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There was a tension in the kingdom of Astronath that hadn't been there before. Quiet murmurs reigned the streets, and every so often, eyes would flicker nervously to the dragons standing proudly atop the Wall that protected their kingdom. People needed hope and reassurance. In all the years since the king had forged his contract with the dragons, there had never been anything that dared attack them.

Now, however... There were reports of forces converging on the horizon, just out of range of the kingdom's scryers and the dragons' sight. They had to be careful about sending out scouts, too; all indications were that there were mages amongst the enemy forces, considering the strange thrum of dark magic that seemed to hang in the air. There was no telling what would happen if a lone dragon was sent to approach.

Yet to send a large force all at once would be too much too fast. It was a difficult decision, and one that was being slowly deliberated upon - but nowhere near quickly enough for the people of Astronath, and understandably so. They were worried, and their worry showed.

Thorpe, however, had a different and far more pressing concern. Where most people were worried about the potential fall of the kingdom or the conflict they might soon be embroiled in, Thorpe couldn't quite take his mind off the fact that his promised dragon had not been seen for days. While it wasn't uncommon for a dragon to take some days off, Khalmeth had always informed him before leaving.

The dragon was his best friend, after all. He had reason to worry.

The knight fingered the sword that sheathed at his hip in a display of agitation. "But sir," he protested. "It's unusual for Khalmeth to go missing like this. We both know the type of dragon he is. He wouldn't just vanish on us, and the fact that we have this happening almost immediately after..."

Thorpe trailed off. He didn't need to continue; his commander, Alwyn by name, nodded with a sigh.

"I know, Thorpe," he said gently. "Something probably happened to him. But you know what's going on in the kingdom - we don't have the forces to spare to find out what happened to one dragon. We need to be prepared for whatever is rising against us."

"Then don't," Thorpe argued desperately. "We don't need a big force, we just need one person to track him down. Send me after Khalmeth. I'll find him."

Alwyn was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke, and there was a small, sad smile on his face. "Were you any other knight, I would not allow it. I cannot send a lone man against unknown forces and expect him to survive - but I know you, Thorpe, and you would go after Khalmeth whether or not I approved. Is that correct?"

"I -" Thorpe started to deny it, but stopped, hanging his head. "Yes, sir, I would. It's more important to me that he's safe."

"And of all the knights, you have the best chance of finding Khalmeth and maybe figuring out what's going on," Alwyn continued with a nod. "Therefore, I am making this order official - take whatever weapons and armour you need, and go seek out your friend. I expect you to return before the end of the week."

Thorpe's eyes widened. Access to the kingdom's armory wasn't given trivially; the statement might have sounded innocuous enough, but Alwyn meant for him to have access to the greatest of the enchanted armor and weapons in their possession.

"Thank you, sir." Thorpe's bow was relieved. He didn't have to commit treason just to search for his friend, and he was being approved to go looking for him to boot. "I won't disappoint you."

"See that you don't," Alwyn said, looking at Thorpe with a level gaze. Then he smiled faintly. "And take care."

Thorpe nodded, his fingers curling in a firm grip around his sword. "I will, sir."

---

Thorpe strode out of the city with a steeled heart and a determined gaze. The moment he was outside the thrum of magic that enveloped the city, he knelt, placing his fingers to the ground - and Called.

Calling was an ancient form of magic, only possible with a ritual performed between rider and dragon. Once performed, the link was irreversible - it was why most knights and dragons would wait until far into their partnership before even beginning to consider it.

The benefits, however, were considerable. It gave both knight and dragon a way to understand each other instinctively, without the need for communication or thought; at longer distances, it gave them the ability to Call to one another. Instantaneous communication, regardless of distance, powerful enough to break even the strongest of wards. It was something that was envy of mages and sorcerers, and one of the many reasons it was ill-advised to capture the draconic partner of a knight or vice versa.

Thorpe, however, had not been anticipating the possibility that Khalmeth would work together with Thamaxar to conceive of some sort of counter. He received no clear connection with his dragon, no instant relief at knowing his friend was alright - rather, what he got was a flood of emotion, intense and overpowering.

Lust. Desire. Passion. Glimpses of a dragon that was not his own, with dull purple scales rather than bright golden ones, a gaze full of hunger and greed, that demanded attention and servitude from all those lesser than it.

Thorpe fell forward with a gasp. He didn't comprehend the images in his mind, nor did he understand the surge of arousal that had followed it. The thoughts of allowing himself to submit to the dragon, of giving his smaller body up for the sake of his pleasure...

