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The Breaking of Braknur

For Damiekinz

By Draconicon

Braknur woke to an increasingly familiar pressure on his face, the warmth and firmness and general plushness beneath a layer of scales telling him that he'd been sat on. Again. He groaned under his breath, biting off the immediate snarl that wanted to rip free of his lips as he opened his eyes.

As usual, the light of the cavern was blocked out by the thick ass right over his face. His nose was rammed right under a familiar tail, and his lips were all but glued to the hole between the plump cheeks. He could smell the thick, sweaty musk right between them, and he was forced to taste it as the dragon that the ass was attached to pushed down that much harder.

"Wake up, wake up..."

"Mmmph..."

"Good. Now, kiss."

The orc was forced to push himself the rest of the way between the cheeks to get a good bit of pressure on the pucker over him, and he bit off the instant of disgust and humiliation for the act before the dragon could notice it. He growled in his chest, but didn't let the vibrations come up, nor the sound of his residual anger. Even now, he knew that it was too late for him to be angry; he had been shackled for too long.

His captor pushed down, spreading his cheeks further, forcing the orc's face right up against his hole. There was a sense of heat and too much warmth down there, the dragon's natural size keeping him from ever getting entirely sweat-free, but aside from the faint bitterness that was inherent to every living thing back there, there was no scent of filth or taste of it, either. It was as clean as it could be, minus sweat.

Of course, to any proud orc warrior, that was bad enough, and Braknur had every reason to be proud, as he reminded himself as he kept licking. Each swipe of his tongue and kiss along that fat pucker was a reminder of what he had once been, of how he didn't deserve this, of how he had to escape one day.

One day.

One day.

He kept telling himself one day, every time that he took a lick of that pucker, every time that he was forced to breathe in the thick musk that clung to that scaly rump. It ground against his face, pushing him down against the cave floor and reminding him where his master believed he belonged. Down. Down. Down. Under everything and everyone, nothing but a trophy for the great and powerful beast.

He grunted as he felt his tongue get trapped against that pucker, felt it part slightly to allow his tongue entrance. He tasted the heated warmth of the inner walls, so wrong, so very wrong. If this was to happen to him, it should have happened in reverse, with the orc getting his ass worshiped rather than giving it to someone else.

The dragon wiggled his hips back and forth, grinding those shimmering blue cheeks against his face one last time before standing up. Braknur gasped for breath as he was finally allowed some hint of clean air, and sat up with the master.

"There. Welcome to the day, slave."

"Hmmph."

"You think that you can call yourself anything else?"

"I am what I am."

"And what are you?"

"..."

"You are a toy, orc. Nothing more than that. A trophy of pleasure and power, a sign of my might over those that would defy me."

"I failed once."

"And you will never have another chance."

The orc growled under his breath, but he didn't say anything. Defiance cost too much; he had paid it in the currency of pride too many times to defy the dragon outright any further, not if he wanted to keep what he had left.

He looked down at himself. His muscular body had been marked time and again since he had been captured by Molokean; the dragon had taken great pleasure in putting his symbols and sigils across Braknur's body, ranging from the simple nose and nipple rings pierced through his flesh to the alteration of his ancient tattoos across his chest and back. He had been labeled with the dragon's name across each thick pec, and his ass cheeks had the name spread across him like some sort of tramp stamp on a public whore. His entire body screamed against it, his soul burned with humiliation for bearing the dragon's name like some publicly traded slave, but he had no way of fighting against it.

He looked down at his hands and feet, at the golden shackles that held them and marked them with his servitude. His wrists and ankles were bonded, bound with the golden bands, and he knew from experience that the dragon's magic could summon chains from them, chains that would hold him down and humiliate him, keep him from fleeing from any use that the dragon cared to put him to. There had been nights when he had been bound for the full eight hours of sleep, spread-eagle and displayed, and there had been nothing that he could do about it.

Worst of all was the golden collar and chain leash that hung from it. There were times when it was nothing but a decoration, but Molokean could use it to do so much more. There were times when the dragon seized his body and took his own sense of self away, making him nothing but a puppet on strings. He hated those times most of all, for those were the times when he was stripped of even the slightest dignity.

"Get up. We have visitors."

"...Visitors?" Braknur grunted.

"Yes, visitors from the villages that hired you."

"..."

"You will be on display, of course."

"...Of course."

"And they will see what it means to defy me."

"Yes...Master."

