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From the pen of William Brightshire, Esq.:

I called the lizard my manservant, but in reality he was a slave--a war trophy taken on one of the endless campaigns of expansion our dear motherland tends to wage at the drop of a hat. Do not get me wrong: I'm a gentleman so I do not sympathize with the abolisher rabble. I'm perfectly aware that while slavery is unpleasant and uncouth thing, it is also integral part of economy of the great human Empire, and without it the entire system would collapse. It is just that previously I have not indulged in the practice, like some of my peers tend to do, so I was still feeling apprehensive about it.

That is why it was such a chance encounter when I saw him the first time. I do not usually visit the slave market, but since it was such a lovely summer's day that I had decided it would be for the best to squander it in idle leisure, I let my feet take me wherever they would wander. He was--as he still is--a hulking brute, easily head taller and much wider at shoulders than me, and as a former commander and adventurer I'm not a small man either. He stood there chained and hunched over, but still resenting it with a furious glint to his eyes. No doubt a warrior taken as a prisoner of war on some raid, he had both old scars and fresh welts crisscrossing across his dark green skin. No doubt he had been repeatedly and savagely beaten by his captors to subdue his spirit. He had bruises on the soft spots of his body, his other eye swollen shut, and I believe he was missing a tooth. Maybe that was the reason I took pity on him, to see such a proud being not unlike myself brought so low. At least I like to tell myself that it was an act of charity that made me bid for him. He fetched an unusually low price, and the slavers seemed glad to be rid of him.

Our first encounter together did not start auspiciously. I had him brought to my mansion, and I talked to him in a cheerful manner, trying to convince him that not all humans are as cruel as his task masters. He did not reply but simply stood there in the middle of room, glowering at me with his yellow reptilian eyes. As a show of trust I decided to remove his slave collar--if you the dear reader are unfamiliar with those, they are these ugly bands of iron stamped with a magic rune for tracking escaped slave, and a common sight even here in the capital city. I put my hands around his neck to work with the complex locking mechanism, which made him agitated, his thick tail lash nervously back and forth. Cursing under my breath about his fidgeting I managed to undo the clasps, and the collar fell to the ground with a loud clank.

He attacked me instantly.

He turned around with reptilian speed and with a growled hiss bashed against me with his entire bulk, sending me flying to the floor. Only thanks to my reflexes I got my arm between my face and his maw of serrated teeth and avoided instant death, but he was still pinning me down with his mass of muscles and scales. In situations like these you do not have time to think--your body either fights with intuition or you die, simple as that, but your brain still picks up the weirdest of details. I still remember being surprised how his breath smelled like freshly killed fish, strangely mild and not unpleasant as he was gnashing his teeth right in front of my eyes, flecking my face with his spittle. My other arm was still free so I gave him a sharp jab to his unprotected side and hit the nerve cluster making him double in pain. Using the distraction I quickly climbed on top of him and took him into a choke hold. Wrestling his muscular frame felt like trying to bend squirming steel bars, but my technique was far superior and in the end he was helpless against me bending his joints into a painful, unnatural position.

After a while he ceased his struggling and simply gave up, becoming limp in my arms. I stood up and dusted my clothes. He rose to a sitting position and hung his head, subdued. He did not resist when I clasped the slave collar shut around his neck again. Of course I would have been well within my rights to give him to the authorities and have him executed, but for some reason I chose not. Maybe I was still a little bit ashamed of myself for owning a slave and thought that I had caused the incident with my careless actions, or perhaps I felt the confrontation an exhilarating exception in my otherwise pleasantly dull retired life. Who knows? The fact was that the lizard did not try attacking me again. I had shown him my superiority and made clear what his position was, and he accepted it grudgingly. Over the months we fell into a routine, where he followed my orders dutifully but in sullen silence. I found this arrangement acceptable, and soon having a lumbering manservant follow my step felt entirely natural.

The event that changed that happened during the winter. It was an unusually cold season, plagued by blizzards that coated the city in a white shroud. The lizard, being an inhabitant of much warmer lands did not take it very well and to spare him of the worst of it I tended not to leave the house very often during that time. One evening I was in my study, reading a manual on warfare and sipping mulled summerwine in front of a cozy fireplace. The window panes were cracked with frost and the chilly fingers of winter crept in from the corners of the room, so I had wrapped myself snugly in my thick smoking jacket and blanket, content and fully determined not to budge an inch. I wanted another mug of wine and gazed up from my reading, when I noticed that the lizard standing by looked utterly miserable. He was pale--as much as his kind can be, anyway--and hunched over and visibly shivering. I became worried about my companion's health and decided that something needed to be done.

