear's left hand as he turned and went to the back to fetch Harry. It gave Teryx half a minute to himself, alone with nothing but the environs of the club, the thunderstorm sounds from outside, and the slithering pulse of his own arousal. He gave the renewing bulge in his pants a pat.

To take his mind off the boredom of waiting, he tried looking around more at the decor -- but all he could think as he did so was, This place sucks. Needs more dark clouds and lightning, or at least some real electrostim. Really now, what kind of BDSM club doesn't provide proper --

"Hey, rainy boy!" said Harry with a laugh and wave as he entered from the back.

"Not so rainy , and definitely not your 'boy,'" Storm fired back casually.

"Heh, guess I haven't earned it yet for today. Not sure what you're on about with the 'not rainy' thing though. The damn sky's trying to birth an ocean over our heads."

"That's not Rain, but a proper Storm."

The name-like emphasis on the two words was audible, but Harry didn't probe. Instead the tiger seemed to be struggling to read Teryx's behavior: unsure whether this was meant as roleplay-foreplay, or if perhaps the dragon might be trolling him for the sake of amusement.

As Teryx drew nearer, he removed his jacket and handed it off to the bouncer. This process revealed more of the mane and uncovered his forearms, and Harry did a double-take upon noticing the changed details of Teryx's coloration and physique.

"Woah. Going all-in on scale dye, huh? How's it workin' out for ya?"

Teryx's brow quirked at the mention of "scale dye" before his expression took on a facade of perfect confidence. "Harry my dear, I'll have you know this color is all-natural."

"Sure, I can believe that. All natural dye."

"As for how it's working, I would say that's self-evident."

Harry's business phone rang. Evan had moved briskly to put the jacket onto a coat rack, approached quickly and made eye contact with the tiger, who handed the device off. Evan left into the corridor behind the bar, speaking quietly as he took the call, which sounded routine and supply-related.

"Reminds me of tiger stripes," Harry continued. "On your forearms. If I didn't know better, I'd say you did that to flirt with me."

Teryx chuckled and grinned wide. "Heavens no. Those are clouds in the shape of lightning." His hands moved casually to adjust his tight-fitting shirt, calling attention to its creases. He pretended to itch his side and used it as a chance to lift the shirt high enough to expose his midriff and navel, putting his washboard abs on display. "As for your other claim, you know I wouldn't dream of flirting with you. Now have a closer look at my muscles and tell me how much you like them."

The shirt lingered in its elevated position, supported by the curve of a fingertip. The dragon's tail swished deliberately too wide, whipping back and forth like that of a cat about to pounce in play, while a bulge made itself visible in his pants. The tiger's tail slunk lower, tip twitching quickly from side to side while the rest of him took on a faux-grumpy expression and posture.

"Gonna need a better bluff than that," said Harry as he flattened his large palms atop of the bar counter and leaned back above it in a way that made his groin more obvious too. "You gotta remember man, it's me. I've seen the lengths you go to when you want it bad from someone."

"Heheh, yes, you've certainly seen a lot," Teryx commented as he reciprocated Harry's posing. In the dragon's case, this consisted of letting go of the shirt's edge and stretching both arms over his head, to pressing his fingers against the low ceiling of the corridor behind the bar. A wave of gradual, sumptuous motion flowed through his muscular body, starting with an upward press along the balls of his feet before he sloooowly worked out his legs and jutted his bulge in Harry's direction. The form-fitting clothing displayed every detail, its surface shifting over the flexing and relaxing of the calves, thighs, abs, and pecs. Even the ankle tendons and other bits were visible through it.

Harry's gaze drifted lower to the package of meat and nuts that was so tightly bundled at the front. Playing it cool, he looked back up to meet Teryx's gaze again. "How many times do I have to tell you to be careful with tight spaces? Someone or something could get damaged."

"Probably not me," responded Teryx as he released his stretch and stepped forward, until he was close enough to Harry to smell his breath. "Though it's true" -- he gestured down the length of his outfit -- "this situation is not ideal. Perhaps you'd help me slip out of these tight new clothes and into something... looser and better-worn, yet still strong and reliable."

