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Sorath's arms trembled. He fought to keep his grip steady, though the rock crumbled beneath his fingers and threatened to drop him back onto the ledge fifty feet below -- and he wasn't even sure if that ledge would hold his weight. It had been almost miraculous to begin with, a thin strip of rock on which he could rest after climbing for nearly seven hours. Exhaustion had nearly claimed him, but he'd forced himself to continue after a half-hour of rest. The rock wasn't so stable that he would risk staying there for longer, no matter how much he wished he could.

Sweat dripped from his palms, making it even harder to grip onto the tiny crevices in the face of the rock. He hadn't had the money to buy a stamina potion -- not even a Featherfall potion, which would make the climb less nerve-wracking, though it wouldn't make the climb easier. He hadn't had the money to buy the powder he'd seen more experienced adventurers use when going on a climb, even though it was worth at most a single silver coin.

Not even all his armor together would be worth a single silver coin, he thought bitterly. Perhaps the artifact in his bag... but no; that was a gift, and not one he would lose lightly.

It hadn't always been like this for Sorath. He'd been a moderately successful adventurer, once, raiding dungeons and carrying out loot that was -- well, it wasn't anything particularly valuable, but he had made enough to live comfortably.

Then his brother had taken ill. His brother, a far more successful adventurer than he -- a man who had climbed into the Cursed Depths and returned alive, with artifacts worth a dozen gold coins each. It was strange to see him as anything less than the loud, boisterous man he'd known all his life, and yet there he was, rotting away. His body was slowly eating away at itself, the healers had told him.

It was a curse, but not one any mage knew how to cure. Healing magic only seemed to make him worse, and the best alchemists could only alleviate the pain and delay the symptoms. The best of cursebreakers and dispellers could do nothing against it; their magic slid off the curse like it wasn't even there, and as they searched and searched for a cure, their money -- and options -- had begun to dwindle.

And now here he was, chasing a dream.

There were many rumours about the High Dragon that lived at the top of this mountain -- tales of the wishes he would grant to any worthy mortal, should they brave the climb up to his lair. There were even tales of successes, though those legends were dated, old; it had been centuries since the last adventurer had returned with his prize. Now those that left seeking riches simply... never returned, save for the meagre few that refused to speak of what had transpired.

Sorath wondered, not for the first time, if the dragon had been replaced by some other entity through the years. It was impossible, surely; no force known to the world could defeat a High Dragon -- but what else was there to explain the disappearances, the refusal of those surviving few to speak? Sorath had his doubts, but this was his last remaining hope.

He'd always been terrible at giving up his hopes.

Gritting his teeth, Sorath clutched at an outcropping and flung his body upwards, swinging just enough to let his fingers reach the next foothold. His arms screamed in protest, and there was a single, terrifying moment in which he thought he'd fall -- his fingers slipped, and a rock he'd thought to be firm crumbled to dust beneath his feet -- he felt almost weightless for a single instant, as his adrenaline spiked and time slowed and he scrambled for a grip --

And he was steady again. His heart pounded in his chest, and he dared not let go to wipe the sweat from his eyes.

Climb on, he told himself, and so he did. Sorath wasn't sure how long he climbed, only that his throat was dry with thirst and his fingers flecked with blood by the time he reached the dragon's lair. He collapsed the moment he pulled himself over the edge, panting heavily; the air was cold and thin here, two thirds of the way up the mountain.

Sorath let himself lie there for a solid half-hour, letting his muscles get some much-needed rest. He was close to his goal, and some part of him wanted to barge in there, begging for the dragon's aid -- but he knew his limits, and he had long since exceeded them. He would have slept, but he knew the risks of falling asleep. The mountaintop was cold, the weather unpredictable, and the air thin.

So he forced himself to his feet once he felt he was capable, finding his muscles surprisingly rested despite the short break -- reinvigorating magic that suffused the mountaintop, perhaps? It wasn't something he felt like questioning. Sorath took a breath, glanced at the cave, and quashed his nerves.

Dragons were powerful creatures, and there was no guarantee that this one was still there. Sorath wasn't sure he wanted to face down anything capable of taking down a dragon, but he reminded himself that his brother would have done no less for him, and he strode forward.

The first thing Sorath noticed was that the cave was warm.

It was a startling difference. The air was freezing one moment, then warm the next; he could feel the boundary of heat as he crossed the entrance to the cave. Stranger, perhaps, was that the air was humid: there was a wetness that stuck to the skin, an odd, almost-repulsive dampness. It made Sorath shudder for a moment before he clamped down on his reaction and soldiered onward; whatever the dragon had done to the place, there was... surely... a reason...

That was not a dragon.

Sorath was suddenly aware of the huffing growl that he'd subconsciously dismissed as an odd effect of the wind, the squeals of pleasure that had somehow escaped his notice. He heard the lewd, wet smacks of flesh on flesh, the squelch of seed being forced out of a body to small to hold it all. The musk that filled the air was almost suffocating, and Sorath barely prevented himself from gagging and drawing notice to himself. That he hadn't noticed it before was -- probably magic.

Which alarmed him. He had no protections against magic of this sort; he was an adventurer, not a mage.

Sorath's instincts screamed at him to do something -- run, fight, it didn't matter as long as he was doing more than just standing there -- but the sight in front of him was so jarring that his body refused to obey him. He wasn't sure what he was seeing, only that it shouldn't have been possible.

Before Sorath were two creatures. One of them was a kobold, of the weaker sort he'd occasionally seen scurrying around the island -- pale green scales, and yellowish markings that trawled a lean and slender body.

The other was perhaps vaguely dragon-shaped, if one could stretch the definition; he had the snout of one, and his body was built like a dragon's. On the other hand, dragons weren't known to stand on two legs. They weren't known to have tentacles rising from their backs like sentient feelers, waving around in the air. They weren't known to have pitch-black bodies that seemed more slime and shadow than it did scale and flesh.

They certainly weren't known to stand on those two legs, four tentacles holding a kobold's limbs spread and keeping it steady in the air, one paw gripped around his body -- and it was large enough to wrap nearly around the kobold's entire torso -- and fuck them until their stomach distended with the sheer size of their lengths.

It was almost mesmerizing to watch. The kobold was astonishingly flexible, his stomach warping around the length like it was made for it. And he was clearly enjoying himself, if his squeals of pleasure were any indication. They were punctuated by short huffs of air as the sheer size of the not-dragon forced air from his lungs with every thrust. His cock was leaking and drooling beneath him, a puddle of precum collecting on the rocky floor, smeared through by streaks of seed, as if the kobold had already cum multiple times.

As he watched, the kobold jerked -- more than he was already being jerked forward by the dragon's thrusts -- whined, and came again, shuddering as a tendril teased along the length of his cock. He panted heavily, squirming and twisting in those tendrils until the not-dragon shoved him down onto the ground, forcing his cock as deep as it would go.

Sorath's eyes widened. He could see the pulse of cum before the dragon even released, a veritable bulge traveling along the dragon's immense cock and showing up in the outline of the kobold's belly. There was a keening little moan from the kobold as he squirmed himself back onto the dragon's cock, and then his belly abruptly swelled from the volume of seed that was suddenly filling it. It did so in bursts, expanding just a little bit each time, spurts of hot seed bursting out from his ass where his body simply couldn't hold it in --

"Demon," Sorath hissed, and unsheathed his sword.

He'd dallied too long, staring in horrified fascination at both the demon and his kobold pet. His throat was oddly dry, and a heat burned inside his body; he wasn't sure if it was anger or horror, or an effect of the demon's magic. Either way, he couldn't risk it. Attacking was suicide, he knew, but what else could he do in the face of what he'd seen?

The demon looked up at him, and a smirk coiled around his muzzle, sending Sorath's heart fluttering fearfully in his chest. This wasn't a fight he could win; he knew that instinctively.

" You will wait your turn," the demon told him, and there was a pressure in those words that nearly forced him to his knees.

"That is not what I am here for," Sorath growled out. He tightened his grip on his sword, useless as he knew it was, and steadied himself. "Where is the dragon?"

" You are here for a wish?" It was distracting, listening to the demon speak while he was still idly fucking himself in and out of the kobold. The demon's cock didn't seem to have softened at all, despite the volume of cum he'd just produced. He was moving at a more sedate pace, however, sliding his cock deep into the kobold before pulling it out in a drawn-out motion that produced a long moan from his pet. " Nh... You will have to wait, I'm afraid. He is... unavailable, at the moment."

"Unavailable?" Sorath's eyes narrowed, and a cold fear beat in his chest. Was the High Dragon gone after all? This had been his last hope for a cure; if the dragon was no more... but then what of those lone adventurers that had returned? Surely they would have said something, if this was no longer a feasible route to obtain a wish! None of them had mentioned a creature such as this. "What have you done to him, demon?"

" I feel I should be offended," the demon said, raising a brow, his tone dismissive. He let out a sigh of pleasure as he pushed his dick deep into the kobold, stroking a great paw along the kobold's belly -- touching himself through the creature. Sorath felt his stomach churn with disgust as the kobold was used as little more than a fleshlight. " I have a name, you know. But if you must know, I did nothing that he did not desire."

"Desire." Sorath repeated, and his eyes narrowed. His fingers were twitching on his sword; he ached to attack, and only the knowledge of what would likely happen to him if he were to do so kept him at bay. "He made a deal with you?"

A careless shrug, punctuated by a whimper from the kobold that urged the demon to start moving again. " Perhaps. What business is it of yours, mortal? And stop waving that silly thing about; it can do nothing to me, and the dragon you seek would certainly be displeased if you were to harm me."

"I--"

Sorath hesitated, glancing down at his sword, then sheathed it. He couldn't trust the demon. He didn't trust the demon. But what more could he do, when all he had was a sword with nary an enchantment on it?

"I am here for a wish," he declared eventually. "You will let me speak with him."

" A big demand from one with so little power," the demon drawled. He eased himself out, seeming to take pleasure in the sick slurp that emerged as the kobold's ass clung to his dick and seed poured onto the floor. There was a small, weak moan of protest. " And precious little manners. I could send you away, you know. Make it so you never meet your precious dragon."

