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The Beauty in His Breaking Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare) for Makaidos

_ _

She had to have him.

Thema knew that as soon as she saw the dragon. A biped, the slave was bound with manacles around his ankles, a short chain to hobble and wrists similarly chained behind his back, leaving no room to squirm. The slaver had been kind enough to allow him exactly four inches of chain between the wrist irons so that his muscled arms and shoulders were not strained too badly. It was the highest blessing he could hope for. He must have given the slaver some trouble, the gazelle mused to herself, fingering the fine, sheer cloth that fell in a waterfall over her body. While Thema was used to the fineries in life, the blue dragon stood entirely naked, head lowered and blinking slowly.

The gazelle paced through the slave market, blatantly ignoring the slavers calling out their wares. She had her eyes fixed on her prize. The market was set in one of the many city squares and, although she did not live in the city itself, Thema adored the bustle of life, so many hearts beating and pounding, breathing a tale untold for every fur. Glass buildings towered overhead and there was little to no greenery to be seen, only a few manicured bushes pruned into perfect globes with no a leaf out of place. Furs dressed as they pleased - why should they not? Their climate was temperate and it had been many, many years since a winter had made any fur grumble, bar the ones that were set to moan whether it was warm or cold or somewhere in between. Thema was comfortable in a pair of sheer, pink harem pants and a loose, matching shirt that wafted over her small breasts. The gazelle, true to her species, was petite but modest in public for, despite the translucent fabric, her breasts and crotch were wrapped in darker, pink fabric, neatly tucked and fastened at the back and side respectively.

Modesty was a different question entirely in the confines of her own home, however.

The slave dragon, caged within a glass cube, shifted from hind paw to paw, manacles clinking musically. Outside his pen, a slaver - a moderately built black wolf - stood quietly, allowing customers to view his wares without interruption. He had been in the game for too long to interrupt without need. If they wanted assistance, they would ask, but the wolf never pestered. Yet he never left the market at the end of the day with slaves in tow. He had the best on offer in the district and he was well aware of this fact.

Observing the dragon through the glass, the tan gazelle observed his movements, how he stood and held himself. Weariness threaded the lines of his body but his size and figure were as impressive as she had come to expect from this particular slaver. Thema had to look up at him, so great was their height difference, the tips of her horns barely reaching his broad chest. Two black horns, straight, protruded from the back of his skull, tapering to a dull point and his front was covered from the underside of his muzzle down in dirty, white plate scales, the colour of which set off the hue of his blue scales. Thus watched, the dragon raised his head, cocked it to the right and narrowed his eyes in challenge.

Thema inhaled. She had not expected slits for pupils and such a sapphire shade to his eyes. Breath came again after a moment, a sigh of appreciation. He was a specimen indeed. His unique appearance cemented her decision, yet the unspoken rebellion made her wonder how swiftly he would bow to her will. The gazelle smiled, folding her paws together in front of her stomach. She hoped he was a fighter.

They were so much more fun to break.

"New stock, Darian?"

She addressed the wolf for the first time, eyes warming with her smile.

"As always, m'dear." He leaned back against the pen, chewing something - a stick of gum? "Like the look of him?"

"Undoubtedly." Her eyes roamed. "Tell me of his training. Any issues?"

"Naught wrong with him physically, as you can see," he said, reeling off the facts with knowledge only gained from years of experience. "Twenty and three years and going strong. Acquired him a month back and have completed his level one basic training. He has exhibited no bad habits to be unlearned, so you have a fresh slate to work with, moulding him however you wish. Wasn't born a slave though, so has a bit of a bite to him. I know you like that." The slaver chanced a grin and winked conspiringly. "Have you taken stock of his wings yet?"

Thema shook her head, curious. The dragon's wings folded in tightly to his back and, with the way he was standing, facing out of the pen into the square, there was no way to discern further information about them.

"Of course, I see them," she said after brief contemplation. "But what is to note? They're normal wings, are they not? I see nothing special there."

Darian rapped his knuckles upon the glass, startling the dragon. He jumped and stumbled, almost falling flat on his muzzle as the chain between his ankles pulled taut, catching himself in the nick of time.

"Open," Darian instructed, his tone cool.

The slaver was not to be argued with and, though he scowled darkly, the dragon stood tall, slowly extending his wings out on either side of his body. Thema caught her breath and gave a little 'oh' of appreciation. With blue 'spines' ribbing the wings, the brilliant blue membranes allowed light to stream through, colouring the ground around his hind paws a striking sapphire to match his eyes. The membrane was clearly of the consistency of leather, strong and tough enough to stand up to all manner of treatment with no tears while the muscled mainstays locked in between his shoulder blades. Much larger than the wings of any other dragon that she had had the pleasure to encounter, she had no doubt that wings of that size could carry this slave through the air with ease.

There was no other option. She turned to Darian as other furs drifted closer, caught by the display.

"I'll take him."

*

The dragon was unimpressed.

It was bad enough that the slaver had bought him - the story of his capture, many years ago, was another tale entirely - stripped him of his clothes and 'retrained' him. He bristled, standing in the communal slave bathing chamber by the edge of one of the pools - hot, if the steam rising from the surface of the water was anything to judge by. And, after that excruciatingly humiliating training, he had been bought by a prey species and carted off god knows how many miles to a castle on the side of the cliff? The dragon snorted, earning himself a glance from a female husky making use of the pools, scrubbing down methodically. What did he care? They flew him in to the castle, or mansion, to be more appropriate, via private aircraft, caged like a wild animal. He loathed the glass pens, the lack of privacy, even the lack of seating within them. He'd had to sit cross-legged on the floor while the gazelle drank champagne and laughed with an Oryx fur that he could only assume was just as vain and vapid as she was, devoid of compassion. The exterior of her castle, evidencing her wealth, was a combination of crystal and glass; as the light helicopter (soundproofed) approached, it sparkled in the sun and sea spray like something out of a fairy tale, old-fashioned towers rising majestically. To him, it was simply another cage.

Flapping his wings hard enough to gust several rolled towels across the stone floor, the dragon heaved a sigh. He had been told to bathe, yet he could not find the will to do so. What was he, some kind of pet to the gazelle? A dog being sent to have a bath? She had wrinkled her pretty little nose and told him, in no uncertain terms, to make himself fresh with water and oils. The fact that he was akin to a pet was likely true, now that he considered it, though one snap of his jaws could crush her spine. He smirked. He was far more powerful than she. Just how long would it take to bend her to his will? Even as a slave, he envisioned having her eating out of the palm of his paw - figuratively, of course.

