Conquest of the Dragonarmies, Part 1: Forest Edge
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Conquest of the Dragonarmy
The wind blowing through the forest carried familiar scents to his nose. Leaves and flowers, prey and predator beneath the trees, and the lighter, fainter scent of the elves that wandered the wooded lands filled his nostrils. It was a thick mixture of scents, but one that he was used to while on flight patrol. Besides, it masked the rank smell of his riders after six days outside of the city.
Akra was tempted to look over his shoulders, but it would have been stupid to take his eyes off of his path mid-flight. Yes, the gryphon knew that the air was clear for now, but the sky was always changing. It was one of the first thing one learned as a child, to never expect the sky and the winds to stay the same. So he kept his face forward.
Still, his neck twitched as the gryphon fought the urge to give his rider a bite. He hated the smell they exuded after this long without proper bathing.
"Do you think the dragonarmies will really come this far north?" That would be Alonial, the newest recruit to the group. He was the one riding with a bow in hand on the rear of the saddle, keeping an eye out for things that might make trouble. "I have heard rumors that they were approaching the River Keshin, and others that reported that they were already across the river."
"Don't be foolish," a gruff, experienced voice responded. It belonged to the commander of this patrol, Wingmaster Valorel, sitting on the front of the saddle with his hands on the reins. "If the dragonarmies were that close, there would have been reports of it. The wild men in the plains would have told us about anything passing through their lands. You know that, recruit," Valorel said.
Despite his confident tone, Akra doubted the Wingmaster's words. Normally, the Wingmaster spent his time on another gryphon, or even at the forward camp that the Gryphon Corp had established near the edge of the forest. Either way, he almost never rode on patrol with the rest of the Corp, and Akra could never remember the older elf actually flying point on a patrol, in the center of a formation that could just as easily be a strike force as a patrol group.
He looked to his left and his right. A line of gryphons, flying in a v-shape behind him, completed the patrol group. Each one had an elf holding its reins and a second with a bow, ready to skewer any draconian they came upon. Akra knew most of the other gryphons by face if not by name, and he knew some of the elves as well. Most of them were newer recruits, though, and he half wondered what the Wingmaster was thinking, bringing this many rookies on patrol. If there was an actual attack, then they would be hard-pressed to repel a ground assault. If there were dragons following the incursion, they wouldn't have a chance at all.
As they followed the edge of the forest, he turned to look to the south. The rushing river and the flat plains beyond stretched as far as the eye could see. Long blades of grass waved in the slight breeze, shimmering in the sunlight. Absently, he wondered if perhaps there would be time to go hunting later, catch a few animals that wandered in the long grasses. Would be a good way to spend time.
Wingmaster Valorel was probably right, Akra decided. The river provided a swift moving barrier to anything that would wish to invade the forest, and if there was any trouble from the dragonarmies, there would have been word from the plains. The elves and the plainsmen weren't that close, but they did have enough trade to have to exchange news now and then. Neither wished the other luck, but neither wished the other dead, either. Yes, the dragonarmies were probably still in their land, lurking behind all those fortresses around their mountain.
The gryphon formation went into a wide turn as they reached coast. Just one more flight down the length of the forest, and they would be able to go back to the fortified camp for the day. Despite loving flight as much as he did, Akra missed the stables and his food. Besides, his wings were starting to ache a little bit.
His wings beating out a thudding rhythm in flight, Akra let himself think about what was waiting in the stables. A good bed of feathers and hay, some meat freshly hunted for his dinner, and a great deal of chilled water; just the thought of those comforts made him smile to himself. And who knew, there might be some new gryphon that needed to be shown around the stables. Might even get himself some company for the night. Now, that would be something great, even if it meant he didn't get any rest.
Absorbed in that thought, he didn't see the barrage of stones arcing through the air towards the formation.
The rocks were only the size of an elf's head, but that was plenty big to cause harm to their targets. Azarel and Azoth, the twin gryphons on his left and right, were hit by in the flank by the stones. They screeched, jarring Akra from his thoughts as they fell to the ground. The grass was long enough and the fall short enough that they would survive, but it was unlikely that they would get out of it without broken legs.
"Evade!" Valorel shouted. The formation broke out of the v-shape, but not before another three gryphons were hit with the projectiles. A full fourth of the patrol had been wiped out by that surprise attack, and even as Akra circled the area, he couldn't see where the source of the attack had been. From the frustrated looks on the other gryphons and the grunts of frustration from his riders, he could tell they were having little better luck. The long grass grew on the forest side of the river, so it could be hiding anything but the largest mangonel, depending on how well the invaders had disguised their equipment.
As the gryphons circled, Valorel muttered, "Alonial, keep your eyes peeled. Those rocked needed catapults, and big ones, to launch them this high, and the only people that can field catapults that large are the dragonarmies. Looks like the rumors you were hearing were true."
He shook his head at that. There was no question that the rumors were right. Frankly, Akra was amazed that anyone had managed to sneak across the river without being spotted. It should have required bridges, architects, and many people to get catapults over the river. Even discounting that, they had to get infantry across the river to secure a spot for their catapults, and that meant there had to be at least three companies or more of draconians on the ground below. The fallen gryphons would be dead or captured in minutes, so why wasn't the Wingmaster ordering a descent for rescue?