He grunted as he dragged himself to his feet, already knowing what this would mean. The dragon would have him recline at the base of the hoard while the treasure was brought in, more than likely with his legs spread to show how his ass had been battered by the dragon more than once already. The stretch didn't show more than a little, but he knew that would get worse as the years wore on and he took it harder and harder from the great beast. He shook his head as he imagined the things that the dragon would do to humiliate him and shuddered from head to toe.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he watched as his captor adjusted the room. The great treasure cavern that also served as the main bedroom of the cave was a mess. Over a dozen piles of gold dotted the room, ranging from one that was merely the width of a human lying on their back near the exit-entrance of the cavern to the massive one nearly sixty feet wide that served as Molokean's pride and joy. They were huge, and any one of them could have funded at least a portion of a city for a good chunk of the year. The biggest one could have bought a kingdom and kept it running tax-free for that entire year.

But that was not the point of the treasure chamber. It wasn't there for spending, but for wealth. The dragon loved to show off all that he had claimed over the years, and Braknur knew that he was nothing more than another treasure for the beast to show off.

No, that wasn't quite true. He was a treasure that could be shown off, and he was a little trinket that could be used.

"Here, lie here," Molokean said, pointing to a dip in the gold that faced the hole in the wall that the villagers would come through. "Lie here with your legs spread, but not too far. Cock over your thigh. Look like you love it. Because you do, don't you?"

"...."

"Don't you, my little toy?"

"...Yes, Master."

He laid in the gold, looking up at the blue dragon. Molokean, unlike many of his brethren, preferred a two-legged form and didn't seem to have any shame keeping to it, unlike most of the dragons that he had seen before. However, he still kept to the dragon tradition of not wearing any clothes, flagrantly showing off his body in a way that even the most feral of orcs would have considered immodest.

He was a tall dragon, perhaps seven and a half or eight feet tall, with a massive ten-inch cock hanging from his crotch. He showed no shame in swaying it for the viewing 'pleasure' of any and all, and he grinned every time that he caught someone looking at it or the equally-heavy sac that hung just below the shaft. He seemed to find it utterly satisfying to have someone staring at him and seemed to encourage it any chance that he got.

Braknur took no pleasure in looking at him, neither there nor at the plump rump on the other side. He had been under that time and again, now, and he shivered every time that he thought of being the dragon mage's seat again.

As he got comfortable among the gold coins, the blue dragon stood on his face. He grunted as he was pushed into the gold, further and further submerged by layers of it that ran across his calves or his stomach, but never enough to actually hide his cock or other, more intimate places.

"There. That's better."

"Mmmph...I...do not..."

"You deserve this, and more. My little plaything is mine to use as I see fit. Remember?"

"..."

"This is why you still live. I could kill you, but why, when I can use you to show just what would happen to anyone that defies me?"

"You could...make them fear you..."

"Oh, death. There are so many better ways to instill fear. And if they believe that this is what awaits them, the humiliation and breaking of their minds before their friends, then all the better. It means that they will hold fast to loyalty to me. Better than killing them and starting all over."

"..."

"But you...oh, you are so much better suited to being a toy than being a sacrificial example. Soon enough, you'll break. You'll learn. And then...mmm." Molokean chuckled. "Then we shall have some real fun."

The way that the dragon said it, Braknur knew that he had yet to plumb the depths of the dragon's depravity. There were many more things that were yet to be exposed, many more potential humiliations in his future. He shivered as he settled among the gold, and he waited, keeping his eyes straight ahead. His captor was setting something up further back, but for now, there was only silence and the occasional hum of debate.

The villagers, humans and weaker creatures for the most part, arrived two hours later. They carried with them gold and silver in wagons, with barrels of food and cured meats for the dragon in small wagons that were barely small enough to pass through the tunnels beneath the mountain. The dragon smiled over Braknur's half-buried body, nodding at them.

"You bring tribute."

"Our apologies, oh Great Molokean," one of the humans said. "We heard that you were attacked, and -"

"You heard?"

"We...we heard, yes."

"And you were not responsible, then?"

"We...how could we? There is none that can challenge you."

Cowards, Braknur thought but didn't say. They not only abandoned him, but they refused to stand firm in their own convictions. Some pride they had.

The dragon could have roasted them where they stood, but instead, the blue dragon pulled on the orc's leash. Braknur grunted as he was forced upright, dragged from a lazing recline to something a little more 'proper' positioned. His legs spread a little further, and his cock was forced up as he arched his back.

"This creature came to kill me," Molokean said. "Do you see him?"

"We...see him, great one."

"This is the penalty for failure."

"...We understand, great one."

"Good, good. Now...observe him..."

"Nnngh," Braknur grunted as he was pulled back further, the collar half-choking him as he sat up higher.

"Stand."