Teryx's left hand had ended up on Harry's right wrist, thumb massaging at the muscularity of the forearm. The dragon's right hand reached over to tease along Harry's abs with three fingers.

Harry took a few seconds before responding, keeping a poker face despite the teasing. Despite this, Teryx could practically feel the uptick in his arousal, horny tiger that he was. The bulge in his trousers visibly swelled in a matter of seconds.

The striped tail gave a long, slow sway, brushing low along the counter.

Harry lifted his right hand and brushed away Teryx's grip. His left hand followed suit a moment later, until he was standing upright, almost nose to nose with the dragon: "I open in two and a half hours," he said calmly and decisively.

"Oh, you could 'open' much sooner."

Harry waved his right hand dismissively. "You want anything fun, you're waiting till close. End of discussion."

Teryx didn't seem too convinced. "Oh, but that's where our problem is, my dear tiger. See, I definitely want something fun, but I don't really want to wait. You know how a mood can be. Fickle as a cloud -- here one moment and gone the next."

Harry grinned. "Then we'll have to train that uppity dragon, as we sometimes do~"

The tiger nodded to Evan, who had been padding in quietly from the corridor behind Teryx. A moment later, the storm dragon found his arms being pressed against his sides as he was grappled by a large man.

In that split-second of rejection and accosting, a fresh rage brewed in Storm's mind. How dare these insects refuse him? Surely, this must be suitably punished. He must lure them in and then put them in their place -- much as nature's tinier bugs were easily baited by a light and then reduced to a smoldering heap by the high-voltage discharge of a bug zapper. Anyone whose will chose something other than him was not fit to go on having a will in his playground...

Despite the intensity of his emotions, Teryx's expression did not reveal his megalomaniacal flash of judgment. He kept up appearances, even seeming to struggle in the bouncer's grasp. Storm was certainly not bad at acting, even if he was a bad actor in the moralistic sense of the phrase.

Physically, there was no overpowering the man from this disadvantaged position, short of using his magic, so that aspect of his struggle was not hard to sell as genuine. The harder part was in feigning that he wanted to be put in his place by stronger men -- as the weakling Rain might desire from time to time.

"Mmm, having your bouncer try me, this really is getting me going," said Teryx as he lunged himself in closer toward Harry. He was briefly pulled back by a restraining tug from Evan, before flexing and darting his head in toward the bear again.

"Classic Ter--" Harry started. The name cut off abruptly during a split second when their gazes met at a distance of less than a foot.

During that instant of perfect visual contact, there was a subtle gleam of magic. For Harry, it was like seeing a flash of lightning in the distance -- small and mystifying upon the backdrop of the dragon's retinas, visible through the pupils of both eyes.

The image lingered like a stain on Harry's vision... and, without any outward signs other than a subtle slackening of his formerly tense posture, many things about how he was thinking and feeling began to change... as if it all made sense and had been his intention all along.

"Ahh, heck, let him go." muttered Harry, a bit glumly, to Evan. "There won't be any need to keep him tied-and-denied in the back room this time around. Fun though that would be."

Evan obeyed, releasing his grip, but looked perplexed as he watched Storm dart a few feet away from him and turn around grinning in triumph.

"A change of heart, I see," said Teryx, the smugness dripping from his voice and continuing to put Evan on edge.

"Don't look all weirded out," Harry admonished his bouncer. "I got my reasons, you know that."

The bear held his poise and said, "I would be curious to know what those reasons are."

Harry nodded and started seamlessly rationalizing. "Friendships and circumstances. He's wanting it bad, and it's plenty stormy out and apt to get worse. Much as I like making money, I'd hate to have people getting out in this mess to come hang out here. More so, I don't want the responsibility if they end up stuck here."

"Yes!" agreed Teryx, "and from the forecasts there's a good chance it will." He brushed a hand through his mane as he 'lamented' the situation: "Such potent weather, to be putting such a great city on edge like this."