His cock was hard and throbbing within his armor, but his eyes were wide with surprise and confusion. "W-what..." he muttered. His eyes were glazed over, overwhelmed by his own magic and the counter-ward he had hit.

His hands fumbled with the enchanted armor before he realised what he was doing, pulling off the plated mail with an almost desperate frenzy. Metallic fingers wrapped around his shaft and he moaned with pleasure, with a need for release; his back arched against the sand as he fell backwards, stroking frantically, building up towards a climax -

But Thorpe tore himself back out of his magic with a surge of determination and willpower. It did nothing about his arousal, but the images and thoughts of submitting to a hedonistic power slowly left him. The knight was left panting, his thoughts a whirl of confusion. He should have been angry, perhaps, but all he could bring himself to feel was worry for Khalmeth.

What had happened to his friend?

For all that the magic had failed him, it had given him one decent lead - he had felt a source, a direction from which the reply had come. Even if Khalmeth himself could not be found, he had a better chance of finding answers there than he did anywhere else. With a grim look settling into his gaze, he fastened his armor, ignoring the way his cock throbbed and begged for attention and the surge of pleasure even the smallest touch offered him.

There were far more important things at stake here, and Thorpe had a mental fortitude far greater than his peers. He pushed aside his lust, his arousal, his need.

He had a friend to rescue, and answers to find.

---

Thorpe was close now.

Even if he hadn't had the lingering traces of magic to guide him and tell him where to go, he would have known it. The sky had begun to darken, a strange purple lightning flashing amongst the clouds in a way that stank of dark magic. The air almost seemed to sizzle with power.

Were it not for the enchanted armor that protected him, he had no doubt that the magic would have seeped slowly into his skin - and considering the flashes of emotion he had gotten earlier, he had a feeling he knew exactly what he would have become.

"Not likely," he said, his voice low and determined. He drew his sword, and moved forward. There seemed to be a sort of tower in the distance, hidden by magic; it faded in and out of his view. Even when it was visible, it was difficult to focus upon it; his eyes insisted on straying, on glancing to the earth or the sky instead. It was a powerful spell. Had he not known it was there, he might have wandered this area for hours and failed to find it.

But he did, and so he could approach.

Before he could arrive, however, he heard the flap of wings in the air behind him. They were gloriously familiar, and Thorpe's heart leapt with hope; he turned to regard his friend - only to stop, his eyes widening in understanding.

It was Khalmeth that stood before him - yet the once-proud dragon of noble gold and stature was no more. He was not reduced, not truly; the creature he had become was more bestial in nature, regarding him with a lecherous grin and a gleam of lust in his eyes. His cock had emerged beneath him, and each step he took towards Thorpe was carefully designed to show off his dragonhood; it swung proudly beneath feral creature.

"...Khalmeth," Thorpe greeted after a moment. The knight was at a loss for words, unsure what to say to his partner. To think that he had been corrupted to such a degree... He was horrified, but there was a strange part of him - a part he shoved away with a passion - that enjoyed the power that now thrummed through the body of his friend.

"Thorpe," the dragon returned, and the voice was a low, rumbling growl that somehow managed to be suggestive and sensual all at once. It sent a chill up Thorpe's spine that he didn't entirely understand, left his mouth a little too dry.

"I don't... what happened to you?" he managed, slowly approaching his partner. A gauntleted hand gently caressed the dull purple scales, and Khalmeth lowered himself to the ground with a shiver.

"Mm..." he purred, and Thorpe flinched back as he realised that even that slight touch was giving the dragon pleasure. Khalmeth's shaft ached between his legs, long and dripping. The dragon's tongue slipped out to caress his partner, and where the corrupted saliva touched enchanted metal, the metal seemed to steam and... melt, almost. "Does it really matter, Thorpe?"

"What- Of course it does!" Thorpe backed further away from the dragon he'd once called a friend, but Khalmeth only padded leisurely after him, as though he knew that there was no way the knight could get away. And there wasn't; if Khalmeth wanted to chase him down, there would be nothing he could do to escape. "Khal, listen, there are forces gathering around the kingdom-"

"I know," the dragon interrupted casually, flicking his tongue out to lick across his lips. "The master put them there."

