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Coatl groaned, squatting over an improvised nest, comprised mostly of leaves and ferns gathered from the jungle. The sensation was indescribably alien, feeling an egg pass through his body. It wasn't painful, nor was it even unpleasant, but it was a stretching somewhere inside him where he'd never felt stretching before. That hidden womb that chaos had gifted to him, somewhere deep within. Initially he'd been worried, increasingly so, that the egg might naturally exit through his cock, but that wasn't the case. His vent, the same place other males would shoot their seed, was evidently doing it.

It'd all began with a cramp, and then a spontaneous and crushing orgasm that'd left Coatl on his knees, panting and groaning. It'd been enough to awaken even Tiacelel from his sexual trance, and the kroxigor had promptly picked up his smaller brother, carrying him to a corner on the outskirts of the city. He'd even quickly collected a pile of pillows and jungle leaves for Coatl to lay on as he laid his eggs. A strangely touching gesture, especially given the eggs weren't his, but one truly appreciated as Coatl would've struggled to as much as walk anywhere with the constant spasming in his stomach. Instead, he could focus on the laying, as weird and eerie as it felt.

Coatl dug his claws into the pillows as his entire body strained with exertion. The egg slipped into his slit from within. Thanking whatever gods listened to a corrupted being like himself that his cock remained soft, Coatl pushed as hard as he could, forcing the egg out. The first egg of what felt like a dozen inside him plopped out, and he nearly collapsed from the effort. The surface was soft but rough, like the thick leather they used for armor straps and saddles, and within it, no doubt, was a small… hybrid. Sweet, if brief, relief swept over Coatl as he thought about how his offspring would look. Bigger than normal saurus, no doubt. Perhaps with the scythe-like claws of their progenitor.

Each time he laid, the pleasure of doing so grew a little more intense, but on the other hand, it was overwhelming. It was amazing how easy being bred was in comparison to what it was like dealing with the aftermath. At least his belly was slowly shrinking again. On the other hand, his cock was getting hard despite it all, leaving each egg less and less space to squeeze out of him, which meant it felt even more intense, and that in turn made Coatl moan harder, struggling to even breathe as his body clenched and squeezed around each one in unfamiliar ways. Each squeeze only got him harder, and the harder he was, the more pleasurable it was to feel the eggs rub against the underside of his shaft before plopping out into the makeshift nest.

“Push harder," Tiacelel encouraged, and Coatl did, shuddering as another egg slipped out of his slit and onto the pillows. He didn't understand how his new anatomy worked. Somewhere inside him was a womb, and that womb connected the same slit his cock swelled out of. Yet there was no denying it, as the growing clutch in his quickly built nest was evidence of. He only hoped he wouldn't have to keep the eggs warm, by sitting on them like a hen. Thankfully, the jungles of lustria were usually warm enough, so as long as no predators got to them…

The next egg, a particularly large one, nearly got stuck, remaining inside him for entirely too long while Tiacelel caressed his belly, trying to ease it out. Rather than pain, though, there was a strange blend of discomfort and arousal. Coatl had to brace himself on all fours as he pushed again, feeling his inner walls clutch the egg even more tightly, and that stretching sensation in turn making him quiver with pleasure. He tried to imagine one of the beastmen who had initially corrupted him stuffing their horse-sized cock inside him, picturing how he'd relax to allow it entry. All he had to do was relax the same now, the eggs were only slightly wider in circumference than that two-minded minotaur's maleness had been. The fantasy did, surprisingly enough, allow him to relax his muscles just enough to let the egg pass.

With a moan, that one eventually popped out, followed by a dribble of cum forced out of the saurus' body by the sheer pressure. Granted, it didn't do anything to quell his arousal. By now, he felt almost aglow, the laying a tantric experience of sorts, keeping him just on the edge, where he was drooling cum slowly but never reaching a full orgasm.

Tiacelel squeezed Coatl's belly roughly, rubbing it with his rough, scaly fingers.

“Feels like one more. Push," the kroxigor grunted. He seemed to already be anticipating their offspring growing up like natural lizards, rather than emerging from the pools. Perhaps they'd hatch fully-grown, or perhaps they wouldn't. Certainly, it'd take much longer than a spawning either way. Especially if they were, indeed, saurus-cold one hybrids.

