The Dragon Tusk did not operate in a vacuum. Word of their conquering of the Green Claw had spread to the other tribes, who were not eager to sit idly by and wait until their own gates were being knocked down. As much as the idea galled them, a truce was in order.

Being the smaller of the tribes, and therefor understanding all too well the power numbers held, the Razor Tail and Small Fang were the first to act. Amusingly enough, their respective emissaries met one another while they were both travelling to the other’s tribe, both carrying requests for a meeting of their leaders. Such circumstances made negotiations quite easy, and the threat of an invasion on the horizon lit a fire under their tails besides.

While the Small Fang’s emissary to the Red Eye had yet to return, both tribes agreed the gravity of the situation demanded they convene immediately. They decided that the meeting would be carried out the very next day, where they’d gather and await the arrival of the emissary. If he returned bearing good news, then they’d be able to arrange to meet again when the leaders of the Red Eye were able to attend. Otherwise, action would need to be taken regardless, and things would proceed without them.

As such, the higher ups of both the Razor Tail and Small Fang had gathered in the latter’s longhouse, awaiting the emissary’s return. The traditional greetings and pleasantries done during any meeting between tribes were performed, but they were short almost to the point of being almost strained. The severity of the situation had cast a thick shroud of tension over all of them, and it was practically all they could do to remain silent and not snap at each other. The only sound in the longhouse was that of measured breathing and tapping claws.

The emissary was only expected to arrive midway through the afternoon, but both tribes hoped at least some progress could be made on a plan in the interim. Instead, they were interrupted by said emissary barging into the longhouse before it was even midday.

“The Red Eyes have fallen,” he said, speaking between pants as he staggered into the room and slumped against the side of the doorway. Considering the impressive stamina of the Small Fang’s runners, his exhaustion likely meant he’d been running all morning, if not through the night. “Dragon Tusk. Whole tribe enslaved. All is lost.”

With that, he slid down the side of the doorway until he was sitting on the ground, then flopped onto his back unconscious. One of the guards moved to drag him out of the longhouse while the joint council of the tribes sat there, the shock of his announcement still sinking in.

The head hunter of the Small Fang was the first to break the silence. “We have no choice but to launch an immediate attack.”

The head warrior of the Razor Tail let out a scoff. “You and what army? With his new acquisitions, the Dragon Tusk easily has enough manpower to slaughter any force we care to muster.”

“They’re still going to be regathering their strength after their attack on the Red Eye. This is the most opportune time!”

“Timing isn’t everything,” the elder of the Razor Tail cut in. “Without the aid of the Red Eye, all a direct assault will serve to do is draw their ire. We need allies.”

“And where do you propose we get them?” the head hunter snarled, whirling on him. “The toadmen? Nobody is going to help us, and the Dragon Tusk grow stronger with every passing moment!”

“All I’m saying is that perhaps you should think before your actions bring death to both our tribes,” the elder said, speaking in a tone of annoyance to match the head hunter’s anger. It only served to agitate things further; the head hunter stood up from his chair and hissed at the other tribe’s elder, looking as if he was about to tackle him and rip his throat out right there.

The sound of a throat being cleared put a stop to the budding violence. It had come from Sukyu Juju, chieftain of the Small Fang. “If you’d stop your bickering for a moment, I believe I have a plan.”

The Small Fang’s head hunter anger subsisted for a moment longer, but even he dared not contradict his own chieftain. He sat back down onto his chair, crossing his arms and sulking in his seat.

Sukyu turned his attention away from him and back towards the rest of the council, who were staring at him with a mixture of suspicion and interest. “You’re all aware of the dependence the Dragon Tusk has on their chieftain, correct?”

“All tribes depend on their chieftain,” the Razor Tail elder said.

“True, but the Dragon Tusk are a special case. Their leadership rests solely in their chieftain, with only the bare minimum of delegation.

“No other tribe has such concentration of power within one individual. The Red Eye lost two chieftains within two years of one another and managed to persist.”

“Like they’re doing now?” the Razor Tail elder said, smug condescension thick in his voice.

Sukyu shot him a harsh glare. “Point taken, but it only reinforces my own. Take out the chieftain, and the tribe will fall, or at least be weakened enough for us to have a fair shot.”

The elder let out a huff, but gave him a slight nod, conceding his point. The elder from Sukyu’s own tribe spoke up. “That’s well and good, chieftain, but how do you propose we do that? Zenberu doesn’t leave his village without a full complement of men behind him.”

“I’m glad you asked,” Sukyu said. “Zenberu is a violent, aggressive man, as has been well demonstrated, but he’s also an honourable one. He’s enamoured with the idea of dueling for power. All we need to do is challenge him.”

The atmosphere of the room immediately soured, with most of the lizardmen at the table looking away awkwardly and refusing to meet Sukyu’s gaze. The Small Fang high priestess was the first to point out the elephant in the room. “Chieftain, with all due respect, perhaps a careful review of your options is in order.”

Sukyu glanced over at her. “You have no faith in my ability to hold my own in fair combat.”

The high priestess squirmed under his gaze, but did nothing to contradict his claim. Sukyu smiled.

“I appreciate your honesty, and agree with you fully. That is why I have no intention of engaging him in fair combat.”

The high priestess met his eyes, awkwardness replaced with curiosity and cautious optimism. “What do you mean?”

Sukyu’s grin widened, and he walked over to where Kyuku Zuzu was sitting, giving him a clap on the back that thumped off his armour. Kyuku grunted in response, but said nothing.

“My plan will require both of our tribes’ best druids,” Sukyu said, “as well as the assistance of your fine chieftain.”

The suspicion of the gathered lizardmen slowly gave way to hope as Sukyu laid out the specifics of his plan. Perhaps it was purely out of desperation, but halfway through the outline he laid out for them, the council was chomping at the bit to give him control over their strongest magicians. 

The only one who seemed uncertain of his plan was the Razor Tail elder, who sat with a grim expression carved into the wrinkles of his face while he listened to Sukyu’s words. He’d lived a great many years, and had seen the rise of Zenberu Gugu to power with his own eyes. He’d seen exactly what the chieftain of the Dragon Tusk was capable of, and he had his doubts that one he still viewed as a headstrong upstart was going to be able to take him down with a handful of druids and the admittedly dull leader of his own tribe.

Still, when he looked around at the rest of the lizardmen gathered there, he could see the twinkles in their eyes. The fiery passion that gave a warrior what he needed to take the fight to the enemy. He’d given them hope. The elder only hoped that would be enough.

---

The plan was implemented with as much haste as it had been concocted. The day after the meeting, Kyuku Zuzu and Sukyu Juju set off for the land of the Dragon Tusk. Thankfully, the Small Fang was the closer of their two tribes to their territory, and they were able to broach their borders by mid-afternoon. The journey had been somewhat taxing, but spirits were high regardless. Sukyu’s were, at any rate—Kyuku coasted along on the all-pervasive calm that came with his rather unique mental situation. 

By the time the sun was hanging low in the sky and bathing everything in its burning orange glow, they’d reached the gates of the Dragon Tusk village. They stood just outside it, close enough to see the warriors and slaves moving about within, but just far enough away that they couldn’t be spotted. Their last moment of respite before things were set into motion.

“Do you remember the plan?” Sukyu said, glancing over to Kyuku. He gave a nod in response, but said nothing. Kyuku might’ve remembered it, but whether or not he fully understood it was questionable. Sukyu would just have to hold out faith that he’d perform his role well enough regardless.

