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It was late on a Saturday night when Joseph stumbled out of the club, as drunk as he's been in his life. To his exhausted, inebriated mind, home isn't far; he walked here, after all. So with very little thought on the matter, the silver-furred wolf sets out for home, and before long not only hopelessly loses his way- but convinces himself to cut through a dark alley. Normally, he'd wake up there with a splitting headache, unharmed- it's a rich part of a nice town, crime is near zero- but tonight, Joseph is unlucky.

As with every bad shortcut, the alley is a dead end. Unlike some, there is a door in the wall, slightly ajar- and the wolf's rapidly fading brain gladly decides this is part of the shortcut. The interior is a dimly candlelit room, a carpeted staircase leading downward- the type of scene that even Joseph, after a long delay processing it, can pin down as suspicious. Reconsidering already, the wolf turns for the door- to find smooth brick, offering no hope of escape. The only exit seems to be the stairs behind him- but those go down. The thought, "Ah, fuck it," flickers through Joseph's mind, the wolf bracing himself against the wall as he drunkenly stumbles.. Downward.

Bad luck, poor choices, and far too much alcohol led him to this point, and the result isn't much better than anyone would expect. At the base of the stairs is a similarly lit apartment- one floor, but with some noticable differences- larger doorways, strange looking door handles, much of the furniture closer to floor level. Joseph is in a living room- and as the home's owner walks into view, it all makes a bit more sense. Padding through a doorway to Joseph's left comes a mix of terror and attraction perched on four muscular legs, a slim quadrupedal drake clad in black scales and bearing blood red markings that shift in the candlelight. The temptation to check gender is there, but the wolf doesn't need to look- the newcomer's scent is male, strongly so.

Predictably, Joseph freezes- sky blue eyes wide with fear, even as he can't help but sway slightly in place. As he stands there, the black drake approaches with an eyeridge raised, questioning, "Who are you, wolf?" to which Joseph loses his answer to stuttering and drunken mumbling. His 'host' does not seem pleased, frowning somewhat- before smiling cruelly. "Ah, you're drunk. Let me help you with that, doggie~" he hisses. Before the canine can question him, the dragon is whispering harsh words, ones that make Joseph's stomach turn and his skin crawl- though perhaps the prior is just the dragon himself.

There's a brief silence after those words end, the dragon's gem-faceted violet eyes fixed on the wolf- glimmering with what just might be amusement. Joseph would come to understand a few moments later, as a hot burning sensation started around his kidneys and rapidly spread through his entire body. With a sharp yelp, he falls to the ground and tries to clutch his.. Everything. It's all on fire, even spreading to burn inside his sheath. The wolf barely even notices the alcohol slowly receding from his mind, too busy being convinced he's about to die- but finally, the pain stops, and he finds his head clear. A quiet whimper of confusion sounds from him as the drake speaks once more. "Let's try that again, pup. I'm Jarokk- owner of this apartment and everything in it. Who are you?"

As the burning subsides, the unpleasant sensation lingering around his privates far more than he'd like, Joseph uncurls a bit and raises his head to regard the dragon, stumbling over his words. "I- A-ah!" Just as he starts to introduce himself, the wolf finds a new problem in this unpleasant situation. Absolutely ignoring his say in the matter, his bladder has decided to empty itself- his pants, fur, and the carpet beneath him quickly becoming soaked in strong-smelling wolf urine. "I'm sorry, I can't stop it!" he whines quickly. Jarokk, in his normal pattern, seems condescendingly amused even by this development, purring, "You'll repay me- and you've lost your privelage to a name. You will be 'Mutt' to me. A stupid dog, stumbling into my house drunk, pissing on my carpet.. You owe me quite a bit by now."