Harry smiled. "Drunk, horny people and storms don't mix, as far as I'm concerned. So..."

The storm dragon grinned brightly. "So there's nothing to stop us having our fun!"

There was a rising rumble of lust in Harry's throat as he resituated his butt along the bar counter's edge and started removing his top, tail swaying high as he did so. "Honestly, it's been too long. Don't get a wildcard fuck like you too often around here, and I wanna see how that muscle training is paying off in the sack." He nodded appreciatively to Teryx's tight-fitting garments and the chiseled meat beneath them.

"I think it's cute that you say 'in the sack,'" said Teryx as he scooted in close and ground his bulge against Harry's, two eager hands helping to unleash the beast from the confining belt, button, and fly. "You really think I'm letting you leave this room, tiger? A great predator like yourself ought to know the importance of striking prey at the right moment."

"Heh, what, you wanna get fucked over the bar counter?"

There was a white-fanged grin as Teryx's helping hands caressed slowly and admiringly up the tiger's sides. "Not quite~"

In a flash of motion, Teryx spun Harry around and got an arm under one of those beefy shoulders, leather-clad bulge pressing in the lower half of the tiger's spine. That tail curled playfully around Teryx's right knee, the fluff of it patting against the fabric of the clothing.

"Pounding me over my own bar counter... you kinky little whelp. You're so hungry you can't wait five minutes for my body, can you?"

"Can, but won't." Teryx whispered as he leaned in close, giving the tiger's right ear a flick-inducing slurp after he did so.

"Mmm, then you'll have to do it by force. Evan, you watch, this is how experienced men turn a fuck into a real workout."

The bear was completely taken aback for several reasons, not the least of which being that he was rather experienced. Perhaps less so than Harry, but still! Nonetheless, he cautiously followed Harry's lead, not really knowing what else to do in this situation, as it looked like both men were getting so ready to play that any attempt to intervene would end with them turning on him together.

Growling deeply and flexing hard, Harry made an exuberant effort with his whole body to do something like an upright push-up, leveraging his hands and sculpted arms against the counter as he pressed his way back upright despite the dragon's ongoing attempts to wrangle him. Harry's cock was as hard as the countertops, forming a full and proud tent in his speedo as he started to turn around in spite of Teryx's interference.

Teryx, carefully, let the motion happen while maintaining a loose and agile hold around the tiger's midriff and upper body. Their bulges -- tight leather upon supple purple speedo -- came together, their hearts both pounding so hard that each could feel the other's pulse through the fabric. Each inhaled deeply as he stared the other man down. Harry took hold of Teryx along his sides under the arms, as if perhaps to do a roll-back-and-throw maneuver using the counter as the surface on which to roll himself.

Teryx lunged in and buried his tongue in Harry's maw, kissing him wetly while grunting with a knowing, licentious sense of dominance. The tiger's flexing muscles shivered... and the intended throw never quite arrived.

There was the sound of whipping wind. The low rumble of distant thunder. Harry gazed into those violent eyes -- felt the tongue of the Storm lashing into him, filling him...

Something primal switched on in Harry. His rear felt empty. Too empty. His pre flowed in the speedo, making a moist mess of his shaft. With a mewling moan, he ground himself harder against Teryx's bulge.

The storm dragon pulled back from the kiss, saliva lingering on a thread between them before being crudely sucked in by the dragon's hungry maw. He licked over the bridge of Harry's small muzzle, tongue brushing the fur between the eyes and flicking up along his forehead.

"All mine, big tiger~" Teryx teased, as he grabbed Harry again and turned him facedown over the bar counter once more. This time, the tiger stayed put as those dextrous, clawed hands relieved him of his underwear, which ended up around his ankles before being kicked clear by some footplay from the dragon. Harry's large paw-feet rose, stepping free onto the carpet. He didn't fully understand what was going on anymore; he only knew that he needed Teryx inside him like he hadn't needed anything before. It was like being addicted to something he didn't know he had ever used, or at least not that much, and the craving was hitting him so hard and deep...

