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The Lord's Domain

"Curses. Curses. Curses. CURSES!"

The fox's thoughts railed, trying to find a solution for the madness screaming at him as he ran through the carpeted corridors that lead deeper into the castle. Was he still being chased? What the hell had that been!? Tears were building in the corners of the usually composed creature's eyes, matting the fiery, orange fur as the castle's interior blurred past. The clanking of iron footsteps behind him was the only indicator to let him know that his remaining party member was still following him. But was the creature still following them?

_What was that!? What had happened? What... Damn it. _

_ _

Words escaped him. His preparations had not been enough. It had all happened so fast. The burst of energy and adrenaline was slowly petering out. His quick escape had been fuelled by sheer, raw survival instinct and was already running dry, leaving the fox struggling to catch his breath. His breathing came in ragged gulps, his eyes wide, pupils focusing and un-focusing as the knight finally came to a stop. A screaming thought of self-preservation chastised him from the back of his mind, but it was slowly being wrested down by stirrings of shame and duty.

He was in a demon's lair, now. He shouldn't be running. He couldn't afford to be running. But he had run. When the others needed him the most. He shouldn't have- He could have- If only-

_ _

What had that monster been? It had towered after him on countless legs, and fear had crawled into his heart. It was undignified. Rell had fought monsters before. But this one had been particularly sudden, and scary. Just like that, he had lost another party member. From the original party of four, only two remained.

His thoughts swam, his breath was laboured. Pained and heavy, the sharp exhales stung the back of his throat and a faint iron taste lingered on his tongue. His body slowly came to a stop and he took a moment to appraise his surroundings. The torchlight that hung evenly along the carved walls provided a meagre sensation of heat among the cold stone, but the dancing flames gave a semblance of life to the shadows that clung to the far walls. The fox could swear they were twisting into mocking shapes, silently judging him.

"What... What... What was that!?" the fox cried out half in disbelief, hoping that this was all a nightmare. As though if he disbelieved it enough, it would all go away.

"A Mimic , Sir." The baritone voice came from behind the fox, followed by a darker grunt. "That... was unfortunate. Don't think it's following us anymore. We need to press on. We won't let their loss be for nothing," the voice continued, grave but reassuring. The large, hulking figure stepped closer, and the fox felt the rock-steady grasp of a hand on his shoulder. The bull was a member of the minotaur clan, as large as a mountain and as dependable as stone itself. Twice as big as the fox, he was as broad as he was tall with tanned, leathery skin, and armour that could shrug off the strongest of blows. Few people even dared to stand against him, and the fox had to admit that the twin horns that crowned the bull lent to the intimidating look... Not to mention the way the bull could wield a warhammer as if it was a twig.

Hearing the bull's voice helped a little, Rell had to concede. There was something deeply reassuring about it.

Rell tried his best not to think about the grotesque scene they had just witnessed, but it was hard not to. It came unbidden and, try as he might, Rell could not stop it from replaying in the back of his consciousness. The sight of one of his party members being eaten alive was one that would surely haunt him to the end of his days. He had been able to _taste_it in the air. Rell's sense of smell had always been his pride, and it borderlined on the supernatural. But now, the cloying sensation of fear that had filled the room was only serving to put him further on edge.

This entire place reeked of it. He had only taken a single step inside this castle before it had overwhelmed his senses completely. Helplessness. The writhing miasma of demons, mixed with the pungent stench of draconic malice and glee, entwined into an unholy concoction that he would recognize anywhere. He had encountered enough of both to know these scents by heart. Yet there was a strange sweetness to it all that was new.

Rell didn't like new.

The stench had only grown worse throughout their journey - they had already lost too much as it was. Their mage had first been reduced to a stone statue after making a mistake with the cursed, runed wall. Rell had vowed then to find a cure for them. Now the scout, a ratfolk, was gone too.

Rell cursed himself, biting down a swear that almost slipped out under his breath. The ratfolk had just meant to scout. A part of him felt like he should have followed the ratfolk. It would have been safer. He should have insisted, even if his scouting skills weren't the best. He should have gone, too. And when the sounds of yelling and metal clattering from fallen weaponry had echoed through the hallway it had already been too late.

The sight of the ratfolk's face being pressed into the slimy tongue of the chest-monster was one that had seared itself into Rell's mind. That writhing, flailing body ensnared by an oversized tongue. Several lesser tendril-like graspers, holding the ratfolk by the arms, pulling him into the fanged chest. Time felt like it had slowed down and he had found himself paralyzed at the sight; watching the scene unfold as the tendrils crawled up the rat, twining around shoulders, chest, waist and finally legs, until the screaming companion was dragged into the aberration's insides where they muffled the small creature's shouts.

He had heard the slurps. Wet, squelching noises of flexible muscles had coiled and constricted around the smaller creature. He had watched as the rat's face was pressed into the wet mass, smeared with saliva as the ratfolk was threaded further and further into the chest's depths, vanishing into a deeper compartment inside the monster.

When the glimmers of courage had finally found their footing within Rell, he had tried to charge. He had tried to help. But as if fate itself had played a cruel trick on him, a shimmering, translucent wall had sprung up as soon as he charged, separating him from the helpless scout. Magic. Demonic magic, intended to trap any would-be victims with the monster they had awakened. The ratfolk had probably seen the chest and thought that he could salvage something quickly, to make this trip worth it, but it had ended with him locked inside with a man-eating monster. And any would-be saviours were just forced to watch.

Rell had shouted. He had yelled. He had swung his sword, only to watch it bounce off the magical wall as if it were an iron one. He had kept swinging, but the wall hadn't budged an inch, unfazed by the slashing steel.

When the monster opened its jaws once more it had turned itself towards Rell, and what had been a monster became an abomination. It had sprouted several legs, its jaws had splayed wide, rows of teeth had become visible, and the chest promptly ran towards Rell.

At first, Rell had taken a step backwards, a cautious stance. His hands had been shaking but kept themselves firmly on his sword. Paralyzing panic had overtaken him and his thoughts had raced. He had almost mustered up enough courage to prepare himself against the monster before the fates deigned to play another trick on him.

All of his mental preparations and battle plans factoring in the barrier suddenly shattered as the wall did. The thief devoured, the barrier was rendered unnecessary. The monster's lid opened wide, displaying the several rows of teeth. Thick, drooling tendrils hung on full display, and even more grotesque limbs began growing from the aberration's side.

And the Hero had run.

Like a coward.

He had taken this mission not just for the money, but because he knew he was the right fox for the job. Rell was an esteemed knight. His order of knights was known thorough the lands as skilled with the blade, and Rell himself had taken a liking to the role of wandering swordsman. Someone who patrolled the regions, roaming from village to village on faraway missions to hunt down evil. And now, a true evil had appeared. The rumoured Demon Lord. The Tyrant of the Eastern Mountains. The order needed someone to slay him, and Rell had taken the job. He had volunteered to defeat someone who had struck down countless foes.

Because so had Rell. He had also felled more enemies than he remembered. And yet, in the castle of this Demon Lord, he found himself shaken to his core. Rell prided himself on his skills; his eyes let him spot ambushes and traps from far away. His scent alerted him to danger. His sword was forged from rare metals and could cleave even through steel with ease. And yet- and yet. He had been powerless to stop his comrades from meeting an untimely end.

This place was a maze. It confused the senses. They had suffered traps, illusions, and ambushes; imps had set upon them and thrown alchemical concoctions at them. It had taken them the better part of a half-hour just to get the ichor off them, and he could still feel the burn slowly clinging to the hide beneath his fur. Whoever oversaw this castle had a twisted sense of humour and was clearly well-versed in magic. He had never suspected the Demon Lord to be so powerful as to be able to conjure up walls from thin air. He should retreat. This Tyrant was a menace. Too strong. Too strong. Not just for himself, but for those that had been lost. But the reassuring voice came from behind, lifting his spirits when they were reaching their lowest. He could not afford to give up now.

"Don't lose hope, Sir Rell. We'll take him down, and we'll make things right. I promise. We've faced worse before, yeah?" The baritone voice sounded out again, snapping the fox out of his sea of swimming thoughts. Rell needed a moment to collect himself. It was not like him to lose focus like this. This place was getting to him. The burn he could feel on his chest was getting worse, and it made him itch somewhat. But he would bear it. The bull had suffered the most, with his big frame. He had shielded them from the ambush and was probably hurting more than Rell was. And if the minotaur could keep a lid on things and not complain, so could he.

_ _

The swordsman took the deepest breath he could manage, held it, and exhaled. He was still shaking somewhat but, slowly, his muscles relaxed. Center yourself. Calm yourself. Focus yourself. He mentally recited his mantra, letting his thoughts draw inwards. His heart stilled and the ripples of uncertainty and doubt that had overcome him calmed. It was hard, but the bull's confidence helped. He would slay this Demon Lord.

"Thank you, Coal. Your words are ever reassuring," the fox's voice finally sounded out, once more composed and calm. The tremors had subsided. He was a powerful swordsman, but he was still not experienced enough. Not enough. No matter how many monsters he felled, he was kept on his toes. It had never become second nature to him, which he had expected it to. He had hoped it would. He had not won every fight, but he had survived them all. In survival, he was unmatched. A tragic skill for a so-called hero. But a hero he was, regardless - to the people, to those close to him, and to those with dear ones lost to the various menaces of the world.

Rell turned to the minotaur and offered up a reassuring smile in turn, his own hand coming up to Coal's. The large warrior was like a boulder. Unmoving and unmoved. Unflinching and unbothered. A harder head than any Rell had ever known. A more reliable soldier he would not be able to find in the king's own vanguard. The soft, furred fingers lingered for a few moments more than they ought, taking solace in Coal's warm and leathery hide before the fox steadied himself and took stock of the situation.

He had not noticed it previously, but he could tell that this room had widened more compared to the corridors they were in earlier. Now that his senses had calmed down, he was noticing the subtler details about the room. The shadows were ever so slightly more distant and smaller, and the torchlight didn't quite bathe the yellow light all the way to the centre of the corridor. His eyes glid along the stonework. The torches continued onwards in what felt like an endless straight line. Looking back at where they had come from, the corridors also seemed to extend endlessly behind them. That did not feel right to Rell. There had been several more twists and turns. Realization dawned; it was another trick, of course. Rell decided that he hated illusions.

"It is an illusion," the fox declared, causing a look of alarm to overcome the minotaur. "Don't worry, I am not smelling anything hostile," he added once he saw the minotaur reach for his warhammer. Rell stepped forward and let his fingers trail around the stonework. It only took a minute of searching before his arm fell through. A moment later, the rest of the fox followed. "It's a stairway, and it's leading upwards. The sweet smell is increasing. We're getting close," Rell's words rang, chipper and with newfound enthusiasm, tempered by the determination of what they were going to face. After Rell had slipped through the illusory wall, Coal followed suit. Up they went, measured and careful, as the staircase wound its way into a wider and wider spiral.

At the top, a red-carpeted room awaited, guarding a single corridor with two stony guardians in front. Gargoyle-like creatures, carved from stone, each wielding a halberd. Vaguely dragon-shaped, the guardians sported leering muzzles poking out from metal helmets that obscured most of their faces. The statues towered above both Rell and Coal with tails held still, showing a master artisan's skill at work. Rell already knew what to expect, his hand on his sword, clutching it tight.

"Get ready," Rell warned, and the two knights witnessed as the statues came to life. Starting to move, the tails grinding into motion, the figures proceeded to lumber close with halberds drawn. Muscled and scaled, chiselled from solid rock, the statuesque figures both boasted tremendous strength. In perfect synchronization, the twin assailants set upon them.

Rell drew his sword and Coal followed suit with his warhammer in tow. The guardians took the first move, each singling out one of the new arrivals, throwing themselves at the intruders. Wind whizzed past Rell's ear as the first swing came down in a brutal, diagonal arc that threatened to cleave the smaller fox in half.

Slow. Long range, need to get closer, Rell's thoughts ordered themselves as the fox's weight shifted to the side, armoured boots kicking off the ground to propel the smaller figure forward. Closing the distance, Rell's hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, cutting along his opponent as the fox bounded past the larger foe. The gleaming blade left a note behind where it was swung against the gargoyle's flank, tearing a shallow gash into the stone. Hard.Too shallow. More strength.

Feet landed on the ground once more, the fox's body twisted on the spot to remain facing his foe which seemed to still be processing that it had been hit. It probably wasn't used to being hurt. It probably wasn't used to a sword like Rell's_._ With another lunge, the agile swordsman drove his body forward, aiming for the monster's exposed side. A stone monster. A magical construct. It reeked of magic. It must have a core somewhere. Rell's thoughts flowed in tune with his body and, with a powerful lunge, the sword sunk into the gargoyle's back. Rell had aimed for its heart. These types of monsters always had something controlling them. And the cores had to be centrally located, he knew. Too far away from a body's core features, and the magic got too weak for the monsters to move properly. The chest was the thickest part.

For a moment, the sword stuck. Rell could feel he had struck something particularly hard, and the monster slumped forward, going still. Success. The core was destroyed. Its arms slouched and its head hung, gazing lifelessly at the floor. One down.

