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Azudris looked down at the book he held, the rising daylight illuminating each page he read. The Royal Archive, the repository of his King's thoughts, desires, and dreams, etched day by day through a magic link. It had been months since he religiously read each page of that document, trying to find details or any knowledge within its sentences.

The cover brimmed with magic, something so powerful no one in the Kingdom could dispel it... Yet, he wished he could.

The hoary red-scaled Dragon closed the rich blue cover and put it back on its pedestal, trying to forget what he had read... What had been his King's thoughts.

"What should we do, sir?" asked a nearby Knight, another Dragon, kneeling by and awaiting any order.

Azudris had been named Regent by Nordis a few months ago. In his infinite wisdom, the Conqueror Dragon had gifted him the right to oversee the armies protecting the Kingdom as well as all the political influence the old Dragon needed to maintain peace. Maintain peace... The irony struck the elderly Dragon as he stepped away from the Pedestal and turned to the knight, raising an index in his direction.

"Tell the men to open the gates and try to control the population. We may expect a stampede."

"But! Sir! Azudris! Should we do something about the Hippogryphs? They will be walking through our gates! They are invading us! Shouldn't we resist? Or try to?!"

"We can't. Our only chance is to minimize our losses and hope for the best," coldly answered Azudris as he walked past the soldier toward the balcony. Long ago, when his King had been around, Azudris had sought wisdom by listening to Nordis' words when he wasn't reading the archives to see what his King was thinking.

"Our losses! We have an army! We can fight back! They're a mere avant-garde! We can crush them, pound for pound! The Conqueror King, Nordis, wants this!" answered the Knight, one of the recent replacements for those lost with the Hippogryphs incursions. Azudris wished he could tell him the truth.

"We can't!" he shouted, talking that male down before trying anything stupid. "Tell the soldiers to open the gates. And any complainers will be sent to jail... We don't possess the luxury of a last stance!"

The Knight gritted his teeth and pursed his lips. But, he turned and left. He stomped like a petulant child, followed by the men he took away. Finally, Azudris was alone, and he stepped on the balcony.

His jaw clenched, his eyes were veiled, his breath quick. He wished he could tell them what really happened. Why he called for the army to stand down and allow the invaders to walk through the gates scot-free.

The Hippogryphs had developed a weapon that could hinder any Draconic ability. Skills, powers, magic, all was naught compared to that weapon. On a battlefield, it would be, at best, an unexpected pyrrhic victory for the Dragons and, at worst, a slaughter.

Azudris wished so much it wasn't his reality. He gasped, thinking about all those soldiers that would die, those families abandoned, his duty ruined. He gripped the railing as he saw daylight land on the city, blessing those lives with its bountiful light and unveiling the immense Hippogryph army sieging the walls.

He gasped and gargled, unable to contain the emotions that threatened his mind. He knew... He was the sole one who knew his King was coming back. He was the sole one who knew what had happened to his liege. And he tried to control his shivers.

---

He had to stay calm, to keep quiet as he walked on the dais in front of the Royal Palace. Usually, this would be where King Nordis would stand in his draconic form to display his might and power. However, Azudris, smaller and in his bipedal form, walked forward on the plain place. The rows of soldiers on his left and right were kept tight, though dismay was slowly appeared on their faces. He knew the reason why.

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

For the first time, Azudris witnessed what his King, Soldiers, and Knights had experienced. Like a cold wave, he felt weakened and diminished. So would be the men who seemed to realize what was happening to them slowly.

Perhaps he should have told them the truth, but... No.

Hence, he marched on and spoke with a booming voice devoid of the husky tone he had.

"Welcome! I am the Azudris, Regent of Ortivandis, and Protector of the capital, Skäll!"

He bowed, placing an arm under his chest while extending his open palm, such as were the formalities.

"I don't care, Dragon."

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

A gasp overtook the soldiers, and Azudris could have choked on his saliva. His eyes bulged, and his fingers trembled while he looked at the notification window. Then, above. He saw the Hippogryph sitting on a makeshift throne, pulled by his Feral kin.

Already, some of the soldiers near those beasts seemed displeased, nauseous, and about to faint from the suffusing musk... The notifications windows they were seeing wouldn't help. If Azudris acted too slowly, the commotion would spread across the army.

"Sir!... General Priot! You are a sane man! Perhaps we could discuss this matter in private!" shouted Azudris, trying not to glance at the body of the naked Hippogryph.

