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A cry of rage, a shot, and more screams. The Realm had devolved into a battlefield that stretched across cities, fields, and forts. Slowly, ever so slowly, the Resistance and the Magistrate alike were pushed away as they were forced to break pacts with strangers and ravenous entities.

Yet… Even them.

[I]Raum

Health: 1/4500

[/I]“I WILL SLAUGHTER YOU!" shouted Raum, his broken guns thrown aside by the invaders, his eyes glancing at his status windows revealing the truth: he was at one health point from death. He… It was a defeat, utter defeat.

“Yes, yes. You will slaughter us without your weapons. Whelp. Is that the threat you warned us about?"

The Draconic Commander looked back at Raum, the Rage of the Abyss, one of the Abyssal Lords, with contempt. They ignored his fiery features, his artificial arm soaking with lava and fire, his mask covering his mouth… Or the hatred in his gaze.

It had no worth to them as the dragon turned toward one of his peers, Drogoz.

Wingless and nothing but a wyrm, the mercenary looked at Raum and nodded. Raum sometimes fought with the greedy wyrm and watched him blast people with missiles from the sky. The creature had been a boasting one and always eager to shout when the spoils of war were distributed. But now, it looked meek as it looked towards what seemed to be his superiors in this war: Dragons. Dragons against everything else. Somehow, those same Dragons had recovered their numbers to stand a war. Although Raum didn't know why: nobody had revealed anything to him. Which was fine for him… Until now.

During that final assault, the walls had been breached. His underlings had run away, fleeing for their lives. The poor idiots were still screaming, as proved by the distant sounds from that debacle. Raum? He had been standing on the breach, his guns blazing and raging as death and chaos fueled his wrath and power.

Yet, he had been bested. His power drained, his weapons broken… He was lying amidst the ruins, looking back at Drogoz and his Commander, who seemed familiar.

“Get on with it. Kill me. Send me back to the Abyss. I will return for you, one day or another," he said, his eyes glimmering with rage. They only needed to breathe on him, to slap him, or anything to kill him. He had but that one health point left. Whereas they were in top shape. Even if he had enough energy to summon a portal, it would have been impossible to reach within in time and shoot at them without getting a reaction.

“Typical of their soldiers," said the Commander, his voice tactless as he turned to Drogoz. “We can't convert him. He's a spawn from the Abyss. We have no use for him."

“If… I may. I have heard rumors of him. And Tiberius. About-“

Raum didn't need to heed further, his face burning both in frustration and shame. This had been a weakness of him to allow Tiberius to have fun with his body. Even now, with the cat missing, Raum still felt that tingling within his nethers and the utter shame of letting a mortal influence him as much.

“Yes. I have heard of it… Maybe he'll be a prize for our Lords," chuckled the Commander as he turned to Raum and snapped.

“What- GIVE ME A BLADE! KILL ME!" shouted Raum, yet Draconic enforcers grabbed him by the arms and lifted him off despite his weight. They acted like it was nothing, yet Raum heard their gruff breaths as they dragged his exhausted body through the battlefield.

“Don't kill him off!" shouted the Commander to his subordinate, walking with his rifle over his shoulder; his stance was… Too familiar. Closer to another mercenary.

Yet, Raum was dragged outside the fortress before he could attract more attention. Carried by the Dragons, he could rage on and cried… But didn't. Instead, his wrath turned cold, and his hatred followed him as he glanced around. Those pitiful soldiers, those mortals, had been captured. His last stance had been for nothing, and those useless dolts were screaming in agony, chained, as they were dragged towards the Dragons' camp. And so Raum followed.

“What will you do, beast? To me? To them?" he asked, scornful.

“Uh… Not your problem; you can't be converted," chuckled one of the Enforcers. His words and stance… That one, too, seemed familiar. But everything about those dragons seemed familiar in a way, and it wronged Raum as they delved into the camp.

Steel and fabric were everything the Dragons brought with them to prepare their camp: no moat or walls whatsoever. They only prepared for an assault and breached any protection as if they didn't care for the expended lives.

A… Part Raum could agree with, disregarding his wellbeing for the slaughter. But they were not immortal, and their zeal was blind.

“Where are you carrying me?" he gruffly asked, his nose catching the more pungent aroma of Draconic Musk as they delved into the camp. But even within those, the screams for soldiers continued—they were stronger. Whatever happened, they shouted for their dear lives before their voices disappeared and were replaced one by one.

“Slaughtering them?" he asked, his curiosity peaking as the Enforcers chuckled beside him, dragging him further within the camp, ascending the slopes while the tents seemed to clear.

“No. Conversion. Soft-skins hate it. But they will be crushed and join us."

“Shut up. He doesn't have to know!" said the second Enforcer, not so bright either.

Alas… Everything involved that conversion. The eagerness to sacrifice, their numbers, their familiarity. Raum wasn't stupid. Those Dragons were converted from mortals, using a ritual or something to give them their forms and their loyalty. But the how? Now, Raum's attention was all for the ritual.

“I can't see it?" he asked, eliciting a groan from the Enforcer.

“See! Now, he'll scream! I won't hear a thing for hours!"

[I]Raum

Health: 15/4500[/I]

“… I won't scream," said Raum, his voice low as he glanced at his health bar… He had healed a bit, barely lower than a percent. But he was healing. If he recovered enough and managed to steal the Dragons' secret, he could get an army… And crush the other abyssal lords, even the Pyre, in one swoop! And burn them all!

