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Dalkorrd sighed as he relaxed in his hammock outside of the little cottage in the woods. It was a peaceful place, surprisingly common in Hell if you believed in all those stereotypes and rumors that mortals passed around. After all, Hell was just another plane of existence, not a place for torturing the damned. Though demons were good at that. The ten foot tall draconic demon lounged with a book and fruity drink in arms reach. The heat of the crimson sun felt good on his green scales as his serpent tail wove itself through the holes in the hammock to pretend it was hunting, the snake-head flicking its tongue out at the demon's rump occasionally like an errant child. Brushing his mane down he turned a page of the novel he was reading, chuckling at the thought that a creature like Cthulhu could ever exist.

It had been millennia since the former demon lord faked his death, with the help of a mage, the only way to step down from his throne without actually getting killed or turned into the slave and torture doll of the rising demon lord for eternity. Now that he was out of the iron maiden that he'd spent thousands of years in, most had forgotten about who he was, so now he could live without the cares of court life. Though he'd been trapped so long that he had begun to wonder if the mage had forgotten him as well. When he was released his body had been riddled with holes from the spikes of the maiden, and he had been too weak to stand for months from bleeding out for so long, even his regenerative abilities had not been enough to help him recover quickly after that ordeal.

Now though, he was free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, no more war meetings, no more political maneuverings, or constantly having to watch his back.

Stretching he felt his back popping pleasantly before he swung his legs over the side to stand up. The former lord, a title few lived to hold on to for long, walked back towards his cabin. He might not have the sheer amount of power that he'd had as a lord, but he was still a god in Hell, and could wreak havoc if he desired, but if anyone recognized his way of brutality, he'd end up chained to a silver cross, and forced to drink holy water until his body dissolved from the inside-out. And that was only if the current lord was being merciful.

Thankfully though, he was unable to be slain by any but his own direct descendants. Only one of whom he'd allowed to live since she was his first born, and she'd been born before the curse had been placed upon him by his own father when he'd usurped the throne. Sitting down at the kitchen table, really the only table in the entire cabin since it was a single room, he sighed as he snapped his fingers, the daily news popping into existence on the table. Just like the mortal realm, there was the press, though they didn't deliver, instead a demon had to summon up one of them to hear what was going on in Hell. Unwrapping the plastic sleeve he unrolled the paper and set it on the table to read.

Immediately, the front page story caught his attention. "Lady of Hell, Jynx Fortuna crowned." Jynx? That was his baby girl's name! And Fortuna is what she called herself when she came of age. Reading through the article he swelled with the pride of a father. That was his daughter! She'd won in the most recent struggle to obtain the throne! That was no surprise in hindsight, she had inherited his vast wealth and his most loyal armies. Being his seed through the Lady Luck had given her power over bad luck, and a body that most women would be jealous of. He debated on if it would be safe to visit her and give her his congratulations.

Mulling it over for an hour he decided he'd do it, the risk was small, it was his baby, why should she kill or enslave him? And he wished to reconnect after so many millennia apart. Getting dressed in his court best, a black loincloth that had gold trimming; the one thing he'd kept since faking his death, and the only type of clothing that fit his hybrid frame; he headed out, spreading his wings and launching into the air to fly towards the palace of Hell.

He landed outside the palace gates, where there was a small crowd of petitioners. The palace was more like a fort. Its outer walls were large slabs of stone that were set in place by giant demons throughout time, none had broken through the outer walls, though scaling, digging, and bashing in the gates had occasionally proven effective at bypassing them. The gates themselves changed with whoever the lord or lady in charge decided. Examining them as he passed through he was glad of her choice in using titanium alloy that were completely solid, no rivets to create weak points in the doors. Walking through the inner courtyard he looked around, seeing some of the statues that had been there since before his reign, and a few others that had been added since he left. It was a mile walk between the outer gates and the actual palace, but if he had tried to fly over the walls he would have been shot down and thrown in the dungeons before even seeing his daughter.