Glancing sideways, Rell could see that Coal was still busy with his own fight. The fox whistled, impressed at how the minotaur was forcing his own dance partner on the defensive from the start. The gargoyle tried to swing, but the minotaur parried the strike by impacting the halberd's haft with the warhammer's own, knocking the weapon away before it could complete its arc. Coal did not give his opponent any leeway, following up with a pummelling series of impacts. The way the stone cracked, clanged, and crunched as the warhammer impacted the chest, helmet and head in order was a sight to behold. Perhaps the minotaur's claim to be stronger than stone truly did have some merit to it.

They had often play-argued about the merits of nimbleness versus strength, but the results spoke for themselves when they had a proper way of measuring each other. Rell couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride at having finished his own opponent first. Strength was all well and good in overpowering enemies, but with speed and agility one could strike the weak points directly and end a fight as soon as it had begun.

Withdrawing his sword from the gargoyle's back, the fox observed his blade, noting that it had gotten somewhat chipped. He would need to take it to a blacksmith soon. Rell briefly wondered if it would be rude to try to get in the way of Coal's own little dance, and if the manly minotaur would be upset if he decided to re-join the fray and team down the gargoyle. A grim reminder of the previous events climbed up from the depths of his mind, banishing the playful spirit quickly. This was not a game. They were here on a mission, and they should not play around. They needed to finish their opponents quickly to conserve energy. Focus.

Sword at the ready, the fox strode towards his companion and readied himself to take the second monster down while Coal kept it busy. Rell had managed to take two steps before a stinging, searing pain _lashed_through his side and the world started to spin. The fox was thrown off the floor as a stony tail finished its cruel arc and slammed its full, mountainous weight into the swordman's side, sending Rell's body hurling several feet away, rolling as he impacted the floor.

The air was forced from his lungs in a strained yelp. Pain flashed in bright red colours. His body burned, crumpling to the floor from the impact. A few feet away, the gargoyle that had pretended to be dead smirked.

Instincts screamed. Survive. Run away. Don't let it end here. The blow had knocked both wind and footing from him, leaving the fox sprawling. Not yet. His hand moved down to his side, holding around the bruised, impacted waist. Hurts. Luckily, the magic spell that had been cast on him before they set out had made his flesh tougher, sturdier. He was bruised, but nothing broken. He assessed the situation, his eyes glancing towards the minotaur.

NO.

_ _

Coal had turned towards him. Don't take your eyes away, Coal! The minotaur was running towards him-

"Don-!" Rell managed to force past his lips, before the second gargoyle turned its halberd around to utilize its blunt side. Time seemed to slow, perception and pulse coming together in painful, torturous clarity as Rell watched the gargoyle grab the glaive with both arms and swing, impacting the minotaur over the back of his head in a sharp, horizontal blow. The resulting crack was enough to break a heart.

A second stretched towards infinity with the fox watching the mountain of a body slump. His own refused to move, frozen in fear and realization. Rell watched as the gargoyle continued. Like a mechanical automaton, the gargoyle reached down and grabbed the minotaur. It looked as easy as handling a sack of potatoes and, with the most minimal exertion, the minotaur was hefted over a shoulder before the gargoyle turned to leave.

No.

Don't you dare.

Fury blazed deep within the swordman and, as if pain had been completely forgotten, the fox let his hand slide along the stony floor. Luckily, the sword had been thrown in the same direction he had, and the fox's hand soon found its hilt. With ice-cold fury burning within Rell's chest, the Hero staggered back onto his feet. He turned to face his opponent, the one remaining gargoyle. It was standing still. Why was it standing still? It hadn't pursued him when he was down. It waited for him to get up.It was still smirking. He was going to wipe that smirk off its face.

But he wanted to run. He needed to run_._ Surely, it hadn't ki-- No, it had taken Coal. Because of him. Because of him, Coal had gotten distracted. He would never forgive himself if he let that bull get hurt because of his own negligence. But it had taken him away. That meant that surely Coal was still alive.

_ _

Rell kept his eyes peeled on the creature in front of him, sword at the ready. It didn't seem to make any indication that it was going to move. It was biding time. Rell ran. Boots impacted the floor with heavy steps as the fox once again moved to close the distance. Whatever the other beast wanted to do to Coal, Rell would stop it. He needed to follow, fast. But he couldn't. This creature was just pretending to be slow, and it could be blindingly fast if it wanted to. He was not going to fail. Not again.

_ _

Once more, the gargoyle struck. It had gone back into its slow movements. Rell watched it rear its halberd back before slicing it forward with another diagonal cut. This time, Rell was truly focusing. It was manoeuvring with a surprising grace for being made from stone. It could swing around a long-reach weapon within confined walls. This entire castle was a lie, its inhabitants included. Now he knew, this creature was assessing him. Testing him. But this guardian would have to think twice before it could outsmart a fox.

Rell ducked, twisting his body underneath the swing. He knew what was coming next. The fox kicked off the floor just as the creature twisted around to slam its tail in a swift horizontal arc, leaping above the tail while mid-swing. His free arm grasped onto the enormous appendage to stabilize himself and push away from it, regaining his balance mid-movement, flowing around the tail in a single, fluid motion. This creature only pretended to be slow so that people aiming to take advantage of its slowness would be met with a surprise.

The creature seemed confused that the assault hadn't worked, and Rell's sword reached its side, slashing across its chest. Hurry. The assault continued and the fox carved the blade in sharp, quick motions. Down its side. Up its back. Criss-crossing the gargoyle's frame as the sword danced up and down the stony creature, whittling it away. Rell gritted his teeth, and his thoughts burned with an icy clarity. The gargoyle swung around with another tail whip. This time, with a spirited shout the blade tore upwards to meet it, and in a single swipe split the tail from its body. It fell to the ground with a heavy thump.

It is but a stone. It is not too bright. It does not know how to change up its rhythm on the spot. It appears smart, but it only knows that which it knows is tried and true. The fox's thoughts lined up, flowing with the sword. Keep your eyes open. Focus. Look. Smell. Feel. Take in everything it has. Rell's nose flared, and he could sense it. Confusion. Fear.Magic! The gashes he had inflicted were leaking magic. Rell could smell it like trails of inky vapour. They were growing denser towards a specific point of the gargoyle's body. There. The weak point. This time, he was_certain_. Rell moved, fingers clutching around the hilt to the point that they were growing pale. Rell's ears perked. A whistle could be heard on the wind.

His body moved on instinct, as something_whizzed past, grazing his shoulder. The crash of glass against floor a moment later indicated that they were not alone. A glance was enough to confirm that it was one of the smaller imps from earlier. _Too much. He had wasted too much time already.

"RHhhHHHAA!" The fox let out a singing, lifting warcry as he cleaved his sword right below the shoulder region of the gargoyle. A ringing shatter erupted from within the stone, the fracturing of crystal. The sound of glass-like shards clattering against the floor rung a moment later, and the gargoyle fell over. Defeated, at last.

Turning on his heels, the fox barely needed to aim. He could hear. He could smell. He could feel. His arm came up and he hurled his sword as if it was a makeshift spear. It sung as it soared through the air, impaling the hiding imp through the stomach. Only a moment passed before a smoke-like puff sounded out and the creature vanished back to the underworld from whence it came. The clattering of metal followed, the sword falling to the ground once more for Rell to pick up.

The room was clean, now. There was no doubt. Rell could not put proper words to his thoughts. The room had - for just a moment - felt alive, as if he could taste, smell and sense every cobblestone in the room's foundation. The lingering presence of the minotaur. The jeering, smug arrogance of magical creatures. The surprise and shock clinging to the stonework like moss. The flying glee of demons. Everything had become apparent in a single instant, and he had felled his foe in moments.

...Whatever had happened, he would celebrate that_later. For now, he had the Demon Lord to vanquish and a minotaur to rescue. He was not going to be merely a _survivor. Not again.

His attention turned to survey the room.

The carpet was red and bright, with golden trimming along the edges. No magic to be found. No traps. It felt as if he was being expected. That someone was waiting for him. Rell did not like this feeling, and it made his fur stand on end. The hallway that the gargoyle had vanished through only had one way. He had a feeling in his core, a certainty that there were no more illusions. No trickery. Every sense in his body felt heightened. He knew that this was it. As Rell strode through the corridor, the cloying, unpalatable sweetness grew more intense. When the large, double doors finally stood before Rell, he knew that he had arrived.

The Demon Lord's chambers.

His hands seemed so small by comparison when they pushed against the two slabs. He pushed, but they did nothing. Rell pushed harder, but to no avail. Another time, only this time with focus. He let the newfound sensation linger in his arms. He steadied his feet against the floor, anchoring him, pressing his entire being against the large slabs.

Rell pushed. This time, there was a rumble. Tall and mighty, the hallway itself shook with anticipation as the doors slowly moved, grinding open. Little by little they swung to each side, opening into the grandiose, carpeted hall that was the Throne Room. The heart of the Demon King's Castle.

The room was vast and wide. Beaming light shone in from behind, sifting in through enormous windows that stretched high towards the ceiling. Crimson cloth hung in majestic patterns beside each window, giving the room a regal feel.

In the centre atop a raised dais, Demon Lord Maduin, Catastrophe to the Unbroken Line, Tyrant of the Eastern Mountains lounged upon his elevated throne with vainglorious aplomb as his hands came together to form a slow, celebratory applause for his visitor.

"Bravo. Bravo... A superb showing towards the end... Simply magnificent!" The dark tones echoed across the room, a fanged and menacing smile curling across his scaled muzzle. "If you had so much power behind you, why didn't you use it from the start? You could have saved your friends that way, O Hero," the dread voice rang with a brutal, mocking bluntness. "I want you to know, you had me worried. I thought you would all perish towards the end. How terribly droll that would be, don't you agree?"

Despite the voice being calm and confident, the Demon Lord's words threw themselves against the walls with such gravitas that each syllable rattled the fox's entire body. Above his arms, onyx arm-like wings joined into the clapping, providing a duet of praise for the hero. Ruby claws impacted with each firm gesture as the resounding applause echoed thorough the room.

_ _

"I hope that you had a most pleasant stroll through my castle. I will have you know that you put on quite the spectacle! I was somewhat disappointed with the skill of your companions, but you must agree that you can't obtain fine wine without crushing a few grapes along the way, no? Look at you, spirited up and rearing to go. Shall we see what fine wine you have become?"

The voice of the Demon Lord was enough to make Rell sick. Mocking, triumphant, and exuding a nauseating arrogance. The all-important tone that only dragons could muster, as someone who knew everything and who none could defy. More chillingly was the complete and utter lack of worry or caution that this dragon was showing. He did not even regard the fox as a challenger. Or a threat. This dragon viewed him as an amusing pastime.

The Tyrant was unquestionably a dragon, carrying the pride of the scaled kin. Armoured in the most lustrous, regal coating of purple scales which faded to a paler colouration towards his torso and stomach. They probably turned softer there. A possible weak point. Hints of shimmering, dark outcroppings were peppered upon the Demon Lord's back where Rell could see it, from the wings themselves to his tail which sprouted into craggy, spiky protrusions along his forearms.

An intimidating set of jet-black horns curved and swept along his brow and arched behind the Demon Lord like a crown, born from the body itself and heralding his birthright as a ruler. It was accentuated by a brilliant ruby set into its centre, gleaming with a hidden depth. Rell could feel the unholy magic exuding from it. The source of his powers, perhaps? The horns glowed faintly with a purple sheen, the veins of magic visible beneath the surface where they shimmered with a pulsing light.

Behind his shoulders were a set of dark, massive wings, with large ruby talons clasped around them like a set of daggers, resting against the scales. They looked like an extra set of hands, and by the way they clapped, most likely had been trained to function as such. He would have to treat this enemy as if it had four arms.

This was the 'lord' of the castle. The Tyrant of the Eastern Mountain. Ruler of this domain, and the most troublesome sort of enemy. Nothing short of a demon, this creature enjoyed playing with his victims. But today, the Tyrant would fall. Rell would wedge his sword deep inside the Demon Lord's chest, and he would cleave the evil one asunder as repayment for his fallen comrades. But he could not let anger rule him. He needed information. He could not afford to act brashly. Not when another life was still at stake.

Proudly, Rell made his own voice boom, hiding the uncertainty behind a force of confidence.

"Grrr... Do you enjoy mocking us so, fiend?! Where did you take Coal?!" the fox demanded. Unlike others of his kin, he had never needed to spend time tricking people or deceiving people, but he could make do. He still knew the basics. Make a persona. Pretend to be someone you're not. Convince yourself you are that person. Convince the others that you are that person. The basis of all trickery was deception. And currently, he let the veins of justice and anger rise to the forefront of his mask. If he could make the demon believe this too, it would give him an edge. He could make the Tyrant drop his guard, however momentarily.

"Coal? Please, I have several mines in the vicinity. I cannot possibly know where all my coal gets ferried. Do be a bit more specific, perhaps?" A trunk-like arm lifted, casually disregarding the fox's statement, feigning bemusement at his choice of words. This was not the response Rell expected, and the casual tone took him off guard. He had to press on regardless.