"You wouldn't," Sorath said. "You'd break your deal with him."

It was a wild guess -- but it made the demon stop, narrow his eyes speculatively at him. " You're a clever one." The idle comment was delivered with just a hint of threat in it, just enough to make Sorath's blood run cold and his breath stop for a second. Then the demon laughed, and he let out the breath he'd been holding. " Very well, then. You may speak with him... tomorrow."

"What?" Sorath wasn't sure he could spend a night in the cave. Not when he was sure the demon would be fucking that poor kobold all night. He wondered if the strangled tone of his voice came through to the demon. "N-no. Let me speak with him now."

" No." The demon snorted, as though the demand was ridiculous. He slid his cock into the kobold again and stood to approach Sorath, lifting the entire creature with his cock alone; it looked absurd, to see the small kobold practically impaled on the demon's shaft, wiggling around as he moved. It was fucking itself back on the dragon's cock, pushing down on the bulge in its stomach to lift itself up and letting gravity pull it back down.

The demon chuckled at the sight, running a finger along the front of the little kobold's body, against that smaller, trembling cock. There was a short cry and the little one came again, cum spurting out and nearly landing on Sorath. The adventurer had to flinch backwards to avoid it. The two were so close to him now, but he dared not step back.

If he did, he wasn't sure he wouldn't break and run, never to return.

" You'll see him tomorrow, I guarantee it. But my deal with your dragon does not guarantee a time, and so you will wait, if you desire to have your wish granted. In the meantime..." The demon leered down at the adventurer, a lewd little grin playing on his lips. " Are you sure you don't wish to join me? This little one would be desperate for your cock, you know. For any cock, really."

He pulled the kobold off as he spoke, dumping the lizard carelessly onto the ground -- and almost immediately it was turning around, caressing and licking at the demon's immense, throbbing shaft. The kobold's entire body was smeared with precum and seed, and his gaping hole was oozing, wiggling towards Sorath as if begging for the adventurer to fill it.

Sorath grimaced and shook his head. He wasn't sure why his eyes were so drawn towards the kobold's hole, but he put it down to yet another aspect of the demon's strange magic -- and that told him it would be dangerous to spend a whole night here, with the demon doing who knows what to his mind.

But he didn't have a choice.

"I will wait," Sorath said. He stalked over to the nearby wall and sat down facing it, doing his level best to ignore the sounds that echoed around the cave -- but somehow, even when he wasn't looking at the pair, he could visualize it perfectly. Another effect of the demon's magic, perhaps; Sorath refused to entertain the thought that it might have been a product of his own, lewd mind.

The kobold was dismissed, dripping with seed and clearly happy with itself. At the same time, one of the demon's tendrils reached back through the cave, stretching to an absurd length -- and when it returned, it was carrying with it another kobold. This one was red in colour, a little taller and a little more muscular.

He was also just as naked and horny as the other one had been. When the demon brought him in, he was already eagerly stroking himself, his hand wet with the sheen of his precum. He pressed himself against the demon's monstrous shaft without even prompting, moaned as his hole stretched open and his stomach bulged to accommodate the thick, pulsing cock --

Sorath chanced a glance back towards the demon. There was a morbid part of him that had to know if what he saw in his mind's eye was real, if it was just his imagination taunting him with vivid imagery based on the sounds he heard... but no, everything was just as he'd visualized it. Even turning away and closing his eyes he could still see it playing out in impossible detail, down to the glimmer of light across the liquid oozing from the kobold's aching cock.

" Change your mind, adventurer?" The demon's voice was suggestive, almost smirking. " Mmf, this one feels wonderful around my cock."

"No." Sorath almost growled out the word. The sight of the grotesque bulge in the kobold's stomach had made his own stomach turn in sympathy, and he was glad for the fact; it meant that the demon didn't have any magic to tempt him into this. Or if he did, it went against the terms of his contract with the dragon, and he wasn't using it.

" Why?" The tone of the question made it clear that the demon wasn't really interested in the answer. He was just talking, forcing Sorath to listen to the slight pant in his voice, the occasional grunt of pleasure. " He'd love to feel your cock inside of him, you know. Any of these kobolds would. A big, strong adventurer, rutting them, filling them with that virile seed... They're eager to have someone like you bury your cock inside of them."

"I said no." Sorath narrowed his eyes, ignoring the images that the demon's words conjured in his mind. The demon continued as if he hadn't even spoken.

" These kobolds can never get enough, you know?" A savage grin accompanied a rough thrust, and a short squeal from the kobold beneath him punctuated the statement. " They love to serve. I'm doing them a favor, really, fucking them day in and out like this... They get antsy without a good cock inside of them."

"And this is all you do?" Sorath couldn't help the sarcastic bite that edged into his voice. "Sit there and fuck them, day after day? I thought demons had more ambition than that."

" Oh, I'm quite happy as I am." The demon didn't seem particularly perturbed by Sorath's comment. " Mmf... I have a routine, you see. I eat." Thrust. " Sleep..." Thrust. " Fuck..." Thrust.

Sorath could see every detail of it, even the way the demon's muscles tensed as he pushed forward. In some ways, this was worse than if he'd just stayed staring at the demon. As long as he was looking away, he seemed to know every detail, from every angle. " Quite a satisfying life for a demon, really."

And even if it isn't, you're bound by whatever deal you made. This time, Sorath was smart enough not to voice his thoughts out loud. He wasn't suicidal. He closed his eyes instead, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep but deciding to try anyway. He needed the rest after the harrowing climb, and he'd be in a better state of mind to deal with the demon if his mind was rested.

The demon, of course, had no intention of letting him rest.

" Adventurer," it spoke, and its voice was tinged with a hint of breathlessness that let Sorath know he was close to blowing his load -- again. " Tell me -- Ah... What exactly is it that you wish of the dragon? Perhaps... I can be the one to aid you."

There hadn't been this breathlessness in his voice before. The demon was mocking him, he thought, purposely making it sound like he was a beast in rut. A part of him was tempted to ignore the creature entirely, but he knew that was a bad idea; demons were not particularly known for their patience.

"You cannot help me," he said instead. Or rather, he didn't want the demon to help him. He didn't want to pay whatever price the demon would require to cure his brother, and he knew that his brother would never forgive him even if he accepted the deal. "Leave me be until the dragon returns, demon."

" I rather think I -- mngh -- could," the demon told him. There was the soft squelch of his cock as it forced its way into the mostly insensate kobold beneath him, the telltale bulge along his length as he began to pump his seed into the eager little creature. He grunted once before he spoke again, his voice still ragged. " Anything the dragon is capable of doing, I can. And I have less requirements."

It was a bad idea to listen, Sorath told himself. The demon chuckled, carelessly pulling the kobold off his cock and tossing the creature to the side, where it scrambled into a nearby passage.

Then it was just him and the demon.

" Do you know why the dragon made a deal with me?" A wave of his hand, and Sorath found himself being spun around in the air against his will, invisible forces lifting and moving his body. He found himself staring into the eyes of the demon. They burned with magic, every possible colour and yet none at all. There were no irises to speak of; it was a storm of corruption and power, and Sorath shuddered to gaze into it.

A blink, and suddenly the vision of strength was gone. His eyes still shimmered, but no longer did they hammer at Sorath's psyche, threatening to pierce and shatter it, and the demon gave the adventurer a pleasant grin as if nothing at all had happened.

Sorath stared. "No," he said. His mouth was dry.

" Dragons live long lives." The demon spoke casually, but Sorath somehow knew he was being serious, just this once. " They can live forever, in fact. No dragon has ever died of old age that man or demon knows of. But immortality -- it changes people."

Laughter. Something about it made Sorath shudder. " It's not as bad as some of your tales claim, of course. Immortality is neither good nor bad; it just is." The demon reached down slowly, and Sorath's eyes couldn't help but follow his hands. He blanched the moment the claws wrapped around the demon's ridged cock, still smeared with precum and seed, and turned his eyes back to meet a smirk and a slight raise of the brow. The red that flushed across his cheeks was entirely involuntary. " But being good is difficult. It's harder when you mortals are constantly looking for him to mediate their tiny little problems, and worse when they mistake benevolence for naiveté and try to use a high dragon for their own ends."

Sorath could already see where the story was going. He felt his heart sinking.

" And of course, even when the wishes are made with good intent, even when they bring hope and prosperity to an entire nation..." The demon grinned at him. One strong arm stroked along the base of his length all the way to the head, squeezing out a gleaming drop of precum that beaded at the tip. It was too close to Sorath to be comfortable, but he was backed against the wall and held with magic; there was nothing he could do to move away. " You just repeat your mistakes. Time and time again, civilisations rise and fall, and you don't progress. You don't even need demons to push you down."

"It's... we've made progress." Sorath knew before he began that it was fruitless, but he felt he had to, so fierce with intent were the demon's eyes. "It's slow, and we keep getting set back, but we're trying."

The demon snorted. " It's not me you have to convince. I'm just along to enjoy the ride. I convinced him hundreds of years ago that he could do better things with his time."

Sorath flinched. Hundreds of -- but that meant that the demon had years to feed on a dragon that was powerful enough to grant wishes, that had enough strength to become a legend in the histories of nearly every known race. The thought was almost terrifying enough for him to ignore the way the demon eyed him up and down, slowly stroking his cock as he spoke to him.

" Nothing else to say?" The demon leered at him. His hand continued stroking, a slow, steady stroke of his fingers over his immensely-sized cock; precum drooled from the tip in a grosteque string that stretched all the way to the cavern floor. Sorath looked up, carefully pretending not to see the lewd display just inches away from his face, and did his best to pretend at indifference.

"Like you said, it's not you I have to convince." The adventurer shrugged as much as the magic that held him allowed, as nonchalant as could be. They met eyes for a moment, before a faint smirk crossed the demon's maw and he felt the magic release him; he turned his back once again, closing his eyes and pretending he couldn't still see the demon stroking his cock.

Another kobold was pulled in, then, the demon evidently bored of him. Sorath wasn't sure how long he endured it. He blocked it all out, wondering when the dragon would arrive, wondering where the dragon even was. Just how much space was there in the back of the caves? There had to be a whole network, with how many kobolds came shuffling out of the passages, but none of them seemed like they'd fit an entire dragon.