A difficult task as he focused on those hazel eyes with intense black brows over them. The feathers over that head were of a varying shade of black; but they were most intense above and on the side of the eyes as if to amplify that natural scowl, and over those upright feline ears. Priot's yellow beak clasped around the air as if he was furious while his yellow-scaled hands extended to reach for what was between his spread white-furred legs.

It was a display of power and disrespect to have him be naked and serviced when in public, surrounded by nobles as he entered the city. It proved that he wasn't afraid of fighting, of displaying that broad chest and sinewy muscles beneath his coat. Although Azudris knew the truth, the Hippogryph used his first card.

Like a disdainful master, he pushed against the head of the Dragon between his legs. He didn't utter a word but merely looked down at his slave. His scowl seemed to have been enough to motivate the slut to move as that trembling body shivered.

The wings fluttered, that back outstretched while standing up. Those hind legs sported the Dragon as he turned and exposed himself: he possessed shaved purple-blue horns, grimy scales over his face, a glassy blue gaze, and a shaved and disgusting cream mane.

The commotion among the soldiers was growing, their spears hitting the stone in fear or disgust as they watched the slut move and their notifications screen popped in.

The Dragon's belly looked swollen to the point the cum-covered scales were nonexistent. His wings had been punctured with holes, tattered as if they had been the target of continuous abuse. And his legs wobbled as he advanced, with his ridicule manhood dripping on the limit of the Throne's platform.

Before his eyes, Azudris saw the notification window too... And the confirmation of his fears.

You are in the presence of the Traitorous Slut Nordis, the Royal whore. Reputation: Disdainful.

"Stand down, men! The new King Priot is here to conquer and bless us all!" shouted Nordis, his voice as clear as the morning dew. Azudris bowed, holding back his tears and shivers. His King has returned.

The King, or former King, was satisfied with himself as he saw those lowly dragons whores fidget in their armors. Already, some showed promising potential in servicing the Feral Hippogryphs. They were weak on their legs, unable to stand... Probably overtaken by the presence of superior males who hadn't been able to breed for days on end.

"This is enough. Let me talk," stated Priot from behind. His lover had been standing up, and already his warm presence pressed against Nordis. The Hippogryph was slipping a finger beneath his tail to ensure he wouldn't stray away... As if it was possible. The Royal Dragon bit his lips and pushed his hips back, impaling his ass on the clawed fingers, enjoying the warm presence in his cum-coated hole and plugging it. He had been filled this morning, but without a plug, it had been impossible to keep all that good Hippogryph semen inside, thought the slutty King while shaking his hips and barely listening to his lover.

"Thus! I will marry Nordis and make him my Queen to ensure the peace in the Kingdom. Should anyone oppose this union, speak!"

Priot always had a way to impose himself. He could be rough, powerful, callous... Callous like those fingers stroking Nordis' abused prostate. It had been a good plan. Priot's brother, Klein, was the president of the Hippogryph's Republic. However, the annexation of Nordis' land could be perceived as dangerous. It seemed more logical for the King to step down and give him entire power while reinforcing the Hippogryph's hold in establishing a proper order. It was a perfect, fantastic order where Dragons would be adequately trained, bred, and sold as commodities to their masters. A perfect plan...

Except for Azudris, the red Dragon was fidgeting in his place. That old Dragon... if he dared.

"Don't let him speak; he will ruin everything," moaned Nordis, rubbing his asshole and cheeks on his lover's hand.

"How so, slut?" said Priot, brushing over the prostate until a little spew of precum escaped Nordis' cock and made him whimper.

"He- He knows what happened. He will do something... Just- Just ruin him, please!" asked the royal Dragon, clenching his thighs and closing his mouth as he felt an orgasm approach. It was so close to wash over him, to make him spurt like a good girl. He- He...

The commotion and cries echoed within the place again, but Nordis didn't care. His dick felt so good as he ejaculated, trails of cum hitting the royal dais while his legs wobbled.

"Fine," whispered Priot before he pulled his finger out and wiped it on Nordis' mane. He took another step and then jumped off the platform. Naked, his large white-furred testicles swayed and saturated the air with their earthy and pungent smell. Even Azudris wouldn't be able to resist it.

"Regent Azudris. Too long have you and the nobles enabled corruption to take root within Ortivandis. With the power conferred by your Conqueror King, I condemn you to Servitude!"

---

"Nordis! My King! My Liege! You cannot do that!" squealed Azudris, fighting and making life more difficult for the Hippogryphs soldiers, like a child. All the while, Nordis walked in front of the procession within Skäll's jail.