More than anything, of course, the massive kroxigor was anticipating mating with them, and then, hopefully, filling Coatl with a new clutch. This time, his clutch. Or perhaps he'd have the Coatl make his belly swell instead. The possibilities were endless, really, every moment a new chance to feel a new kind of ecstasy. That was, truly, the beauty of chaos. Everything was allowed, as long as it felt good.

Coatl did actually collapse as the last egg stretched him wide on the way out. He fell onto his back, his legs twitching and trembling when that last leathery egg forced it was way out. It joined the others in a neat little pile and leaving the saurus utterly drained. He curled up next to the kroxigor, exhausted, staring towards the starry sky as he tried to catch his breath. It seemed like night had fallen, but he had no idea when it had happened. Time had stopped meaning anything a long time ago. Not an unpleasant fate, all things considered, being adrift on the tides of pleasure without knowing anything else.

Every now and then, in his more lucid moments, Coatl thought of what had happened to him, if only briefly. He'd lost count of how many others he'd mated with. Their mounts, too, and every wild animal that wandered into the city. The dragon had bathed him in his seed more than once. The only one, he thought, that he hadn't yet had any experience with was Tiacelel. Somehow, their relationship felt different. No doubt sooner or later they'd mate, but…

Suddenly, a chill wind swept over them. Cold enough to rouse him. The last few hours had been strange, the weather around the city growing erratic and unstable. Not to mention that wind didn't feel natural, it felt heavy with magic.

Coatl didn't know it, of course, but it was the slann's ritual beginning to take effect. It'd be a while yet before the swirling winds of magic reached the kind of strength they'd need to “purify" the city. So far the gusts, cold as they were, only seemed to stoke Coatl's desires.

The saurus stood up, as did Tiacelel. The eggs would be safe here; any predators that wandered in would be far more interested in the seductive and boundless mating taking place all over the city than a few small, leathery eggs.

Arousal was rising within him again, as it always did. Tiacelel looked much the same; his erection hadn't softened for what seemed like days, now. Spilled seed matted his scales, and yet he thirsted for more, just as Coatl did. The two of them headed back towards the city center, where the orgy was neverending. Someone had, a while back, robbed a caravan that'd been transporting alcoholic beverages, and despite not being used to their effects, the lizardmen had eagerly partaken. Empty bottles of it littered the streets.

As if there was nothing more natural in the world, Coatl approached the blacksmith, feeling that empty gnawing sensation of wanting to be filled and stretched. Equally unquestioningly, the blacksmith – whose name Coatl had discovered was Cozcatl, even though the kroxigors seldom cared for names if they weren't legendary warriors yet – pulled him into his lap.

Tiacelel had, for his part, taken a liking for Ixtli, Coatl's mentor. Though much smaller, the saurus had a deviously dominant attitude, and it seemed he particularly enjoyed larger bottoms to sate his needs in.

The others around them didn't even blink as the Coz spread Coatl's cheeks and all but impaled the saurus onto his blunt cock, drawing a pleasured moan from the smaller lizardman. It was almost businesslike, the passion they'd experienced before replaced by simple need, a hungry desire to keep reaching those previous heights of pleasure. Soon, Coatl was bouncing in his lap like a ragdoll, moaning happily and freely each time that massive cock thrust into him. This was the life, was it not? A simple and superficially rewarding one, everyone reduced to simply cocks and holes for the cocks to spurt into.

Once again the wind grew stronger, for a moment. Like a gust that stirred something inside Coatl. Memories he'd all but forgotten, maybe, or some… core aspect of himself. He shuddered, the soaring magical forces slowly pushing through the taint. Not enough to dispel it, not yet, but enough to make him hesitate and stop moving, as if recalling that he was doing something wrong, something he shouldn't be doing.

The blacksmith, though, was in no hurry. His scaly body tensed against Coatl as he hammered his cock into the smaller saurus, pounding him as if he were a piece of metal to be worked. Certainly, every time his steel-hard cock sunk into Coatl, the saurus moaned with joy, feeling so utterly full. It rubbed over his prostate with each delicious throb, too, nearly blinding Coatl with pleasure. His own cook was rubbing into the kroxigor's rough scales, leaking, leaving behind it a fresh warm coat of preseed, but all that was secondary to the glorious pleasure radiating through his entire body.

