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"May the breeze bless you, Sir!"

It was the third day of the Harvest Moon that Nordis decided to leave Skäll. The King Conqueror stood on the dais, overlooking the whole city. His servants, the most esteemed one, had been crowding him with requests, praises, and words of affection as they brushed his cream mane, polished his purple-blue scales, or even trimmed his nails.

Nevertheless, the reason for his dire departure was that the King of Ortivandis had to be prepared to honor the people's whims and the need for awe. Even in wartime, a King had to possess the glory and the image fit for someone holding the most fertile lands on that side of the continent and had been protecting them for a millennia.

His kin, his fellow servants, had to remember the presence of their Liege as the Hippogryphs' encroachment threatened the Kingdom's peace.

"Thank you for protecting us, Sir!"

"Please! Protect our families!"

"This is a shame they attacked us before you finished your composition!"

"Send back those terrible beasts to their lairs!"

The praises continued, and so did the brushes and the polish until no part of the massive four-legged dragon had been untouched. Whenever he lay his blue and black gaze, it was to see the masterwork of the serviles.

"Fret not, my people. Your King may go, but he will return gloriously!" boasted Nordis, his voice booming and echoing within the castle in the like of a Dragon's maw. His powerful legs moved, shifted, and lifted his forms as his wings unfurled.

Around, the bipedal servants ran in dull screams, pushing back to give the liege the space he needed to take off.

Fly activated.

A second, they all stayed in awe. The second after, they were all pushed back and stumbling as the King soared through the sky above the bustling city. Below, people screamed and pointed at him while he drifted on the air currents towards the east, towards the border with the Hippogryphs' lands and where he had sent his knights.

Weeks ago, he had heard about an incursion from those beasts and sent a few of his men. Then a few more, then a cohort... Until one finally returned, talking about the incursion having turned a city into a bridgehead.

Nordis' eyes squinted as his flight pushed him above the jagged peak, dales peppering the land. In hours, he had crossed what would take an army weeks. And now, he saw the prized capture from his kin. A rustic city built alongside cliffs, much like Skälle, with a Nordic architecture. However, even from the distance, he saw the burnt roofs and houses.

You are entering a restricted zone! Fly will be deactivated.

Nordis blinked at the window before his eyes. Never before had he heard of such a restriction that could even deactivate his flight. What magic was at play? The Arch-Dragon had to investigate if it even affected him.

Landing and touching down, Nordis felt the strain on his legs as his wings folded. And another window appeared before his eyes.

You are in a restricted zone: you cannot use your "Fly" ability.

At this, the Dragon scowled and shook his head, chasing away the notification while he shifted his shape. Bones cracked, scales snapped, and muscles shifted. And from a massive four-legged Dragon remained a Dragomorph clad in a regal costume with a blue Brocard and cream chausses. His mane and horns remained the same but downsized, while his wings folded and wrapped around his shoulders like a partial cape.

"What have they done?" thought the King out loud as he trudged onwards, his legs guiding him along the Royal Road, walking on the dirty stones while watching the discarded clothes and trinkets alongside. Refugees had fled the city... And now, he was alone in walking the path towards it.

For a moment, the Dragon wished he had taken an attire fit for a miscreant. He would be recognized right away if he used a disguise skill... But he could us-THUNK!

You are hit by Soldier Barne, losing 3HP. You have received the ailment "Stunned".

Nordis watched it, saw it, noticed it... before his fluttering eyes gave out.

You have recovered from the ailment "Stunned".

When the Arch-Dragon reopened his eyes, he met with the same notification windows. Even though he was said to have recovered, his head throbbed. More so when he tried to lift his head and glance where he was. The nape ached as if a brick had hit him, and by checking on it, he found a small tumescence. Someone had managed to jump on him from behind without any of his detection abilities turning up against the threat. His eyes closed, his tail swayed, and another window popped with a tiny ting!

You are in a restricted zone: your draconic abilities have been limited.

An inhibitive collar binds you: you cannot use abilities unless a Hippogryph allows it.

"What is?" mumbled Nordis, reaching for his neck to find an iron collar against it. A crude craft brimming with a foreign and disruptive magic. Something he never hoped to see exists in this world. And yet.

"A gift from our kind to yours. What do you think of it, Your Majesty?" prompted another voice in the room.