It had been an excellent idea from Priot to keep the former nobles there before they were properly "treated" for their affliction and pride. But it also made some more reticent, like the elderly red Dragon who dragged his feet.

"Yes, I can. Do not worry. This is a far better experience than you may think! The ferals can be very gentle," said Nordis, daydreaming about their flared tip spreading his quivering hole. But he couldn't indulge in them anymore, not since... Well. The Dragon stroked his belly lovingly.

"I- My King! Come back to your senses! You cannot marry that monster! You cannot inflict us this!"

"Do not worry, it'll be better!" confirmed Nordis, approved by the chuckling of the two soldiers.

Reputation with Azudris decr-

The cream-maned Dragon closed the notification windows, like the many he had received before. He didn't care about what nobles and dragons thought, only mattered Priot. And his lover needed one thing: Prepared nobles.

Thus, they passed the threshold and were welcomed by the cold air... And the pungent musk from the Ferals. The Jail's courtyard had been repurposed to convert the Dragons to their new purpose, and Nordis enjoyed the familiar sight of Dragons in stocks, aligned while mounted by their newfound lovers.

"You are lucky. Priot wants you to be at my wedding. But I want to pair you with a Hippogryph before that. You should have married earlier."

"I AM A WIDOWER! WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?!" screamed Azudris, his eyes teary.

"We'll find you a husband who will make you forget those bad memories."

As such, finding a husband for Azudris was to have him attached to the stocks like all the Dragons, all the recalcitrant nobles, and all those who opposed the Hippogryphs' just and wonderful country. And to have them breed.

One after another, those squeaky opportunists squealed and shouted whenever their future lovers took turns with their asses. It made sense: most Hippogryphs were so well endowed it would put to shame any "male" Dragons within Skäll and beyond. Nordis knew it, the ferals knew it, the soldiers knew... Only those "males" had to be illuminated by the truth.

They needed to be taught, to be blessed...

Feral Hippogryph is breeding Azudris. Feral Hippogryph is breeding Azudris.

Even Azudris, his red-colored face fulminating and grimacing, would need a lover's embrace. He may be frowning and glancing at Nordis through the notifications, but the former King had no care. Azudris would become happy, too.

"Do not look at me with those eyes," chuckled Nordis, feeling a clawed hand cup his ass and another reach for his lips. "Oh, the boys a'e hung'y"

More fingers joined his round belly, the nubs in the guise of horns, his mane. That was true; the soldiers had to cross all that land with little to no sluts available.

"Hehehe, slow'ly" said Nordis, sucking on the scaled fingers while others explored his plump cheeks and even got a caress on his gaping rim. He sensed the curiosity as the men tugged and pulled on his hole, trying to see how far he could stretch. Only an adult feral could threaten his cunt... Their dicks, as big and wondrous as they are, couldn't leave a dent.

Nonetheless, the slutty Dragon dug his toes and shook his hips as he sensed that flared tip press against his orifice. A jolt and shiver went through Nordis' spine, making his tail naturally lift and expose his self-lubricated orifice. From it emanated the pure scent of a Hippogryph's musk... Whatever remained of the King's scent had been crushed and erased, replaced by that earthy fragrance that made his head swirl with needs.

And desires as that cocktip went down his orifice.

"Go.. Bo-ys!" said Nordis, stopped when he felt someone kick his legs and force him to lie on the ground. Above him, he saw the many soldiers of different coats holding onto their shafts and masturbating. So many to please, so many to serve. And the first had already started to impale that draconic slutty hole on his cock.

He gasped, feeling the corona nudge at his oversized prostate and steal a spurt from Nordis. Nothing could beat that... Nothing could have made Nordis happier than to feel his good dragon spot being teased and stimulated by the expert shaft of a man who held him by the thighs and used him like a mere toy.

Nordis' blue irises rolled as his muzzle was forcibly grabbed and opened before a greasy and musky dick was force-fed to him. He wished he could tell them to do more, be rougher, and be more brutal with him. That's how he wanted it to be...

However, he didn't have to say it. They chuckled, grumbled, talked to themselves. More dicks were presented for Nordis' delicate and unclawed hands to masturbate. The Dragon's body had been remade to please his betters, disarmed and weakened until nothing was left: no talons, wings, or horns. Remained instead a meek whore happily jumping on the soldier's hips, his asshole tightly gripping the orifice.

His body had been trained by Priot, by the men. He had been taught how to comport himself in the Hippogryph's society, how to be a good Queen for his lover...

A good Queen should know how to clench that cunt around a real male's dick.