And yet, somehow, it didn't feel as overwhelming as it'd used to. Coatl found that he'd regained some agency, if only a little of it. Enough to, perhaps, take control. Suddenly, in a burst of motivation and raw, carnal desire, he shoved the kroxigor down onto the tiles and began to ride him, gyrating his hips as best he could as he worked his aching body up and down that wonderful shaft. When Cozcatl tried to grab him again, Coatl swatted his hands away and instead leaned down to dig his teeth into the kroxigor's shoulder. He didn't know it, of course, but this return of willpower and the ability to choose what he did was from the winds of magic slowly beginning to cleanse him, and ironically, that too was an intoxicating sensation. The dominance, surging warm and proud through his body, the sense of control – oh yes, he'd enjoy breeding himself on the blacksmith's tool, faster and faster, until it doused the heat within him.

At the same time, Ixtli was rutting Tiacelel, though more gently. Coatl's egg-mate had no preferences, not really, being equally likely to raise his tail as he was to mount others, and his pleasured growls, grunts and snarls revealed that he liked it all just about equally. The heavy, rhythmic thumping against his upturned ass was almost hypnotizing, too, and he relished in the feeling of being mated by the guard-captain. No wonder Coatl was so eager if this was who'd taught him.

But then, like an icy chill, Tiacelel felt the wind shift, too. Though he'd never possessed the kind of mental clarity that the saurus did, it was like a surge of icy water rushing through him. A sensation of coolness and calm that made him want to wrest away control, too. Oh, he had just the perfect idea of what he wanted to do, too. He'd never had the opportunity to breed Coatl, but his mentor would make for a fine substitute.

Suddenly, then, he stood up, effortlessly throwing off the saurus on his back before spinning around and grabbing Ixtli's arms.

“I think it's time for you to lay a clutch," Tiacelel growled, hoisting him up onto the nearby stairs and spreading his legs wide. The sound Ixtli made was halfway between a squeak of protest and a lusty, willing growl, but the true sign of acceptance was that his cock began to soften immediately, preparing to allow the kroxigor to seed his slit.

“That's it. You want to be my brood-hen, don't you?" Tiacelel snarled, rubbing the tip of his leaking member against the underside of Ixtli's puffy slit as the saurus' own cock slowly retreated. And then, with a roar of blissful dominance, he sunk his weapon deep into Ixtli's warm, yielding body.

Though older than Tiacelel, much older, Ixtli was all too eager to agree. He moaned out a few words of lusty requests, bucking back against Tiacelel. Ever since he'd seen Coatl swollen with eggs, he'd wanted it too. The experience must've been so very taboo, so unnatural for a male. Not that any of the lizardmen were truly men, but chaos had seen fit to grant them primarily masculine gifts. Either way, the notion of a pregnant lizardman – reproducing in such a primitive yet pleasurable way – sent chills down Ixtli's spine, and his legs locked firmly around the kroxigor's thrusting hips. It was a kind of mutual dominance, at that point. Itxli was determined to milk the seed out of Tiacelel's balls regardless of if he wanted it or not, and equally, Tiacelel was determined to seed Ixtli regardless of his opinions. A perfect combination that left them mating almost violently.

At the same time, Coatl was riding the blacksmith. His cock felt stiff as metal, and hot as the forge he had worked on before all this, burning with a pleasurable, seductive, fiercely lusty heat inside him. Like an iron rod pistoning in and out of him, its scorching touch only intensifying that thirsty need inside Coatl, challenging his dominance with the desire to beg Cozcatl for the cum that'd douse his heat.

But instead, the blacksmith was the one who begged first. He was growling, rocking his hips, trying to speed up and each his climax, but Coatl was the one setting the pace this time. Soon Cozcatl was hoarsely whispering at Coatl to let him cum.

“Soon," was all the saurus said, and with that, he clenched a little harder around the kroxigor's cock, clamping down around it hard the next time he slid down onto it. Just a little longer. He was close, too, closer to that beautiful but fleeting moment of euphoria, both of his own climax and of being filled with masculine heat. Coatl's breathing was growing erratic, his moans hoarse, and his motions erratic and twitchy as his muscles tired. Just a- little longer-

Their climax was mutual and sudden. It was Coatl who spilled his seed first, feeling that thick maleness pound against his prostate with each trembling twitch of his body. With a proud moan, he came, painting the blacksmith's chest with yet another load of cum, in rich pearly ropes. At the same time, he felt Cozcatl's shaft finally buck and jerk inside him, flooding his body with the same, the sexy heat of it seemingly seeping into every part of his body as the kroxigor roared in blissful release, once more draining his balls where they belonged.

