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Rubicundus' Promotion

Rubicundus was stirred from his sleep by a sudden, shocking surge of pain. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs of the night, his tired mind quickly put together the pertinent facts. One: The pain had come from his collar. Two: It had been far stronger than the vague, tickling shock that normally served as the Mistress' summons. First conclusion: He must have slept through the first shock, necessitating the use of the stronger, more punishing shock that the collar was capable of delivering. He winced automatically, even as his brain gradually spun up to full speed. The Mistress would have waited a significant while before deciding that he wasn't going to show. She would not be happy with his tardiness.

A second, equally-powerful electric shock coursed through his neck, making his jaw snap shut just as he begun opening it to yawn, and his fears redoubled. Apparently, he hadn't slept through one shock, but_two..._ so now he got the same signal with far more emphasis. This also meant that the Mistress likely had waited even longer for him to arrive - and that she still would be waiting for a bit, as he made the necessary preparations. He felt a strong desire to shrink himself to something like the size of a mouse, and then perhaps hide from the Mistress' understandable displeasure... but no, he couldn't hide from his own laziness - all he could do was get to her door as quickly as possible, and prepare himself for whatever punishment she might mete out as suitable penalty for this delay.

Pushing himself off his bed of gold, he quickly moved to his 'toilet' - a hole connected directly to the castle's sewers, covered with a magical barrier that prevented any unpleasant scents from getting through - and expedited his morning ablutions. His instincts told him that it was still early - a little past sunrise, perhaps, nothing more. The Seraglio would still, by and large, be asleep. And he had been up rather late last night - Slira had begged his attention in the evening, and when he finally finished satisfying her, he was intercepted by Thielwen basically as soon as he exited the Sirrush Consort's chambers. Of course, by the Mistress' standing orders, he could not refuse such a plea for satisfaction either...

He wasn't even going to try to use that as an excuse for his tardiness, though, he thought with a shudder as he used a simple hygiene-spell to clean himself off after his visit to the toilet, and stepped quickly towards the next part of his preparations. It was hovering in midair, over a 'stand' of enchanted electrum. And while it was in easy view for any casual visitor to his den, most would not guess its purpose - at a glance, it resembled some kind of scepter or religious icon, like a hierophant's rod of office or something. A long, thin electrum rod, one half of it smooth, the other bumpy like a series of melted-together ball-bearings. The smooth portion, meanwhile, had five sets of two thin half-circles attached to its length, at regular intervals, each forming a soft 'w' shape.

Of course, it was far from being merely decorative - and there was a lot of magic in it. The Mistress, he knew, had commissioned it from Aterxeus, the same Black Dragon who had crafted his collar, basing it on a far more primitive, man-made apparatus of similar purpose, which had been enchanted by Korlin the Kirin. Compared to that one, though, this one was far more... advanced, and along with the stand that kept it suspended in midair, this enabled him to use it on himself. Two shocks in rapid succession was the signal to do exactly that before he presented himself to the Mistress.

He stepped over the stand at his full size, approaching from the knobbly end, and tried to steady his breathing. His cock was already rock-hard and all the way out of its sheath - which had only served to complicate his morning piss - just from the knowledge that he was about to enter the Mistress' presence again... be she ever so displeased about his lateness. Now, he carefully aligned it with the floating rod, and began to walk forwards, wincing as the cool metal touched his sensitive tip... and more, as his movements pushed the first 'pearl' into his urethra. The metal was supernaturally slick and smooth, to the point of being frictionless - making any use of lubrication unnecessary. But he could feel every inch of the cold metal as he steadily pushed forwards, breathing in shallow bursts, his urethra stretching and opening around it. Despite the rippling surface, it wasn't really painful - not yet. Just a strange, intrusive feeling.

Finally, he felt the last of the bulges disappear inside his cock, followed by straight, smooth metal. Stopping where he stood, he took a deep breath and began to shrink his body. The rod lowered itself as his legs grew shorter, but otherwise remained unchanging - growing steadily larger in relation to his body, pushing deeper even as it stretched his urethra open. The 'pearls' were coming into their own now, giving him an exquisite awareness of exactly how long, thick and hard the rod was, beyond what a simple, smooth bar could've done. Still he kept shrinking, even as the discomfort grew into a pain he knew would fade after some time - and felt the lowest of the pearls reach the very base of his cock, pushing against the point where his urethra split and curved up towards his bladder, and down towards his balls.

Finally, the passive enchantment placed on the rod sensed enough pressure, and activated. Right in front of the tip of his cock, the smooth part of the rod split into four thinner pieces and curved back, surrounding his hard shaft in a cage of solid, unyielding metal. He felt the bars layer themselves tightly against his shaft on all four sides - then, a moment later, the five rings snapped shut, tightening around his shaft as they joined seamlessly with the lengthwise bars. He shakily breathed out. It was fully attached, now - a harsh cage for his over-eager tool, digging into his flesh inside and outside, compensating for the discipline he lacked. It would remain in place for as long as the Mistress decreed, for only Her touch and Her words could open it again.

He felt his cock throb against the restraints as he walked rapidly up the spiraling passage from his den to the gardens above. That futile struggle, like the dull stretching-pains in his urethra, would soon fade... well, depending on what, exactly, the Mistress was planning to do to him, whether as punishment for being late or as part of Her original plans. Reaching the entrance of his cave, he first stuck his head out and looked carefully around. The garden was empty and deserted, gleaming with dew in the spring sunlight. Taking another deep breath, he ran across it towards the Mistress' door, hoping that none of the Consorts happened to be admiring the same view through their windows at this particular moment, shrinking as he went. Fortunately, none of them were the 'early riser' type, as far as he'd noticed.

He winced anew as he came to a halt in front of Her door. The cock-cage was connected to his collar, and resized with it - which meant it resized with him, when the collar wasn't being directly control by the attached leash in Her hand. But there was always a slight delay - ensuring that while he was in the process of shrinking, the pearl-rod in his urethra would be just a touch larger, and while he was growing, the rings and bars of the outer cage would be just a touch tighter. He'd gone down to the size of a small dog, this time - hoping to, perhaps, ease the Mistress' displeasure somewhat with an immediate show of contrition, and Her door loomed appropriately over him.

Sitting down in an appropriately canine fashion - something he had long-since mastered - he scratched at the door. Obviously, it was heavily reinforced with multi-layered magical enchantments - if he'd been at his full size and really put his back into it, he might have been able to leave some actual marks in the dark hardwood, but short of that, the most he could do was to inform his Mistress that he had arrived. The door swung silently open and, heart beating quickly, he walked inside. As the door slammed shut behind him, he gazed up at Her, as she sat before him clad in the raiments of Her unquestionable authority.