“Are you sure?"

“Yes."

“Well… We should let him see. The commander hasn't said anything about a detour? And it's fun! We won't betray our allegiance!"

The right Enforcer wasn't the brightest… More than that, what was his real identity? He was stocked, heavy… For a moment, Raum glanced at him.

“Who were you before becoming a Dragon?" he dared to ask.

The Enforcer looked back at him… But then turned his head away, forward. They avoided tents and made a detour towards the east as the screams were getting louder, and so was the Draconic musk hanging in the air. It was heavy, musty, with traces of burnt wood. It stuck around and made the Demon snarl beneath his mask as they arrived in a clearing.

In it, the prisoners were all aligned, their chained feet and hands giving them no option but to follow the lines. Their faces were contorted by fear and anxiety as the screams from the front were hellish. The poor sods were afraid of death, of their conversion, as they were technically led to a slaughter.

He watched the advancing row, up to a board where the mortal's fetters would be removed. Some tried to escape… But everyone ended up thrown from the board into that pool of fluid. White fluids the Dragons were filling with many grunts and groans, uncaring.

Raum watched those male Dragons masturbate ashamedly, their hands going over their groins to grab their drippy cocks and stroke them. Whenever one was done, his spot near the pool was replaced, and they kept adding, heavy loads after heavy loads.

Raum himself watched it with a certain surprise… before he observed one human thrown in it.

The poor bastard sank immediately; the pool was more profound than expected. Right away, he started to cry while steam surrounded him, and red details appeared on his outstretched hand. The human cried, shouted, and begged for mercy. But the Dragons used a paddle to keep his head under the musky and tacky flow until there were no movements anymore.

“A strange method," commented Raum, almost… Surprised by the mortals' unfettered imagination. Using their fluids as a tool wasn't something he had considered. For a moment, his rage was replaced by amazement as he saw an arm outstretch from beneath the surface: red from its scales, its fingers clawed, and the strength bulging from beneath. Then, horns protruded from the pool, followed by the entire bulky creature which seemed appeased.

With careful steps, it ascended outside, cum-coated, with his former clothes turned into rags. He was then given a towel by another soldier and led further.

“Hehe. Our cum is so strong it converts lesser races into our own!" chuckled one of the Enforcers, proud of himself and lazily stroking his groin.

“Think about conversion and fucking later; we've got a prisoner."

A prisoner whose gaze remained on the pool as he was turned away and forced to follow those guards higher after that little walkaround. Surely, there was something more at play than fluids, but he had to watch. They said to him he couldn't be converted. He couldn't be killed without being sent into the Abyss with that knowledge. They could only chain him and keep him around.

“What's so funny?" asked the second Enforcer, giving an elbow jab in Raum's side to cease that laughter.

“The idea of mortals killing their friends without knowing! A proper slaughter!" said Raum, the demon chuckling and boasting… And lying about what made him laugh. Partially. He would get their knowledge and get out, one way or another.

A sentence… Easier said than done. As Raum learned.

Once the Enforcer put him in his cage by the Commander's tent, he found himself stuck by antimagic bars. Even touching them was draining and taking away the last few healthpoint he had managed to recoup. He could still go back to the Abyss that way… But dying wasn't an appreciated fate. Neither was the shame of being killed while monitored by the other Abyssal Lords. They were keen on mocking him, judging him, considering him less... not on his skill for combat but his raw power. Raw power was nothing if you couldn't prove it, and their petty powerplay was something Raum didn't indulge in it: the massacres were enough.

Massacres he wasn't getting as he looked around and tried to make sense of the Dragons' actions. They had been an almost extinct species in the realm, and with their conversion, they were one of the biggest threats. However, the magic they used to corrupt mortals with their seed… Raum needed to find it and he listened.

Not with tempestuous outrage nor with outbursts. He closed himself, allowing the soldiers to poke fun at him as it merely added fuel to his flames. He closed himself to the remarks about a giant demon like him being caught and bound.

He attempted to listen to those Dragons coming in large robes and speaking of esoterics in front of him. Lifeforce or correct crystal rates…

They constantly spoke of those two, even when they approached his cage to prod him. They touched his skin, even cut a little part of it. They lifted his arms and asked him questions about the artificial one's origin. He didn't answer, letting them frown, puff, and run away with a huffy attitude.

It was but pettiness, but even an Abyssal Lord wasn't above it.

“When will we move?" he finally asked one of the guards on faction near him; the poor sod was one of the recently converted, as confirmed his smell: musky yet bearing the touches of many males. That smell, as well as his uncertain stance, told everything Raum needed.

“Don't ask me, demon."

“I am an abyssal lo-“

“YOU!"

A third voice echoed, coming right from a Commander. Not a recent one, and his posture was regal, his shoulders well decorated with medals. A high-ranked individual pointed at the guard. … Was it the same?

“You. Let the prisoner out. The Generals needs him."

“But… Sir. He's dangerous?"

[I]Raum

Health: 180/4500[/I]

With a glance, Raum confirmed he had regained enough health points for a mad rush through the camp. He only needed a few deaths to recover his power… The humans were not kept afar. A rush, and he could escape. But would he?

“He's not. He'll remain calm as long as he doesn't know how we proceed with the conversion. Is this right, Abyssal Lord?"