He'd done it before, of course. There was probably some of his seed still left inside Coatl too, before he even came. They'd all mated with each other, relentlessly, stopping only to eat and sleep. Either way, he was now refilling him, in massive wet spurts, seemingly endless. And then, with even his great kroxigor endurance spent, as sure as it would've been in battle, he collapsed backwards. There was a certain dominant pride in doing what he had just done, Coatl discovered, in deliberately milking someone dry inside him rather than merely letting them use him. Taking their very essence into him, letting them breed – or at least fill, when his ass was squeezing the seed out of them – him. Oh yes, he'd want more of that.

Next to them, Tiacelel was still enjoying Ixtli, keeping a leisurely pace as they mated. When Coatl saw which hole the kroxigor was using, though, he felt a pang of jealousy. Was it not his right to breed his mentor? Then again, he also wanted to be bred by the kroxigor. Why hadn't they ever done anything before? The thought gnawed at him for a minute, but then a gust of wind left his mind blank again, and he found himself emptily staring at Ixtli and Tiacelel, who also seemed confused, momentarily losing their rhythm and clumsily grinding together.

It was a stormy night, wasn't it? Coatl could see the jungle swaying in the increasingly hard wind. Unusually… stormy. He could vaguely see geometric shapes swirl around in the dust the wind kicked up. A sense that he should be panicking, as a servant of chaos, flashed through his mind, but his corruption was not that of a warrior. He was merely a slave to his desires, not the kind of servant the dark deities might've used to break open the spawning pool's chambers to stop this desecration.

That last word, half his own thoughts, and half those of whatever daemon was influencing him, seared into Coatl's mind. Yes! Desecration. He simply had to keep fucking, to desecrate himself. Right? There was no clarity of mind to be had with how his lusts raged, and so that was the only idea he had.

Immediately, he tugged Tiacelel off Ixtli's body and shoved the confused kroxigor towards his own mentor. Tiacelel opened his mouth to protest, but upon seeing the blacksmith's shaft still hard, no words actually came out. He, too, had the sense that something was wrong, that he was going to change again, but his mind was even more sluggish than Coatl's. As long as no harm came to his egg-brother, they'd be alright, and he could simply enjoy himself. Wasn't that correct?

Coatl smiled a devious grin at Ixtli, who was still dazed, spent cum bubbling slowly from his slit like a perverted spring. He pressed himself against his mentor's body and forced his cock into that sodden passage.

“There. Now who's the mentor?" Coatl growled. “Time to see if old sauruses still enjoy being taught how to behave."

It didn't really make any sense, but it felt right in the moment. He half expected the older, stronger saurus to throw him off, but Ixtli never did. Instead, he surrendered to his student, spreading his legs wider as a crimson blush of lusty embarrassment spread across his snout and chest both.

“That's it, isn't it? Why you always act so tough? Because really you- ngh!" Coatl growled, pausing to grunt as the pleasure spiked higher. “-want all the young recruits breeding you?"

“Y-yes, but…" Ixtli groaned. With the chaos in him, there were precious few sexual experiences that he didn't want. Such as the one currently being offered to him by Coatl's pistoning, potent breeding rod. He'd simply not known he wanted it before it was already happening. Silently, under his groaning breath, he thanked the dark deities of chaos for giving him yet another gift.

Would he be able to get pregnant? He was certainly old enough. Imagining himself full of his student's eggs was intensely degrading, but yet, it also made him moan with need at the fantasy of it, the mental picture alone enough to leave him squirming and thrashing, trying to find any way to focus on the pleasure rather that it overwhelming him like a warm summer tide. It was madness, but of the finest kind. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than for his young protégé to dominate him utterly, to claim him with his youthful seed.

Soon he was bucking back, meeting Coatl's every thrust, showing off his eagerness with every motion. Theirs was a wild, dominant mating.

“I knew it," Coatl huffed. “All an act, wasn't it? Trying to -hrgh- convince yourself that you were the dominant and old one, when…"

He thrust sharply, delighting in the high-pitched moan that the motion drew from Ixtli's lips when Coatl's shaft hit some tingling part inside him.