They moved forward towards the gates, pushing through the foliage that was the only thing blocking them from view. Recognition was immediate, and reactions were quick to follow: slaves either stopped and stared at them as they approached or turned tail and ran, while the handful of warriors nearby moved towards them, hostility towards what was clearly an enemy only barely held in check by curiosity as to what business they had invading another tribe’s village so brazenly.

Kyuku, however, was unable to detect the subtle difference between intimidation and immediate threat. He stepped forward, reaching for his spear, but Sukyu laid a hand on his chest and ushered him back. With some reluctance, he released his weapon, standing idle while Sukyu stepped forward towards the group of warriors.

“I am Sukyu Juju, chieftain of the Small Fang,” Sukyu said. “This is Kyuku Zuzu, chieftain of the Razor Tail. We seek an audience with Zenberu Gugu.”

The warriors certainly didn’t seem impressed, glancing up and down his lean frame with a level of respect typically reserved for impudent slaves. For a moment, they seemed ready to disregard his request completely and charge, only for someone to bark orders at them from deeper within the village. They whipped their heads back, their eyes widened, and they quickly moved to the side.

With the way ahead of them clear, both the chieftains could clearly see why. Tromping out from one of the nearby huts was an enormous lizardman, his green scales etched with scars, towering at least a solid head and a half over all of his fellows. He was making a beeline towards them, an expression somewhere between interest and amusement writ across his face.

It was none other than Zenberu Gugu, exactly the one they’d come to see. Sukyu certainly couldn’t complain about the difficulty of arranging a meeting.

“My druids told me someone was approaching the village,” Zenberu said, not even bothering to offer a greeting, “though I expected more of you. Did you think you two were strong enough to take on the entire village by yourselves?”

Sukyu scoffed, staring up into Zenberu’s face as he drew closer. “Hardly. We’ve come here to issue you a challenge for a duel.”

Zenberu let out a huff of air through his nostrils, clearly finding the request more amusing than challenging, though it didn’t sound immediately dismissive. “Let me guess. Our respective tribes will be the stakes?”

“Correct,” Sukyu said, nodding.

Zenberu hummed in thought. “If you’re that eager to throw away the freedom of your people, I won’t stop you. Though, don’t you feel the odds are a little unfair?”

“You may pick whoever you wish as a partner. All four of us will battle at once.”

“If that’s what you wish,” Zenberu said, shrugging. “I was going to say you should have more men on your side. Shasuryu!”

The words had barely left his mouth before a figure burst out of the hut he’d just emerged from. Sukyu and Kyuku turned to look at him, and while Kyuku looked on with the same even look as always, Sukyu’s eyes widened. The newcomer’s scales were a green a shade darker than Zenberu’s, though equally knit with scars. While he didn’t have the stature to rival the one who’d called him, he was still among the tallest there, rivalling even the healthiest warriors. None of those, however, were the reason Sukyu was so shocked.

All of them were aware of the great Shasuryu Shasha, chieftain of the Green Claw tribe. However, none of them had seen him since their invasion by the Dragon Tusk. Now, the once great chieftain was bound up in a rope harness with a collar locked around his neck, clear signs of his ownership. The way he bounded to the side of Zenberu at the sound of his name left little doubt as to who held his leash. The sight of Ice Fang lashed to his hip silently answered the question as to what had come of his brother.

Sukyu recovered quickly. As galling as the sight might’ve been, it didn’t do to dwell on such things. Their entire plan had been crafted to put a stop to such atrocities.

“You’re certain you wish to go through with this?” Zenberu said, flashing Sukyu a grin that revealed all too much of his teeth. “You can still back down. I’d enjoy the opportunity to slaughter a few of your tribemates when I take your land.”

Sukyu’s brow furrowed, then he spat, the glob of saliva landing at Zenberu’s feet. His grin only widened in response.

---

A few minutes later, all four of them were outside of the village, paired up and facing one another while a crowd of lizardmen watched on from inside the gates. They’d chosen the location on Sukyu’s request, when he insisted that they needed an area with flat and even ground for it to be a worthy duel. Zenberu didn’t quite see the point, but was willing to oblige regardless. The outcome would be the same regardless; the lumpiness of the ground didn’t determine your ability to give or take a blow. That kind of thing was only gained through talent and experience, and Zenberu was certain that he had more of that than the wiry little lizard in front of him.

With that, the fight was underway. Most opponents Zenberu faced had a tendency of dragging their feet in the beginning of a duel, waiting for him to show some sort of weakness that they could exploit. He never did, and they always ended up having to throw themselves at him and break themselves upon his defences.

It was a refreshing change when Kyuku didn’t do that. Instead, he sprinted forward towards Zenberu as soon as he was given the go ahead, swinging his spear out in a wide arc. Zenberu jumped back, dodging the initial blow, only for it to be followed up with a jab. He deflected the point of Kyuku’s spear with his bare arms, the point of it glancing off his scales as if he were made of steel.

“Very bold of you,” Zenberu grunted. He charged forward, knocking aside another spear jab with his smaller arm while his other raised itself up into the air, hand clenched into a fist. As soon as he was close enough, it shot forward, connecting directly with Kyuku’s chest with a loud thump.

Kyuku staggered back, bringing his spear up in front of him in a defensive posture, but recovered quickly. Very few men were capable of withstanding a solid hit from Zenberu, but Kyuku seemed none the worse for wear. His armour seemed to be doing its job quite effectively.

Zenberu smirked. He might’ve found a worthy opponent yet.

Sukyu was not having nearly as much luck. While the initial distance between him and Shasuryu had allowed him  to get off a few shots with his sling, all of which connected and some even managed to cause his opponent serious pain, his advantage of range was lost as soon as Shasuryu closed the distance between them. He lunged forward with Ice Fang, intent on skewering Sukyu through the chest, and he only just managed to dodge.

Shasuryu came forward in another attack, this time a slash, and again Sukyu jumped out of the way. His agility was the only thing preventing him from being cut down where he stood, but it didn’t extend to land speed; if he tried to turn tail and run to get some distance to use his sling, all he’d get would be a stab in the back. Trying to mount an attack of his own would give similar results, unused to melee combat as he was. All he could do was dodge, backpedalling, sidestepping, and diving, buying as much time as he could.

As promising an opening as he’d had, Kyuku’s situation wasn’t much better. His armour was enough that he could handle Zenberu’s blows, but his opponent was much more than a simple warrior. He was a monk, and was making good use of his abilities as one: judicious use of Steel Skin ensured that every attack Kyuku landed, glancing or direct, ran off him like rain off a stone. Kyuku was in a safe position, for the moment, but the White Dragon Bone was more effective at stopping edged weaponry than the kind of blunt force Zenberu was using. He could feel the pain of weathering Zenberu’s punches starting to accumulate. If he continued fighting a war of attrition, he was not going to emerge the victor.

Thankfully, he wouldn’t have to. Deciding that enough preparation time had been given, Sukyu decided to enact the second phase of his plan. “Now!”

Shasuryu quirked a brow in confusion, then jerked his head to the side at the sound of rustling from the foliage. Two lizardmen had dropped down from out of the trees, and judging from the painted markings covering their bodies and the shawls they were wearing, they were druids. Zenberu did the same, seeing two more drop down closest to his side.

One of the druids shouted, “[i]Twine Plant![/i]”

At the sound of his words, thick vines suddenly burst up from the ground around the gate, wrapping around the ankles of the spectating warriors. They shouted with surprise and anger, trying to pull away from their grip, but the vines held fast. Shasuryu whipped around, his opponent momentarily forgotten in the chaos. Sukyu took advantage of the opportunity to slam his fast down onto the back of his head, driving the handle of his sling as hard into his skull as he could. It was enough: Shasuryu let out a yelp before dropping to the ground, at least momentarily incapacitated.