Beneath his mask, Raum snarled but stood up, his arms against his body. Then, his mouth contorted into a smile beneath the mask as he looked at the commander as his cage opened.

“Aren't you a smart one? You should know the craft to convert people. What stops me from grabbing you and fleeing with you?"

“You are too weak. Without a massacre to heal yourself, anyone can send you to the Abyss, Raum."

“Touché," answered Raum, pointing an index towards the Commandant, who turned away and beckoned the Demon to follow. Such action was rash, proving both a sort of respect and arrogance Raum could… Appreciate.

“Who are you, little one? We already discussed during my capture," started Raum, prodding.

“And before. We maintained a distance, but we worked together before."

“Before?"

“On the battlefields before the invasion. You might remember me as Viktor," said the Commander, his tail wagging behind him with that sibylline expression.

Viktor… A soldier and mercenary Raum had worked with. And now… A dragon. It explained many things.

“You're asking yourself why would I reveal this? And why the Generals need you. What you'll gain, Raum," continued Viktor as they approached a tent. He pushed the flap aside, urging Raum to enter. “You'll gain something even better than conversion."

On that note, the scenery then changed. From a cold camp out in the north, he was in a regal tent with piles of gold adding up to a throne where sat a heavy Dragon, seemingly unbothered by the Demon as he snored.

The sight caught Raum by surprise as he was ushered to the left. Here, the tent extended and formed a small wing where huddled soldiers around a map, all sitting on little cushions and pointing at different points.

“Generals," suddenly cut Viktor, his voice cold as everyone looked at him… Then, at Raum. “The Abyssal Lord is here. Shall I prepare him?"

“Nonsense!" retorted one General, a dragon with oriental features, his scales of red and black. He leaned forth, grabbing the map he swiftly rolled and placed by his waist. Beneath it was a mere mat, but the Dragon tapped it.

“Sit, Demon. We have much to prepare."

It was… A planned moment. They hadn't been surprised. Instead, it was a way to ease him off and instill a false sense of security. A ploy Raum still followed as he sat in the middle. But not by crossing his legs, their forms barely allowing it, but with his legs spread.

“Demon, we know of your interest in our warring method."

Raum tilted his head, surprised… And yet, the Dragons scoffed, especially Viktor.

“Your way of watching our magus and your first interest in the conversion is known, Raum. You want to use it to convert your enemies. Maybe… We can help each other."

“… I listen," answered Raum, raising an eyebrow. They were desperate for his approval, good. All this was to appeal to his ego, and he would surely try to steal the most out of it if they were ready to bow so low.

“We will provide our methods and knowledge for converting your enemies. And you will follow our instructions, participate in our tests," admitted one of the Generals, a stubby gray-looking Dragon.

“I might participate. Only if I keep around two of your oldest Magus around, in the abyss."

The Dragons gulped at the request. They looked at one another. But finally, as they turned towards one of the Magus, they nodded.

“As long as they're not maimed or hurt."

“And you swearing, I'll be able to use that method."

Again, the Dragons gulped at one another… But shook their heads.

“We… Cannot promise this. But should the result be conclusive and positive, yes."

Raum… Frowned. He frowned. He might not gain anything useful… Unless. If the tests failed, he could sell the information to the other side for an army.

He chuckled, much to the Dragons' dismay.

“Fine! I accept!"

“Perfect. Strip."

“Of-… What?"

Raum's fingers remained on his waist as he turned towards all the Dragons around. They… Asked him? To strip? He shook his head. Maybe his mind had played him a trick, or was it a consequence of his imprisonment? He was hearing things, surely?

“Strip. We need you naked for the experiment, Raum," said the Eastern Dragon General, his golden eyes focused on the Demon who… Stood there, bewildered.

“… Fine!"

With a roar, Raum finally outstretched his arms up and then lowered them, going over the metal belt maintaining his skirt up. He unbuckled it. The metal had been bent out of shape due to the fights, but he still managed to open the lock and… In a clang, the belt fell, smacked his wounded tail, and dropped on the floor while he peeled off the metal skirt.

“I don't know what you, mortals, have with your bodies," he mused, thinking about that perverted Cat.

Still, he ended up naked and exposed to those Dragons. Without his skirt, his bits were… Well. A feast for the naked eye. As his skin was red like burnt flesh, so were his testes snug in his leathery scrotum. Big like boulders, they gave off heat and a scent of powder and wood that stuck with the Demon's manhood as well as his sheath where his cock was hidden, its folds covering his length. However, his cocktip remained exposed to the tent's atmosphere, and its wide end revealed itself, glistening and… Sticky with fluids.

He looked at it with a growl, daring a finger to pinch his sheath on the right side, tugging at it, while the precum and sweat started to pour… And drip onto the tent. It wasn't right. Maybe…

Maybe his regular sessions with that damned Cat had cursed him.

“Well… Is that all?" he finally asked, looking up and watching the Dragons focusing on him. In awe, in disgust, in frustration, in excitement. A myriad of emotions were plastered over their muzzles, and they didn't hide them from him, while Raum himself only had his eyes to speak for himself. And right now, they spoke of his disinterest as he released the sheath.

“Satisfied?" he asked, his voice rumbling with a tone of frustration and anger, only met with a cough.

“Yes. Yes. This is good, Raum," answered the Commander who had brought him here, and he snapped. “We appreciate your cooperation. And ask you to remain still while we proceed with our tests."

Of course… More tests.