He shrugged. He would not bathe. Let her see him dirty and stinking. He was her problem now, if she chose to see it that way. He wasn't about to take blind orders from some jumping stick, regardless of what title she chose to give herself. 'Mistress', indeed.

The husky cast a curious look as he so quickly left the slave bathing chambers, bubbling pools musical in his wake. Heated by natural hot springs, the other slaves seemed to covet them - from what he could see in his scant experience there - clustering in together for a communal chat as they rubbed and scrubbed and got back to work. The dragon stretched out his wings, almost touching the perfectly perpendicular sides of the corridor he strode through, each wall perfectly white. He wondered what subtle marks his dirty hind paws, claws unfiled, were leaving and smirked.

The gazelle, for he could not see her as a mistress, awaited him in the reception rooms. Unlike the single, comfortable reception room his home, years prior, had boasted, this chain of rooms was designed to welcome and receive visitors without permitting entry into the deeper parts of the abode. The mansion stretched back so far that he could only suspect what secrets lay within, skeletons the African spent time and riches concealing: he could not wait to uncover them.

Set near the main entrance to the mansion, which was in the form of a lit tunnel dipping down into the earth, taking one into the labyrinth, the reception sprawled. Though he had ordered he meet her there, he took his time arriving, eventually stomping into the correct room to observe her reclining on a plush, crimson sofa with a high back. A bowl of exotic fruits that he could not name sat on a small, round, glass table to her right and she lay on her back, propped up with cushions but with one leg bent at the knee. Chewing slowly on a small piece of green fruit, the gazelle looked him over critically.

Silence hung in the air between them like a cloud, thunder crackling beneath the surface. Despite adequate lighting throughout the room in the form of floating globes, softly illuminated to reach every corner, several torches were set into the walls, burning with brilliant blue flame. Fireglass. Top quality. Rare strain. Expensive.

The gazelle exhaled quietly.

"You were instructed to bathe," she said at last, breaking the silence.

He shuffled his wings, but did not speak. It had not been a question, after all, so how was he to know that she desired an answer, if she wanted any answer at all, he justified. The dragon clenched his teeth, a hard line showing in his jaw, as he suppressed the urge to grin, tail undulating gently to his rear. The gazelle sprung from the sofa with more agility than he could have imagined and paced around him three times, tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. As she disappeared behind him for a second time, he stiffened; Thema's paw slid over his scales with a murmur that could have been approval, caressing him and stepping away with no more concern than she would give her pet dogs.

"You will bathe," she said, placing herself in front of him, one paw raised to stave off words, questions or further communication.

The dragon's wings trembled. Thema paid him no mind.

"Selly!" She called.

Though she did not project her voice in any particular direction, a spritely doe appeared from nowhere. Short tail twitching, she dropped to her knees and looked up at the gazelle, brown eyes wide and eager to please. As she waited, the dragon could not fail to notice that she was bare of any clothing, excepting the iron collar encircling her slim neck.

"Take this slave to the baths," Thema instructed, turning away to her lounging once more. "And have Tia send in Ashir. I'll take a stroll before the evening meal."

"Very good, Mistress."

The deer bobbed her muzzle and rose fluidly to her hooves, beckoning to the dragon as she walked away. When he did not immediately follow at her heels, she paused, confused, and beckoned again, paw curling through the air as if she was calling a dumb animal closer. He stifled a growl, too keen to show how his strength, knowing in his gut just how much he could intimidate both of them. It was all well and good for the stupid, naked deer to run around at the gazelle's whim - surely they were well suited to one another: it was not for him. He knew. He understood. Why did they not? Gritting his teeth, the dragon spread his wings wide, the motion drawing the gazelle's attention as intended.

"I have a name."

The gazelle's lips twitched and she crossed one ankle neatly over the other.

"Do you really?" Thema smiled. "How wonderful."

The dragon's tail thumped against the carpet and he shook his head, struggling for words.

"Don't you want to know?" He demanded, tail lashing like a crazed felines.

Thema shrugged, somehow making the motion oddly elegant.

"Is it important?"

"Yes!" A snarl erupted from his muzzle, upper lip curling back derisively. "Do you genuinely think that you get to own me because you have enough coin in your purse? I am not a pet and I am no slave to anyone - least of all you."

He advanced on her, eyes narrowing. He did not care that the deer was watching, paws clapped over her mouth in shock or fear or something. She had to know. She had to be told. The dragon's tail flicked as he stalked his prey.

"Do you know what I could do to you?" He said lowly, voice roiling forth in a hiss. "Oh, do say I may elaborate. It would be worth your while to know, truly, what one such as I is capable of."

Thema sighed, swung her legs off the sofa and stood, still a good foot and a half shorter than the rumbling dragon. Tilting her head up, she looked him in the eye and he half-drew his paw back in a fist as if to knock her forcibly away. Her eyes glinted wickedly, the deep amber taking on a fiery hue.

"Wrong answer."

Shooting forward like a snake, the gazelle struck him in the stomach with a hoof or a fist - it was too quick to tell for certain. Lack of sleep and nutrition made him weaker, or that was what he told himself, and he crumpled forward, clutching his belly even as his wings flapped furiously to help him remain standing. But she was not done yet. With her slave bent forward, Thema closed her paw around his throat, squeezing until his eyes popped wide and he clawed futilely at her, fighting for breath that would never come until allowed. She held tight until his legs gave out, the dragon sinking to his knees and slumping sideways, blinking as his world flickered between grey and a more terrifying black.

Awake. Awake. He had to stay awake.

The gazelle released his throat and he gasped for air, lungs heaving as he gulped down oxygen, rolling on to his back as he recovered. The floor was hard beneath him and hatred licked at his heels, an angry hiss rolling from his maw. How dare she? He made as if to scramble upright but the gazelle's hoof was suddenly between his legs, pressing down on the space beneath his slit, where his testicles were internally cupped, trapping them between her hoof and his body. The carpet, however plush it was, did nothing to suppress the pain and he arched, howling. Lines of electric fire raced through his lower body and he extended and furled his wings alternately, trying not to move yet unable to remain still. The pained squirms and twists only contributed to his torture. Through watering eyes, he met Thema's stare as she observed him calmly.

