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Draconicon's Rule 34 Harem Chapter 3: A Purple Toy Sponsored by Sanmer By Draconicon

With the turtles under his thumb and sent back to his city, Draconicon knew that he needed something that was capable of patrolling his home. Someone that could go from rooftop to rooftop, being the eyes in the sky and the fire upon those that would disturb his people.

And for that, there was little better choice than a certain purple dragon.

He opened the portal to the Artisan Homeworld, several universes off from the prime one, one where the young dragon had grown up before he had to fight against Gnasty Gnorc. After all, it wouldn't do to go for someone that was so young as he was in his main line, and more than that...

Well, he only had so much time, so 'teaching' someone to be under him wasn't exactly something he could afford to do. Just as with the turtles, he had to move quickly and then move on.

He had scarcely stepped out of his portal before he was approached by one of the adult dragons, however. Soft green scales on the arms and head, a leather vest, a gem around his neck: they screamed 'Nestor' to anyone that had seen this world before. Draconicon smiled, bowing his head gently to the head of the Artisans.

"Greetings," he said.

"You arrive in a strange way, fellow dragon," the other said. "And I can't say that I know you. You're from one of the other worlds, aren't you?"

He smiled. It was a little easier to avoid lying here, considering the way that the dragons were set up. They had to go from one world to another either by ballooning or by portaling, so, his way of getting here wasn't as obviously strange as it was before.

"Yes, that would be correct."

"From which world do you hail?"

"One you have never seen."

"Do you wish us harm?"

Doubtlessly, Nestor thought that the question was more subtle than it was, but there was no missing the way that the green dragon gripped his hammer, nor the way that his eyes narrowed slightly. And no wonder, considering what they had just been through.

But he only smiled, shaking his head.

"Not at all. If anything, I wish you good times."

"Well...That is good, then."

The other dragon relaxed, and Draconicon took a step forward, enjoying the feeling of the grass underfoot. Compared to the sewers of the other world, this was a massive step up.

Nestor turned, gesturing for him to follow, and the black dragon did as he was bid. As he fell in step beside the other dragon, he opened his robe slightly, allowing the powerful pheromones gathered within to start drifting free. The other dragon didn't seem to notice, save for a slight shake of his head.

"Do you know our world?" Nestor asked.

"Not as well as I would like."

"Allow me to give you a tour. We'll start at the waterfall, shall we?"

"I'd suggest the labyrinth, actually," he said, with a nod towards the green growth not too far down the hill.

"You are the guest. Please. Allow me to...lead you..."

There was the first little slur of words, the first sign that the dragon was already dipping down. The black dragon smiled, allowing himself to be led forward. As they left the hill, other dragons were already turning to watch, some cocking their heads to the side in curiosity, others wondering, perhaps, why their leader was acting as a tour guide.

It would come clear, soon enough. He had no plans to harm the other dragons, after all, but merely to abscond with one of their number. He just needed to do something to lure Spyro out into the open.

As they stepped into the green corridors of the leafy maze, the dragon opened his robe that little bit further, the scent of his musk getting stronger now that there was nowhere for it to go and no wind to blow it away. He let his wings fan it out, and Nestor groaned. The other dragon stumbled forward a few steps, his eyes hazy.

"What...what are you doing?"

"Just making sure that things go my way," the black dragon said. "After all, I did come here for a reason."

"You said...you said you wished no..."

"And I don't wish any harm on you."

Draconicon smiled, slowly opening his robe all the way, his cock flopping free, the great length already starting to rise, the head damp with pre-cum and filling the air with the pheromones that Nestor had already started falling prey to. The other dragon looked at him through eyes growing ever more glazed, and the black dragon gripped the base of his shaft, giving it a hard squeeze.

As pre-cum started to dribble from the head of his shaft, he used his tail to gesture the other dragon forward, and Nestor dropped to his knees before the black dragon. The head of the Artisans opened his mouth, his tongue slowly uncoiling.

