FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The two vast draconian muzzle that fills Ahastar's vision could almost be colour-inverted copies. One is coated smoothly in fine, snake-like scales of the purest white with emerald eyes of frightening intensity; the other is a rugged landscape of jet-black plates, horns and spikes, sporting ferocious reptilian eyes of luminous orange. They are Glare and Pyroclast respectively, dragons of ice and magma, and their intense interest in Ahastar is nothing short of nightmarish - especially given the raptor's helpless posture: arms and legs stretched out and utterly immobile against his unseen master's thick ebony foot pads.

"Can you feel him?" Pyroclast asks, blasting Ahastar with searing heat from his cavernous maw. The enormous dragon foot splays against the raptor's back, pulling Ahastar's limbs taut and almost dislocating them. "No," Bolt says from somewhere behind it, his deep voice rumbling through the great hindlimb to quiver against Ahastar's scales.

"What about when you step down?" says Glare, the ice dragon's own breath like a gust of winter wind. "A little, at first," Bolt replies. "But it takes only a few steps to crush his skeleton and pulverize his body. After that he makes no impression at all. As a pad impact dampener he performs poorly." The other two dragons nod seriously. Pyroclast lifts a forelimb and gently runs the smooth curve of a barrel-sized claw against Ahastar's trembling underside. "But as a fashionable adornment, I assure you he performs admirably."Bolt's voice rumbles again from behind the preferred hind paw. "There are so few demonics in this world. One must put them on display when one acquires them." Another voice hisses from behind the two looming muzzles, harsh, rasping and unfathomably deep. "If I may interject..."The black and white muzzles turn to look back at Smaug, who flickers his serpentine tongue distastefully. "Tantilising though the anticipation is, I would suggest that we forgo the customary preening, and rather spend our time crushing the little wretch to pulp."

Ahastar has already been stretched pretty tight beneath Bolts murder-padded, flop-rock-like hindsole, the massive chains holding the raptors wrists and ankles painfully which is why when the gargantuan dragon behind him is stretching his dangerously clawed toes out far and thus putting twice as much strain on the saurians limbs, Ahastar feels just about drawn and quartered; the raptors screech-pitch is of an according height. With his joints pounding and throbbing with pain, the half-demon collapses back powerlessly into Bolts paw-bondage again, breathing heavily. His exhausted, azure eyes quickly lift up again though to face the dual terror that is Pyroclasts sorry, PRINCE Pyroclasts and Glares high-contrast muzzle amalgamation. Their grey-black and white snouts respectively are pressed almost cheek to cheek, not because the two ancient draconian gods would care for very close physical contact, but because Ahastar is just so fucking tiny.

Pyroclasts ember-glowing eyes about make Ahastar melt. Glares icy-emerald eyes about make Ahastar freeze to a solid block of frost. Combined, they leave the raptor in a neutral aggregate state of fleshy raptor pile of fear. The fact that Pyroclasts gargantuan talon is coming over next to test-slide over Ahastars skin doesn't diminish the saurians raging terror, nor does the fact that Smaug pretty much impatiently requests his crushing doom! Ahastar is looking over to the Northern fire drake, which means he is now quivering under Smaugs gaze, Pyroclasts touch, and the agreeing rumble that Bolt is already letting out

"Patience has never been a trait associated with the Northern Drakes," Bolt says, a hint of amusement coloring his impressive voice. He is lying on his flank in the middle of his cavern's upper chamber, hindlimb stretched out before him to show off the raptor strapped tightly to his great, padded sole. Glare and Pyroclast lounge before him to either side and behind them sits Smaug, regal and coppery-red in all his looming splendour.

"Nor timeliness with Bronze dragons," the great wyvern replies.

All four of them are of a similar size, with Bolt standing at roughly 250' tall and 500 long (excluding his tail), and the others not far behind. In weight, they range between 800 and 1,000 metric tons.