"Keep circling! If anyone sees anything even vaguely resembling a catapult, get my attention and we'll take it down together. Nobody try to be a grand hero here," the Wingmaster yelled. "We've already lost five gryphons and four elves. Let's try not to let the casualties get any higher."
The patrol circled the long grass. Unconscious gryphons and injured elves had formed craters where they'd landed, but as far as Akra could see, the downed members of the patrol weren't approached by any of the enemy. If there was an enemy to fight, they weren't taking prisoners yet.
Which meant that the commander wasn't stupid, and that wasn't a good thought at all.
As the gryphons circled, he noticed that the grasses were strangely still, particularly for the wind that was coming from the south. In that breeze, the grass should have been waving. On the southern side of the river, it was, but here on the northern, forest-border side of the river, it was as still as a dead fish. Nothing was that still, unless-
"Wingmaster, do you think they brought a mage?" Akra asked, not taking his eyes off of the ground.
"It's possible, Akra," Valorel said. "All of the larger dragons can use magic, and very powerfully. It would explain how they sneaked over, too. If there are dragons, they wouldn't have needed to make any bridges. They could have just ferried the troops over." The Wingmaster shook his head, and Akra echoed his movements. How the elves couldn't have thought of this beforehand was stunning.
Worried more about dragons than about anything that might catch them from the ground, Akra turned his eyes to the sky. With the magic that dragons could use, he doubted that he would see it before it wanted him to, but he could at least try not to be caught off guard.
As soon as he turned his eyes to the sky, boulders appeared out of nowhere. He only barely managed to dodge around the latest barrage, flinging his body around the rocks as they fell to the ground again. Yet again, he hadn't seen where they had come from, and the silence from his rider told him that the Wingmaster had missed it as well. This was not going well. Counting the remaining gryphons, he guessed that another three had fallen. Twelve left in the air now.
"As much as I dislike leaving our people behind, the best course may be to retreat for now," the Wingmaster said. Akra growled, but the Wingmaster held firm. "Don't be like that, Akra. I don't want to leave them behind, but we don't really have a choice. We don't have enough to fight whoever is down there and still bring everyone back to safety. If you really want to get them to safety-"
"DRAGON!"
Every single gryphon leaped to attention at that warning, eyes darting back and forth across the skies. Akra wasn't immune to the mistake either, his eyes sweeping the skies but failing to look below, where the real danger was.
Something slammed into his belly hard enough to thrust him up into the air. Both of his riders lost their seats, the elves flying over his head before starting an uncontrolled descent to the grasslands below. From the corner of his eyes he saw the same happen to two other gryphons. Over half of their force was down, and their leader, the Wingmaster, would be lucky to survive the fall.
His body in a state of shock that kept him from flapping his wings and saving himself, he scanned the skies. There were no rocks flung into the skies, so where had that impact come from? What had hit him that hard?
At first, he saw nothing but sky and his fellow gryphons circling madly. They stared down at him as he fell, shrieking his name. Slowly, as his vision started to darken, he saw the shadow of something in the sky. It slithered in flight, its wing beats propelling its long, serpentine body along through the air currents. Akra groaned as he recognized the dragon shape, and realized what must have happened. The creature must have used its magic to make itself invisible while flying in low, and then ascended underneath him and the other gryphons.
Even as he fell, knowing the ground was only feet away, Akra couldn't help but admit it was a great move.
Then the ground and his flank met, and became far more acquainted than he would have liked. The darkness at the edge of his vision flooded over, and he fell completely, totally unconscious.
~~~
Akra started waking up as pain grew stronger than his body's desire to remain in the dark emptiness of unconsciousness. He didn't bother opening his eyes yet, letting himself take stock of his injuries. The gryphon knew that the moment he opened his eyes that his enemies would know that he was awake, and he wanted to know if he was capable of fighting before that.
Not moving for fear of giving himself away, Akra flexed his muscles, tensing and then untensing them by turn. Wings, hurt but not bad. Forelegs, movable with discomfort. Hind legs...
That was the problem. Just the lightest clench of his muscles almost made him cry out in pain, so there was no way that he was going to be able to walk on them. Drag them along, maybe, but not walk, and definitely not jump up in the air and start flying. He might as well have broken his wings on landing: in fact, that might have been better, if he'd been able to keep the use of his back legs. At least with that, he might have been able to run, fight, or even move. As it was, he would be lucky to move five feet before he was pinned again.
With a sigh, Akra surrendered for the moment and opened his eyes to check out the situation.
It was a lot worse than he had feared. The gryphon had expected maybe a patrol or two of the dragonarmy, perhaps thirty of their soldiers along with the catapults and the dragon. Hell, that would have been something the patrol could have dealt with, if they were in better shape than him. It would have been difficult, but it would have been possible.