Right away, the Dragon turned his irises at the source of it, at that... Hippogryph in a steel armor, his visor in hand. He, a male, possessed black feathers over his face and upper body, while his hind legs had a gray mane. Those hazel eyes were fixated on Nordis, gauging him as the Dragon saw a notification appear.

You are in the presence of the General Priot, the Dragon Tamer. Reputation: Hated.

"We have not found a way to deactivate the notifications from your kind, but it is no matter. How does a Dragon feel without his powers? How does it feel to walk on the earth? Aren't you too insulted?"

Nordis scowled at the window, pushing the notification aside as he looked up and gauged the individual.

"Please, I know your intent, and you're trying to investigate me. You can't fight or do anything as long as this collar is around your neck," off-handed the Hippogryph, extending his hands forward and... yanking the void.

A chain appeared, joining the hands and Nordis collar. The yank pushed the Dragon forward, forcing him to stand up, stumble, and fall on his knees while gasping for air.

"Good, this is where your kind belongs. Tell me, Majesty, did you come all the way here to punish us for invading your city?"

Inhibitive collar activated by General Priot: You cannot control your body or lie.

Nordis gurgled, trying to force a hand to his neck. But he couldn't.

"Yes," he answered with a whimper, his body weak.

"Did you come here alone?"

"Yes."

"Where is your army?" asked Priot, holding onto the chain with an arrogant attitude, even a smirk from that yellowy beak. This was... A torture. A display of power.

"At the capital."

"Good."

Reputation with General Priot increased: Scornful.

Reputation with the Kingdom of Ortivandis decreased: Revered.

The chain linked the collar to the Hippogryph disappeared, allowing the Dragon to reach for his neck and feel the cold metal restricting his power. And its hunger.

"Good. Tomorrow, you will learn what it is to serve, your Majesty; enjoy your reprieve," spat the Hippogryph, his saliva hitting the gasping Dragon right across the muzzle before he turned and left.

Abandoning Nordis to his cell. Or room.

This was no real prison cell, nor anything regular. As the Arch-Dragon recovered and slowly allowed the reality to sink in, he glanced at what surrounded him: the wooden walls, the rich furniture, the warm atmosphere, the sounds and cries from below. The sounds of people jostling around, the laughs, the gurgles.

He was in an Inn room, not a proper prison.

A fact that was confirmed when the door flung open after what felt like days of solitude for the old Dragon. He wasn't so much concerned by the confinement as he could spend months like this... But it rattled Nordis as his "privacy" was suddenly taken away, and so was his freedom when the chain appeared, and so did the notification.

Inhibitive collar activated by Soldier Elhor: You cannot control your body or your inhibitions.

"Elhor... Uh?" asked the Arch-Dragon, trying to read the brown-feathered Hippogryph, who didn't answer and turned, tugging on the chain. Like a puppet, Nordis' body followed, and his feet stomped on the wood.

They quickly descended the stairs to enter what looked like a mix of an inn, barracks, and a brothel. The room was indeed of an inn, as indicated by the view of the barrels and tables. But in between were beds... And on them were... Dragons.

Soldier Venarl breeds Livian. Soldier Venarl breeds Livian. Soldi-

Shaking his head, Nordis tried to chase away those notifications that kept popping whenever he looked at one of the couples formed by a Dragon or one of those invading soldiers. But whenever one of those men plunged inside a draconic's plump vulva or ass, a flurry of texts threatened to overtake the Arch-Dragon.

"You'll end up like them, slut."

That soldier, Elhor, finally spoke as the two walked past a Dragon being spit-roasted by two Hippogryphs, its gargling noise revealing he was choking. Nordis didn't have to read the notification to know that.

"This is an affront to the rules of war," grumbled Nordis, pulled through the Inn threshold and exposed to the broad daylight. In the middle of the village's plaza were aligned rows of stocks. Most held dragons whose rumps were exposed, tails lifted, and mouths kept open by the metal gags. Their supplicative gazes were onto the liege they had seen in the monuments and now saw in the flesh. Naked, exposed, revealed.

He was like them in this form, a Dragon whose wings were folded and whose body was refined. His cream mane wasn't brushed and had some specks of dirt on it. His scales had lost their clean reflection... He saw them.

Reputation with the Kingdom of Ortivandis decreased: Liked.