A good Queen should serve all subjects equally and weather their reprimands.

A good Queen should have no thoughts, no desire to fight, no aspiration to control.

A good Queen... Should be like Nordis.

A poor Dragon slut guzzling in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded by so many soldiers, even daylight had been obscured. A slut that happily swabbed that long and inured throat with one shaft after another until cum and saliva poured from each corner of that mouth. A whore whose asshole had the expert touch of fingers and then more. A bitch whose digits danced around the dick, expertly grasping them and titillating their low-hanging testicles with his little clawless tips. In the chaos of men chuckling, chortling, and calling out the former King, Nordis felt at his place.

He drowned in the pleasure, in the instant, while his poor soft cock dribbled its impotent legacy onto a man's belly before another one would come to replace the shaft inside him.

He was blissful, his eyes rolling, his orgasms so intense, and yet nothing compared to those previous to his incarceration. The Hippogryphs had gifted him that pleasure and stamina... He was genuinely grateful for this. This is why he reached out after another man ejaculated. His deft fingers moved expertly until... He encountered something that wasn't a bare crotch.

Nordis' brows lifted while he was unable to mouth his surprise, throat-fucked as he was by a soldier. But the energy from the men seemed to dissipate. Their chuckles abated, they looked down in shame, and many pulled up their pants until they parted and left the cum-coated Nordis with enough spunk to impregnate all the Females from the republic. He reeked, he was ugly... And that was how he saw another familiar face. A Hippogryph, his coat white like snow with elongated black brows. Though his suit was still as elegant as before, it had been ruffled, and the man lacked his typical monocle.

You are in the presence of Albert, the court mage. Repu-

"Kin- Queen Nordis?" asked a cream-coated soldier who seemed lost and disgusted as he held Albert by the arm. The mage had been fitted with an inhibitive collar, and its glimmer revealed how it limited the Hippogryph's action. "We found this traitor hiding in the Palace. He said he knew you."

Nordis watched the tense Hippogryph clench his beak, his frowning intensifying while he tried to force on the inhibitive collar. Perhaps he had been forced to keep quiet?

"Oh... Uh. Yes! He was... My court mage!" recollected the Dragon, coughing to clear out his throat from all the semen sticking around before spitting it out. He stood up, pulling out the equine shaft until his asshole gaped in the cold air.

"Good. Priot wants to know your opinion about what we should do to him. Currently, we have three options-"

The voice from the soldier phased out as Nordis enjoyed the sensation of the icy air rubbing against his swollen rump, contrasting with the burning hot cum pouring from inside. It was a delicate harmony he could shift by clenching his rim and reducing the flow or releasing it. He-

"Queen Nordis?" interrupted the soldier, frowning at the toothless Dragon.

"Oh! You asked me? Put him with the nobles. The Ferals will handle this!" said Nordis, turning away and stretching his battered wings a bit.

"N- My Queen! Priot said we should-"

"I want Albert to join the celebration, but he's a hopeless bachelor. He'll be better with a husband!"

Behind, he heard a muffled screech, the commotion, and the sounds of clothes being torn down. He listened to the hooved steps from the Hippogryphs as they fought to keep the mage in check and drag him towards one of the stocks. Nordis followed the same direction as he approached Azidrus.

"Queen Nordis! What should we say to General Priot about the traitor?" asked the soldier, to which the Dragon replied by waving his hand: "I'm handling him. And to not bother me until the ceremony!"

A befuddled stillness remained behind Nordis as he approached Azidrus' stock and watched the elderly red Dragon moan and cry in silence. He was surely drowned in notifications, though Nordis didn't care. He knelt by the old Dragon's ass and reached from the breeding shaft to force it out. The Feral screeched, interrupted in his rutting.

However, it calmed when that humongous cock, covered with many layers of sweat and cum, was ushered into Nordis' mouth. Priot never said a thing about taking a feral there.

---

"I told you to leave the Ferals behind for today," groaned the Hippogryph, upright and uptight in his ceremonial attire. For the occasion, Priot wore the refined ornamental armor he had when they first met. The filigrees depicted a proud Hippogryph passant, while the metal possessed a beautiful sheen. However, a glance down revealed how his guards had been modified to allow his malehood to peek out of his along with his testicles... Allowing Nordis to take a whiff of the addictive scent by filling his nostrils.