Rather than the thirty-some soldiers, Akra could see at least two hundred in front of him, and that was just what he could count immediately. There were rows of tents being put up still, and he could tell that that particular task wasn't done quite yet. Lizard men and draconic half-men walked among the rows of tents, chattering with each other, some of them comparing weapons or collecting coinage from bets won or pay earned. Some of the scaly folk were bringing their weapons to the company blacksmith, or walking to the mess tent, stepping out with trays of food.
The last two things were what worried the gryphon more than the numbers he saw. Blacksmiths and mess tents didn't travel with patrols, or even battalions, particularly with the stingy dragonarmy. They didn't need to. Dragonarmy soldiers were trained from the start to perform basic maintenance to their weapons and armor, and most of them could hunt and live off of the land as well as anyone. It was only when they sent out large armies that they sent out paid professionals in those areas.
Valorel was right. This was a war, and there was a large segment of the dragonarmy right on the doorstep of the elves.
Akra looked down at his body. His hind legs were shackled to something really large, so he didn't bother moving them. They were too injured for it anyway. Flicking his head to the left and to the right, he could see that some of his kind had been shackled similarly, and some of them looked to be in much worse cases than him. Rather than just bruised or hurt like he was, they had bones sticking out of their legs, or, in some severe cases, blood still leaking from wounds in their sides or heads. They were bandaged crudely, but they were bleeding. No chance of a fight to get away, then, the gryphon noted to himself.
The soldiers of the dragonarmy avoided them, for the most part. The more he watched, the more he realized that there was a certain boundary that none of the scaly soldiers crossed. It was like there was an invisible line drawn in the earth about ten feet away from where the gryphons were shackled, and nobody was allowed to step into that area. In fact, except for a couple of interested glances, the soldiers barely seemed to recognize that the gryphons were there at all.
Except for one of them. Immediately, Akra could tell that the blue scaled, staring lizard man was either the commander or one of the higher ranking officers of this part of the army. Unlike the soldiers who wore rough leather armor with personal symbols, this one wore metal. Not quite plate armor, but it was metal, and it was worn in segmented sections from the reptiles shoulders down, and the chest, and both shoulders, had the symbol of the dragonarmy's homeland emblazoned on them. A firebreathing dragon seemed to be quite an appropriate emblem indeed for the conquering nation to the east.
Feeling uncomfortable under the gaze of the officer, Akra looked away. Realizing that he hadn't seen any of the elves that were part of the patrol, he urgently looked up and down the line of bound gryphons again, wondering if he had missed them the first time.
He hadn't missed them, which meant that they were either dead or in another part of the camp.
The gryphon's ears flicked as a familiar voice screamed in pain. Akra turned his head towards the source, and his eyes went wide at what he saw.
Alonial, the elf that had been riding with the Wingmaster and him, had his head shoved in mud as one of the soldiers leaned over him. The elf screamed in pain, and it took the gryphon a minute to understand where the pain part came in. When he did, though, he almost vomited in disgust.
It was the smell more than anything else that told Akra what was happening. It was a familiar sort of smell in the stable back home, where there were so many males cooped up together. Body scents got very strong very fast in the stables, no matter how quickly they were cleaned out, and one of the most prevalent smells was that of a male's musk when they got a little too aroused. Right now, that was what he smelled coming off of the lizard man that pressed the elf down, and their movements made it quite clear what was happening.
They were fucking, and the elf was definitely not meant to enjoy it. Muscled and used to dealing with struggling people, the soldier easily held the elf against the muddy ground as he pounded the elf's rear. Even through the musk of the two males rutting, Akra could smell the scent of blood coming from Alonial. It didn't seem to bother the soldier at all. If anything, it incensed the reptilian armsman to keep pounding the elf's hole harder. It was such a disgusting act that Akra was forced to look away. Most of the other gryphons did the same, looking away from the shame that Alonial was forced to endure.
A few minutes later, he heard the lizard grunt louder and louder, and then fall silent, and he assumed that the elf was done. Not a minute later, though, Akra heard another set of grunts, and against his better judgment, he turned his head to look back at his rider.
To his shock, there was a line forming up behind the elf, various lizard men stroking themselves and helping one another to some sort of sexual pleasure or another. One by one, they were taking turns using the elf to get themselves off, whether through simply shoving their genitals into the elf's butt, or through other things. His eyes went wide as he watched several of the soldiers urinate all over the elf's back, ignoring his pleas for mercy. The only sign that they heard Alonial's words was that one soldier walked around to the elf's face and stuffed his scaly member into the elf's mouth, gagging him.
Akra couldn't watch any more, and he turned away with a grimace. Was that what happened to all of the elves? Were they being used as whores for the lizards? Didn't the dragonarmies have their own camp followers? They didn't have to use the elves that way. They might be prisoners, but that was taking things entirely too far.
The clearing of a throat caught his attention, and the gryphon turned his head to its source.
The officer that he'd noticed earlier stood barely five feet from him, the first of the soldiers to actually cross that invisible line and approach him. "So, you're finally awake," the reptile said, his voice guttural and scratchy enough to make the gryphon's ears hurt. "Glad to see you survived. Some of our clerics weren't sure that you'd survive the fall, but I guess they had enough incentive to make sure that their healing magic worked. The ones that worked on some of your brothers and failed were killed after all."