Nordis gritted his teeth as he stomped on the humid dirt and was led to a stock. The sounds of the locks echoed in his mind and those of the dragons surrounding him, growling and grunting. A mass, a mess, a chaos of individuals whose names kept appearing before the King even when he tried to push back the notifications.

The sounds of those windows kept nagging him in the back of his mind, hammering it with the sheer magnitude of this conquest. And more.

Inhibitive collar deactivated.

This notification was lost in the sea of anonymous names, nearly lost. But he saw it and grumbled. This was nothing but a cold comfort. Just as cold as the breeze on his buttcheeks when the Hippogryph gripped his tail from behind and lifted it while cinching a chain around it to keep the appendage away. Thus, to have access to the Dragon's tight pucker: a tiny orifice whose rim was clenched and devoid of any traces of abuse. Where the scales retracted, the skin wrinkled and tense to keep from any invasion.

Next came the hand, grabbing his muzzle and pushing against the jaw. Right against the muscles until the Dragon had to give out from the pressure. He unclenched, ungritted his teeth, and exposed his large mouth and jagged dentition only to have a gloved hand grab his lips.

Nordis gurgled and tried to shake off that presence but found no result. The metal ring was still fitted in his mouth, giving off its rich and iron taste to the tongue beneath.

"You're ready, Sir. I'll take you back tonight," curtly commented the young soldier before taking off.

At first, Nordis thought he would be left alone. Even the poor broken sods on his right and left had no one to care for their needs despite their desperate cries and pathetic sobs.

At first... But he quickly understood it wouldn't be the case.

"Hey, I heard they caught a new slut outside? She wanted to have a taste?"

"No, no. It's a royal. Maudo told me!"

"A royal? Like one of those knights? Damn, their dragon pussies were tight!"

"A king! That's what I heard! Priot was laughing his ass off last night."

"A king? Those bitches have a King? I thought it was a queen! With long hair!"

"Stupid! It's a king! Here, here he is!"

Nordis' ears burned from the shame as he felt the presence of those fingers pointed at him.

Reputation with the Hippogryph's republic increased: Slut.

The Arch-dragon eyes watched the notification, his pupils narrowing on those words as the Hippogryphs kept pointing at him. He-... he was considered a slut.

The second that realization came, he heard their footsteps narrowing, the sounds of belts undoing, and finally... A Hippogryph appeared before him, patting Nordis' head.

"Here! I told you! A royal! Prime cunt! Untouched!"

"Fuck! I always wanted to try out a virgin!" chuckled one of the two behind, followed by his furry fingers stroking Nordis' pucker.

"HGNNHHH!" blurted Nordis, glancing at the armored soldier before him. Who chortled... And slapped the Dragon across the face.

"Aren't you lovely? A dragon slut trying to speak. Nah, slut, learn from those," the Soldier pointed, mentioning the two pleading sluts abreast of the Dragon.

"MRPHH!"

You are losing 1 Sanity point from Musk Damage.

Nordis observed the notification appearing before his eyes. He watched it, and through it, he saw the Soldier's pulled loincloth and what was beneath: a strong flared and flat shaft. A dick whose length was almost as big as the man's forearm with a width that could contend. A shaft he presented to the Dragon's wide-open maw before pressing its tip to the tongue.

"Here, have a treat! I know you like it," chuckled the Hippogryph, gripping the Dragon's mouth.

You are losing 1 Sanity point from Musk Damage. You are losing 1 Sanity point-

Nordis gurgled, unable to swallow the saliva that backed up in his mouth. Against his tongue was the rancid taste of that soldier's cock, the taste of raw piss followed by the sweat and precum. He couldn't care about the notification; he wanted that horrid thing out of his sight, mouth, and life.

He gurgled some more. He felt the clawed fingers explore his pucker, tease the timid rim, and slather it with a greasy liquid. It was cold.

You are losing 1 Sanity point from Musk Damage. You gained the status "Lubricated".

The Arch-dragon forced on the stock, tried to close his fists and pull them out. But the wood used for them was too sturdy. He couldn't get out, not even pull his horns out of that disgusting soldier's hands.

"Hah! She's feisty! They always get the best cunts. You'll see, greenhorn!"

He didn't have a pussy! He didn't have a cunt! He was a male! A lord! A King! Not a mere slut!