The lingering ache in his imprisoned cock, the feeling of the collar tight on his throat, the ghosts of the painful shocks it had awakened him with, and the singing anxiety of contemplating what punishment might await him all melted away. She sat like the Goddess she was, clad in merciless black, paddle in hand, gazing down at him as he grovelled before her, and as happened every time he was allowed to enter Her presence, he marveled at the mercy and generosity She showed by even allowing his unworthy self to lick her feet.

"You are late,dog. VERY late." Her voice hit him like a shower of razor-sharp icicles, and he shivered beneath it, lowering his eyes from Her glorious visage. "I have no excuses. I can only beg your forgiveness, Mistress." He managed to keep his voice mostly steady as he replied. Then he waited, eyes downcast, for Her judgment. She sighed, and he felt himself shrink under the weight of her disappointment. "The reason I called on you so early in the day, my misbehaving little puppy, is that today is supposed to be your final exam - for your ascension to the rank of Concubine."

He felt himself stiffen. He had worked hard towards that honor, braving tests, challenges and exercises, eager for Her acknowledgment. Most of them had been... less than pleasant, but more than worth it just for the kind word and pat on the head she rewarded his good conduct with. Had he wasted it all, blown his chance, just by sleeping in?! No, no, he wouldn't allow himself to despair. He knew Her glorious voice well, he heard it in his dreams, and longed to hear it in every waking hour. He knew what she sounded like when she was truly angry, and when she was willing to... show mercy. The statement had been harsh, but there had been a touch of softness in it.

And so, he waited, head lowered, not speaking, until she sighed again. "I have half a mind to call it off and begin your training anew after such a disappointment... but, I have already gone to the trouble of setting things up, so I suppose I might as well let it go ahead." Heart soaring, he allowed his eyes to lift just a bit, to see her foot - perfect skin visible through the sheer black stocking - dangle before him. That was a tacit invitation, and he eagerly accepted it, crawling across the floor on his belly, feeling his metallic cock-cage scratch across the hardwood. He hungrily began to lick the proffered foot, tasting the faint, salty tinge of fresh sweat, soaking through the thin fabric.

It was the third-most wondrous flavor he knew of - Her sweat, Her skin, Her body, even filtered through the sheer stockings. Second was the dark, secretive taste of Her ass, and first was the paradisaical sweetness of Her pussy. Sometimes, he dreamed of what Her lips, Her tongue, Her mouth might taste like - but he knew well that he would not soon find out. The Mistress' Kiss was the highest of privileges, reserved only for true Consorts, and he, meanwhile, could not even manage to arrive in time for his Concubine's Examination.

He eagerly continued to lick Her foot while She talked. "Mind, you have wasted much time, and your punishment will take more still, so there will be none left to explain the details of the Examination to you... you'll just have to cope and adapt as best you can!" Suddenly, the foot - which he was still only half-done washing with his tongue - lashed sideways, delivering a kick to his head that was more symbolical than anything else, thanks to his armored scales. Nonetheless, he cringed from it and Her sharp voice as she rose from her throne. "That also means no time for your little amusements, dog! Now, assume the position!"

He did so with an immediacy that came from long training - straightening and spreading his hind-legs, while keeping his chest and head on the ground, and curling his tail back along his spine. In doing so, he fully exposed his ass and balls, while giving a fine view of his caged cock, dangling between his legs. Already bracing himself for the sound of the paddle striking his scales, he was surprised when the Mistress instead bent over him with a coil of white rope and an unpleasant smile. His leash was in Her hand, and he felt his collar - and the pearls filling his cock to capacity - suddenly grow. He rapidly grew with it, ignoring the bite of the cock-cage clamping down on his shaft, until he was roughly pony-sized. Only then did She stop the growth, and pull a length of the rope out.

He stoically maintained the pose while She ran the rope around him, moving limbs in accordance with Her barked commands, until his body was thoroughly enchained, his tail tied down to his back, his legs fastened in place, his forelegs pulled back along the floor to leave him resting squarely on his chest and neck. She grinned down at him, then, with one shapely eyebrow raised. "As you have no doubt noticed, this is perfectly ordinary, unenchanted rope. Fine silk, though, and I value it greatly. However, I am confident that such a _disciplined_dog as you won't do it any damage..."

He swallowed. At his current size, the beautiful, white rope was little more than a sewing-thread to him, and it was wound rather tightly around him. He could conceivably snap it just by flexing his muscles in the right way, without even moving. And now the paddle fell, sending a shock of pain through his ballsack despite the armored scales that covered it. He drew in a deep breath and focused, even as the paddle struck repeatedly at the thin scales surrounding his tailhole, and indeed at that tiny gap in his scaly defenses itself. He was_disciplined. SHE had _taught him discipline. This was nothing. This was his Mistress' caress, Her hand reaching out to touch him. Breathing in and out steadily, he felt a warmth build in his chest, like a shadow of the numbing pain that radiated out from his battered testicles to fill his entire abdomen.

He felt his cock jump, the muscles that rendered it prehensile acting seemingly on their own, and the beating paused. He heard Her chuckle behind him. "My, you seem to actually be enjoying this... we can't have that. This is supposed to be a punishment, after all..." Then he felt one silk-clad finger touch his shaft, and a surge of desire coursed through him just from that, pushing back the pain. His cock surged and throbbed as that finger moved across it, and he couldn't restrain a hiss as he felt a growing pressure in his loins. He was cumming, just from that simple touch... or would have, were it not for the cock-cage. Instead, there just was a sense of mounting pressure, a push against the bottom of the string of pearls that made the five rings dig more sharply into his shaft.

Then Her finger found the metal of that cage, and she spoke with crystal-clear enunciation: "Bad dog." He couldn't help but whine as the cage began to move - or rather, its core did. The 'pearls' of the bumpy rod filling his urethra were moving now, steadily downwards, accelerating bit by bit. Well, they weren't really moving, of course. Rather, the enchanted electrum was reshaping itself, giving the impression that the individual 'pearls' that made up its knobbly surface were moving downwards, disappearing into nothing at the very bottom, and then reappearing right at the tip, stretching the entrance of his urethra before heading downwards again. He knew from experience that they wouldn't keep doing the same thing for long, either - the direction and speed of the movement varied randomly and constantly, making it impossible to get used to the sensation. It was simultaneously painful and dangerously stimulating.