He got his answer hours later -- he didn't know how many. All he knew was that the light filtering in from the entrance had dimmed to nothing, and the cave was now lit by nothing but the flickering light of the torches that the kobolds had set up. His muscles no longer ached, though they were sore from his sitting in the same position for so long. He'd grown so practiced at ignoring the demon that he almost ignored the silence behind him.

Sorath turned around. There was a sinking sensation in his gut, a slow realization that he had expected too much, to sit in the lair of the demon and escape it consequence-free; the demon had stopped, shooed the last kobold away, and now stared silently at him. Demonic eyes glowed with a leering malice that made him shudder without even turning around to face them.

" Adventurer." The demon's voice was a chilling growl.

"Yes?" Sorath tried to keep his voice nonchalant, though his heart was pounding. He could feel the demon's gaze burning into him, and he tried not to acknowledge the perverted sneer that twisted the demon's lips. The demon crooked a single finger towards him, gesturing for him to approach.

" Come."

His tone of voice brooked no argument, and Sorath felt himself taking an unwilling step forward. He frowned and resisted, planting his feet in the ground. "What for?"

" Do you know how long it's been since I've had new flesh to corrupt?" There was nothing gentle about the grin the demon gave him. " I've been patient long enough. You will submit for me."

"No thanks." It took a bit of effort, but Sorath forced himself to take a step backwards, his gaze never wavering from the demon's.

" Do you think you have a choice?" The demon sneered, stepping closer. His cock swung in front of him, thick and oozing with his pre; something about it drew the eye, and Sorath couldn't help but glance down towards it. There was that smell -- the one he'd learned to ignore over the hours, except now it was as though his brain had forgotten that fact. It was just as strong as when he'd first smelled it, an overwhelming musk of heat and lust and and seed.

"I do." Sorath stood firm, though his body trembled and his voice threatened to crack. "The dragon -- the dragon won't let you. This isn't part of your deal."

" Him?" The demon barked out a harsh laugh. He leaned in, eyes blazing with magic and a corruptive darkness -- he could feel them tugging at him, twin whirlpools of temptation. " Let me tell you a secret, little adventurer. I am the dragon."

Sorath froze. It didn't seem like a lie.

" Or at least -- this is his body." The demon seemed proud, taking in Sorath's horrified stare with smug satisfaction. " He likes this, you know. This little charade. Being a demon, not having to care about things like morality or ethics. He likes having a demon in charge of his body. I can make him be as lewd..."

The demon stopped for a moment, deliberately, never breaking eye contact with Sorath. The adventurer was frozen in place. He reached down, slowly, clawed hand wrapping around a thick shaft around the base and stroking slowly to the tip. Sorath could feel the magic forcing his eyes to watch, could see the way the flesh bulged and throbbed under the demon's fingers.

Another drooling string of precum oozed out with the stroke. The demon ran his fingers through it, brought it up to his maw, and slowly licked it off.

Sorath couldn't help but stare.

" ...and as perverse as I know he wants to be." The demon's voice is almost a whisper. He thrusts slowly into his hand, using powerful, draconic muscles, making sure Sorath was staring. There was a dryness in his throat and a sudden heat in Sorath's body, both surely planted by demonic magic, and a mocking lilt in the demon's voice as he continued. " I'm harmless, anyway, under his watch. What could I possibly do?"

The demon advanced. Sorath had almost forgotten their closeness; the single step was enough to bring that throbbing cock within inches of him, and he would have flinched backwards had the magic allowed him. " Besides fuck you, that is," the demon laughed. " Breed you. Make you beg for this cock, just like all those pathetic little kobolds. You won't be able to think about anything other than getting fucked again and again, once you feel this inside you. Maybe I'll even use you as an example for all the other adventurers, hmm? Let them see you naked and bound, begging for my seed, dripping with corruption..."

It happened almost too fast for him to follow.

One moment, the demon was standing over him, tall and intimidating, eyes gleaming with a malicious lust. The next he was shoved against the wall, both wrists pinned above him by a single clawed hand. He felt something warm and thick and wet press between his thighs, shoving against him, far too large, heard the growl of sick pleasure --

And then there was a frustrated roar that made him flinch, almost dizzied him with its volume and the crackle of magic that followed it. The air rippled, and Sorath felt the hair on his skin stand on end. There was a moment where the adventurer thought that perhaps the demon had been lying after all, that the dragon had returned and was saving him from this menace -- but instead the demon staggered away, growling deep enough that Sorath could feel the rumble in his bones.

" Fine," the demon snapped, apparently to no one in particular. " But you'll regret this."

Sorath almost missed the curl of the demon's lips, the faintest hint of a smirk. Any trace of his apparent anger vanished in a moment, replaced by a malicious cunning. It was gone so quickly Sorath wasn't sure if he'd imagined it.

"No, wait--"

It was still the demon's body speaking, but the tone and cadence had somehow changed, and so completely that Sorath was momentarily struck silent. The darkness on the demon's body seemed to boil, sputtering and scattering across sky-blue scales that revealed themselves underneath. There was a moment where it seemed to struggle, as if going through an internal battle, and then an abrupt snap.

The black vanished. The horns, the tendrils, the heavy air of oppressive magic -- it released suddenly, almost violently, and was gone.

The dragon -- and it was clear now that it was a dragon, though his darker form had been transformed and corrupted -- collapsed to all fours in front of him, panting heavily. Sorath couldn't help but stare. He realized dimly that his heart was pounding -- that he'd been afraid, so deeply and terribly that his conscious mind hadn't even had the time to register the fact.

"I am sorry." The dragon's voice was a deep rumble that echoed in the cave, and Sorath started slightly when he realized he was being spoken to. He tried to take a step back, only to find that his back was to a wall, and a brief moment of panic consumed him before he forced himself to calm. "I did not mean to allow him to go that far."

"You didn't--" Sorath couldn't quite quell the indignation in his tone. "You didn't mean to?"

"I did not." A slight bow of the dragon's head. "It was an error."

"If you'd been even a second later..." Sorath shook his head, still in disbelief. It was harder than it usually was to push his emotions back down, given his ordeal; without the demon's aura pressing down on his thoughts, all the panic and fear that he should have felt were suddenly rushing back, a tidal wave of emotion he couldn't quite deal with. He took a few quick, deep breaths, forcing himself to speak calmly despite the turmoil within him. "Why even let a demon join with you? Why give a demon that much power?"

"He poses no threat." The dragon's voice was firm and assured, despite what had just happened. "He was a weak, minor demon when I first met him."

"He's not a minor demon anymore!" Sorath shouted. He felt the frustration boiling up inside of him -- couldn't the dragon see? He'd almost -- he'd been able to feel the corruption licking away at the edges of his psyche, wearing him down from just being in the presence of the demon.

"But he began as one." The dragon remained calm, peering at him. Storm-yellow eyes seemed to pierce his soul, and Sorath felt a piece of him slowly settle. "They do not have ambition."

"That's --" Sorath floundered. He didn't know if that was true. It struck him as ridiculous; the weakest demons would surely be the most ambitious, or how could they survive amongst the other demons? The lower planes practically necessitated that low-ranked fiends fought and clawed their way up the ladder, lest the balance of power stagnate.

"And even if he were," the dragon continued, steadily. "He is under my watch. A demon under watch is better than one let loose, no?"

"But..." The argument didn't feel right, but Sorath couldn't find the words. It made sense, despite the core of his being insisting that it didn't.

"What power he has, I give him freely. I can take it away just as easily." The dragon's voice was grave.

"But why risk it at all?"

There was a massive shrug, then, an oddly human gesture on a creature many times his own size. "Immortality, you will find, is tiresome. One will sometimes desire new challenges, new experiences. I chose to try to reform a demon."

It wasn't an entirely honest answer. Even without truth-telling stones or spells, Sorath knew it was at least partially a lie -- but before he could press the matter, there was a scuffling of claw on stone, and a voice speaking to the dragon.

"Master..."

There was something wrong with it. Sorath knew it instinctively, somehow before he'd even heard it, before he turned and looked at the creature that had scrabbled in through the tunnels. It was another one of the kobolds that populated the caves -- but this one had scales splotched with the same darkness he'd seen on the dragon's scales. This one had horns rising from his head. His eyes were narrowed into slits that somehow seemed more intelligent, for all that he was bowing and scraping before the High Dragon.

"Master, please..." The influence of the demon's taint on this kobold was clear. He was larger than all the others, bulkier; his muscles were built for strength rather than lean agility -- though while he seemed stronger and more intimidating, his look of need and desire was no less desperate. He knelt between the dragon's hind legs, pressed against that still-erect cock. His own was trembling between his legs, a drop of corrupted, cloudy pre slowly oozing down the length. "This one needs you..."

"A-ah." The dragon seemed, for the first time in their conversation, flustered. He shifted a bit, moving so that his forepaws blocked the view of both his erection and the kobold from sight. "Yes. Carry on."

Sorath gave the dragon a faintly accusatory look.

"Some of the kobolds have been corrupted by the demon, over time," the dragon explained, though there was a tinge of embarrassment in his voice. He grunted, shifted slightly in place as the kobold worked his shaft. "T-They... desire it. And it keeps the demon placated."

"I see." Sorath felt suddenly exhausted. He'd come here in the hope that he'd be able to make a wish, not to deal with demons and corruption; if he'd known... Demons were not a force that a single adventurer could deal with. Perhaps the dragon was right, and everything was under control; if he was not, then there was nothing Sorath could do about it, except perhaps sound the alarm when he left.

If he left. The thought was chilling. If it was truly the demon that was in control, then he would not have an opportunity to leave at all, as free as he seemed at the moment. He wondered if he should take the risk -- but he'd already come all this way, and he knew of no other magic that could save his brother.

"None of this is why I'm here," Sorath muttered to himself. He took a moment to steel his nerves, to try to cleanse his mind of everything he had seen. It was a difficult task, made all the more difficult by the fact that the supposed High Dragon in front him was quite clearly humping into the kobold's arms. The kobold's groans of pleasure, the eager shlick of flesh on flesh...