"Selly, fetch me a collar," she said calmly, as if she had done nothing more than reach for another piece of fruit.

Selly nodded and hesitated, eyes upon the trapped and pained dragon slave.

"Which one, Mistress?"

"Anything plain," Thema murmured, never once breaking the dragon's gaze. "He doesn't deserve more than that.

He did not care what she was talking about. He did not care about a collar. He did not care that the deer gave a little chuckle as she darted away. He just wanted the pain to stop. Thema bent at the waist, shifting the weight upon that one hoof to press a little more firmly, reminding him that it could be worse. Closing his eyes, the dragon clenched his paws into fists and slammed both into the ground at his sides, this time not raising them against the gazelle. She smiled.

"Now tell me your name, slave," she said slowly, leaning on her bent leg to place increasing pressure on the dragon's treasure.

If he'd had breath remaining, he would have sworn. Any that he had reclaimed was long since lost as his crotch throbbed. Dull, nauseating pain rocked his body and he shook his head, a low whine bursting embarrassingly from his snout. Why couldn't he leap up and knock the silly bitch on her arse? The dragon inhaled sharply as his hips jerked, proving his helplessness.

"Please...stop..."

Thema's eyes darkened and she leaned heavily upon her hoof.

"Name, slave!" She barked, the volume making him jump and immediately regret the decision as the motion sent the pain spiking.

"Makaidos!" He yelped. "Please - ah! - stop! Makaidos! My name is Makaidos!"

Thema lightened the pressure, maintaining her stance to keep her dragon in his right place while she mused.

"Makaidos.Makaidos."

She rolled the word around her mouth as if tasting it.

"Pretty."

The dragon, Makaidos flinched and shook his head. Not pretty. But he did not dare speak up. Who would? His friend called him Kai. Would he ever hear that name again? He could not, would not ask.

Out of the gazelle's line of sight, the little deer flitted back into the room with a circle of metal in her paws. She knelt at her mistress' side and cleared her throat lightly, bowing her muzzle as she presented the collar, unclosed, above her head like a gift.

"Ah, Selly," Thema smiled, taking the offered metal. "Good girl."

The doe flushed and wriggled, white tail bobbing. Ill advised, the dragon snorted and shifted his heels upon the carpet, searching for a more comfortable position that could not be obtained. It was difficult to relax when someone was crushing your treasure, if not as forcibly as before. Demonstrating impressive flexibility, Thema curled forward far enough to caress Makaidos' smooth-scaled neck, fingertips exploring the indentations between scales. He shivered, tail thumping, and flinched as she brought the circle of metal up, parting the gap further than seemed possible of the material. Forgetting what it was, Makaidos stared curiously. It seemed to be malleable, even if it was most certainly metal in nature, and the gap increased until it was wider than his neck. But it was a collar. But it was fluid metal. The dragon growled, drawing a sharp glance that he did not notice. He cursed his lack of knowledge. A slave was not taught and told, only picking up select snippets about the world from time to time.

Thema curled the collar around his neck.

"You think you can best me," she whispered, letting the metal settle into place over his throat, "but you are wrong. So very wrong."

The open ends of the collar fused together with a low hiss and flash of heat that may have made a lesser fur jump in alarm. Makaidos had little to fear from flame or heat but the heavy weight of metal on his collarbone sickened him, making him fear that he was about to lose what little he had eaten too many hours ago. The gazelle, done with him, stood up tall and, with a final nudge of her hoof, stepped away from his jewels, standing between Makaidos' spread legs. Afraid to move an inch and willing the pain to recede, the dragon looked up anxiously, hate battling with his nerves for dominance. Lifting her paw, Thema called Selly's attention and pointed her to the door.

"Take him to the baths," she instructed for a second time. "I'll not have such a filthy specimen in my home."

Wordlessly, Makaidos scrambled away from the gazelle and, head bowed, followed Selly to the door. The doe had a bounce in her step that he instantly hated, as much as he loathed how his eyes dropped to her round rump, perfectly fleshy. Tucked within his belly slit, his cock twitched. Even after that abuse, he was horny? It had been too long. It had been too long for many things.

"Oh and...slave?"

Makaidos faltered mid-step. Looking back over his shoulder, he caught the gazelle smiling pleasantly, returning to her earlier position on the sofa. Perhaps it was a favourite. She raised her paw in mock farewell, lips parting in breath.

"I'll take great pleasure in breaking you, slave."

*

Makaidos loathed training.

Better to be in the glass pen. Better to be at the paws of one that solely gave him physical pain. Better to be set chores. Better to be set tasks. Better to be forgotten. Then one could escape.

He made sure to bathe daily after the first incident. Selly kept him company more often than not, which was a cross between a distraction and a blessing. Conversation had been much missed and even her chatter, questions that went unanswered, was better than nothing. He even became accustomed to her nudity, barely noticing it after a day of learning the ropes, the basics that would be expected of him. Apparently, all slaves had to know the layout of the mansion and extensive study was required. He did not have a head for directions. But that was not training.

It was seeing Thema that he truly despised. The remainder of his existence was not so bad, if he was truthful. And he had no inclination to lie. For comfort, the simple room lined with beds for male slaves did well enough, even if one lacked privacy - it was more than he had ever had in the slave pens, that was for sure. The other slaves thought twice before challenging him at his size and bulk, a blessing of genetics. One night, a braver Doberman had moseyed up to the foot of his bed, insinuating that the dragon may be up for some 'fun'. It had not taken a genius to figure that one out, or which of them would be on the bottom of the liaison. The Doberman had not tried to take advantage again and bore the bruises for days later. Makaidos smirked at the memory. Maybe he should have mounted the dog instead of sending him away with his tail between his legs.

The sleeping quarters were not training. His rump smarted, blistering. He wished that no one else could see his shame, but the searing brand was there for all to see: the letters 'TH' within a perfect circle. He could only assume they were his mistress' initials.

He shuddered. That memory should not be re-visited. Cooked meat had been difficult to eat for days afterwards, the scents of dead flesh and his, respectively, burning too close for comfort.