Zenberu caught on a touch more quickly, and shoved the approaching Kyuku away as hard as he could before he could take advantage of the situation. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

“Winning this duel,” Sukyu said, moving up next to Kyuku.

“Like hell you are!” Zenberu shouted, charging at him with fists raised.

“[i]Earth Bind![/i]”

The voice of another druid brought chains streaking up from the ground, apparently formed out of the very earth itself. A pair wrapped themselves around his ankles, completely arresting his momentum, before yet more sprang forth and bound his arms. Despite his most fervent efforts to break free, it didn’t take long for him to be completely fettered to the ground. Once he was sure that it was safe, Kyuku strode forward, raising his spear overhead before bringing it down in a powerful swing. The shaft of it slammed into the top of Zenberu’s skull with a painful sounding thock.

Steel Skin, much like the White Dragon Bone, was useful for deflecting pointed or slashing attacks. But in the same vein, it was less useful when it came to blunt trauma. Whatever protection it might’ve offered, it wasn’t enough to keep him from being knocked unconscious. He slumped down in the grip of the chains just before they shattered into chunks of mud, leaving him lying limp on the ground.

The four druids rushed forward, just before the Dragon Tusk’s own druids—all two of them—started funnelling out of the village gates, intent on aiding their chieftain. However, they’d planned for such a contingency. Half of the attacking druids stepped forward, weaving intricate motions with their fingers.

“[i]Magic Shield![/i]”

They splayed out their hands in unison, and a huge concave barrier materialized in front of them, formed of a translucent blue material that shimmered with magical energy. The Dragon Tusk druids flung their spells against it, only for them to dissipate harmlessly upon coming into contact with it, drawing no more than a slight wavering from the barrier. Were there more of them, such a defence likely would’ve presented them with no challenge. Unfortunately, the Dragon Tusk had never been known for their magical prowess.

The remaining druids approached Zenberu, holding a large wooden object between them. It was a set of stocks, built to fit even a lizardman as large as the Dragon Tusk’s chieftain. Though it appeared to be made of wood, it wasn’t anything nearly so mundane, as it was doubtful such a material would be able to hold him even if it were as thick as the tree it’d come from. Rather, its surface was carved with inscriptions that radiated power, holding as much magical energy as the Small Fang and Razor Tail’s combined druids had been able to muster on such short notice.

They were quite certain of its potency: both tribes had tested the stocks on their strongest warriors, and not a single one had been able to gain so much as an inch of freedom. With that faith in mind, they fitted the stock around Zenberu’s neck and lifted his wrists into it before snapping and locking it shut.

Their goal had been accomplished, which left only the matter of escape. Kyuku and Sukyu each grabbed one of Zenberu’s arms and hoisted him up, carrying him towards the treeline. One of the druids rushed ahead, extending a hand out in front of him and calling out the words “[i]Woodland Stride[/i].” The trees and plants parted before him like they were nothing but water in response, opening a path for them that led deep into the woods.

Once the four of them had pierced the treeline, the two druids left behind dropped their shield, letting it dissipate into thin air. They sprinted to join the rest of their company, spinning around and casting one last spell as soon once they’d entered the protection of the woods.

“[i]Grow Plant![/i]”

The two Dragon Tusk druids moved to pursue them, shortly followed by the warriors once the vines holding them down finally receded into the ground, but it was too late. Thick trees and foliage grew to fill in the space they’d cleared with Woodland Stride, ringing with traces of druidic magic that the Dragon Tusk druids found their own spells unable to overcome. By the time they’d managed to carve an alternate path into the woods, the group had disappeared into the wilderness without so much as a footprint for them to follow.

---

Perhaps half an hour had passed since the initial capture. That brief assault, combined with the additional spells necessary to keep them moving through the forest—they certainly wouldn’t have been able to carry someone as big and heavy as Zenberu through the thicket without some form of magical assistance—had drained the four druids of their spells. Thankfully, their remaining power had at least been enough for them to to break through into a more thinly wooded area.

However, given that the druids had become something of a liability with their lack of magical power, they’d been given a new role to fill. Claiming it necessary to watch out for anyone trying to ambush them on their journey back to Small Fang lands, Sukyu had taken Kyuku and positioned himself at the head of the group. Which meant that the task of carrying the unconscious Zenberu had fallen to the four druids.

They took it in shifts, carrying him from under the arms and swapping people out whenever someone looked like they were about to collapse under his weight. It was gruelling work, but they managed. After all, they weren’t in any position to contradict their chieftains, so they had little choice.

The journey up to that point had been silent, nobody daring to speak until they were a suitable distance away from Dragon Tusk territory, but most of them considered a half-hour’s journey far enough away to be considered safe. The tension that’d been hanging over them broke, giving way to relief and celebration as it finally started to sink in. They’d done it, captured Zenberu; their plan had worked! The druids chatted happily among themselves, bleeding off excitement while trying their best to cope with the struggle of supporting their captive. Sukyu tried doing the same with Kyuku near the front, though the Razor Tail chieftain wasn’t much for conversation. He seemed pleased enough regardless, though.

But unconsciousness could only last so long, and a half-hour was already pushing the limits of what a blow to the he ad could accomplish. Zenberu groaned as awareness trickled back into his mind, trying to blink away the fogginess from his eyes. His last memories were of being in a duel, but he didn’t remember killing anyone, and he certainly didn’t seem to be dead. That meant something was very wrong. There didn’t seem to be any immediate danger, though, so he took a minute to gather himself and recoup his senses before acting.

He was surrounded by forests, but the land wasn’t familiar enough to be the woods surrounding the village, which meant someone had moved him. Was moving him—he was in motion, carried along by lizardmen to his left and right. There was the feeling of rough wood surrounding his neck and wrists.

Ah, he was a captive. Squinting, he could see the forms of Kyuku Zuzu and Sukyu Juju several metres ahead. It started to come back to him exactly how he’d gotten into this situation. The duel, followed by the ambush and magical assault. Yes, he remembered all of it quite clearly now.

Some people thought of Zenberu Gugu as an angry man, simply because he was strong and prone to violence. That wasn’t the case. He enjoyed fighting and killing, but there typically wasn’t any anger behind it; it was simply another way of entertainment or displaying strength, and it was rare that he held any disdain for those he fought. It was why he was able to maintain his status as such an honourable opponent. He simply didn’t hate anyone enough to use any shady tactics against them.

But the fact that someone had played upon that and used it to stab him in the back, to try to con him out of a legitimate fight with underhanded tactics, that was a different matter. Zenberu hated that. That was something that made Zenberu want to fight in an entirely different way than usual. He wanted to take the ones who’d done this to him and rip their limbs off, then beat them to death with them. He wanted to rip open their guts and strangle them with their own intestines.

To put it bluntly, it made him very angry.

He tried to jerk his hands away, but as expected, the stocks held them in place. Zenberu wasn’t the most magically sensitive individual, but even he could feel the energy boiling off of them, could practically smell it. He’d never particularly cared for magic. While he understood its utility, his tribe had gotten along with only a handful of druids for years on end, and they’d never struggled. He was of the opinion that anything that could be done with magic could be done just as effectively with the strength of one’s own hands, and damned if he was going to let a hunk of wood prove him wrong on that.

