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Staying in the shadows, the agent of the Ash Legion followed the Iron Legion Legionnaire with a constant smile on his face. After a very unusual morning inspection on his own Warband, the charr had gone back to his quarters to 'dress up' for his regular breakfast with the other higher Iron Legion officers. In this case, thanks to the Ash Legion agent's special charms, 'dressing up' meant that the charr went from walking around completely and utterly naked to wearing a loincloth hanging from his waist that barely even covered anything anyway. At least all the 'excitement' that came from the very hexed inspection had gone down on the Iron Legion fool… for now.

Jumping from shadow to shadow, the sneaky charr followed the other charr all the way to the room inside their barracks where the officers had their breakfast. Arriving there, he grinned. The Ash agent looked up to see all the hexing charms he had hung there still intact as well. Being unable to notice them was part of what the hex did, after all. But that wasn't all of it. Not by a long shot.

The agent stuck to the shadows, his own paw reaching under his robes and his fangs on display from how large his grin of amusement was. In silence, he just watched the show…

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Legionnaire Ripaxe adjusted his loincloth and took a deep breath before walking in. He put on a strong face, kept good posture and let his ears and tail display his dominance. Around his Warband he didn't have to work so hard for it. They knew who the damned boss was. This bunch of cocky Iron Legion Legionnaires were his equals, however, or at least their ranks made them feel like they were.

The bunch of jerks each had their own Warband to take care of and, as per their routine, every morning they got together to have a Legionnaire level breakfast, which was quite a notch above the breakfast that regular grunts had, and while doing so, they decided which Warband got to do what for that day.

As Ripaxe walked in, he saw that the other three Legionnaires were already there. They all sat on chairs around a single circular and still empty table wearing nothing but loincloths just like Ripaxe. Their chatter and prattle were loud, the charr talking and growling at each other with their particularly rough voices.

"Ah, if it isn't little Ripaxe!" one of them said, turning towards him as he approached. Farstrike was the Legionnaire of the Strike Warband. A bulky, tall charr with spiked horns and a complete prick. Ripaxe just gave the bastard a growl.

"If you're thinking of something little, maybe you meant your own fucking cock?" Ripaxe retorted angrily. He was not in the mood to deal with those fuckers. His insult throwback only caused laughter from all three of the other Legionnaires, though. They were definitely in a better mood than he was. Grunting with annoyance, Ripaxe took his seat in the only vacant chair.

"Feisty, huh?" another of the Legionnaires commented. Wildgrowl was of the Wild Warband and, while the bulky charr had respectable skills with a gun, the fucker might as well be Blood Legion instead of Iron for relying so much on dumb strength rather than proper technology as those brutes did.

"He's still sore over gettin' scrap duty for his Warband yesterday," the last Legionnaire around the table said. was of the Gear Warband, a respectful one with plenty of achievements under their belt, but that had made them, and their Legionnaire more than all of them, particularly cocky and insufferable.

"Shut up," Ripaxe quickly growled back at all of them. "Today will be different. Where the hell is the food?"

As if on cue, the side door opened so that the cook could bring a large plate containing a bunch of forks and the day's breakfast: a large cut of red meat prepared rare. It looked succulent and smelled just as much. As soon as he put his eyes over the nice-looking meat, Ripaxe realized how hungry he actually was after going through the inspection of his whole Warband. He also had a weird, lingering taste on his muzzle that he couldn't quite place, but he would be very happy to get rid of it by replacing it with finely seasoned meat juices.

The meat was placed on the table and all four Legionnaires approached with their eyes on it. The servant left the room promptly and, while Ripaxe was eager to reach for a fork and dig in, he knew they had business to deal with before eating.

"So," Wildgrowl said with an annoying grin plastered all over his snout, "we decidin' today's duties like we always do? With a contest?"

"Fine by me," the Gear Legionnaire quickly said, pulling his loincloth aside to reveal his hardening length. Ripaxe glanced down at it and, for a split second, his mind thought that there might be something wrong with a charr doing that. Or even wearing nothing but a loincloth in the first place! ...But a glimmer in his eyes erased that thought. No, it was normal… right?

"If you want to forfeit and accept the boring scrap duty for your Warband today right away, little Ripaxe, we'll understand. You can save yourself the embarrassment of losing again like yesterday."