Initially, Joseph can only whimper- humiliation, the lingering pain of whatever strange magic had purged his system, fear as he realizes just how dire his situation is- but eventually, the wolf forces out, "I'll pay you back. I have money." Unfortunately for him, this goes over as a joke to the quadruped now slowly approaching him, drawing a cutting chuckle. "Oh," Jarokk replies with a grin, "I'm not speaking of money. I have that. My compensation will come from your hide, Mutt... So to speak." As the dragon reaches Joseph, he begins circling- tail trailing along the wolf's back before he growls, "Strip, or I'll damage your clothes- and you."

It's a sudden, blunt, and rather harsh change of tone. The wolf hesitates, of course- but as he feels a sharp claw come to rest against the collar of his shirt, Joseph swallows and quickly starts tugging at his pants; even if he's terrified and uncomfortable with the situation, he already had planned to get out of the piss-soaked clothes as soon as possible. His shirt comes next, as the dragon backs off to watch- once the garments are shed into a pile, Jarokk nudges them aside with clear disadain. Each time those scales brush against his fur, Joseph can't help but pray Jarokk doesn't want to fuck him- he sighs in relief as the dragon takes a seat on his haunches, points to his slit, and growls, "Use your muzzle, Mutt. Make it up to me."

This is something Joseph can wrap his head around- however literally. The wolf's intentions at the club definitely weren't pure, and he's handled dragons before- not quadrupeds, not someone Jarokk's size, but how different could it be? Still, he lets out a soft whine to remind Jarokk this isn't exactly consensual, even as he crawls forward a bit and braces his paws against the cool belly scales of the black dragon. Again, a brief hesitation- this time it draws a growl of, "Hurry up," from Jarokk, a command he's reluctant to disobey.

Grudgingly, the wolf hating that the situation came up like -this-, that broad canine tongue slips out to glide in a practiced motion up along the slit and small ridge of flesh between Jarokk's legs. A glance up reveals the dragon looking unimpressed, so Joseph puts a bit more pressure into it- hearing Jarokk's tail flick across the ground, he soon picks up that he'll have to be a bit firm with his ministrations, dragging his tongue firmly over the dragon's nether regions and pressing his wet canine nose into that slit on the way back down.

This line of pleasuring is soon rewarded twofold- a growl of, "Good dog," from Jarokk, bringing a frown to his muzzle even as he knows better than to argue, and the dark red tip of a firm draconic endowment, menacing and spade-shaped, sporting a patch of barbs along the underside. Joseph isn't sure whether to blush or wince- he ends up doing both in that order, as the barbs prove a bit uncomfortable on his tongue when he shifts to attending Jarokk's emerging shaft. The wolf isn't so foolish as to ignore another growl, of course- the last thing he wants is Jarokk 'taking charge' and injuring him with this dangerous breeding tool.

The wolf discovers, as his oral attention continues, that Jarokk's tip is possibly the least menacing part of his maleness. As more of the shaft emerges, Joseph finds himself occasionally pricking his tongue on more sharp barbs, coating the underside of the dragon's many horizontal ridges- serving to accentuate the rapid taper of that length into a girthy, permanently engorged knot at the base. When the knot in question finally emerges fully with a lewd and telltale 'pop', revealing another ring of barbs that would certainly ensure noone could endure escaping before Jarokk was done with them, the wolf finds his ears grabbed roughly to hold him in place. There's barely time to question it before the reason becomes clear, Joseph starting to cough and choke as hot, bitter tasting fluid is pumped into his mouth, running across the back of his tongue and trying to run down his throat.

The dragon was pissing in him and he couldn't wiggle his way free! To make matters worse, with his nose buried in Jarokk's slit anything that flowed back down the shaft would pool around his nose. To his great shame, Joseph finds himself guzzling piss even as the taste makes him want to puke, muzzle burning in humiliation, tears slipping into his eyes as the stream shows no sign of stopping for what feels like several minutes- and actually is. By the time Jarokk's immense bladder has been emptied completely, the wolf is left with a painfully swollen stomach, tears running down his face as he thoroughly regrets every bad decison that brought him here.