"The master?" Thorpe frowned, his hand once more tightening on his sword. He couldn't draw it, couldn't even think about hurting Khalmeth; it was one of the effects of the ritual they had cast to link the two together... but he still felt safer with the sword, and there was evidently someone else behind this.

A monster who had turned his friend.

"Tell me who this master of yours is," the knight said quietly. There was an undercurrent of fierce anger in his voice, protectiveness for the dragon.

"You will meet him, soon enough," Khalmeth said, laying lazily down on the ground. His tail curled around his body to tease at his own shaft, and he stretched in a very deliberate, powerful movement. Thorpe had seen it all before, but there was something about the way the sleek muscles shifted underneath the purple scales, the way the dragon presented himself to him... "Just as soon as you serve me."

Thorpe looked up in shock, eyes narrowing. "And why would I do that?"

"Just look at me," Khalmeth responded, gesturing to his own body with a lazy sweep of his wing. "Am I not a magnificent example of a dragon? The master was quite enamored with my body, I assure you... We had quite the entertaining night." The dragon shivered slightly at the memory, his tail stroking gently along his length. "Pity you could not join us. If only you had come earlier..."

Thorpe stared for a moment, unable to take his eyes away from the dragon. He'd always known that his partner was handsome for a dragon, but the noble looks had been taken away, replaced by a bestial, primal hunger.

Yet he couldn't help but stare as the purple flares from the lightning reflected off of the dragon's scales, gleaming and glittering in a fashion that was almost mesmerizing. Khalmeth was right; he was a magnificent example of a dragon, powerful and deadly in all the right ways.

But that meant nothing.

"It matters not what I think." Thorpe's reply was short and curt, his anger focusing his will into a blade of sharpened steel. "You are not yourself, and your master will atone for what he has done to you."

The knight turned on his heel, then, striding towards the tower. Khalmeth seemed preoccupied enough that he wouldn't interfere, perhaps.

Of course, that was far too much to hope for.

That familiar flap of wings accompanied a cloud of dust and sand, leaving the knight coughing, momentarily blinded. He managed to open his eyes just in time to widen them as Khalmeth landed just above him; a massive, draconic shaft knocked him back into the ground and pinned him in place. Thorpe struggled, of course, tried to push away - but his movements only seemed to serve to please his captor.

"Yessss," Khalmeth hissed, his back arching and his tail curling as a shiver ran through his body. "Keep moving, my knight..."

"Khalmeth!" Thorpe's voice was muffled, perhaps, but the dragon would be able to hear him. he always did. "What are you doing?! You know this isn't right!"

"On the contrary," the dragon countered, pushing the knight further into the sand. "This is my right. A dragon like myself deserves someone to please them, don't you agree?"

"No!" Thorpe struggled, but it only made precum leak out of Khalmeth's shaft as he rumbled above him. "This is absurd, Khal, just let me go-"

The knight was silenced, however, as Khalmeth Called him.

The rush of sensation and emotion was intense; Thorpe would have staggered, had he been standing. Instead, his eyes glowed with a weak purple light as memories and thoughts from his partner filtered over to him through their connection. He tried to reach out, to close it off, but such a connection had never been designed to be turned off. The partners involved were meant to never betray each other; it was why it was such an act of trust...

The people who had conceived the ritual had presumably never considered a darker form of magic taking over the bond. That was what was happening down; lust and arousal coursed down through their connection, making Thorpe gasp and arch his back up against Khalmeth's cock.

That, in turn, filtered back to him - he felt his own body, pressed against the dragon's shaft, felt each shock of pleasure as the sensitive flesh slid over hardened metal. He let out a moan, involuntary and unwilling, and Khalmeth's smirked.

"Feels good, does it not?" The dragon's voice was low, teasing. It was both physical speech and mental thought, a combination of everything the knight thought to use to resist. Thorpe groaned as it overwhelmed him, feeling his cock achingly hard in his armor, throbbing and aching.

He felt pride in his body, saw beauty in his own developed muscle and grace in his movements. It made him want to show it off, to display it for all to see - but there was something wrong with it. It was too human, too plain; it lacked the underlying beauty of a feral and primal will.

And Thorpe knew how to correct that problem, the knowledge fed to him through the Call. The dragon had been so thoroughly corrupted that his seed, in turn, carried corruptive properties; if he could draw the dragon to an orgasm, he would own a body he would be proud to call his own, could revel in pleasure and debauchery. He would be able to abandon his old identity for a life filled with pleasure...