He did, slowly getting to his feet, feeling the eyes of the villagers that had paid him in meat, drink, and meager copper - where did they get the gold if copper was all that they could afford before - as they looked him up and down. They couldn't look away, and some of them even went so far as to sneer at him.

His face burned as he was posed, his body seized by the dragon's will and made to stand with one leg on some of the treasure, spreading his legs out so that his balls fell further, so his cock was more on display. The orc was made to turn to the side, showing off the tattoos on his chest and ass, made to display the marks of ownership that the blue dragon had left on him.

"This is mine, now," Molokean said. "He has no more independence. He is mine, body and soul."

Body, Braknur thought. We'll see about soul.

"And that is the price of defiance. Show me that you will fight, and I'll show you that you have no chance."

"We understand, great one."

"Put the treasure where it belongs."

"Yes, great one."

The villagers began unloading the wagons and carts, putting the treasure in various parts of the room and the food at the base of the treasure piles where the dragon could get at them. Through it all, Braknur hissed and grunted, made to pose again, and again, and again.

At one point, the dragon made him pose with his ass facing back towards the villagers, cheeks spread and his head and chest bent forward. He was half-bent over, showing off his pucker to the very people that had offered him money to save them, as if the dragon was offering him to them. His cheeks burned hotter than ever; he was more than a prostitute, but here he was, being put on display as if he was nothing more than an owned whore. Braknur wanted to rip the dragon's head off, but even the hot-blooded orc knew that wasn't going to happen. Not now, not when he had been beaten down that hard.

So, he did his best to hold his temper, to keep his head on straight, to not let his pride get in the way...but oh, it was hard. To feel so many eyes on his half-stretched hole, to know that they were looking at his cock as it dangled down, feeling the eyes of everyone running up and down his shackled, tattooed, marked body -

"It is a beautiful trophy, this orc," Molokean said, chuckling. "He is worthy of display, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, great one," the villagers said.

"Perhaps, during the summer months, I should mount him on a plinth outside the cave."

"That would be beautiful, great one," the villagers said in shameless flattery.

"Chained so he can't get away, impaled on an iron rod to show what he likes."

He hated the dragon, then. He had already hated the beast, but there was something about being talked about when he was right there, talked about as if he wasn't present, that really left him fuming. He tried to stand up, but the leash and collar kept him in that pose, showing off his ass, showing off the tattoos on his ass.

He gritted his teeth as he felt the villagers staring at his hole, and he knew that at least one of them had to be thinking about fucking him themselves. They were only mortals, and he had a nice ass, and he knew it. Better cock, he always thought, but -

No, don't think of that. It's a trap.

He shook his head, huffing and growling in as quiet a fashion as he could, knowing that any outright defiance would be met with far worse punishment.

The dragon posed him again, this time putting him down on his knees, as if he were bowing before some greater lord. He felt his arms fall in front of him, and he fell to all fours. The collar made him lift his leg slightly, as if he were some dumb dog, showing off his cock.

"There are endless ways to punish those that defy me," Molokean said. "But this is one of my favorites."

"To show them off, great one?"

"To show them as little more than sexual toys."

"Yes, he is...very sexual, great one."

"And well-endowed."

The dragon chuckled, and Braknur fumed as his cock was made to show off, feeling so many eyes on it and -

And it started to rise. He shivered as he felt it getting harder and harder the more that the villagers stared at it. It didn't take long for the emerald shaft to rise up and tap his stomach, and he looked away, more humiliated than ever.

"Yes. Quite endowed, which means it's all the easier to see that he enjoys his captivity."

Lies, the orc thought. Lies.

It was the only way that he could keep resisting, these days. There was nothing left for open defiance; all he could do was hold out in his own head, but it was getting more and more difficult with all the new ways that the dragon thought of to humiliate him. He was forced to remain there, on all fours, legs hiked, his throbbing, traitorous cock made to bounce in view of all those gathered. They were believing it; he could see it in their eyes. They thought that he was broken, that he enjoyed being under the dragon, and that was all that mattered.

He hated it.

But his cock loved it.

When the villagers were gone, Braknur was allowed to lower his leg, but he wasn't allowed to get back to his feet. Molokean stood up and walked around him, one scaly hand rubbing down his back all the while. He was not yet a dog beneath the dragon, but he shivered despite that.

"You did well, my little toy," the dragon said. "Are you finally understanding your place?"

"I'm not...your toy."

"That sounds like defiance."

"I'm not...your toy. I am not a plaything. I am a trophy."

"That's better."