Zenberu let out a strained grunt as he started pulling his arms apart, trying to pry his way out of the stocks. His muscles tensed and flexed with the effort he was exerting, biceps going hard as steel in the grip of the two druids carrying him. Such a display did not go unnoticed, and they looked up at him with nervous, fearful expressions, their confidence in the magical restraints they’d fashioned clearly coming into question.

“Chieftain?” one of the Small Fang druids called out. “Zenberu’s woken up. He’s trying to break free.”

Sukyu looked back at him, flashing a glance at Zenberu struggling to pry himself free, and gave the druid a quick smile before turning his attention back to the path in front of him. “We tested those restraints. Even Kyuku couldn’t get out of them. Quit worrying so much.”

Sukyu was right: they’d tried them on Kyuku, the head warriors of both of their tribes, and any other lizardman who cared to try their strength against them. Not a single one of them came even close to overpowering the powerful abjuration magic laid within the stocks.

It was just a shame that they hadn’t been able to test it on Zenberu.

It all happened over the course of a few seconds. The sound of creaking wood. A short, sharp pop, like that of an exploding coal. Then, the stocks ripped open as easily as if they were made of paper, freeing Zenberu’s hands. The remnants of the stocks were still wrapped around his neck, the engravings on them having gone dim, all magical energy that might’ve been present in them freed by the breaking of the wood.

The druids had exactly enough time to scream before Zenberu was on them. He drove his elbow into the face of the one on his right, diving it hard enough into his snout to crack bone and send him tumbling to the forest floor with blood gushing from his nose. Zenberu took advantage of the space that gave him to drive a fist into the throat of the one on his left, feeling the druid’s trachea give way and collapse under the force of his blow. The lizardman staggered back into the trunk of a tree, sliding down it while gripping at his throat, trying in vain to suck in a breath.

The last two were frozen to the spot, looking up in fear as Zenberu approached them. He grabbed them by the heads and slammed their skulls together hard enough to knock them unconscious, then let them drop to the ground before turning his attention to the chieftains ahead of him.

Both of them stared at him as he approached, unsure of exactly what to do. Zenberu had already proven his worth in combat, and that’d been when he was calm and under the impression that he was in no real danger. Now, he was mad. More than mad: downright furious, angrier than either of them had ever seen a lizardman before. The sight was as paralyzing as that of a charging bear.

Fortunately, Sukyu didn’t have to think about it for too long. He was the closest to Zenberu, which meant that he was the first to be dealt with. Zenberu didn’t stop to fight him or even spare him more than a quick glance, just slammed his fist into the lizardman’s face in passing. There was enough power in the blow to fling him through the air and slam him into the trunk of a nearby tree. He bounced off it and landed face-down in the grass, quiet and still except for a weak twitch of his tail.

Kyuku was quicker to respond. He brought up his spear in an attempt to defend himself, but Zenberu just grabbed it by the blade and wrenched it out of his hands, tossing it over his shoulder. Then, when Kyuku tried to throw a punch, Zenberu caught his fist out of the air and wrapped a hand around his wrist.

Kyuku had always considered himself to be a strong individual, but even he was incapable of doing what Zenberu did. Zenberu jerked him up by the wrist into the air with all the ease of a child playing with a toy, then swung him like he was nothing more than a sack of potatoes. The side of his body slammed against a tree, the force of the swing causing him to wrap around it like a cloth tossed onto a table. His armour was a marvel, capable of protecting against any number of weapons, but it was not built to resist being slammed against a tree. Zenberu’s hand released his wrist, and he peeled off of the tree and tumbled to the ground in a quivering heap.

“You smooth scaled coward,” Zenberu growled, standing over Kyuku’s body and staring down at him. “Trying to kill me is one thing, but trying to capture me with trickery and deceit?”

Zenberu leaned down, grabbing a hold of Kyuku by the jaw and staring into his eyes. “You disgust me. I’d kill you, but even a quick death is too honourable for the likes of you. I’ll...”

Zenberu paused, looking into Kyuku’s face and seeing the blank stare he was getting in response. He’d hit him pretty hard, to be sure, but his eyes didn’t have the dazed look that came from getting whacked in the head. It was more a kind of empty, vacant expression, as if he didn’t have anything going on in that bone-plated skull of his.

It was then that what he’d been told about the Razor Tail began to return to him. Specifically, their tribe’s magical artifact, the White Dragon Bone Armour and its intelligence draining properties. He huffed a breath through his nostrils.

“You weren’t the one behind this, were you?” Zenberu said, releasing Kyuku’s face and looking down at him with something that was close to being pity, but was mixed with an equal amount of righteous indignation. “No, too complex for someone simple as you. They just brought you along for the ride.

“Still, you played a part in this treachery.” Zenberu took a few steps closer to Kyuku until he was standing over top of him, leering down at the incapacitated lizardman with an aura of menace. “And for that, you deserve punishment.”

Zenberu reached down and grabbed a hold of his loincloth, ripping it off in one smooth motion, and Kyuku was greeted to a sight that even his magically crippled mind was able to recognize: Zenberu’s cock, easily twice as thick as his own and matching him inch for inch in length. Considering it was only halfway out of his slit and continuing to pour out at a rapid rate, it was safe to say that the hulking lizardman was the most endowed male Kyuku had ever laid eyes on, and he could feel primal fear licking at his heart when he recognized the gleam of interest in the chieftain’s eyes.

“A good fight always gets my blood pumping,” Zenberu said, reaching down and wrapping a hand around the base of his cock, squeezing and coaxing it out further from his slit. “Even worse, lately. Perhaps too many of my fights have been followed by festivities.”

He smirked and took a moment to enjoy the fear in Kyuku’s eyes, one of the first signs of emotion he’d seen out of the lizardman since he started speaking. Then, he dropped down to his knees, hands moving from his cock to Kyuku’s armour in an attempt to pry it off. Kyuku, with an uncharacteristic understanding of what was about to happen, began jerking and thrashing in an attempt to escape.

Zenberu growled, pushing Kyuku back against the trunk of the tree. One hand remained on his chest to hold him there while the other moved to the top of his head, a palm nearly as big as his face wrapping around the front of his helmet.

“Stop squirming,” Zenberu snapped, slamming Kyuku head back against the tree as hard as he could. Without the helmet, his skull would probably be wrapped around its trunk, but its powerful magics were hard at work protecting what little functional brain matter he had left. Still, the force of the blow was enough that when he opened his eyes, he could only see blackness. He let out a long, painful groan, stars sparkling in his eyes as his vision slowly returned to him.

While he was recovering, Zenberu was hard at work, claws roaming across his body and ripping open the straps keeping his armor on. Removing it wasn’t too much of a challenge: it might’ve been secured to Kyuku as tight as a second skin, but it had to come off somehow, and Zenberu had more than enough motivation to find out how. Besides, he was only interested in removing one particular piece, and Kyuku’s ragdoll-like condition was proving quite conducive to his efforts.

Eventually, he had it. The chest piece of the White Dragon Bone armour slid free from the rest of the set, and Zenberu slid it up and over Kyuku’s head. He didn’t even spare it a second glance before tossing it back over his shoulder where it bounced off a tree and landed in the underbrush, already forgotten. Zenberu’s attention was captured by far more important matters.

His eyes wandered across Kyuku’s bare chest. The musculature was obvious, if not quite as impressive as his own. Zenberu reached forward, grabbing Kyuku’s pecs, squeezing down on it and feeling the firmness of the flesh there. His fingers slid lower down, moving across his abs, feeling them tense up hard as steel under his touch. Yes, definitely a strong warrior, one that would be well respected if he was a member of his own tribe. That was why he’d picked him and not Sukyu. He wouldn’t want to do any of what he was about to do with a weaker specimen.