But Thorpe would not have made it so far without an indomitable willpower, and it showed in the way he forced the thoughts from his mind, gasping and panting. "Khal-" His voice was hoarse, and he realised he'd been moaning, shouting the dragon's name. "Stop this!"

"Why?" Khalmeth shook his head, nudging his cock against the knight. It slowly slid along his body, making Thorpe gasp; though he was protected by the armor, their connection meant he felt the surge of pleasure as it tore through the dragon. "We both enjoy it, do we not?"

"No!" Thorpe yelped as their connection flared; he couldn't lie to his partner with it in place, and the truth was that his body enjoyed the carnal pleasures it was experiencing. "I-I mean, yes, but..."

"But?" Khalmeth purred. "Surely it would not harm you simply to indulge an old friend? There is little you can do to hurt me, and I will not let you past me until I am satisfied."

"I-" Thorpe paused, shivering, his cock aching in his suit. He wanted desperately to accept; his mind was confused, overwhelmed with the pleasure he felt from Khalmeth. However much he wanted to deny it, he was enjoying this on some level. To be so completely dominated by a beast of such strength...

He shook his head. When he responded, it was a little weaker, with less conviction in its tone. "I know what magic you hold in your seed, Khal."

"You can simply avoid it," Khalmeth chuckled. He liked the feel of the human pressed up against his cock; once the master had spoken to Thorpe, he was sure, he'd be feeling something like it much more. Or perhaps Thorpe too would be transformed, would gain a more bestial look of his own...

He rather liked the thought.

"I will not be offended," he added, his tone teasing. Thorpe hesitated.

Khalmeth was right. There was little he could do to fight the dragon off; a human knight could not fight a dragon on his own, no matter what the legends said. It was always a team that managed to beat them back until the alliance had been formed. He could try to run for it, but Khalmeth was faster and stronger. He could use their bond against the dragon, but...

Well, the bond backfired on him more than it did Khalmeth, so that was off the table.

Perhaps he should just give in. Enjoy it, for the moment; once Khalmeth as satisfied, he would be able to move on, to face the mastermind behind all of this and settle the matter once and for all.

Thorpe swallowed slowly, his voice thick as he responded. "Fine," he said. "Let's make it quick."

"No," Khalmeth's tone was teasing. "Let's make it slow."

Thorpe didn't get a chance to respond. Khalmeth opened up the connection between them, and this time the knight didn't fight it. He allowed their connection to suffuse his mind instead.

Without Thorpe fighting against it, the magic was surprisingly gentle. It didn't quite overwhelm him - it simply connected him with Khalmeth the same way it always did, except this time Khalmeth was... different. Twisted. His priorities and beliefs and pride had been corrupted into something more of a more primal nature.

And Thorpe felt it too, through his connection with the dragon. He felt the call of instinct, the call to breed and to lose himself to lust and decadence. If something felt good, why not simply give in to it? This encounter was of no particular harm to anyone; he was making an old friend feel good, after all...

Without him quite realising it, the enchantment on his armor changed. Gone were the protective charms; they were based off his strength of mind, and his mind had given in - no matter that there was a small part of Thorpe that continued to resist and hold on.

Thorpe gasped as he felt something warm and slimy pressing against his body. He could feel it now - the grit of sand against his back, the hot shaft pressing against him, his own manhood hard and erect and pressing against the dragon's in a display of intimacy he'd never thought he'd experience.

The knight looked down, thinking for a moment that his armor had vanished - but it was still in place; the only changes was that the polished silver had turned into a tarnished black. The dragon growled softly against him, feeling everything he was feeling; Khalmeth thrust up against him so that the tip of his cock pushed up the visor on the knight's helmet, and Thorpe groaned as precum leaked in against his face.

He licked it up instinctively, feeling a strange warmth spread through his body as he did so. The knight knew he should have been disgusted, should have been worried, but... he didn't care. He wanted more. "K-Khal, what... what did you do?"

The dragon gave a low, rumbling chuckle. "You agreed to satisfy me, did you not? I feel all your pleasure, and you feel all of mine."

"N... Not that," Thorpe managed, shaking his head. He tried to focus, but he was getting increasingly breathless as heat suffused his being. He saw flashes of a dark, corrupted version of himself, twisted the same way Khalmeth had been - a demonic creature that lived only to sate its lust.

The worst part was that a part of him liked it - _wanted _it.

"What, you being able to feel me?" Khalmeth laughed, teasingly dragging his cock against his partner. "That's nothing special. You already had magic in your armor, I just made it a part of you."