“…when all you want is to be a breeding slut!"

They continued their rhythmic mating-dance until Ixtli's tongue was lolling from his mouth, his eyes unfocused and glazed over as Coatl fucked all that dominance out of him, establishing a new pecking order. At least until the next unpredictable fetish revealed itself through the taint. That was the nature of chaos; nothing ever lasted. One moment, the master was the slave, and the next he was back to being the master again. Similarly, submission and dominance waxed and waned for all but the most powerful servant-demons and the gods of chaos themselves. Even for them, though, their power wasn't constant.

So who was Ixtli to try to hold on to anything?

Coatl grunted with pleasure as he watched Ixtli surrender, feeling his body accept his cock fully. Soon he'd give it more than just cock, and he'd love seeing his mentor's belly swell with all-but-incestuous eggs for how close they were. All that remained was having him lay them in the… in the…

…spawning pools. The moment those two words revealed themselves to Coatl, he once again lost his rhythm, overcome by that sensation of almost remembering something. The spawning pools were still pure, weren't they? Had he been meant to keep them that way, or to befoul them as the corrupted lords had done in other cities, leaving the waters murky and cloudy with corrupted seed?

He couldn't remember anymore. The slann-magic was tugging him back from the precipice of utter corruption, and yet the void of total perversion yawned wide before him, goading him to plunge into it head-first. It was almost anti-climactic when he finally reached his peak and filled the groaning, begging Ixtli with his seed and eggs. Certainly, it still felt wonderful, establishing his dominance, but his mind was torn, thoughts pulled elsewhere towards something far more important.

Ixtli was, as deeply corrupted as he was, not feeling the winds yet. He heard them, yes, but they didn't touch him as they had Coatl, who had spent less time wallowing in chaos. And as such, for him, the experience was pure bliss. His body all but sucked in the seed that his apprentice offered him, each convulsing spasm of pleasure pulling it deeper into his body, hopefully all the way into his womb where it could make him swell, leaving him unmistakable pregnant. And when anyone asked who'd done it, how wonderful degrading it'd feel to admit – freely – that he'd allowed the youngest of the lizardmen to breed him.

Tiacelel was fondling Cozcatl's cock leisurely as he listened to the orgy, particularly enjoying Coatl and Ixtli's little display of passion and lust. He'd had plenty of time with it, by now. Enough time to know exactly what made it throb. When he flicked his tongue against the cum-coated underside of it, just where the shaft ended and the glans began, the blacksmith always shivered, and if already turned on enough, he'd squirt out a few dribbles of precum, too. Tiacelel had always liked the tangy taste of it. He coiled his tongue around his mentor's shaft and began to suck.

Did he want to get pregnant? He couldn't help but overhear the lusty voices of Coatl and Ixtli. Maybe, but… there was a certain tugging desire in his heart to have his saurus egg-brother be the one who bred him full of eggs, if it were to happen. Until then, perhaps not. In the meantime, his reptilian mouth easily engulfed Cozcatl's eternally needful shaft, caressing every inch of it just as the cock caressed his tongue.

Truly, it was a wonder chaos managed to muster any armies at all, if they were all this sensitive. Even servicing someone felt amazing. His tongue tingled pleasantly with each drop of precum that coated it. And being serviced, well – he hadn't thought of battle for a few… what had it been? Days? A week, maybe. Yes, the rush of adrenaline was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the pleasures of the flesh he now spent every waking moment exploring. Nothing compared to being able to taste just the faintest hint of everyone else's release on the blacksmith's scales.

He sunk his mouth a little deeper onto that beautiful member, effortlessly taking it all the way down into his throat. Thankfully, all kroxigors had rather wide throats, as the crocodilian beasts they were, and as such Cozcatl's shaft fit in the snug caress of his mouth easily, and Tiacelel's lips, tongue and throat welcomed it.

But then, Tiacelel felt that chill again. The strange, eerie sensation that something was wrong, that this wasn't what he was meant to be doing. Glancing at Coatl again, he felt a pang of jealousy. The world around him seemed to crystallize into vague, geometric shapes, almost like the… the…

The memory refused to surface, for now. Tiacelel let out a frustrated growl. He didn't realize he had stopped worshipping his mentor's cock before he felt the other kroxigor's hands grab onto his head and hold him in place so he could fuck his mouth properly. Though not unwelcome, it was distracting, and it felt like that other thought was more important somehow. More pressing, more urgent.