His hand wandered even further down his front until it was between Kyuku’s legs, palm pressed against the line of his slit. Zenberu could feel the heat radiating off it, a sure sign of the lizardman’s fertility, and he let off a pleased churr. If he was going to do this, he didn’t want to take any half measures. He wanted someone who would be worthy as a mate in his own right, even if what they were doing wasn’t mating in the most traditional sense of the word.

All that line of thought did was excite him to go further. Eager to get things going, he pulled his hand back, removing his palm from Kyuku’s slit and replacing it with a probing finger.

Kyuku jolted at the sensation of his body being invaded. Zenberu wasn’t showing any regard for his comfort, moving with callous yet practised motions that were more reminiscent of an animal breeder than anything resembling a sexual partner. Zenberu slid his finger up to the first knuckle in his initial penetration and, seeing that he was receptive to more, shoved it all the way in until Kyuku could feel his palm butting up against the lips of his slit. He whined, whimpering and squirming in discomfort at the finger buried inside him.

Zenberu chuckled, this time amused rather than aggravated by Kyuku’s feeble attempts at resistance, but still shoved him back against the tree trunk hard enough to knock the wind out of him as a reward for his troubles. “Stay put,” Zenberu said, imparting as much of a warning tone to his words as his amusement would permit. Another finger joined the first, plunging as deep into his slit as it could go in one forceful motion.

Kyuku squealed, lashing out with his legs and kicking up clumps of sod as Zenberu’s fingers plunged in and out of him with a level of speed and force that would be uncomfortable even for a woman, let alone a male completely unused to having anything inside his slit. Yet despite the violation, Kyuku’s body was responding. Zenberu could feel his fingertips glance across something deep in Kyuku’s slit, something firm and warm that was pressing out against him. Kyuku felt it, too, and let out a panicked hiss. He brought his knee up sharply, slamming it into Zenberu’s side.

Zenberu grunted at the blow, but otherwise, he seemed unaffected. Physically, anyway. When Kyuku saw his face contort with just a fraction of the rage he’d seen the chieftain burning with during the fight, he began to realise the magnitude of his mistake.

But Zenberu didn’t hit him back. Instead, he dropped down to his stomach, leaving his face between Kyuku’s legs and the other lizardman’s tail pinned under his body. His hands shot out, grabbing Kyuku’s legs just under the knees and holding them there, spreading them wide enough that he could feel them aching and burning with the strain. The new position left him even more vulnerable and exposed than before, and Zenberu took advantage of that, pushing his snout forward until it was mere inches away from his victim’s slit. His nostrils flared and he licked his lips, while Kyuku watched on with a look of fear.

That expression was immediately twisted into one of tortured pleasure as Zenberu pushed his muzzle forward until his lips were pressed flush against Kyuku’s groin. His tongue followed suit, plunging into Kyuku’s slit along the path his fingers had carved. If Kyuku had held any hope that his mouth would be gentler than his fingers, it’d been thoroughly dashed—his tongue was thicker, lashing even more violently at his insides, and he could feel the sharp press of teeth against his scales. When Zenberu got particularly rowdy, one would occasionally nip at the lip of his slit, sending a jolt through him and making him hope desperately that Zenberu wouldn’t go any further than that.

Zenberu, on the other hand, was getting exactly what he wanted. The taste was different than he was used to, given this was his first time ever pleasing another man with his mouth, but it wasn’t bad. The flavour of male musk choked his taste buds the minute his tongue dipped inside Kyuku’s slit, filling his mouth and seeping up into his nostrils until it was all he could smell or taste. It was overpowering and unfamiliar, but not unpalatable, and Zenberu could feel his cock throb at the taste.

The sensations might’ve felt wrong and utterly alien to Kyuku, but his body was reacting to it regardless. Zenberu’s tongue, lapping and probing ever deeper inside him, glanced across that same firm mass from earlier, pushing out from deep inside Kyuku’s slit. Zenberu let out a pleased grunt, swirling the tip of his tongue along it, feeling it throb against him in response. It was exactly what he was looking for, but not quite where he wanted it to be. Zenberu, not known for his patience, decided to hurry things along.

Kyuku’s jaw had been clenched shut as he tried to weather the feeling of a tongue licking inside something he’d never even dreamed of being used as an entrance, only for his mouth to be forced open in a gasp as that sensation was doubled. One of Zenberu’s hands had left its position on his thigh and moved under his chin, where his fingers were stroking against the base of Kyuku’s tail. He didn’t even have a second to register what that indicated before pressure was building behind them, mounting against the tight ring of his tailhole.

By the time the air Kyuku had gasped left him in the form of a hiss, two fingers had already forced themselves inside him, sliding along on a slick layer of the secretions from his slit. They drilled into him with all the same unfeeling vigour as before, only now, they moved with a sense of purpose. This wasn’t wild flailing in an attempt to stimulate him as much as possible; they were looking for something, pushing deeper and pressing against the walls of his insides in search of it.

He discovered what it was at the same time as Zenberu found it. Those fingertips brushed against something hard inside him, about the size of a walnut and located vaguely behind his slit. Even that fleeting contact was enough to send a shock of pleasure shooting through Kyuku’s body, rocketing up his spine and bringing a visible shudder along with it. Exactly what Zenberu had wanted. A grin spreading across his face that was masked by the slit pressed against his lips, he locked his fingers onto that spot and pressed down, rubbing in short, fast circles.

Kyuku let out a warbling moan that was high enough to border on a shriek. As if being the first to do anything with his slit wasn’t enough, Zenberu was now claiming the title as the first to have done anything with Kyuku’s ass. What was worse was how effective it was. It wasn’t clear whether Zenberu had any skill in what he was doing or if Kyuku was just particularly sensitive in that area, but whatever the case, that finger felt almost magical in its efficacy—sex might’ve been the last thing on his mind, but trying to keep himself in his slit was as futile as mortaring water.

Zenberu let out a mean-spirited chuckle when he felt Kyuku’s cock sliding out further despite his whimpering protests, pressing against his tongue. He continually retracted his tongue as Kyuku grew out of his slit, though he made sure to stay close enough that he could deliver swirling licks to his head all along the way. With that finger pressing unceasingly against that pleasure button deep inside him, it didn’t take long for the inevitable to finally happen: Kyuku’s cock emerged, its tip poking out from between the lips of his slit.

That was the point of no return. Zenberu seized on the opportunity to start sucking proper, running his tongue up and down along Kyuku’s urethra and swirling it around his cockhead. His body took to the more traditional stimulation like a fish to water. Kyuku’s dick practically poured out of him, and every inch that emerged from his slit was just more that Zenberu could stimulate, a vicious cycle of unwilling pleasure. It was hardly an enjoyable experience. Even if Kyuku had been willing to embrace what Zenberu was doing to him—and he was still miles away from that, even if he didn’t see any way he could resist—the brute still occasionally nicked him with a fang, or even went as far as pressing his teeth into Kyuku’s shaft just short of truly biting, making sure he knew exactly who was in charge of the situation.

But despite the pain, unspoken threats, and complete lack of control, Kyuku still found himself swelling more and more until his dick was was erect and throbbing in Zenberu’s maw. Zenberu had needed to pull off a few inches to avoid it sliding down into his throat, meaning he couldn’t give Kyuku’s knot too much attention, but he wrapped a hand around it and made sure to squeeze and tug on it regularly. Occasionally, he’d let his tongue slip out far enough to deliver a lick to its underside. And of course the finger in Kyuku’s ass had never stopped its dreadful work, dutifully pressing against that spot inside him. Its efforts milked a spurt of pre from his cock that Zenberu quickly swallowed down, letting off a pleased hum afterwards. Apparently, he liked the taste.