"...Part... of me?" Thorpe didn't quite comprehend it, not until he tried to move his fingers and saw the joints on his gauntlet bend and click more than they should have been able to. He couldn't quite feel his flesh, he realised; instead, he felt each brush of air against the metal.

The knight felt like he should have been worried, but... he couldn't bring himself to care.

Thorpe brought his arms around the dragon's shaft instead, nuzzling into the tip, and Khalmeth let out an approving growl. "Seems you're getting into it," the dragon chuckled.

Thorpe's reply was muffled, but there was a husky lust in it as the knight gave in to his desires - a certain hunger that had only been with the dragon before. "As you said, I have no way of getting past you unless I satisfy you." His hands traced the tremendous shaft before him, stroking and patting along the length, licking up every drop of precum that made its way into his helmet.

It tasted good, he couldn't deny that. He couldn't deny the shivers of warmth it sent through his body, the way his cock throbbed and ached at the very taste, the primal desire that flooded through him at its scent.

"So why not give it my all?" Thorpe's face might not have been visible, but there was a dark gleam in his eyes. Khalmeth could feel the smirk on his face as his fingers traced his shaft, and he let out groan of approval.

"That's right, my knight," the dragon groaned. His thrusts became harder, faster, pushing Thorpe back into the sand - but the knight took on Khalmeth's lust and arousal, shared it with the other male. His back arched, his cock sliding and slipping against the dragon's, surrounded by that throbbing warmth and slick draconic pre...

And they both felt it. Thorpe felt as though he were large and brutish and powerful, as though he had a body that should be worshipped as was its right. He felt as though he was simply using a smaller creature as a toy for his pleasure, something to rut against until he came, drawing it into the same corrupted abyss he was in.

Khalmeth, on the other hand, shared in Thorpe's feelings - the feeling of being utterly dominated by a creature far larger and more powerful than your own, whose entire form was defined by sleek muscle and graceful flight. He reveled in the thought of pleasuring such a creature, of offering his body and self just to bring them to a climax.

It was through this nexus of the pleasure that the two of them came. Thorpe forgot entirely about avoiding the dragon's semen; Khalmeth roared his pleasure and drew back, his seed spurting out and onto the knight, marking him. Though Thorpe should have tried to roll out of the way,anything, he shuddered in his own orgasm instead; his hands came up to rub at the metal of his crotch, somehow feeling like he was grabbing on to his cock -

And as the dragon's seed struck him, he was. He changed, metal fusing with his body to become plated skin; the dark colors was no longer some external shell, but a part of his being. The metal shifted around the cock that throbbed and ached inside his armor, encasing it and becoming a part of it - melting to become something that was more malleable, more flexible.

The metal itself shifted as it blended with him, incorporating his new, partially corrupted nature into its form. The plated skin blended with defined muscle, both protecting his body and enhancing his strength; it formed layers over itself to allow for greater flexibility, twisted metal and flesh together.

Khalmeth roared his pleasure as his knight changed below him. His orgasm could not complete the corruption, he knew; Thamaxar was the only one capable of that - but it was still arousing, watching the knight's back hunch and his face twist, his muscles expand under the newly armored skin.

Thorpe barely seemed to notice his transformation. His hands - now claws, really - gripped around his newly thick shaft, stroking the length feverishly, desperately. Each stroke drew another batch of dark cum out of him, a faint, magical taint visible in his seed. Yet he didn't stop. The knight groaned, arching his back, squirming into the sand, almost thrashing about - but he wanted the pleasure, needed the pleasure.

More.

It was a minute before the knight was able to calm himself down, frenzied stroking becoming a more lazy sort of tease. He ran his fingers along his cock, breathing heavily, seeming almost fascinated by his new form. He was semi-hard even now, his cock already leaking precum, and Thorpe had a sneaking suspicion that wouldn't change.

"You're ready to go see the master, now." Khalmeth grinned at him. Thorpe returned a dark grin of his own, though his two sides warred between him.

Khalmeth hadn't quite been able to completely turn him. The knight had willpower in spades, and through the pleasure, he kept a certain part of him locked away - the part that valued the kingdom and his friend, and would do anything to save both.

It was the demon that walked towards the tower, slowly stroking himself and leaving behind a trail of precum - but it was Thorpe that remembered to carry his sword with him, though he barely seemed to notice the weapon sheathed at his hip.