The comment drew Ripaxe's attention towards the despicable charr that had said it. He growled at Wildgrowl right away, showing his teeth. All of his thoughts that what they were doing might be wrong in some way left him. They held the same little contest every day and there was nothing more normal amidst charr than deciding something based on a contest of strength, after all. Or, in this case, endurance, but in the end it all just meant that best and strongest charr came out on top, as it should be. And today it would be Ripaxe, he told himself.

"You're gonna eat those words, you cur," Ripaxe growled, pulling his own loincloth aside and grabbing his own dick. He started stroking it and, with ease, it started hardening right away. "Same contest as always, right?"

"Right," Wildgrowl confirmed still with an obnoxiously cocky expression. The other Legionnaires nodded and grunted in agreement. Soon, all four of them had their loincloths pulled aside to reveal their hardening cocks as their own paws worked over them. As Ripaxe worked on getting himself to full erection he could swear he caught the sight of a shadow from the corner of his eye for a moment. He looked at it and he thought he saw a… smile? When he blinked, however, his mind drifted away from that. There was nothing there, of course, no one standing at the corner of the room watching their contest. Ripaxe growled to himself. He needed to focus or else he would lose to those bastards… like he had lost the day before.

When all four Legionnaires were rock hard, they all stood up and approached the small table with the meat sitting in the center. They looked at each other and, though sometimes their eyes flickered for just a moment in what might have looked like a shocked expression in realization that something was wrong, whenever that happened their minds quickly moved away from such thoughts. No, everything was okay. It was normal. It was just their morning contest to see who got what duty.

No words were required between them, for they had done that too many times already. They all grabbed their hard cocks and pointed them towards their breakfast. Ripaxe used his other paw to support himself on the table, leaning forward so that his dick sat right over the meat like the others. All four charr looked at each other with determined eyes.

"Ready. Set… Start!" Wildgrowl called and, as soon as he said the word, all four charr started moving their paws to jerk off as fast as they could.

The room was filled with growling and grunting as all four Legionnaires pumped their dicks. Ripaxe himself felt a strange relief in the act of masturbating. It felt like he hadn't done that in so long! Even though he was sure that he had done it… hmm… when was the last time he had done it? Yesterday morning for sure while holding the same context, except he had lost, which meant…

"Focus!" Ripaxe thought, growling again. He let his paw work over his dick with strength and precision. The feeling of his hand gliding over his cock, stimulating it, made him huff with pleasure. A droplet of precum came from the tip of his cock and, with his fast jerking, flew off to land right over the meat of their breakfast that sat right under their dicks. Ripaxe felt proud of that, but when he looked around, he saw the focused faces of the other three Legionnaires as well…

Wildgrowl was working his cock faster than anyone else. He was quite well-endowed and, when he pumped himself hard enough, the tip of his cock sometimes even touched the meat as it flopped over it. The other two Iron Legionnaires looked just as focused on their work with precum starting to come to mark the meat just as Ripaxe had. A groan from his side made Ripaxe feel worried that he was focusing too much on them and not enough on himself.

The charr closed his eyes and tried to tune them out. Ripaxe tried to focus only on the sensation of his paw over his dick. He used his fingers to tease the head of his cock, he took a little time to press against the little sensitive barbs surrounding his cockhead. The pleasure was genuine. He felt it working to some extent, the edge of a perfect orgasm building up. Soon he would be able to shoot and that meant he would-

"Hnnngh… YEEEEAH!" A voice roared by his side. Ripaxe's concentration was broken and he opened his eyes to see Wildgrowl savagely tugging at his dick as it erupted in thick jets of cum. The charr kept growling and going as far as humping his own paw as he cummed. One by one, each load of heavy spunk fell over their breakfast meat, adding a thick coat of white to the perfect-looking meal sitting on the table. The Legionnaire kept pumping his cock to the last of his orgasm until it spurted nothing but little droplets of cum, milking all that he had over the meat.

"Learn how it's done, you weak cubs! I WIN!" Wildgrowl boasted. He pulled his loincloth from his waist, throwing it aside to stand completely naked not caring at all if his spent cock still pulsed and dribbled a little cum, then he sat back. "My Warband and I will take hunting duty today! Suckers!"

Ripaxe growled and so did the remaining three Legionnaires. Hunting duty was the best one by far! With his claws digging into the table's wood, Ripaxe returned to his duty of jerking off as fast as he could. He tried to regain his concentration, to feel the pleasure of his paw again, but it wasn't long before another moan filled the room.