"I'm not bringing any harm. Pleasure, and perhaps a little corruption, but mostly..."

He gently pushed the other dragon down, sighing happily as he felt that warm mouth around his shaft. Going up on tiptoes, he dragged the head of his cock against the other dragon's tongue, ensuring that every drop of pre landed right where it was supposed to go.

"Mostly...bliss."

Nestor groaned, his eyes fading, going white like his own eyes. The mind was still there, would come out again once the dragon had time to be away from the pheromones, but for now, the weak-minded one was completely under the black dragon's control.

A little twinge plucked at the dragon's conscience, leaving him shaking his head. It wasn't a permanent thing, and it wasn't something that he planned on doing for long. And besides, the Artisan would be compensated for this.

He wasn't a monster, after all.

After bringing Nestor down to a proper mindset, it didn't take long to get the others of the Artisan world. Delbin, Tomas, Argus, all were easy to pull down as Nestor brought them back to the maze one by one. The longer that Draconicon stayed in the maze, the stronger that his scent became, and likewise, the stronger his powers over the minds of others. He smiled to himself as he watched each dragon eventually fall to their knees, offering their mouths and their white-eyed, hypnotized faces to him.

It was a powerful achievement to bring them down so fast, but he knew that it would not be so easy on the hero that he had come to claim. Spyro would have more resistance, more power to hold himself back, but with the other dragons on his side, it wouldn't be so easy for the other dragon to get away.

More to the point, he would be eager to come when called. He would want to see what had happened to his friends, his counselors, the people that he had saved in his adventurers. He would want to be the hero again.

Not that he would have much chance of that, but there was always the possibility.

Draconicon had set up a small throne of rock and earth upon the hill, getting comfortable on it as the other dragons sat about him. Nestor and Delbin sat at his feet, one of them each licking at his toes, while the other two - fat Argus and old Tomas - stood at his sides, looking like advisors or guards. Not that he needed either. They reached down, rubbing along his arms in a way that wasn't quite worshipful, but definitely was more than the usual bits of affection such people would show to their master.

The only thing that kept them from blowing him as he sat in the throne was the command that he had placed in their heads, a reminder that they were not to take the initiative against anything or anyone, to do anything that he did not directly command. It was a bit of a risk, but it was something that he needed to do to make sure that they were ready should Spyro come down more aggressively.

Plus, he was fairly sure that Spyro wouldn't be so willing to listen to him if he was being sucked off by two other dragons while he was talking about how the dragons would be safe and secure here.

The black dragon leaned back, looking up at the skies, searching for the little purple dot that would eventually show up. It took him about ten minutes to find it, but once he did, he didn't take his eyes off of the legendary dragon.

Spyro came in for a hard landing at the base of the hill, thumping into the ground with all the force that a larger feral dragon could summon. He was definitely bigger than he was in the prime universe, having grown to his full adult age before he was sent off to fight Gnasty. He was probably up to the dragon's chest if he lifted his head, slightly over the waist if he didn't. In length, Spyro was probably slightly longer than the black dragon was tall, but that was to be expected for the feral creatures.

And more than that, he was definitely on the angry side, glaring up the hill and snorting smoke from his nose.

"What the heck is going on here, guys?! What the heck are you doing?"

None of the older dragons answered him, continuing their rubbing and licking ministrations of their new master. Draconicon smiled, fanning out his toes as Nestor and Delbin continued licking between them, resting his hands on their heads.

"Don't worry about them, Spyro. They'll be back to normal once I leave."

"What did you do to them? Do I have to flame you just like I did Gnasty?"

"You could, but it wouldn't do you any good."

"Yeah? Then I can chase you around and gore you on my horns."

"You could try that, but I doubt that would work either." He held up his hand, and just like that, shimmered and twisted space and time with his magic. "After all, I am rather more...skilled...than anyone that you've faced before."

Spyro jumped, the purple feral turning to face him. He breathed in, and Draconicon smiled.

Twist, shimmer.