There was a roar of lust from Harry as Teryx's bulge prodded along the left side of his rump.

"Evan, dear," the dragon said conversationally to the bear. "Won't you come be a sport and get my pants down? They're so tight and fussy... much like your boss here."

Hesitation followed. Harry's head turned to glare at him before gutturally shouting, "DO IT!"

Evan couldn't help feeling the dragon's throbbing prick and swollen balls through the fabric as he tugged down first the pants and then the briefs he was wearing underneath. Teryx's endowment was... different. Evan had seen it before, despite not having experienced it firsthand. The man didn't have a knot -- certainly nothing approaching a proper one. Why did he have that now? Something was strange, but the sheer lust between his boss and this dommy, horny monster was becoming infectious. As he helped get those clothes down, Evan started to feel his own erection too. His reservations were being muffled rather than growing clearer. The only solidity was in arousal -- in turgid blood-flow and in passionate male bodies.

Teryx was smiling. Lightnings arced in the distance, sending more of the city into a powerless state... and here, in the storm's very eye, he would claim his first prizes of the morning. The orb within him was hot with power, infused with his lust and responding to his need. He would shape everything, fill everything...

"Bring me Harry's personal harness and hood, a crop, and a chastity," said Teryx to Evan, who was clearly staring at his knotted cock. "How good of a pet Harry is with the former items will determine when the latter one goes on."

Evan nodded nervously before darting away to fetch the items. Meanwhile, Harry growled, the pitch of it unusually high as he pressed his rear back against Teryx's shaft.

"Yes, you're my big, good kitty," Teryx whispered to him. "This influence will keep growing until you're all mine... ripe for the claiming... just release your inner beast and let me be your guide~"

The cocktip teased Harry's hole twice, before the dragon embarked upon a friskier, more aggressive removing of lingering clothing bits and accessories. It was sin to have it any other way... he would show his full glory here...

Evan returned not long after, apparently being very familiar with the items' locations. Teryx made him hold onto the knotted base of his shaft at one point in the process of slipping Harry into the black leather harness and getting the hood on to muffle his increasingly bestial vocalizations. A simple wrist-tying left Harry's hands controlled but his palms free to grasp the far side of the counter for support... and the riding crop, well...

Thwack. THWACK!!

Teryx was staying him hard on the ass. Harry's tailhole was winking in response, body warming up so much with desire that it wasn't shy about making clear what it most needed. Teryx's erection became ever more rigid, seeming to grow subtly in size with bloodflow it hadn't had a moment prior, the more he exercised his dominance over the tiger. Precum was oozing heavily from Teryx, while Harry's balls were tightening up and sagging in cycles as the series of crop-strikes came and went.

"Who's going to be my mount for tonight, hmm?" Teryx teased him before swatting his lower back with the crop. "Who's too busy getting ridden in this stormy weather to open his bar?"

A muffled, "It's me," came back from the hooded face.

"That's right..." A few harsh strikes on Harry's lower legs followed; a dollop of pre flowed onto the counter's edge, issuing from Harry's prick.

Teryx, panting and showing all of his fangs as his lust reached a peak, turned and glared at Evan, who had been watching the evolution of Teryx's arousal with an increasingly intoxicated personality. Storm's presence and behavior were getting deeper into Evan's head the longer the scene went on, and now even the cautious bear was finding it hard not to desire what the dragon had to offer.

"Get those abominations off of yourself," Teryx scolded, pointing the crop variously at the different articles of Evan's clothing. "Expose yourself and become part of the Storm."

The bear was shaking as he obeyed. His face made it seem as if he still wasn't sure why he was obeying, but his cock was so fucking hard and his blood pumping so fast...

Evan was nicely enough endowed, for a bear and non-Teryx person. Storm didn't exactly sneer at it, instead smiling a bit and encouraging the bear to masturbate as he admired the next stage of the fun.