Raum sighed and looked away, hearing the stomping of leaner and shorter Dragons entering the tent by pushing the flap. They had been waiting for this, ready to jump in at the signal. Their ploy was evident, yet frustrating to be a part of for the Abyssal as he opened his legs wider and rested his chin in his palm. Leaning back against a table, listening to the gibberish the Dragons spoke between themselves. He expected more… And. He was bored.

Bored of the Mages prodding at his skin with their claws. They were talking to themselves, too, while some were taking notes and comparing them. He was… A pet. They talked about him as if he wasn't there and exchanged, even chuckled while they pointed at him and drew circles. He could burn them all… Easily. But he would be as quickly sent back to the Abyss without the actual knowledge the Dragons had used to prepare such an army. He was sure what he had seen the first day was but a part, a figment of what the Dragons used.

“Is that all you ask of me? To stay still so you can poke at me?" he finally asked Viktor, calling on the Commander, who straightened, turned… And notified the Generals of his absence, as they drank and chatted in their corner.

“Is there a problem, Raum? You won't rescind on our accord?" asked Viktor, his voice cold. Was he afraid of him?

“I won't," said Raum as he waved his arm, stilling reclining, in the mages' direction. They seemed to have reached a consensus as they nodded and… “HRMPH!"

The bite of cold steel hit his scrotum, sending a spark through his spine in a way he hadn't experienced. Wounds were expected, but to have his scrotum pierced by needles was a first for Raum.

“What are they doing?!" he exploded, raising an arm towards the mage between his legs. The idiot recoiled in the instant, afraid of Raum's fury that could be seen in his gaze. But then, a cough.

“He's preparing your body. Tattoos are an important part of our tests."

“Are they necessary?" asked Raum, cocking an eyebrow as he watched the mage nod again and again, his face contorted in pure fear. “Fine."

Then… He reclined, outstretching his legs as he allowed the mage to continue his pinprick. Kneeling between his legs, the creature was surely overwhelmed by Raum's potent scent, and his huffing breath became a sort of background noise, adding up to the blabber of the different groups… Before he turned to Viktor.

“Is this transformation? Your transformation was painful?" asked Raum.

“It… Was… Strange," admitted Viktor, stepping away for a second only to return with a glass. One he offered to Raum… Before he noticed the mask covering the Demon's mouth. He made an “Oh" of disappointment and kept the glass to himself.

“I feast on mortals' fears and regrets, not wine or flesh like you," said Raum with an unrepentant teasing as he felt his testes warm up more and more. With a glance, he saw how the red skin had been covered with markings remembering the swirlings of magic while Draconic runes had been etched in between.

“Urmph. To answer your answer," tried Viktor, taking a sip, “I was unwilling. But when I was brought to the pool and immersed, I felt the rush of power and… The might I could possess. I can still feel it in my veins, the strength and the durability of a dragon. A power I am happy to get."

Raum listened but the tone was a tad… Rehearsed. Probably, there was something underlying or a piece of hidden information. However, Raum could not listen more when he sensed the pinprick stop. Or rather, it had stopped long enough for his skin to recover and for him to notice the strange aura the tattoos gave off. But there was no mage anymore; they were all gone. All of them. Therefore, leaving the Generals who approached while still talking among themselves.

“Is it done?" asked Raum, almost bored when he watched Viktor fidget and… take another gulp of wine.

“Not yet. We need to… Active the enchantment."

“How?"

The answer came quickly when shuffling belts and undone armors echoed within the tent. A once-over was enough to confirm the Generals were all stripping naked. Unashamed, talking, chatting, they exchanged as if there was no Abyssal Lord in their vicinity. As for Raum, he merely watched with a surprised eyebrow while they approached… And Viktor stood at the ready.

“Generals! The Abyssal Lord has been prepared."

“Of course he is," stated one of the General, a portly dragon whose genitals were hanging heavy between his legs and whose… Dragonhood stood erect, dripping, and rigid.

“Get on with it, so we can return to our ow- What?"

Raum had been looking away, bored by the shameful display. But couldn't when a scalie hand reached for his groin and sheath, pushing against it.

“What are you doing?" he raged, raising a hand, ready to crush that mortal's skull. Yet… he stayed his hand and watched that round General step back.

“We need… To… Commander, have you not warned him?"

“You-“ the Commander started, only to stop and turn to Raum, massaging his loins. “The Generals shall fill… Your genitals with their seed to activate the enchantment. It should be painless."

“Painl…" Raum groaned, pinching his nose beneath the mask from his frustration. Yet… he exhaled. “Do it. You're making me wait long enough."

In the end, Raum crossed his arms and reclined back as he watched the first General assume his former position.

[I]Raum

Health: 185/4500[/I]

As for the Abyssal Lord, he glanced at his health bar. Too low, too weak. He groaned…

He groaned when the Dragon's scalie hand stroked his sheath. The leathery skin wasn't inured at all, especially since he had started getting some special attention from Tiberius. He moaned. The touch was delicate and attentive to his sensations, with the General using his thumb to tug on the sheath and reveal the flared cocktip. He pulled the skin down, pushed against the soft sheath until Raum couldn't retain a soft sigh and blood pumped… And rushed… And flowed within his shaft.

As a Demon, he was hung. More so than many, had he been confirmed by Tiberius… But he didn't take pride in that mast that was acting on its own lately. It was flesh… Imperfect. That throbbing mast was a weakness someone could employ; that cocktip was too sensitive once out of the sheath, his testes could be hit. His scent, too, was strong and could reveal his presence should he not mind it.