Twist, shimmer.

Twist, shimmer.

Every time that Spyro breathed in to spit fire, the mage twisted the world around him, flicking through space and time, dragging himself from one location to another. It was easy enough to do, something that he had expected, considering the richness of magic in these worlds. It wouldn't have been quite so easy in others.

When Spyro turned around, sucking in another gulp of air, Draconicon shook his head. Instead of teleporting, he reached out and grabbed the purple dragon by the snout, and squeezed.

The sudden puff of smoke and flames blasted back against Spyro's mouth, forced to burn against his tongue and down his throat. The smaller dragon groaned, whimpering softly as he fought to pull his head back.

"Where's Sparx, by the way?" he asked, looking around. "Don't you have your little buddy?"

"Mmmph..."

"Heh, I imagine that he'd be rather blue right now, wouldn't he? Rather aching from that little stunt that you just pulled."

"..."

"Or would he be green? Or did you come here while he was already nothing but a little green dot?"

The latter seemed to be the case. The purple dragon glared up at him, but not enough to really fight back. He wasn't so angry as he was surprised, and why wouldn't he be? The black dragon knew his own skills, and he knew what Spyro had faced in his previous adventures. There was really no comparison when one got right down to it.

He chuckled, finally releasing the purple dragon's snout, allowing him to breathe normally. A puff of smoke left his mouth, obviously more than he had been ready for, because he coughed like hell for a few seconds to clear his mouth.

Draconicon, on the other hand, started walking in a circle around him, drawing a line in the dirt with his tail. He kept humming to himself as he walked, shaking his head.

"Now, as long as I just have you here, I'd suggest you pay attention. I came here to get someone very skilled for a particular job I need filling."

"What are you talking about? I'm just the hero here. I fix things when they get broke."

"And that's what you're going to do for me. You're going to make sure that things get fixed before they get broke."

He finished the circle, punctuating the line he had drawn with a quick stab of his tail. The purple dragon followed him around, watching him, shaking his head.

"I don't get it. And I don't get you."

"That's fine. You'll have time to start getting me, soon."

"What - hey!"

A tendril of earth and stone had risen from the circle, wrapping around the dragon's hind leg. Another joined it, wrapping around the other back leg, while others leaped up, grabbing for Spyro's neck and forelegs. The dragon jumped and jerked, huffing and puffing smoke at it, but the fire and the heat wasn't enough to burn through rock.

Draconicon smiled, walking around the smaller dragon, brushing him with his tail.

"You see, Spyro. I know what you were doing when you weren't saving dragons."

The purple dragon went stock-still, slowly turning his head to look back at the black dragon. Draconicon smiled.

"Oh yes. There's many stories about the hero out there, but do you know what they would say if they heard the truth?"

"You...you wouldn't..."

"Oh, wouldn't I?"

He smiled as he sat down, rubbing the hypnotized heads of Nestor and Delbin, feeling the hands of the other dragons coming back to him. They were rubbing down his arms, up and down, but their eyes were fixed on his crotch.

"Unrobe me," he told them, and the hypnotized, musk-drunk dragons did just that, pulling his robes open.

As Spyro was turned in his root bindings to see what was going on, the surprise on the purple dragon's face was evident. He probably had expected to see a bit of a hint of a cock, but not something like this.

The black dragon fondled himself, pulling at his shaft as it throbbed to life. A full thirteen inches in length, the massive spire of flesh was thick enough to have trouble wrapping his hand around. The different dragons were there for that, and they were eager, their nostrils flaring as his musk was released once more.

The four of them moaned, their cocks bobbing in unison as they breathed in their master's scent. Spyro, on the other hand, looked at him like he had unveiled some great mystic truth.

"I know how you were treated by the gnorcs, Spyro," the dragon said. "I know what you did, what you learned to do. Putting that muzzle to use to get by the big ones. Putting that ass out to play when they started assembling in numbers too big to fight. Heh. I imagine that Gnasty thought that he was going to get a good bit of fun when you reached him."