"Very well," Bolt says, getting to his feet, an act that oh-so-casually whumps Ahastar face-down against the cave floor and squeezes him in under unfathomable weight. The mighty bronze sinks back to sit on his haunches and reaches down to unclasp the gold and iron straps that bind Ahastar to the bottom of his vast hind foot.

As the other dragons gather around to watch, Bolt slowly lifts his paw, using the chains to carefully peel Ahastar out of his ebony sole pads, then turning them over and spreading them apart to leave the raptor stretched out on his back, facing upward with the wight of the chains and straps holding his limbs fast. Just to be certain, Bolt also pushes thick iron pins through the end chain links, ensuring that neither raptor nor dragon foot will cause any unwanted movement.

Their victim thus immobilized, the four dragons indulge in a brief surveying of their victim. Each of them rears up onto hindlimbs only and steps forward to tightly frame the petrified raptor in the middle of a ring of their inward-facing hindpaws.

AAAYYYYYYEEEEEEE! Ahastar is screeching yet again the moment Bolt is moving his MONSTROUS paw around, with the raptor strapped tightly underneath it. The bondage-kept saurian has one brief moment in which to make out the rocky floor beneath his eyes quickly approaching, a second moment in which to realize that his arms are not responding to his desperate attempts at stretching them out for protection due to the chaining, and a third moment in which to feel his face CRUSHED straight into the unyielding soil, sending a fracture shockwave through his cranium! The fourth to seventeenth moments are then spent all but mating with the rock floor underneath, with just the tiniest movements of Bolts forcing Ahastar to thrust his skeleton down into the ground and there is a LOT of movement happening with the titanic bronze dragon unclasping the paw bondage device, right before the raptor feels himself being mercilessly pulled forwards on his wrist chains. His draconian master and owner barely lifts his hind foot up as he does so, which means Ahastar gets roughly ground out forwards between harsh stone soil and harsh sole padding.

The half-demon only has a few moments in which to loudly mourn his various fresh abrasions, before the incredibly strong draconian forepaw twists him over, then whip-lashes him down on the floor with his belly side up! THOOOOOOOOOOM! , Ahastars spine is slammed into the stone, the raptor getting his breath knocked out of him, eyes growing huge, muzzle opening wide right when Bolt is stretching the saurian spread-eagled to the floor. Slowly managing to regain his air again, Ahastar instantly holds it once more, this time with pure, draconian awe! The sight of these four titans reared up and standing in a circle around him is nearly frying the raptors mind! Their four muzzles peer down with sadistic glee, especially once Ahastar starts looking around their EIGHT titan clawfeet brought over closely for the saurian to get terrified about. The half-demon can feel the weight of those beasts around him even without them moving, mainly because the EARTH beneath the raptor is already begging for mercy!

Vast and godly, the reptilian monsters gaze down at the pinned raptor, expressions variously showing creamy-eyed anticipation, sneering aristocratic amusement, ferocious excitement and fiery, god-like disdain.

"If he comes loose, I get to stomp him," asserts Glare, fangs protruding as he hungrily drinks in the sight of the tiny white raptor trapped between the eight enormous dragon feet.

"If he comes loose, we all stomp on him," says Bolt. "But first a trample line, I think. Let him experience our soles individually, so he can better distinguish them later on."

There are growls of agreement and the dragons form a line, Pyroclast standing reared-up before Ahastar's twitching tailtip, with Glare behind him, followed by Smaug and finally Bolt.

"Leave no gaps," snarls Smaug, his wing arms spread for balance. "A worm such as this must see only the soles of his destroyers. It is worthy of nothing more."

The great black mass of Pyroclast's hind paw lifts, hard scale plates squeezing together to hide the glowing flesh beneath as the weight of the immense foot causes it to deform supply. The armored top side rises, revealing a smooth sole of firm, rounded scales, ash-grey and standing out prominently against the jet-black scales that frame it. The dragon prince lifts his enormous hind paw high above Ahastar's tiny white body, allowing the terrified raptor to get a good, long look at it, then he leans forward to stomp down with a snarl of furious exhilaration and an explosion of ruptured rock.

