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The first thing that hit me upon arrival was the poisonous stench in the air.
Not a stench like… Someone or a mortal. But the world I came from, Etheirys, was bathed in Aether. Or a crystal-pure mana devoid of any corruption, easily breathable for my kin. But the transition threw me into a world with a mana poisoned by all the magic that had been cast, by the Fel, by Death.
The moment it hit me, I dropped on all fours and almost crumbled on the painted circle. I thought I was dying or dead. My mind raced with all the possibilities while I saw Humans, pink or green, as well as Minotaurs or bearded Lalafells.
I was stunned by all those people wearing purple robes with those dreary markings all over their faces, looking so small.
And then, there was that rumbling that caught my eye. My heart throbbed in my chest in fear; I thought something even greater than the end days would devour me.
It… It was the one I would be calling Husband, Love, or Master.
He was a Dragon, much like me. But his scent was different, and the mana he exuded was tilted towards the void. A strong aroma that permeated those scales, black as coal, or the metal strapped to his chest and jaw, like to replace what might have been burned.
Magma glowed underneath his chest scales, and his eyes were red with a fiery expression that made me think he was crazy… Or… Worse. Full of intent.
Fool that I was, I tried to open my mouth to speak. But as I begged for their help with that corrupted magic, they seemed confused.
Then, the massive Dragon looked at one cultist who scrambled, waving his arms in my direction. He was arguing or pleading for something, but in the end… He was devoured, the metal jaws closing on him with a crunching sound that made my uneasy stomach worse.
Only then, my Love would straighten up his chest and huff an order.
When the cultists answered by bowing, I heard the name of whom I belong to: Deathwing.
Right after that, Deathwing turned and took off, crossing through the air in the vast cavern I was now stuck inside. Deepholm. Which was to be my prison and would become my home.
I learned later that this place had been a prison for Azeroth’s elemental life. However, it was also the place of operations for the Twilight Hammer, Deathwing’s followers.
It was they who summoned me, plucking me from Etheirys and stranding me here.
Luckily, they were smart enough to feed and care for me.
Even if I didn’t come from this world, they had the knowledge to help me recover. And soon, thanks to the constant exposure, I was used to breathing the mana the cultists and Deathwing exuded. Void-infused mana.
Still, its scent was strong and raw in my nose. But I could breathe, survive… And be something other than a bleating creature choking on mana.
It was also… During that time; I became acquainted with the cultists' language. I learned the name of this world, Azeroth, as well as my purpose.
A purpose I thought gruesome.
Deathwing was a Black Dragon, a kind almost extinct thanks to the mortals and the conflicts that had permeated this world. Something I understood.
However he… Planned for me to become a broodbearer for him. It was something about my blood being untainted by whatever Titans or the other Bloodlines.
I was a perfect vessel for them and so… It was why I was there, bound, limited.
Instead of my lineage, I was to bear another.
And… I would not agree. No, I hated that prospect after I had been stolen from my family. But as much as I roared, fought, or hit the cultists, more kept coming. While I had been left unbound on my first days, the chains were starting to weigh on me.
My wings were bound, so were my legs… And soon, even feeding was forced on me by Cultists using sticks to slide food down my throat.
I was biding my time.
Though the mana in this world wasn’t as pure or unaspected as the one I liked… I fomented a plan. I endured the cultists using their needles to ink my scales or infuse them with void. I endured the prodding, constant verification. Down to their hands inspecting my groin.
I growled and huffed, showing just enough aggression to make them wary but not enough to make them overestimate me. Then… As one fateful day, they were assaulted by one group of adventurers… I broke free from the chains.
All the power I had concentrated was unleashed to melt the elementium chains. Then, shaking my wings, I took flight. I heard the cultists' enemies were located at the base of a pillar at the center of that plane.
If I reached them, I thought, they could release me from all the cursed markings on my belly and taint. I even hoped there would be a mage knowledgeable enough to send me back.
However…
Deathwing’s shadow was near.