Pacing a small, plain room near the entrance to the mansion, Makaidos ruffled his wings. Part of his new role was to welcome guests into the mansion and, since Thema was evidently expecting visitors, he had been tasked with manning the door. Maybe the usual slave was sick but, whatever the reason, the job had fallen to him. The same four walls were imperceptibly boring and he paced and paced and paced, three steps and back again, until the soles of his hind paws ached something fierce. He did not care. It was better than standing still. And it was better than being around her.

How could anyone put up with the same four walls for hours on end? Had it been hours? The dragon shook his head, disorientated. A window stretched across one wall, large enough for him to see the exterior and anyone approaching, but he did not need to look out of it. There was nothing to see out there anyway. The outside world was losing his interest and he feared it was losing interest in him too.

He snapped his head up hard enough to make his neck jerk uncomfortably. Outside - a vehicle purred, some distance up the drive. He would have called it a car or something akin to a limousine, yet no doubt the upper classes had far better nouns for purposes of description. He was proud that he could still remember that 'car' and 'limousine' were classed as nouns.

Little things.

A long, sleek, black vehicle, driven by a smartly dressed equine, pulled up to the front of the mansion, crunching on the gravel. Makaidos wondered if it was solely placed to announce visitors - the gravel, that is. The brown equine leapt from the driver's side of the limousine and raced to the back where the passengers sat. With the windows so tinted, Makaidos could not see the occupants until the horse flung open the passenger door, allowing his guests, unicorn, bear, alligator and okapi respectively, to emerge from the vehicle. Each movement with a great sense of deliberation, performing every step precisely, though the dragon could not claim there was any particular grace to them. They were simply...different. That was the best he could come up with. The bay horse doffed his cap, showing off a messy, black mane, moving his lips moved in hasty apology; Makaidos assumed the horse had been slow in attending to his passengers. Slave owners were so very demanding.

The four furs approached the door, making conversation amongst themselves. The unicorn's sinuous tail curled and uncurled, weaving back and forth with a serpentine twist. Fascinated, Makaidos stood and watched for several long moments, admiring their attire. He had never been able to afford such luxurious clothing, even before. Didn't he wish, hey?

Their approach continued, ignorant of the dragon's introspection. Realising belatedly that he was the one that was supposed to open the door, Makaidos scrambled from his small room into the expansive hall. The door wasn't locked - the guards protected the grounds and building day and night - so he opened it with a flourish, stepping back as the white unicorn pushed past, thrusting open the door without care for who was on the other side.

"I am weary," the white unicorn announced as he strode into the entrance hall, thrusting his heavy coat upon the stumbling Makaidos. "Are there no refreshments? Where is our dear Thema? Surely she would be here to meet us?"

"Keenan, please." The bear winced, brushing the brown fur flat on his arm. "Did you expect her to be at the door?"

"I, well, hm," the unicorn, Keenan, shook himself, tail snapping out and golden mane tumbling about his neck and shoulders. "I would have expected...more."

"Thema has sent us a fine welcome indeed," the okapi said levelly, looking Makaidos up and down with an unnervingly predatory glimmer to his gaze.

Makaidos shivered, turning aside to hang their coats. They would be taken to a cloakroom later: for now, he was to attend to Thema's guests.

He did not like how the okapi looked at him. He would have thought one of the clear carnivores were more suited to the glances and licking of lips that the okapi directed. Taking the last coat from the okapi, the ungulate allowed his fingers to graze the back of Makaidos' paw as he pulled away. The dragon flinched as if he had been stung.

Makaidos mumbled an apology - it must have been a common trait among slaves to apologise constantly - and stepped back to hang up the okapi's jacket alongside the others, all in a neat row upon the wall hooks. What he didn't expect was to feel a paw closing around his wrist, dragging him back forcibly. He was spun to face the okapi, whose black tongue traced a path across his upper lip, sharp blue eyes crystalline with intelligence. Holding the dragon's wrist in an iron-grip, he hauled him closer, a paw darting between Makaidos' thighs. The dragon stiffened, fighting against instinct to fight or flee. He could choose neither. The okapi almost curiously toyed with the dragon's slit, rubbing around the edges as it plumped, pink cock slipping into the open. Makaidos closed his eyes and tugged at the okapi's grip weakly. If only he could hit the damn hoofer. He'd show him what for if he didn't have metal around his neck.

But everyone knew what happened to slaves that fought back.

"Oh, a keen one," the okapi murmured, turning the dragon so that his backside was presented and yanking his tail up. "I see Thema's mark is already upon you."

Makaidos shuddered as the brand was grazed by the hoof-like fingertips, tail tucking down immediately.

"Um...uh..." Anger conflicted with forced arousal and humiliation: why did his cock have to be so hard? Why was he so horny? Oh, of course. That. Who could blame a male that had not gotten off in...how long had it been? The dragon trembled. "Please let go. I've got to put your coat away."

"Manners are lacking," the unicorn commented, flicking his tail at his companion. "Have him do his job, Jared. Let us see Thema."

Chuckling to himself, the okapi released Makaidos, giving his arse a quick smack as he did so. Straightening up with as much dignity as he could muster, he cleared his throat. He hung up the okapi's coat and faced them with a smile that did not reach his eyes, cock bobbing in the air before his lower abdomen.

"Thema is at the pool," he said, composure returning. "If you would please follow me, gentlemen, there will be refreshments shortly."

He would have felt more like an employee than a slave in that moment, leading the guests through the mansion with a swift, purposeful stride, if his cock was not still protruding from his belly slit. The damn thing just would not go away! He strode through the halls with as much dignity as he could muster, feeling the others at his back, their eyes upon him. Of course, they chatted amongst themselves, treating him as if he was not really there and they were just leading themselves through the mansion. Without him, however, they would have been utterly lost.

Makaidos passed the kitchen - one of several, at least - as his hard-on finally began to soften, dropping against his crotch as the blood flowed back to other organs that probably needed it more. The pool was uncovered and expansive, somewhere between a pond and a lake. How big did a pond have to be until it became a lake? He would not know. Makaidos shook his head, drawing a befuddled glance from the okapi that he did not register, caught in his own confusion. The slavers who had originally captured him had kept him locked away from the world, so he had little chance to compare the scale. To him, the pool was tantalising, shimmering in the sunlight with a tiled blue bottom. It curved around the decking, bar and sun lounges where Thema relaxed, laying with one ankle crossed neatly over the other. The gazelle peered over a pair of dark sunglasses with orange frames that, oddly, set off the tone of her coat, looking her slave critically up and down. Makaidos halted.