"The minotaur. My companion. You took him! Where?! Tell me where he is or I will slay you where you sit!" The fox shouted his words, putting every bit of his restrained fury into them. He took several steps forward, stopping once he had made it clear he was being serious.

"Oh. Worried, are you?" came the singsong, sickeningly sweet voice in return, fluttering with tones of amusement. "And what will you do if I say that he is dead?"

A cold sensation crawled down Rell's spine. No. He knew this Demon Lord was just toying with him, he could not let his emotions get the better of him. Keep the act up. A look of surprise flashed across the fox's face. Gritted teeth. Snarled fury, thinly restrained.

"Then I will kill you," the fox spat back at the Demon Lord.

"Finally, now we're getting into the spirit of things."

_ _

Before Rell could make the first move, the large, draconic Tyrant placed his arms on the armrest and, with a condescending look, rose from the throne. Jet-black claws touched upon the marbled floor before the Demon Lord took a step forward. Only, his feet didn't come down on the next step - they came down on the air itself. Slowly, he floated down towards the floor instead of descending the stairs of his dais.

Finally, ebon claws clacked upon the marbled floor - only the dragon was not yet done. Arms lifted to the sides, gouts_of purple flame erupted from upturned, scaled hands as Rell bore witness to snake-like fire that writhed its way towards the sky in a sign of magical superiority. A brilliance flowed with the darkness, and Rell felt a wave of nausea catch within his chest. _This magic made him want to throw up. As easily as the twin infernos had been conjured, the dragon clenched his fists, extinguishing the magic, as though not deeming it worth using.

A tremble ran down the fox's spine. The gap in power was too wide. This level of trickery would never work against this dragon. Maduin was just toying with him. Rell had prepared himself for a challenge but coming face to face with the enormous, magical Demon Lord was hammering in just how much bigger the dragon was, in both strength and size. Standing at least eight feet tall, he was heads above the smaller swordman. But Rell could not back down. He had too much to lose.

Rell raised his sword and the faint breeze rustled along his fur. The distance between the two combatants vanished in a fraction of a moment as the fox dove into a forward charge_._ His chest burned with a strange sensation, like a blue ember that flared more vividly than the fox had felt before. Rell's eyes grew slitted and the world came to life with colour, painted with fury and conviction. It happened again - the world seemed alive as scents, stenches, movement all painted themselves in clear vivid abstractions. The stagnant air whirled, whipping itself to life and steel whistled as it flowed. Even the Demon Lord couldn't dodge this.

_ _

A susurration of leaves danced within the distant corners of the fox's mind as he set upon the Demon Lord, who lifted a wing to brace for the attack. Rell could see the expectation in the Tyrant's eyes.Anticipation. Carried by the wind, the fox's body raced across the floor, steel lifting for a swing, only for the sword to draw a blue trail across the air as the fox sidestepped. Rell dug a foot into the ground and kicked off, changing the angle of his charge away from the shielding wing without losing momentum. For the first time a look of surprise crossed the Tyrant's face, and it grew again as the fox then kicked off the very air itself a split second later. A second direction-change. A ripple hung in the air where his foot had impacted the emptiness, sending the fox rocketing towards the dragon from an unexpected angle, sword aimed in a lunge towards his exposed stomach.

Clang .

_ _

The sword made its impact. Maduin's arm had come up, and blocked Rell's sword. The strike had been absorbed by his forearm and the myriad of dark spikes that formed a natural carapace along its length.

The steel had simply stopped.

The realization of this cut deeper than any blade could. Rell's sword could cut stone. It could cut steel. His eyes widened and an expression of horror crossed Rell's face. How had he done it!? His arm had moved faster than he could see.

The Tyrant's only response was a whistle, admiring the blade which he had just been struck with, the gem atop the dragon's brow now gleaming faintly with residual magic.

"Really, my compliments to the blacksmith. Stellar move, too... But did you really think that magic of this calibre would be enough to wound me?" The jesting tone sounded jovial from the Demon Lord, whose expression suddenly carried a dangerous smile of sharpened steel.

"Now, I think it's my turn, yes?"_The purple dragon smiled a cruel smile, before Rell saw one of the wings starting to move. _His sword was caught on Maduin's black carapace. Rell gave the sword an instinctive pull, but it was stuck.

The ruby wing-claws glinted as they balled into a fist. A blinding black flash exploded into red, and Rell felt like he was being struck by a cannon. Air escaped Rell's lungs, gravity lost its hold on the fox, and his body was hurled several feet away. Muscles creaked and his body ached as he caught himself, the fox's feet digging into the ground like an anchor. It was the only thing he could do to prevent himself from falling over.

"Come now, I went through all the trouble of tricking your friend into leading you deeper into my castle despite your losses, at the least present me with a worthy challenge."

_ _

Rell froze where he stood, clutching his sword. His expression painted with surprise. Pain. Realization. He had wanted to leave. He had wanted to do the sensible thing. But Coal had-

"Ah, yes. There we go. Now you are making a wonderful face. Did you not stop to wonder why you were feeling so emotional lately? My magic does wear on the mind. It helps my whispers reach far and wide." Maduin smirked.

_ _

It was a trap. It had all been a trap.

_ _

No. It couldn't have been. Rell refused to believe it.

Slowly, the fox attempted to regain his composure, but the chill of doubt could not be shaken. Lies or not, one thing was certain. Trickery would not work against Maduin. No surprise attacks would land. The difference in strength was too great. This demon could hit as hard as Coal, if not worse, without even using a weapon.

"You... You demon," Rell hissed, trying valiantly to reclaim his posture after suffering a single strike. Rell realized that he had dug his sword into the ground beneath him, using it as a makeshift walking stick to keep his balance up while he regained feeling in his legs. Just one strike, and he felt almost numb. It was a miracle he had managed to retain a hold of his sword during the blow. He was unsteady and shaky. But Coal needed him.

"I will defeat you!" Rell's words left his mouth, and his sword lifted once more. The tip had grown chipped and dull from the last strike. Not good. The sword couldn't handle many more swings like that. He just needed to get past that natural armour. If Rell couldn't catch him by surprise, he would just have to be faster_. Faster. He needed to go faster._ His shaky breathing stilled, and Rell found his composure once more.

"You still do not seem to know what my title means. Let me remind you," Maduin's words cut back, before the Demon Lord strode forward by a single step. A single step was enough, and Rell's vision was obscured as Maduin stood before him, having crossed the entire room. Dark trails leaked from the edges of the purple scales and Rell saw the empty depths that glowed behind the dragon's eyes.

Blindingly fast, one of the Tyrant's wings curled downwards and the ruby claws hooked into the garb the fox was wearing. The world turned upside down as Rell was hurled through the air. Rell tried to ready himself, but this time the winds slipped past him, refusing to yield a perch to him as they had before. Refusing to assist him. Was he no longer worthy? Had he been so rattled?

_ _

His arms and legs curled, trying desperately to soften the blow. With a bone-cracking impact, Rell's body crashed into the dais. Air exploded out of Rell's lungs, a pained gasp expelling itself as bones and fur cried out in agony. His ears rang and the taste of iron spread across his tongue, and the distant clatter of metal signalled that his hand had lost grip of his weapon in the impact. Rell silently offered a thanks for the protection spell that had been woven around him.

"You know. Your teammates might have been worthless, but I'm getting more and more interested in you. Your enhancements are paltry, but you keep standing up. I can hear your bones starting to break, but I can sense that you're still not giving up. Your type really doesn't know how to take the easy way out, do you?" The Demon Lord's taunts dug deep, like thorns. The dark words struck with a piercing strength that reminded Rell about their difference again and again. It was almost enough to keep him down. Almost.

But he couldn't fall. Not now. It was not his choice to make. Slowly, Rell stood back up again. One hand helping him balance against the dais, the other clenching around his sword until his knuckles hurt. His sword had found its way back to his hand. How? Rell wondered, he was certain he had lost it.

"Don't call them useless_!_" Rell growled back. His voice filled with vitriol and more bite than even he knew he still possessed. "They are the reason I'm still standing here. They are the reason you're going to fall."

A deep, raucous laugh echoed along the throne room. Again the dragon reared up, expression twisted into one of absolute delight, as if he had heard the greatest joke of the century. Again the dragon's hands came up, and the fiend started to clap. "Wonderful. Splendid. You finally came up with some proper lines!" his voice bubbled with excitement and joviality both, as if he had hoped that this would happen. "Really, if not for your abject failure to save your team, you would sound like an actual hero. I have made my decision now."

There was a faint pause, before the Demon Lord took another step and, this time, vanished from sight by dissolving into a trail of dark, twisting motes. Immediately, Rell's nerves stood at attention. He heard a rustling behind him. Twisting on the spot, the fox half-stepped to the side, bringing his sword up and expecting an attack. Instead, he saw the Demon Lord simply sitting before him, once again on the throne atop the dais. As if their entire fight had just been a quick warm-up exercise.

"I am going to have you."

The words sent a chill through Rell's spine where he stood at the bottom of the dais. His hands both tightened around the sword, holding it close to his centre.

"Never," came Rell's reply, which only served to pull the purple muzzle into a faint smile.

"This is what I love about heroes. You always do make decisions with your hearts and never quite think about things, do you? But that was not a request. Approach."

_ _

The Demon Lord's words still carried the hints of amusement, but when the dragon lifted a clawed hand towards the fox and issued an order, there was nothing but iron dominance. It felt as if the world itself threatened to suffocate Rell, and before the knight knew what was happening, his leg was already moving. Step by step, Rell started climbing the stairway at the front of the dais. The steps were small, but each short movement of his feet carried with them a knowledge that he couldn't stop it. Step. Step. Step.

" Stop. "

Rell halted in front of Maduin with his sword arm at his side, the length of steel hanging rigidly from a clenched fist. Move. His arm refused to budge. Even sitting, the dragon towered above the fox. Sitting on the throne with his legs spread to the sides, the draconic fiend looked twice as imposing, with his eyes boring into the weary figure before him. With a languid, fluid motion the purple dragon lifted his right hand and Rell felt one of the stony, craggy digits extend to his jawline, before hooking under his furred chin and cupping the knight's face.

"Now, aren't you quite the cute one. I must say, I adore the tenacity. And for someone with a paltry amount of training, you move quite well for a Runetail." There was a dark rumble, a draconic purr_that started deep within the Demon Lord's throat and emanated out between the pleased dragon's teeth. It soon changed to a brief tone of confusion at Rell's own uncertain expression. Rell opened his mouth, but closed it shortly after. _Nothing he could say would improve his position.

"What, don't tell me... You didn't know?"_came Maduin's next words. Maduin started and, for the first time, Rell saw something that was akin to true confusion in the draconic tyrant. Slowly, the confusion settled into another expression of _delight. An enjoyment of a secret only one participant was privy to. Rell's arm strained against the magical bonds that prevented him from moving, but it was fruitless, and he failed to take an offensive stance. He was powerless, forced to endure the verbal treatment.

Slowly the Demon Lord's hand stroked along the fox's chin, giving the knight goosebumps. The fiend was treating him with what felt like a mock affection; how dared he?

"Don't worry. As long as you behave, I will play nice. And I will even tell you what your parents failed to do. Tell me, did they die in mysterious circumstances while you were young? Runetails don't often go traveling far from their roots. Oh, what a tragic past you must have." The purple dragon seemed to delight in his own words, drawing it out like a theatrical scene. Curiosity, intrigue, and enjoyment played upon the dragon's features, while Rell's face scrunched up into a thin, gritted sneer.

There was a moment of consideration before the large dragon simply laughed again, as if the words he had uttered had just been a light-hearted joke and it was time to give the fox a morsel.

"Consider it a gift for such good entertainment. You're a Runetail. Or Many-tails, as some call them. Surely, as you know, you hold magic inside, yes?" the Tyrant continued, letting the words hang in the air. Yet when no answer came, the twitch of a smile tugged his lips again. "So... you really didn't know, and yet you can already use the air as your ground, and call the weapons you are bonded with?"

Rell tensed. His sword... Now that the Demon Lord said it aloud, flashes of memory cut through his attention. When the gargoyle had fought him, he'd thought it fortunate that the sword had been thrown with him. When the blade had been caught on Maduin's arm, had he really tugged it free? His breathing raced.

_ _

"I am impressed! When you get a little older and your other tails start growing in, I'll make sure you get trained properly. Doesn't that sound nice?"

_ _

"I'd rather die," Rell spat back, his face scrunching up into as much of a snarl as he could. Slowly, he could feel the commanding magic peeling away from around his fur. It only lasted a little while. Perhaps he could buy some time.

"That can be arranged, and I will make your minotaur into my new toy instead," the Tyrant's response came, cutting down any option of playing any further games. Those words struck harder than a warhammer could ever hope to manage. Every time Rell had an idea, it felt as if the dragon had already anticipated it and had prepared a cruel blow in return.