The path lead him to the palace doors, which were solid titanium alloy just as the outer gates. He stepped in and looked around the throne room, the tapestries were all new, and depicted his daughter in various nude poses, each one more seductive than the last. Well, most Ladies of hell used their sex to turn the tides of power, and he had no objections to his daughter using her full repertoire of tools to maintain power. The floor was bare but for a single black rug that went from the doorway straight up to the Dias that held the throne. Known as the Patchwork Throne, it was made, and added to, by each of the rulers of hell. Some added the blades and weapons of their fallen foes, others contributed with chitin and skulls. The throne was massive, it had easily dwarfed even Dalkorrd at his height that was double that of an average human. It was uncomfortable for anyone to sit in, so there were cushions between the skull and bone seat and the rump of the person that currently sat in it.

His eyes lit up as he saw his daughter in all her glory. Unlike humans where family resemblance was almost guaranteed, among demons and gods it could be completely nonexistent. His daughter was a shapeshifter, like her mother, with three forms under her belt, raven, dragon, and feline, with feline as her main, which was also the one she was currently in. She was resplendent as she sat nude upon the throne, her black fur shimmering in the light of the torches and candles of the room. She had purple fur on her fingers and toes, as well as the rims of her ears and the tip of her tail. Being a goth girl her entire life she dyed streaks of purple into her hair, and with her powers as ruler of hell she must have made them both permanent, and more vibrant. Her yellow eyes gazed at the current petitioner, before angling up to widen in shock as she locked eyes with her father.

Standing immediately she waved the petitioner into silence as she took a step down from the throne. "Everyone out, only castle staff and that one may remain." She pointed at Dalkorrd, and everyone who was visiting quickly left, not wishing to end up thrown in the dungeons for disobeying, or being cursed with such bad luck that their lives would become painful without meticulous planning.

Dalkorrd was not sure what to make of being called "that one" by his daughter, but assumed that it was for his own safety, in case any of her court recognized his name and decided to eliminate him based on his former lordship. He waited until they were alone, but for her retainers, before smiling at her and taking a step forward, arms outstretched for a hug. Immediately every weapon in the room was unsheathed and aimed at him. His smile faded and arms dropped as he looked around before turning back to Jynx. "What's the meaning of this? Is this how you-?"

He was interrupted by his daughter holding up her hand, one finger raised in a wait gesture. "You faked your death. Everyone thought you'd been dead for almost an eon. Even I was fooled!" The black feline snarled, voice rising. "You left me with nothing but your army, most of which ran off on me to join whoever else they thought would rule best! I had to claw my way back from the brink of defeat, from becoming a slave to one of the lords! And when you come to see me, millennia too late, you have the gall to try and hug me!"

Her words stung as she began to roar them out, the chimera-dragon wincing each time her voice raised ever higher in tone. When she finished he opened his maw to speak. "Dear one, I'm sorry I didn't visit sooner. I didn't know where you were until today's newspaper." He did not notice as her guards stepped closer, two of them flanking behind him.

The two guards behind him recognized him, they had been a captain and general in his army, though their allegiance had changed to follow Jynx. One was a grey hellhound. An "albino" since they never really did seem to go white, but his eyes were the same red as an albino wolf's. He stood at six feet tall, just above Dalkorrd's waist. It was the other one, the general, who grabbed the former lord and wrapped him into a full nelson, on Jynx's silent command, while he was distracted. The general was a shadow dragon, and only a foot shorter than the chimera-dragon.

Dalkorrd struggled, before turning to see who held him. "Merlac? Tsernom?" His tail had been grabbed by the hellhound at the same time he'd been put into the submission hold. He stopped struggling, too shocked to see his most loyal commanders turned against him. The grey hellhound gripping his tail just below its skull to keep it from opening its jaws.

He was forced to his knees as Jynx approached, reaching up to slap him across the face. The blow stung, but he did not react, too shocked by what was happening. "Take him into the dungeons. He must pay for his crimes of abandoning me." With that command his tail was slapped into a muzzle, and he felt his wrists shackled behind his head as a collar was placed around his throat, pressing his mane down. He felt a short chain run from his shackles to the collar, keeping his arms up and spread over his head.

Once he was tightly in his bonds he was forced to stand, and march to a door in the side of the hall. He didn't struggle, for he felt the pressure of his former commanders' power, and it dwarfed his own after years of having them entropy due to disuse. The former lord was lead down into the dungeons, where the screams of the damned were a constant chorus. No lord or lady of Hell ever emptied the dungeon, they only added to it, some of these poor souls had been down here since his own rule, others from even longer.