So, some of the squadron had died after all. He hadn't been able to see all of his kind in the line of prisoners, so now he knew why. The officer continued. "Now that I have your attention, I have a few questions for you. We're the first wave of the army sent to conquer this little forest, so we're not only responsible for clearing the way, but also for getting the information the rest of the waves will need. That means interrogation, which is why we even bothered healing you and the others."
Information? Akra snorted hard, barely keeping a bitter laugh from leaving his lips. If this pretentious officer thought he would break and give information so easily, they had another thing coming.
But...
He tried to stop himself from looking back at Alonial, but he couldn't help himself. The elf was swarmed by lizard men, each one rubbing at his penis and ejecting either semen or urine on their captive. Was that his fate if he refused to answer their questions, he wondered. If it was, he wasn't sure that he would be able to take it. Pain was one thing, but the shame that would bring was another thing entirely.
"Ah, I see you've noticed the fate of the elf." Akra looked back at the officer with a glare. "Oh, don't look at me like that. He refused to answer our questions, so I put him to the punishment of battalion whore. He's got a hundred-some of my comrades to satisfy now. Of course, if he wants to give me answers, then that will stop. It wouldn't be so hard, but he refuses to listen to reason or logic at all. I wonder, will you do the same, or will you be a little more understanding?"
Falling silent, the officer walked down the line, and Akra guessed that he was making the same speech to the other gryphons as well. He couldn't imagine any of them turning against the elves, and giving up information, particularly since he doubted that any soldier among the dragonarmies would dare to do anything to a gryphon that had been done to the elf. Besides, even if they did dare, it would be like having an insect try to do anything. A beak was too dangerous for a male to risk oral, and even though there were many of them, none of the reptiles had a penis big enough to go into a gryphon tailhole. It just wasn't physically possible. The more he rationalized his way through it, the more Akra realized there was nothing to fear.
Eventually the officer made his way back down the line of captive gryphons and back to him. The lizard man looked up at him, those slitted eyes squinting up at him. "So, what are you going to do? Are you going to submit, give me the information I want? Or are you going to keep resisting like your riders?"
"If you think you can intimidate me the way that you have my riders-" Akra spat, having lost a great deal of respect for Alonial for not fighting more, "then you are as much of an idiot as you are ugly, reptile. There not a one of your species that can possibly do to me what you've done to the elves. You're just not large enough."
"You would be surprised, gryphon. Soldier!" A passing lizard man paused just a few feet behind the officer. "Bring me three of Battalion B's mounts. On the double."
"Yes, Commander!" The soldiers saluted and ran off as fast as his feet could carry him, leaving Akra a little confused. Mounts? He hadn't heard much of the dragonarmies using any sort of mounts other than dragons, and there weren't any left in the area now. The invisibility spell earlier had caught him off guard, but he was calmer now. Besides, there wasn't the slightest scent of dragon around anymore.
His question was answered a few minutes later as the soldier brought three very, very large horses back, struggling to hold onto the reins as he led them along. Each of those horses must have been the size of a Shire horse that some of the farmers used. Those were draft animals, though, while these were definitely some kind of war horses.
The commander must have seen his confusion, because he heard him explain. "During our time in the plains to the south, we managed to recruit some cavalry units among some of the plainsmen. These are the horses that they use. Impressive, aren't they?"
They were that. Akra shook his head in plain amazement at the horses. Standing almost at his height, the equines were built solidly and powerfully. He could see the muscles in their body, but he noticed that they were more streamlined than the animals that were used exclusively for draft duty. These horses had the power to run for long periods of time, and they were lean enough to put a lot of speed and momentum behind their charge.
But what scared the gryphon, suddenly and badly, was what was hanging down beneath their bellies. All equines were blessed with genitalia that most two legged creatures envied on some level, but these ones were just ludicrous. Soft, it looked like they had a literal fifth leg, and it was dragging in the muddy ground of the camp. Akra mentally measured them, realizing that they were at least two feet long, quite possibly longer, and that was soft. If that was soft, he didn't want to see them hard.
"I knew that my men wouldn't have a chance to enjoy your hole, gryphon," the commander continued on the edge of Akra's hearing. "But these horses definitely are large enough to enjoy what you have to offer. Oh, we might need to adjust your position to allow them a chance to get to it, but your ass is going to get pounded good. Unless you want to change your mind? I could still call them off, if you give me the information that I want."
He hadn't thought that he would really be threatened in this camp. Not really. Yes, the elves were being tortured and disgraced, but they were lesser beings than the gryphons. They were landbound, not able to fly without help of spells or his kind. He was bigger than any of the soldiers here in the army, and without their dragon, they would be helpless before charges his squadron could make.
But he had never thought that he would find a horse almost as big as him. He could really be hurt by those things, if they really went through with the threat. But would they? He might have been chained down, but he could still hurt them badly if they approached, he was sure. Could he risk saying no?
Staring down at the commander, he realized that the commander would hurt him, and the horses, if it meant it would get the information he wanted. Akra found himself seriously considering giving in. Being broken by the horses and lizard men like this would be the most humiliating thing that could happen to him. And worse still, every single surviving gryphon would see it happen to him. His entire patrol would know of his disgrace.