"I am sorry. But I couldn't pass the occasion," mumbled Nordis back. Today, he was in what could have been a regal costume: a white vest without frills, a blue shirt of the softest silk bulging from the gravid belly, and white trousers that went down to his bare feet and seemed normal except for the opening in the back. For the occasion, the slutty Dragon had been cleaned, perfumed, brushed, and scrubbed until no traces of semen and grime were left from his days spent alongside the nobles in the Jail's courtyard.

Except... For the slight drop at the corner of his mouth, one drop Priot wiped with a scowl.

"You could have waited; what would the population think? Do you want a rebellion?"

At the mention, Nordis glanced to his left.

The marriage ceremony had been prepared to occur on the Royal Dais, just in front of the palace. For the occasion, poles had been set into the place to hold festoons and support lanterns. Benches had been placed in rows to permit Hippogryphs soldiers and a few lucky Dragons, slavers and enthusiasts alike, to sit. A long red mat had been extended, leading to the couple being scrutinized by those attending and the Dragons watching from nearby houses, rooftops, and towers. However, Nordis knew the eyes weren't on him or Priot.

They were on the nobles, all those fighting against that union. All those who sought to break down the perfect love Nordis had for Priot. Even that traitorous Hippogryph of Albert had joined for the occasion.

They were all watched and observed due to their situation.

On the outer edge of the Dais, straw mats had been purposefully placed to form a half-circle where Ferals could stand and lay without ruining the majesty of the stonework. They stood on their four legs, their bodies decorated with caparisons for the occasion. And yet, their backs weren't idle: straps had been set around their barrels and ran along their sides until they led to... The betrayers.

Each of them had been assigned to a husband, a proud Feral who had served valiantly during the conflict and had to be rewarded. Each one was lying with their backs against the Hippogryphs' bellies, moaning and crying as they were rutted. Some seemed joyful and satisfied, already illuminated by the Hippogryph's glorious love. Others were gritting their teeth and trying to sour the ceremony.

In the latter category was Albert, the snow-coated traitor of his kind. It was only repentance he would soon bear the eggs of one of the most prominent Feral, like the other Nobles. They all formed such beautiful couples... Although, none could equal the grace of Priot.

"We are all united today by the might and glory of- Huff. The Hippogryphs!"

Azudris's meek and low voice sounded different due to the amplifying enchants, but Nordis could clearly define those husky tones amidst the huffs and gasps as he turned to his right.

Today's office would be done by his Regent, his most fervent servant... And Nordis couldn't have been happier to see the pained eyes and plastered smile on the Red Dragon's face, strapped beneath a Feral's belly. Like the other nobles, he had been attached to the Feral's barrel, and while the Hippogryph seemed tame, Nordis could feel what happened to his Regent. He saw the cumgut the elderly Dragon sported, the silvery liquid at the mouth corner, and the spitting whenever that poor slut tried to articulate his assigned words.

Wouldn't it be beautiful to pass a whole day attached like this and officiate?

"Focus, Nordis," harshly whispered Priot, pulling the former King from his thoughts and back to his reality. To his dripping and moist groin, he had been daydreaming again, hadn't he?

"Hmmm!" coughed Azudris, clearing his throat as he raised his sole free hand towards the couple. "General Priot, protector of the Hippogryph's Republic, Tamer of Dragons, The Blade that slays evil! Would you take as your Queen, Nordis, the former Conqueror King, the Broken Whore, the Inferior Beast?"

"I do," frowned Priot at the surprising epithet, holding onto Nordis' hands while the footsteps of a nearby soldier came near.

"And you! Nordis! The former Conqueror King-"

"He does. We will exchange our rings," cut Priot, slipping a finger in his collar to alleviate some pressure while he turned to the Dragon soldier kowtowing with the matrimonial rings. A small iron, one befitting a finger, and another much larger and golden.

Nordis didn't react or utter a word when Priot grabbed the smallest ring and yanked his hand. The General forced him to extend his ring finger and forced the band on it. He pushed, pushed, pushed until the small iron ring was... Set.

You are wearing an inhibitive ring. Only your Husband may use it.

Nordis closed the notification once read before looking at the ring. Such a small reductive ring, and yet it brimmed with energy and power. He glanced at it, glancing at what could be done before he heard a cough.

"Your turn," said Priot, eyeing the golden ring Nordis grabbed. This was too big for Priot's fingers but too small to be a proper armband. The former King knew: he had no choice but to drop to his knees before the Hippogryph.