A part of him already knew that this was coming. Rell felt a disgusting urge well up inside of him. A black, tar-like feeling of hopelessness, as if a small part of him had hoped and prayed that it would not come to this. That if he could just fight hard enough, he could avoid the Demon Lord turning his attention to the last remaining member of Rell's team. The knight's face scrunched up, every muscle tensing, baring teeth at the Demon Lord.

"Ah... There we go. Another excellent reaction." There was something so annoyingly displeasing about the joy_the fiend took from his misery. How far would he need to stoop before he could get the demon to stop toying with him? Yet Maduin didn't seem to want to give him much chance to dwell on his thoughts before continuing. "_In testament to your tenacity, I am going to make you a deal. Kneel for me, O Hero. Do this, and I will ensure that no harm comes to your precious Coal."

_ _

"How do I know you won't just lie? Your entire domain is just lies piled on lies," came Rell's rebuttal, tones of desperation and wilfulness creeping into his words. "You amuse yourself with my suffering. How... do I know you will even keep your word if I tarnish my pride? A monster like you would surely revel in torturing me, only to snatch away the hope you offer at the end!" The disgusted feeling that was crawling up Rell's stomach was joined with an icy sensation of worry that climbed down his spine. It made his tail bristle and stand on end. Was he really going to debase himself in front of the thing he hated the most in this entire place?

To this, the Tyrant clucked his tongue, his eyes becoming harder as they peered down at the fox.

"It doesn't matter. If I wanted, I could kill you here and now. My servants are probably breaking in your cute little bull as we speak. I could even kill the rest of your party if I so feel inclined. All that has the hope of stopping me is you doing some very simple things. Perhaps it will cost you your pride, but are you saying that's worth more than the lives of your friends?" His words were firm and stern, like a lecturing elder, with only a hint of enjoyment curling in at the end. "See, that made you perk up."

Rell's face flushed with red-hot embarrassment. The Demon Lord was drawing this out deliberately, and when he paused for dramatic effect, Rell's eyes widened. His heart had skipped a beat, only for the Tyrant to rub in how predictably he was acting.

"I... What do you mean!? I saw them. I-I saw them-" Rell stammered, his face a hot mess of anger, surprise and consternation. Though now with a very, very thin veneer of hope.

"Your mage companion. The adorable little dragonling that you brought with you, with more scales than sense, triggered one of my traps and turned to stone. Surely, you realize that since I have the power to design traps that turn a creature to stone, I also have the power to undo it?"_the Demon Lord spoke, his words sounding as casual as if he were having a light chat over a meal. "_And your little scout, the endearing thing that he was, got eaten by one of my minions. A shapeshifter. A Mimic, I think your dear Coal called them? Truly, you commoners have such fascinating names for things. Regardless, I can tell you have little knowledge on these creatures. It does take a day or so for them to digest their meals. If you get to him quickly enough, he should still be alive."

There was a deliberate pause, and Rell knew that Maduin could see the wheels turning in his head. _His team was alive._His team could be saved. They hadn't died. They still had a chance. _"Of course, we can sit here and talk for the rest of the day if you prefer, O Hero?"_the fiend continued, letting those words hang in the air.

Maduin posed it as a question, but the meaning behind the words was clear. Duty and pride fought within Rell, tearing at each other with claws and teeth. His turbulent inner emotions digging at his mind, the fox found himself frozen once again. For what felt like an eternity, the fox fought with himself with his fists clenched. His friends hadn't died. He could still save them. He could still fix things. He could save Coal.

Slowly, inch by inch, the proud knight sunk. His frame grew smaller and smaller until his knees rested upon the ground, a deliberate move of submission. His breath caught in his throat, and his hands folded over his lap, releasing his weapon. His frame shuddered and his ears folded low to his skull. He didn't want to believe he was doing this. His fur trembled, and a shiver ran the length of his spine to the very tip of his tail. With a defeated bow, his body knelt before the Demon Lord, staring into the marbled floor with his head lowered in defeat.

Above him, the Demon Lord rumbled approvingly, a dark grunt uttered at seeing the hero finally succumb. "There we are... This is a much more fitting place for you. Luckily for you, I am a Lord of my words. Now, let us put your conviction to the test," the dragon spoke, and Rell could see that one purple-scaled foot had lifted from the ground, splaying its ebon claws wide. A moment later the leathery hide pressed down on the fox's face, and the pressure pushed down until Rell almost buckled under its weight.

The dragon rolled the softer parts of his scaled sole along the furred face, taking a sadistic pleasure in watching the fox squirm. Squishing down on Rell's soft fur, the Demon Lord bore downwards until the fox was forced to actively press back against the plush hide to keep from buckling over. Rell's hands came down to the ground to support himself, and his face burned hotly with shame as he was used as the Tyrant's footrest.

Rell had thought Maduin smelled bad before, but the pungent sweetness that mixed with the guttural dirt, sweat and a blend of other odours that Rell couldn't even place was enough to make the initial stench pale by comparison. Slowly, his cold nose was pressed between the toes and worked along the ball of the dragon's foot. He felt it mercilessly squished against the softer underside, making him intimately acquainted with each inch of it.

"Come now, clean it. With your tongue ," the words came, leaving no room for a retort. The knight had submitted willingly, but he felt cinders of anger starting to build inside him. He had thought he was prepared for what he was going to be subjected to, but the Demon Lord seemed intent on making it worse than what Rell had even imagined possible. Vile curses grew on his tongue, but they were bitten down before they could sprout into unwise decisions. His face grew shades deeper red, and the Demon Lord could most likely tell that his needling commands were working.

Wordlessly, Rell opened his mouth and, with great reluctance, his tongue started scraping along the underside of the draconic foot. Slowly, surely, the vulpine forced his tongue to drag along the rough surface, leaving wet, damp trails as inch after inch was covered in his saliva. His tongue was starting to dry, and each lap was making his mouth feel more coarse. His tastebuds felt like they were being violated, the sickly scent slowly smearing across each one like an unholy concoction of flavours while he dutifully cleaned the sole.

Rell forced his jaws to remain open despite the crawling feelings of disgust. The sweet scent translated into a saltier flavour as his sensitive tongue slathered upon the Demon Lord's hide. Before long, his face was moving with slow, mechanical motions. His tongue was leaving damp patches along the white hide, the fox forced to wet it again and again, trailing the contours of Maduin's sole; from the distant heel all the way up to the ball of the draconic foot, only for further verbal instructions to command the fox to clean the spaces between the toes.

A smirk of sadistic, carnal excitement was draped across the Demon Lord's face when Rell dared to peek up from underfoot. With Rell's tongue slowly being drenched in the taste of sweat, dirt, and briny sweetness, he felt like throwing up. But gagging just prompted the purple dragon to pop one of the largest toes into the vulpine's maw, and a single order was enough to remind the fox of his position. " Suck." Each word made Rell's cheeks burn more. Indignation smouldered in his eyes, but he knew better than to go against the dragon's orders.

His lips locked around the purple-scaled toe and, in the most embarrassing moment of his life so far, Rell started to suckle on the thick, rounded digit. He worked slowly, measuredly, trying not to retch as the toe plugged his mouth up, pinning his tongue to the bottom of his jaws. He felt the claw slowly massage it with its pointed tip, its sharp presence an unspoken threat. Rell forced himself to let the purple-scaled digit sink inwards, one knuckle at a time, until his lips touched upon the base. It felt like a wriggling worm that made his jaws ache.

"Good. Next," came the order from above, and Rell felt another shiver. One by one, he was forced to tend to each of the thick, rounded digits in turn.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the Demon Lord pulled his foot away and Rell hoped beyond hope that this would spell the end of his torment.

A quick glance upwards however told the knight that it was about to get much, much worse. The last vestiges of hope that the fox had built up were summarily dashed as he spotted the looming, towering bulge in the Demon Lord's loincloth, tenting out the silken fabric.Glancing further up only revealed a purple, fang-filled expression peering down at him with a knowing smile.

"Tell me, Runetail. You pride yourself on your skills of handling a sword; come, let us see how you handle the Demon Lord's very own. Surely one such as yourself will have no problems, hmm? Or do you deny having any experience with this?"

The full weight of the situation finally sunk on Rell. He was going to be violated in both mind and body. The Demon Lord was not going to let him go undamaged in any way, shape, or form. Rell's face burned, and his expression twisted into one of visible disgust now that the demon's intentions were fully revealed. Rell glanced to the side, his face bright with humiliation and shame.

"Are there no depths you will not sink to in order to humiliate me, you fiend?"

" Humiliate you? Why would I bother to humiliate you further, my dear footstool? You're here to be used. It is by my enjoyment that your friends remain alive, and their lives hinge on how compliant you can be. If you can throw away your own pride for the sake of the greater good," Maduin responded, the dark voice taking on a playful, almost impish tone as he went on. "You have come so far; it would be a shame to ruin it at the climax of it all. Besides, we both know that you're used to handling this type of sword, my dirty little hero~ It might be a bit bigger than what you're used to but, trust me. You'll get used to it."

Those words were enough to send a chill down Rell's tail. For several moments, the knight held his breath. When he finally exhaled, it was a quivering, shuddered one. Delaying further would have repercussions. Slowly, little by little, the fox moved his face forward until his snout bumped against the inside of Maduin's thigh. His soft, wet nose gently brushed against the purple scales, and he gave Maduin a tender lick along those inner scales while slowly working his way inwards... drawing nearer to the base of the tented loincloth. Sickeningly sweet. Bitter. Salty. Masculine. Damp. The concoction of scents grew stronger and stronger as he went, but it was no use fighting it any further. He had almost gotten used to it now. His snout pressed against the silken cloth, and the bulge_pulsed_ against his nose.

"Rhhh... Much better," came a reassuring growl_from above. An appreciative rumble of tyrannical delight at seeing the fox fall into compliance. "_Are you fantasizing that I'm your dear Coal, perhaps? I did deliberate if I should implant an illusion and make you see me as your darling bull... But I think I prefer you this way. Your hesitance is simply delightful."

_ _

"...Just... Shut up," came the defeated, lowly whine from under Rell's breath, whispered directly into the dragon's loincloth. Slowly, Rell opened his mouth. His face felt aflame with heat and anticipation racing through every nerve before he finally bit, very carefully, into the loincloth of the Demon Lord, pulling it to the side and exposing the dragon's pride. Rell's breath caught in his throat as the cloth fell along the side of the thick length. Huge. Impossible. Far bigger than Coal.

_ _

The fox's cheeks flushed with an even deeper shade of red, seeing the behemoth he was being made to serve up close. The dragon's pale, cream-coloured front scales faded into deep purple flesh, and he could see darker bumps nestling along the base of its trunk. A crystal droplet of clear fluid had already beaded along the very tip, where folds of skin had been pulled back by the sheer size of the engorged length. Two hefty, fat balls hung beneath the throbbing, pulsating monster, and Rell could hear a faint churning from within them where they rested on the throne's edge. Rell had to simply stare at the monstrous package for several moments, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes, is it not the most impressive blade you have witnessed? But you will have plenty of time to admire your new Lord in the future. Here, let me assist you," ** ** _the dragon's words rumbled down from overhead, cooing with a satisfied tone. Rell hadn't noticed the creeping wing that had drawn closer, and his entire body flinched as the wing locked its ruby claws around the back of his skull and _pushed him forward until his face was buried under the dragon's monstrous size. Rell could feel the sheer _weight_of it press against his face for the singular moment the dragon let him remain still, before his snout was forcibly lifted and dragged along the underside of the engorged length.

Rell did his best not to breathe. Not to smell. Not to inhale, but it was a futile endeavour. Even while trying his hardest not to use his nose, he could still smell the fiend on his tongue. The way the sickly-sweet flavour clung to every tastebud. It felt like a cloying miasma that permeated the very air surrounding him, and it made a tingling sensation race through his body.

_ _

"No, if I wanted to humiliate you, I would call on your little boytoy and have him watch as you serve your new Lord,"_Maduin continued, casually resuming the prior conversation. "_I could give him the same option that I gave you while you spend your time on your hands and knees, serving as my footstool and spit-shining my claws. I could put you in my lap and slowly work my essence into you while he makes the decision on whether he wants to escape with his own life, while his lover remains to be slowly broken by my hand. I could have him tied down and force him to watch as I have every servant in this castle take turns on you. That would be humiliation." The delighted voice rumbled from above with each word, filtered through what could only be described as a draconic purr. A deep, emanating vibration that sifted from Maduin's draconic throat, deeply entrenched with tones of satisfaction. "Now. Go ahead. Kiss it."

_ _

The words of command etched themselves deep. Rell couldn't move. The words echoed again and again inside his head, bearing down against him, and it took all his strength to resist. He was trapped. Worse, his body was starting to feel feverishly warm. Staying this close to the dragon was influencing him. His mere presence was making the fox shiver, and a tingling enjoyment was starting to build in his core. Rell could feel his body slowly start to betray him. Was there even a point in resisting anymore?