If the alternative was any less distasteful, he would have taken it. If he were alone, he would have broken and sold out the information that the commander wanted. But giving the information the commander wanted was as much of a betrayal as simply staying still, if not worse. And if he did, he would be seen and known as a traitor by every single one of his patrol. Elves and gryphons alive would shun him if he ever was able to get free from the camp, and nowhere would be safe.
Self-interest, not patriotism or protecting others, was what finally swayed him. "I will not give up the information you want. Do your worst!" he growled at the reptiles, even as he begged in his mind for them to be trying to bluff him.
His growl didn't even faze the reptiles, let alone get them to back off. The commander gestured, and several chains landed on the back of Akra's neck. Its weight shoved him down an inch or two, but it was the soldiers grabbing onto the ends of the chains that pulled his face down to the ground. Each end of the chain was anchored to the ground as more were thrown over his back. He supposed he was lucky they didn't do the same to his wings, as he was sure that they wouldn't stand up to the pressure of the chains, but the pressure and weight against his spine and shoulders hurt bad enough that he couldn't really appreciate those small blessings.
Some of the reptiles tugged on the chains attached to his hind legs. Akra felt a puff of a breeze against his tailhole as his legs were pulled apart, giving him no protection to his rear. Even his tail feathers were pulled out of the way, exposing his twitching pink pucker to the eyes of every single soldier that was behind him. He heard their snickering, and winced as they poked and prodded him with talons and fingers.
The fingers of the soldiers were small, compared to the size of his hole, but he could feel as they pressed their fingers inside of him. He blushed at the way they wiggled their hands around, pushing finger after finger in until their whole hand was inside of his rear. That he could feel, and despite how hard he worked to keep it from showing, they knew he could feel it. His body twitched each time they fanned their fingers out in him, opening up his insides for the horses and the rape that was rapidly approaching. The eyes of the other gryphons burned him as he felt their gaze and shame, and he clenched his eyes shut.
Laughter filled his ears as the soldiers and commander played with his body, prepping him for the torment that lay ahead. With his legs pulled out to the sides, his genitals were left out in the open, his sheath and his testes in easy reach of the lizard men. They took full advantage of that, reaching out and rubbing his sac, fondling the sensitive orbs inside.
Even as he burned under their touch, Akra felt himself responding. It was painfully embarrassing for him, and he was sure what blush he had was visible through the feathers on his face as his sheath opened and the tip of his penis pushed forth. One of the soldiers grasped him around the shaft, and he jerked against the chains in surprise. Restricted to no more than a few inches of movement, Akra couldn't pull himself away from the foul touch of the reptile, and forced himself to endure the bumpy, yet at the same time smooth touch of their scaly hands.
They touched and pulled at his member until it was fully out of his sheath, and dripping his sexual fluids to the ground. Twisting his head until he no longer looked at the gryphons, he burned inside. How could they do this to him? How could they do this to any of the prisoners? Was this what they had done to the elves first, before letting their soldiers loose at them? Maybe the two legged deserved a little more sympathy after all.
A ripping sound of passed wind grabbed Akra's attention, and he winced as the smell forced itself into his nostrils. Squirming more in the chains in an attempt to pull his hand to his face, to cover it and try and banish the spell failed: the chains were too strong and prevented that much movement.
Several more ripping sounds, not as strong at the first but still potent, forced more of the filthy smell into his nose, and the gryphon was forced to open his eyes.
What waited for him nearly broke him completely. The commander and at least four soldiers had stripped down out of their armor from the waist down, and were squatting around his pinned head. Puckered brown holes spat gasses at him as they let loose in turn, some spurts of gas also flicking his face with dried feces. The pungent fumes of their waste and their gas almost forced him to vomit, and he only managed to keep his belly down because of how weak he'd be if he lost what little nutrients he had.
"That's enough stretching!" the commander shouted as he let loose a toot that made even his fellow soldiers fan the air for relief. "Bring the first beast around to have its fun!"
Watching through eyes wide with fear, Akra saw the first horse brought around. How any human could ride the thing was beyond his understanding. It stood nearly as high as seven feet, and that was at the shoulder! Any mounted force that used them would be one of the most unstoppable forces on the plains, and to think that they were arrayed against the elves...Well, the forest would serve to break apart the charges, since the horses were big enough to make charging through trees difficult. The part of his mind still able to focus on war matters assured him of that much.
But his attention refused to remain focused on the campaign, and was continually ripped back to the here and now, particularly as he got a very close look at the penis that was soon going to find its way up his backside. It had risen from the flaccid state it had been in, and throbbed against the horse's belly. Little droplets of pre-semen fell to the ground, one drop landing near the gryphon's head. The sheer level of musk and virility in it gagged him, and again he had to force his stomach to be calm.
Clip, clop, clip, clop went the horse's hoofbeats as he was led around behind Akra. The gryphon couldn't hold back the trembles and shivers that begged to be expressed. He was afraid of this, there was no denying that, and he no longer felt that there was shame in showing the fear. If any of the other gryphons in the patrol had been in this situation, he wondered if they would be doing any better than he was. He doubted it.