"I was a real hero then!" Spyro protested. "I actually fought him!"

"Yes, you did, cum-covered and slippery with sweat as you were," he teased. "You can fight, but we both know what you really want to do. What you really want to do for others.'

Draconicon flicked his cock back and forth, pre-cum flowing to the tip and then back down to the rest of the shaft. The thick musk of his rod and his balls filled the air, and the other dragons were deep in their own needy trance. He could probably have stepped on their balls, flicked their cocks up and down with his toes, commanded them to cum, and they'd have climaxed on demand.

But that wasn't what he wanted, much as he could have had it. He wanted Spyro.

He gestured with a finger, and the various tendrils lifted the dragon off the ground, holding him in a tentacle net. They twisted and turned him until he was suspended upside-down, his wings pinned together, tied up, and his legs forced in the air. The purple dragon groaned, his cheeks flushing in obvious embarrassment, but there was nothing that he could do to fight against it.

"I'm here to offer you a job that lets you do both. You get to be a hero, and you get to be fucked like the little slut that the gnorcs started training you to be," he said, smiling softly. "I can make sure that you get everything that you want. Everything you need. Cocks every night, maybe even a pussy or two if you're interested. But something tells me that both your holes just want to be filled to the brim with a hot, musky...cock..."

It was all but confirmed as he watched Spyro's asshole twitch and flex, begging for something to slide inside and take it. The sight of it, the way that it was constantly squirming, clenching, going tight then loose then tight again, confirmed that the hero wanted to be used like a slut.

Yet, there was still just enough pride to make him resist. The black dragon rolled his eyes as he saw the squirming tugs at his bindings, at the way that Spyro bit at some of the tendrils that were closest to him.

"I'm not some slut. I saved the dragon worlds, and I can save them again. I'll save them from you."

"How? By making me too exhausted to do anything?"

"If I have to!"

"Spyro, the only chance you have of beating me is by out-fucking me, and let me tell you right now. That's not happening."

"Let me go, and we'll find out!"

"You just had a free run of trying to take me down. Do you really think that it'll go any better if I actually do anything to fight back?"

The purple dragon continued to glare at him, but there was no response that time. Instead, he just glared, his mouth wordlessly trying to come up with a response.

Draconicon looked down at his claws, nodding at Nestor as the head of the Artisans looked at his cock. The green dragon leaned forward, giving it a long, slow suck, and the little shiver that ran down the other dragon's back made it very, very clear that he was enjoying the taste, the flavor, everything that he was offered.

By the time that he popped his mouth back off the black dragon's cock, the whole thing was shiny and shimmering, looking nice and wet and a bit slimy. Draconicon slapped it against Nestor's face, then looked back at Spyro.

"Tell you what. If you can take it long enough to get me off before I get you off, I'll let you fight me. Fight me proper, that is. But if you finish before I do, then you have to come along with me, and we'll call it done there. Fair enough?"

"More than fair!" Spyro said, smirking. "I can take anything you can throw at me."

"Heh, we'll see. But first..."

He reached into the pockets of his robes, pulling out two little rings. They would normally have been put on someone's fingers or toes, but Spyro was a bit too big for that. However...

He stood up from his throne, walking over to the dragon's head, his cock bobbing and bouncing as he walked. Spyro turned his head, but even with his resistance, the purple dragon's cheeks burned a little hotter as the dragon moved closer. One, two, three breaths, and Draconicon could see a little bulge starting to push out from between the hero's hind legs.

"See these?" he asked, holding up the rings.

"Yeah?"

"These are going to be part of the game."

"You didn't say that was part of the deal."

"I didn't say it wasn't, either."

Grabbing Spyro by the horns, he tilted the purple dragon's head until he could access the points properly. He slid one ring on, pushing it down until it was nice and firmly locked to the pointed thing.