But those titles were wasted as the Hippogryphs forced their junks against the tight pucker... And pushed. On the front and behind, both forced while the poor Arch-Dragon felt his throat close in tandem with his pucker from the invasion.

Saliva filled Nordis' throat, the grease filled his ass. But it didn't make the penetrations more pleasing. Far from that.

You are losing 1 Sanity point from Musk Damage. Your asshole lost the status "Virgin".

You are losing 1 Sanity point from Prostate Damage. You ar-

Those men were brutes, monsters, beasts. And the powerless King had to watch to know how his body endured their assault.

They rammed inside his throat, forcing it to bulge while his airways were almost closed. They plunged with such strength that his vocal cords burned from the pain. They inserted themselves with such a vigor, that he felt his breath be reduced to a trickle.

You are losing 1 Health point from Choking Damage. You are losing 1 Sanity point from-

Reputation with the Hippogryphs' republic increased: Prime Hole.

His eyes drifted on the vision, unable to focus on the sight displayed before him. Even if he could see, his sight was blurry from the tears trickling over his cheeks.

They were beasts, they were monsters, they were breaking him. His ass wasn't made to be taken like this. He had never been taken like this. He was a proud King, a lord, a hero to his kin. They sought him; they liked him. They-

Reputation with Ortivandis decreased: Neutral.

The word Ortivandis, he recognized it amidst his tears and blurry sight. What did it mean? What was happening? Nordis couldn't tell... He was choking, gurgling, clenching, bending, bursting... His body was about to give out; that's what he thought.

But it didn't.

The trickle of air slowly reduced from a trickle to a few gasps, a few and far between gurgles.

Nordis' consciousness drifted apart, swallowed by the pain and lack of air.

You are "Suffocating": find an air pocket, or you will lose consciousness in 2 minutes.

The notification appeared before the King's eyes, nagging and mocking him. A number he managed to see. 2 minutes? 2 minutes of air? His lungs burned, his ass burned, his whole body was a theater of pain.

And it wouldn't break.

You are "Suffocating": find an air pocket, or you will lose consciousness in 1 minute.

It wouldn't break even as those soldiers ejaculated in his mouth, filling the back of his throat with that distasteful semen when it wasn't his ass. His sphincters had given up, he couldn't resist them.

... 30 seconds.

They kept going, ramming and laughing. They were beasts, monsters on hooves; they had no shame, and they relished in a King's torment. They feasted on the Dragon's torment.

... 10 seconds.

Nordis' eyes fluttered. The numbers kept descending, but only the pain remained. He was a toy, their toy, their pet, their whore.

... 3 seconds.

His eyes became watery, his limbs so weak and heavy. Keeping his eyelids open was impossible.

Regaining consciousness. You lost 10 Health points. You gained the status "Cumflated".

Nordis's body felt so limp and weak as his eyes fluttered back to life. The taste of disgraceful Hippogryph's semen was in his mouth, threatening him with nausea. His guts were heavy, his ass ruined.

He didn't break.

He wouldn't break as he was forced to serve as a waitress in the inn.

Reputation with the Hippogryphs' republic increased: Pet Mascot.

He wouldn't break when the men fucked his throat until his body dropped limp, and they had to use another whore.

Regaining consciousness. You lost 10 Health points.

He wouldn't break in the isolation; his body wracked in pain as he slept in his room.

Reputation with Ortivandis decreased: Shameful.

He wouldn't-

"Where are we going?" he asked, his voice coarse from the abuse in the last days. Was it days? Or weeks? The Arch-Dragon felt himself slipping the further he was exposed to those Hippogryphs. He was losing pieces, moments, and memories. Was it worth it to fight? They were less brutal when he submitted, and they have been kinder to him in the inn.

Nonetheless, he felt the yank from the soldier holding the chain. They were not going to the stocks like usual, but somewhere further in the village.

Already, he heard the screeches of the creatures further there. But others growl, deeper. Dragons? Had they managed to capture Royal Dragons? Really?

Nordis blinked, his belly weighing on him as he took another step towards the large field that could have been used for cultivating crops. Instead, there were feral Hippogryphs, many of those massive mounted beasts. And Dragons in their Regal Form.

Massive, powerful, their limbs made for combats... Yet, those powerful dragons were nothing but bound breeding pets.