Slowly, the horse hooves were pressed against his sides, and the weight of the horse pressed down against his lower back. That huge shaft pressed against his rump, and lower legs, as the horse humped forward again and again, searching for its target.
And finally, it found it. The flared head of the horse cock shoved its way inside him, and despite everything, Akra screamed. Opening his beak wide, he shrieked to the heavens at the pain. Oh, the pain! Fisting from the soldiers or not, this thing hurt so bad! Did these horses actually mate with one another when they were this big? It was a wonder that any of them were still alive, in that case. And this was just the head of the horse's penis. There was still more...a lot more.
Humping movements pulled that flared head against his anus, yanking it free for a second before plunging it back in, each little bit tearing him open a little bit further. Akra could already feel some warmth running down his legs, and he guessed that it was blood. He didn't know, but there was enough pain for that to make sense. Whimpering under his breath, he clenched his forepaws against the ground, claws digging into the dirt and mud.
But the soldiers wouldn't allow him to close his eyes and try to forget about what was happening. "Open your eyes!" the commander shouted at him, poking at his face. "Or we'll stab them out!"
Feeling the touch of several sharp claws against his eyelids, Akra believed them, and slowly opened his eyes again, thinking that he'd be facing the naked butts of several soldiers again. What he saw was a great deal worse.
Several crude boards of wood had been laid down around his head, forming a barrier of sorts. It completely surrounded his head in a rough square. Not straight, though he didn't expect the lizards to be able to make a very good one if they had tried. But they didn't seem to care, and he supposed they had a point. He didn't even really know what they were planning to do with it. He did get a crash course, though, and that, rather than the barrier, was what terrified him.
Rather than just the commander and a few of his soldiers standing pants-less near his head, more of the camp had been called over, even backing the two waiting horses up near him. Rather than just farting, he could see the brown tips of feces beginning to poke out from their holes. Already the scent of waste reached his nose, and Akra screwed up his face against it.
"Hehe, yeah, that's it, prisoner," the commander muttered as the logs of feces - no, of shit - landed in the little square marked by the wooden boards. "You're not just going to get the horse cock up your ass. You're going to have latrine duty for the rest of your life...or until you give us the information that we want. Whichever it happens to be."
Akra honestly didn't know if he could take this. Already the crap that the lizards were shoving out was piling up around his head. The only reason none of it had landed in his beak yet was because he had it clamped down tight. Whimpers escaped around the edges, but he refused to open his mouth and let the lizards have a chance to dump their waste in it.
He even managed to keep his mouth shut for a little bit before the horse behind him gave a particularly hard thrust, and forced a yelp out of him. Knowing it was a mistake and screaming from the pain anyway, Akra flinched as his beak was grabbed. Biting down was impossible: three people holding onto his jaws made sure that the soldiers working around it were kept safe. Something was shoved between the top and bottom of his beak, forcing it to stay open, and his tongue out. As the crap kept piling up, some solid, some liquid, some something in between, it gradually flowed towards his mouth.
As much as he struggled against the bonds that kept him pinned, it was impossible to get free, impossible to get away from the flow that headed inexorably towards his mouth, and as the first log touched his tongue, Akra realized something.
No matter how much he fought it, he was a prisoner now, and a prisoner had no dignity. The shame that he was so fearful of would come no matter what he did, so fighting against it was something that was not only useless, but harmful to his purpose. But that didn't mean he had to surrender, oh no. Fighting was impossible in this situation...but enduring....that was a possibility.
It wouldn't be an easy path to follow, particularly as the pain from his tail hole grew hotter and hotter. The horse cock probing his depths was moving at a fast pace, and by the way it was pulsing, he knew that the horse wouldn't last much longer before it blew its load. And then there would only be two more to suffer through...he hoped.
Thrusting against him hard enough that he could feel its large, swollen balls bouncing off of his own, and feel the flared head of the horse cock deep in his bowels, blocking up his own excretory systems, the horse finally lost what stamina it had. Freezing in place as it let loose its orgasm, Akra gagged, both at the volume of seed that filled his rear and at the shit that was filling his mouth more and more with each second. Both sensations were so abominable that, prior to his personal revelation, he would have growled, shaken his chains, and threatened vengeance on the soldiers.
But he couldn't afford that, not now. The more anger he might show, the more that they would know that this was affecting him. The more that he reacted, the more that they knew how much he hated this. It was impossible to love it: he knew that there was no way that they would believe that. But behaving as though he wasn't so affected by it was something he could try.
Slowly, the horse at his rear pulled back, the long cock in his hole feeling like a great thick hair being pulled away, sort of like how it felt to have a hair pulled out of your mouth over your tongue, but much more painful. Every inch sliding free from his puckered anus dragged over something that was ripped, or torn, or otherwise damaged, and it took every bit of his resolve to keep from throwing up from the pain, or screaming again.
Everything hit home as the flared head finally slipped loose from his hole, and the second horse was led around to his backside. His mouth was full of reptile shit, the taste of which would never leave his tongue no matter how much he washed it; he was the toy of the horses, used to relieve them of tension; he was the lavatory of the army soldiers; and none of this would change until and unless he gave up the information the commander wanted.