But he didn't at that moment. And neither did the Dragons seem to mind it as the General stroked and guided Raum's cock upward.

“I told you, he is perfect for this," commented one of the Generals with a thick accent. The Eastern Dragon whose horns looked like a bull despite his mane. But before Raum could notice it more, the Dragon who had been stroking him huffed… Moved. And… Something colder pressed against Raum's cocktip.

A Dragon's body might be warm. But against his body, whose blood was akin to lava, Raum sensed that cock like an icepick. A cold presence nudging and prodding his cocktip, stroking his urethra with tiny touches. He breathed loudly, feeling and bracing himself for the moment when the cold cock would prod him.

He groaned, his digits gripping the nearby furniture until his claws and steel dug into the clean wood. He gasped when the cold precum dripped inside his wide urethra and… Groaned.

He shouldn't have given in to the Cat's desires. Even for such massages. Nonetheless, Tiberius had constantly egged him on… Asked him to enter his genitals, to fuck them, stroke them, caress them. In a way, Raum missed that damned idiot. And already, he heard in his mind what that damned Tiberius would say to him at that moment: “That's love, Beefcake. You haven't got that?"

Love. Raum scoffed at that reminded thought, only to swallow his arrogance when the first inch slipped inside. It was cold, so cold. But… It was pleasing, too. His urethra was stretchy and sensitive. It pulsed with his blood and clenched, exposing a control even if no apparent muscles or sphincter were inside. It was his body, and he could control it perfectly.

Even when reflexes were on the way and his cock's death grip made the General groan and sigh and beg for release.

“Raum… We need-“

“Yes… I know," groaned Raum as he sighed and released his grip. The General moved again, and went further inside while eyeing Raum with fear.

“I won't crush it," he said with a growl. “This is against our contract."

The General gulped and then looked down. His scalie fingers went over Raum's shaft and gripped it on either side. His palms were rough and calloused, but his movement was regular as he started to plunge within. One more inch. One more movement. One more quiver from the Dragon who seemed ecstatic at the idea of fucking Raum's dick and sensing the warm inner walls pressing on his thick cock.

The poor male groaned and bent over, his breathing short while he started to hump and hit Raum's cockhead with his hips. Again… And again… And again.

Dark fumes escaped the Dragon's nostril as his dick bulged through Raum's cock, making it bulge by his presence but nothing more. That one was… He was disappointing.

“Faster," groaned Raum, looking away and frustrated. Even the Cat's tongue was better than this. Tiberius knew the angle to take, the movements to do… Even the spot along his cockhead, the gentle line, he knew how to grip it and stroke. That… And his paws on his testes to massage them with a brutal efficacity.

Or his addiction to Raum's semen.

In comparison, that Dragon fumbled over himself and pitifully whined when he picked up the pace. His precum, cold as ice, kept dripping inside Raum's urethra and down his prostate, where it would finally heat up and become bearable.

The more that guy humped, and failed to please Raum, the more he produced. The more Precum dripped while his testicles smacked against Raum's equine length. The more… fluids started to fill Raum's prostate until it felt like it bloated.

“Faster!" shouted the Abyssal Lord, his eyes ablaze as he looked down upon that pathetic mortal. That failure of a male who whined, groaned, bent over… And ejaculated.

A cold… Icy flow went into Raum's urethra. A cold, icy, but intense flow descended his urethra and stole a groan out of the big Demon. He exhaled and trembled while his arms quivered and his entire body went into shock.

That sensation was alien, so different from anything he had experienced before. It was cold, yet fuzzy, yet warm, yet devoid of pain.

He exhaled, throwing his head back and nearly impaling his horns into the furniture and tent, unable to resist as his legs outstretched. In between, that portly Dragon kept humping and filling Raum's urethra, pumping more of that liquid that went against the Demon's fluids. His cum poured into the prostate and started to inflate it, only to disappear while leaving that lukewarm sensation behind. The sensation washed over the organ further and deeper. It invaded the reaches the Cat had tried and further.

It went further than any experience he had enjoyed… Rather, not as strongly. It wasn't like when Tiberius went into his testes. It was…. Different. Yet, it descended within his testes… Raum sighed. The cold and warm melded together like ice and fire. It merged, spread, and diffused until the warmth won over, and his testes were heating up with a renewed blaze. He sighed, almost satisfied as remained the relished pleasure and delight despite the poor Dragon still attempting to pour more. But it had to stop, it wasn't enough. Raum exulted.

“Hrmph! Good! Another!"

Another came… Not a General. But Viktor. His lean but muscular body slipped without a sound where the General had stood, his knees dropping inside the cum puddle as he grabbed Raum's cock like the one before did.

And like the one before, his cocktip was icy in comparison. Icy, cold… Imperfect for the Demon, who still enjoyed the caress around the cocktip and the steady progress of Viktor within.

With the first ejaculation, the insides were lubed and prepared… The urethra gaped with desire and lust… With an accustomed stretching that welcomed Viktor when he rushed within, forcing his length until it, too, bulged within Raum. Not as wide as the first General, Viktor compensated by a longer cock whose reach almost went beyond Raum's median ring.

His presence within tingled and remained pleasant, revealing once more the tantalizing pleasure Raum felt when giving in to the mortals' desires.