Distractions. He took a breath, ignored the musk, and forced himself to meet the dragon's eyes.

"I am here for a wish, if you are willing to grant one," he said. The dragon rumbled, peering down at him.

"Polite, at least," he grumbled. The dragon stared gravely down at Sorath, though the effect was slightly ruined by the huff of pleasure he would let out every now and again. "I will -- I will grant your wish. If it is worthy."

"Worthy?" Sorath frowned. He hadn't known there would be a requirement.

"I have --" The dragon began, but was interrupted by a low growl of pleasure rising from deep within his throat. He stopped, groaning as he pressed his hips softly, the slight shift in posture revealing the kobold eagerly rubbing his ass against the dragon's shaft. He was jerking himself off furiously as he did so, his tongue hanging out of his mouth and a haze of bliss in his eyes.

Sorath averted his eyes. It felt -- wrong, somehow. Wrong_er_, when it was the noble dragon whose form shook with pleasure, whose cock throbbed and oozed with precum. He expected demons to sate their lusts in any way they could, but to see the dragon himself allowing his lust to control him...

He swallowed.

"Master." The kobold was speaking, though Sorath had to strain to hear his voice. It was a low, sibilant hiss, somehow tainted by the demon. He almost felt dirty just for having heard it, like the sound itself was a stain on his soul. The kobold moved out from underneath the dragon, uncomfortably close to Sorath, though he didn't seem to notice the adventurer's presence.

It was harder not to stare at the kobold when he was standing so close -- hard not to notice the way splotches of draconic pre oozed slowly down his scales. He stank of musk and sex, and there was a desperate need that rang through every fiber of his being. Sorath could see it in the way the kobold's muscles quivered, the way it seemed to take all his effort and self-control not to launch himself back at the dragon's cock.

It was the corruption that even allowed the demonic kobold to resist, he suspected. The lesser ones would not have had that self-control; they would have shoved themselves onto the dragon's cock, if they wanted it enough. This one had specific wants and needs. He had goals, small and base as they were.

The kobold sat himself down on the ground and laid himself back. He didn't seem to care that it was made of cold, hard stone -- didn't seem to care that his head was scant inches away from Sorath's boot. Sorath could see the cloud of lust in his eyes, the faint glimmer of reptilian intelligence that insisted he get what he wanted. He was panting softly, a hint of a tremor in his breath.

The kobold's hands reached down between his legs, and the kobold let out a soft groan of pleasure as it brushed against that hard, aching cock. He jerked once, hips thrusting into the air -- and he came, just from the touch, spurts of seed spilling over his chest and stomach and oozing down over his sides. Even then he kept going, stroking, each squeeze of his fingers dragging out another glop of kobold cum.

A second hand sent fingers prodding at his entrance. He was staring hopefully at the dragon all the while, even as he slowly pushed his fingers into his hole -- even as he moaned and pushed himself apart. His eyes were fixed on the dragon's, intensity and lust burning within him, and Sorath could see every detail of his actions just from the kobold's pure, psychic need.

He started with three fingers. They slid in easily around the precum that already drenched his hole, deep enough to wrench out a soft, whimpering cry; then it was four, the soft scales around his hole almost stretching to make room. When he inserted the fifth finger --

Sorath almost didn't see the dragon move.

He looked up, eyes wide. The dragon's presence was now towering right above him, immense and powerful, but the dragon's gaze was directed entirely at the kobold, singular and lustful. His mighty form almost trembled at the sight of the wanting kobold, needily pushing his fingers into his hole, whining as he spread his legs out for the dragon.

"You'll -- you'll have to excuse me, adventurer," the dragon said. There was a hint of embarrassment in his voice, perhaps, but it was vastly overshadowed by the lust burning within it. Gone was the sense of power and might: instead there was a barely-restrained need, a waver in the dragon's voice. His forelimbs pulled the kobold's arms back, tail curling around to pull the kobold's legs apart and display him properly.

Then he was pushing -- no, forcing himself in. The kobold was larger than the others, but this time, there was no demonic magic to make him stretch unnaturally. There was the dragon's natural magic, the glimmer of corruption in the kobold's veins, but even with those it was clearly uncomfortable. The kobold let out a strangled groan as the thick draconic shaft slid into him, and where the dragon encountered resistance he just grunted, pushed harder, forced his cock deeper into the pained-yet-willing slave to his cock.

Sorath couldn't help but stare, his mouth suddenly dry. There was a wild desire in the dragon's eyes that made the adventurer in him snap out a warning; this was unknown, uncharted territory, dangerous to any explorer. He'd honed his instincts over years, and there was never a good outcome where demons were involved. They had a honeyed way with words that could sway the most stubborn man.

But they weren't supposed to be able to sway dragons. What was he to make of this? What he saw in the dragon was almost certainly corruption, but the dragon insisted that he was in control. What he saw was not a dragon in control -- it was the desire of a dragon whose needs had been subverted by a demon's will, whose principles had eroded away in the pursuit of pleasure...

... though the dragon had mentioned that the wish needed to be worthy, and perhaps this dragon simply needed an outlet. Years of loneliness and solitude atop a mountain -- all in all, it was remarkable that he still cared.

It was hard to keep that in mind, watching the dragon rut away at his kobold minion. He was snarling, saliva drooling from his open maw as he fucked deep into kobold's hole. The faint tinge of embarrassment was still there, but it was present only in flickers, only when he remembered that Sorath was watching him; he was otherwise the picture of a wild, untamed dragon, using the kobold to relieve his needs.

Thrust.

The kobold's arms were pinned behind him in a way that couldn't have been comfortable, but he didn't seem to care. His back was bent unnaturally to give the dragon better access to his ass, and every thrust made his belly bulge and distend, forcing his aching cock against the rough, precum-smeared rock of the cavern floor. It was slippery enough from the drooled mix of dragon and kobold preseed that if the kobold hadn't dug his claws into the stone, he would have been sent sliding across the rocks from the force of each thrust.

Sorath swallowed. He couldn't quite make himself look away, except he was quite certain that this time there was no demon to blame for his fascination, no corruption he could pin the strange rise of heat within him on. There was something about a dragon's power that was utterly captivating, as wild and fierce as it was.

He only realized how long he had been staring when the dragon let out a roar, loud enough to rattle his bones, and his eyes darted from the angry red of the dragon's engorged cock to the suddenly-weary eyes of the dragon. The kobold was already staggering off, leaving behind a small puddle of kobold seed where he'd been -- and as he walked, a trail of draconic seed oozed out from his hole. His belly was full and swollen with cum.

He seemed rather proud of the fact, openly flaunting it whenever the dragon looked over at him, and Sorath swore he heard the dragon swallow. The dragon's cock was as hard as ever, even when he turned away from the kobold, and the adventurer couldn't quite help his eyes straying down towards it -- at least until the dragon let out a slightly embarrassed cough, and he darted his gaze back up towards the dragon's.

"Ahem. Yes. I apologize for the... distraction." The dragon bowed his head towards him -- just the slightest acknowledgement -- and shifted to hide his erection from view, though it seemed to throb and spurt a bit when he moved. "You wanted a wish."

"I did." Sorath tried to keep himself focused on the dragon's eyes.

"Then hear this, and hear it well." The dragon's voice was deep and imposing, suddenly, a tidal wave of force crashing down upon him -- and Sorath couldn't help but feel small next to the dragon, an insignificant speck of existence. It was a shift in mood that felt like whiplash. "I have dealt with the wishes of you mortals for generations. An eon ago I would have been willing to grant even petty trifles -- but no more."

A slight narrowing of draconic eyes, followed by a pressure that came as the dragon's voice rose and crashed against the walls of the cave. "Your wish will be worthy, or your very self will be forfeit, mine to do with as I please. I have seen too much suffering wrought from whims I have granted; seen even the best wishes come undone from the petty squabbles of mortals."

There was a glimmer of disgust in the dragon's voice, but beneath it was a hint of pain -- and Sorath thought in that moment that he understood some piece of how the dragon felt, if only a small fraction of it. He thought -- he knew, then, that the wish he made would be important.

His was a selfish wish. He wanted his brother back only so that he would not lose the man that had shaped much of his life. Sorath felt the world would be a better place with him in the world, certainly, but the essence of his wish had not been borne from that thought. He was little more than a man who didn't want to lose his brother.

Would the dragon consider that wish worthy?

His hesitation must have shown in his eyes, for the dragon seemed to soften, lowering his snout so that he didn't have to gaze quite so high to meet the dragon's eyes. "You may take as much time as you please to consider your wish," he intoned. "It is not one to make lightly."

"I... I know." Sorath hesitated. He thought the dragon might grant his wish, small as it was, but he wondered if there wasn't more he could do. Should he wish to eliminate all disease, then? It would save both his brother and countless other suffering from the same ailment -- but surely there was a reason the dragon had not done so already. His mind whirled with possibilities, and he knew he'd need the time to think.

But first, there was something else he needed to do.

"Mighty dragon." Sorath bowed his head slightly. "I do not doubt your abilities, nor your word. But there is a favor I would like to ask before I make my wish. Two, if you include the time I need to think it over."

"A favor." The dragon's gaze was hard, though intrigued.

"Take this." Sorath reached into the satchel he carried with him, fingered the last artifact his brother had returned from the Cursed Depths. He'd sold everything else for his brother's treatments; this was the last memento he had, would be the last thing of his brother's that he would ever own if he failed in his quest. It was a protective amulet, said to draw in even the strongest of demons and protect the owner from demonic possession.

"An amulet of cleansing." The dragon's eyes narrowed as he looked at the artifact Sorath had brought out. "How did you come by this?"

"It's my brother's." Sorath hesitated. "He gave it to me to protect me. But I'd like you to use it. I'm sorry -- I believe in your word, your strength -- but I cannot be certain that they are your words. Not unless you use this."

The dragon stared at him for a long moment, and for a moment Sorath feared that he had offended the great creature. Then he lowered in head slightly in acquiescence, and gestured for Sorath to pull the amulet around his neck.

"You are wise," the dragon said. "Wrong, perhaps, but wise. I will accommodate your wishes, if only to alleviate your fears."