Sensing the hesitation, the dragon's wing urged down on his head, and the very tip of that impossibly big, draconic, oily flesh rubbed against his lips. The pressure increased, and Rell could feel it trying to force his mouth open. Little by little, Rell opened his jaws. His mouth quivered, and flesh met flesh. Furred and soft meeting with slick, glistening cockflesh. Carefully, almost tenderly, the fox's mouth closed around the crown.He had to keep fighting... But wouldn't it be easier if he complied, just a little? If he did what the Demon Lord wanted, things could become a little better.

The fox gave the dark, oily skin the faintest of suckles, trying to ignore the taste. Bitter, yet sweet. Pungent. ...Tasty._The knight refused to admit it. It was just another demonic trick. Locking his jaws against it, he only managed to fit half of the crown into his lips. It was so _different from Coal. Where Coal ended in a blunted, flat tip, this demon had a rounded, spongy head. Where Coal's malehood was thinner towards the middle and flared out into a proud crown, this demon started big and just got bigger around the midsection. Where Coal was bitter and tasted like musk and sweat, the dragon tasted sweet like honeyed nectar, with a salty undertone. The fact that it was not the worst thing he had ever tasted somehow made Rell feel a stinging sensation in his stomach.

_ _

Rell had never thought he'd ever see anything bigger than the minotaur, but this was starting to make his jaws ache with just the crown alone. It took Rell several seconds to be able to fit the head of the dragon's length properly inside his jaws - sinking the first few inches in was a herculean task by itself. Even his elongated muzzle couldn't properly fit more than a fraction of the Tyrant's length inside.

"Look at you, slobbering over the Demon Lord's sword. It's a good thing you have trained so much, hmm? Don't be shy now, it's all yours. Let's see if you have the skill to wield it properly."_Maduin bore an amused expression on his face. Rell did not have the chance to react before his entire face was promptly _shoved down by the ruby claws that had locked themselves around his skull like a clamp.

"GHHKK-!" was the only noise that Rell managed to utter as his face was forced down upon the enormous length, leaving his snout pushed against the fiend's heated groin. All the way down, Rell found his muzzle squashed against heated scales, being forced balls-deep on the purple dragon. His eyes bulged, tears starting to build in their corners from the sensation of suddenly being made to deepthroat the behemoth of a cock. His hands came up by instinct and within a moment the fox's arms were steadying themselves on the large, purple thighs surrounding him to keep his balance. His throat ached, forced to stretch wider than it was ever meant to be, and the knight felt his head growing hazy as he was held in place, using every ounce of his strength to not lose control of his airway.

"I knew you had what it took to take it all the way... Your throat makes such a perfect scabbard for my sword, don't you think? 'The Demon Lord's Scabbard'... Such a fitting title for you. Much better than a footstool, isn't it?" the demon laughed, his face twisted into a satisfied, fanged expression as he admired_the view between his legs, watching as the fox choked on his dick. "_Getting a scabbard of such quality... It was truly worth it to spread those rumours of me among your order."

"...!!!?" _Rell's face lit up in surprise,_but the knight didn't have any room to utter any kind of response. Not a single word could escape him, and nothing but choked whimpers managed to gurgle free of the fox's throat. He had to focus on holding his breath, not knowing when the dragon would let him come up for air. No amount of training could prepare him for this kind of treatment.

Rell felt the fingers at the back of his head start to grind him in place, twisting his head left and right, gyrating his lips against Maduin's scaled crotch. The dragon ensured that he was forced to press his snout and mouth directly against the warm, welcoming scales, trapping him in a deep, unwilling, intimate kiss with that musk-tinted crotch. Seconds trickled away like minutes, each feeling like an eternity with the monster of a slab forcibly buried inside his throat. Black spots began to blot his vision. His head started to recoil, to pull back, his hands weakly pushing against the Tyrant's thighs to no avail - he was forced to stay put for as long as the dragon deemed him to.

Rell could feel his body growing weak, and stars were starting to dance before his eyes by the time he felt the merciful grasp of the claws start to pull him back, slowly extracting him from the cream-coloured groin. With agonising slowness the slick, saliva-coated spire was forcibly pulled out of his throat, and Rell was forced to watch with wide eyes as inch after slimy inch left his mouth with wet, lewd noises before _popping_out of his throat, leaving the upper part resting inside his jaws.

A merciful breath of air finally met his lungs as the fox inhaled as sharply as he could. Hungrily, desperately eating down lungful after lungful of sweet, nourishing air, filtered around the dragon fiend's cock, no longer caring that it still rested inside his mouth where it slowly leaked onto his tongue. Rell coughed around the cockslobber that threatened to ooze down his throat with every pull of air, making the slime run down the sides of his cheek as it overflowed his face in thick, viscous rivulets.

"Look at you, you have a talent for this. I can barely fit half of this in others, you know? You were truly made for this, my dear hero. The way your throat clamps down around my cock like a slovenly whore in heat... Rhh... I will enjoy you," the purple dragon rumbled back, his expression softening into one of admiration and languid, carnal enjoyment at the heroic feats that were being pulled by the little knight_. "Now, go on. Start moving, or I'm pushing you down again. And if I do, I will keep you down there."_

_ _

Rell froze for a moment. Would he really? Was he really going to...? The claws didn't leave his head, remaining as a threat. Rell had already been pushed to his limits and then some. He already felt the gentle, threatening urging of a pressure against the top of his head and, before even making up his mind, instincts began pushing his tongue back down, slurping it along the exposed, dripping cockhead, curling it around the crown. His mouth found the tip once more and Rell started to tend the dragon again, sinking all the way down upon the behemoth of a cock.

Up and down. Up and down, the fox forced himself to move his mouth around the thick monster that the dragon was sporting. His jaws ached more and more with every moment as the thick meat pushed into his mouth again and again, defiling his tongue with every forced shove. Drooling rivers of draconic essence were being force-fed into his jaws, leaving Rell to swallow it down by the mouthful as his tongue served as a pillow for the thick spire. The occasional urges of the claws around his skull reminded Rell to push further, forcing the fox to relax his throat as much as he could manage to let the behemoth squash into his gullet. The alternative ached far too much. Each push bulged out his furred throat from the inside, letting the Demon Lord see exactly how far he was managing to fit inside the fox.

"Aaah... The way your throat can fit it all so easily is commendable , like a well-practiced slut. Look at you, pretending to be such an upstanding and heroic little figure. What if your Commander were to see you like this, hmm? Would he brand you an outcast, or do you think he'd demand that you work on him next?" the Demon Lord's words showered from above, like stinging drizzles of insults. Words of humiliation, meant to break him. Rell tried not to think about it. "The Wonderful Knight Rell. Sworn into the Order of Blades. Valiant knight by day but spends his time polishing blades come the night. Sneaking off while on watch to enjoy his bull in secret... Truly, what would they say if they knew?"

_ _

"...Gh!" Rell could not help but let out a choked, gargled noise. How had the dragon learned all of that? His muddled reverie was quickly broken as the claws simply pushed down again, forcing his head down upon the thick slab. Once, twice, slowly settling the fox into a rhythm the dragon preferred before taking a passive role once more when Rell started keeping the motions up himself, straining every time the fat midsection pushed past his jaws and the crown plugged his airways. Breathing became harder and harder. Was the dragon getting bigger? Rell felt another stab of humiliation as he found himself hoping the dragon was getting close.

_ _

Rell's eyes lidded, his pace speeding up. Threading himself down upon the fat spire, he felt gouts of precum lance across the inside of hismouth, forcing himself to swallow it all. He gulped it down, mouthful after mouthful, working the thick shaft until his muscles burned. How was the dragon not finishing yet!?

"Oh, getting eager, are we? Do not worry, if you are this hungry for your Lord's seed, let me assist you," the dragon spoke, and Rell felt those claws tighten around his furred scalp. Rell immediately regretted his decision as the claws on his head shoved him down again and again at twice the speed, forcing his mouth all the way down until it felt as if he was being battered against the demonic crotch. Again and again and again and again, the fox was hammered home until his jaws felt like they would break.

A look of desperation and anticipation took a hold of Rell's face as every muscle in the Demon Lord's body tensed at once. For a moment the world stopped, and he could hear the gurgling flow of heated liquid, until that dark warmth poured down into his stomach. Jet after jet, rope after rope flooding down his throat as he was force-fed the first of the Tyrant's rounds.

Rell's eyes widened, and he felt the sweet burn_reach all the way to his core. It felt like he was being force-fed embers of black-hot flames that rooted inside his stomach, taking hold. Pump after pump, the thick fluids threatened to overfill his entire stomach before the dragon started to pull back. It yielded no comfort or respite as the Lord came to a stop, letting the rest of his seed _coat the insides of the fox's mouth. Painting his inner walls, flooding his cheeks, letting it etch itself onto his tongue. "Savour it," came the first command. Rell squirmed, feeling it pool on his tongue.

"Swallow."

Rell gulped. Slowly, surely, his throat constricted as the fox swallowed the remains of draconic essence that lingered in his mouth, forcing it down into his stomach. His belly was so warm, and he could feel the dark sensation slowly crawling through his limbs. It felt like black ivy, slowly twisting its way within his arms and legs, scraping at his insides. It left a tingling, unpleasant sensation, leaving Rell gasping where he knelt. He could feel the corruption spreading. He felt the demon's essence slowly fighting his body like an illness, leaving its mark inside him.

_ _

Fuck... It felt...

"Yes, feels good, doesn't it, my dear toy? You're no longer a hero, are you, with my essence dripping so readily from your chin," Rell heard the Demon Lord say, before realizing that... he had been smiling. A dopey expression had been stretched across his face and his tongue had been hanging out, panting, like a wanton dog. Like a splash of cold water had been thrown across his face, Rell's expression tightened shut. The knight shook his head, as if to dismiss whatever had come over him, but it was so hard to focus with the burning, dark flame that made his body so unbearably hot.

"That's it... Can you feel the corruption settling in? Slowly wiping away your purity, little by little... Not that you had much purity to start with, my lascivious little hero. Don't worry, I won't stop sculpting you until you're exactly what you're meant to be. Besides, you look like you're enjoying yourself," the Tyrant rumbled, before the fox felt his head tilted downwards, forcing the fox to look at his own body.

The once-hero realized that his own pants were painfully tented, pushing a strained and bulging arousal against the padded cloth... His body had betrayed him completely. He hadn't meant to. It just happened.

"I..." Rell started, trying to cover himself up, but found that his body didn't react. His arms refused to move. What was happening? The warmth was sapping his strength. Draining him.

"Here. Let me help you get more... Comfortable."

Rell realized what was happening as soon as he saw the glow from above. A faint, purple shimmer was gathering around Maduin's outstretched hand, the Tyrant holding it over Rell's face. The glow folded itself into lines, weaving circular shapes inside his demonic palm. Magic. Rell felt too tired to move, and the tingling left a sluggish sensation behind. What was going to happen now?

"W-wait... I..." Rell started, building a faint, feeble protest, before his words cut off into a gasp of surprise at an unbidden touch. Rell's attention was brought downwards, and he realized that purple tendrils were sprouting from the floor and grabbing onto his legs, anchoring them. A fruitless struggle followed as Rell tried to force his legs out of the curling appendage only for more vine-like apparitions to lunge up and grab around him, snaking their way around his thighs.

Rell tried to fight the invader, but his body barely listened to him. Even mustering strength to pull against the increasing grip was an impossible task. Coiling around ankles and feet, the purple, prehensile lengths crawled further, cradling around the root of his exposed tail before the fox felt his tail yanked up and away from the floor. As if the humiliation of being forced to kneel was not enough, he could feel the heated, squirming tentacles reach around his waist, gliding under fur, finding their way under his clothing and armour.

A heated flush spread across the fox's face as he realized what was happening. Three, four, five slinking sensations, heavy and hot, were caressing his body. Stroking along his sensitive fur, leaving the most pleasant,warm sensation. Curling around his contours like a lover, sneaking their way under his shirt, curling around his arms, crawling up around his chest on their way to lap lazily around his neck, while another set started descending past his beltline and curling around his thighs. Involuntarily, Rell felt his knees widen their stance, his arms pulled back and down behind him, leaving him exposed and helpless.

His breath caught in his throat. One of the curling tendrils started wrapping around his bulging length from the inside of the fox's clothes and, a few moments later, started to squeeze.

"Lord...! Ha...have you not... Already... Enough...?" Rell strained a response, one eye reflexively shutting and his teeth gritting together as he felt the slippery, sinuous invader stroking and pulling against his sensitive nethers. It felt so good... No! It was not meant to feel good! A few strokes, and the fox was forced to groan out in delight. A damp patch was already appearing in his pants. He couldn't give in! Not here! Wait...

Why... Why had he used this demon's title?

"Enough, my dear Rell? I have barely gotten started. I told you I would not stop until you were perfect... Don't worry, you are very close. You're even using a title for me! And here I thought you were a noble soul. Does it feel good, to have my friends treat you so nicely? Come now, say my name, my dear Rell. Let me hear you whisper my name, and I shall make this even more pleasant for you."