He groaned when Viktor, too, started to rock his hips back and forth. His scales were soft to the touch and against the flared tip. And his length was… used with more control. It was less of a hammer and more of a spear, Raum thought as he groaned and felt more precum pour within his prostate.

More… More… And more.

More precum. More tacky. More Musky. More intense… Until it was clear, from the clenching testicles and clenching thighs, Viktor had ejaculated. One ejaculation Raum rewarded by closing his urethra on the platelike foreskin Viktor's shaft sported. He tugged on it, too, and revealed that second part of the control he exerted.

And much to his discretion, Raum smiled. A devious smile burned beneath the mask and made his fiery eyes appear like an inferno while he felt the poor Dragon's semen within his organs. Another icy flow went inside his prostate and spread inside it. It was like tendrils spreading within the tiny crevices flesh naturally possessed in its wake. And when the time came, when the pressure had no other option but to drip down the Demon's testes… Once more went the fight of fire and ice.

One fight the Demon enjoyed, feeling the tingling within his testes when the Dragon's semen poured within… And bloated them. It… Took longer this time. But the spark after was even better for Raum's mind. Like a firework inviting him for more.

“AGAIN!"

He shouted, bringing his digits to his cock. Sweat covered it, and within his palms, he felt his quickened pulse even though he wasn't reaching any orgasm. He felt the quicker, the excitation his mind had been ignoring.

“I need another! Go on! Mortals!" he shouted, reaching from his urethra he hooked with one index. He pulled on the rim until it gained a vertical slit, and cum started to pour from it: golden like a blaze yet bearing the Dragons' scent as it dropped and joined the pool between his thighs.

He sighed, chuckled, and even roared as he watched those Generals look at him with surprise and fear. Yet, one more approached. A leaner General, whose dick was extremely long but thin, with a thick foreskin he peeled off to reveal the thin tip. He would reach far… And it was good.

It felt good when that one, too, started to hump and fuck Raum's cock. His actions were fruitless, thought the Abyssal Lord, and he wasn't as good as Viktor… But that Dragon proved to be enduring. It took longer for him to reach his orgasm. In the meantime, his precum kept pouring and swarming the Demon's prostate, both colder and better. It was… odd.

But oddity had no place within Raum's mind. As soon as the thought wandered behind his eyes, making him guess what was genuinely happening… The Dragon came. His semen was no different than the others in quality… However, he completed it in quantity. A quantity that dripped and flowed down once more.

His ejaculation was… like a fountain. And when the first two had felt like a droplet of ice amidst a lava ocean… That one felt like a cascade, pouring within Raum's testes until their entirety was fuzzing and lukewarm.

The pleasure that ensued was different, too. Instead of awaiting the fireworks at the end of that fight, it started in the instant. Like… Like a spark. Cold spark. The icy spark ran through Raum's spine and sent shivers through his body. A sickly, weird, abnormal shiver. He had never felt so cold, and it was…

“Impossible."

Raum moaned that word under the mask as he turned and watched the Generals talking to themselves in Draconic; even Viktor was among them. Then, his eyes drifted away from them. He drifted on his Health bar…

Bars. Plural.

There was a second.

A second Health Bar.

[I]Raum

Health: 200/4500

Testicles: 40/100

[/I]A second bar, Raum watched with bewildered eyes. Was he deceived? Was he imagining things? For a second, he stood still. He didn't even push back against the third General who went into his prostate. Compared to the others, his cock was small and thin. It was a pinprick, yet the poorly-endowed male attempted to fuck… He groaned, he moaned, he coughed… And spit flew over Raum's groin while the Demon observed.

[I]Testicles: 39/100

Testicles: 38/100

[/I]On the side, the tiny bar shrank… Going from pure red to white. It was… Impossible.

He trembled, he took a breath.

“Raum?"

Viktor's voice broke the shock from the Demon… As much as the tiny Dragon shooting inside him. Right away, the second bar dropped. [I]38[/I] to [I]33[/I]. [I]33[/I] to [I]27[/I]. [I]27[/I] to… [I]20[/I].

And with it… There was the coldness, the strange coldness that spread across. He gasped, feeling the icy presence sloshing and filling his nuts. A mere movement and the liquid hit his inner walls. It… Made him squirm and tremble. And then roar!

He stood up, his now translucent precum dripping from his cock. His balls were heavier, having almost doubled in volume from the poured-in semen. Worse, they were throwing the Demon's balance off as he watched the Dragons, towered over them.

Most recoiled, some bared their teeth, and even Viktor stepped back.

All but the Eastern Dragon general who approached, one of the few who hadn't fucked Raum yet. He stood like a shield, an arm outstretched.

“Leave the place. I'll handle this," said the Dragon with that same thick accent. “Even you, Viktor."

For a moment, the Commander stood still as the other Generals were taking their leaves. But so did he, when ordered, leaving only… That one. And Raum.

Raum, who huffed. Raum, who had his arms lifted. Raum, who was ready to pull one of his machine guns from the Abyss. He was… Ready. His breathing was still raw, he wasn't focused. His mind kept wandering to his Health Bars, then back to the cocky Eastern Dragon.

“This is fine, beefcake. Relax, breathe."

… That accent, that “beefcake". Raum's eyes widened again as he observed the way that Dragon walked towards him. His golden eyes were fixated on the Demon as he approached, outstretched an arm… And poked that large red chest, lifting at each of Raum's breaths.