Then the paddling continued, and now each blow that fell on his crotch had an extra sting thanks to the internal pressure of the unreleased cumload, while maintaining his disciplined breathing was made far harder by the frequently-changing sensation in his cock. He could feel his legs and tail vibrate with restrained energy, restrained urges, restrained instincts. If he let them, they would tear the fragile rope that bound him to shreds. But he refused to do so. Fortunately, in her mercy, the Mistress seemed to be focusing the paddle more on his well-armored buttocks (and somewhat less well-armored tailhole), rather than his more sensitive gonads. That helped significantly, and in the end, he managed to maintain his pose unbroken until the last paddle-blow had fallen. A second later, he felt her finger brush over the sensitive tissue of his shaft again, as she touched the metallic cage that surrounded it and whispered 'Play dead.' The constantly-shifting motion of the enchanted device immediately halted, leaving his whole dick tingling in its wake.

As such, he was still breathing heavily a handful of seconds later, when an unfamiliar sensation assailed him. A soft, moist touch on his sphincter, tender and throbbing after the beating it had just borne the brunt of. The touch grew firmer, pushing inside, and it slowly dawned on him what it had to be - a slender, silk-clad finger, lubricated with spit. Her spit. Her finger. The fresh, lingering pain in the region only served to magnify the sensation as it pushed all the way inside and then wiggled around. Like with the rod in his urethra, it was an odd sensation of... intrusion, but this was not some bar of cold metal. It was warm flesh - Her flesh. She was touching him there, moving her finger around, tickling him...

The completely unexpected touch, generating a type of stimulation, a sort of sensation, he'd never experienced before... the sound of Her chuckle as she twisted her finger... it was all too much. His balls, despite the battering they'd just taken, surged and pumped in yet another hopeless attempt to cum. He whimpered at the by-now familiar sensation of the denied orgasm, and at the way his testicles' tender condition magnified the sense of unreleased pressure - but at the same time, he soared at the realization that She had given him an all-new sort of pleasure, a gift beyond compare! Surely, that meant that he was forgiven, the punishment complete...

He heard Her chuckle again, and felt the stimulating digit being withdrawn - and then rubbed back and forth along the thin, fine scales near the hole, being wiped off. When She walked back around his still-bound form, there was an amused smile on Her lips. "It looked like you enjoyed that too, little puppy... what a surprise." He cleared his throat, and opened his mouth carefully - the rope wound around the base of his muzzle, too, so if he opened his maw too far or too quickly, he might break it still. "Your touch could never be but the greatest pleasure to me, Mistress." He declared, meaning every word.

She laughed, amused by his flattery, and took Her seat once more, setting the well-worn paddle aside. Then she nodded sharply. "Well, you have endured your punishment well enough, so I suppose I must forgive you your momentary lapse. Regardless, we are out of time. Your teacher has already arrived, I believe..." Her first words filled him with a light, floating sensation of utter happiness - but the last sentence threw confusion and a dawning fear on top of that. Teacher? Who could She mean? Only Korlin the Kirin and Aterxeus the Black Dragon knew of his secret... and Korlin had always kept a deliberate distance, seemingly making a deliberate choice to stay uninvolved in his relationship with the Mistress, something he could only be grateful for. Had she invited Aterxeus here? Would he walk through the door and see him in such a compromising position?

That, as it turned out, was not the case. Instead, the door opened by the Mistress' command, and an entirely different, unexpected individual stepped inside. Silas the Faun's cloven-hoofed legs sounded very loud on the hardwood floor as he walked in, the door closing silently behind him. Rubicundus goggled - unable to even turn his head to get a good look, due to the ropes binding him. From what he could see, however, the Faun looked entirely unsurprised by the sight that met him... the Mistress had to have informed him ahead of time!

He quickly returned his eyes to Her radiant face as she gestured towards the Faun with a smile. "You know Silas, I'm sure... he's the only other Concubine in my Seraglio at the moment. He will... show you the ropes, as it were. If you wish to advance to his rank, you will need to gain his approval." Silas, for his part, barely glanced at his tied-down and exposed form - instead, he just marched up next to him, and bowed politely. "Happy to be of assistance, m'lady." The Mistress nodded, slouching a bit in her chair, resting her elbow on one of the armrests and her head, slightly cocked, on the hand. There was a light, mischievous smile on her face, which Rubicundus had learned to fear.

"So, tell me, Silas - and tell your student, here - what is the most important thing for a Concubine?" The Faun instantly replied to the question with a quick head-bob. "Well, 's obviously the willingness and ability to pleasure any member of the Harem who requires or requests it. For a simple Concubine to fail to pleasure a higher-ranking Consort would be a great shame indeed!" The Mistress nodded, and turned Her eyes on him, making him shiver slightly just from the brush of Her attention. "You understand that, I'm sure... as a dog, you are mine alone, but as a Concubine, you belong to the whole of the Harem, and must be able to pleasure any member thereof suitably. That is why I have had you train and practice for so long, pleasing the other women of the Seraglio whenever they require it."

Her smile became warmer, and She nodded, head still resting lazily on Her hand. "You have done a passingly good job of it, too. I have heard no mention of you failing to satisfy any of your partners since you first arrived here. For that, you deserve praise." It was almost harder to remain still now, to keep the silken ropes intact, than it had been during the paddling. A shudder of exquisite pleasure was running through him. All the hard work he had done, over the past several months - pleasuring that insatiable Thielwen and the size-obsessed Slira - had been worth it and more than worth it, just to hear those words.

However, no sooner were they spoken than her expression shifted into a far more sardonic one, and she sighed. "Alas, it seems a certain portion of the necessary training has been neglected until now. No blame on _you_for that, little puppy - but nonetheless, it must be rectified." She shifted her eyes back to Silas, and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Tell me, my Concubine... have any of the _males_of the Seraglio ever requested your services?" Rubicundus could feel his eyes widening as the Faun nodded without hesitation, leaning his head sideways in a thoughtful manner. "Oh, sure, now and then. Both Achidias and Orichaniel have called on me, on occasion."

"Indeed?" She asked, gesturing for Silas to continue. He did so, rubbing his well-kept beard as he talked. "Aye, aye... Achidias only once, mind. From what I gathered, he'd gotten a letter from an old friend who'd emigrated to the Southern Continent a while back. A friend he was real close with, back when he was younger, if you catch my drift, ha-ha..." The Faun shrugged, then, with a half-smile. "Well, you know what it's like for Centaurs - that kooky creator of theirs laid down the law in a big way. Didn't want the stallions amusing each other and losing their motivation to raid and rape, I guess. But most of 'em wind up trying it anyway, at least once, while they're young and desperate. And I guess Achidias still has fond memories of that friend of his, regardless of what came of their relationship - or rather, didn't come of it!"