Yet as entertaining as it’d been, Zenberu had buried his face between Kyuku’s thighs for a purpose, and that purpose had now been fulfilled. With the slightest reluctance, he tugged his fingers free from Kyuku’s tailhole and pulled off of his cock, letting it slip free from his lips with a pop. The sight of a defeated foe lying naked and erect before him, combined with the knowledge that it’d been him who’d done it, was more satisfying than Zenberu would’ve thought. There was no question as to his dominance in the situation; it was simply a different form of power. One that certainly seemed to be to his liking. He’d have to explore it further.

Zenberu rose to his feet, standing over Kyuku once more. “You know,” Zenberu said, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from his muzzle, “this seems like the perfect opportunity for me to try something.”

Without warning, Zenberu dropped down into a squat, and Kyuku couldn’t help but wince and shrink back against the tree he was lying against. Zenberu laughed, then reached underneath himself with a hand and grabbed Kyuku’s cock just underneath the knot, angling it so it pointed straight up.

“After all, it isn’t like you’ll be able to tell anyone about this, right?”

Zenberu glanced at Kyuku’s face, just in case there was some hint of comprehension there, but there was only fear and the dimmest understanding of what was about to happen. Just the kind of response he’d been looking for. He leaned back slightly, lifting his tail up high, and couldn’t help but jolt slightly as he got what he was after: the head of Kyuku’s cock, warm and wet, pressing against the virgin ring of his asshole.

Just like Kyuku, Zenberu was a complete stranger to actually inserting anything back there. It was just so much easier to just do things the traditional way, to mate with women and the occasional male you’d bested as a show of power, that he hadn’t even considered it. If he hadn’t seen how much of a liking Shasuryu had taken to it, the thought wouldn’t have even crossed his mind. If he hadn’t been completely secure in his masculinity, he certainly wouldn’t have entertained the thought of participating in such a thing himself.

But here he was, standing on the precipice with another lizardman’s manhood pressing against his tailhole. It throbbed against him, precum drooling against him and running down along the bulge of his taint. The whole thing seemed irreversible, a decision he’d never be able to undo if he went through with it.

If there was one trait Zenberu didn’t possess, though, it was hesitance.

Zenberu slammed himself down, sinking every inch of Kyuku’s cock inside of him in one stroke, and found himself unable to suppress a groan. He hadn’t gone into things planning for it to be painful, but at the same time, he hadn’t expected just how good it was going to feel. His tail thumped against the ground, slapping into Kyuku’s own in the process.

“Ngh,” Zenberu moaned, biting his lip to stifle it. “I’d never thought...”

His words trailed off as his eyes wandered down to his dick, jutting out from between his legs. It was harder than he’d ever felt it before, barring when he’d actually mated someone. Hell, it was even equal to that—apparently, his body took to playing the woman as well as it did to penetrating one.

He reached a hand down between his thighs, wrapping his hand around his knot and giving it a squeeze. It jumped in his hand, throbbing and spewing a wad of precum onto Kyuku’s chest. His ass tightened at the sensation, clenching around the smaller lizardman’s cock hard enough to draw both a groan and a spurt of pre out of him. Zenberu could feel it shoot inside him, its wet warmth coating his insides. It felt good. He wanted more of it.

Acting before Kyuku could do anything to ruin his fun, Zenberu grabbed the other male by the wrists and pinned them to the ground, claws poking threateningly against his forearms. Once he was sure that he wouldn’t be able to squirm enough to offer any form of serious resistance, Zenberu raised his hips, lifting himself up until only the head of Kyuku’s cock remained inside him. Then, he slammed himself down, letting out a moan of pleasure powerful enough to have his tongue dangling from his mouth.

Kyuku, for his part, was not having nearly as good a time. While the tightness around his cock felt good—and it was definitely tight, Zenberu gripped him far harder than any woman he’d even been with—Zenberu was not a gentle lover. Every time he came down, he did so with all his strength, hungry for more of the feelings Kyuku’s manhood was sending through his body. All the force of the larger lizardman’s bounces had to go somewhere, and that place was him. Each time Zenberu came down, his weight dropped down onto Kyuku’s pelvis with almost bone crushing force, sending waves of pain through his body that only got worse with each repetition.

But Zenberu didn’t care about how the lizardman underneath him felt, only about how he felt, and he felt great. Every bounce brought his dick slapping down against Kyuku’s stomach, a steady stream of precum leaking out of him and drooling down across his abs. Zenberu could feel his knot threatening to swell without anything even touching it. He simply couldn’t get enough of it. Each slam of his hips brought a splatter of fluids where his ass met Kyuku’s groin, beads of precum flecked across their bodies, their shine mirrored by the drool trickling out of the corners of Zenberu’s mouth.

The only thing that could possibly threaten Zenberu’s enjoyment was the one thing he thought he had the most control over. If he’d paid attention to the lizardman beneath him, perhaps he would’ve noticed Kyuku’s breathing getting faster, or the way his squirming had taken on a note of desperation. He’d certainly noticed his knot swelling, but Zenberu’s mind didn’t catch on to what that meant, far too occupied with the wonderful sensations of working it in and out of his hole over and over. It getting bigger only made it feel even more intense, distracting him further.

Which is why it came as such a surprise when the inevitable finally struck. Zenberu dropped down, forcing that now delightfully thick knot once more under his tail. He was about to lift himself back up when Kyuku stopped his gasping, whining, and whimpering, instead letting out a moan that was loud enough to catch even Zenberu off guard. Then, that knot started to balloon inside him, stretching him wide in an entirely new way.

Zenberu let out a moan of his own, grinding himself against Kyuku, his own cock pulsing and throbbing at the tugging and shifting of that knot inside him. He knew what was coming next, and he wanted it, needed it almost more than he needed his own release. Claws gripping Kyuku’s wrists hard enough to draw blood, Zenberu clenched down on the lizardman’s shaft, milking it with his insides...

Until, with a sharp hiss of pleasure, Kyuku came. His knot reached its widest point yet, locking the two together at the hip and pulsing with an almost violent intensity as the first jet of his seed exploded out of him. Zenberu could feel it shoot into his insides, its heat working deep into his guts, and he let out a croon of pleasure. His eyes slipped closed, cock drooling an endless stream of pre onto Kyuku’s belly while his ass wrung every last drop of seed out of Kyuku that it could.

And damn if there wasn’t a lot of it; Kyuku’s orgasm seemed to wind on for ages. Zenberu didn’t know if the lizardman was particularly potent or if he’d just been going through a dry spell, but whatever the case, the result was the same. Even with the seal of the knot plugging him up, he could feel wetness leaking down the base of his tail midway through, increasing with every additional spurt of cum Kyuku shot into him.

By the time he’d finished, there was enough that Zenberu could feel the liquid weight of it sitting inside him, with an equal amount splattered under his tail and across Kyuku’s thighs. Yet even though the whole experience had left his cock soaked with his own pre, it hadn’t quite been enough to push him over the edge.

Zenberu reached down, gingerly wrapping a hand around his shaft. It throbbed hard enough to make him shudder, his knot bulging. If he so much as squeezed down, it’d probably be enough to finish him off. He could imagine it, the sounds of him crying out in pleasure, spurting at the slightest touch while packed full of the seed of his enemy.

The thought was tempting, but there’d been two elements at play in the attack, and he wasn’t going to stop until he’d addressed them both. Besides, he hadn’t even finished with the punishment of the one underneath him.