Teryx lathered both his cock and Harry's hole with his own precum -- and impaled the tiger's rear on that cock with a single, full-length thrust.

"Good, you're all ready to take me," Storm complimented the tiger. "I knew you would be. You're less inferior than most of them..."

"I'm your cat..." Harry said quietly within the hood.

The dragon was starting to thrust -- quick, deep, exuberant, hips bucking as he let the riding crop go down and swat twice along Harry's ankles. "Yes, but why only be my cat when you can be so much more?"

Evan was masturbating compulsively now, his arousal shooting upward. There was a palpable hum of energy in the air as he watched Teryx hilt, lean forward, and pull the hood back off of Harry to expose his head.

The tiger looked momentarily confused. Within seconds, however, he would look utterly calm. Hood and riding crop alike dropped the floor, no longer necessary for the deeper bondage the storm dragon was about to invoke.

"I'm you, Harry," the dragon whispered. "Think you can be me? Let's find out~"

Bringing his right hand up along Harry's right temple, Teryx extended the index finger and pressed the pad of the tip against that soft spot on the tiger's skull. An invisible hum of electricity followed, producing a current connecting Teryx to the tiger.

Harry's body underwent a moment of convulsion -- it might have looked orgasmic if not for how his arms awkwardly spasmed and rotated -- and then Teryx was seeing the world through his eyes, which glowed with a pale blue crackle for the duration.

Within moments of allowing that connection to deepen, it was full-on bodily possession, with Harry's weakened will now completely subsumed beneath the crushing narcissism of the storm dragon's personality. Teryx's perfect form continued rhythmically fucking, behaving like a chiseled sex robot that ran on scripts created from Storm's lusts and personal habits.

The point of the experience wasn't to enjoy Harry's body (even if it was rather enjoyable in its own right) but to revel in the feeling of being fucked and dominated by himself. He was so superior that he could inject himself into his prey and claim even their submission as his own, absorbing them into the churning will of the Storm. Soon he would bless this one with the lightning-strike of his climax, sharing in the luscious filling of this thoroughly claimed rear.

Nearby, the bouncer was stroking himself sumptuously and moaning. Caught up in the new level of excitement, his sense of reason had left him altogether.

"Don't you dare cum yet," Harry's mouth spoke to the bear... but the scathing tone belonged to Storm.

"Yessir," said the bear, giving his dick two hard squeezes as if to tell it the show was temporarily over.

"Edge, but don't cum," Storm commanded through Harry. "Hold your lusts upon the sharp side of the knife for us. Rest assured, when this is over, we will cut you free with the release you crave."

Teryx's knot was swelling, the influx of blood into it paralleling the way his essence had flooded into the captive mind of Harry. That was the only way someone could be "good" in Storm's book: to accept life as an extension of him.

As that knot went full and tight deep inside of him, Harry was on the verge of climax too.

"On the floor, Evan," declared the Storm-ridden tiger. "You better wedge yourself under me and suck every drop down..."

Already too overcome by the situation to have any hope of resisting, Evan approached and complied immediately, squatting low and scooting himself under the counter to take Harry's long and handsome prick into his jaws. The tiger's hands steadied their grip on the far side of the counter, while Evan suckled excitedly and jerked himself faster. The Storm was perfect. It was important for him to squat, suck, and jerk...

The possessing current in Harry arced through into Evan. The bear's mind was a crackling, gusty hum of his own lusts and thoughts of Storm's choosing. He was a slut -- a good slut who would become Storm for a time and then fall asleep in adoration of Storm after they were done here...

Evan barely seemed to notice when the warm, spurty eruption came from Harry. It filled his cheeks to overflowing, the tiger having apparently been pent up for far longer than he had ever let on. Evan choked for a moment but managed to gulp it all down. It was like drinking the Storm , if only by proxy.

Mind howling with these thoughts, Evan came too -- making a mess of his hands, feet, and the carpet below as he ejaculated without concern.