It was the only thing that he could do to hold onto his pride. If he could at least see himself as something that wasn't just a fuck-toy, if he could see himself as something of value, then he could survive this. Braknur was a warrior, knew that he had skills, knew that he had something that would come out of this in a good way, but -

But there was something that was too humiliating if he thought of himself as nothing but a toy. Fuck-pets and such were things that no orc could become without losing something of their core essence. The idea of losing that much of himself, of becoming nothing but a cock-taker, was too much for him to imagine.

The dragon circled him time and again, walking one lap after another around him. The golden coins at his feet shifted and clinked together, so hard and yet so fluid at the same time. The silence was unnerving; it always meant that something big was coming, and he was never ready for it. No matter how many times that he had been sat on, no matter how many times the dragon had forced him to cum to being nothing more than a seat, no matter the times that he had taken that fat cock up his ass and come through it with nothing but a puddle beneath him for his trouble, he was never ready for what Molokean had in mind for him.

He waited, hoping against hope that it was just another mind game. Those happened often enough, after all. Just a tease, a taunt, some hint that he might be used to get him to freak out and do something stupid to earn a punishment. Braknur had gotten better at enduring those, but it was still impossible to tell whether it was something like that or a genuine moment of being taught a lesson.

Suddenly, the dragon grabbed him by the collar, shoving his head down in the gold. It wasn't a mind game.

"You keep thinking that you can survive this, don't you?" the dragon whispered. "That you can come out the other side no different than you were when I caught you."

"..."

"This strong, silent act...heh. You and I both know that it's nothing but a game now."

"I...am not...a toy."

"You will be."

The blue dragon's cock flopped against his ass cheeks, and he hated the way that his body responded. It had learned, learned all too well, that there was pleasure to be had from that cock. He shivered to himself, already hiking his hips up, putting himself on offer.

"Your body knows what it is."

"Nnngh..."

"Your mind will learn, eventually. You orcs are too dumb to hold out for too long."

"Not...a...toy."

"No?"

The dragon's cock tip pressed to his hole, and he shivered, his own cock rising despite his every wish otherwise. That warmth, that stiffness rubbed against his pucker, and then -

"AH!"

He gasped as it went in, pushing past his rim and forcing him open. The sheer size of it was still unimaginable, something that he would have scarcely believed before his captivity. It burned as it went deeper, but somehow, even that was pleasurable.

"That's it...learn it...remember it..."

"Nnngh."

"Your body...it knows what it wants."

"It...it..."

"You know what you want...what you are. Deep down, beneath all that anger, beneath all those stupid little thoughts of freedom...you know it."

He gasped for breath as that fat shaft rubbed over his pleasure button deep inside, grinding against it as it went deeper, deeper, and deeper still. He had never taken something bigger than that inside him. Before being caught, he'd never taken anything inside of him, but that thing -

"Ah!"

Braknur arched his back as it finally hilted in him. He could feel those heavy balls right against his own pair, and he lowered his head to the ground, even as he was already pinned to it. Panting for breath, he curled his toes and groaned as the dragon started rutting him, fucking him into the gold.

Not...not a toy...not a toy...

He tried to keep telling himself that, but his body was responding before he could brace. He could feel his cock throbbing harder than ever, his needs rising, his hole clenching down against his will to pleasure that cock all the more.

Not a toy, not a toy.

But he wanted that cock.

He needed that cock.

It was more than his body wanting it, much as he wished otherwise. There was a part of him that felt good with that cock in him, some part of him that enjoyed the feeling of it rubbing over his prostate, hitting that pleasure button with every thrust. The glowing heat of the tattooed name on his ass and chest felt good when that cock was inside him, and he hated it as much as he moaned from it.

The humiliation, the utter wrongness of being an owned, conquered orc warrior overwhelmed him, and he shivered as his cock slapped against his belly with every thrust, dribbling pre-cum to the coins below. He closed his eyes tightly, but that only made the dragon's voice that much harder to ignore.

"You belong to me."

"Nngh."

"Your ass."

"Mmmph."

"Your body."

"Ah."

"Everything!"

Molokean sped up, his thrusts hammering home over and over again, each time picking up speed until he felt like nothing more than a scaly blur behind the orc's bent-over body. Every thrust was a hammer-blow to his pride, and he could feel it shattering as the pleasure kept on rising.

Please...not this...not this...

And yet, he could feel his body pushing back, begging for more, and his mind was barely holding out. His pride, that bedrock of everything that had allowed him to take this much, was slowly breaking down. He arched his back as he felt his balls drawing up, his need growing stronger, that constant pleasure taking its toll. His ass burned with the friction of taking something that big over and over and over again, and his mouth hung open, his tusks dragging against the coins as he struggled to keep breathing.