Before I could descend, Deathwing made his presence known and crashed into me. His size, amplified by the metal he wore, knocked me out of the sky, and I crashed into the ground.
The fall left me dazed for a second. But by the time I’d shaken the daze off, Deathwing’s paw landed atop my head.
“You cannot leave me, Broodbearer!”
“Thine desires are fruitless! Deathwing! I am to return to mine dwelling, forsooth, thy strife is not mine own!”
“What nonsense are you blabbering?! You know how to address me, lizard.”
“I am not your servant! Unshackle me!”
“Ah!” roared Deathwing, satisfied before he crushed my head against the stone. “You are not my servant. You are… My broodbearer.”
“Broodbearer! What is that word?!”
I cried and tried to shake Deathwing off like you’d do a parasite, unaware of the true difference in strength between us two. Or the difference in dedication.
I didn’t know about Deathwing’s corruption from the Old Gods, a folly I know.
Alas, while pinned to the ground, Deathwing’s scalding breath explored my body. There were even touches of the molten rocks composing his being dripping over my scales, making me yelp and cry.
I tried to shake my wings, but his strength was impossible. So was the weight of the earth he was bearing as he sniffed around… As he sniffed under my tail, ignoring the constant slapping I unleashed on his head.
And… He took another breath of my… Musky hole.
I know now that he liked it. And of the pleasure Master could bring through it.
But I was ashamed of it, and I yelped when I felt that breath upon his tender rim. I was… I had never been taken there. On that day, my entrance was thin and small. But it was definitely there when… Deathwing’s bright red tongue pushed against it.
It burned… It burned so much I could almost smell the burnt flesh, and yet it wasn’t. But it definitely was warm and overpowering when his tongue… Prodded my back entrance.
I cried, winced. Even whined.
But Deathwing’s tongue was much larger than expected. And so prehensile as it pushed against the scales, prying the glutes apart… And wiggling inside me.
I begged him. I called upon his soul and his very being to release me and cease that torment. But at the same time, I was discovering parts of myself I had never known. A strange discovery, a serendipity in what I consider a rape.
But was Deathwing marking me as a consort.
I didn’t know it, nor did I know about the touch that left my entrance aching and burning. Even the scales he had touched were blessed by him, giving them that burning red glow that would deter anyone but Deathwing. Even now, they remain there. A burning touch that could kill any mortal daring to approach that claimed entrance.
Then, with that wiggling tongue, Deathwing prodded something else. My… Prostate.
I wasn’t aware of the stimulation that could come from this side, foolish as I was. But when that tongue squeezed and pressed against my entrance… My world shifted.
I closed my eyes and moaned. I even craned my neck, unable to resist the sudden hit.
My… Genitals stirred from the slit. Moreover, the place Deathwing touched was marked as well. No, it was infused and branded in a way no other being was.
With his scalding tongue, he etched a rune onto my flesh. And when it was done… When he was done, I knew something had changed within me.
That rune, of course, was to restrain my pleasure to link me to him and his brood. No stimulation could permit me to achieve a natural orgasm.
A torment that was to make me crave him and ache for his presence. For his… Penis.
Something I finally saw when I stopped closing my eyes and finally watched what was so close to me. Deathwing… Was and is a proud male.
His testicles, infused with magic, are heavy beyond common measures, and they could be compared to boulders. They are black as charcoal, and their scales are soft, though burning hot. But if you glance enough, you can feel the mana infusing them. The power churning within as much as the semen.
And then, there is his penis. From the slit above, it always protrudes because of the spikes below. Those spikes are also not natural and are softer to the touch, despite their nature, similar to elementium.
Moreover, despite being an anomaly, they are sensitive to the touch. Much more than most of his penis, unless it is the tip.
I watched this with a heavy heart and the fear that this penis would claim me.
I didn’t know about the lack of danger from the spines, pliable and soft. Nor that I had been prepared to be flexible enough to take him, or that his semen, glowing red like magma, wouldn’t hurt me after I had been marked by Deathwing himself.