Once again, though, the chaos roiling inside him managed – if only barely – to resist the cleansing winds of slann-magic, though by chance alone as he suddenly felt someone behind him, grabbing onto his tail and hoisting it up and out of the way. With that strange sensation of clarity, Tiacelel tried to protest, managing only a muffled huff around his mentor's cock, and a hoarse gurgle with his throat halfway blocked, before whoever, or whatever it was, mounted him like a common animal.

It wasn't even a lizardman. One of the mounts, no doubt, but Tiacelel couldn't exactly turn around and look. From the panting and growling, he figured it to be one of the errant cold ones that'd wandered in, but the one thing he did know was that it was incredibly eager. It jabbed around, trying to sink into the kroxigor's body, but at first only managed to jab his ring, and then his slit painfully.

And then, unable to find his pucker with its blind humping, the creature had another idea. It aimed a little lower, instinctively, perhaps imagining Tiacelel as a female of its own species, and with the next hard thrust, its cocktip caught on the kroxigor's slit and then slipped inside. Only barely fitting, but an inch seemed to be all the beast needed as it growled with pleasure, beginning to hump that little opening as fast and energetically as it could.

A confusing blend of emotions swallowed the kroxigor. On one hand, it felt fantastic, as sex always did now. But on the other, he knew that here was a risk of him being fertilized if it came in his slit. He'd seen it happen to enough of his kin already. While that thought, of being bred by some feral beast just using him as an available hole was exciting, there was a bitterness to it too, an anxiety; he wanted Coatl to be the one to do it.

Thankfully, with the slice of his mind that he'd recovered thanks to the Slann's efforts, he wasn't going soft as he'd seen the others do, at the prospect of being dominated and bred, which meant that the raptor – and it was a raptor, he could hear its possessive squawks – couldn't wedge its dangerous cock as deep into that risky opening as it otherwise might have. That didn't, in any way, mean that he was safe though, as some of its eager little swimmers would undoubtedly find their way deep into his womb. If only he could turn around. Try as he might, Tiacelel couldn't muster enough strength to break Cozcatl's grip on his head, forcing his nose into those cum-coated musky scales and his throat all the way onto his cock. As such, the only thing he could do was to wiggle around, to try to shift enough to make the beast slip out of him again.

Cozcatl was completely unaware, or perhaps aware but uncaring of his friend's plight. He kept thrusting into Tiacelel's throat, already swelling up in anticipation of his impending orgasm, while his fingers roughly kneaded the other kroxigor's head and neck. The kind of gesture that said, wordlessly – as the blacksmith didn't speak much – good boy.

Tiacelel couldn't deny how good it felt to be spitroasted like this, between one of his own kind and some stranger beast who'd just happened to wander in, finding him with his ass and slit conveniently presented. The constant thumping friction of its cock against his was wonderful, too, and somehow, it managed to cram another inch into him, dangerously close to wherever Tiacelel knew his womb was located. If he had one. He still held out hope that he didn't.

Suddenly his throat was being filled with cum. His mouth, too, with how much Cozcatl came, like a pressured stream of warm seed that made the kroxigor drool at the wonderful taste of it. That same chaotic haze began to reassert itself over his mind, clouding his thoughts once again. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Gulp. Coatl could always breed him once he'd laid his first clutch. Gulp. Another mouthful of cum swallowed down, dribbling from the corners of his mouth, filling his belly with warm liquid heat. After all, the horny beast mating with him had been the first to claim him, so why shouldn't it get to fill his belly with eggs?

After all, one of its kind had bred Coatl.

Just as he began to soften in submission, his body preparing to allow the cold one deep where it belonged inside him, the wind blew again, once again stronger than before. The mist in Tiacelel's skull dissipated again, and he was suddenly aware of the absurdity of the situation, how meaningless these actions, despite how pleasant they felt, really were.

He could feel the raptor hammering faster and faster. It'd cum soon, pump that animal seed into him. He had to at least do what he could. With a surge of strength from the reforming and strengthening geomantic webs, he pried Cozcatl's hands off his neck and pulled himself off his cock. The triumphant feeling welled through him as he got onto all fours, just about to strangle the raptor rutting him, when – splurt. He felt its cock twitch inside him, and an immediate wet head squirting into him with more than a little force. The feeling was intense, enough to knock the breath out of his lungs as he collapsed back into Cozcatl's laps.