"Mistress." The word stuck in his throat and Makaidos ducked his muzzle in what he hoped constituted as a good enough bow. "Your guests have arrived."

Short and sweet but it suited rules and did the trick, he thought. Etiquette and doing as he was told was not the dragon's strongest point and following procedure left a sour taste in his mouth.

"Keenan, Imaran, it is a pleasure to see you again," Thema greeted them warmly, rising to lean in to kiss their cheeks lightly, on familiar terms. "I trust the wedding went well?"

The alligator, who had thus far drawn no attention to himself, nodded and bared his teeth in a smile that managed to appear both friendly and threatening in equal measures. Makaidos identified him as the one addressed as 'Imaran', leaving the unicorn to be 'Keenan', who was louder than his supposed other half. Makaidos stifled a snort. Males consorting with males? Who would have such a notion?

"And Jared."

The gazelle embraced the okapi that had caused him so much discomfort and the dragon flicked his tail, paws clasped behind his back.

"It's wonderful to see you again," Thema added sincerely, shaking the final fur's paw - the brown bear. "Anoki, I have much to discuss with you, but that can wait, as delightful as business matters of this ilk can be. Are you weary? Please - sit and drink with me. We shall have more tasteful refreshment shortly, but there is a variety available the bar, juices and mixes. Alcoholic too. What will you have?"

Several slaves - wolves, which seemed a strange choice for the pool - darted to her side, taking orders and complicated instructions with a skill that Makaidos envied; he had never been very good at such rapid retention. It took a few instances for anything to 'stick' with him. Awkwardly, Makaidos shifted his weight. Could he leave yet? It would be nice to disappear into the depths of the mansion again. The open air left him feeling vulnerable with the whole world above him, queasy even. It was also far too close to Thema.

"Leave now," Thema rolled her eyes upon noticing the dragon's persistent presence. "I will call for you later."

"Later? For what?" Makaidos' eyes narrowed and his tail flicked, catlike.

"You forget yourself, slave," Thema pointed to the ground and, grudgingly, the dragon dropped to his knees. "Apologise. You do not question me."

"I'm sorry, Mistress," he said softly, unable to meet her eyes not for shame but for fear she would take note of the loathing within them.

"What do you not do?"

Thema pressed, taking hold of one horn and yanking his head back and to the side so he was forced to bare his throat. The dragon shuddered.

"Question you, Mistress."

Satisfied, Thema released his horn, turning back to her guests.

"Very good. Now leave."

*

In the slave dormitory, Makaidos collapsed on his bed, exhaling loudly. Every muscle in his body ached as if he had been flying for days on end, though he had faced no great physical exertion since his arrival in the mansion - nothing challenging. Mentally drained, the dragon spread his wings out to their full extension, brushing the beds on either side of him. The beds were too close together, ten to a room and made up neatly during the day. They did not require thick sheets in such a warm climate, which was a blessing as the ones they were supplied with were distressingly thin and insubstantial.

What an ordeal...

"Long day?"

A small deer, a friend of sorts, trotted into the room, pausing mid-step with one cloven hoof held comically in the air. If he had been less tired, Makaidos would have laughed. But he did not remember the last time he had so much as chuckled. It was beyond memory.

"Very much so," he murmured at last, realising that Yanco, the young stag, required an answer, though he was no longer standing on two legs.

"Rest up then," Yanco advised, sinking on to the opposite bed and crossing his legs as if he intended to watch Makaidos sleep. "Though I'm sure I could occupy you if you were in need of another kind of release, of stress perhaps..."

Makaidos chuckled hollowly, the sound rasping without the humour he craved.

"Not tonight, though nice try," he said. "You never give up, do you?"

"You always say that," Yanco pouted, rocking back and forth, antlers bobbing.

"That's because I don't swing that way, I've told you."

Yanco raised an eyebrow and slid his gaze away evasively.

"I'm sure you'll open your mind soon, dragon."

Makaidos lifted his head from the pillow, muzzle cocked curiously.

"What on earth do you mean? I like what I like." He shrugged. "Nothing wrong with that."

Yanco blinked, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish while Makaidos stared. Daft deer...

"You have no idea what Thema plans for you, do you, dragon?" The buck shook his head, falling back theatrically so that his head bounced off the single, hard pillow.

"What_does_ she have planned?"

Anxiety stirred, fluttering in his chest like the wings of a trapped moth. Yanco shook his head again, rack dancing.

"You'll see," he grinned. "For now, you should rest. If I'm still here when they call you, I'll be sure to give you a gentler awakening."

"How did you know I was going to be called?" Makaidos asked, suddenly suspicious.

"She always calls the new ones," Yanco shrugged, neatly deflecting the question. "And you are something she'd call special, though I really don't see the appeal. Rest now, you'll need it."

Taking the best advice he had heard for the day, Makaidos folded his wings and rolled on to his side, stretching out with his hind paws hanging over the end of the bed. With the brand on his rump smarting with remembered and lingering pain respectively, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

_ _*

Yanco was not there when they tipped Makaidos from the bed.

Three of the largest slaves, African species, that Thema owned grabbed him by the tail, wings and muzzle, gripping him tightly enough to drown out protests. The tallest - taller even than Makaidos - a rhinoceros with a fearsome horn, crushed the dragon to his chest, waiting until his eyes went wide in panic to allow him a shallow breath or two. They slammed him face down on the bed, slapped cuffs around his wrists and ankles and left him in a helpless hogtie, wriggling without use of his best limbs. Though he squirmed and snarled through the paw closed around his muzzle, Makaidos could not reach the locks that clicked on the hogtie, cuffs and connecting chains too strong to break. No keys. Thema must have the keys. Of course. Above him, the elephant leered, slapping the third slave, a buffalo with a perpetually serious expression, on the back. Makaidos closed his eyes and groaned. He did not have to ask what was going on. Maybe they had chased Yanco out of the dormitory before entering. He hoped the buck was okay.