"Please, Storm, give it to me," the possessed Harry moaned to his greater self right behind him. "I'm such a weak tiger and need your love to make me feel safe again. Only by playing with bondage and submission can I feel like my world has any sort of control... oh gods yes Storm, give it all... rrrhhhrrghhh...!!"

He had moaned and growled for Storm like a puppet in a play, with each tapped-into insecurity and enforced admission serving as yet more fuel for the dragon's self-directed lust. This adoration was suitable -- so good that Teryx could feel it in his balls, a tingling of potency and a swell of need, followed by those perfect spasms of release. He pumped his seed so deep and plentifully into Harry that for a time it seemed there might never be an end to it, and that all the tiger's world might forevermore be the sensation of that girthy, knotted cock pulsating within him and producing a spurt-fountain of semen. Nevertheless, after the eighteenth spurt, it became gradually apparent that the torrent was tapering... if only gradually. Teryx's claws grasped viciously along the tiger's sides as this continued, nearly drawing blood in spots with how deep he dug them.

The strength of the possession in Harry was fading, if only because Storm didn't feel like maintaining his hold while he felt so good. Evan, down below, was looking confused and foggy -- but still deliciously suggestible.

"Go to sleep, Evan," Storm reaffirmed to the dazed bear. "I don't need you anymore."

There was a faint twist of disappointment in the bear's face as he keeled over sideways and fell into a silent, deeply breathing doze.

"Now as for you, Harry..."

The tiger was groggy... his mind not working right. He felt like an animal, a confused animal out in a driving rain. Wind everywhere. Lightning everywhere. Nowhere safe... but his ass was full and warm. Full and warm was good. It made his tail sway.

Storm spoke again, his voice coming to Harry like sound through an accumulated pool of water: "Be a dear and give me a cigar. A nice one, mind you -- something worth smoking after a climax like this one."

Harry nod-nodded while rumbling ferally. He stood woozily upright -- tried turning aside and moving forward, but found himself impeded by Storm's thick knot. They were stuck together.

"Such a silly tiger. Seems I have to do everything for you." With a grunt of mock frustration, Storm bucked his hips thrice in reverse, causing Harry's eyes to bug out and jaw to gape as the massive knot worked its way back to crowning within the tiger's hole. Teasingly, and for the sheer fun of feeling the feline's rear suffer, Storm left it in that position for a moment, the widest part of it stretching Harry and prompting growls, spasms, and confused blinking. Storm's spent cock flinched upward twice as the anal clenching sped up, and the last unshown droplets of his cum oozed free of his member. "Such a slut~" Storm whispered to him, before commanding him, "now push."

Harry seemed at last to remember that was a thing. He moaned softly as he flexed his rear and worked the knot out of him, stressed entrance closing wetly around the narrower portion of the dragon's shaft and leaving a visible, cum-draining gape once the shaft had pulled away.

Silently, Teryx took hold of the chastity cage, thus far unused, and held onto it as he spoke to the tiger again: "Now, isn't that better? It's good being my confused kitty. Just imagine a whole night with me. You won't know what's heads or tails by the end. Both will be full to the brim with all I have to offer. To say nothing of your poor mind, which seems quite full of my clouds already~"

Harry leaned against him, panting hard and looking back at him with a strange recognition. He still couldn't seem to find his words, but he was aware of the basic meaning of what Storm was saying.

"It was a good fuck," the dragon concluded, now that he had the dazed tiger's attention again. "Now how about that cigar?"

Now free from the knot's specific flavor of bondage, Harry was quick to provide. He walked away with Storm's semen dripping from him as if it were perfectly natural to do so. The tiger's own spent balls were hanging low, the right a little further down than the left as he made his way to his personal stash in his office. He didn't seem at all put-upon by the fact his wrists were still bound in front of him, Acquiring the cigar was tricky and required a few moments of confusion as he finally noticed that his hands didn't have the freedom of movement to which they were accustomed, but he clumsily managed to retrieve one fat cigar from the box.