The Mistress nodded attentively. "Ah, so the letter made him... nostalgic for old sensations, then?" Silas half-nodded, half-shrugged in reply. "Best as I can tell, yep. He also said that he wanted to find out if the 'curse' old Thenares laid down on his people applied to ANY male-on-male activity, or only stallion-on-stallion, y'know?" He scratched his chin, then, and smiled roguishly. "Well, we got THAT sorted out, right enough. It only applies to other Centaurs! Prob'ly lucky for the male population of the old border-states that nobody figured that out 'till now." The Mistress smiled sarcastically. "Lucky for them, less lucky for the local women. Regardless, he did not leave unsatisfied, then?" The Faun grinned. "Not at all. Though, admittedly, he did comment that he still preferred ladies, since so many of them were available anyway, these days."

The Mistress waved her free hand dismissively. "Well, that is hardly your_fault. And Orichaniel?" The Faun shrugged again, looking faux-modest. "Oh yes, I've helped him out a number of times. He was rather confused about the whole deal at first. I gather that there just ain't _enough male Flower-Dragons around at any one time, for the whole idea of them getting it on with each other to ever really occur to them. Especially since each and every one of them tends to be surrounded by half a dozen lusty women, or more! But you know how Ori is - he treats everything like he's studying for an exam! As soon as he found out it was a thing, he wanted to learn about it, from every angle."

Silas was grinning even more broadly now, and there was no hint of false modesty in the way he thrust out his chest. "I daresay I've taught him a lot! He's a quick learner, that one, but I can still teach him a trick or two." The Mistress chuckled at his obvious pride, then turned her gaze back down onto Rubicundus, who remained unmoving in his tied-up, rather compromising position. "Well, there you have it, puppy... if you are to rise to the station of Concubine, you must be ready and able to please men as well as women. Are you prepared to begin learning?"

He didn't really need to think to answer that. The anxiety he had felt when he realized that his secret now was known to somebody else had already died out - the Faun's natural, unconcerned behavior had dulled it, as had the realization that he hardly could have served as a Concubine without the knowledge of the Seraglio's first Concubine. For that matter, the awareness that he had a calm, experienced senior who could provide advice and training was greatly calming - while he was eager to prove himself as a Concubine, he was also worried about disappointing his Mistress by bungling it.

Those were the thoughts going through his head. The question She had asked, he could answer without thinking. "Always, Mistress. My body is, as ever, at your disposal." She nodded, chuckling. "Well answered, as always. Then I leave you in the capable hands of your new teacher. I will simply... observe." Her eyes darted over to Silas, and she nodded. "There you have it, then. You have a new student, and while I fear he isn't much of a quick learner, he will need to have mastered at least the basics before he can be named a Concubine. I would suggest an... abbreviated course." The Faun's mouth moved as if he was chewing it over, then he nodded. "Aye, that sounds about right. I'll get right to work, then..."

Over the next two hours, under the watchful eye of the Mistress, he was given a brief but thorough introduction to the art of pleasing other males. His body remained tied down by the fragile ropes for most of that duration - legs spread and tail bent back - but with the Mistress' permission, Silas untied his neck and head as they started, giving him a bit of freedom of movement for the first lesson: Learning how to apply his oral skills to a hard dick instead of a soft pussy. Following the Faun's concise directions, he soon figured out how to wrap his tongue around the long, smooth shaft, squeezing and milking, careful to keep his fangs away from the sensitive instrument. Silas was remarkably relaxed about pushing his cock into Rubicundus' fang-filled maw, he noticed - but then, the Faun was known to spend just as much time in the company of Slira as he did, so perhaps that was no surprise.

The reward for his diligent study was a flood of thick, hot cum filling his throat, which he obediently swallowed. It wasn't as if the flavor was new to him - he had tasted it often enough, while cleaning out the Mistress' pussy or asshole after she had amused herself with some of her other lovers, Consort or Concubine. Silas acknowledged his effort with a nod. "Pretty basic stuff, tho, and there's a lot more to learn..." he commented, shrugging. "But that'll have to wait for later, I s'pose. For now, the most important thing is that you know how to get a bloke lubed up good'n'proper, and I'd say you've managed that much!" Indeed, Rubicundus' long, agile tongue had caressed every inch of the Faun's oversized tool, leaving behind a gleaming layer of saliva.

This part had taken maybe fifteen, twenty minutes at the outside. A minute later, he gazed up at his Mistress as he lost his anal virginity, his sphincter - still aching after the earlier punishment - forced open by the Faun's impressive girth. At his present scale, his body was far larger than Silas', but the Faun was - as all his kind - ludicrously well-hung, so the intruder in Rubicundus' tight ass truly felt like something that belonged on a Centaur. The pain, the stretching - it was similar to when he'd first had his urethra stretched and filled, by the first cock-cage his Mistress had bestowed upon him. And yet, it was... different, in many ways.

For the next hour, Silas gave him directions on how to relax his ass for easier entry and smoother thrusting, how to rhythmically tighten it in order to 'milk' his partner, and how to attain an orgasm solely through anal stimulation. He wasn't sure if he'd actually mastered that last lesson, though, despite the redoubled pressure in his groin as his balls throbbed with yet another unreleased load. Even as Silas labored behind him, showcasing various kinds of thrusts - from the quick and powerful to the long, smooth and slow - his eyes were glued to his Mistress. She'd cocked one knee over the armrest while leaning on the opposite, and Her fingers were playing lazily in Her pussy while she watched. The realization that he was giving his Mistress pleasure without even touching Her sent surges of ecstasy through his body that far outstripped the admittedly-pleasant sensations that were starting to radiate from his ass as it adapted to the Faun's girth.

Only once he had passed these basic hurdles did the Mistress give Silas permission to undo the last of the knots, removing the web of fragile, silken ropes. Rubicundus breathed a sigh of relief at this, but continued to maintain his position, lacking any orders to the contrary. The removal of the bonds were necessary, of course, for the next lesson - moving his hips in a suitable fashion, assisting his partner and simultaneously displaying willingness and eagerness. The sound of Silas' fuzzy hips colliding with his own, hard-scaled ass grew louder as their combined strength made the impacts harder - refreshing the soreness of his recently-battered bum in the process.

He was still working on this, focusing on getting the movements right the way Silas told him, when he felt his collar tightening around his neck - and the cock-cage tightening around his swaying, bobbing shaft. He quickly began to shrink, even as he refocused his momentarily-drifting attention on his Mistress, and saw that the hand that had previously held up Her head now held his leash, twisting it between slender fingers, while Her other hand continued its slow labor between Her legs. Of course, as he shrank, Silas remained a constant - and the sensation of painful stretching that had, by then, mostly faded from his ass returned with a vengeance.

Smaller and smaller he shrank, from the size of a pony to a large dog, and a bit beyond. He was finding it difficult to keep his breathing steady by then. His sphincter and everything beyond it was shrieking in pain, stretched tautly around Silas' invading shaft like a sausage-skin. He was struggling to keep his hips moving - not so much because of the pain, as because of the suddenly-increased tightness and friction. The energetic thrusts slowed down, but both of them continued to move, and behind him he heard Silas sharply draw in breath. "Damn that's tight..." the Faun muttered, and his breathing started to speed up.