The sight of an ancient dragon trample line is simply unreal. Ahastar gazes at the ENDLESS row of giant reptilian bodies, limbs, wings, claws, glowing eyes, and barely manages to understand that this is indeed reality. Even parts of Pyroclasts as the very front dragon are already a bit blurry to the saurians eyes, with Bolt at the very end appearing more like some sort of bronze doom approaching far from the horizon, all of these monsters still reared up to the point where their horned skulls about scratch the ceiling. And here he lies, the half demon exposed, vulnerable, soft-fleshed, and helplessly stretched out. His body is shivering with terror, his eyes unable to blink, his lungs unable to draw breath, and finally his heart skipping a beat when Pyroclast lifts that first pulverizing hindpaw, the dragons still talking amongst themselves.

Ahastar can feel the heat of the royal dragons flesh, despite its sole being covered by ash-grey and a few black scales. There is rubble and sand raining down from the greedily stretching apart, three-toed expanse of the ancient-sized clawfoot. It is tough-scaled, furrowed by deep cervices and wrinkles matched with fine scales. It looks like the foot of a komodo dragon that grew to gargantuan sizes, had his foot become ten times as sturdy, and become the colour of a moving ash-and-obsidian heap. And just like that, the theorizing ends and things turn more practical for Ahastar: THOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!! - the raptor utterly disappears beneath the vast crush-foot, the chains that hold him down and now poke out at the edge of Pyroclasts firmly put down paw shuddering, bending upwards, steel aaaaaching. The ground splinters, shreds of stone angling upwards as the mighty sole is sinking down and down and DOWN. Ahastar beneath it is massively, murderously compacted, his skeleton caving in, flesh flattening, the raptor instantly being reduced to a fourth his original girth! Gnnnrrrrrghhhh!

Under the tons and tons of draconian weight, rock splinters and cracks, fissures snaking through it as it submits to the unopposable might of the dragon foot upon it. Ahastar's supple body is squeezed deep into the gaps in the rock, the gaps between sole scales and generally outwards. He flattens out like the meagre scrap of soft white flesh that he is, utterly helpless to prevent the crushing of his body beneath Pyroclast's vast black foot.

Quite aside from the pressure, the heat of the magma dragon's sole is utterly overwhelming. The rock around Ahastar has already begon to smoke even before the dragon prince eases his weight onto the ruptured raptor, an act that pops his remaining organs and squeezes the contents of his body flat in a way that neither solid nor liquid matter should compress.

The huge ebony hind foot starts to lift, rolling proudly upwards to reveal that murderous grey sole again, and beneath it, an utterly squashed raptor, scalded and smoking in the middle of a glowing magma dragon footprint. "Crushed under my royal feet," Pyroclast's voice summarises as the sole ascends, and it snickers harshly.

Ahastar's horizon goes from black to white as the vast, looming hindlimb of the first dragon glides out of his vision to reveal the impending sole of the second. Glare's broad, sturdy hind foot is already spreading eagerly above him, a wide, flattened ball and four short, thick toes that look almost as supple as the raptor's own flesh.

"Bye bye," the ice dragon sneers, then coldness envelops Ahastar as the vast sole descends, the ground hissing and cracking the instant before that great white hindpaw clubs down over him with a crunch and the tinkling of frozen debris.

The first fresh glimpse of light Ahastar gets to see again is reaching him from his pulverized tail. The would-be-sobbing-saurian, who has his tears of pain and pressure steamed away by the incandescent, lingering heat of the prince sole, is gazing over there, finding Pyroclasts foot slourp-steamrolling upwards from the digitigrade hell-heel area onwards. Unfortunately, that way for the royal dragon to remove his gargantuan foot means Ahastars gaze is quickly interrupted again, because he is pressure-shoving the unending ball of his sole straight through the raptors face on the giant dragons warpath! When the massive black beast has finally trampled his foot through the saurians muzzle, the raptor finally gets to see how he is looking. The result is none too sunny: He is SMASHED into a three-toed footprint, steaming and smoking with flicks of scorching, dry heat. His poor body is reduced nearly to flatness, and viciously carries Pyroclasts very intense soleprint pattern, Ahastars bruised flesh a zig-zag-pattern of negative scale imprints, wrinkle nets, reptilian flesh-cravings. Thus, when Pyroclast announces CRUSHED UNDER MY ROYAL FEET, the half-demon has no other choice but to agree with a whimper.