As soon as the band was properly filled, it flared with light, blossoming into something bright and beautiful. Green and gold runes flared along the band, and Spyro gasped, his eyes going wide, his cock growing harder, thicker.

"What the - gah! Agh!"

"I call them 'fetish rings,'" the dragon said. "After all, a hero is supposed to be strong and powerful. It wouldn't be fair for me to try and break your will without having something of an advantage."

"Why...what did...oh the chains...I can't...move..."

"No, you can't."

"I'm...helpless."

The blush at that word said it all. The dragon was no longer worried, but turned on at the whole situation of being tied up.

That was part of the fun, though. Draconicon had made a number of the different fetish rings, each one containing a different sort of tweak for someone's mind. After all, if he wanted people to enjoy being under his feet, sometimes he needed to make sure that they were okay with playing with feet in the first place.

Or with rimming.

Or with bondage.

Or with any number of kinks, for that matter. In this case, it was a ring that made the dragon enjoy being tied up, being helpless, of being the 'captured' hero that could be used over and over and over again. It would make it a lot harder for him to feel bad about being tied up, and probably make him all the more eager to stay that way.

Spyro was obviously less happy, less enthused about his chances to win now, but that wasn't Draconicon's problem. The black dragon smirked, holding up the other ring, rolling it between his fingers.

"Want to take a guess what this one will do?"

"Nnngh...I don't know, but come on! This isn't fair!"

"You think I care?"

Twiddling the ring between his fingers for a few more seconds, he debated whether it was too much to push another fetish into the other dragon's brain. He could probably win easily even with just the one, and he had no doubt that he could beat Spyro in a 'fair' fight if he was wrong.

At the same time, why take the risk?

He jammed the other ring down on Spyro's head, watching as it lit up just like the first one. Just like before, the dragon gasped, his eyes going wide, and the purple dragon's cock got harder and harder just like before.

"And now, you have a size queen fetish," the dragon said with a chuckle. "How's it feel to be looking up at me now?"

He barely had to ask, considering that Spyro's cock was oozing pre all the way down his belly, dripping like mad without even being touched. The power of the rings was clear, and he had to admit, it was an encouraging sign. It meant that he could do what he liked, if he really wanted to.

It meant that he could help others be happy with the roles he had in mind for them. A few little gifts, a few little corruptions, and even if they were hesitant at first, they'd be quick to drop their hesitations to indulge in their new perversions.

He stroked his finger down the purple dragon's body, running it from neck to belly to crotch as he walked along Spyro's suspended, bound sides. He slapped his cock against the dragon's hind legs, then pushed them further apart, looking at the little pucker that rested just under the tail.

"Looks like you're just begging to be fucked now. How does it feel, hero? How does it feel to be more helpless than you ever were under the gnorcs?"

"Nnngh..."

"You like it, don't you? You like having someone that can make you completely helpless, completely under their power..."

He slid his cock forward, grinding it along the underside of the other dragon's tail, the thick, wet head nudging against that pucker. The ring of flesh twitched in anticipation for him, clenching tight before relaxing again. Draconicon smiled, sliding forward, back, forward, back, nudging it again and again, feeling Spyro twitching against him, gasping, clenching his teeth and whimpering.

The tentacles reached up from below, spreading the purple dragon's cheeks for him, making the hole itself spread a bit wider. He could tell that it had had some experience before, could see that the gnorcs had done a number on it, taught it the way of fucking. Even so, the head of his cock was wide enough that he knew it would spread that little pucker good and far, give it a reminder of how it felt to be on the bottom.

He slid forward and back, forward and back, each little nudge bringing him that much closer to penetration.

"Feel how big that is?" he teased. "You sure you can take it?"

"Nnngh...I can...I can take...anything," Spyro muttered. "You..."

"I what? Have the biggest cock you've taken so far? So big that it'll wreck you for anyone smaller, so big that it'll put the gnorcs to shame and leave you begging if you don't get it regularly?"

The purple dragon moaned, arching his back against his restraints. Just as he did, just as he whimpered from the humiliation, the black dragon pushed forward.