Rell tried to look away, but the tendril around his neck rose higher and he felt the slimy, warm grasp curl under his chin, forcing his face to look straight at the dragon Lord, holding him there. Slowly, Rell could feel it drag across his cheek, leaving a faint, damp patch against his fur, inviting and gentle. Rell closed his eyes, trying to avoid it, but it continued its slow and sensual dance, caressing his face as if a lover. Then, unexpectedly, a rush of air followed and Rell found himself lifted.

The tendrils around his limbs pulled at his legs, waist, and arms. Just as easily as he had been anchored to the floor, his body was moved against his will until he was forced to stand up straight in front of the Demon Lord. The dragon's hand had stopped glowing and was now reaching forwards towards Rell.

Rell couldn't even look away as the craggy hand_cupped_ the fox's muzzle in his palm. Slowly, a single finger stroked along the underside of Rell's jawline, his thumb coming up to caress his furred cheek. The Tyrant was putting on a front of sickening gentleness, toying with the fox's emotions. Having moved past the threats, now pretending to be a gentle, attentive lover. Rell hated how well it worked and made his insides churn. He was feeling good. He hated how good it was making him feel!

_ _

And yet Rell yearned for more.

The fox's face flushed with humiliation, but his eyes were affixed on the dragon, unable to look away. The determination that he had clung to was waning, and his legs were barely able to stop themselves from quaking with the slimy intruders still gripping around his limbs, tugging along his fur. Exposing him further beneath the clothing. "P-...Please... Maduin... I'll o-" Rell started, only to be interrupted as the dragon Lord pushed his muzzle forward, and the fox felt the purple mouth press against his in a deep, intimate kiss.

Rell could feel his mouth fill with an overwhelming sensation of warmth as the thick, heated, draconic tongue pushed into his mouth and forced his jaws to stretch around the invader. He tried to bite down but found his jaws not able to muster the strength, unable to close even a single inch as the dragon held him in an iron grip. For a moment, Maduin's cheeks puffed up wide, and a moment later, the Demon Lord exhaled - and a deep, warm, and honeyed breath filled the fox's mouth.

"Mhhh-h? Ghhhhk! MhhOohgh Hhooh!!" Rell tried to protest, weakly attempting to thrash his head. His arms tried to flail, mustering what little power he could against the tendrils that held them pinned against his own back. He tried to move, but he was hopelessly, utterly helpless in the Demon Lord's kiss. His jaws were already aching, forced wider and wider as the tongue pushed its way deeper into his mouth, big enough to fill up his entire maw by itself, and as that intoxicating breath flooded his lungs, his entire body went slack.

It tasted like sugar-glazed honey. Trails of opalescent mist leaked out of the fox's maw where it locked with that purple muzzle, until the breath tickled the very back of his throat - drawing another jerking motion from the fox. It was the gentlest of holds, but it felt like being clamped by an iron vice. For several moments the Lord held him there before finally pulling away, letting puffs of glittering mist sift out of his drooling, vulpine mouth, now slack-jawed and limp.

A soft growl escaped the Demon Lord's throat, and his expression turned predatory for a moment as he gazed down at his dazed captive. "Mhhm... An excellent kisser, and so obedient, too... I think I might keep you."

Rell tried to cough, he tried to retch, he tried to shake his head and expel the thick breath that had been forcibly poured into his mouth, but the tentacles held on tight. It stayed in his lungs and roiled in his stomach, swirling around inside of him. The effects were immediate. The searing, heated seed that had been sunk into Rell's stomach bloomed.

From the core of his belly, the essence ignited,_causing it to blossom within his very depths to the tips of his ears. Soon, his very thoughts started burning away within those flames. _What... Was happening? His thoughts no longer moved as they should, sluggish and slow as if pushed through a sieve, arriving fragmented and disjointed. He couldn't take his eyes away from the Demon Lord. The way he smelled felt so alive. It made the colours of the entire room swirl with pleasant patterns.

"There we go... nice and easy. Your Runetail magic should find a particularly pleasant reaction with my essence, there. It should make that first gift truly settle within you," the Lord spoke, eyes bearing down on the fox as one of the invading tentacles - which had remained curled along Rell's jawline - slithered forth to gently grasp the tip of his chin. It curled around it like an attentive partner, tilting the knight's mouth from one side to the other, up and down, letting the dragon Lord inspect_him. "_Just relax... Let it happen. Let it dig its thorns in and take root... It'll feel so very good."

Rell's body was starting to feel hotter than it had ever felt before, violent warmth roiling inside of him until only a sloshing, churning sensation of feverish pleasure remained. His thoughts were growing cloudier by the minute, and it took him several moments to parse that the Demon Lord had spoken to him.

"Ahh... No... Wait. Ahh... Mahh-duin. What have... you done? I can... feel your... essence, spreading..." Rell managed to speak, syllables stumbling over one another as they fought to form a coherent sentence, trying to calm down the budding fog that was clouding up his thoughts.

"Don't worry, it won't kill you. It would be a shame to lose such a rare find," the Tyrant spoke, his playful and coy expression gazing down at the fallen swordsman, taking in the delightful view. The dragon leaned in closer and Rell could see those purple eyes gleaming as they drew so very close to him, while the ruby gem shimmered with layers of colours beneath the surface. The soft, pulsing patterns were impossible to ignore. "I told you that I would keep you... Don't worry, you will enjoy this. Just let me help you get comfortable. Just let your Lord help you, Rell. You feel so very good..."

For the first time he could remember... Rell felt_slow_. His thoughts, usually flowing so free and clear, were stuck in a quagmire of feverish enjoyment. Why did he feel so good? His eyes were affixed on the dragon, trying to keep him in sight with an unsteady gaze while his thoughts swam in and out of focus. Wait... He had been kissed. How dared he. Why was he feeling this way? That tongue had been so warm... So good. He could taste Lord Maduin, still. A drip of saliva was rolling down the side of his jaws, and Rell realized he was drooling where he stood.

His Lord was right. Everything was starting to feel_good._ Even the invaders that were squirming against his skin, trailing along his fur, were starting to feel so pleasant. The way he could feel every wriggling constriction, every slow caress much more keenly than before was driving him mad with need. He felt them slither and writhe, leaving him warmer and slimier with every moment as they rubbed their oily sheen into his fur - feeling as they curled along his feet and squelched between his toes. They were curled around his nethers, and he dimly realised that they had started to squeeze and pump at his most sensitive spot. The way they made his length grind against the rough fabric was enough to make him gasp. When the tentacles pulled at the soft flesh under his tail, spreading his supple, hidden ass, Rell moaned.

_ _

"Oh... you like that, hmm? Your kind truly do live up to the rumours." The Demon Lord's words sifted through Rell's mind with a jovial amusement. Rell knew the stereotype about his kind, but he had no more strength to fight the taunts.

Multiple tendrils dug into the hem of his pants and started undoing clasps and pulling on the cloth until it slid down to the bottom of his thighs, exposing his midsection. Within moments, Rell's length had sprung free. He had been so proud of his size, for packing such a set of equipment for someone of his stature, but it was dwarfed by the dragon who stood next to him, whose nethers reached down between Rell's thighs. Rell's knot was already visible, shamefully testifying to how close he had gotten merely from being toyed with, and the dragon above him rumbled in satisfaction at the view.

_ _

"Oh... Are you close already? Your body is far more honest than you are, my dirty little hero. We shall have to work to ensure your tongue follows suit. Don't worry, we shall have you sing for me soon enough."

The tentacles around his chest started to curl and the fox could not stop wanton groans from slipping out of his mouth as the slimy, warm appendages coiled around the sensitive nubs that hid beneath his fur, squeezing down on his unexpectedly sensitized flesh. His attire was slowly undone, pulled away from his shoulders and falling to the floor around the fox's feet. Rell's orange fur blazed brightly in the throne room's light, entwined with the glistening, contrasting purple captors that wound their way around his body.

Rell's muffled groans took on a pleading tone as the dragon stepped forward until his own chest was pressed against the pale, scaled stomach. Helping himself, the dragon Lord lowered his trunk-like arms, and his hands came down to squeeze Rell's ass; demonic claws digging into the supple flesh, stretching it wide, shunting the teasing tendrils away.

Slowly, his digits worked themselves against Rell's fuzzy cheeks, groping the knight's backside with a gleeful hunger. One finger from each hand eased their way towards the middle, and Rell felt those claws push_past his seal, forcing his pucker to widen under the dragon's strength. Rell's face _twisted from the sensation as his most sacred spot was violated so casually and firmly by Maduin's fingers. His jaws opened and his eyes bulged, but only wordless, raspy gasps managed to escape his mouth. Coated in slime from the tentacles, Maduin's fingers eased themselves deeper into his heated flesh, slowly working one knuckle at a time into the tender entrance, before they both stretched to each side, stretching the fox as far as he could go.

"Aaah-! Nhhh- Gkh!... Haaaaa-!" Rell's grunts and gasps rang across the throne room as the dragon tested his limits.

"Well, quite accommodating, aren't you? I see that my dear Rell is a practiced scabbard in both ends! I shall have to thank your Coal for preparing my new scabbard so well," the Demon Lord_rumbled_ down with a gleeful excitement. Rell's mind flashed at that name.

"P-...lease... Ngh... Maduin... Maduin... Don't...aah- Harm him... Let him go... You promised...Aaahh! He wouldn't- Ghh... be harmed!" the fox's voice sounded out, both needy yet urgent, now that Maduin had brought up his partner again. He had almost forgotten about them. Rell was trying to keep his thoughts together enough to plead for his party's sake despite the fingers pulling at his sensitive ring, making the nerves sing_with pleasure. A rope of precum involuntarily _shot from Rell's tip, staining the Demon Lord's belly.

"Oh, how wonderfully your voice sings my name, little Rell. See? You only need some encouragement. Now don't you worry that pretty little head of yours, I have every intent of keeping that promise.I might be evil, but I do have standards," the Lord replied, purring_his response down to the fox, his baritone voice dangerously tender. It was enough to make Rell's heart skip a beat. Relief and gratitude flooded the knight's head for a moment before a third digit started to work its way into his backside, _stretching the fox further, expelling the remaining air from within Rell's lungs.

"Now, I think you're prepared enough. Let's get you seated, my dear Scabbard. Rejoice , for it is the best seat in the entire castle, and it is all yours tonight..." The words lingered, hanging in the air, dripping sweetly as each syllable rang inside Rell's head and cut through the hazy mire of pleasure that was swamping the corners of his mind. The corruption inside him was eating away the last remaining parts of his resistance, and it was impossible to shake the voice of pure need any longer.

As suddenly as the tendrils had appeared, they lost interest in the fox and started to pull away. No! Stay! Rell's thoughts cried out as the pleasure vanished from around his dripping dick. He was so close. So close... the slimy sensations uncurled from his arms, legs, thighs... and the fox was left simply standing there for several moments, eyes lidded, trying to remember how it felt to be so joyfully wrapped up in their embrace.

With Maduin still standing with his chest pressed against Rell's, the dragon's arousal was oh so close against him. Rell felt the dragon's cock pulse between his legs, and it felt like his weight was almost lifted from the floor by the Demon Lord's size alone, his dick throbbing at attention where it brushed his furred thighs. Each bob of flesh pushed up against his own body with a royal desire, each twitch making the knight's half-lidded eyes clench shut as a pleasured expression pulled at his muzzle.

"Don't fret... you shall get to play with my tentacles more soon. But for this moment, little Scabbard, show me what you want the most right now."

Rell's cock jumped in response. Each pulse_of Maduin's nethers that pushed up between Rell's legs was enough to make the fox _groan in yearning delight. The way the dragon's cock pushed the fox's own sheath upwards with each throb made Rell's malehood jerk in return, working another dribble of clear precum down its front. The way the dragon looked at him - the way those colours swirled, deep within those eyes, deep within the gemstone - it made his entire body tingle with a deep, carnal desire, and Rell found his own hands moving to grope his ass.

Before Rell realized what he was doing, he had turned himself around, and his fingers were digging into his own pliable flesh to spread his ass for the dragon. His breath was laboured and heavy, his words barely coming out as a whisper.

"Please... Lord Maduin... Hilt me. Give me your sword... Please... Fill me up, all the way... I need you. Nhh... Fill your scabbard up!"

"Excellent... Looks like my essence has properly taken hold in you, little Scabbard... When you ask so nicely, how can I possibly resist?" the Demon Lord rumbled out, and the fox felt one hand grab around his waist before the other closed around his big, bushy tail. Rell could feel the fingers curl around the foot of his tail, wrapping his fluffy tail around that purple arm. The fat, heated warmth of the Demon Lord's cock pressed against his back and Rell held his breath, feeling every pulse and prod_as the thick, spongy crown was forced against his rear. _It pushed. The pressure mounted more and more, not yielding, not relenting, until-

Yank!

Rell's tail was wrenched, and his body was forcibly skewered back on the heavy, pressing meat.

Rell's lungs emptied themselves in a single, fell motion. Air erupted out of his lungs from the impact as his insides were stretched wide. His eyes widened, his jaws hung slack, his ass burned_in a way that made the insides of Rell's head melt, and the dragon's heartbeat _throbbed_inside his guts. Rell _keenly felt each pulsation rippling through his heated muscles - sensations that made the fox feel like he was melting. With a single, rock-breaking jerk, the knight had been threaded onto the first quarter of that draconic length, leaving Rell gasping for air.