They took him deep, down into the newer sections of the dungeons, where it was eerily quiet compared to the rest. This section was empty. The hybrid demon was lead to the last cell on the right, the door was opened and he was pushed inside to land on his side against the cold stone floor.

"Merlac, Tsernom, what's going on? Why are you doing this to your lord?"

"You're not a lord anymore Dalkorrd. We serve Jynx now." Merlac growled before spitting onto his face. He stepped into the cell, followed by the grey hellhound, who shut the door. "And we have orders to punish you for abandoning her. She'd do it herself, but due to the curse on you, anything she did would be permanent. And she wants to keep you around for good."

The curse that the shadow dragon spoke of had been placed upon Dalkorrd when he slew his father for the throne, that he could only be killed by his direct descendants. One of the side effects was that if they hurt him, even by accident, the wound would never heal. Should anyone else harm him though, he would be good as new within a day, even if his body was reduced to ash.

Lifting Dalkorrd up by his elbows his wrists were left fixed to his collar as a new chain was attached between them and the ceiling, forcing him to stand in the center of the room. Tsernom grabbed the black and gold loincloth and tore it from his hips, baring his body to the two males, before giving it to Merlac who roughly grabbed the former lord's jaws, forcing them open, and wadding it up into his jaws, forcing them to spread around the bunched up fabric; making it wet with his saliva.

Dalkorrd's tail was grabbed once more, and a collar placed upon its own throat, a chain leading from it to the floor, to keep it lowered. Shackles were placed on his hocks, to opposite walls, before being spread to the point where he lost his balance, and hung there by his wrists and neck. Unfurling his wings, they pulled them to the limit, then punched holes between each finger of them, running bars between them to keep them spread, eventually they began to droop from their own weight as well as the weight of the bars.

The two of them kept occasionally fondling his balls, and stroking his slit, rubbing the folds of it as if they were a female's, even rubbing circles around where a clit would be. Jerking in his bonds, Dalkorrd snarled at them whenever they did that, the effect of the threat lost due to his own loincloth being used to gag him. Tsernom and Merlac kept up their teasing until they saw the blunt tip of his shaft emerge, then they began to incorporate it into their play. Tsernom grinned cheekily as he leaned in and gave the member a long lick, barely having to crouch from their height difference. The heat of the hellhound's tongue made his shaft shoot out, getting to full mast. With only a few more minutes of teasing his barbed knot began to inflate, and Merlac brought a locking ring to the base of it, behind the knot, to shut it, keeping him hard.

After that the two of them laughed malevolently as they left, shutting the door and leaving the former lord in utter darkness. Giving him nothing but time to try and absorb what his fate was, and try to puzzle out why he was down here.

After what seemed like days, the door was opened; though in reality it had only been a few hours, as his wings had yet to even begin healing; and Tsernom and Merlac stepped in once more. They wheeled in with them; more chains, as well as knives, whips, clubs, and various other implements of torture all on a rolling table.

Dalkorrd squinted in the light, and a few lanterns were lit to illuminate the cell, revealing his form once again. The shadow dragon grabbed a cat-o-nine-tails from the table, metal blades at the tip of each chord. He ran his fingers through it as Tsernom grabbed a bullwhip, snapping it taught between his own hands. Merlac walked around their bound victim, Dalkorrd's head turning to follow him, since all his tail-snake could see were the dragon's claws. That was a mistake, as soon as Tsernom was out of the former lord's range of vision the whip lashed out, connecting with his balls, the tip slamming into his perineum.

Screaming through the makeshift gag he jerked in his bonds, only to feel the cat's metal claws dig into the flesh of his back. The two of them alternated their lashes, Tsernom's bullwhip making bruises and small cuts into his abs and groin, while Merlac's cat dug small chunks of his flesh from his back and wings. Even his rump and tail caught blows from the metal barbs occasionally. His cock jumped whenever the whip crashed against it, giving it a red line with every blow.