The soft 'pop' of flesh sliding into flesh was perfect, and Spyro moaned at the top of his lungs as he was finally given what he needed. The black dragon pushed forward faster, sliding his cock deeper and deeper, using all the spit that the other dragons had given him from various blowjobs to slide in. Spyro moaned with every inch, dignity forgotten.

More to the point, his cock was throbbing, twitching, the purple dragon's rod bouncing up and down like it was a little toy on the verge of exploding. He chuckled, not even bothering to touch it as he set up a rhythm, working himself back and forth, back and forth, slowly sinking his cock past that pucker and then pulling it free again. One pop after another, going in, coming out, going in, coming out.

"That's it. That's what you are, isn't it, Spyro? A good little cock slut. Haven't had enough since the gnorcs, have you? Not enough dragons around that are rough enough to fuck you properly. Not enough big dicks among the dragons."

He smirked.

"Or is it that you didn't want them to know...that you had to be the hero that did it all nobly?"

"Nnngh...fuck..."

Spyro was beyond speech, the feral dragon curling his toes, kicking idly, his cock twitching up and down as it sprinkled pre all over his stomach. Draconicon shifted his thrusts idly, pushing his cock down, making it hit the other dragon's prostate.

Spyro gasped, his eyes going wide as he suddenly clenched down.

"Almost came there, didn't you?" he teased. "I bet you'll cum soon. Let's try that again, hmm?"

Another thrust, another long, slow, milking thrust that put full pressure on the other dragon's prostate for the entirety of the slow movement. One long rub that pushed that cock to throb and vibrate from just how close it was. The purple dragon whimpered, shaking his head as fast as he could, trying to deny how close to the edge he was.

"And another..."

The black dragon pulled back, giving another long, slow, gliding thrust against his captive's prostate, milking it, teasing it, working it. Another throb, another vibration, another spittle of pre.

"And one...more..."

He didn't even finish it. The moment the head of his cock touched Spyro's prostate again, the purple dragon let out a loud roar, cumming hard right on the spot. He came, came, and came some more, shooting long ropes of cum along his belly, over his neck, all the way up to his face. It was like he couldn't stop cumming, blowing his load all over himself.

Draconicon chuckled, pulling his cock free of that eager little hole. He shook his head, slapping his shaft against the other dragon's leg.

"Looks like I win the bet."

With the purple dragon panting for breath, he released the spell, allowing him to fall back to the ground in gradual steps. He shook his head. That had been particularly easy, but he imagined that Spyro would complain a bit later.

At the same time, he knew that the little guy would follow through on his debts, going along with the bet for now because that was what heroes did, and Spyro was nothing if not a hero.

He gave his cock a couple of strokes, oozing some pre out onto the other dragon's balls and over his cock. It wasn't much, but it was a marker of musk, a means of showing ownership to the others that had joined his little harem of service. Those that smelled like the dragon were to be welcomed.

As Spyro slowly came back to his senses, he looked up with a different sort of expression on his face. Draconicon recognized it quickly, not as worship or admiration, but rather a hunger. Shameful hunger, almost, but the rings on the feral dragon's head made sure that he wasn't going to be complaining about it, or denying it.

"You...you're better than the gnorcs, alright."

"Told you."

"So...what are you going to make me do?"

"Oh, a lot of things in the bedroom. Outside it, I'm going to have you fly around a city, keep an eye out for anything back, and burn troublemakers to a crisp."

"...You know, maybe I should have listened to the deal at the start, because that sounds fun."

"Dick and dickery?"

"You know it."

Draconicon chuckled, patting the purple dragon on the head. He raised his hand, his magic calling forth a portal.

"Let's head home."

"What about the Artisans?"

"Take a look."

Behind them, the Artisans were already coming back to normal, and their attention seemed to be entirely on the throne that the black dragon had vacated, covered as it was with gems and gold and jewels.

"Don't say that I don't pay my debts..."

The End