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Breaking Down Rebellion for Dexter by Draconicon

Dexter had lost count of how many days he'd been tied up in this strange dungeon. The lord of the land, a dragon who simply was known as The Black, had taken him for a toy and locked him up down here. All of the otter's complaints had rained on deaf ears, and when he continued shouting, they'd gagged him with a soft rod that had gone halfway down his throat until he agreed to shut up.

Since then, The Black had continued to use him for various...experiments. Chained to the wall as he was, Dexter could do nothing but take it, squatting there with his legs spread wide, supporting his weight with only the restraints on his wrists and what bit of his weight rested on his tiptoes.

He swore he'd been down there for weeks, but without windows, light, or anything to tell how time passed, he had no idea. All he knew was that he might have been happier in a cesspool.

A soft creak announced his jailor arriving. Dexter turned his head towards the massive wooden door as it opened, trying - and failing - to glare at the dragon as he stepped through.

"Hello, slut. I've been having a very good day. What about you?"

"Hellfire take you."

"Oh, it has. A good few times, actually; it tends to be very comfortable back there."

The dragon's laughter at his perverted joke made the otter grimace. But it wasn't just the dragon's humor that set his teeth on edge.

As his captor approached, Dexter got his first dose of the day - or at least of the visit - of the dragon's scent. All the scaly overlords had some sort of smell to them, some hint of rasping musk to their scales, but the dragons were the worst. It was thick and strong wherever they went, rolling off their scales like the sweat of a hard working donkey. Unlike a donkey, however, the dragons expected people to like the smell, and even crave it.

Dexter groaned as The Black approached him, the creature's trousers open at the crotch and a scaled shaft wagging back and forth. His jailor grabbed it, lifting it up so that the tip pointed down at the otter's face.

"Go on, slave. I know you want it."

"I don't."

"Don't pretend you don't like it. Look at you. Your body's already responding."

And that was what Dexter hated the most. He could feel his cock rising, swelling in response to the scent. It always did, ever since the fifth visit from The Black. He didn't want it, didn't need it, but his body had slowly been trained to start doing it.

The dragon slapped his face with the musk shaft, and Dexter winced from the impact.

"Smell it, slave. Smell it, and you'll get what you want."

"You're a monster."

"No, not really. A monster would have you no matter what you are. A monster wouldn't mold you to be something better. A monster wouldn't have you be perfect for your purpose."

"And what is my 'purpose', huh?"

"Heh, I'll tell you that later. Now smell."

The otter grumbled, looking away from the dragon's cock. Every so often, The Black swayed it from side to side, making it impossible to completely ignore. The smell was even more difficult to escape. He had to breathe, and even through his mouth he could taste the sharpness, the saltiness in the air. The dragon's shaft utterly stank of maleness, of scales, and of cum.

Dexter held out for as long as he could, but he knew that he needed what the dragon could give him. His cock throbbing and dripping onto the cobblestones of the dungeon, the otter finally turned his head.

"Just smell it?"

"Heh, for now. Next week, I might give you a new lesson."

Next week...next week of how many?

Shaking his head again, Dexter tried for another few minutes to ignore the scent in front of him, but it was impossible. He gave in, pressing his muzzle underneath the head of the shaft, breathing in.

It was far stronger up close, and he felt his cock jump in response. Against his will, his entire body followed it, as much as the bindings would allow. His tail twitched, but he made it stay still. The last thing Dexter was going to do was become a tailraiser for these assholes.

"Again."

Biting off every curse that he knew that begged to be shouted, the otter took another sniff. The potent musk filled his lungs, and he swore it was working on his mind as well. It felt like it consumed his thoughts like fire.

No more, he thought, shaking his head. He sucked in another breath through his mouth, and held it.

"Oh, you still think that you have a choice? Slave, you disappoint me. I thought you were finally learning your place."

Well, I'm not. So back off and give me a punishment already.

He almost craved one, something physical that wasn't being buried underneath a pile of musky clothing again. That one was what had broken him to getting erect every time he smelled them; now they just wanted him to be eager about it.

His lungs burned, but the dragon didn't pull away. If anything, The Black stepped closer, grinding his shaft all over the otter's face. Dexter groaned, still biting his lips to keep the air in, even as his fur started to glisten with the dragon's juices. He winced, closing his eyes, but that just made the smell worse, so he opened them again.