Sorath hesitated, stepping forward with the loop of the amulet grasped between his fingers. He was worried that the demon would do something to stop him, would somehow intervene -- but his fears proved groundless. The dragon didn't budge as the amulet's chain slipped over his snout and the gemstone came to rest against his chest.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then there was a surge of power, sharp and electric and strong enough to make Sorath's hair stand on end. The amulet's gemstone flashed a too-bright white; the air was filled with an odd thrum that made the adventurer feel like his heart was vibrating in his chest --

There was a scream of pain, and Sorath flinched backwards, eyes wide. Black smoke was pouring out from the dragon's scales and being drawn towards the amulet, great plumes of darkness swirling into the core of the gem. The sound that accompanied it was the screeching of a demon being wrought into chains. It only seemed to get louder as the spell continued, mixed in with terrible curses and the shouting of a furious demon, reaching a crescendo as the last of the smoke trailed into the amulet.

And then it was done, and all that was left was the echo of pain still bouncing around inside Sorath's skull. He winced, and sat himself down on the ground.

"I am sorry." The dragon looked down at him with a hint of sympathy. "The binding of a demon is never a simple task, nor is it a painless one for anyone involved. I should have warned you."

"It's -- it's fine." Sorath waved it off, though he shook his head to disperse the ringing in his ears and the spots in his eyes. "Thank you for agreeing at all. Could I -- could I keep the amulet? It has some sentimental value, and..."

"And you want to be certain I will not simply let the demon loose again," the dragon said, faint amusement in his voice, and shook his head at Sorath's halfhearted protests. "I understand your concerns, and since it doesn't exactly match my scales..."

The dragon lowered his head, even as Sorath blinked and let out a surprised, undignified snort of amusement. He reached forward, pulling the pitch-black gem off of the dragon's neck, and frowned at the way the darkness within it seemed to shift and move. It didn't take a mage to tell that the magic was still active, potentially dangerous, and if there was any chance it could find its way back to the dragon...

He fastened it around his neck. Best way to make sure it was safe, he figured, rather than stolen by one of the corrupted kobolds or by the dragon himself. "Thank you," he said again, genuinely relieved.

"You may take one of the unoccupied caves to rest," the dragon told him. "I suspect you need it, after your ordeal. You will be better able to choose your wish when rested."

Sorath nodded in agreement, feeling suddenly terribly weary. He didn't protest as the dragon led him into a surprisingly well-furnished cavern -- originally kept for some of the kobolds, no doubt, though there was no hint of them now -- and collapsed onto the thin straw mattress, using his pack as a pillow.

He'd think about his wish in the morning, he told himself.

---

"Seems they never quite live up to your hopes."

You snap your eyes towards the speaking shadow, though you do little more to acknowledge its presence. It's a little thing, with barely enough power to light a candle -- an imp of a demon, no doubt cast here as a side effect of some greater ritual. You could cast it back with a flick of a single finger, but the effort doesn't seem necessary, at the moment.

"Funny things, aren't they? Mortals." It's still talking, gliding closer to you. You flick your wings in annoyance, and it stumbles backwards, though it doesn't seem put off by the flare of magic. If anything, it seems more intrigued than ever. "Their lifespans are too short for them to learn. They can't see things the way demons and dragons do. They don't see the patterns."

"Some of them do," you finally respond, though there's a reluctant agreement in your tone. You've seen it again and again, even the best of wishes undone by the mere passage of time; perhaps if they were longer-lived, they would learn from their mistakes... but as it is, it's a cycle that you've seen again and again.

"Want to shake things up a bit?" You can feel the demon's grin, though the creature is too formless to grin at you. Your first instinct is to flick him away -- there's no record of a deal with a demon ever going well -- but something stops you.

Perhaps it is time to break the cycle. You know exactly how the world will end, if it continues on its current path, and there's no reason anything will change. But if perhaps if you do something the Fates themselves do not expect...

You reach forward, and grasp the shadow's hand.

---

You're pacing about in your cave. This alone is nothing unusual -- but the fact that your cock is dragging along beneath you, the tip trailing across the rock -- that is_._

"It is simply your rut," the demon suggests mildly, and you growl in frustration.

"Dragons do not go into rut. I do not, at least."

"Well, you should." The demon sounds almost offended, and it throws you off a little. Surely it's you who should be offended. "It feels good, you know, asserting yourself like that. Taking what you want -- what you need. Haven't you thought about it before? About how good it would feel to have a nice, tight hole around your cock... A good little whore begging to be fucked..."

"Ngh." You shake your head, but the demon's words aren't helping. Your cock throbs in response to his words, and you feel precum ooze out of the tip, thick and viscous. You can't help but picture it, and you're not sure if he's planting them in your mind, because they're far more vivid than they have any right to be; a kobold beneath you, tail raised, begging to be fucked...

"If you won't do it," the demon suggests -- and its voice is suddenly soft, seductive. "I could do it for you."

The idea is attractive. You won't have to bear the blame, then, if you give the demon control -- and you know you can wrestle control back, however strong it is. It's bound into the contract between the two of you, as unshakeable as a law of magic itself.

So you let him do it. He finds you a kobold living on the island, whose eyes widen in surprise and delight as the large, imposing dragon approaches him; a few whispered words, a sprinkle of magic, and the little thing practically prostrates himself before you. There's a grunt as the demon grips him with your claw and shoves your cock into him, rutting him deep, and a shudder of deep pleasure as he fills him with your seed.

Something inside of you awakens, that night, seeing the kobold panting and drenched in your cum. You need more. There's a darker part of you that wants to see the kobold choking on your cock, desperate to pleasure you, masturbating while covered in your seed.

You barely realize that the demon's relinquished control, that it's you who's grabbing on to the unsteady creature as he tries to rest, who forces his head around your cock despite his protests. It's you who casts the flare of magic that leaves him reinvigorated and eager.

The demon picks up again seamlessly, taking control, and then you're smoothly asking the kobold to tell you where the rest of the tribe is. It's a little reluctant now, perhaps sensing that something is wrong, but you're terribly seductive when under the demon's control -- a single claw running along the kobold's cock, rubbing gently along the head as you tell him to give you what you deserve --

And then he's whining as he cums, babbling out his secrets, and you smile. Or the demon does, at least.

But you don't stop him, and your cock throbs eagerly with anticipation.

---

The demon's strong, now.

You can feel him as a presence within you -- powerful, imposing. If it had a physical form, you would no doubt be cautious of it; it's had years to feed on your magic, to grow in power.

It's not caution that you feel, though, just... excitement. Eagerness. A hint of embarrassment, perhaps, at how often the demon makes you debase and debauch yourself in front of your visitors -- but even that is freeing, in a way. The demon acts in the way you would, if you were bolder. A long time ago that might not have been true, perhaps, but now...

But now, you can't quite imagine things any different. Your cock aches beneath you, but somehow it's still not enough -- it's never quite enough. You want your cock to be worshipped_, and the demon knows this, encourages this through whispers in your ears._

Sometimes, in your most depraved dreams, you imagine the demon doing it to you. You imagine the demon somehow breaking the contract, of becoming a stronger, better dragon -- then pinning you down and forcing you to give worship his cock, to pleasure him, the same way you've both been doing to the kobolds in your service. You shudder at the thought, but there's a part of you that almost aches for it, to be completely dominated and taken --

---

Sorath snapped awake, his eyes wide. His cock was hard in his trousers, aching and straining against the leather, but he was more preoccupied with the content of his dreams. What had that been? They had felt as real and vivid as memories, not dreams, but that... that meant...

It meant nothing, he realized slowly, and expelled a quiet sigh of relief. Perhaps if the dragon had still been possessed by the demon, he would have cause to worry -- but the demon was currently bound in the amulet around his neck, and nothing about it had changed that he could see. He was safe.

...or perhaps he wasn't. Sorath's breathing stilled as his eyes flicked over his body, hardly daring to breathe.

He had scales.

They were barely apparent -- little impressions in his skin, more than anything, like what he might expect to see if he'd worn dragonscale armor for a day or two -- but when he ran his fingers across them, he found that they were harder than his regular skin. More than that, his feet were no longer his own. He had three toes, now, each extending outward and ending in sharp points, and his heel bent upwards like a true digitigrade.

Sorath got to his feet, wobbling as he tried to balance on strangely-jointed limbs. It took him a moment -- he had to hunch forward slightly to catch his balance, lower his center of gravity. The exercise gave him a moment to try to gather his bewildered thoughts, and quell the growing sense of panic in his chest.

The dragon can fix this, Sorath told himself. He kept that mantra repeating in his head even as he stumbled his way out, using the walls of the cave to keep his balance. He didn't know what had caused the changes, or if they were related to the strange dreams he'd had, but it seemed clear that it was related to the dragon in some way -- so if anyone knew how to reverse the changes, it would be him.

---

"I am sorry," the dragon told him, and Sorath felt his heart sink. He'd known almost as soon as he'd stepped into view and the dragon had given him a sharp look of surprise, but he'd asked anyway. There had been the tingle of magic over his body as the dragon cast a diagnostic spell, then a frown of concern that told him everything he needed to know.

"What's causing it? Do you know?" Sorath asked, his voice quiet. He'd had time to calm himself, though the worry remained.

"I do not." The dragon frowned, lumbered closer to Sorath to sniff at his clothing. "There is no magic on you that I can detect, besides my own, and this is not my doing. Perhaps a side effect from being around a dragon..."

"But no one else that visited you changed," Sorath protested.

"No one else has ever stayed as long as you have," the dragon sighed. "And dragons grow stronger over the years, more powerful. It is why most of our kind was wiped out."

The smile the dragon gave him was humorless, and Sorath found that he didn't have anything to say to that. He fell silent, staring at the odd shape of his new feet, until eventually the dragon spoke again. "You should make your wish as soon as you can and leave. I do not know how far the transformation will take you, or if there will be changes to more than just your body."

Sorath nodded absently. There wasn't much for him to say; he was well aware that the dragon hadn't promised that he would change back outside of his presence, that anything about this was temporary. It was a change he could live with, he supposed, if it came with his brother's survival -- but even that wasn't guaranteed. Not when he didn't know how the dragon would respond to that wish.

