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My army is a sea of iron

Flooding nations with blood

Crashing against the walls of forts

Sweeping all alike before it

Resistance means death

Surrender means slavery

There is no rest, we march north...

The carriage lurched forward, pulled by a gang of fresh picked slaves. Being a long carriage plated with two inch armour, it took a very large gang of slaves to pull. The idea of rebellion or dissent never entered into their little brains though. Oh no, they were trained to fear my whips. Even through the iron plates, I could hear the crack of the leather.

Fuck if it didn't get my cock as hard as granite in seconds. I sank into a fur-lined chair and ran a hand down my rough scales. With no battle to fight, I'd forsaken my armour and wore nothing but red pants, leaving my feet and chest exposed. Being a Dragon, the elements meant little to me with my hard crimson scales. My internal inferno kept my body at a constantly high temperature: perfect for the cold evenings of my desert home, but equally handy in the windy north.

My claws rubbed over a black nibble, hard like a pebble. Taking it between my thumb-claw and index-claw I tweaked it sharply to the right, growling low in the lustful pain. Twisting it to the left even harder, the sharp stab of pleasure practically reduced me to a moaning lump amidst the furs. The knowledge that those were the furs of rulers who had dared to challenge me to a one-on-one duel drove me over the edge. My pants were beginning to tent as I squeezed down hard on the nipple. Despite my rigorous training in self-control I convulsed, my back arching and a desperate moan escaping from my throat.

What was going on with me? It wasn't like my balls were backing up or something: I'd emptied them up Iago just the day before. I did have an abnormally high sex drive, granted, but this was just pathetic. I'd never, once in my life, needed to pleasure myself. I took what I wanted, whether that was money, power or pleasure.

Yet here I was, fondling and abusing a nipple while my cock strained against the loose cotton of my pants. I growled, partially in anger at myself, and partially in pent up sexual frustration. Launching out of the chair, I stormed over to the door at the far end of the carriage and threw it open. 'Fenrir!' I roared, knowing my commander would be following just behind.

'Yes, my lord,' the Wolf grabbed hold of the side of the door frame and vaulted into the carriage. His eyes momentarily flitted to my erect nipples and the obvious bulge between my legs. He gave a small grin, and was that a look of hunger in his eyes? 'What is your wish?'

'Have someone bring over one of my slaves over.'

'Of course, lord Xethrall. Any particular,' he mused over the word, 'Flavour?'

I chuckled. Fenrir always had an interesting way of phrasing things. Frank, loyal... he was the closest thing I had to a friend in an army of vagabonds and miscreants. He'd been with me from the start, since by brutal rise to power and through the countless orgies of blood and severed limbs.

'I think I'll have Iago. He still needs training. Oh, and Fenrir?'

'Yes, my lord?'

'How did you enjoy last night?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Well... Did you take your fill?'

'More wine and women than I knew what to do with!' We both laughed. 'Men too, come to think about it.'

'Oh really? I didn't know we shared a similar interest.'

Fenrir shrugged. 'A hole and a pulse is all I ask. I'm not picky.'

'That's good,' I nodded, smiling inwardly. 'If you ever feel the need, do help yourself to my own collection.'

'Thank you, sir,' Fenrir saluted and left. For my part, I turned and dropped myself back into the chair, idly tracing my six-pack. After five minutes or so, the door opened again and Iago was shoved in, falling onto his knees. His excellent body was now filthy and covered with small cuts and bruises. Still delectable, though. Surprisingly, and unlike almost all my other slaves the first time they were delivered to my carriage, his eyes weren't wide and fearful. Disappointingly, they were sombre and resigned. I intended to change that. 'Iago, welcome,' I said, spreading my arms wide. 'I hope you're being treated well. How are you enjoying your new life?'

'I was thrown into a cage full of your other victims.'

'Victims? That's a very harsh word to use,' I broke into a smile, displaying razor sharp teeth. 'Compared to what I do to those who don't submit.' I ran my claws through the fur covering my chair.

'From what I hear, those who do are forced to endure an even worse fate.'

'Well, if you're having reservations,' I said, rising and walking over to one wall. My carriage was a monument to war: weapons, shields and suits of armour taking up almost every available inch of space. I picked up one of my personal favourite, an executioner's axe, and spun it expertly in my claws. 'It's not too late to turn back.'

It had the desired effect. Iago's eyes immediately grew large and he shook visibly. Another rush of blood flooded through my member. It didn't escape my captive's notice. He must have realised what he was there for as he began to back away, his tail falling down to protect his still sore tail hole. He knew his loincloth would provide absolutely no protection.

'That reminds me... now you're mine,' I replaced the axe and walked around behind Iago. Dropping down onto my knees, I raised the back of his loincloth.

'Please...' Iago moaned. 'I don't think I could handle another...'

'Shut up, I have no interest in a loose ass. Your tail hole is safe, at least until it tightens up again. I'm merely branding you.' I traced my claw along his right cheek, leaving a perfect red X that would heal into a fine scar, marking him as mine.

'What do you want from me?' My latest acquisition whimpered.

'That pretty, long muzzle of yours,' I ground out, returning to my chair pulling my pants down to my ankles. My member stood almost straight up, red and glistening.

Iago slowly crawled forward on hands and feel and my mind began to reel with desire. I love it when they crawl. As he positioned himself between my legs, I waved my claws before his eyes. 'And if you so much as graze me with your teeth, I make it so that you never bite anything ever again.'