Before Nordis' eyes, he saw the poor souls squirm and cry out loud when those feral creatures plunged their flared dicks within the Dragon's tight pucker. He saw those who gritted their teeth and flailed their tail tip, those who eagerly growled in delight, those who looked despondent.

Feral Hippogryph is breeding Breeding-Post Nahler.

That name... Nahler. Nordis knew him; he knew the Knight that man had been. Yet, only remained of the proud golden-scaled veteran, a growling whore wiggling his ass to tease a beast while cum poured out of that ruined asshole.

"You'll be like them. We need more beasts for our army," curtly commented the soldier as they continued through the field.

A little further from the oversized bondage for the knights was a wood pole with chains affixed to it. Like a puppet, the Arch-Dragon's body put on the manacles. He leaned, bound by the collar around his neck.

His actions weren't his own as he was forced to raise his tail and attach it himself with more cuffs. Same for his feet and the spreader bar. This was... Absurd. But here he was, tied by his own hands while the sufficient soldier eagerly massaged his groin.

"Don't worry, Majesty. We got you a youngling for you. You're not a size queen yet," chuckled the lecherous male, enjoying the display.

Finally, once the binds were done and Nordis had no other choice but to lean on the pole to not fall while his legs and tail were spread to expose his swollen pucker, the soldier whistled. Followed the sounds of stomping hooves and feet, of the earth shaking behind Nordis... And finally, the large creature's warm coat pressed against his tail. It towered above him, almost hid it. It was a young golden Hippogryph, but its eyes betrayed its desire. As well as the slimy presence rubbing against his back.

You are losing 1 Sanity Point from Musk Damage. Your Sanity level is extremely low.

Nordis shuddered, feeling the strain the creature's scent put on his thoughts. Already was he feeling his dripping shaft extend and point down. Was he feeling excited at the thought of being taken by a beast? That was absurd! And yet, the King couldn't deny his body's reaction... Ashaming it may-

"Ah, already excited? Don't worry. He's a gentle lad. He'll break in nice and cozy," chuckled the soldier.

The man was out of Nordis' vision but seemingly close. Too close for his comfort.

Inhibitive collar activated by soldier Bracken. You cannot clench your sphincters, slut.

Nordis watched the notification... And whimpered internally as he felt his muscles relax and the cum from his morning fuck in the inn drip out. It dripped and dripped over his cheeks and testicles, then on the ground.

It dripped as no muscles tried to resist.

None... Could resist.

Not even as the Arch-Dragon felt the flared tip pointed against his asshole. Its size, its warmth, its girth... It squeezed between his cheeks, forced them apart, and pressed on his hole.

"IT- THIS IS TOO B-"

Inhibitive collar activated by Soldier Bracken. You can only praise your true masters.

You are losing 1 Sanity Point from Musk Damage. Take a breath.

Nordis' mouth went silent as he watched the ominous notifications.

It went silent, but not the Arch-Dragon's expression. His eyes opened wide and almost bulged; his breath quickened, his body trembled, and his jaw clenched.

That creature was pushing against his hole, hammering it.

You are losing 10 Health points from Feral breeding. You deserve it.

You are losing 10 Sanity points from Feral breeding. You will break.

His eyes drifted to close the notification despite the massive pressure he endured. That flared dick was too big, way too big for him. Yet... he sensed its progress against his hole. More than an inch had passed inside... But it felt like more. So much more. His legs quivered and trembled while the creature above him huffed. Those legs... They surrounded him; he was below that beast that would claim him.

You are losing 10 Health points from Feral Breeding. Accept your duty.

You are losing 10 Sanity points from Feral Breeding. You will serve.

The notifications kept hammering Nordis, nagging and eating away at his mind. But he couldn't close them fast enough. He heaved like a beast of burden. All due to that burden inside him, of the second inch deep in his ass.

Above... Above, the creature screeched but still progressed. Its massive hips hammered Nordis' lithe form... And each thrust rocked the lithe Dragon's shape. It progressed, dug out, and hollowed the Dragon, who felt his body weaken...

You are losing 10 Sanity points from Feral Breeding. Almost there.

You gained the passive "Size Queen". You can accommodate your masters' needs.