Zenberu tried to raise himself up, and felt Kyuku’s knot tugging against him, unwilling to slip out of him so easily. Just the attempt made the cock lodged inside him pulse hard enough that he could feel it inside him, sending a wave of pleasure through him that had him gritting his teeth with his cock throbbing dangerously between his legs. The whole thing was accompanied by a gasp from Kyuku, who apparently felt quite similarly.

But that wasn’t going to be enough to convince Zenberu to stay put. He tried again, this time harder, and got better results. His tailhole started to spread open again, stretching wide around Kyuku’s surprisingly large knot—gods, he’d never realised just how large those things got until he had to feel one splitting him open as it was yanked out of him. It seemed to get bigger and bigger, enough to make even a hardened warrior like Zenberu wince...

Until, over the course of a single second, it came out of him. Once it’d reached its widest point, his body’s attempts to keep it inside of him switched over to an effort to push it out, and it popped out of him near instantly. The rest of Kyuku’s shaft, thin in comparison to the swollen fist that was his knot, was quick to follow. It slid came out of him with a wet schlorp, and all the seed that’d been sealed inside him was instead gushing out of him, leaking down along his tail and down his thighs.

Zenberu let out an irritated rumble. As nice as it’d been to have it pumped into him, all that cum running out of him and dripping all over his backside was markedly less enjoyable. Thankfully, he had the perfect plan on how to take care of that mild inconvenience.

He shot out a hand towards Kyuku’s face. The lizardman flinched, expecting a blow that’d send his head spinning, but it never came. When he reopened his eyes, he saw Zenberu’s fingers gripped around the front of his helmet, his other hand bracing itself against his shoulder. Kyuku didn’t have a second to react before Zenberu wrenched his arm back, ripping the helmet’s straps open and wrenching the whole thing off of his face. He tossed it over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at it or where it landed.

By the time Kyuku had time to blink and register what had just happened, Zenberu had moved again. A bead of liquid dropped onto his snout. Kyuku’s first thought, a testament to either a strange sort of innocence or a complete lack of awareness, was whether it’d begun to rain.

It wasn’t rain, but it certainly was a storm. Glancing up, Kyuku wasn’t greeted to the sight of rain clouds, but a worm’s-eye view of Zenberu. Another drop of his cum dripped out of the larger lizardman’s asshole, splattering across his cheek. Zenberu dropped down, his tail draping over the top of Kyuku’s head and his ass cheeks enveloping his muzzle as he turned his defeated opponent’s face into a seat.

“Clean up your mess,” Zenberu said, and Kyuku felt fresh sensation between his legs. This time, though, it wasn’t even remotely pleasant: clawed fingers gripped around his spent cock, squeezing it with force that crossed the line of rough-but-pleasurable and went straight into the realm of torture. He let out a hiss of pain, muffled by the ass pressed against his face, and those fingers eased up their grip. There was still a considerable pressure behind them, though, enough to keep him on edge and aware of exactly what they were capable of.

Understandably, Kyuku wasn’t thrilled about the situation. Fucking someone was one thing, but being forced to slurp his own cum out of their ass afterwards was certainly another. He started to squirm under Zenberu’s ass, planting his hands on his thighs in an attempt to push the lizardman off of his face, and the consequences of his mistake were immediately apparent. That hand clamped down on his cock again, this time hard enough that it felt like something was going to break, and Kyuku let out a scream that would’ve been ear piercing were it not absorbed by Zenberu’s ass. His whole body tensed, wanting to curl up into a ball but prevented from doing so by the weight of Zenberu’s ass pinning his head down.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” Zenberu growled. Considering the pain already shooting through his crotch, Kyuku paled at the thought of what Zenberu actually trying to hurt him would entail.

Seeing that he had little choice in the matter if he wanted to keep all of his body parts attached, Kyuku gave in. He had to force it to move every centimetre, but with great effort, his tongue slipped past his lips and crept towards Zenberu’s asshole. When it made contact, it was all Kyuku could do not to pull it back immediately. It was soaked in a thick layer of his own cum, and his tongue wicked up the salty taste of it like a sponge, the flavour of his own musk soaking into his taste buds. There was another, equally masculine element at play in it, as well—the taste of Zenberu, no doubt. Despite its relative weakness in comparison to everything else, those notes of foreign musk were all his brain would focus on.

It was hardly what he wanted to do most at that particular moment, but the hand gripped around his cock was proving to be a powerful motivator. With no other options, Kyuku reluctantly dragged his tongue across Zenberu’s tailhole and gathered up a wad of cum on his tongue. The taste of mixed musk only got stronger the more of it he collected, so before it could make him change his mind, he pulled his tongue back and gulped it down.

The regret was immediate. The act of swallowing smeared it across the inside of his mouth, making its every surface ring with the taste of their mating. That wasn’t even touching on the texture—it stuck to his throat, sliding down like glue, making sure he was acutely aware of every inch it travelled. It was strange to think, but for the first time in his life, he wished that his cum wasn’t quite so thick. If it was even a touch thinner, things would be so much easier.

Even so, he still managed to get it down, feeling it drop down into his stomach. That wasn’t the end, of course; Zenberu was still there, grinding back against his face. Kyuku was going to have to do it again, again, and again until he was satisfied. He was sure that wasn’t going to happen until he’d tongue-bathed his tailhole enough that it sparkled. He let out a groan into Zenberu’s ass and, with the kind of reluctance that could only be overcome by the threat of severe bodily harm, let his tongue move forward for another round.

Only when Zenberu felt every drop of cum under his tail replaced with saliva did he deign to stand up. He wouldn’t have minded spending a few more minutes in that position—hours, even—but there were things that needed to be attended to. His cock throbbing between his legs, for example. While Kyuku’s tongue had done nothing but good for it, as evidenced by the layer of pre was now coating the smaller lizardman’s neck, it wasn’t going to be enough to finish him off doing what it was. He’d need some more traditional stimulation for that, and he had a good idea of exactly where he was going to get it.

But first, punishment.

“Thanks for the good time,” Zenberu said, turning back to face Kyuku before leaning over him, staring into his bleary eyes, “but regardless of your... condition, I can’t risk a backstabbing snake like you telling anyone about what we’ve just done.”

Kyuku stared right back at him, blinking slowly, clearly not understanding what Zenberu was saying. Thankfully, he was more than willing to demonstrate. Zenberu dropped down to his knees, letting his weight land squarely on Kyuku’s chest. The wind was knocked out of him in something that sounded like a cross between a cough and a wheeze, and Zenberu was sure that he could feel ribs bow under him when he came down. Frankly, it was a miracle that none of them had cracked.

He didn’t care about any of that, of course. Zenberu was more focused on the fact that the whole thing had caused Kyuku to open his mouth in a scream of pain, though with the way his chest was being compressed. it came out as more of a breathless hiss than anything else. That was probably the second biggest mistake Kyuku had made that day.

Zenberu pressed down on Kyuku’s forehead with one hand, pinning his head to the ground, and grabbed the bottom of his jaw with the other. He yanked down, opening the lizardman’s mouth as wide as it’d go. Kyuku let out a mewling whine of protest, trying to shut his jaw, but Zenberu was more than strong enough to overpower him. Holding his muzzle open was a two hand job, though, which wasn’t going to work for him. He glanced around, looking for something to solve the problem.