After an hour Dalkorrd was slumped in his bonds, no longer able to scream through the gag due to his throat raw from how much noise he'd already made. Blood ran in rivers down his back, and trickled down his front. They continued. Finally, the tip of Tsernom's bullwhip slashed against the former lord's sack, and with a weak cry of pain accompanying, his sack slit open, letting his nuts dangle out from the flap of skin that had been his scrotum.

The two of them stopped then, and Merlac grabbed some salt from a bag they'd left on the table that they'd brought. Throwing the salt onto his back caused a fresh round of muted, hoarse cries of pain from Dalkorrd. Tsernom also grabbed a pawfull of salt, before walking right beneath those exposed orbs. He wrapped his lips around the useless flap of skin that had once protected them, and began to gnaw. Feeling the sack tear away between his jaws he slapped his fistful of salt onto those orbs and bleeding wound, watching as the green-scaled demon tried to shrink away.

"To think I used to adore these when I was younger." Tsernom grinned malevolently up at their captive. "I remember how much I loved hearing you call for me at nights, whenever Her Majesty was away." His hands grasped each orb, both the size of tennis balls, and began to pull on them roughly. "I've always wondered what you'd do without them." With that he wrenched them from his captive's groin, pulling until the tubes snapped, slamming back into the salted wound to stick there.

Dalkorrd screamed through the gag, his hoarse voice crying out. Tsernom held the two orbs before his face, grinning wickedly. Feeling hands against the back of his head, he felt the makeshift gag fall away. But before the former lord could utter a word of wonder, he felt a new gag placed just behind his fangs, this one a metal ring that forced his jaws wide, gaping his maw. Whimpering he watched as Tsernom dropped the orbs into Merlac's claws, who raised them up to Dalkorrd's open mouth. Forcing his head up by pulling on his horns, the hand tipped, sending both of the orbs into their former owner's maw!

Dalkorrd tried to push them out with his tongue, but with his head forced to look up, it was impossible. Suddenly he felt fingers caressing his throat, Merlac's claws teasing his neck. Gulping audibly, he could feel his own orbs going down his esophagus, bugling out his throat as they slowly went down, even though they felt like they'd stuck. Thankfully his tail could still breathe for him.

He blushed crimson as they chuckled at him, knowing they saw his orbs fall down his throat. "Such a good whore you'll make for the court once properly trained." Merlac patted his cheek like a dog. When the hand left he felt himself lowered.

The chains connecting Dalkorrd's wrists to his neck were removed, only for him to hang from the chains on his wrists. He was dropped to his knees, legs too weak to stand after his torture. His head hung in shame as the shadow dragon's shaft was slapped across his cheek; a black monster, thick and veiny, with an almost human shape, if no for the rows of ribbing along the length,. "Start sucking. Or I'll rape your corpse. We've been ordered to have you dead by nightfall on a daily basis, so your last conscious moments are nothing but pain before you regenerate in the mornings."

The former lord lifted his head, the head of that draconic shaft smearing pre across his cheek. He stared up at that herculean body, a body that had served him a few times on lonely nights when he was lord. Merlac took that as his queue, and gripped the hybrid's horns, to ram his shaft into the back of that tight throat.

"This is your first time taking shadow dragon dick no?" Merlac grinned wickedly. "Let's make it unforgettable." He pushed forwards even further, until his hips pressed against the chimera-dragon's snout. Dalkorrd gagged and wretched as that member pulsed, past the bend in his throat, before he felt it start to get longer.

Shadow dragons had a unique ability to draw mass from shadows. Dalkorrd's eyes rolled up to stare at his former commander in shock as he felt the shaft filling his neck, then going deeper, his collar bone cracking as the length was given girth. Tsernom began to walk to the lanterns, putting them out one by one. Once one side of him was in shadow, he felt an oppressive weight fall upon him, the shadows connecting to Merlac, becoming a part of him.

As the last lantern went out, Merlac laughed maliciously, and the former lord was engulfed by physical shadows, the weight of it bore down on him. He felt his nostrils filled, the presence going down into his nasal cavity, to meet the shaft that was already in his throat, the tip pushing into his stomach. His rump was spread by the mass surrounding him, forcing a tendril roughly up into him, filling his colon, then going even deeper to twist its way through his intestines. His urethra and slit were no exceptions, his slit spread wide and filled, urethra pierced by another mass, that went down deep, into his bladder to tickle his prostate.