Harry handed it over without a word, prompting Storm to take it and give the tiger a deep, momentarily breath-sucking kiss in response.

"Good man. Now settle down and take a rest."

Harry did so, plopping onto his chair and sitting there with a blank look, his mind damp and full of the essence of roaring winds.

Teryx moved in close and attached the chastity cage to him -- wiping off that spent cock and then getting the device snugly in position. Harry was like his pet now, and this plus the harness formed the collar the man so richly deserved.

"You won't look for the key until I come back for you," Teryx told him with their eyes meeting -- and gave him a deep and sultry kiss. The groggy tiger rumbled quieter, sagging back in his chair after the dragon broke off the kiss. Harry looked positively drunk on pleasure. "Now get some sleep, my sweet orange flower~"

Harry's eyes lidded, his breaths growing deep and steady. That would do for now.

Teryx returned to the bar area, amusedly following the trail of his own spunk, and found Evan still asleep on the floor.

The dragon hoisted the sleeping Evan over one shoulder, carrying him like a potato sack. The bear was hefty, but the dragon was supernaturally strong at this stage and moved as if not encumbered at all.

The black bear stirred, mumbling something incoherent. His consciousness was slowly returning, the mind-mist clearing gradually and allowing him to reawaken to unexpected sensations: ropes being tied around his limbs... an old-fashioned hogtying. A ball-gag in his mouth followed a moment later. Then there was a wet, warm feeling -- a knotted silicone toy being inserted into his rear, coated in a thick smear of Teryx's semen.

Once that was done, Teryx lifted and carried him again -- still belly-down and now ineffectually squirming those bound limbs -- and placed him atop the bar with his ass toward the door and his cock and balls dangling over the edge. If he remained there, it would provide a free backsack view for any other workers who might show up before Harry became awake enough again to send out the closure notices that Storm's meddling had compelled him to want to send.

By the time Storm had situated Evan just so, the bear was quite annoyed and growling as he shook and squirmed atop the counter. He didn't try making himself fall off, but that may have only been because Teryx was still present. The bear was, however, staring daggers at the dragon.

"Don't question it too much," said Teryx as he finally lit up that cigar using a lighter he found handy at the bar counter. He continued gazing at the bear while savoring the initial smoke -- and then blew it dismissively across those rude eyes and the sensitive nose near them, promoting a hard blink and a disgruntled snort. "You're simply inferior," Teryx explained with a shrug while holding the cigar aside. "This is how I treat inferiors, sometimes. Hope you like it~"

He held the cigar under the bear's nose for a moment, just to irritate it, before casually wandering around the bar and out the door. He didn't particularly care what the bear might choose to do with his returning, laughable "free will" now. Knowing Evan, the bear would probably waste it flinging himself to the floor and inchworming through the corridors in to get Harry's attention. Alas, Storm had better things to do with his time than complete a truly "special" bondage setup for an ingrate he didn't care about fucking a second time. Harry... perhaps Harry would be worth another round, if only to make him mewl like a kitten.

Storm savored the taste of the cigar, gleefully losing himself in the splendor of his own power as he made his way down to street level once again. It scarcely occurred to him that he was naked until a pair of gawking eyes and a confusedly gaping wolf maw met him on the way down. An imperious stare and a surge of the orb's power was more than enough to make the surprised man start rationalizing to himself that whatever he saw must make sense; it was nothing out of the ordinary.

Gleefully coasting on the highs of sex and domination, Storm continued leveraging his powers at every turn -- turning heads away if they weren't his type, or encouraging them to gaze upon him in pining, despairing awe if they looked like a potential fun ride. None were permitted to think so much as a thought in protest: to do so was met with a rush of magically induced confusion, which in a few cases led to his victims dropping conversations and running outside into the storm -- only to look up at the sky and soak themselves, with absent looks upon their faces.

He placed what was left of his cigar on a bench by the front door, both because it was fun to put it there instead of the nearby rubbish bin, and as a way of marking what he now saw as conquered territory.