He was being bred. That was, at least, the beast's intent, even if it cared for little more than orgasming inside of him in the end. And his body was drinking what little of it ended up inside him. Thankfully, the raptor's cock wasn't deep inside him, with his own erection blocking its way, but it was deep enough that there was a distinct risk.

Still, there was nothing he could do now. The cold one's surprisingly warm cum was already inside him. He might as well let it finish, Tiacelel thought, like a good breeder. And so he did, obediently keeping his rump raised until the raptor was done pulsating inside him, painting what it could of his slit with its pearly seed. Most of it, thankfully, leaked out. The raptor withdrew, once spent, and leaned over to give Tiacelel an affectionate but somehow degrading lick along his neck, as if thanking the kroxigor for offering himself to it.

If Tiacelel had only had more energy, he might've done something about it. He didn't, though, and simply laid there as he listened to the raptor's footsteps growing increasingly distant.

Defeated but satisfied, he didn't move until the next surging wave of magic. This time it was overwhelming, shattering engraved stonework and felling many of the mighty trees that surrounded the city. Deafening cracks split the air as trunks splintered, and even miles away, the beastmen clutched their heads in agony as the storm intensified to the point of madness.

And yet it was in that howling wind that Tiacelel could finally see clearly. Finally, the slann's spell had reached the kind of intensity it needed to purge the taint from the lizardmen, and it did so. Everyone who had remained in the city froze, as if paralyzed, toppling over or growing still on top of each other, their energy sapped by the dwindling chaos in its attempts to burn on, in vain.

He looked towards Coatl, who stood perfectly still as well, with a distant look in his eyes as he gazed at the havoc wreaked by the winds of magic; gouts of flame and ice licking the streets, shadow and light flashing before his eyes.

Suddenly, Coatl could see through the haze of chaos once again. His mind felt clearer, his body relaxed as if submerged in a warm bath, the constant pressure and tension of unbridled lust fading into the background, and replaced by something deeper. His eyes fell on Tiacelel, who was already looking at him, mirroring that feeling of affection that the saurus was, himself, feeling.

Were they meant to be together, then? Was this what being a “normal" creature was like, with the taint of chaos peeled away? To follow, rather than only his cock, that swelling feeling of deeper desire within his heart?

There were many questions. For a moment, Coatl felt like he was above the world, perceiving the forces of order and chaos in perfect balance, mingling with each other, and each with a part of the other in themselves. He embraced the kroxigor, but in a lover's arms rather than the lusts of a mere beast. Yes. This was how it was meant to be; this was the Great Plan. For the lizardmen to reach a state of truly living rather than being either mere cogs in the machine of order, or pawns in the erratic games of chaos.

More than just his arms caressing Tiacelel's scaly hide, he embraced the feeling of it, the sense of nigh-completeness. He only wanted, for the time, to join with his egg-brother and love.

Around them, the world was almost silent. The winds had choked the lust out of most of the others, and being more corrupted to begin with, they'd fallen asleep, unconscious at least, into a quiet deathlike slumber. Who knew what they'd be upon waking up? Once more winds howled, colder now and almost electrifying, as the magic of the slann did its work. In the eye of that storm, Coatl and Tiacelel clutched at each other more tightly, holding on to the only steadiness they knew; their love. For it was love, surely, that they were feeling.

Without any degrading words, without any need to establish dominance, they joined in passionate mating then and there, freely and lovingly, on the streets of Tlaxtlan as the city began to cleanse itself of chaos. The penetration was slick, warm, and natural; Tiacelel's reptilian shaft sank easily into Coatl's wanting slit, his hips rolling slowly and free of urgency, expressing his love with each beat of his heart and with each throb of his cock.

Coatl moaned, but it wasn't a forced moan of lust. Rather, he moaned the kroxigor's name as his legs wrapped around his hips, possessively. And yet, no matter how good it felt, the taint didn't take control. Yes, he desired to be filled by Tiacelel's seed, but he wasn't overwhelmed by that need, and somehow, despite the primitive carnality of the act, it felt like something higher, something more important. He would carry a clutch of his lover's eggs, and soon, Tiacelel would carry his as well. They'd seed each other, make each other's bellies swell with life, and perhaps – Old Ones willing – they'd sire a new generation of lizardmen entirely. Not born into rigid roles in the spawning pools, but rather to be individuals with their own hopes and dreams.