So… I cried.
“You will kill me if you… Dare to mount me!” I roared, craning my neck.
“I will not. A broodbearer is far too precious. Especially a weakling capable of bearing my essence,” said Deathwing as something akin to a finger brushed my muzzle.
I looked at it and saw that glowing tendrils, of the same red as Deathwing's blood, were sprouting from his side and acting like limbs.
No. There were many more.
Deathwing can create those limbs from the wounds he bears after using the Dragon Soul, an old Artifact in his war. Those suppurating wounds are covered with elementium, but they allow him to create those arms and fingers he used to play with my body.
Body he explored beyond his tongue as he touched the testicles pouch I had… Or my slit he titillated, with my precum and fluids evaporating when touched by that blood.
I cried, of course, at the intrusion and forceful touch; moreover, when he used those hands to pry my slit open to fish my penis out of it. I… Cried. I roared.
“DO NOT DARE!”
I was stupid.
I couldn’t contend with Deathwing. It was folly but to confront whom would be my lover and husband.
In that situation, he could have wounded or killed me for this insolence. But he seemed to take pleasure in the way I fought back and how I squirmed under his touch.
He grabbed my penis and squeezed it, stroked it, rubbed it.
Through the heat and hypersensitivity I experienced, I was tearing up on the floor. I felt violated and humiliated in so many ways. And yet, this was only the beginning, as my Master was tiring of the foreplay.
After years without a proper broodmate, Deathwing was pent up. His testicles swayed with power and all the hatchlings he desired to offer to the world.
I watched it as that precum continued to drip and melt the stone as he stepped around while his blood pinned me down.
Then. That same blood wrapped around my muzzle, my limbs. It limited me like the bondage the mortals did while my hind legs were lifted.
My tail was pulled aside, my head and chest lowered.
I was forced to assume a position very similar to the one I enjoyed with my mate eons ago.
But… It was for another male.
I couldn’t fight or oppose Deathwing.
The hold on me was too powerful, and I was feeling the effects of all the etched runes on my body. Against my will, I felt… Excited. I felt blood pumping inside my chest, and I was questioning my own sanity.
I was erect. Against all my desires.
I was… Definitely excited with my heart pumping inside my chest while the tendrils kept me tied. I know now it was the effect of all the magic infused within me.
But for that short instant, my will showed cracks, unaware of the flaring tattoo on my belly.
I was unaware of the void energy emanating from it or how twisted the magic was against one’s mind.
The result was, however, me glancing over my shoulder to see the towering Deathwing above me, his paws on either side of me… And his presence, his torso, almost descending onto me.
“I want to hear you cry,” he said.
And I couldn’t cry, but I tried. And the muffled sound was enough to make him chuckle while his penis, his sizable penis, was pressed against my sphincter. My orifice was virgin to any penetration except Deathwing’s tongue.
And Deathwing himself was… Impossibly large.
I have since heard about the many mates who died during their matings with him or those who were left broken by his girth and potency.
I cannot deny that I thought it would be the same for me.
As the tip pressed against my entrance, forced against it. I closed my eyes.
I forced so much, it was akin to trying to embrace the shadows or the void. Perhaps I touched it because I found comfort in the absence of light while I heard the grunts from Deathwing… And felt that searing touch on my posterior, the scalding hot precum being smeared against my entrance and producing that sizzling sound.
That burning semen even descended along my taint, branding it as much with Deathwing's powerful reptilian musk. And then… That tip was inside.
Only the tip, only the thinnest part of Deathwing's anatomy.
But it was enough to make my heart skip a beat. I gasped and gargled, unable to control the reflexes from my body, trying to survive that intrusion. My legs quivered and would have dropped if not for the tendrils. I foamed at the mouth. My nostrils flared wide.
And above? Deathwing laughed, his wings flapping before he folded them.
“What… A song,” he whispered lowly, his chest rumbling as his penis advanced again.
It was less than an inch. Perhaps even less.