"Rhhh... Still too tight, little Scabbard... Don't worry, we shall fix that. We shall make you a perfect fit for your new sword before the night's end," the dragon Lord rumbled back, his hand still clutching Rell's waist protectively... before starting to drive_himself home. Inch after slow inch was _forced inside as he admired the budding expressions that blossomed on the fox's face. Watching intently as Rell's features contorted into twisted gasps, stammered grunts, and long-drawn moans while the dragon slowly buried his behemoth of a cock inside the fox's ass.

Heated ropes of precum began painting his inner walls, coating his insides with the demonic essence - lubing him up, making each inch slip in just a little bit easier. His mind swam with beautiful colours, his world was an inferno of pleasured joy, and he felt like he was melting_under the mind-numbing sensation of his backside breaking. The magic that had been woven into his reinforced body ensured that nothing _broke, but it didn't stop him feeling every inch of flaring nerves howl at him as they were stretched far beyond what they were ever intended.

Then for a moment, Rell felt Maduin stop. Offering the fox a hint of mercy, Maduin paused his inexorable entry to let the fox adjust to him, and Rell couldn't stop a long-drawn moan from sifting past his lips to hang in the air. "I'm... I'm going to break... M... Maduin... Lord... Maaahhh...!" Rell gasped, each breath a struggle, every single motion causing jolts of overwhelmed sensations to wrack his mind, scatter his thoughts, and leave no room for anything else.

"Then go ahead and break."

_ _

The words rang through the air, and Rell felt his body quiver. " Just let it happen, and I will put you back together better. Just relax... Thaat's it... That's it... Almost half of the way, my beautiful little Scabbard. You're my precious little toy, and I intend to use you for as long as I desire." The words sifted into Rell's head, never breaking the honey-sweet tone, yet still carrying the darker, hidden notes within them. "I will hollow you out. Your body will exist for my pleasure, and I will fuck you until you won't even remember yourself... Now tell me that you're my scabbard, toy," the dragon continued, worming his words of command deep inside Rell's mind. Each word swirled around the shattered ruins of his trembling willpower, each word rooted itself deep within his vulnerable, pliant mind.

"I'm your Scabbard! I'm your Scabbard!! I'mh... GhaAA-!!" Rell cried out as his body was heaved up from the ground and sunk onto the draconic Tyrant. A massive weight grabbed the underside of his thighs, ruby claws digging into the sides of the orange-furred legs, before spreading them as wide as they could go. Gravity took full hold of Rell's body, spearing him further down on the dragon's length with each subtle motion, slowly forcing him deeper and deeper down on the drooling behemoth. Rell felt himself clutched up against the Demon Lord's chest as the dragon simply sat down, forcing the fox to sit down with him on the Demon Lord's throne.

"Ahhh... There we go... I promised you I would give you the best seat in the castle, did I not? Now, let's make sure you are worked down properly."

_ _

Rell was not given a choice in the matter, and the fox's arms were quickly grabbed, held and wrested up against his own back once more, pinned in place. Within a moment the fox felt himself being lifted back up by the wing claws clutching onto his thighs. Inch after back-breaking inch was slowly pulled out of Rell's hole, only to leave the engorged, thick crown lingering inside his broken ring as it spurted another jet of slick, oily precum deep into the fox's heated insides.

He was held still for several moments, his muscles clamping down on the draconic crown again and again, drawing pleasured trills from the Tyrant behind him. Rell cried out again and again in soft, delicate whines as he was held on the precipice, never given a moment to relax, forced to simply adjust to the gargantuan size inside of him that slowly stretched him out.

"Rhhh... Ready to start this properly, my dear Scabbard?" the Demon Lord growled down at Rell.

"Ahh... Yes... Maduin... Lord... Everything... Feels so warm... So... warm... Like... Melting... I'm melting... and breaking... And it feels... sOoooOo Gooood..." _ Rell's needy whine sounded in return, his mind barely able to believe that these noises were able to come from him. The faint twinges of embarrassment and humiliation were quickly washed away by the raw pleasure as his rear was slowly _broken down by the large dragon.

"Goood... My essence has almost devoured you completely, then. I just need to sand down the edges a little, and you'll be perfect _ . _You will be my fucktoy and servant. My blade and Scabbard both. I will sculpt you to fit my sword, so that I can simply grab you and fit inside you whenever I desire... Does that thought excite you?"

_ _

"_YeeeessssSSsss... _Please... Maduin... Sculpt me... Make me perfect._Make me **yours..."** _ _Rell's voice drawled out in hopeful submission, waves of pleasure washing over his mind with each, dripping syllable that tore away his thoughts and replaced them with nothing but depraved need. Each word filled his head with fantasies about the future to come, how he would serve his Lord dutifully, how he would offer his body to the dragon and let his claws _rake through his fur as he _fucked_him rougher than a minotaur in a rut.

"I might give my servants permission to use you as they see fit. You would be grabbed in the corridors, in the parapets, in the chambers and the lounges. You would be slammed against the walls and used like a cheap toy to help soldiers enjoy themselves. Perhaps I will order you to tend to them in the evenings, and you shall learn to recognize each and every one of them by the feel of their malehoods as they slam inside you."

_ _

"Yes... Please...! Let them... Order them... Just... Please... I'm so close!" the fox cried out, all reason escaped from the once-noble knight's voice, replaced with nothing but desire and pure, carnal need.

"Gooood..." Maduin's voice drawled out above the fox, a pleasant, sibilant hiss flowing into the dragon's words as Rell felt himself being lowered. Rell's insides felt like they were about to_break,_ every inch of the dragon forcing his flesh to slowly stretch more and more as each, monstrous inch was force-fed into his hungry rear. And then Rell's voice rose in pitch, and shouts erupted from the fox as Maduin suddenly began to hammer him down the length of his cock. Those purple hands held Rell firmly, while the winged claws pumped the fox down upon the monstrous length.

Howls and outcries mixed with each downwards pull. Maduin's wings served as a second set of arms and held the fox tight. He couldn't move his arms, he couldn't move his legs, and was helplessly made to feel himself being speared downwards again and again. His insides felt like they were melting from the demonic touch, pushing the pain away and leaving only the mind-numbing pleasure, spiking each time the fat behemoth pressed against the fox's most sensitive spot.

He was being used. He was being used by the Demon Lord himself. He was being fucked and used like a condom for a dragon's amusement. And he loved it. Rell felt himself breaking. Each time those wings pulled him down he felt the pressure threaten to break his bones as his flesh stretched further and further.

The Demon Lord was inside him, slowly pouring slime into his backside, slowly filling him up more and more. He could feel Maduin so deep, reaching parts of him he had never felt before. When his eyes lowered, he could only muster a lazy, happy smile as each downward_pull made a distinct _bulge push out from within his stomach, while the fat length lubricated the fox's innards and slowly forced his muscles to relent little by little. Rell couldn't close his legs if he even wanted. Completely at the demon's mercy, to be used as his fucktoy. It was the most _heavenly_thing imaginable. To melt around the immense, fat shaft that buried deeper into his depths with each slow, heavy thrust. The air was thick with raw, pleasant musk. Draconic essence was layered on each breath that Rell took, helping soothe his overwhelmed nerves.

Slowly, Rell's attention was taken as a new, wet sensation pressed against his face. That draconic tongue rolled along his cheek and the fox felt the thick, wet muscle curl under his jaw, claiming it in a domineering hold - forcing Rell to peer back up at the dragon through half-lidded eyes, right back into the Demon Lord's own. "You smell so wonderfully like me... Can you feel it?" the dragon rumbled out. Rell felt one hand leave his wrists, yet the grip did not lighten in the slightest; one hand was enough to keep both of his arms trapped.

His face was cupped by the dragon's tongue, unable to see the venturing hand, but he soon felt it smooth down on his soft belly, trailing heat down his already warm fur until it reached his twitching cock. The clawed digit started to trail up his throbbing, needy length. A spurt of precum jettisoned from the red, vulpine length, oozing out over Rell's bulging stomach.

"So close... So close... Just a little more, just relax and spill your essence for me... Then you'll be all mine..." The dragon's whispers continued with a sinister, seductive trail that left a puff of pink-coloured mist on the fox's face.

"You shall be worn by the one you call a Demon. You shall holster my cock and keep it warm. Night after night, I will defile you and use you as one would use any property. You will be owned, and you will love to call me your owner... So let's break you in." The sibilant voice of the dragon Lord hissed down at Rell, and he cried out loudly.

No longer gentle or holding back, the Demon Lord slammed Rell's body down with a fervent pace. He found his arms released, and the giant, purple hands locked around his waist. His wings moved down lower, grasping Rell around the underside of his knees, forcing his legs up high and wide. With the new position, the dragon could put his entire strength into ramming the fox down onto his cock. Again and again, Maduin hammered Rell down with an increasing intensity, each downwards slam resulting in the fox yelling his lungs out. He was no longer able to form coherent words, only guttural, animalistic shouts of raw, desperate pleasure.

Over and over, the dragon drove the fox down, his own teeth gritting, one eye half-lidding; an expression of soft, earnest enjoyment grinning down at the fox as the soft, furred backside finally impacted the heated dragon Lord's hilt. He had finally managed to sink Rell balls-deep.

_ _

Rell cried out only a moment before the dragon Lord joined in with a passionate, lustful growl. It drowned out the fox's voice with a sound of raw, pure dominance as jet after jet pumped into the fox's guts, painting them white. Thick, gooey strands painted Rell's own belly fur as the fox was unable to hold his own orgasm back any longer. Together their voices joined and the last clear-headed thoughts vanished from Rell's mind, unable to feel anything but the raw, pulsing, heated pleasure that_radiated_ from his insides and stretched out to every toe, every finger, and even from his ears to his tail-tip. Pump, pump, pump-- the fox's belly distended, straining to take in all of the Demon Lord's load. His muscles clamped down as hard as they could, desperate to not spill a single drop.

"Good Scabbard... Good little Rell... You finally spilled your essence. Let me show you how to properly use it," the purple dragon rumbled, and Rell felt the grip around his waist relax. The words rang so clearly through the haze of pleasure, soothing his nerves, reassuring him that everything was fine. The fox's eyes were glazed over with the softest of glows, and the dark ichor was slowly starting to reach into the eye-whites of the broken knight.

Slowly, Rell felt a claw trail along his belly, scooping up the slick, heated fluids that he had spilled over himself. He felt a burn. An itch, a searing heat slowly spread along the surface of his bloated stomach, and his hazed eyes could see as Maduin slowly etched a bright, pink emblem against his skin.

Shimmering brightly, it could be seen even through his fur. It burned. It writhed. It was dark and heavenly.Wonderful. Pleasurable... His stomach was getting sensitive. No, his entire body felt so sensitive under the burning brand. The pain twisted with wonderful bliss and the fox felt as his own nethers twitched again, brought back to full hardness by the tingling pleasure of having his body further violated by the Demon Lord-- No. He was being improved. Perfected. Adjusted for his Lord's desire. He was the Demon Lord's Tool... And he was being made to better fit his new purpose.

_ _

Soon, the Sigil was done. A burning brand on his lower belly, taking the shape of an ivy heart, twisted with tribal lines and crossed paths. Fused into flesh by his essence and the Demon Lord's own. A dark brand and proof of ownership, Rell delighted as he felt it throb_with need... his dark Lord's need. He felt his Lord's will through the brand - and he could _tell his Lord was still close... and had several more loads left to drain.

His own nethers, already rock hard, grew almost painfully needy at the thought. He would serve his Lord as his faithful Scabbard, and he would help holster the Demon Lord's sword as many times as it took.

_ _

"There we go... All done. A gift for you, to help you nurture my demonic seed. To help you carry it and make it grow. With this, you belong to me... A nice, little brand of ownership. And how pretty it looks on you, don't you think?" The dragon rumbled back, claws slowly retracting from the freshly made Sigil. His sibilant tones were ringing all the clearer now. So sweet and soft. Tender and caring. So gentle and benevolent. How had he not seen this before? The sweetness that permeated his very breath, and that now lingered inside of him. Rell had never felt better. His nerves were aflame with delight, and the sweetness reminded him of his most favourite memories. Moaning out in delight with his lover. The big, purple arms carrying him to bed and rutting him like a bull in heat. Wishing the nights would never end.

Rell closed his eyes again as fresh strands of white lanced across the milky fur of his belly, staining the new brand, having finished merely at the thought. His tongue hung out, limply drooling into his own chest. The fox felt those arms hold him, so protective and warm, a true lover's embrace, and his heart thrummed for his new owner. He peered up at his Lord with a bright, happy smile curling along the corners of his muzzle. By now, the dark essence had etched its way into his sclera, painting them black all the way through, until the only things remaining of the once-hero's eyes were the forest-green irises, now glowing brightly against the black pits surrounding them.