So lost was he in that sensual reverie that Coatl barely felt Tiacelel's cock twitch inside him, but he did feel the life-giving warmth blossoming inside him, no doubt filling his hidden womb. No doubt making him pregnant again, but this time, he wanted it. Wanted it more than anything else in the world. And it was his own will that clenched around that spurting shaft, not the urges of some dark deity.

Once he was spent, there was no question of what he wanted next. Especially with the raptor just having filled him. He needed it quickly, too, so that it might be Coatl who sired a clutch of eggs inside him rather than some mindless beast. The mighty kroxigor laid back, his cock softening and retreating in turn as he bared his receptive slit for his saurus mate. With a growl of passion, Coatl was atop him in an instant, sliding his slick length into that wonderful warmth.

Each thrust was a like another slice of heaven. The feeling of Tiacelel's soft cock rubbing against his hardness every time he sank into that velvety bliss left Coatl panting. Yes, his motivations and goals were carnal and primitive in nature, but there was no shame in them, as there had been before. There was nothing wrong with this. Nothing wrong with breeding his egg-brother full of eggs. The wind was raging now, all around them, as if their pure desires fuelled it further, the magical energies feeding off them as they burned and froze the chaos away, covering the tiled streets of Tlaxtlan with a thin layer of frost and soot, yet leaving the mating pair untouched.

He reached his climax just as the wind did; when Coatl hilted himself inside Tiacelel at the apex of his pleasure, a storm-like gust of wind shattered the sealed entrance to the spawning pools, showering the nearby area with shards of it, but Coatl couldn't care less. The base of his cock throbbed in rapid rhythm as he filled the kroxigor with his heat, his seed, his love, keeping himself buried deep to leave it all where it belonged, and hoping.

And then, just as the moment of passion cooled down, the wind died as well. Not a single sound but their ragged breathing and the thrumming of their rapidly beating hearts was heard as the world slowly returned to normal around them. Quiet, orderly, and still.

They laid there, their hearts filled with nothing but affection, and those ever-present urges sated fully for now, as they would be after a fulfilling coupling. For the first time since their corruption, Coatl and Tiacelel felt complete, full, content, simply existing and enjoying each other's presence rather than the cloudy, nagging, and ravenous hunger of chaos egging them on towards the next climax.

The slann emerged, hesitantly at first. They'd not predicted the winds of magic being so energized that they'd shatter the stonework itself, but then again, they'd also not considered that love, it seemed, fed magic to even greater heights than the passion of chaos did. It wasn't that they weren't confident in their magical strength; it was that they weren't sure that what they wanted to do could be done. Immediately, they were crestfallen to see Coatl and Tiacelel still busy mating, but then, the details of the situation began to emerge.

Though the two were deep in the throes of lust, their eyes lacked that wild, hedonistic gleam that corruption always brought. No, they were choosing to mate rather than being forced to by their tainted urges.

The mutations, it seemed, were permanent. Upon surveying the former site of the orgy, the mage-priests noticed that most of the others had stopped, deciding instead to take breaks, to rest and recover, and some showed no signs of arousal at all though their genitals remained.

They'd succeeded, to some degree. That much was obvious. It'd take much more work to fully purify their kin, but perhaps that wasn't necessary yet. After all, the oldest of them thought, was this not how the lesser species always worked? Constantly ready to mate, but perhaps choosing not to out of some sense of responsibility or appropriateness. Perhaps this was the fate of the lizardmen, then; to be reincarnated, effectively, as a species like any other rather than the perfect scaly automatons the Old Ones had designed. To breed as others did, and to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, but not being controlled by them like the chaos-spawn were.

Yes, they weren't back to normal yet. But the worst of the taint in their minds had been cleansed. This, the slann realized, was a hopeful sign. If they could do the same to the fallen lords of the other cities, there was hope yet that the Great Plan could be fulfilled. When the Old Ones returned, one day, perhaps they could return the lizardmen to their former glory. Until then, this would allow them to at least remain functional.

In unison, the slann raised their hands and touched the geomantic webs that permeated the city. Indeed, those currents of arcane power were still intact, radiating with order rather than chaos.