But I was stunned and unable to react properly. Mayhap I could have used what remained of the power I had accumulated to unleash an attack. Or I could have done something else. But my focus was broken while another inch was forced inside, and my entrance stretched far beyond what the tongue might have prepared me for.
No. Deathwing’s penis was as wide as my torso, and it was to slip inside despite what I assumed to be possible.
In that, Magic is a wonderful tool because with each inch inside, I became intimately aware that I had not been hurt.
The soreness I experienced, as well as the heat, was overpowering but not a sign of maiming. My orifice, marked and blessed, was capable of stretching and accommodating Deathwing’s penis.
No.
It grew.
My entrance grew and was reshaped to accommodate. The sphincter itself grew wider in circumference and surface. Even now, if one… One peers at it, they could see the torus shape my entrance had taken as it is… Optimized for taking someone as endowed as Deathwing.
The wrinkles you can notice are necessary to allow extensive stretching, giving the orifice more surface area and volume to adapt.
I… It might be cold to say this… Towards who I am, but I had been remade for this.
I cried, I gargled, I begged silently for this to end. I was almost ready to embrace once more the void and the absence.
But it wouldn’t come. Instead, I was feeling my body being filled and bloated by Deathwing’s penis. I felt the spikes that made me guess I would be gutted like a fish enter… And making me feel like a fool, and yet pleasantly surprised by the delicate prodding onto my flesh that was growing sensitive.
And the pressure on my prostate, the weight of Deathwing’s sizable organ, forced it.
That pressure was what made me break from gasps and begging to a moan. A moan I was able to voice when Deathwing’s tendrils released my muzzle for that instant.
“Are you enjoying it, whelp?” gloated my Master.
He even laughed, his laughing shaking his body… And I, in return, like a quiver against my very prostate.
And I moaned again, my penis depositing a load of precum on the floor, a droplet compared to the burning red puddle below us.
“Please… Stop. My… Body,” I gargled.
“You are enduring it more than I thought, whelp. But you will not escape your fate.”
His answer was cold and cruel. Fitting with the way he thrust within me, almost crushing my hips by the weight… And had more than three-quarters of his length within me. My… Belly bulged from the penetration.
My body was reshaped by the magic and Deathwing’s sheer penis. I could feel the tremor of the void within my belly, though I did not understand it. I was feeling the waves and shakings overtaking me, leaving me gasping and huffing… And pulling on the tendrils that bound me.
“My belly… Hurts,” I huffed. But after taking Deathwing’s organ, I should have been writhing.
No.
This could be compared to growing pains or the period during which someone gets accustomed to something during an effort. But none of those efforts could be comparable to being penetrated by a Dragon much bigger than you, one that could crush you through his sheer weight… And yet, while unharmed by the act itself.
No… Despite the organ, with its spine, its girth, its volume. My orifice had adapted well enough for… Pleasing him. For being adequate as a consort.
That was what I gathered as I had his girth penetrating me and, in return, Deathwing huffed in satisfaction.
He even puffed his chest, his rumbling shaking the ground like an earthquake. Around the pebbles were bouncing while his penis fully… Entered me.
And I was left gasping and unable to voice my discontent.
“You can fight it. I prefer it when worms are squirming,” he said.
I would have if I weren’t so stunned.
Or if I wasn’t… Erect. And dripping on the floor myself due to the stimulation, to the tendrils and the pressure on that deep part of my anatomy, on the brand he’d left behind.
My world was drowned by a pleasure that I assumed to be mine and mine alone. No. I was questioning my becoming as I was ravaged beyond measure.
And… I could sense that fluid, that precum, flow deeper within my body. It filled me with warmth, unlike any other, and though it was enough to make me huff and breathe quicker to cool myself… There was… A fulfillment.
It is peculiar. And impossible to describe. But all those fluids deep within me were soothing, like an embrace from within.
Similarly to that, the organ, once it was firmly entrenched. Deathwing’s groin pressed against my back, forcing on my hips until they gyrated slightly.