Maduin could not help but admire those eyes, so earnest and warm, filled with desire. What a wonderful knight this fox would make. Maduin wondered if he even remembered his old life anymore, or if pleasure was the only thing he could think of.

"Yeeeeesssss..." came Rell's whisper, a slow, belated answer to his owner's question, drawn out over several syllables.

There was a clinking of something. Rell's eyes focused and he could see a shimmering, translucent set of chains, ghostly and ethereal. It hung from the dragon's hand, which had come up to dangle it in front of the fox's body. Rell's eyes slowly trailed from the crag-covered hand down the length of the chain until it ended in a runic, glowing collar. Was that... For him?

"Good toy... Now, I did say earlier that I would let all your companions out... But it would be far too sad to separate such good lovers now, wouldn't it?" the dragon _rumbled_down, a curious expression on his face. A final test, for his little fox.

Rell's face twisted into a warm, happy expression, slightly dazed as words sprinkled against his mind like drops of rain - only to scatter out into a warm, gooey pool of happy memories. Rell dimly recalled his lover. He was big... He was such a brute. So warm, heavy, hard, big... Purple scales came to his mind as his thoughts filled with images of his Lord, but a faint reminiscence trickled gently in to fill the gaps. He recalled the pleasant smell of musk and pine. He recalled... Coal. Oh, he had almost forgotten Coal.

The thoughts came swimming back like a lazy tide, slowly sifting through his mind. They were going to be let loose. That_was_ the right thing to do. That was the heroic thing to do. Rell had agreed to that. His expression twisted and, for a moment, there was a look of _embarrassment_on Rell's face as the rest of his memories slowly puzzled themselves back together like a fractured mirror. Humiliation, soft and gentle, mixed with nervousness and trepidation. A desire now filled the cracks.

A pleased look took hold of the Tyrant's expression. It seemed this knight had managed to dredge himself up from the mire of wanton lust. Not completely broken yet. Truly, he had gotten his hands on such wonderful material.

"You don't really want to say goodbye, do you? I can tell... You are such a loyal soul," the dragon whispered, as tenderly as a lover while he lifted the collar to the fox's neck. With a flick of one hand, the runic band opened and Rell felt it brush against the fur of his neck. And there it lingered, letting Rell digest those words. His chest felt hot, but his mind was slowly clearing. As if being extracted from the pink haze, his thoughts slowly started to piece themselves together... with his knotted length throbbing between his legs, needy for attention.

"You want Coal to stay here with you and keep you warm. To keep you in his arms and take care of your every need."

_ _

The collar lingered, hovering in place. Like a bear trap, ready to snap shut once the final declaration was made. It was an unspoken agreement, but Rell was completely aware what it meant. There was no coercion in the Demon Lord's voice, no words of command or forceful orders. It was a simple, terrifying question.

"...I... I do," Rell whispered - and in that moment, betrayed everything he had stood for, everything he had held dear.

"_You know that I would have to adjust him too. I would have to improve him, and make him fit to serve me, in my domain. You broke one of my sentinels, so he would see that it is replaced,"_came the words of the dragon, tantalizingly close. Rell had broken the first boundary already, and Maduin already knew what would come next.

"I do," Rell answered again, now more clearly and firmly.

"Then you will ask me nicely, properly." The Demon Lord's voice was firm. "The others will be let go, but him alone I will permit you to keep. You will accept this collar. It is a slave brand, and it will make your body mine," the dragon spoke, softly, quietly, yet with an iron conviction. Undeniable and undisputable. Rell felt his body slowly eased down as those wing claws let go of his legs, leaving him buried to the hilt balls-deep on his new Lord. The claws instead moved to softly stroke his engorged, branded belly. Measuring the dragon's own handiwork.

"As my brand rests upon your belly, I will own you and may influence you. But with this, I will control you. Your body will be mine to use as I see fit. Your arms will be my sword, and your body my vessel, and you shall never be able to disobey my word... This brand may not be forced, only given, and this shall be your last, true choice."

_ _

"...Please, my Lord. Maduin... Let me keep my Coal. I need him... I want him... Make him stay by my side, for always. Please change him so that he is suitable. Make him a part of your domain. Just make him feel as good as I do, that's all I ask," Rell pleaded. Earnestly, truthfully, delightfully. A dopey smile crossed the fox's face, his mind already made up. He wanted Coal. This life felt wonderful. He wanted Coal to experience it with him.

The others didn't matter. What were their names again? He couldn't remember. Only Coal mattered. Coal and his Lord. He didn't need anyone else. He didn't need anything else.

_ _

Click.

The purple band clapped shut around his neck and, for a moment, the fox could see the purple cord that led away from his neck - ethereal chains, guided up to his owner's hand. Slowly, the magic faded, and the chains vanished. Growing invisible, fading from view until only the pale, pink loop remained around the fox's throat. In turn, that too faded until only a purple ring of runes remained, etched into Rell's neck. Hidden by his fur, glowing faintly. Then at last, that final ring faded as well and left nothing behind. Unseen, but felt. A deal was struck. A pact agreed.

"Wonderful choice, boy... Now let's celebrate your new life, my dear Scabbard. We have much to do, but tonight, I shall be all yours, as you are mine. And I shall make sure you know your role well."

Once more Rell was lifted and the backflow of white gushed from his rear like rivers, staining those purple thighs. The fox felt the rush of warmth escape him, only to be hammered back down again as the Lord set back into a forceful rhythm that offered no rest. Hard and fast, the fox's voice sang through the air, forming a symphony of pleasure with his new Lord as his rear was used like a living fleshlight for the dragon's delight. Rell bounced on his Lord's balls and rested upon them like a divine set of pillows, his belly pumped full again and again.

Growling with pleasure, roaring with delight, the pretence of gentleness was dropped. The dragon had no more need for honeyed words, no more need for gentle gestures or soft affectations. The deal had been done, and it was now time to show Rell where he belonged. And a scabbard needed to be properly hollowed out before it could be of use.

The fox felt the tentacles return, wrapping him up in their slimy embrace as he found himself spread, upside down, legs held wide and arms once more bound behind his back. Dangled above the Demon Lord's cock, his jaws were stretched open as a guiding, purple arm grasped around his throat and threaded his mouth back down upon the thick length. Tentacles stretched him wide and pounded his insides relentlessly, until he finished over his Lord's pristine body, unable to hold back - until his rear was coated in the tentacles' slime and the Lord had pumped his throat full of another load of demon essence. He was taught to clean his Lord, and to make sure that every drop was lapped up, replaced by the fox's spit.

_ _

Rell was railed over the throne, balancing on his toes, clutching the armrests as his head was shoved into the pillow that had kept the Lord's rear warm, forcing him to take in his Lord's intoxicating scent. He was flipped over so that the fox was sitting on the throne itself, legs hiked up over the giant shoulders as he was pounded until his body felt like breaking once again from the full force of the dragon's thrusts - with his hefty balls smacking away at the tender, furred ass.

The fox found himself hefted against the nearest wall, his tail yanked up so that the dragon could slam_his hips home and grind Rell against the unyielding stone. He was draped across a table with knees at either side of his head, then pounded until his spunk stained his own face. He was forced to kneel with his face against the inside of the dragon's thighs, taking in the heavenly scent. _Etching it into his mind. He was driven onto his side and nailed with one leg hefted up high.

_ _

The night faded away as minutes turned to hours, and hours stretched on endlessly, with Rell knowing neither rest nor break until his body was complete. Moulded to perfection, to suit the dragon's needs.

_ _

_ _

_ _

Rell's muffled moans echoed throughout the small chamber. The fox clutched the bedding with his hands, and one knee helped keep his balance as he felt the warm, heavy, rhythmic thrusts of his lover pounding deep against his insides. Each hump drove the hefty, rock-hard length against Rell's innermost buttons, smashing his sensitive nerves with relentless force, making his voice resound across the room with raw and undiluted enjoyment. Low on the fox's belly his brand glowed a faint pink, ensuring that the former knight felt truly_divine_ under his lover.

Large, ashen-grey hands held around Rell's frame. One arm held around the fox's jaws, a thick and meaty finger digging into them and reducing any words to soft, stifled noises. A sign that Rell should be quiet, despite the difficulty of this task. The other held the fox's leg high, forcing Rell's body to twist against that burly body as it hammered forward. Draped over the small fox, each thrust railed Rell against the bed. Thin cracks could be seen along those chiselled muscles, and large, stony wings could be seen sprouting from the figure's back as it drove itself home into the smaller frame. Its thick tail swayed behind it, and a stony grin curled wide around the servant's face.

The gargoyle grinned, face obscured by protective metal with two bull-like horns jutting out through the helmet. The stony figure rumbled out a noise that contained no words - a content, gravely noise that sounded like boulders grinding together. A voice of enjoyment.

Rell had learned all of his lover's new tells. He had learned to recognize when the big oaf was enjoying himself. He had learned to tell when the big bull was in the mood, which was almost every day, every break he got from the patrols. He had stopped speaking entirely, but that had not turned out to be a problem at all, as Coal had learned to show his desires without needing words. It usually ended with Rell hilted on the new gargoyle's cock.

Rell loved this one more than any of the others. Coal knew just where to push and just where to press. Those hands were as firm as boulders, yet as gentle as silk, and had never once hurt the fox with his strength. Rell had to admit, he had started to find the other sentries more attractive as well lately and could now even tell them apart. It hadn't helped that he had ended up spitroasted between Coal and another sentry at Coal's wordless insistence, and both had ended up finishing inside him. Rell had named it Crag.

Crag was far broader than the rest and had a hulking upper body, resulting in a hunchbacked posture. Whatever force was animating the stone, it was enough to make their bodies act like living creatures. Rell suspected that they had all been flesh-and-blood creatures, once upon a time, before meeting with the Demon Lord. They appeared to be able to communicate with each other, even with the lack of any spoken words.

After Crag had finished, Coal had simply held Rell down and waited for the next sentry, whom Rell had named Wings due to the winged design on its helmet, to take Crag's place. With Coal prying the fox's mouth open, Wings had slotted inside and continued fucking his throat as if it were second nature. Coal liked sharing his lover with his fellow servants. Rell was too good, and Coal wanted everyone to know how much of a prize he had, and Rell was damned well going to show them. Rell loved every moment of it.

Rell often found the sentries around the castle. Some were patrolling, others were simply standing guard. It had taken a while for Rell to forgive the one that had hammered in Coal's skull all those weeks ago, but the fox had eventually come around. Spades, Rell had mentally named him, due to the spade shape at the end of its tail.

It had taken Rell running into Spades in the middle of the night while on patrol, where the gargoyle had broken its motionless pose to approach the fox. With a menacing swish of its spaded tail, the overbearing stone sentry had loomed over him and two stony hands had started groping Rell's ass, splayed it wide. Kneading and squeezing his plump cheeks, Spades had made sure that its intent was clear and that the fox's rear was properly prepped before it had promptly gestured at the nearest wall - where Spades delivered its apologies directly.

It had gone hard at first, but a few sharp noises from the fox made Spades slow down, as if to accommodate its partner's needs. It had taken a slower pace into the fox's depth after that until Rell had finished all over the wall and was leaking equally much from beneath his own tail. Rell suspected Spades wasn't really sorry. But Rell didn't mind. Spades had his own charm. He could forgive Spades for that.

But Coal was the best of them all. Coal was gentle, caring, strong. Still as pushy as a bull in a rut, and as gentle as a mossy hill. The finger in Rell's mouth was enough to remind him to stop talking so much, which was something Coal seemed to prefer after his change. Coal was still cocky and proud; he would always crawl on top of the fox and inspect under his tail every night, after the fox himself had been on duty. Stony fingers would push inside his abused ring, stretching it as wide as it could go, as if to tell who had handled Rell that night. And when Rell had taken a particularly large partner, Coal would rumble - a gravelly, pleased noise released from the depths of the gargoyle's throat, as if proud that Rell was getting along with the other sentries, and proud of how far Rell was coming along.

Rell still loved Coal, perhaps even more now. His chest burned fiercer, his head swam with happiness, and his dick stood at attention with merely the smallest of fantasies. He blamed the Demon Lord for that. His brand was ever a reminder of his corruption, and he could feel the giddy desires bloom every time it showed itself. It was a tainted love, perhaps, but whether it was the brand's fault or not, he didn't care anymore. Their love didn't need words. It didn't need unnecessary noises. It only needed each other's warmth, and their bodies locked together in heated passion, grinding away with stone against fur until they both unloaded. Rell's ropes would paint the bed, and Coal's thick, viscous load would drip from around his rocky length where it was wedged in the fox's broken hole. As big as Coal was, the dragon had been bigger still, and Rell still had not tightened up since that night.

Exhausted, spent, and completely without dignity, Rell collapsed into bed, while the gargoyle settled down on top. The weight threatened to squeeze the air out of the fox's lungs and crush his ribs, but the demonic essence had made Rell's body sturdier by far, so it instead only managed to press an exasperated groan from the fox. There was a nibble at the fox's neck as earthen, jagged teeth gently pinched into his flesh, and Rell let out a pleasant purr in return.

"Love you too, you big oaf."