But there was a second thing that was distracting him -- more than his changes, more than the thought of his brother, which seemed distant and small compared to what he'd experienced yesterday and the memories he'd witnessed in his dreams. The dragon was -- attractive.

He'd known it before, in an abstract sort of sense. The dragon was built well; his scales and mane were both well-kept, and there was an almost electrical spark of intelligence in his eyes that was only dampened when he was in that feral state of arousal. At the time he'd been concerned, perhaps a bit disgusted, but remembering it now...

It made heat pool low in his gut. Sorath swallowed once, wondering if it was some aspect of kobold physiology that made them find dragons attractive; he couldn't help it now, his eyes roaming over the well-toned muscle of the dragon's form. He couldn't help remembering when the that muscle had been put to use, pinning the other kobold down to fuck him, and he couldn't help but wonder what it might be like if that had been him...

"I-I'll go back and think about it," he said out loud, and cursed himself for the slight wobble in his voice. He turned quickly so the dragon would not see his rapidly growing arousal, made his way along the walls back to his little cave.

Fuck.

Sorath sat down on the straw mat that was supposed to act as his bed, burying his face in his hands. There was just -- there was just too much to deal with. There had been the harrowing climb, then the demon, then there was what the demon had nearly done to him. Then he'd learned that the wish he wanted to make might have consequences for the rest of time, and now --

Now he was wrestling with feelings of attraction towards the very dragon that was supposed to grant him that wish.

But the dragon -- the dragon was attractive. Whatever he'd thought before, he couldn't deny that the sleek, bestial form was called to something primal inside of him. Whenever he thought back to the day before, the way the dragon had growled while pounding into the kobold beneath him, the way that cock had throbbed and glistened with draconic pre --

Sorath moaned.

It was soft, hesitant, but it escaped his throat before he'd realized it. The mere thought of the dragon sent a warm tingle of pleasure through his body, a shudder that made him squirm against the straw mat pressed into his back. He bit his lip, head pressed into the backpack that served as his pillow, and one hand moved to undo the buttons on his tunic.

What am I doing? he thought, but it was a faint thought, and it didn't stop him from continuing. His hand slid under his tunic, caressing his chest, imagining that it was the dragon's great paw gripped around him; the other hand fumbled to undo his trousers, fishing out his achingly-hard cock and stroking feverishly --

Fuck, he thought again, and groaned out loud as he humped his entire body fiercely into his hand. It felt good -- too good, far better than when he'd ever done this before, like something had lit a flame inside of him that was burning hotter and hotter with every stroke. He didn't notice the way the scale-like impressions on his skin deepened, the way a lilac purple began to color the scales on his toes. All that mattered was the flush of pleasure and heat, the impossible rise of pleasure that made him forget about what he needed to do and focus on a single image in his mind.

He could see it with the same crystal-clarity he'd seen when the demon had first forced images into his mind -- but now he welcomed it, would have done anything for more of it. He saw the dragon towering over him, a look of glazed lust in his eyes; imagined the dragon pinning him down with a snout, tongue swiping across his entire body in a single lick, tasting his desire and submission; imagined the dragon huffing with lust, slowly dragging his massive dragonhood over his body...

Sorath could almost taste it -- the deep, salty musk of the dragon's cock as it pressed against his face. He felt it when he jerked his hips against the dragon, whining needily, his own cock throbbing and oozing against the dragon's. He imagined presenting himself, tail raised -- tail? -- for the dragon, the proper place for a kobold.

Sorath reached down, desperately kicking off the clothes he was still wearing. One hand was still clutched at his cock, stroking quickly, desperately; the other reached further, spread his cheeks apart so that his fingers were pressed up against his hole. He remembered how the kobold from before had teased the dragon, and he did exactly that, pressing his fingers in slowly, one at a time. He imagined the growing lust in the dragon's eyes, the rumbling growl that would begin to rise in the dragon's throat.

The dragon's cock would press against him, Sorath thought, and it would stretch him open. It would be slow, since he was new to it and didn't have the benefit of experience; the dragon would try to be kind. But then he would feel the tightness of Sorath's hole, the stretch of his body around it, and he would lose himself and rut hard and fast, again and again while Sorath squirmed and whined and moaned.

He would be little more than a sleeve for the dragon's cock, used mercilessly until the dragon came with a great roar and a final, sharp thrust, a paw pinning him into place so that he wouldn't be able to move. He would be able to feel each pulse of seed as it travelled through the dragon's shaft, feel the way the warm flesh swelled with the sheer volume of cum; he would feel the rush of warmth as it poured into him, filled him --

Sorath came with a sharp gasp, his cock sputtering a spray of his seed all over his chest and the remnants of his tunic that he'd hurriedly tossed to the side. His climax was thick and heavy, more musky than he remembered. It pulled away from his chest in strings, when he touched his fingers to it. He stared at it, briefly mesmerized; unable to help himself, he leaned forward, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he registered what he was doing.

It tasted good.

Sorath shivered a bit, then, groaning; he wanted to taste more, but he liked the feel of being covered in his own seed. There was something perverse to it, maybe, a dark part of his soul that enjoyed being covered in evidence of his own debauchery; he reached down, smeared the still-warm seed across his skin, felt his cock stiffen again at the prospect of the dragon catching him like this.

He couldn't help it. Sorath reached down again between his legs and gripped his length. It wasn't as sensitive as he would have expected it to be. It was still hot, still pulsing from his orgasm, and he thought he would find it still so sensitive that merely touching it would make him whine.

But no. Pleasure surged up his spine as soon as he touched it, and he couldn't stop himself from gripping it tight, from stroking again and again while his mind flashed to increasingly depraved fantasies of the dragon dominating him and taking him utterly. Sorath let out moan after broken moan, his voice running itself hoarse in his passions, and still he didn't stop.

He didn't know when it was that he'd finally exhausted his stamina. All he really knew was that he was soaked with his own cum, and that he was far too tired to clean himself up again. There was a part of him that was concerned about where he was going, about what was happening to him -- but he was so warm with the afterglow of his many, many orgasms that he couldn't bring himself to care.

He'd worry about it in the morning.

---

Days had passed.

Sorath told himself again and again that the next day would be the day he made his wish and left -- that he would simply go with his original wish, and hope that the dragon would be generous and grant it to him. Yet each day came, and each day Sorath would apologize and ask for more time; he would retreat to the little cavern that had become his home, and he would fantasize about the dragon.

He tried to ignore the fact that his fantasies seemed to stray further and further from the moral boundaries he'd once had, the fact that his body would twist and warp more with every fantasy he'd had. It wasn't something he wanted to think about. He didn't quite want to think about the voice that had begun to whisper to him, in the recesses of his mind.

Sometimes, the amulet he wore around his neck would glow strangely. It would twist and warp in his vision for the briefest of moments, and he'd be left wondering if he'd imagined it; he would think on the idea of the demon being somehow able to influence him through it, perverting his thoughts so that he would become a slutty, whorish version of his former self -- desperate for the dragon to fuck him.

The thought of it made him hard.

It became a part of Sorath's fantasies. The idea of the demon corrupting him from within, twisting his nature to be debased and perverse -- turning him into little more than an eager servant for the dragon. He'd even play out the fantasy in his mind, sometimes; pretended the demon was truly in control of him, and thought about what he would do or say.

And that was what he was thinking about now -- but try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to cum. The thought of the demon being in control of him, slowly working to subvert him into a slut for the dragon -- using him to seduce the dragon, perhaps, and get the dragon to fuck him so that he could repossess the enormously powerful creature -- it worked him up into a frenzy.

He spent... time wasn't really something he could keep track of, anymore, but it felt like hours, stroking his cock and stuffing his fingers into himself, imagining the dragon fucking him in increasingly wild positions as the demon teased him to a frenzy, and all it did was lead him to one conclusion: He needed to see the dragon.

Sorath was enormously transformed, by that point; his old, human clothes could no longer fit him, and he no longer bothered to wear them. His new body was delightfully sensitive; even the slightest touch could send shivers through him, and he had to be careful not to brush against himself whenever he spoke to the dragon. The smallest gesture could have him hard in moments, and he didn't quite want the dragon to see him like that.

Not yet.

But he didn't need the dragon to see him -- not for this.

He imagined the demon's tendrils of control slipping further through his mind, taking control of his limbs. He thought of the dragon, clueless as to the demon's influence over him, and smirked to himself -- a devious curl of his lips on a snout he shouldn't have been used to. He couldn't wait to rejoin the dragon, to possess his body once more... and, as Sorath's reward, to fuck the adventurer senseless.

The amulet he wore flickered strangely on his neck, but if it was more than just his imagination, he didn't care. If anything, it spurred him forward, striding through the caverns with a confidence he didn't possess -- casually stroking his cock, kobold precum dripping onto the rocks beneath his feet.

The dragon was just as impressive in his sleep as he was when awake. He slept just a little fitfully, adjusting time and again to make room for a draconic cock that was fully extended and throbbing -- no doubt a side effect from all the time he'd spent with the demon -- but otherwise, he seemed... oddly peaceful. Sorath smiled, stepping forward, so close that his cock hung an inch away from the dragon's snout.

"You'll be mine again," he said. His voice came out as an oddly resonant timber, not quite his own; he was almost worried that the dragon had heard him, from the way his nostrils flared and he twitched in his sleep. But that was the end of it, and the dragon soon settled again, his breath evening out -- and in a fit of recklessness, Sorath stepped forward so that his cock brushed against the scales of the dragon's snout, and leaned in close to whisper. "Soon. You'll be mine, and you'll fuck this pathetic adventurer until he's a perfect little kobold slave."

He gave it a moment, letting the tip of his cock rest on the dragon's snout. It gave him a thrill, and he was tempted to stroke himself off until he came right then and there, to mark the dragon with his seed as a promise -- but something inside him stopped him, and he took a step back before he went too far.

This would be enough, for now.

He came in moments when he returned to his cavern; a frantic little jerk of his cock was all that was needed to set him off, leaving him curled up in his makeshift mattress and moaning as he came uncontrollably, spurt after spurt of thick, corrupted seed. He didn't know how long it lasted -- only that he was left shuddering, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm. His breath came in sharp, heavy pants, and the amulet he wore glowed with an ominous flicker of red.