He doesnt have a lot of time to come to terms with his body having been transformed into a tattered, haggard raptor chewing gum spat out to the street and trampled into dragonfeet because the next sole is already approaching! The sight of the vast, ultra-supple expanse of Glares ice dragon paw is chilling Ahastar in more than one way. The saurians jaws are parting wide in a raging screech of terror, that AAAAAAAAAHHHHkkkkkkk is instantly interrupted the moment Glare tramples his massive, pearl whit dragonfoot down. Of all the beasts in attendance, the ice dragon has the most smothering paws which means a good part of his sole is instantly flooding AhastarÆs mouth while the rest of his massive foot is engulfing the small saurian, then invoking insane pressure and tonnage from every last direction, infusing Ahastar with weight!

Being squashed beneath the icy-white prison of Glare's sole is very much like being crushed under the firm grey scales of Pyroclast's own in one way - the pressure is catastrophic and unendurable, pound after pound of weight flowing onto Ahastar's defeated, surrendering body until they finally stop somewhere around the two million mark, a thousand tons of pristine, white dragon now standing fully on top of its overwhelmed victim.

In every other way however, being under Glare's foot couldn't be more different from being under Pyroclast's. Where the magma dragon scalds, the ice dragon freezes, his supple white sole squeezing out over the rock to vacuum seal Ahastar in a tight, immobilising layer of smooth cold flesh. Only pressure prevents him from shivering himself apart, there being enough of that to squeeze the impression of the ice dragon's foot over the top of Pyroclast's own steaming footprint and send still more cracks stabbing out through the ruptured, frosty ground.

As the pressure eases off and the vast white sole begins to roll upwards, Ahastar's disbelieving eyes are treated to the sight of an immense, leathery Smaug sole, wreathed in searing dragonflame as the Northern Drake cruelly heats up his own hind paw. Thick, rounded toes splay and flex, causing creases to snake across the tough sole flesh, then they stretch out meaningfully and Smaug's voice snarls, "To think I might have spared you the suffering and humiliation of punishment under these, had your owner not shared his secret. And yours."

A snort of fiery exhileration and the superheated hindpaw comes plunging down over Ahastar with a wet smack and a billow of steam.

SCCHLLLRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP - it is either because of the severe temperature differential or because of the smothering nature of Glares ultra-supple dragonsole, but when the frost-god is removing his titanic foot from Ahastar, he does so with a peeling noise so overwhelming it would rip apart the raptors eardrums, if his face and thus ears wasnt currently in the process of being crushed by the upwards-rolling, white dragonpaw. The raptor is down in his ever-deepening footprint-crater-grave, twitching, flattened, a single bruise of a body, twisted, crushed, mangled. He is gurgling with pain and pressure, and his head is still moving, dangerously tugging along with the ice dragons leave-taking tramplefoot that is because Ahastar still has a way too big portion of Glares smother-sole-flesh inside his mouth! After thoroughly tasting the dragons tread, the saurian now needs to spit out all this supple hide if he doesnt want to be decapitated one after one, Glares foot-flesh is disengaging from Ahastars prickly teeth, before finally, that paw is gone for good. It leaves behind a second layer of footprints in the raptors body, right over Pyroclasts royal crushmarks.