I wouldn’t say I was blissful or happy. I was not. I was coughing, gargling, and trying to find my words and my will amidst all the contradictory sensations.
But I could not voice them, as even a word was disrupted by the slightest of movement: my breathing, his breathing, his heartbeat, mine.
And then, the entire cavern trembled under Deathwing's powerful roar.
Deathwing roared.
He opened his wings, flapping them while he pulled back with his hips, while his tendrils kept me pinned. They tied me so I wouldn’t be pulled along with his penis as it slipped out, each ridge prodding my sphincter and titillating it in a way that… Was pleasant.
Oh, so pleasant. My heart throbbed inside my chest as I was discovering myself through Deathwing and through that magic.
And then, when that tapered tip was about to leave my orifice. Deathwing plunged back.
The rock and earth beneath us broke, leaving a crater from the hit.
My bones and body endured as the elements around me were breaking apart: Deathwing beating wings eroded the stones by the sheer wind they produced. The stone shattered beneath us and melted as his heat was suffusing it.
And me? I was not even maimed or hindered. Not a scar, not a burn, nothing.
Only the fulfilling and enthralling sensation as Deathwing's hips rocked my body, beginning what was a slow back and forth that made my guts slush with all the fluids that had been forced within.
My belly, already bulging from the fluids, bulged even further until it went round.
No, even my entire chest was going round, adapting to the volume inside me. My scales stretched, and more grew in replacement, stimulated by the void that had been infused within me.
Breathing was harder, but somehow, with each coming breath and the incoming pressure, I felt I needed less air than before. My breaths were shallow, but my lungs wouldn’t burn.
And then… The rocking grew in a crescendo. Deathwing’s powerful body slammed against mine with enough strength to break the hostile surroundings.
Lava fonts came forth, spires fell… The elemental life stirred and fled, allowing me to witness their existence as they fled me.
I gargled a sentence, but no words came out. Only a saliva that was glowing red as it dripped from my lips onto the floor.
And then…
Then Deathwing roared.
His hips smacked against mine. His penis plunged faster within me to the point I could sense the tapered tip hitting my guts from within, bulging them. Imprinting the shape of that organ before it disappeared and reappeared somewhere else.
I… I had already ejaculated, lost in the pleasure that was of my branded prostate. I came, though it was almost an afterthought, and it must have happened before the elementals fled.
However… It was nothing.
Nothing compared to the tidal flood Deathwing unleashed.
My Master’s breathing was faster, and his growl deeper. He craned his neck, his jaw clenching… Before he roared once more.
A clamor. A dare to anyone currently in Deepholm. That was.
A defy as he spread his wings and flapped them, fire spewing out of his mouth while… He ejaculated within me. And if his precum was warm and comparable to lava, Deathwing’s semen was… closer to magma.
It was denser, heavier, and as it was pumped inside me with an unmistakable strength, it forced a flow. My belly couldn’t adjust anymore; I was at the limit. And my sphincter had been stretched to the limit, unable to accept any oozing, even from the smallest of droplets.
Lest something as dense and rigid as Deathwing’s semen.
This realization struck me at the same time I tasted that saltiness in my saliva, one that became overbearing compared to the other flavors. I coughed, forced by old reflexes and the pain in my esophagus.
I wouldn’t know, but a moment later, I coughed up the fluid that had been pumped inside me, the precum.
But Deathwing’s ejaculation was far from stopping as he kept defying the world and flapping his wings. No. His semen flowed within me.
And in such a volume, it chased away all the precum I had inside. I coughed it up, spat it out, threw it up. And then… It was his semen I tasted, much denser, much more iodine, much stickier to my palate as I glanced at him with pleading eyes.
He could see the glowing semen dripping from my lips, and then he smiled. Chuckled.
“You are making an adequate consort,” he said, as he pulled back while keeping me tied by the tendrils… Before releasing me, leaving my limp body to drop on the floor for all the watching cultists to approach.
“Prepare him for another breeding. I must have my brood. Now.”-
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