The Faun had cum several times already, during the earlier lessons, but those orgasms had seemed almost calculated - a part of the lesson, basically. But now, there seemed to be real pleasure in the jerky motions of his hips, and the way the calloused fingers gripped his scaly hips. He was breathing unsteadily and grunting instead of giving more sage advice or directions. A soaring elation filled him - the Mistress had told him to learn how to please men with his body, and already he was managing to do so... with his experienced teacher, no less! All thanks to Her wise intervention...

With that thought, the pulsating agony of his overstretched anus became nothing more than another sort of pleasure, no different from when he felt the caress of Her paddle or Her whip. The movements of his hips gained new energy, and he even added a flair of his own devising - or, well, one he remembered that some of the ladies of the Harem favored. Shifting his hind-legs, he added a corkscrew-twist to his backwards thrusts, materially adding to the already-significant friction and piling more stimulation on top of the sheer tightness.

The strong fingers gripping his hips dug deep, deforming his scaly hide, and Silas's powerful hips made a couple of long, shaky, full-force thrusts before stopping. As the Faun groaned, he felt a surge of fresh, hot cum flood into his innards, and a surge of triumph and satisfaction to go with it. His own balls throbbed in response, trying gamely to deliver a thick, hot load - only to be once again blocked by the cock-cage, and thus accomplishing only a marked increase in the sensation of painful pressure that occupied his groin. He could feel a mounting pressure at the very base of his cock, where the push of the built-up sperm slowly worked its way in alongside the 'pearls', stretching open his urethra further in the process - and thus also making the first of the five rings encircling his shaft feel just a tiny bit tighter.

In spite of this, no more than a couple of minutes later, his aching balls surged again, ratcheting up the pressure another notch. It wasn't the sensation of Silas' cock throbbing in his ass as the Faun leaned over him, seemingly winded for a moment, that caused this - but rather the sight and sound of his Mistress leaning Her head against Her chair's backrest and moaning as Her fingers dug deep into Her glistening-wet pussy. He could tell from the way Her thighs were vibrating - She was cumming, orgasming, climaxing... from watching him. The idea that he could please his Mistress so just by performing before her, without even touching her, was new to him - though, remembering how many times his tormented balls had futilely attempted to empty themselves while he watched Her get fucked, pounded, violated, rammed and drilled by the entire male half of her Harem (and then some) during a still-recent punishment, perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him.

He pushed his hips eagerly back against Silas' still-hard cock, grinding against him, hoping that the ever-virile Faun would continue to fuck him, continue to provide a pleasurable display for the Mistress. He could happily stay on the floor like this all day, his asshole open for the taking, as long as She would continue to look at him with such hot, desirous eyes. But alas, as soon as Silas had regained his breath, he stepped back, pulling out and leaving Rubicundus' ass gaping briefly in the absence of penetration for a few seconds before it squeezed itself shut. "Well, I'd say you've got the basics of that end down pat too, by now..." the Faun said, sounding amused, as he walked around him.

Rubicundus watched out the corner of his eye as the Faun's semi-hard cock came into view, dangling between his curly-haired legs. It seemed ludicrous that the whole thing had fit inside him at his current size. It was also caked with cum and slime and smelled decidedly rank to his sensitive nose - hardly surprising, seeing as it had spent more than an hour and a half in his ass, basically nonstop. The hygiene-spells he used to clean his ass didn't go THAT deep, after all. Oh, and now it was dangling right in front of his snout, while Silas looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Of course, a proper Concubine can't turn his nose up at something like this, either..."

He could feel his Mistress eyes keenly on him, now. No longer foggy with desire, they were now sharp and observant. He remembered well, hearing from the Consorts how She had... issues with this particular act. How it was only quite recently that She had started loosening up about it, and how She still approached it with a great deal of restraint. Instinctively, he knew that is he displayed any reluctance, if he winced or flinched or pulled back from the slimy, reeking tool, She would step in. She'd call Silas to heel, and make some excuse about how they were out of time, and there'd be nothing more said of it.

So of course, he eagerly leaned forwards and wrapped his tongue around the slimy shaft, attacking it with even greater enthusiasm than he otherwise might have. The gentle mercy behind those sharp eyes touched him somewhere far more sensitive than his throbbing and aching cock and balls, and he could think of no other way to answer it. The warm glow inside him, the confirmation that She truly cared about him, rendered the bitter taste on his tongue and the sharp scent in his nose entirely irrelevant. So he licked and licked, curling his tongue around the long, thick tool, taking care to reach every square inch. It was a bigger job than it had been before - seeing as he was smaller, now - but he compensated with extra enthusiasm.

When he finally retracted his tongue, Silas' cock was spotless, gleaming with his spit and bobbing slightly from the stimulation. Pulling his head back also widened his field of view beyond the Faun's hairy hips, and he saw that his Mistress had risen from Her throne to approach them, smiling beautifully. "Well, I would say that your student has passed the lesson with flying colors... do you concur, Silas?" She asked lightly. The Faun nodded, looking downright impressed. "Can't deny, m'lady. In fact, it seems you might have done him an unkindness by calling him a slow study!" The Mistress, however, just chuckled and shook Her head. "Oh, he can be quite the quick study, when he puts his mind to it... that much, I am well aware of."

With his tongue still tired from its labors, he could not bring forth suitable words of gratitude for such praise - only bow his head before Her, letting his eyes convey his feelings. Those eyes, however, also caught the fact that She was holding some small, golden bauble... no... not golden. Electrum. That material alone was a strong hint as to what it was, and as such he was not surprised when She lifted the object with a smile, waving it before him. "Well, seeing as you have passed this trial, I suppose you deserve a small gift..." It was largely conical, but narrowed right at its base before expanding into a broad, round, flat bottom that appeared to be covered with glass, or possibly polished crystal. Combined with the gleaming metal it was attached to, it effectively served as a primitive mirror.

His tongue was finally working properly again, and he quickly put it to work. "Your generosity knows no bounds, Mistress. Unworthy though I may be, I will receive it with the utmost pleasure." She laughed, and answered as he had suspected She would. "Oh, yes you will..." Then she walked around behind him, reaching down under his still-raised tail, and pushed the smooth, cool metal against his twitching, freshly-fucked asshole. Like the rod in his urethra, the object - clearly a plug of some kind - seemed to have even less friction than its smooth metal surface would normally suggest, and it slid in easily, letting his sphincter close around the narrow 'neck' near the base.