“Cat?! Tiberius?"

“That's me!" answered the General, outstretching his arms to expose his body. He had strippes, too… His entire body was lean, covered with red scales marbled with a few darker ones. His hair had turned into a white mane, which he kept attached in the back, while large horns sprouted from his head, like bull horns.

He was different, but his posture and attitude remained the same while his digits danced over Raum's chest. Who remained surprised… before he frowned and lowered to be at the same eye level.

“Cat… What… Are… You… DOING?!" he asked, nearly shouting while articulating each word.

“I'm following orders," answered Tiberius, shrugging as he turned to grab something to drink. A bottle and a glass. But his swaying tail said something about his attitude.

“If you don't reveal to me what… Was… What you've done. I'm leaving and destroying that camp!"

“No. You're too weak, beefcake. Even you know. Come on… Sit."

Raum stood there. He huffed. He frowned. He even turned towards the exit before, in a muffled roar, he sat on the rug and watched Tiberius approach. Still, as shameless, the Cat turned Dragon had many options for where to sit. Instead, he put his scalie ass onto Raum's humongous red nuts, rubbing it against the leathery skin until…

Until the Demon was hard once more, precum dripped from his cock against Tiberius' back, and his balls were as painful as deliciously stroked.

For Raum, it was almost back to those massages Tiberius managed to deliver outside and inside… During the moment when the Cat was… Addicted to his semen.

“They'll kill you if you get out of here without me. And then, they'll finish the project of cutting ties between this plane and the abyss," said Tiberius, pouring his drink and lapping it like a cat.

“Preposterous. They can't," scoffed Raum, though his bravado was but a façade. He was hard… And… That ass was giving each nut a firm squeeze.

“They can. They already cut the ties with the Pyre, beefcake. You. And the others, once they're killed, you'll be stuck in the Abyss."

Raum grumbled at the threat. But at the same time, he could concede it. He hadn't smelled the Pyre's detestable aura in weeks.

“Then tell me why I must stay calm… And let you do this to my… Testicles," articulated Raum, his mask burning bright. “Choose your words, Tiberius."

“Because I want you at my side, beefcake. Because you're my favorite. I might have changed since my capture, and I'm no longer able to resist the orders," started Tiberius, stretching his arms and extending them back until he grabbed the Demon's cock he began to stroke. Somehow, his scales had the quality of paw pads around his palms.

“Absurd," groaned and moaned Raum as he felt the “paws" stroking his cock, squeezing it… And firmly holding it. “A mortal doing this for me… Impossible."

But as he looked down at the Dragon, it was to notice that same mischievous grin.

“You are serious… C-Tiberius."

“Indeed!" chuckled the Dragon, his fingers going over the cockhead. “The others and above, they all want you dead. If you leave, they'll finish the ritual, and you'll be stuck on either side."

“What about their mages?" asked Raum. “The one you were about to sacrifice?"

“Sacrifices for that knowledge," sighed Tiberius as he turned and twisted, kicked the drink and glass away as he approached his muzzle to the Demon's cock, giving it a lick.

“It doesn't make sense; why would they cut the Abyss and do… This to me?"

“Because… They can still capture another demon. And leave you cursed. They have it all prepared if you refuse to work with me. It's all twist and manipulation with them, Beefcake. Even having them agree not to kill you and to use you as a test subject was tedious!"

Raum watched Tiberius stroke his cock… Slowly, he tried to put the puzzle back together. It was all so convoluted, so complex, for no reason. This world, this place… That was why he hated mortals, always trying to be so cunning.

“It was you who proposed to… Use me like this."

At that affirmation, Tiberius stopped and looked up. He grinned as he gave Raum's testes a knee and used them as support. He stood up, slowly… With his cock erect. One in the likes of Raum, flat-tipped with a bright red color and low-hanging nuts. They were… Almost as similar as the Demon's.

“That's right. I remember our moments together, with me sleeping with you… or in you. They want a Demon around to reinforce their soldiers. I offered to take you instead so we could be together. Unless you don't want to."

Raum heaved. He knew what Tiberius was saying. He had never thought of it. Yes, he missed the Cat's quips and cocky attitude. He missed watching him flaunt that ass or mess with him. He missed… Tiberius.

“What will happen?" Raum asked, huffing as he observed Tiberius starting to pace left and right.

“I don't know. If you leave now, you'll be killed and someone else will take your place. If you finish it but leave, you'll be alone in the Abyss."

“You want me to stay."

It was the truth, though the Dragon stood still. His cock was hard like steel, dripping with fluids while it pointed towards Raum's cock. The Demon's testes were cold, heavy… They were barely his anymore. They weren't regenerating like his health, and he assumed it was partly due to the tattoo. He closed his eyes… And then. He pushed his finger down against his shaft to align it with the Dragon's.

“Do it, Tiberius."

He heard the shuffle, as Tiberius approached and then. There was the now-familiar sensation of that cock slipping within the urethra. Still a cold and strange cock, but one Raum supported as he opened his eyes and saw the Dragon smiling back at him.

“You love me, too. Then?" Tiberius asked.

“… Maybe."

Though… Raum's heart beat faster when he said it. Notwithstanding the Dragon now hammering his cock's insides. Precum poured, filling his prostate and descending, yet Raum stood still as he felt the coldness spread. He heaved though, as the sensation was… Tantalizing. Enthralling. Shameful. Worse was the Dragon's smile as he humped his urethra, his groin meeting Raum's flattened cocktip in a concerto of wet slaps. Even the testicles smacked the Demon's massive rod in a deafening shock.