Then he felt his air cut off, and he knew his tail was being given a similar treatment, confirmed once he felt another tendril going through the base of his tail, to join the two inside his stomach to writhe inside him. Even his lungs were filled, and he began to convulse. He could hear Merlac's laughter, inside his ears from more tendrils filling them. Every hole of his was filled, even the wounds that had been inflicted by his tormentors.

"Yeah, take it slut." Merlac's voice came from everywhere, he could feel it in his body, and taste it on his tongue.

Dalkorrd began to convulse more harshly as the air was denied to him. He felt his eyes spread open by the mass, and felt it pushing around under and around his ocular orbs. Whimpering, his vision became loaded with colors as pressure was placed on his eyes. The shadows felt around in his orbits, and latched onto his retina. Unable to scream, the former lord could not protest as he felt and saw a flash in his eyes, before he felt a void where his eyes were supposed to be, that was then filled by shadow.

Suddenly, the weight was gone, as were the tendrils. Merlac stood just inches away, holding two pairs of eyes in his claws, invisible to the gasping captive; recovering from his lungs being filled with shadow instead of air. Reaching down, he lifted Dalkorrd's head, and dropped the orbs into his forced-open maw. Keeping his head up by the jaw, Merlac pet his throat until he was forced to swallow them whole, just as he'd done with his balls.

"Good boy." Merlac stroked the captive's mane, as Tsernom walked over to finger his eye sockets.

Dalkorrd flinched as he felt those claws where his eyes once were, but felt his other socket gripped by another paw. "Look at how pretty you look like this. I'm tempted to ask her to keep you like this. Your empty lids and sackless groin are too pretty."

Merlac chuckled at that and began to brush their captive's mane. "Add some make-up, and a revealing maid-outfit and you know the court, and even servants, would love a go at such a big boy's ass. His hole's big enough to take some of them dry even, not that lube will be an option for him."

The former lord felt the shadow dragon's claws caress his throat a bit as he felt the furry fingers of the hellhound evacuate his eye sockets. Merlac lifted Dalkorrd's head up, forcing him to face him before bending down to kiss him on the mouth, the ring-gag ignored as his tongue entered the hybrid's mouth, exploring it, and going down his throat to tease his lungs. When he retreated, he used his tongue to wrap around the chimera-dragon's, pulling it out of his forced-open mouth, into the shadow-dragon's. With a quick snap of the ebony male's jaws, that tongue was severed, and raising up, Merlac chewed up that tongue before swallowing it. "Delicious as ever, though this is my first time actually eating it."

Tsernom walked back to the table, grabbing some pliers and returning to their captive. He tested that they opened and shut properly, without to much strain on his hands, as Merlac grabbed Dalkorrd's hands and forced his fingers spread. The hellhound reached up and placed the teeth of the pliers against their captive's claws, clamping down on them tight enough that the tip cracked. Then came the yank.

The former lord howled in pain as his claw was pulled from his finger by the root, leaving a bleeding divot in his skin where it had grown. He jerked, trying to curl his fingers in to protect them, but Merlac's grip saw that his claws were there for the taking. One by one, each of his claws were pulled by the root, until all his fingers ended in weeping flesh.

Then they went for his toes. Grabbing larger pliers, Merlac was the one yanking this time, as Tsernom held the feet down. Dalkorrd tried to wrench his feet away, but to no avail. His foot-claws were larger, and thicker than those on his hands. Those pliers were closed around his claws until the outermost shell cracked. Then with a rough twist and a yank, it was removed.

It didn't take much longer to fully declaw the former lord. Once he was rendered harmless the chains were loosened, letting him fall to the ground. He felt a tug on his collar, and he started to crawl to avoid having his neck crushed by the iron band. Bloody hand and footprints were left where his extremities landed.

Tsernom held the leash, and Merlac walked behind them to make sure that their captive kept moving by prodding him with his severed finger-claws that had been crudely strapped to a paddle, which gave his rump and tail pinpricks of blood.