Like a supplicant, he placed a delicate hand on his lover's left thigh while the right held the ring. Priot's sheathed was here, scrubbed, cleaned, and devoid of impurities. However, its strong and pungent smell remained and swirled in Nordis' nostrils, overtaking them and etching the perfume he would inhale every day from this one. He shivered, opened his muzzle, and deposited a kiss around the sheath that slowly unfurled. He kissed the growing length, the pulsating veins beneath the leathery skin, slipped a finger from the thighs to his Lover's scrotum. He breathed against the dick's flared tip and circled the edge with a hungry tongue. His King was ready, prepared. Thus, he placed the ring at the edge and push-

"No. With your mouth," cut Priot, ordering Nordis to debase himself in front of the former nobles, subjects, soldiers... Which he did with a devious grin by opening his mouth wide and slipping his tongue further. He pressed it against the ring, against the skin, while his lips closed. He suctioned, he drew in all that air until his mouth was shut around the proud equine shaft.

Within his mouth, he felt the constant pulse from his lover alongside the tension within the organ. He reminisced the delicious taste of raw Hippogryph musk, making his tongue's surface tickle with all those delightful sensations. Could he have something better in life? Nordis thought about it for a second... Then impaled his throat on that massive equine shaft. He gargled, gurgled, but managed to push it inchmeal within his throat until it bulged obscenely. And yet, he had only managed to pull the ring three-quarters down. His throat swelled, his breath had been reduced to a trickle, and it was not done yet.

Above, he saw Priot's satisfied gaze and egging attitude. If Nordis did what was asked of him, Priot would become a King. If Nordis were a good slut, everyone would be happy: the Hippogryphs would lead, the Dragons would serve, the Kingdom would change hands before being integrated. Peace... Peace and purpose would come to everyone.

The Dragon closed his eyes and pulled back his mouth for a second. He took a deep breath, filled his nostrils, and plunged. He plunged with his mouth first, swabbing his throat and-

You are "Suffocating": find an air pocket, or you will lose consciousness in 8 minutes.

Nordis clenched his eyes, ignoring the notification as he forced his shut mouth down... A few more, just a little more and-

A gauntleted hand landed on his shaved horns, gripping one of the nubs. There was only one who could dare to do so... And Nordis melted when that hand forcefully tugged the former King forward, up until the muzzle met the groin, the golden cockring met the base. And...

You are now married to General Priot. He owns you.

Nordis' watery eyes glimmered with joy as he saw the words. It was done. Surely, his husband would see the same notifications and more. Now, Priot owned Nordis, owned Ortivandis, owned the Dragons. And the Queen couldn't have been happier as a watery white fluid dripped from his bulging pants.

"Let's show what awaits your kind, my Queen," stated King Priot, snapping his fingers.

Nordis didn't know what that change meant in the program; everything had deviated so much... Especially as Priot moved and forced Nordis to turn, too, until he faced away from the crowd. "We'll make an example out of you."

You are "Suffocating": find an air pocket, or you will lose consciousness in 6 minutes.

Inhibitive ring activated by King Priot: You will produce an heir.

Nordis blinked at the notification. He had been used, puppetered, and forced into many actions by his husband. But this was the first time he saw that. However, his body answered on its own by raising his tail. No longer hidden, it was possible for anyone in the crowd to notice the former King's agape hole, outstretched so much it looked like a glazed donut. Cries echoed, people fainted, and the soldiers had to move in to control the commotion.

And this was only the beginning.

You are "Suffocating": find an air pocket, or you will lose consciousness in 5 minutes.

Inhibitive ring activated by King Priot: You will produce an heir. Now.

Nordis' veiled gaze was on the notification, his sluggish thoughts unable to understand what it meant. He felt the gurgles in his stomach, the shivers invading his spine, and his tail rising higher. But it didn't make sense until the first contraction. He nearly crumbled when his abdominal muscles suddenly contracted, then relaxed... Only to contract again as his bowels moved and something was ushered. Something big... Something large. Something oval.

His eyes widened as he looked up and watched his husband snicker back and snap.

The contractions accelerated, the pressure in Nordis' stomach was unbearable. And yet, he endured with veiled tears as the white shell appeared, pushed, and extended the ruined donuthole. It nearly slipped back before another contraction went and ousted the egg with a flood of natural lubricant. An egg. Nordis had been laying an egg in front of his kingdom.

"What do you think? We are not done."

Nordis looked up at his Husband's eyes... And saw the malice in them, as well as his lust. The same that throbbed in Nordis' mouth and choked him.

You are "Suffocating": find an air pocket, or you will lose consciousness in 3 minutes.

Inhibitive ring activated by King Priot: You will produce more heirs. Hail the new Conqueror King.