Like a broken Dam, the beast's dick suddenly passed through Nordis' hole. It plunged deep in a screech of satisfaction and delight as the Dragon gasped. His entire body had accommodated to the Dick. No, his whole body was reshaped to adapt to the Hippogryph's needs. His belly bulged, his ass was spread, and his lungs were deflated.

And he gasped again when the beast began to mount him and thrust inside. It... Was fully inside. Nordis was fucked by a massive beast.

And it was pleasing. It was so enjoyable.

"This... Is so good!" he squealed.

His toes curled, his tail tip swayed, and his eyes rolled. That massive beast was crushing his guts with that mast that tortured him the instant before. But now, he couldn't have been happier without its presence hollowing him out.

It squeezed all his spots; it pressed all the places he desired, scratched all the points he had never known about.

You are losing 3 Sanity points from Feral Breeding.

You unlocked the new class: "Royal Whore".

Would you proceed to a class change?

"YES! USE ME!" cried the Arch-Dragon, his cock dripping with what seemed to be semen. His semen. But it wasn't important. It... It had never been.

Only mattered, only remained that delightful sensation as that massive beast pushed its huge dick inside and stopped. In a screech, more of that delicious semen was poured inside Nordis, warming him up. Filling him.

You gained the status "Cumflated". You gained the title "Beast fucker". You-

"Hey, Dragon. Still ready? You have more customers waiting for you," chuckled the Soldier not from afar.

Above Nordis, the Feral had started to move and depart... But indeed was another Hippogryph, larger this time, ready for him. Then another one, larger and larger... He was blessed.

"Yes! They can all fuck me!"

Reputation with the Hippogryphs' republic increased: Royal Whore. Welcome.

You gained the status "Marked by the Beasts". Only they can like you.

Reputation with Ortivandis decreased: Despised. They know you.

Restriction lifted: You can use your Regal form. Praise the generous lords.

You are losing 10 Health points from Feral breeding. Take it.

You gained the title "Mounting Post". Be proud of your purpose.

You are in a restriction zone, you can no longer use your Regal Form. A just return.

You are losing 10 Health Points from Choking Damage. You deserve it.

You are losing 10 Health Points from Choking Damage. They punish your arrogance.

Your reputation with General Priot increased: Bride. This is the best for you.

"Something the matter, Slut?" asked the General.

Collared and attached, his mane matted with cum and other fluids, the arch-Dragon looked at the notification before his eyes and ignored it. Those notifications kept coming, kept hammering the Dragon's tired sight without giving it a rest.

It was unfair; he had been a good bitch in the last days... Or so he believed, but he hadn't been given a rest. He rolled gently to accommodate his distended and sore guts, sloshing with all that good Hippogryph semen inside. And looked up at Priot, at the General.

"Nothing, Master. I got another notification," mumbled the Dragon, ashamedly looking down and returning to give his sir's massive balls a proper tongue bath. The skin was coated with sweat, stinky, and musky. But lately, the Arch-Dragon no longer received any notification about any Musk damage.

That was good... He loved his Master's scent; he loved to lick and worship his Hippogryphs lords. It had been unfair for him to be punished for this... It was so unfair. Everything had been so unfair for a good Dragon bitch like him.

"Good. Tomorrow, you won't be working with the ferals anymore; I need you with me," said Priot, grabbing onto the Dragon's horn to force him higher... Oh, it was a treat for Nordis. A reward the Dragon welcomed by extending his tongue and tasting the luscious sweat accumulating beneath his master's armpit. It was always salty, tasty, and perfect. Even if it meant for his weak legs to move and lift his swollen guts, it was worth it.

"No more Feral?" asked the Dragon in between a lick, gulping the droplet at his tongue.

"They can wait a few days. I need you by my side," stated the Hippogryph, looking up from his notes. "The twentieth of the Wine Moon, our army will march on Skälle for the first time and crush those worthless Dragons!"

Nordis blinked. Somehow, he knew the name. Skälle was a bad name: his Master hated it, so he should hate it. And yet, it... It was familiar.

"Do not fret, Slut. I will parade you to show the other Dragons their purpose in the empire. Does it please you?" asked Priot, looking down at his slut. At his submissive and inferior whore.

"... Yes, Master. I want to be paraded at your side!"

Reputation with Ortivandis decreased: Traitor. They need to be punished.