And still, the groaning, whimpering half-demon only has one brief moment in which to despair over his second layer of domination-prints because his attention is instantly taken up by the sight of RAGING flame flickering around and in between the odd-four toes of a Northern fire dragon. It would be a spectacular show, wouldnt the leathery sole of that doom-promising foot with its hungrily twitching toes be aimed right at Ahastar! Mustering up all of his strength to lift up a single, shivering hand slowly, begging and pleading for help, the raptor shakes his muzzle in denial, barely just managing one final, praying whimper before Smaugs sadistic foot STOMPS down into him, INSTANTLY replacing the sight of a well-crushed raptor with a gargantuan dragonfoot that is still partially on fire, and shaking the earth!

The inferno of Smaug's sole causes yet more catastrophic temperature changes to surge through Ahastar's body, further wrecking his pulverized skeleton and internal organs. But while the intense heat subsides slightly from its unnaturally high levels, the pressure only increases, more and more of the fire drake's millions of pounds of weight flowing cruelly, relentlessly onto the squashed raptor. Huge draconian toes crunch down another few feet into the splintered rock, pressing their own 5-toed print over the top of those of Pyroclast and Glare.

Under the tough, leathery sole, Ahastar's semi-liquefied body is forced to squeeze into the grooves in the dragon's thick sole flesh, flowing and oozing like a glob of tar as the heavy, supple sole squeezes remorselessly down on him.

"You have nothing," Smaug intones, glaring down the length of his body at the hindfoot burying Ahastar. "Only pain and pressure and the promise of more. How I enjoy treading on you, wrrrretch."

The crater left behind as Smaug's huge foot peels up from the ruined ground is a monument to dragon dominance: three distinct draconian footprints punched into the rock and at the dead center of them all, a tiny, squashed raptor. Overwhelmed and utterly defeated, but granted no quarter by the pitch black pads of Bolt's sole, looming up above him as Smaug's own flauntingly pulls away.

With its tough bronze plates giving way to pale, fine scales that neatly coat the sole, the bottom of Bolt's hind paw would already look stark and well defined; in addition to this variation though, thick, tough pads of the deepest ebony adorn his four broad toes and the wide, strong ball behind them. A pad covers his digitigrade heel and another covers the sole of his short hallux toe, all coming together to create an impression of immense strength and simple, rugged power. There can be no arguing against a hind paw as powerful as Bolt's, and no resisting it when it descends upon you.

Bolt doesn't say anything as he stomps on Ahastar, just bares his fangs slightly in a look of withering disdain.

The crater Ahastar lies in after Smaug pulls his cruel, sadistic, EVIL foot out of the decimated, blood and bile-gurgling raptor is a disaster zone and a marvel both. The disaster is coming from the way the floor is shattered, the stone absolutely broken to single slabs, with pulver-rubble in between. There is dust wafting through the air, and the soil is torn apart in a way that suggests ancient dragons didnt simply tread here, they STOMPED here. The sheer size of that crater nearly makes Ahastar vanish even if he wouldnt be halfway flat and halfway embedded into the ground, dead in the middle.

But as mentioned, that smashed in print is also a marvel because despite the three dragonfeet having trampled on top of it being so diverse, their individual paw-shapes are still somewhat able to be made out: Here are the smouldering, classic, three-toed imprints of Pyroclast. There are the broad-reaching, ball-sole heavy marks of Glare. And there is the distinctive, five-toed seal of burning domination stomped into by Smaug, the Magnificent. And all three of these print styles get utterly PULVERIZED when Bolt wordlessly PILE DRIVES his army-crushing, castle-obliterating, making sand out of boulders warpaw DOWN on top of it, and the meagre portions of flesh in the middle still trying to be a raptor. Ahastar simply just disappears beneath the trampling tread of his owner-master, the disdainful, growling-grumpy dragon god of crushing devastatingly supercolliding the very centre of his slab-metal-like walking pad precisely into Ahastars face as the epicentre of that stomping impact. The raptors groin is busy, too, though and Bolt is the first dragon of the night that tramples the little saurian into a squashed out orgasm, straight into his. padded sole.