He could feel it, resting inside him like the lump of cold metal that it was. He could also feel Her fingers, still holding on to the crystal-covered base. And finally, he could feel his collar growing tighter... along with the rings encircling his cock. He quickly shrank as She commanded, and discovered that the plug apparently didn't shrink with the rest of his gear. Instead, it remained static, growing inside him as he scaled himself down to the size of a small dog... a housecat... a_small_ cat... he was nearing the limits for his size-shifting ability, and - not incidentally - the limits of his ass's capacity. The small plug was huge, now, filling his ass, straining against its inner walls, the mirrored base covering a significant portion of his scaly rear. Even the narrow neck was thick enough by now to stretch his sphincter to the same degree Silas' cock had done when it first entered him.

He was little larger than a kitten when finally his collar stopped tightening. His rectum, meanwhile, was painfully full, straining futilely against the unyielding metal of the plug. His sphincter was no less stretched now than it had been when he had shrunk to dog-size with a Faun-sized cock inside him. He barely noticed Her fingers being removed - it was hard to focus on anything except the sensation of being stretched to near the breaking-point. Nonetheless, when his collar loosened again - and the rod in his dick started to grow thicker - he instinctively began to increase his size again.

She let him grow to something around the size of a small horse or a large pony before the collar once again grew still. Through it all, the sensation in his ass failed to change. Apparently, it was now connected to his collar, same as the cock-cage, and would grow or shrink with the rest of him. He couldn't restrain a pained mewl as Her fingers returned to the smooth base, curled around it, and pulled strongly. He could feel his asshole bulging out, and his sphincter stretching wider than ever before as the broad bottom of the cone challenged it. But that was all that happened - the plug was solidly seated, and as long as it retained its size relative to him, it clearly wasn't coming out.

Then, somewhat surprisingly, he felt some tiny vibrations in the plug - noticeable only due to the fact that his sensitive, internal tissue was stretched so tautly around it - as if She was just... moving Her fingers around the mirror-finish surface. He could hear Her mumbling, too - clearly to Herself. "I think Aterxeus said I needed to... hmm... like so, maybe? No, no... more like... ah, there we go! Well, that looks nice..." The last bit, at least, was loud enough that it might be directed at him, and then the Mistress appeared at his side, grinning in a dangerously mischievous way. "Come over here, my aspiring Concubine... you at least deserve to get a good look at your new adornment!" She gestured him towards her wardrobe, while opening one of its doors to reveal a full-body mirror in an elaborate, golden frame.

Curious as much as obedient, he shifted his body around to point his rear, tail raised, towards the mirror, and craned his long neck to look over his neatly-folded wings. What he saw made him do a double-take, and it took him a moment to figure out what was going on. What it _looked_like was a straight view down his own, widely-gaping asshole - he could see his inner walls pulsate, sore and sensitive after the long Faun-fucking, and watch the bottom of the red tunnel descend into a swamp of gooey white cum as it proceeded down into the darkness. Considering that there definitely should be a plug in the way of that view, he was able to quickly draw some conclusions.

The plug had to be enchanted with much more than a low-friction surface and the ability to tap into the collar's size-shifting. There'd be something at the tip - probably a polished gemstone - which was both lighting up his inside and transmitting the view directly to the viewing-surface of the mirrored base. Of course, the basic effect was much the same - the broad, round base, with its sharp, crystalline edges, meant that lowering his tail would be rather painful - its weight would rest on the upper edge of the plug, causing several kinds of discomfort. With his tail thus raised, anyone standing behind him would be treated to a perfect view up his well-fucked, cum-stained ass. And... was there some kind of text, floating in midair? Or rather, superimposed on the view of his insides.

It was mirrored, of course, but he quickly flipped it in his mind. 'Faun: 3'. Huh? His confusion must have been visible on his face, because the Mistress chuckled again and patted him on the head. "A nice piece of work, isn't it? Aterxeus had a lot of fun making it - he really loves collaborating with Korlin. I think the best part is the counter, though... anytime the plug is in, it'll show a complete count of how many times males of each race have reached orgasm using that hole. Looks like Silas came a total of three times during your training, huh?"

Rubicundus blinked. So not only would he be showing off the current status of his ass, but also a complete - and no doubt steadily-growing - inventory of the number of times he'd used it to service someone? The familiar, cold shiver of utter humiliation ran through him - reminding him of the first time he'd licked his Mistress' feet, the first time he'd cleaned his own cum off Her skin, the first time She'd pissed in his mouth, and many other seminal moments. His cock jumped and throbbed in its cage and his balls seemed to shiver, close to yet another hopeless attempt at orgasming, just from the sight and sensation. "A truly spectacular gift, Mistress. My gratitude knows no bounds." He managed to gasp out, feeling out of breath.

She smiled benevolently at him and nodded, then turned to face Silas again. "Now, then... what else would you say is necessary for a good Concubine to master?" The Faun tipped his head thoughtfully to the side. "Well, other than the physical stuff... there's the whole mental aspect. A Concubine has to be basically shameless, ya know? You walk around out there, among bureaucrats and burghers, and you feel their eyes on you, judging. They know that you aren't in the Harem for your brilliance or connections - or indeed anything other than your sexual skills. Many of them will whisper behind your back, saying you're nothing more than a glorified whore." Despite the heavy words, though, he grinned as he shook his head. "But you can't let any of it get to you! If you feel ashamed to be a Concubine to the Beastmaker, even for a moment, that means you aren't worthy of that title."

Rubicundus nodded, understanding well. Heck, he was proud just to be the Beastmaker's_dog_, but he wouldn't expect anyone else to understand... though of course, the fact that the nature of their relationship was kept secret - by Her command - meant that he was insulated from the consequences thereof. Indeed, considering that, how was he supposed to prove his mastery of that particular aspect of the Concubine's duty? Even as he thought that question, though, the Mistress graciously provided the answer. Putting her hands together, she grinned. "Well, then - time to break for lunch, I believe. Oh, Silas, you may tell the others that I won't be joining them in the dining-hall, though - I've reserved a table at a fancy new restaurant that opened down in the city recently." Her grin grew broader as she tugged on his leash. "A table for two, to be specific. Come along, then - we'll walk, I think. It's a beautiful day, after all!"

His eyes widened and his jaw dropped, even as Silas politely nodded his understanding and excused himself. He still hadn't managed to pick it up again by the time the Mistress had finished pulling on Her favorite dress - the heavily-enchanted one, from the old Elven empire. The royal purple fabric went remarkably well with Her jet-black gloves and stockings, though sadly She had elected to wear a pair of practical, flat, black leather slippers instead of the gorgeous high-heeled pumps that usually went with the outfit. As another insistent pull on the leash drew him inexorably towards the door, he did his best to compose himself, for whatever good that would do...