The life of a prisoner was all that lay ahead of him, because he would never give up that information.
Looking past the pile of shit at the tip his beak, Akra met the eyes of the commander. He searched them for any sign of mercy, compassion, or anything that might lead to some mercy or respect or anything else that he might find familiar.
In the slitted eyes, there was nothing that the gryphon was familiar with. There was no honor. There was no intellect, or any respect for anyone in the eyes of the lizard man. The only thing that Akra could see in those eyes was a deep hunger for something, anything, and an ambition to get something to feed that hunger. It could be anything: land, slaves, food, sex, anything that might fill that hunger for the slightest moment was something that was fair game to the commander.
But there was no way that mercy would be on his list of things to give. There was no hope that the commander would be lenient in his punishments. Which meant that there was only one last thing that he could try.
Just as he opened his mouth, the second horse slammed its cock into his hole, and his statement was transformed into a scream of pain. Splatters of shit flew from his mouth, hitting the wooden boards near his head as the abrupt thrust ripped open the slightly healed cuts along his rim and his insides. The lightning bolt of pain through his body was too strong to ignore, and the gryphon slumped, completely unconscious.
~~~
The first thing that Akra noticed as he woke was that he was no longer tied down by the chains. Yes, his hind legs were still injured enough to prevent much movement, but he wasn't chained down to the ground any longer. His body had enough freedom to drag itself along, if there was need.
Slowly, he opened his eyes, looking to see where he was left. All around him was a dirt wall, and as he looked up, he saw the edge about twenty feet up. A pit, then. Light sniffs brought the well-remembered scents of reptile waste to his nose, so perhaps a latrine pit. "Oh, lovely," the gryphon muttered sarcastically to himself as he stumbled to his feet.
His front feet, at any rate. His back legs were still slumped back, broken or at least damaged severely enough to keep him from standing on them. Looking back at his legs, Akra shook his head. "No choice..." he muttered to himself. "But did I ever really have one?"
With a deep breath, he turned himself on his side, and made himself look back at his hindquarters. Stretching like a cat, he managed to look back, and assessed the damage. His anus was ripped and torn, not to mention scabbed over from the assault it had taken from the horses, though if the third one had gotten its way with him as well, it was still in...decent shape. The center of his hole wasn't scabbed over, at least, and it had even been cleaned of any waste. Nevertheless, he wasn't looking forward to the next time he had to eliminate wastes. Just the slightest flexing would crack the scabs, and he'd be bleeding and exposed to everything all over again.
Thinking about it was enough to make him shiver. He rolled himself back onto his feet, dragging himself from one side of the pit to the other, measuring it off. Dragging himself took longer than walking, but he still didn't dare trust his weight on his damaged hind legs. After almost ten minutes, he arrived at the conclusion that the pit was about twenty, perhaps thirty feet across. With a twenty foot depths, it made him worry even more about the size of the army that would need to use it. A regular battalion wouldn't need something this big, or even a legion.
"Please...please let everyone else find a way to fight this," Akra muttered softly to himself as he laid down once more. Whether it was from the pain or from lack of food since being captured, he was exhausted, and couldn't keep himself awake any longer. Fear was only so good of a motivator, and he had long since reached the point where the adrenaline rush it produced could keep him awake.
Laying his head down on his forelegs, he slowly drifted back into the blackness of sleep.
~~~
Wet plops woke him up again. Morning light peeked into his little pit, and wet logs of feces slapped against the ground in a morning symphony of filth. Turning up his beak at the distasteful smell, the gryphon padded towards the middle of the pit. It was the only place that the shit wouldn't have a chance of landing on him, and he didn't need the irritation that cleaning his feathers of shit would become.
Piles of the dragonarmy soldiers wastes began to form at the base of the pit sides. It slumped there, growing taller for a while before sliding down to the ground, growing taller and slipping down again. Akra watched the soldiers come and go, and was amazed as the process continued for almost half an hour without a single soldier coming back a second time. With over fifty, perhaps even as much as a hundred on the edges of the pit at a time, that amounted to a lot.
Counting them was too much work when he was trying to avoid getting filthy, though, particularly when some of the soldiers started having contests with one another to see if they could hit him with a piss shot. Akra dodged back and forth in the area he had left in the center of the pit, but it was hard going with his injured hind legs. Several times, the backsplash got him, but he was the only one that knew that. From their vantage point, the soldiers couldn't see that much detail. At least, that was what he hoped.
The salty, bitter smell of the piss and the pungent, acrid scent of the shit filled the pit, and no matter what he did, the gryphon couldn't get away from the smell of it. Breathing through the mouth was a worse idea, because while he might not smell the filth, he tasted it, and that was torture rather than discomfort.
Eventually, the army seemed to be done with all of their morning latrine use, and walked away from the edge of the pit. Akra shook his head at them, looking at all the waste they had left behind. Where he had previously had almost the entire bottom of the pit to wander around, to stretch out in, effectively a third to a half of it was gone, covered by the putrid wastes of his enemy. Each breath forced him to struggle with his stomach, keeping it from emptying itself and adding to the mess, and as time passed, the gryphon found it more and more difficult to keep his stomach down. Rather than getting used to the smell, it only got worse with every breath that he took.