The wolf dares to hope the worst is over, as Jarokk yanks his shaft free of his aching muzzle, letting a single sob loose as he watches strings of his saliva trail into oblivion. His hope strengthens, as Jarokk walks past him, out of view- only to be remorselessly crushed by a considerable weight over his back, pushing down on him. "Now lift your tail or I'll cut it off." A simple, terrifying instruction, hissed matter-of-factly into his ear. Reflexively, his tail is tucked between his legs- but as that weight shifts, the threat becomes more prominent- he forces his tail up, exposing his rear to the dragon's dangerous member. Still, he chokes out, "Please, don't, you'll kill me!" as he feels the point of that spade-shaped tip against his tailhole, firm and backed up by the power of the draconic hips behind it.

Joseph can't see the cruelty in Jarokk's smirking visage as the dragon pushes forward- then pulls back slowly at the words, as if reconsidering. The drake can feel every muscle movement of the canine's body as hope returns, Joseph daring to think one sobbed plea would actually get through to this sadistic rapist of a dragon. Of course, Jarokk crushes down that hope again. The drake's length is rammed into him carelessly, and Joseph can't hold back another sob of pure agony as he feels several places inside tearing from the sudden, forceful, and oversized penetration. Worse yet, his bladder is still full even after his 'accident' earlier, Jarokk's piss filtering straight through him- and again, he loses control of it, this time to pain.

The dragon on top of Joseph, by contrast, seems to be wrapped in ecstasy. His thrusts don't stop after the initial penetration, the rapid shoving and tearing yanking his unwilling partner back and forth by the tender flesh of his tailhole. Joseph is left tearing at the carpet, spraying piss with every tiny shift of the dragon's massive cock, sobbing desperately as he feels his insides forcibly mixed around by the endowment. Jarokk is not new to this- he has quite a bit of sexual endurance, and quite a bit of excitement stored up for an opportunity such as this.

Even as the dragon mutters a spell, Joseph finds it the opposite of mercy- that burning sensation returns along the tracks damaged by Jarokk's dangerously barbed shaft, some kind of unholy regeneration. The wolf notices an unfortunate secondary effect moments later- the burning in his sheath has returned, blood being forced into his cock even in the total absence of pleasure or arousal. Catching sight of it as one of the dragon's thrusts pushes him particularly far forward, red and bobbing, clear even through tear-blurred eyes- something breaks inside Joseph, the wolf's loud sobs and whimpers reduced to a quiet, traumatized sniffling as he hides his face against the carpet and just.. Takes it.

The dragon was in complete control of everything, even his body, and that wasn't something the recently-sober, pain-addled, and terrified wolf's brain was ready to process. Joseph would never know if the dragon finished inside him, because at that point- his world went black. The pain disappeared as the wolf tumbled into a dreamless sleep...

--

Only to wake up sometime around noon, naked, in the alleyway behind his apartment building. His head is resting on his piss-stained clothes, bunched up in a makeshift pillow. Before even realizing he should be embarassed, his hands move to the underside of his tail- finding no damage, no stickiness, no real evidence he'd even been touched there aside from a faint soreness. Then his nakedness dawns on him, and he quickly decides that pissed-in clothes are better than none- at least for the purposes of getting inside.

After getting dressed and practically sprinting for his own apartment- luckily encountering noone else on the way- the wolf locks himself inside, strips down, and goes to inspect himself in the mirror, frantically looking for some evidence of what happened last night- it seemed so real! He almost makes it through his inspection satisfied it was just a dream, that there must have been something dropped in his drink- but he catches a glimpse of red on the underside of his tail, right as he turns back around. A hint of dread seeping into his chest, he raises it. Sure enough, either to taunt him or to mark him as property- there's a patch of blood-red fur beneath his tail, seeming almost like a natural part of his patterning aside from the color and- most unusually- the alien, but runic shape of the mark. Swallowing, Joseph takes a seat on his bed, looks to the floor, and prays to every god or goddess he can think of that Jarokk doesn't come back for him.