It was, indeed, a beautiful day outside - and as a result, several of the Consorts were spending time in the garden, enjoying the weather. Taking in the sun, swimming in the pond, fucking in the fresh air... lots of available activities. Most of them turned to wave as the Mistress stepped out of her chambers, waving back at them. And he followed close behind - with collar and leash, caged cock dangling heavy between his legs, and a huge plug filling his ass and broadcasting an image of its cum-filled interior for all to see. None of them reacted with the shock he'd expected. Had they, like Silas, already been told about his... secret?

Still, he felt their eyes on him as he was led through the garden on a leash. Felt them stare at his throbbing, metal-enclosed cock, and the utter submission it symbolized. As he passed them by, those gazes moved to beneath his lifted tail, where his asshole loudly signaled its availability. How many of the other males would call on him, once he was a full Concubine? Would the Mistress soon be watching with heated eyes as he was mounted by the Centaur, the Flower-Dragon... maybe even the Griffon? He could not imagine that any Griffon worth his beak could pass up such an opportunity to humiliate a Dragon.

Once they left the Seraglio, and walked through the hallways of the Palace towards the main gates, however, he found himself rapidly reassessing the situation. The various palace functionaries and bureaucrats who crowded the halls, heading to lunch or back from an early one, politely gave way for him and the Mistress, and while he keenly felt their eyes on his body, there were no cries of shock or scandalized expressions. It was remotely possible that the Mistress might have shared the truth of their relationship with Her entire Harem, but the whole Palace? That seemed extremely unlikely.

And then they were walking through the streets of the Capital. People - humans, Beastkin and others - stood aside and bowed as the Beastmaker, the Empress, the Mistress passed. And they stared at him, all of them, their eyes heavy against his scaly hide. He allowed himself to be swept away by the sensation, the feeling of walking behind his Mistress, leashed and collared, the cock-cage and the plug clearly showing that he was nothing more than an obedient dog, a sex-slave, eager to serve his Mistress' every desire. He, a Dragon, was eagerly applying for the position of Concubine, which would require him to serve the entire Harem with his body, all those that his kin called 'lesser beings'... he was ready to pleasure them all, with his dick, his tongue, his ass, whatever they required. And he would happily parade before the entire city with his status on clear display - for he was _proud_of what he was, of having been chosen to serve the Mistress.

His cock and balls throbbed painfully as he came, then and there, in the middle of the street, in front of a thousand eyes. Of course, it didn't get any further than the bumpy rod filling his dick - but the pressure behind it was growing increasingly painful. He kept his face carefully straight, however - jaw clamped tightly shut against any sound he might make in his pleasure-tinged torment. After all, he was well aware by now that the people of the Capital was seeing nothing more extraordinary than a Dragon walking among them, a respectful step and a half behind the Beastmaker. And to their eyes, that would be an extraordinary enough sight all by itself!

He should've realized it sooner, really. The cock-cage, the plug... they had their own enchantments, but they were also linked to his collar, part of a greater, magical network. Which didn't just mean that, like the collar, they could grow or shrink as the Mistress required. It also meant that they were covered by the same spell of invisibility. He didn't properly understand how it worked, frankly - but he knew that it was Korlin's main contribution to the collaboration. Potent Kirin-magic, not Dragon-magic. A spell of obfuscation that deceived the mind, not the eyes. The collar and the rest, they were all perfectly visible - anyone could see them if they were _pointed out_to them. But until then, their minds simply... edited them out.

So not only could his audience not see the cock-cage or the plug, they wouldn't even be able to see his throbbing erection, nor the stretched-open condition of his sphincter. Their minds simply edited those regions out, painted them over with an assumption of normalcy. And so, he could walk openly like this, demonstrating his devotion to the Mistress, without any of the pesky consequences that would normally carry with it - such as word of it getting back to the Circle, and prompting a swift, violent, and utterly scandalized response.

Despite this magical protection, however, lunch proved... challenging. Sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant, packed with the upper crust of human society, feeling the plug push deeper into his ass as he rested his weight on it... feeling his cock jump and shudder whenever the Mistress' toes 'accidentally' brushed against it... while trying to concentrate on an in-depth discussion about the most recent missive from the Circle, and maybe actually eat some food too. It was probably delicious, he reflected - but he really didn't have any attention to spare for actually tasting it.

Of course, he well understood the point. The issue that the Mistress had brought up was one he had recently carried to her, after receiving it himself. As a mere dog, he had no authority with which to handle whatever cases his fellow Dragons threw at him, after all. But once he was a Concubine, he'd be expected to do just that - handle complaints, requests, troubles and thorny issues that came to him from the Dragons in general - as part of his training towards full Consort-status, even as he continued to perform his duties as a Concubine. Being able to handle a conversation like this despite the rumbling storm of painful and pleasurable sensations that had taken up residence between his hips was the bare minimum!

The meal seemed to drag on for uncounted hours (but probably only took half an hour and change) before they finally left the table. As they walked out of the restaurant, the eyes of the Empire's elite on them, the Mistress glanced at the sun and clicked her tongue. "Ah, we're going to be late at this rate... I think we'd best fly back home." He nodded obediently. "Of course, my Lady. I am at your service." The crowd that had gathered outside the restaurant, drawn in by the rumor that the Beastmaker herself was dining there, couldn't see the leash twist in Her hand, couldn't see the cock-cage or the plug begin to grow painfully - but they could see him increase his size to that of a draft horse, and then raise a foreleg to act as stepping-stone.

Clouded though their eyes were, they could still see the respect he held for Her. They could still see his devotion, his submission, as She climbed onto his back and seated herself in front of his wings. His balls surged agonizingly once more, already at their limit after all the 'accidental' touches to his swollen, oversensitive shaft. The sensation in his groin had already moved from mere discomfort to a constantly-thrumming pain, but he showed no sign of it as he felt the blocked orgasm wash over him in front of the hundreds-strong crowd, and spread his wings.

The flight back to the Seraglio was short and... unpleasant. Sitting down for so long had let the three hefty cumloads Silas had pumped into him earlier flow down to accumulate against the watertight seal of the huge plug. He could feel it sloshing around in his guts as his body surged with the beating of his wings. Meanwhile, the warm air caressed his hypersensitive cock, bringing him dangerously close to yet another broken orgasm - though her managed to restrain himself, despite the contributing factor of having the Mistress' thighs wrapped tightly around his neck.

Soon, they were back in Her chambers. Commanded by the collar, he had shrunk a bit to fit through the door, but he remained horse-sized - She had pushed him no further. Once the door closed behind them, She pulled off the purple dress, once again revealing the black finery beneath, and he found the self-control he had maintained during the flight slipping. A pained groan escaped from between his teeth as he saw the wet stains on Her inner thighs, and he felt his tormented balls surge with futile vigor once more. She had grown that aroused just from riding on his back... taken pleasure from his spinal ridge digging into her crotch...