The rhino, whose name he had never caught, hoisted him bodily on to his shoulder, letting the others support his limbs and, so far, unrestrained tail. Even if his muzzle was free, Makaidos did not have to ask where they were going as he was carted like luggage through the mansion, torches flaring into life on the walls as they approached and similarly snuffing themselves out upon their retreat. It was a neat system. But he could not think about that right then. It was night time and the pool where Thema entertained her guests drew ever near.

The cool night air licked his scales, cooling beads of sweat that had slipped between his interlocking scales; it was one of few cooling mechanisms for his species. Upon the surface of the pool, one slave or another had floated white lilies, the curled inward petals cradling flickering candle flames. Could real flowers hold wax like that? He was sure Thema had her ways. He wished he knew exactly what drove the flames to dance within the petals so.

The dragon groaned as he was jostled, rearranged upon the bulky fur's shoulder for his comfort as a shoulder blade dug into his midriff. His side ached and his head throbbed as if he had charged into a brick wall. It was okay though: the pain had a time limit. The lack of pain would not last long, however, that much Makaidos was certain of. And he dreaded every iota of what was to come.

Thema glanced up as they approached, taking pleasure in the fear in the dragon's eyes. She sipped a flute of pale amber liquid, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of moisture from the glass.

"Ah, have you all seen my new slave?" Thema queried, nudging conversation in the direction she so desired. "An exotic one. He brought you in this afternoon."

The dragon trembled. She spoke of him like a possession. He wasn't a possession. He was alive. He was his own dragon.

Or was he? He was no longer sure.

The three furs who had 'captured' him deposited him on the ground with an undignified 'thump', the decking suddenly very solid after being aloft for such a time.

"You left his tail loose."

Thema scowled, making the trio quail. Inwardly, Makaidos smirked, despite striving to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

"No, do not fix it. I shall do it myself. You may return to your usual duties."

With a chorus of apologies and respects, the three African furs scarpered. After the way they had treated him, it was amusing to see them turn tail and flee like cubs. If only Makaidos didn't have bigger problems on his mind. Thema pushed between his shoulders, thrusting the dragon down on to his front, and pulled his tail up, buckling and locking two cuffs around the midpoint and the tip of his tail. These cuffs were then chained and hooked to the back of the collar that had become an ever-present feature upon his neck - sometimes he even forgot it was there. The short length of chain kept his tail raised, tail hole exposed for his laughing audience to see. Cheeks flushing, the dragon closed his eyes. Maybe he would wake up.

"Anoki, would you be so kind?"

The gazelle addressed her companion with a coy smile. The dragon shivered, looking up her slim legs to the tan 'bikini' of a kind that she wore, set with precious stones. Expensive stones. Everything about her radiated wealth.

"What would you have, Thema?" The bear smiled, spreading his paws wide. "Your wish is my command."

Thema laughed lightly.

"Nothing too extravagant, only I do not wish to exert myself tonight. Place him upon the lounger, would you?"

Makaidos did not hear the bear's reply but was lifted from the deck regardless, so he could only assume that the ursine nodded. The sun lounger was soft against his chest and stomach, much softer than anything else he had been permitted to rest upon in the mansion. Under normal circumstances, he was like a dog that was not allowed to jump on to the furniture. He exhaled gently, nosing at the fabric. Was this what comfort felt like? He had forgotten.

"However did you acquire this specimen, Thema?" Anoki murmured, running his paws appreciatively over Makaidos' pristine scales; the dragon trembled, muscles tensing. "I hear they're a rarity these days. Certainly not a single one in my studio."

"A lucky find," she answered simply. "You know as well as I how rare dragons are. I suppose it's the exotic species, although I was more interested in him as a blank state in addition to being a conversation piece, of course."

"And what do you plan for him?" Jared smiled, the okapi's eyes dark and dancing with candle flames. "You must have had some idea in mind, I know you."

"Why do you think I had to have him?" Thema was unduly short, as if expecting the okapi to already know the answer to his question. "I paid enough coin for this one, much more than I would for another of his stats."

"My apologies," he smoothed over the disruption. "Why have you brought him out tonight? Just for display?"

The gazelle smiled and her eyes glinted cruelly.

"A display of a kind, although you shall see me as an active participant."

The gazelle retreated out of Makaidos' line of sight and the dragon shivered, willing himself to be still. He could not show fear. Anyway, she was only going to try to humiliate him in front of the males, make him put on a display. She would tease or similar - nothing that he had not been privy to before. Surely it could not be so bad.

Surely not?

Leather brushed over a short fur coat and the dragon's forehead creased as he listened intently. He wanted to be prepared and the expected 'caresses' never came - only cool air tickled his scales. He shivered again. Behind him, Thema chuckled, the sound bubbling up from her throat like music, and rested a paw upon his rump as something hard and thick prodded his arse. The dragon's head whipped around and his jaw dropped, eyes going wide.

Thema smirked, unladylike and proud, as she stroked the thick, draconian-shaped dildo protruding from her crotch, breasts and cock in combination appearing terribly unnatural, grotesque. It was clearly a toy, however, once the paling dragon's shock receded, royal blue and ridged with an upward curve to its length. On a male, it would have been an impressive tool, something the female furs would have dropped to their knees over. A tool that was pressed to his arse.

Thema trailed her short nails down his spine, a grin lighting up her muzzle.

"How long do you think it will take him to whimper, my friends?"

"What?" Makaidos yelped, finding his voice at last. "You can't do that! That's not fucking right!"

The gazelle slapped his rump, right where the brand had been seared into his flesh. Clenching his teeth together, Makaidos let loose a strangled cry, half sob, half scream.

"Be quiet, slave," Thema said, a steely edge to her tone.

Fuck them, Makaidos snarled mentally, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Fuck them all to hell and back again.

He cursed every slaver he had ever laid eyes on as Thema poured a noticeably generous helping of lube over the toy, pumping her paw along the shaft as if it really was a part of her body, a real cock. She dripped some over the dragon's clenching tail hole, which squeezed down as if he believed he could halt events by resisting hard enough. He could stop her! Thrashing against the bonds far, far too late, a frightened growl tore itself loose from his throat and he looked back fearfully, arms and legs up in the air and useless. Thema tapped a finger against the dragon-cock toy and peered down at him imperiously. In the low light, the toy glistened with moisture.

"Do not hold back your screams, slave."