"That's it...give in..."

"Nnngh..."

"Your ass...knows who owns it. Your cock...knows who owns it. Little dumb orc...submit...submit yourself to me."

He was on the cusp, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as his balls were pulling up, throbbing and making him drip more and more all over the coins beneath him. He was enjoying this too much, just as he had enjoyed being on display to the villagers too much. The idea of all of them seeing him as nothing but an erotic trophy had been demeaning, but through it, there had been pleasure.

Trophy.

Pet.

Slut.

Toy.

The things that the dragon called him should have killed his erection, but his pride was being twisted with every thrust, taken somewhere else, making him into someone that Braknur the warrior could never be. Even as he thrust his ass back, breaking his hole open even further on that great blue cock, he could feel his needs shifting, his sweaty body growing to love what he was being made to do. He couldn't stop it, and some part of him almost didn't want to stop it. It wanted to go further. It wanted this to get worse.

He moaned out loud, his cock throbbing, slapping against his abs as he felt his orgasm right on the cusp. The dragon leaned over him, growling in his ear, and the sound made his cock feel like it was going to blow right then and there. Scaly fingers wrapped around his shaft, milking it, squeezing it from tip to base and back again, stroking him off and getting him closer and closer to an orgasm.

"Submit."

"Nnngh..."

"Be...my...toy."

There was nothing that Braknur could do. One more thrust, and he went over the edge, and as he did, moaning out loud, he felt the dragon's cock explode inside him, bursting with seed and splashing his insides with the claiming, musky juices. Something in his mind, something that might have been important, felt like it slipped, and the thrusting went on.

He was a musky, sweaty mess when the dragon pulled out. The creampie of his load oozed down his hole, running into the coins below. He panted for breath as he stared up at the ceiling of the cave, his body too weak and limp to move. His hole felt like it was gaped open, and he barely cared.

Molokean stood over him. The blue dragon chuckled, slowly lifting his foot over the orc's face.

"Progress. You're not there yet...but you're close."

"Mmmph..."

"Now, let's push that further." The dragon brought his foot down, the scales surprisingly smooth and just a trifle softer than some of the other places that he had been, though not as 'plush' as the dragon's ass. "Lick."

It was an order to demean himself further. He knew that, his captor knew that, and there was no way that it could be mistaken as anything but a test to see how much further he'd go after getting broken-in again.

And yet, Braknur knew that he didn't want to fight. He was tired, he was spent, and yet, at the same time, there was a part of him that wanted to prove that he was valuable. That there was a 'trophy' to him as much as there was anything else. He allowed his lips to part, taking in the dragon's big toe, and he started sucking gently.

"Heh...a good start..."

Molokean's words still stung, but it was better than nothing, and at least he could keep from getting fucked and shown off like this for a little bit longer. The more that he served privately, the less that the dragon would show him off. He hoped.

As that toe pushed in and out of his mouth, forced past his lips and over his tongue, he kept tasting the sweat that the dragon had built up. It was worst between the toes, which he kept getting flashes of flavor from, but it wasn't that bad. If he had to pick, he'd choose being underfoot rather than under-ass, though he rather doubted that he'd get the choice very often.

As he sucked and licked, Molokean slowly pulled his foot back, twisting it so that it was flat over the orc's face. Braknur stuck out his tongue and started licking the underside clean, leaving it shining with sweat rather than the other stuff.

"Heh, that's right. A good orc toy."

Not a toy...am I?

"A good little foot-licking toy."

"Mmmph..."

"Keep going. Don't stop until I tell you."

Made to alternate between licking the underside of the dragon's foot and sucking on his toes one by one, Braknur let himself sink into the routine. There was something almost comforting about just going along with it, even if it was so against everything that he had ever done in his life before this. His pride was twisted, battered, bruised, but he told himself that it was still there, that he wasn't broken.

For now, he still believed that, but as the dragon kept pushing him down, as that foot in his face felt better and better and as his ass felt emptier and emptier as all the cum from their previous rut oozed out, he started to wonder how true it was. He was a captive, after all. How long did it take before people in his position started lying to themselves?

The End

Summary: An orc captive of a dragon ends up being pushed to his limits, and considering that he's already partially broken, it might not take long before he's completely shattered.

Tags: M/M, M/Solo, Body Control, Posing, Gaping, Anal, Rimming, Face-Sitting, Facesitting, Musk, Face Sitting, Dragon, Orc, Fantasy, Slavery, Foot Fetish, Collar, Bondage, Humiliation, Cum, Orgasm, Exhibitionism, Forced Exhibitionism,