Sorath didn't care. He gave the amulet an almost loving stroke, his cock twitching and jerking as he did; the thing was a beauty, and if it meant the demon was gaining control over him... Hah. He welcomed it. Embraced it, even. The thought filled him with an irresistible, corrupted pleasure.

"You'll be mine again," he whispered once more to the empty walls -- and he imagined the dragon falling under his thrall, under his will, controlling the dragon through nothing but his own sheer need for sex. He smiled at the thought, something deep inside of him coiling delightedly, and settled into bed.

He didn't need to clean up. He'd let the musk soak into his skin. The dragon would no doubt have something to say about that.

---

"Good morning, Sorath." The dragon's voice was a soft rumble; he looked up to the kobold with kindly eyes as the former adventurer strode into the room. He sniffed once, his nostrils flaring wide, but otherwise didn't comment or react beyond a slight dilation of his eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

"Wonderfully," Sorath answered, his voice coming out as a bit of a purr. He didn't miss the way the dragon shuddered slightly at his voice. "It's taken a while to get used to this body, but I don't mind it that much, I think. It's just another way of getting around, right?"

"I suppose you could think of it as such." Such a large, mighty creature, yet he looked away and let out an embarrassed cough, a crackle of electricity lurking somewhere in the sound. There was a comfortable silence for a moment, the dragon seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Sorath was content to stay perched where he was, just close enough that his scent could reach the dragon.

Then the dragon let out a great sigh, and turned his gaze to Sorath. "I ought to thank you, you know," he said, his gaze steady. "My thoughts are... far clearer than they were before. I had thought myself capable of controlling the demon, but I see now that he clouded my thoughts with pleasure -- and so I neglected my duties, my beliefs, all in favor of succumbing to wanton lust and desire."

"You're welcome." It took effort, but Sorath managed to steel his nerves and arrange his face into a slightly nervous smile, the sort the dragon would expect from an adventurer that had yet to use his wish. Internally, he was smirking, his cock twitching beneath his loincloth -- but it wouldn't do for the dragon to realize that just yet. "But the thanks are not needed, I think. You would have found your way out before long."

"Have you thought on your wish?" The question was gentle, and there was maybe a hint of regret in it. He would miss Sorath when he left, the dragon found. "You have proven your worth, I think. If your wish is within my power, I shall grant it; it need not change the course of humanity or your species. That was not a burden I should have placed upon you. So long as your wish brings no harm to others..."

Sorath was silent for a moment. His wish? His wish had been to restore his brother to health, and for all that the demon whispered within him, made his blood surge and pulse with lust, there was a part of him that still cared for his brother. He wanted the man he'd looked up to for so long to get better.

And you still can, a voice inside him argued, and he wasn't sure if it was his own voice or the demon's. Sorath shuddered slightly, the mere mental sound enough to send a surge of arousal through his body, and he had to readjust to hide his growing erection from the dragon. Take the dragon as your own -- control him with his own desires -- and you can do anything you want. Cure your brother, too; bring him into the fold...

Sorath swallowed. He could feel himself standing on a precipice, here; a precipice of a monumental decision that could change the world. He considered rejecting the offer, just for a moment... but no.

He could no longer let go of the pleasure he had been introduced to. So he gave himself over to the demon, body and soul, surrendering himself to the dark creature's control. The boundary between them was thin by this point, anyway; Sorath didn't know where he ended and where the demon began.

The dragon looked over at him, concern gleaming in those large, wise eyes -- yet there was that glimmer of lust in them, the desire the demon had brought out that could not quite be suppressed. "I... believe I know my wish, yes," the adventurer offered; he kept his voice soft, on the verge of uncertainty, and yet gave it a small spark of hope.

"What is it?" the dragon asked. There was that regret again, a small bit of sadness that he was quick to conceal, and the demon smiled. He stepped forward, closer to the dragon, brought his arms around the dragon's snout so that he could look him in the eyes -- and so that the dragon was only inches away from his musky body, soaked in kobold pheromones and seed.

"I wish... to be with you." Sorath's voice was soft, and he leaned forward as he spoke, hugging the dragon's snout. It was easier for him to hide his smirk, pressed against the dragon so -- and by the time he pulled away, his expression was schooled back into one of mild affection. "If you'd have me. The life you lead here can't be easy. It seems... lonely."

Surprise. That was the colour in the dragon's eyes, a bright surprise and warm affection; the demon laughed to see it, though his body only smiled gently. "You would do this?" the dragon asked, his voice a gentle rumble. "Give up your wish -- the life you had -- to spend your time with me?"

"Yes." The demon nodded once, using his new kobold body to give the dragon a smile that he knew would send his sentimental heart fluttering. "You're a noble dragon. I don't think I could stand to live my life happily, knowing that you were alone. Besides..."

The kobold gave the dragon a sly little smirk, the first vestiges of lust flickering in his eyes. "There's more than one type of companionship I could offer. I know what I took away from you -- it's only right that I give it back."

The dragon blushed, saturated blue warming the scales on his face. He was silent for a moment, staring at the kobold that was standing so very close to him -- and he leaned in, almost hesitantly, to give Sorath a nuzzle. His nostrils flared almost instinctively, a deep breath to take in that kobold musk, and his entire body visibly shuddered.

"I must admit," the dragon began -- his voice was a low rumble, a hair on the husky side, and the look he gave Sorath was somewhere between affection and a more primal desire. "You are... very attractive, as a kobold. I did not wish to scare you away, but the things I have wanted to do to you..."

"Oh?" Sorath asked with a smirk. The demon walked -- no, swayed over to the dragon, his body moving in a pattern that was almost hypnotic; the dragon's eyes followed him, as the demon knew they would. He'd designed this body to be irresistible. He knew exactly what the dragon liked, after all. "And what exactly did you want to do?"

"I wonder." The dragon's voice was low now, his breath sending a hot gust of air across Sorath's scales. "Perhaps I should show you, instead of tell you."

"Perhaps you should," the demon said, his tone challenging, but a grin playing on his snout. He stepped forward --

And the two met in a kiss.

If there were any desires that the two had hidden from one another, they were revealed in the heat of the kiss. It didn't matter that Sorath was so much smaller than the dragon, that his snout was half the size; the dragon's tongue practically buried itself in his throat, and Sorath moaned delightedly at the intrusion.

The sound sent a shiver of arousal through the dragon, and there was a growl, somewhere between dominant and affectionate. Sorath felt the dragon push forward, pressing him into the ground; he arched his back in response, cock throbbing and pressing against the dragon's scales.

He would be able to feel it, Sorath knew. Every throb from his cock, every ooze of precum -- the dragon's body was sensitive, after years of the demon's control, and he would feel everything, down to the smallest iota. Just about the only thing he wouldn't feel would be the corrupting magic, seeped deep inside his fluids -- and that was because the dragon knew of nothing else. The magic was normal, to him, and would be more conspicuous for its absence.

"Fuck," he said, and the dragon made a rumble of agreement. There was only so much he could do, pinned as he was, but he still knew everything the dragon liked. He knew exactly where to nip and lick along the dragon's neck, every time the kiss broke -- knew exactly where to grind his cock so that the dragon would growl in pleasure, press him into the ground again to ravage his body. Long sweeps of the dragon's tongue would slide over his body, from his aching, twitching cock to his abdomen, his chest; it made him moan, and he half-deliberately forced a spurt of that corrupting seed onto the dragon's tongue as he squirmed.

"You taste of seed," the dragon commented, his voice low and almost bordering on dangerous, with the lust burning in his voice. "What have you been doing, I wonder?"

"What do you think?" Sorath managed a smirk, trailing his finger in a line down the dragon's cheek. He could practically see the way the dragon's body reacted -- the tightening of muscle, the dilation of his eyes, the way his breath heated a few degrees. There was even the sense of static in the air, like concentrated magic that had nowhere to go. He whispered his next words, right by the dragon's ear. "I was thinking of you. I couldn't stop. The idea of you fucking me, rutting into me, pumping me full of cum like those little kobolds you had running around for you..."

There was a huff of air. The dragon narrowed his eyes at him -- and then Sorath found himself suddenly with his chest pressed against the ground, his ass up in the air, presented like a common whore. He felt the dragon's cock pressing beneath his tail, wet with precum and throbbing, ready to fill him.

" You like this?" the dragon asked.

Sorath could feel it. The lust was pushing his soul closer to him, almost -- made it more vulnerable to corruption, to the magic that was seeping into the air. The demon could reach out through that magic, could take him over in spurts, push at his pleasure and make him need more.

"Y-yes," Sorath groaned softly, and he made sure his voice was quiet, weak, vulnerable -- but trusting. He trusted the dragon to do with him anything that he wanted, anything that his lusts called for. In that trust he felt the dragon's soul leap closer, synchronise that much more, a surge of need corrupting the very fabric of his soul. "Fuck me," he added, in case it wasn't enough.

But it was more than enough. The dragon nipped at his shoulder, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to hold him in place, and with a great shove he felt his hole being stretched wide by the dragon's cock. It was rough enough that he knew the dragon was losing himself to his lusts. He could feel it almost as though the lust were his own, burning like a fire within his veins.

He knew with certainty that even if he called out -- even if he changed his mind, begged the dragon to stop -- he would not.

Perfect.

Splotches of a familiar black were forming once more on the dragon's scales, not that he seemed to notice; he was too busy rutting into the kobold, hot air sparking against the ground with every breath. The little thing was so beautifully tight, like a perfectly made little toy for his cock; every movement felt almost overwhelming in how good it made him feel. He panted, tongue rolling out of his mouth. He couldn't stop. He didn't want to stop.

Even now, Sorath was squirming beneath him, begging to be fucked like the perfect little bitch that he was. He wanted to see the kobold's belly swell with seed, see draconic cum pouring out of his stretched, abused hole; he wanted to see Sorath begging for more.

"Ye sss _..." Sorath practically hissed out the word, and the dragon barely realized that he was following along, that he'd said the same thing with the same cadence. " **_Fuck** me..."