The pressure in his groin had grown truly agonizing by now. The second ring of the cock-cage sat painfully tight around his shaft too, courtesy of the high-pressure cum forcing its way up alongside the bumpy rod filling his urethra, nearly to the halfway point. A part of him mostly just wanted to roll into a ball around the thumping torment that filled his abdomen - but he obediently followed the tug on his leash as the Mistress led him over to the bed, and sat down in the proscribed, canine manner as She herself sank down on the edge of the bed, his swollen balls and caged cock on full display.

She looked him up and down, and then smiled. "Well, I suppose you have passed your examination - just barely. I hereby bestow upon you the title of Concubine to the Beastmaker." The pain faded away to a distant, unimportant bit of background noise as elation filled his body, his heart beating quickly. Bowing his head, he spoke - voice thick with emotion. "I thank you for granting such an honor to an unworthy dog like myself. I swear that I will dedicate myself, body and soul, to living up to it!" Her smile lit up his heart as She nodded. "I know you will, and I expect nothing less." Then She pointed towards his groin with a raised eyebrow and a rather sardonic expression. "Now, then... about this..."

She reached forth a single finger, resting it against the metallic tip of the cage. Even that light touch was enough to send pained shivers through him. "I know what is likely to happen as soon as I remove this. However, I call on you to use the discipline you have worked so hard to master as my dog, and restrain yourself for just one minute." He swallowed, and nodded. She was asking for a lot, but... it wasn't_impossible_. He was, after all, a Dragon. A sleeve of slick muscle covered the inflatable portion of his penis, rendering it effectively prehensile and granting him far better control over it than most species enjoyed.

As She leaned forwards a bit and whispered the command-words to release him from his prison - "Good boy!" - he focused all of his will on those muscles. As soon as the rings encircling his shaft opened, and the lengthwise bars folded up towards the center, the pressure inside threatened to eject the whole rod immediately, sending it flying from the tip of his cock like a javelin. But he clamped down around the base, shutting off the flow while the Mistress gently pulled it out, every bead on its length sending small shudders through him as it emerged from his urethra. As the rod disappeared, he clamped down wherever it had been, gripping the tender tissue beneath with a strong, muscular fist.

Finally, the rod was gone, and only a few large drops of cum oozed out with it, pulled along by the beads themselves. The Mistress nodded in acknowledgment of the accomplishment, threw the rod aside, and then simply leaned back on the bed, spreading her legs. "Well done, my Concubine..." She said throatily. "Now, seize your new prerogative, and show me the depth of your love for me! Fill me with everything you have built up through the day!" He obeyed with an eager cry, leaping forwards, heart soaring as his pained, shuddering cock sought the orifice he only just now had earned the right to access. Her labia were smooth and wet, parting easily before even his current girth.

Even as he pushed forwards into that warm, moist, tight orifice, he relaxed his control... and felt the long-held pressure finally release. She gasped beneath him as the hot cum poured into Her, a dozen orgasm's worth, built up inside him until he'd been close to bursting. By the time he bottomed out, Her pussy snug around his full length, it was already oozing out around Her labia. The sensation was indescribably intense. His whole body was shuddering, and he could not immediately convince his hips to begin thrusting. He could only stand there, covering Her body with his own, shaking in helpless pleasure, watching Her face distort with an ecstasy of Her own as he filled Her womb to overflowing.

That sight was almost more than he could handle, too beautiful, too pure, too much on top of the visceral pleasure of emptying his balls after so long, and into the hallowed ground of Her pussy at that, a dream come true. He tried lifting his head, moving his eyes, but then he felt the collar around his neck, the leash tight in Her hand, pulling him back down. Her eyes were foggy with pleasure, but still sharp underneath, and with a breathy voice, she chastised him. "Don't... ahh... look away. You've earned this. Watch my pleasure... mmmnnh... watch it closely. So that you never forget what your purpose is."

So he watched. As She climaxed beneath him, her face contorting in orgasmic joy, he engraved it on his own, pleasure-overwhelmed mind. He was Her dog, Her Concubine, Her slave. To please Her was his one true purpose. His own pleasure, pain or humiliation was irrelevant. That face, that joy, was all that mattered. With an effort of will, he pushed his shuddering hips into cooperating, acting, moving... fucking Her, pounding Her, giving his all for Her. His cock ached after its long imprisonment, his balls were numb after dumping their vast load, his ass was still stretched open and gurgled with sloshing Faun-cum, and the hole he was fucking was so packed with jizz that his every thrust resulted in disgusting, gooey noises. Still he kept going, eager to watch Her cum again, wanting nothing more than to know that he was giving Her pleasure. He would stop when She called him off, or when he passed out - it was as simple as that.

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PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE

Name: Rubicundus (Dragons do not use family-names)

Titles: The Beastmaker's Dog (secret), Concubine to the Beastmaker (secret), Dragon-Consort to the Beastmaker (officially).

Age: 167 (Counted from egg-laying, not hatching. Dragon age of majority is 150.)

Sexual Profile: Hardcore submissive and masochist, effectively 'Saynsexual'. His only focus is pleasing her, and he will likely engage in any sexual act, with any gender or species, if she requests it. Possesses great mental and physical fortitude due to being a Dragon, ensuring that he can handle just about anything he's put through, and requiring very little 'aftercare' in compensation. If anything, he seems to find it harder to handle Sayn's gentle touch than her ruthless punishment...

Psychological Assessment: Submissiveness is a very rare trait in a Dragon, needless to say, but there does not appear to be any background trauma or other 'explanation' for it in Rubicundus' case. It is simply who and what he is, though he has learned how to hide it well, knowing fully that it is not considered acceptable in draconic society. Sayn offered him the chance to live out his deeply-buried and secret desires, against all expectations - and for that, he has given her his undying devotion. He is well aware that she is not truly a Goddess, but that does not stop him from worshiping the ground she walks on. He would do so even if there was not a drop of divine blood in her veins - her power and authority as The Beastmaker has nothing to do with his feelings for her. (Though, admittedly, she would have found it hard to break through to those feelings without those powers.)

Extrapolation: Rubicundus ultimately isn't loyal to Sayn, so much as to his own image of her - that of his kind yet merciless Mistress. As long as Sayn lives up to that image, showing him the domineering cruelty he craves, he would happily die for her - but it is uncertain what he would do if that image cracked. To a point, he would likely tolerate it, for lack of any viable alternatives, but at length it could drive him to abandon or even turn on her. This, however, is subject to change. It is possible that, by spending time with the rest of the Harem and learning to relate to them, he will eventually develop feelings for them - and for her - that has nothing to do with his submissive impulses.

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_ END _