His chest hurt, his lungs almost empty. Whimpering, the otter looked up at the dragon, but there was no kindness there. Determination, curiosity, and lust, yes, but nothing approaching compassion.

He had no choice. He breathed out.

As soon as he took another breath, it was more than the musk that made him gasp. The dragon's foot, smooth and slick, stroked along his shaft. Dexter let out the first fraction of a moan before he silenced himself, but the dragon heard it.

"There, there, you see? It's not a bad thing to enjoy the musk of dragons. You should be honored to be exposed to so much of it. Most would simply be granted this if they were loyal servants; you're a criminal, and you're being treated to something they'd sell their lives for."

"You..."

He couldn't think of an insult vile enough to use against them. All he could think was of his hatred for them.

The dragon's foot moved again, and Dexter shuddered, his hips thrusting forward to drag his cock across that scaly sole. He was dripping so much, his cock throbbing so hard. With his hands and his tail restrained, there was no way he could get off, and none of the dragons had allowed him any pleasure. He had to sleep with a chastity cage on, and he had to spend the entire day with it off, so he could feel every twitching bit of need down there.

Unfortunately, the dragon took it away before he could get any closer. Even the relief of the dragon's musky shaft taken away from his face couldn't stop him from feeling more frustrated than ever, his body twitching and humping in little, inching thrusts. His desperation for relief was getting so strong.

"It seems that you are having a hard time acknowledging your place, slave. You know that your entire species has submitted to us. It is not a bad life, to be the subject of another."

"We weren't slaves. We were free."

"Oh yes, free to die, free to starve, free to burn in the jaws of hell." The dragon chuckled. "I've yet to see more than a few aberrations that don't admit that life is better now."

Dexter turned his head away, shaking it a few times. It might have been more difficult before, yes; the monsters and the portals to Hell had made life hard for everyone. And...yes, many people had died, but they'd been free to choose how to live, damn it.

"You can't just take away a person's life. Not like mine, and not like everyone else's."

"But we haven't taken life. We've given it. As well as food. As well as joy."

The dragon stepped over to him again, and the musk followed, Dexter's cock twitching, leaking in response.

"As well as pleasure."

The dragon's cock slipped along his lips, and he was given the rare 'treat' of both tasting and smelling the dragon's musk at the same time. The dragon's foot rubbed at him again, and Dexter had to fight with everything in him not to moan in response. It was so hard now, so very hard not to beg for more.

Back and forth that scaly shaft swayed, always leaving a little more juices behind. He felt it lathering up his lips, and he feared that The Black would slam it forward, taking him and using his mouth the way that several dragons had used his brothers. Gratitude towards them went a long way for many, and most simply shut up, allowing the dragons their fun in exchange for their safekeeping.

Despite the pressure on his lips, however, Dexter seemed to be safe. The Black pulled away, leaving the otter shaking in his restraints.

"I will leave you with something new tonight. Something to let you think on your situation."

The dragon lifted up two things, one of which was new, one which wasn't. The familiar item was a balled up bit of cloth, left wet with something he knew well. Dexter grimaced as his mouth was forced open, and the taste of dragon seed and musk filled his mouth. No matter how he adjusted it on his tongue, he could taste it running down his throat. A dozen or more must have used this thing for a cum-rag, at the volume he was getting, and the smell was inescapable.

The other, that he didn't recognize, looked like a hollowed out version of his own shaft. Dexter watched as the dragon lowered it, and as soon as it slid down his cock, the otter's eyes went wide. His hips bucked, thrusting up against it as it felt like a warm, tingling mouth all over his cock. He could cum! He could finally -

...Why wasn't he cumming?!

Dexter thrashed around in his bindings, thrusting his hips wildly as he desperately tried to hit his climax. Nothing he did brought him over, but merely intensified the need for it. He whimpered, gasping around the gag, and the dragon chuckled.

"A disobedient slave does not deserve a climax. I will see you later, when you've had time to think."

He shouted for the dragon to come back, begging through the gag for something, anything but this. But The Black never turned, and soon, Dexter was left in darkness as the strange tube continued to endlessly suckle and pleasure his needy shaft, with him constantly tasting and smelling that foul musk.

He cried, even as his cock throbbed harder than ever.

The End