Akra grunted softly as he shook his head again, desperately trying to clear his nostrils of the scent and failing again as he dragged himself back into the precise middle of the pit. He was about to try and get some more sleep when he heard another set of approaching footsteps.
The commander of the army peeked over the edge, meeting the gryphon's eyes with a sneer on his face. "So, I see you woke up. Kinda surprised you can still move with all the stuff you want through yesterday, but I guess that's what I should expect of the Wingmaster's mount, hmm?"
Akra perked up immediately, lifting his head up. "How did you know about that?" he asked.
"So it is true?" The commander chuckled even as Akra cursed himself. "Thank you for confirming what one of your patrol said. I always like to have good information when I'm talking to prisoners."
"I'll just bet that you do, reptile," the gryphon muttered. Who else might have talked about whose mount he was? One of the elves, or was it one of the other gryphons? He didn't think that any of the others would stoop to answer any of the questions the enemy would ask, but after seeing what he went through, they might want to avoid the shame he endured. It could be either.
He watched as the commander sat down on the edge of the pit, legs swaying back and forth. "Now, I'm going to ask you again, gryphon. Are you going to tell me what I want to know about the forest, what I need to know to make a successful invasion?"
The gaze of the commander was piercing enough that he was forced to look away. Ashamedly, he realized that he was actually considering the commander's offer, despite his earlier decision. It was still the right path, wasn't it? It wasn't just his pride telling him that, he was sure. And he couldn't take the easy route out, if he could help it. He needed to buy a little time to think. "What would you want to know?" he asked.
Akra didn't even have to look to know that the commander's smile had grown at his simple question. "Oh, nothing momentous, I assure you." He waved over his shoulder, and paused until he had a sheet of parchment and a pen in hand. "I just need to know a little bit about the defenses the elves have in the forest. If you can tell me where the weak points would be, or even the timing of their patrols, I'll have enough."
He absently nodded at the answer. Even if he gave up the patrol information, then the armies could sneak into the forests without encountering any sort of resistance. By the time they were discovered, then they would be in the elf cities, and by then, it would be too late to form any kind of resistance.
The gryphon slowly pulled his head up, looking at the commander. "If I give you the information you want, you will stop this torture?"
"Of course," the commander said with a nod. "Of course, I couldn't release you, but you will be treated like a standard prisoner, instead of dealing with all of...this." The reptile waved at the piles of waste that piled around the gryphon. "You'll be set up in a larger pen, given better food, and allowed a cleric to heal your hind legs, so long as you keep your wings bound so you can't fly away."
All of those incentives were very tempting, particularly the offer of getting his legs healed. If he could just walk, he was sure that he could get out of the camp, maybe get back to the elves and offer them advice about what was coming for them. With the entire patrol shot down, there was no way they would have any warning, particularly when they were not due back for a few more days. Without a warning, the woods would fall. His pride and his duty pleaded with him not to give away anything to this soldier, but he honestly didn't think he could take the torture of this pit any longer.
He remembered his plan as he hung his head with a sigh. It was a good plan, he thought wistfully. "I'll tell you...if you swear that I get out of here afterwards."
"Of course, of course. Just give me what I need to know, and you'll be released from this."
Lowering his head again, the gryphon started talking. He told the commander of the paths the other patrols would take, telling him that the center of the forest would be open for another day. If a unit moved quickly, they would be past all of the outer patrols, and the inner patrols were much easier to sneak past. One day, and the dragonarmies would have over two thousand troops inside of the forest without the elves being aware of them, as long as those soldiers were around the camp right now. Rapid scratching from the pen against the parchment told him that the commander was taking notes, and Akra wondered if he was doing the right thing.
"And that's it," the gryphon said, having described the patterns of the elf patrols and a few of the weaker defense points that could be overrun quickly by the soldiers that might be under the command of this wave of soldiers. "Now, get me out like you said."
Instead of calling for a rope, or anything else that might help Akra out of the pit, the commander stood up and chuckled. He stepped back a few paces, though staying in view, and said, "I can't just let you out yet, prisoner. After all, you could have just told me something that would get me killed. I need to check this out in person, make sure that this information is good. If it is, then I'll make sure to hold up my end of the deal. Goodbye, birdie. I got a war to plan."
That was it?! Akra would have leaped up and sliced that reptile in half for that, if he could move at all. In lieu of that, he growled at the retreating commander, slowly sinking back down to the ground. He curled up around himself, shaking his head a few times.
It hadn't worked out the way he wanted, but there was still a possibility that this could work out. The commander was smarter than he'd like, expecting something like that, but he doubted that the lizard knew what was waiting for him at the spot that Akra had described. It was one thing to expect a small patrol waiting, or even something a little larger.
But the gryphon doubted that the commander knew that someone entering that part of the forest would draw the entire army of the elves, and if there was any justice in the world, that evil officer would be the first to fall.