The tip nudged beneath his raised tail and, despite his insistent tightening, pushed inside. Slow but insistent, Thema gripped the dragon's hips, patiently burying the full length into his tail hole so that he felt every little ridge and bump on the shaft against his anal ring. She could not help but smile as he squirmed. Gritting his teeth, Makaidos threw his head back, fighting the ache that threatened to overcome him, burning at his insides. He did not know how large the toy was - he was hardly in a position to whip out a ruler and take measurements! - and the ridges, oh, the ridges... The dragon shuddered, a ripple running through his body from his nose to the tip of his tail. Teeth ground together as the toy became wider at the base, stretching him further, and Thema's hips pressed to his branded rear. Makaidos lowered his head, eyes burning. It was too large for him, much, much too large, but he would not give her the satisfaction of him making a noise.

"I'm impressed." The gazelle's voice was low, seductive, drawing him back to reality. "Let us see how you take a real cock. Put on a good show for us, little dragon. Squirm for us."

He would not. Resolute, Makaidos closed his eyes, blocking out the world around him, which was easier said than done with several aroused males commenting on how well he took a cock. The okapi said he wanted a turn next, only to be shushed by Anoki, who watched intently, holding a small, portable film recorder, capturing every moment of the dragon's humiliation. Makaidos shook himself. No, he could not think of them, that was wrong. He had to think of himself, ignore them, ignore Thema, his mistress. Yet, as the gazelle's hips thrust and ground like that of a male - oh, he remembered his first roll in the hay with a slave filly - his body responded, electric pleasure crackling through his body. The gazelle scraped her nails down his back and he arched into her touch, the lines of fire a burning compliment to the stretch in his tail hole.

"Little slut..."

Makaidos opened his muzzle to retort - that comment could not go unanswered - but the start of his utterance was cut rudely short by the sharp slap of Thema's hips against his arse. Instead of words, a shrill cry passed his lips and he ducked his head so she would not see him crack: he would never let her see him break. His muzzle pressed into the padding on the sun lounger as she picked up the past, grunting softly with the exertion it took to pound his arse, driving in and out of him like. Maybe there was something on the interior of the harness that gave her pleasure? He had seen that before. Makaidos gasped as she thrust particularly deep, grinding against a spot that felt especially...good. No, no - he had to ignore it. At least the sun lounger was soft. Rubbing his muzzle into the fabric, he pretended that there were not tears running down his cheeks as his sore tail hole was abused. He pretended he was somewhere else, somewhere far, far away. He pretended he did not have a hard-on.

The dragon closed his eyes. What was wrong with him? The toy drove deep into his rear, tail twitching to tug against the collar and connecting chain. For fuck's sake, he was being raped! Why the fuck did it have to feel so good? Why did his body have to react? His dragonhood ground between his belly and the furniture, leaving sticky trails of pre-cum. The only blessing in his arousal was that, considering his position, there was no way for Thema to realise the effect she had on him. He snapped his jaws sharply together, drawing glances that he could not find the will to care about.

"Feisty one, isn't he?" The okapi, Jared, commented dryly, stepping close to Makaidos as he stroked his own pink, fleshy member. "Look how he wriggles and arches. Think he'll look good on film, Anoki?"

"Ask me again later," Anoki flashed a grin, bare from the waist down but concentrating on the recorder in his paw. "I'll have to review the footage."

"Wouldn't want some company now, would you?" Jared closed a paw around the bear's semi-hard shaft as the ursine groaned and their companions laughed. "I'm sure I could lighten up any dull parts for you."

Makaidos felt a flash of angry, furious that they treated his defilement so. He was important. He was a dragon. He was not 'just' a slave and they should fucking know that! He tensed as Thema pushed over him, resting her weight on one, dainty paw as her hips picked up speed, driving into his like a wild animal in rutting season. Panting open-mouthed, he forgot his audience and whined, wriggling in such a way that he imagined pushing back into the thrusts. He was almost getting used to the pounding. Maybe if he pretended to give in, it would be over more swiftly? The seat was damp beneath his muzzle and his member was painfully hard.

He was shocked when Thema suddenly pulled back, sliding the toy from his decidedly sore tail hole with a slick, wet sound. _Disgusting._For a moment, he was relieved that it was over - perhaps they had done all they intended to? - and then realised that he ached for something more, arousal searing through his veins like potent liquor, colouring his judgement. So suddenly devoid of pleasure, he growled, bucking his hips as much as he could in the hogtie to grind into the padded lounger. It wasn't enough!

Thema laughed, wiping the toy off on his scales.

"Oh, you did not believe you would have release now, did you, slave?" Thema patted his head firmly between the horns like she would a pet. "You must earn that."

"I do not expect that...mistress," Makaidos said stiffly. "And I am not turned on either, so I do not need a 'release'."

The gazelle nodded, stifling her laughter even as her dancing eyes betrayed her: it was not fitting.

"Why would you not, slave?" Her lips twitched in a smirk. "You were aroused. Perhaps you are a little tail-raiser after all? I wonder if we may experiment with this notion? Anoki could always do with some more footage. Couldn't you, dear?"

The bear nodded, finding words difficult with Jared's paw wrapped around his cock. The unicorn and alligator sat together on another sun lounger, Keenan in Imaran's lap, leonine tail curled around his partner's thicker, more masculine waist.

"I did bring Salem with me," Anoki said with some trouble, hips thrusting lightly. "I know you do not wish him broken in by a male yet, though you may be interested in this for your training. I would obtain some excellent footage too."

Makaidos' heart pounded. Broken in by a male? At least it was 'not yet'. That was some relief. Dropping his muzzle to the seat, he exhaled heavily, wings rustling within their bonds as he listened intently.

"Salem..." Thema rolled the word around her mouth. "What a traditional name. Pretty of course. Is he mature?"

"Oh, yes," Anoki grinned. "I had planned to use him in films myself, but I am more than happy to give him a test run tonight. This dragon will go very well in...well, we have spoken earlier. This would be for a negotiated fee, of course. I would not have it any other way, my dear."

Makaidos shook his head imperceptibly, lost without a shard of context.

"You would not dare short me," Thema smiled a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Have Salem sent for. I trust he is in the kennels?"

Kennels?

"Yes," Anoki nodded, beckoning to whichever slave was nearest - he did not actually turn his head to look. "Fetch us Salem."