I ordered him to sit on the floor in front of the fireplace, and rose up to scrounge through my old adventuring gear which I had stored in chest and drawers scattered around the room. Soon I found what I was looking for, an unused potion of cold resistance that I had once acquired for an arctic expedition. I ordered the lizard to sit still, uncorked the bottle and poured bit of the oily, fragrant substance on his shoulders and back. I started spreading the potion with my hands, rubbing it on his rough, scaly skin. He felt tense under my fingers, poised in a rigid position so I told him to trust me and how much better this would make him feel. Slowly, under my massaging hands he started to relax and his knotted muscles untensed. To spread the potion evenly I'd had to remove his collar, which must have been constantly ice-cold in that weather. Wary of what might happen based on our first time I unlocked it and lifted it off. The lizard did not lash out this time which was something I was genuinely happy for. I poured a bit of the potion on his neck and back of his head and started massaging it in with deep, stroking motions. The effect of this on him was remarkable. He closed his eyes, tilted his head upwards and opened his jaw letting his thick blue tongue hang loose. At that time I was blissfully unaware that for lizardmen neck is particularly sensitive area, and it is often grabbed or bitten during mating or dominance displays.

Having finished with his back I rolled him over and pushed him to the ground. Sitting on top of him I applied more of the potion on the bulging muscles of his chest and slim abdomen. The scales on this side were pleasantly smooth, and with large, sweeping motions I spread it all over his arms, neck and tip of his snout. The lizard was completely still but it was obvious that for the first time he was enjoying my attention. As I was finished with his head I leaned back, and felt something hard brush against my leg. He had become quite aroused!

His erection was sprouting from a slit between his legs, purplish in hue, wider at the base and tapering towards the tip. He was big, keeping in proportion to his body size. I was completely dumbstruck, not knowing how to react. I had had no experience nor interest in other males, but it was obvious that his condition resulted from my actions. Blushing and flustered, I switched my attention to his legs and tail to get some time to think. It was for naught, because rubbing my hands around his powerful calf muscles did not make him any less excited or gave me any ideas how to handle the situation in a tasteful manner. Soon I was finished with the legs and moved upwards his tail, until the only spot left was its base and his raging erection. There, I hesitated.

The lizard's breathing had become shallower, but he was still content to just lie there, legs spread open and waiting. His eyes rested half closed and he licked his tongue snake-like every once in a while. I am not proud of what I did, but I cannot deny that I was not at least bit intrigued by the inner workings of this strange creature. I swallowed, then grabbed his cock with my potion-lubricated hand. It felt cool in my hand and as hard as a bone. I could feel the slow pulsing of his heart. Nervously, I started stroking him and he rewarded me with a deep, guttural growl. He lifted his pelvis a bit upwards, keeping himself in a tensed position and exposing his groin area to me completely. Getting swept up in the moment I slid my other hand down his shaft, and inserted my index and middle finger into his slit. There I could feel a massive bulge deep inside his cloaca and started massaging the throbbing knot of muscle and nerves responsible for his erection.

This seemed to be immensely pleasurable to the lizard. He started breathing quicker and made thrusting motions with his hips. With every thrust a droplet of clear precum squeezed out of his sharp tip, drizzling over my knuckles. It was not long until he started making hoarse noises, and suddenly clenched up completely. For a moment he stood still, then a stream of milky, thin ejaculate shot from his member in several spurts. It flowed freely on my hand and his abdomen, running in rivulets between his scales and abdominal muscles. Spent, the lizard flopped on his back and his erection started to subside almost instantly. I was blushing fiercely and flustered by my strange actions. I hurriedly started wiping him clean with a cloth I had reserved for cleaning my hands. I considered myself a heterosexual man, but this raw display of sexuality had left me with an erection of my own throbbing against my pants. Hiding it as well as I could I coughed and tried to make myself look busy. I did not dare to look the lizard in the eyes, and the strong stench of his lizard cum clinging to my hands did not make me feel any less awkward either.

He rose, and for the first time he spoke to me. He thanked his master for being kind enough to relieve him of his sexual frustration. I glanced at him, and at that moment I knew for certain that from now on he would be mine, willingly. I gulped once more, and told him that he was dismissed from duty for the night. He nodded and picked up the slave collar, clicking it shut around his neck. As he was about to exit the room I called him back and reminded that the potion had a duration of only 24 hours. It would have to be applied tomorrow again.

He smiled and told me that he was looking forward to it.