The second Legionnaire's orgasm was no different than the first. Gearbrazen moaned out loud with pride as his cock also shot rope after rope of seed over the meat, then took his loincloth off and sat back happy. Why wouldn't he be? He'd get to choose the daily duty of his Warband second. Ripaxe slammed the table in frustration, then glared at the only other Legionnaire left: Farstrike.

The other charr met his gaze, but he looked confident. The bastard! Whichever one of them lost would get scrap duty, the most boring and shameful duty, and Ripaxe would not get that again!

"I'm almost there," Farstrike taunted. "Hope you enjoy diggin' through scrap again, mutt."

The anger he felt bubbling inside him made Ripaxe feel like letting go of his dick and instead punching the other Legionnaire straight on the muzzle. Or maybe on the balls. He couldn't do that, though, for it wouldn't be fair within their contest of endurance. Instead, he did his best to ignore his anger and the bastard's taunting and focus on his dick again. He only needed to work faster…

Ripaxe's paw was a blur over his own dick. He pumped it, teased it, jerked off with all he had. His own cock throbbed in his paw and his own precum made the motions slick as his paw moved back and forth over his dick with reckless abandon. He could feel his pleasure rising, his balls churning. He had been eager for this, he knew. The sweet pleasure of release! Ripaxe felt pent-up and finally, it was catching up to him. The edge of orgasm drew closer and closer, he could feel it coming. Ripaxe went as far as smiling and moaning out loud, the orgasm he needed coming, until-

"YEAH!" a shout came from his side. With panic, Ripaxe opened his eyes just in time to see a line of spunk flying in his direction. It hit him right on his abs, some of it even getting on his own cock, which made him frown in disgust and growl right away. Farstrike quickly moved his cock to where it should be, though, which was right over the meat so that the thick of his spunk could glaze the meat, joining the two other loads that had already been deposited over it with powerful pumps of new jizz.

Ripaxe let go of his cock even if it still pulsed with the need for orgasm. He had been SO close! The angry Legionnaire wiped the other charr's disgusting jizz off his fur with his ears folding down. The other two winners were laughing out loud again… and pointing at him.

"Looks like lil' Ripaxe's Warband is getting scrap duty again!" Wildgrowl laughed.

"Hah! Second loss in a row," Farstrike said while milking the last remnants of his orgasm over their breakfast. "Looks like you're getting soft!"

The little joke amused all three Legionnaires greatly, but Ripaxe only growled, averting his eyes in frustration. His cock still throbbed and he ached to reach down to it and finish the job since he was so close to cumming, but the unspoken rules of their contest were clear. The loser didn't get to cum. For a brief moment, Ripaxe's mind tried to make logic out of that and again it went to that place where everything seemed to be incredibly wrong, but as always, it automatically turned away from such thoughts. It was all normal.

Farstrike, however, took off his loincloth just like the others did, but to add insult to injury, he threw it right at Ripaxe's face.

"I'll take patrol duty!" he declared, "which means the Rip Warband is on scrap duty again! Too bad, Ripaxe!"

Ripaxe snarled at him. The other Legionnaire's loincloth hit him square on the snout and wrapped around his horn. The smell of his fellow Legionnaire's musk hit his nose right away and again, Ripaxe's mind went to the critical realization that that was very wrong. The realization was wiped out almost instantly again and, with it, the knowledge that he had a piece of loincloth stuck on his horn and sitting over his face. The lingering smell of musk hitting his nose felt annoying, but Ripaxe's hexed mind couldn't quite place where it was coming from. He simply frowned in disgust and ignored the fact that one of his eyes was covered, even.

With his cock still hard, throbbing and utterly unsatisfied, Ripaxe was forced to sit down as well. While the other three Legionnaires laughed among themselves, Ripaxe sulked with anger and frustration bubbling inside him. He took hold of a fork and reached for the meat, but another fork was quick to come to shove his away.

"Nuh-uh! You know the rules! Winners eat first, losers get the scraps!" Wildgrowl was happy to remind him. Ripaxe just grumbled and nodded, huffing in annoyance and then getting even more frustrated as the musky smell he couldn't place felt stronger. The charr was forced to wait while Wildgrowl reached forth to tear the best piece of meat from the top for himself.