Raum avoided that smile.

He tried to look away, to look afar. But whenever he did so, it was to hear a chuckle, a groan, or a sound coming from that former Cat's mouth. He… Had to check up on Tiberius.

He watched those golden eyes with slitted irises dilating. Those “pads" pressing his cock. The feet pushing against the ground. And then… Then, there were the contractions.

Contractions echoed by Raum's pleasure as he reclined, even laid down as he sensed the icy embrace swallow his testes.

[I]16/100

13/100

9/100

[/I]He watched the numbers on the screen drop and the disappearance of the red color in the bar with a mix of apprehension and fear… And… He looked at Tiberius, the tiny Dragon that seemed about to explode.

“What… Will you do with me?"

“Does… it matter now? Beefcake?" asked Tiberius, groaning and clenching his jaw.

“No," groaned Raum agreeing.

“I'm… Cu-mming!"

He threw his head back and planted his horns within the tent as he trembled. He trembled and quivered, although he wasn't cumming. Tiberius was.

A climax Raum felt as he opened his eyes. Cum poured… Thick, sticky, cold compared to his body. It swarmed in, flooded in… Invaded his inner organs once more as his fiery gaze was on his health bar.

[I]3/100

2/100

1/100

[/I]Raum held his breath as he felt it. The last warmth, the flame within, snuffed out. No lukewarm, nothing… it was plain cold. Plain dull. The churning within was there, but the sensation was so different and… Altered. He gasped, he trembled, he quivered as more Draconic semen poured and swelled his nuts until they ached.

And he looked at the screen, trembling and shaking.

[I]Conquered

[/I]He watched this… And then Tiberius, who had given them the final blow. And he swallowed his pride and ego.

---

Tiberius sighed as he left the battlefield, doffing his helmet and armor. It had been a long rough battle. One of the last bastions of mankind had been taken today. And no one could say it wasn't thanks to his prowess. But as he ascended the hill of that new provisory camp, he already braced himself for those who would hound him.

“Sir! Can you approve my proposal to improve our conversion process?" asked one of the Mages, an old converted.

“Refused. It must stay the same," groaned Tiberius, throwing the helmet at him.

“But… We could improve the yield by a hundred! If you let me-“

“I said refused. Now. Get back to your duty. We have a big batch to convert. And they'll need your presence, even you."

“I-… Yes, Sir."

With that, the Mage started to run downhill with the Helmet in hands. Until the old converted noticed he was holding a General's gear and ran uphill but in a different direction. What a dimwit.

Tiberius looked at him and rolled his eyes as he continued to strip while hearing the fanfare and the soldiers' cries of joy. The celebration of their victory would start soon, but he had something better to do.

Something he was eager to appreciate as most of his armor had been removed. Remained then his jacket and pants he left at the entrance of the most massive tent within the camp. By pushing the flap, Tiberius' nose was assaulted by the raw musk of men. Draconic or not, the scent was so intense it wronged the new mages working on the conversion process.

Tiberius? He filled his nose and lungs with it, passed by the threshold, and was welcomed by the utter night.

However, even then, he could see the eerie glow of the Demon before him. The red light that magma-blood gave off from beneath the flesh. Merely by noticing it, Tiberius felt his hardening cock. His body had changed, and he no longer had the same control over his pulsions as before. His body was of needs and desires. But... he didn't push back against it while he approached and glanced to the right, hearing the low pitter-patter. There was no eerie glow, only the steam… He tempted a finger then and found his index plunged in a pool of warm cum. One he collected before licking it: the same… Delicious taste he had grown to love and desire. He would have purred in satisfaction if he could.

Instead, he was rockhard and even spewed more precum. He approached Raum, his fingers gracing the leathery skin and dancing over those muscles. Fat had started to accumulate here and there, at strategic spots. But Raum remained similarly the same.

“How's my favorite Bull? We won the fight… Only a few more hours and we'll be back in my tent," he said with a slight chuckle, his hands going over the steel contraptions holding the Demon down. Security. A necessity, said the other Generals… Albeit, Tiberius knew they were wrong.

He knelt behind the Demon. With the steel biting his limbs, Raum remained forced to bend over while his cock was kept pointed to the pool of semen that would be channeled into the camp for the conversion. Same for the bucket beneath that ruined ass. Without a thought, Tiberius emptied the cum bucket with his hands while he plunged his muzzle against that wonderful donuthole… He savored the musky and demonic Aroma Raum's body gave off… And he savored the contractions as he started to massage the Demon's nuts… So big, walking with them was impossible at the moment. And the tattoos on it? They were glowing like a second sun.

“Hrmphhh. Tiberius. Finally. Those mages are… Puny and worthless," said Raum with his natural gruff attitude. His tail, attached like the rest, still swayed as he spoke while Tiberius licked his ass clean.

But soon, the General pointed his hard cock against the Demon's ass, his length slipping inside without a second only to nuzzle against Raum's delicious and swollen prostate.

“I know. Don't worry… I'll milk you, mon amour."

Milk him… milk his bull of all that Draconic seed he could produce. And use it to spawn a stronger army that would conquer the realms and ensure their masters's dominion. A perfect future. As long as he had his lovely Raum.