One of the lupine slaves with a coat as white as freshly fallen slow darted off on light paws to retrieve the 'Salem'...whatever that was. Makaidos shifted, filtering through the information he had received, trying to make sense of it as his limbs ached. Dragons were not meant to be in bondage for so long. Kennels, what was a 'Salem' doing at the kennels? Maybe Salem was a slave that the foursome had brought with them. Unless... The cogs turned in his head and he gulped, hoping he was wrong. Oh, he so hoped. It would fit with how he had been treated, but he had never so wished that he was so wrong.

Oh no...

Makaidos' head shot back. They wouldn't fool him a second time.

Slyly, he tested the limits of his bonds, shuffling limbs and wings until his muscles ached. The chains were new and shiny, clinking as he moved, but he was not paid attention to - not that that helped. The most he could do was wriggle his tail slightly within the cuffs. If he had enough time, he could ease it out entirely. Growling, he pressed his muzzle into the sun lounger one again, trying to forget the ache in his tail hole, the murmur of excited conversation and the tap, tap, tap of short nails on the deck. He ground his teeth together and yelped as a moist nose thrust rudely beneath his tail, hot breath washing over the backs of his thighs and exposed rump.

"He's grown!" Jared exclaimed, cradling a beverage in two paws as Anoki beamed proudly.

"He's been well looked after," the bear smiled.

"What breed does he fall under?" Thema looked the canine, for he was a dog in basic shape, over critically. "I can't imagine one of the new strains, yet he appears more...traditional."

"A German Shepherd," Anoki clarified, chuckling as his pet covered the squirming dragon's rump and anal ring with sloppy licks, a red tip showing beneath his belly. "Specialist breeding programme to get some back to their roots, get the strength back in them. Bit different with the black."

Makaidos gasped open-mouthed, his hard-on achingly fierce. A dog? That's what it was? He could crane his head around as much as he liked but all he could see was a large black shape with lots of fur and an admittedly wagging tail.

"I think he likes your dragon," Keenan grinned, more interested in what was happening than the others, caught up in specifics.

Thema waved her paw.

"Let them become acquainted with one another," she said. "Salem will see plenty more of my slave if he is pleasing."

Makaidos whined and opened his muzzle to protest, but the dog's tongue lashed his tail hole, drawing a moan from his muzzle instead. Unknown to him, the German Shepherd's erection swelled, red standing out in stark contrast to his jet black fur. Jared even squatted down for a better look, whistling appreciatively under his breath. The dragon whimpered as the canine's tongue dug into his tail hole, insistent on gaining entry. But the dog was too eager to waste more time on foreplay. With Makaidos' tail in the air and the anthro 'presenting', he could only be seen as a breeding bitch to the dog, just like all those other two-leggers that raised their tails for him while the lights flashed. That was a recent development but one that the German Shepherd enjoyed. He got to seed many. Makaidos' breath caught as the dog mounted, paws scrabbling for purchase against his hips and waist. And, while his body reacted, his mind screamed.

No! He would not! With as much strength as he could muster, he jerked violently, rocking the lounger on to two legs. Salem yelped and dug his short nails into Makaidos' scales, growling dangerously to warn his bitch to stay still. Somewhere to his left, a fur gasped, and Makaidos had thought he'd gotten away with it, the dog's cock jabbing uselessly against his thighs, drooling slick pre cum. He did not care - it was better than being fucked. Perhaps the dog would not be able to enter him at all? Hope blossomed in his chest.

And then he heard the paw steps as the sun lounger rocked dangerously, the dog thrusting it forward with his frenzied movements. Almost there, but not quite. Anoki, the perpetrator of the heavy steps, huffed, recorder in paw, and planted a heavy hind paw between Makaidos' shoulder blades, pinning him in place under his weight and allowing the dog the few seconds he needed to ram his shaft into the dragon's well lubricated and stretched tail hole.

Makaidos howled. It did not hurt - hell, the dog's cock was smaller and smoother than the toy his mistress had used on him - but it was humiliating. All those eyes on him, watching his violation. Recording it! The dog drove into him like a jackhammer, that thing he had seen lower labour slaves using on the streets when the slave chain marched past, pounding in and out with a force that he doubted any anthro would be able to rival. Salem panted heavily as he pounded, taking his pleasure and breeding like the animal he was. Was it the dog's first breeding? Was this what they kept him for? Fucking slaves? The dragon hid his muzzle, cheeks burning. The furs around him commented, the little light on the recording device blinking, letting him know that, yes, every moment was being documented. Makaidos' breath came in short, shallow gasps, the reality of his situation crashing over him. No, no, he had to stay calm, he had to retain himself. Above him, Salem nipped at his upper back and neck, sliding that smooth shaft deep into his tail hole.

He quickly realised that canines had one trait that the toy under his tail had not possessed. As the dog grew closer to raw, animalistic release, the dragon rocked into the soft seat, staining the fine fabric with pre cum and sweat. The soft fur against his back was a far cry from the swollen knot demanding entry to his tail hole and it was with a shuddering grunt that Salem pushed the knot into his bitch, letting it swell to its full size and seal them together. Stretched further than the toy, Makaidos groaned with every one of the dog's shorter, deeper thrusts until the dog rumbled contently in orgasm, hot cum filling the dragon's tail hole. Not a drop would leak out, however, while that knot held them together and Makaidos felt it trickling deeper. The first male to push under his tail and it was a dog. An animal. He closed his eyes.

As if proud of himself, the German Shepherd barked once and swung his leg over Makaidos' back after a couple of failed attempts to stand rump to rump with his bitch. The dragon shivered as the dog's tail brushed over his raised one and looked up at Thema. The gazelle's eyes gleamed as she took in the sight and the dragon's still hard cock, visible when the dog pulled, raising her slave's hips from the seat for a brief second.

Her smile made him quiver and, if it had been possible, he would have physically shrank away. He could not bring himself to meet her eyes, instead focusing on the interlocking fibres of the fabric beneath his nose. He felt that he had become closely acquainted with it in the last however many minutes or hours it had been. It was almost an old friend. Glancing up, he gulped as Thema approached, a sensual sway to her hips.

Still smiling, Thema crouched before her pet, fingertips gently caressing his horns.

"Learn to enjoy it, slave," Thema whispered, cupping his muzzle almost tenderly in two paws. "You're going to learn to serve as you were born to do."