The meat was covered with that strange sauce the cook always used. The white one. Wildgrowl's piece had a whole lot of it on top and it looked quite delicious. Ripaxe could see how the crude fucker was pretty much drooling as he brought the piece to his maw and ate it whole. As he chewed, however, Wildgrowl made a face and growled some as well.

"Bah! Too salty on the sauce, as always. Fucking cook!" The last words were yelled out loud towards the door so that the cook might hear it. Still, Wildgrowl chewed with strands of the white sauce drooling down from the sides of his muzzle. Salty or not, it didn't stop him from digging into the meat again and again. Gearbrazen followed suit, also taking in a lot of the sauce in each piece and complaining about it being too salty in the same way. Farstrike started a bit later and, when more than half of the meat was gone, only then did Ripaxe pick up his fork again to eat as well.

The meat was good, at least, and he had been hungry even if his member remained hard between his legs. It slowly cooled down, but the knowledge that he wasn't going to get any relief angered Ripaxe greatly. Nothing really stopped him from going to his room and jerking off as soon as the breakfast was over, but somehow in his mind, he knew he wasn't going to. He knew he was only going to get another opportunity to jerk off in tomorrow's contest and, with determination, Ripaxe was sure he was going to win THAT one. For fuck's sake, he would.

As Ripaxe chewed on the meat, he winced. The others were right, the sauce was too salty. It had a slimy texture to itself that felt pleasant on the tongue and the taste was almost… familiar. Ripaxe, left with the worst pieces of the meat, was forced to chew on the harder meat with more strength as well as use his fork to try and catch whatever was left of the sauce on the plate since the others had taken most of the best parts for themselves. He gathered all he could before shoving each piece on his muzzle and, each time, he winced at the taste again, but he kept eating. It was only natural.

Satisfied, Wildgrowl and Gearbrazen got up to leave first. They still threw a little more laughter and mockery Ripaxe's way before they gathered their loincloths, tied them around their waists again and left to announce the day's duties to their warbands.

Farstrike didn't take long to leave as well. When the other charr reached for Ripaxe and snagged the loincloth stuck on his horn, both he and Farstrike looked at each other with eyes widening for a moment. There was something wrong with having his loincloth over his horn and being naked together eating cum-glazed meat for breakfa…

No no, there was nothing wrong with it. It was just their breakfast duty selection. They both seemed to reach that realization again at the same time, because Farstrike just smirked down at Ripaxe and Ripaxe, in turn, growled at him and turned away. The other Legionnaire wrapped his loincloth around his waist and turned to leave, letting his tail slap Ripaxe on the face as he turned, which brought another angry growl from him.

"Better luck tomorrow, lil' Ripaxe!" he called before he left.

"Tomorrow you'll be on scrap duty! You'll SEE!" Ripaxe yelled after him, but the other charr ignored him. Alone in the breakfast room, Ripaxe ate the last pieces of meat making sure to gather all the sauce he could from the plate before chewing on it, then got up himself. His semi-hard cock was still tenting his loincloth, but he ignored it. The Legionnaire took a deep breath.

Scrap duty again. His Warband would be disappointed to hear that, but if they even dared complain he was ready to punch them into submission. Ripaxe was not in the mood to hear whining and complaining.

As he walked out of the room, he swore he could hear a chuckle coming from the corner, but when he looked at it he saw… nothing. There was nothing there. Ripaxe just grunted and left as well looking as unhappy as he was.

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Stepping out of the shadows, the Ash Legion agent couldn't help but grin. He saw the last Legionnaire leave the room and approached the table. The last remnants of cum could still be seen around the plate. His grin widened even further. The thought of those bastards eating their own spunk every morning without realizing pleased him more than he could even say. If only they realized what they were really doing… but the charms hanging around the room made sure they wouldn't. The agent stepped over the table to reach up to the hanging charms to inspect them and re-infuse them to keep them working properly.

As he worked, he went over the wonderful scenes he had seen on his mind. The idiot of a Legionnaire leaving the other's loincloth over his snout had been an unexpected side effect of his alterations, but a very pleasant one! Even as he worked on renewing the hexes on the charms, he laughed out loud as he remembered it.

When he finished, he wiped his paws and looked around. Soon someone would come to clean the place up and they could not find him there. Slipping back to the shadows of the corners of the room, the Ash Legion agent hummed to himself. He had a few other charms to arrange and maintain.