Iago swallowed nervously and licked his lips. Good, I didn't want my cock scraping up and down an dry throat. His tongue reached out tentatively as he leaned forward and closed his eyes. The first moment of contact sent shivers up my spine. Slowly, ashamed of himself no doubt, he licked his way from the base, up along the ridges and around the tip. He opened his mouth and began to take my length in his mouth. As his lips wrapped around the head, my desire took over. Grabbing him by the small mane he had between his ears, I roughly shoved his head downwards. At the same time I thrust my hips up to meet his mouth.

He gagged, his throat closing around my meat and squeezing it harder than even the tightest of tail holes. I sighed contentedly and closed my eyes, leaning my head back as he started sucking me off. From far off, it seemed, I thought I could hear the sounds of screams and iron clashing on iron. 'Ambush!' I lurched up, that single word sending a cold dread plummeting into the pit of my stomach. A soldier's worst nightmare, being played out while I was getting a blow job. Maybe I was becoming lax...

Kicking Iago out of my way, I hitched my pants up and grabbed the axe from its wall mount. As I threw open the door and stepped out, the din assaulted me: the screaming of my own men as unseen attackers hewed them down. My internal fire erupted in passion and indignation fuelled my arms. I was a red blur as I charged them, swinging my axe in wide arcs and leaving vicious red trails in my wake.

Damn jokers... how dare they! I was Xethrall the Conqueror, and here were a group of fools thinking they could take me by surprise. Well, the joke was on them, as my men were not strangers to surprise attacks. After a moment of panic, they'd thrown their all behind fighting back. That's the beauty of an army made up entirely of murders: they don't care where, who or how they fight, just so long as they fight.

As I brought my axe down hard on someone's helmet, I heard Fenrir calling out my name from somewhere near. 'Xethrall, help!' Turning to look, I saw him locked in battle against a heavily armoured figure with a broadsword. I carved my way through the line of enemies towards the two. Mere feet away from them, I froze in horror as Fenrir was drive backwards, the broadsword embedded in his shoulder.

'Bastard!' I bellowed, drawing myself up to my full height and dropping my axe. Only my talons could avenge Fenrir, only a ruthless savaging would sate my anger. One fist connected with his helmet, leaving a massive dent and driving the figure back. Another fist, this time to the chest, and the figure doubled over wheezing. Seizing the opportunity, I tore off his helmet, gripped him by the throat and lifted him above the ground. A tiger, black and white striped with green eyes, glared hatefully down at me. 'Your name?' I barked out.

'You monster... You fucking miscreant.'

'That's an interesting name, and a bit of a mouthful.' I scratched my snout with my free hand. 'I think I'll stick with Bastard, if you remain this taciturn.'

'My name is Prince Dorian the fourteenth,' my captive snapped. 'Don't you remember? You killed my father.'

'I've killed so many fathers, why should I remember yours? However, it just so happens I do remember. An admirable challenge, as I recall. He fought well. I have a pillow made from his fur now, quite comfortable. The apple seems to have fallen rather far from the tree, though.' I looked around as my men finished off the final stragglers of the enemy. 'Pitiful.'

'I could say the same for your commander. What was his name? Ferris? Fetid?'

'You're not worthy to know his name!' I spun and threw Dorian into the side of my carriage. As he slid to the ground, I picked up a whip from one of my fallen slave drivers. Grabbing Dorian's arms, I tied them to the spokes of a wheel in a knot I must have done a million times. 'You won't loosen it,' I commented when he began to struggle. 'And now I'm going to make you wish you'd never insulted my friend.'

In several practiced motions, I'd rid Dorian of his armour and undergarments. Totally naked, he started shivering and shaking uncontrollably and I knew it wasn't because he was cold. I grabbed him by his tail and pulled it up roughly. There would be no lubrication, no loosening. My member screamed for release. I dropped my pants and immediately rammed forward.

The screaming was music to my ears. Every single inch of me was inside him and, from the way his tail hole was spasming around my member, it was torture for him. Slow, to make him feel every rib and vein, I pulled out, before thrusting forward again.

I could already feel my balls churning with seed. I realised I'd been pent up ever since Iago's blowjob. As I pulled out a second time, every ridge that popped out of tight sphincter brought another cry from Dorian. Taking hold of his hips I pulled him back onto my member, enjoying the feeling of our balls slapping together. Unlike that closeted slut Iago, Dorian certainly wasn't enjoying his plundering. I've never seen a cock hiding so deep in its sheath.

'This is what you get when you dare insult me!' I hissed, snorting an arid black cloud of smoke into his ear.

'You... you bastard! You monster!'

'I get that a lot,' I leaned back and laughed as I pushed in one last time and spurted my first load into him. My length pulsed as another load shot into his depths, followed by another and another. I could see the grass underneath was damp with tears. Poor little Prince... thinking he could get away with wounding my friend without punishment. A buggering was the least I could do, and only the beginning of his nightmare.

With my member still fairly hard inside him, I relaxed my body and relieved myself inside of him. I'd had several glasses of fine vintage my men had found in Iago's palace during breakfast. Now I was taking a piss right into Dorian's stomach, mixing my burning yellow piss with sticky white cum.

With as much distain and disgust as I could muster, I jerked out and pulled my pants up. Spitting on the ground next to Dorian, I turned and walked off. A large crowd had gathered around me, eager to watch their lord's latest show. I grabbed the nearest soldier. 'Where's Fenrir?'

'He's... he's been taken to the medical caravan.'

'Go there, and tell them I want him to receive the best attention they can offer.' I turned and addressed the entire crowd, 'Have your way with him, do whatever you want. All I demand is that you keep him alive!' As the crowd cheered, I leaned down and hissed in Dorian's ear, 'If Fenrir dies, then your hell has just begun. Pray he survives, and your death shall be swift. If he doesn't, then the nightmare has just begun for you.'