Dalkorrd felt them lead him down further through the dungeons, to some of the older wings. Opening a door he heard roars of a mass of people all rioting within their cells. "Sounds like they're ready." Tsernom smirked.

The former lord wondered who he was talking about when he was lead through the door, his knees scraping on the threshold.

"Dalkorrd!" Was the roar the crowd made as he entered the dungeon hallway. He recognized some of the voices. These were the cells that housed his former rivals, those he'd bested and punished for their goals and aims at his throne.

His ears were filled with insults and the shouts of vengeance. He shuddered as he realized that they'd all been informed that he was now one of them, trapped in the dungeons that they called home.

Merlac shouted and banged on the bars of the cage-like cells to quiet the racket that Dalkorrd's wounded body had caused. When the crowd had finally been silenced he spoke. "We'll be taking him into the torture chamber at the end of the hall. Each of you will be allowed in one by one, and when you're all inside we'll let you loose. Have your way with him, we care not for his safety, or his mental health."

With that the roars were renewed, this time as a cheer of triumph. They might not be free, but they would be free to take their revenge out on the one who'd imprisoned them. He planted his hands and feet, refusing to move even as the iron collar bit into his neck as Tsernom pulled on it.

Merlac slapped him with the paddle that had his claws stuck to it, and the action sent the masses to laughing at his plight as he was forced to march down the hall. Dalkorrd felt hands and claws groping at his body whenever he was lead too close to a cell, some touches were tender, like they were planning to use his body to sate their lusts, and others tried to draw blood as they dragged their claws against his leathery scales.

Finally he heard a door opening and was lead inside, the door shutting behind them. He was left in his blind darkness for a brief moment to himself as he heard Merlac and Tsernom preparing something.

"Up boy." Tsernom patted a stone table. Dalkorrd hesitated, he heard the table in front of him, but he had no way to know how far up or away it was from his place on the floor. He resented being talked down to like a feral, but he had no say in the matter, not without his eyes. Jumping up, he was shocked to feel himself land on the table without incident.

The moment of pitiful pride in his blind acrobatics was cut short as they forced him into position. He whimpered as they strapped him onto the table, his bloody back against the cold stone, and his arms and legs spread-eagle to each corner of the table. The former lord wished they would remove his gag, if only to ask why.

Once he was strapped in he heard the door open. He gulped audibly as he heard his former rivals begin to pour in one by one, each of them too eager to cause him pain to think about leaving the dungeons.

Tsernom and Merlac left then, shutting the door behind them, locking him in with the demons whom he'd imprisoned.

He expected them to pounce on him at once, but for some reason they held back. Then he felt a hand brush his sweaty mane, and lips pressed almost against his ear-hole.

"Hello little prince." He heard the voice next to his ear. Dalkorrd's heart began to pound as he recognized that voice. It was the voice of a nightmare-pegacorn, bred by his father's stables. The voice belonged to Porshion, his slain father's most trusted general.

"The throne would have gone to me upon his death, you were never worthy in his eyes. So this is for ruining my life, my future, and for destroying my foster father." Dalkorrd felt Porshion's thick finger probing his mouth, feeling the stub of his tongue. Huffing, he withdrew his finger. "No words? Shame. I was hoping to hear you beg for death tonight. We'll see if they'll let you speak next time you come to visit us."

With that the assembled demons set upon him. He screamed as he felt teeth and claws sinking into his flesh, chunks of his meat being torn away to be tossed aside or consumed by the mob. His limbs were stripped in seconds, and he felt them open his belly without any ceremony to begin pulling out his intestines, which they began to tear at as if they were noodles.

He felt hands reaching up under his ribs from the hole, to pull at his organs. It seemed that some were impatient to get at them though as others started to grip his ribs and rip them out, exposing his remaining guts.

The former lord drooled blood as his body slumped, his head swimming as his heart was bitten off by some unseen demon, leaving him a hollow mess, with barely any flesh left. The demons began to fight for the right to his head, tearing off the flesh and leaving it a bloody skull. There was moaning as Porshion won the prize, licking up the blood to leave it gleaming white. "I think I'll mount this on my wall. So if he can see next time, he'll be reminded of his fate." With that the others roared with morbid glee.