Something was -- was there something wrong?

The dragon wasn't sure that everything was his own doing. Fucking into Sorath's pretty little body , yes, making him squirm and beg and whine -- but the way he twisted his hips, just enough to stretch the kobold just a little too much, making him whine in a mixture of pain and yet pant with pleasure -- that wasn't him.

The way he reached down to gather a bit of the kobold's cum, splattered now across the cavern floor -- the way he pushed it into Sorath's mouth and then caught his maw in a kiss, tasting him through his own lips -- that wasn't him.

He could feel it, when he reached for it -- the dark, twisted thing inside of him, somehow reaching him through Sorath's soul. The act of sex was something intimate, something that brought two souls as close as could be; the demon had somehow perverted it, used the connection to reach him even through the amulet.

The amulet that Sorath was still wearing. He realized what had happened even as it flickered again, a dark, malicious red that teased him with what felt like a smirk; Sorath mirrored the smirk, and he felt his own body do it as well, his control slipping away, and...

He liked it. He'd forgotten how much he loved this, giving the demon control, letting him act out the most twisted and perverse of his desires.

" Fuck..." he growled once, a crackle of lightning. The word was both him and the demon, pleasure rising to a peak; he came, a veritable flood of seed pouring into the wriggling little thing beneath him. He kept pumping his hips through it all, watching the way the kobold squirmed and the way seed poured out with every thrust.

He couldn't -- he couldn't let go of this.

"...I am yours, demon. Take me. Do with my power as you will."

" Are you sure?" Sorath's voice was a twisted, corrupted version of itself, a dark desire curling around it. The smirk that played on his snout meant that he already knew what the answer would be -- he was just revelling in his victory, wanting the dragon to say the words. He felt himself mouth along with Sorath's words, his body already halfway under the demon's thrall, and it took effort for him to say the last word he would ever say.

"Yes," the dragon hissed out.

It happened quickly. Sorath's arm came up to grab the amulet, ripping it off his neck in one fell swoop; the same motion pressed the gem against the dragon's chest, right into the center, and there was a crackle of corrupting magic that momentarily flared. It wasn't strong enough, the dragon could see, and he reached to assist -- poured his own power to help it along, to strengthen it.

To make permanent its bond with him.

He felt his flesh warp around the gem, twisting and lodging it into place; he felt the demon's essence flow into him, taking him utterly; he saw Sorath's expression. For the briefest of moments, he saw the kobold's eyes widen, saw the fear and horror and realization flash across his face. He saw his reflection in the kobold's eyes -- a black, polluted dragon, tendrils pouring out from his back, dripping with pure, corrupted magic.

And he came again.

The demon leaned forward, jamming his cock into the whimpering kobold, pouring his magic into his cum as it burst out of him. It poured out like a flood, magic mixing with animalistic lust and draconic seed, and he felt the way Sorath's mind crumpled beneath it. " Ah ," the demon hummed, and he was grinning, his mouth twisted into something savage and almost cruel. " So good to have a real body again."

It would have taken only an instant, with the full weight of his power behind the demon and the corruption his soul had already endured; an instant before he was once again the adventurer that had fallen in love with his new form and his new lusts, and wanted nothing more than to have his draconic master fill him again and again. Had the demon chosen to push his will down onto Sorath, he would have been utterly lost to his lust; as it was, the demon's gaze alone was enough to make him cry out, back arching, cock twitching and throbbing as he splattered himself with his seed.

But his eyes were wide with horror, and fear, and specks of lust that burned and sputtered as he tried desperately to support them. "No..."

" Yes," the demon said. The dragon's voice said it along with him, what had been previously kind and gentle now darkened with a cruel mocking and a dark, dark lust. " I corrupted a dragon. You thought you stood a chance?"

"You were supposed to be in the amulet!" Sorath knew how empty his words were, even before he said them. He let out a helpless groan as the demon slowly slid deep into him, making sure he could feel every inch of that thick, ridged cock; the kobold watched in both horror and a surge of unwanted arousal as he watched his stomach bulge from the dragon's sheer size. That he felt no pain was a miracle -- that he felt a burning need, instead, a pleasure that made a moan bubble up in his throat and come out as a pathetic, needy whimper... that was nothing less than the demon's corrupting magic.

" And you thought an amulet could stop me?" The demon laughed. He trailed a claw down Sorath's body, teasing, making the kobold's cock twitch and spurt. " I am your darkest desires. I am everything you wanted, and could not admit to yourself you needed. I am the urge inside you to see your esteemed brother bent over, begging for your cock, his pride and accomplishments nothing to his need for your seed. I am the part of you that wanted to spread your legs for the dragon the moment you saw him, wanted to be bred and filled like a whore by his seed. Isn't that right?"

It wasn't true. But as the demon spoke, the images flashed in his head, and he couldn't help the moan that escaped from him. He couldn't help imagining it, his body twitching, pushing involuntarily into the demon's cock. "I..."

" You wanted it," the demon growled, his voice low and hot, husky. It was a silken heat against his ears, and it made him groan, made it hard for him to think. " Who's to say that was me at all? You wanted this. You wanted the dragon to be mine, completely... wanted him overtaken by his lusts and needs, so lost to them that he would belong to me, and I could fuck you like he never would. Kind, gentle... you never wanted those things. You want someone to bury a dick in you while you beg. You want to be stretched like a whore, filled with seed until you can taste it in your mouth..."

Sorath's mouth was dry. His brain felt hot, scrambled; he humped uselessly into the dragon-demon's cock, and the demon laughed at him. One large paw grabbed at his body as he pushed his cock as deep as it would go, and he felt the demon masturbating through his own flesh, using him as if he were just a handheld toy.

"Yes..." he mumbled. If there was a part of the dragon that could even think about fighting off the demon's influence, it died here -- to think that all along, this human had only wanted the demon to control him, to fuck him. If what he wanted was dragon dick, he would give it to him, if it took his body being controlled by a demon to do it.

" Good," the demon said, approving, and he felt his world white out as that cock began driving into him again and again, until seed spilled from him in a puddle between his legs and his entire body was smeared with a glistening, corrupted fluid.

And even that was not enough. The dragon's appetite hadn't waned. The demon felt the flames of his lust and fanned them ever higher -- the brief respite from his corruption had done nothing more than to worsen that inner darkness, the small part of the dragon that wanted to do nothing but take and take for his own pleasure, and the demon was more than happy to oblige.

The thought of separating from him would never again even cross the dragon's mind.

There was a pulse of magic from him -- a pulse far stronger than any he had conjured before. The demon's access to draconic magic was unlimited, now, and it was magic with the power to warp worlds; he bent it instead to a single purpose. He called forth all of the kobolds that he had converted, every one of those small, lustful things.

It took only a thought to flood them with lust once more -- far stronger than any he had ever given them before. There was a pressure on them, the weight of the demon's power; it drew their thoughts inexorably towards one thing, and one thing only.

Service.

It was a desperate, eager need for the dragon's cock -- a lust that would have been impossible to achieve without magic. There were kobolds that moaned once and came from the sheer need that suddenly flooded their systems, but even then it was not enough; they needed the dragon, needed his cock, needed to feel his cum on every inch of their scales -- needed to bathe in his essence, choke on his seed.

The scampering claws came quickly. There was almost no mind left in the kobolds that came rushing; all that was in their eyes was a mad, impossible lust, and there was every chance that the sheer strength of the magic meant they would never again regain their minds. It was flagrant abuse of the power he had, abuse the dragon would never have allowed before, but the demon could feel the dragon's mind moaning now, at the thought of abusing his power in such a way. At the thought of making the kobolds need him, think of nothing but his cock and his seed and his needs.

" Pathetic little things," the demon said, and the kobolds moaned in agreement. The part of him that was the dragon shuddered at the thought of such blatant abuse, almost painfully aroused. " Good for nothing but pleasing my cock. Don't you agree?"

There was no response. Their minds were too far gone, both the dragon's and the kobolds. There were enough of them forming around him -- humping desperately over his scales, scrambling over one another to get to his cock, his chest, anything to please him -- that he could simply lie back. The demon let a smirk crawl over his face as the little things climbed across his body, the ones behind him forming a bed of humping, squirming bodies, each eager just to touch him.

" And here's a special place just for you," the demon rumbles, carefully picking out Sorath from the crowd. The former adventurer and now eager kobold was sat at the tip of his cock, grinding back down into him, trying and failing to fuck himself on the corrupted dragon's shaft. He didn't have enough weight or strength for it, but he tried anyway, and it takes only a thought for the demon to reach out with a corrupted, dripping claw and grab Sorath bodily.

The demon slammed the kobold down onto his cock. Sorath let out a cry as his stomach was abruptly stretched wide, the thick shaft throbbing and pulsing in him with enough strength that it was visible, the way his own body stretched and pulsed in time with it. The demon grinned, sliding the kobold down his cock, watching as Sorath's expression twisted into one of pure, eager need. " Such a needy little slut, wouldn't you agree?" The demon purred. " Oh, but I can't wait to show you to your brother..."

Sorath barely registered the words. All he cared about was the demon's cock. Anything that gave him more of that draconic dick. Anything that the demon would offer him of the now-corrupted dragon's body. There was so little left in his mind of his former self; he would happily do anything for the demon, now, as long as he got rewarded. He'd seduce his brother, even, bring him into the cause -- play the part of a trapped and transformed Sorath, lure him into the demon's grasp so he, too, could be fucked and turned...

But that was a thought for another time, and night was far from over. The demon's plans were far from over.

For now, the demon would enjoy his new little pet, enjoy the powers he had gained now that the dragon's body and strength were fully his to control. Then he would start to expand, now that he no longer had to worry about the dragon holding him back.

First, Sorath's brother would disappear. There would be reports of twin kobolds, one taller and stronger than the other, shameless about groping and molesting one another in the midst of battle with adventurers. Then others would go missing, through the kingdom; a blacksmith, a doctor, a tactician; a famed enchanter and an archmage.

Individually, they weren't particularly surprising. People went missing all the time, even people as strong as archmages and enchanters. So the kingdom went ahead, not noticing the pattern, never realizing the significance.

Not until it was far, far too late.