He missed it the first time he saw it. It took a few seconds for things to congeal in his mind and an idea to float to the surface. Sometimes, the simplest things provided the best solutions. Acting quickly before Kyuku could take advantage of the situation to pull away from his grip or, worse yet, chomp down on his fingers, Zenberu released his grip on Kyuku’s forehead and snatched a rock from the ground. It was about half the size of a fist, perfect for his purposes.

Zenberu jammed the stone into Kyuku’s muzzle between his teeth, as far back as as he could. He managed to get it all the between his molars. Kyuku let out a groan of pain and instinctively tried to bite down, but as expected, the rock kept him from closing his jaws. It was lodged in there enough that Kyuku wouldn’t be getting it out without the use of his hands, and with the way Zenberu was sitting on his chest, there was no chance of that happening any time soon.

A sick grin broke out across Zenberu’s muzzle, one that struck nearly as much fear into Kyuku as his anger had. He jammed his fingers deep into Kyuku’s mouth, reaching far back enough that the lizardman retched, though somehow managed to avoid puking all over Zenberu’s hand. Considering what happened next, perhaps it would’ve been better if he had.

Once those fingers had gone back far enough that they threatened to start sliding into his throat, they apparently found what they were looking for, because they stopped in their tracks. Zenberu’s claws were poking against the very back of his tongue while his thumb was positioned underneath, pressing uncomfortably against its root. The whole arrangement left Zenberu buried nearly up to the wrist in his mouth, and Kyuku couldn’t help but wonder exactly what it was he was looking for in there.

Therein lied his mistake: Zenberu had already found what he was looking for. It was purely a matter of retrieval.

The pressure behind those claws raised from light pressure to vice-like so quickly that Kyuku didn’t even realise what was going on until the scream was already leaving his mouth, sounding odd and distorted as it was filtered past Zenberu’s hand.

Zenberu’s hand pulled back in a sharp yank, and Kyuku experienced an odd sensation. His tongue was such a thick, strong muscle, and he’d never hurt it any worse than biting it while eating. Even a glancing pain like that seemed so sharp that he should’ve been tipped off to exactly how sensitive an organ it was, but that knowledge had never been made more clear to him than it was right then. It was an agony so deep and sharp that his mind seemed to temporarily blank out just to handle it, leaving him watching everything with a strange sense of numbness. He was reminded most of someone pulling a root out of the ground.

That was, until Zenberu’s hand jerked free of his muzzle, fingers gripped around the tongue now conspicuously absent from his mouth. Then, the pain that he’d been suppressing shot through his head like he’d swallowed a bolt of lightning. It ran up his skull, down his throat, all throughout his mouth while blood gushed out of the wound that’d once held his tongue. He couldn’t taste it, but he could smell it, the tang of copper bubbling up into his nose and running down his throat.

“I’m honoured to have had the privilege of being the last to use your tongue,” Zenberu mocked, tossing the severed organ to the side. Then, he stood back up, turning his attention away from Kyuku clutching at his mouth and drooling bloody sputum all over his front. There was still the matter of Sukyu, lying unconscious a few metres away.

“Oh, I know how to wake you up,” Zenberu muttered, moving over to Sukyu and positioning himself on all fours over top of him.

Zenberu grabbed his cock with one hand, aligning it with the thin line of Sukyu’s slit. Even the slight contact had his cock throbbing, a thick gout of precum bubbling out of him and onto the lizardman’s scales, smearing across them. His body was primed and ready, positively buzzing with the need to breed.

The edges of Zenberu’s mouth turned up in a smirk. Typically, even when he was with slaves, there was some amount of holding back. It simply didn’t make sense to grievously injure a slave that could otherwise be doing work. Here, though, there was no such restriction—this was a punishment for a deceitful enemy, and there would be no quarter.

He wedged the tip of his manhood between the lips of Sukyu’s slit, feeling the tightness of it gripping around his head. Sukyu’s insides, like most lizardmen—those outside of the Dragon Tusk’s care, anyway—were unaccustomed to any sort of insertion. They were meant to hold his own cock, not receive another. Even just the head of it inside Sukyu was enough to have him letting out a hiss of discomfort from deep within his unconscious stupor.

Zenberu didn’t care about any of that, or perhaps it was more accurate to say that he cared about it for all the wrong reasons. Very little gave him the level of satisfaction he got from breaking in another male’s slit, the act of taking an area so personal and sensitive and remoulding it into just another hole for him to fuck. To him, the sight of a male with a gaping slit packed full of his seed was just as good as a female in the same state. Perhaps even better.

A deep, rumbling growl reverberated through his chest. That line of thought was only making him harder, enough to draw a spurt of precum out of him, one that was milked out of him and directly into Sukyu’s body by the steady contractions of his slit. Plugged up as he was by Zenberu’s cock, the stuff had no path to go but further inside of him, seeping deep into his body and coating his walls with its slickness.

That was enough lubrication. Zenberu planted his arms on Sukyu’s shoulders, pinning him to the ground, then slammed himself forward in one mighty thrust.

It wasn’t slow or subtle, but it was certainly effective. Sukyu’s slit might’ve been tight, but with the amount of strength behind Zenberu’s hips, there way no way to keep him out. His cock came in like a battering ram, easily tearing past every clenching muscle trying to keep him out until the bulge of his knot pressed against the lips of Sukyu’s slit.

Something like that was difficult to sleep through, regardless of how hard a hit one took to the head. Awareness came back to his mind in a slow stream that turned into a flood when his brain registered exactly what was happening between his legs. All the pain of having his slit practically ripped open that he’d missed during his bout of unconsciousness washed over him like an angry, frothing tide. It felt like someone had jammed a club inside him. His vision was still blurry from waking up, but things were sharp enough for him to make out a slight bulge in the bottom of his abdomen, and he could feel the head of Zenberu’s dick pressing against his insides in exactly the same location.

His eyes shot open as wide as they’d go as he let out an ear piercing shriek. Zenberu’s face twisted into an expression of annoyance, a moment before his hand clenched up into a fist and streaked down towards Sukyu’s face. It hit him dead on the underside of the chin, whipping his head back on his neck, capping his screaming off with the sound of his jaws snapping audibly shut.

“Good to see you finally woke up,” Zenberu said, sliding back out of his slit until only the head of his cock remained inside. Sukyu let out a hiss, the pain of his removal only slightly more tolerable than that of his entry. “Tell me, did you really think your little play was going to work?”

Zenberu paused, waiting patiently for a response with his cock only an inch inside of Sukyu’s slit. It was still thick enough that every moment it spent inside him was agony, but it was nothing compared to what he’d been experiencing a few scant seconds before, and that reprieve restored some of Sukyu’s mental clarity. Zenberu’s words sounded a bit calmer than before. Perhaps there was a way he could talk himself out of the situation, or at least better it for himself.

“I—”

Without warning, Zenberu thrust back into him, hard enough that Sukyu couldn’t tell if the ringing in his ears was from the pain of his reentry or from the sharp slap when their scales met. The initial penetration had done nothing to loosen him up, meaning he got to re-experience every last bit of pain. The lubrication provided by the precum Zenberu had oozed into him was no saving grace; all it did was allow him to go even faster, harder, with even less regard for his body. He would’ve screamed, but before he could, Zenberu grabbed him by the face and slammed his head into the ground.

His vision swam for a moment. When he came back to his senses, Sukyu could see Zenberu staring down at him with all the grace and patience of a territorial bear. It was a wonder his throat hadn’t been ripped out yet.

“Don’t speak,” Zenberu snarled, fingers digging into Sukyu’s face hard enough that he was worried his cheekbone would snap. “A traitorous dog like you doesn’t have the right to defend himself.”

Zenberu pulled only halfway out before forcing himself back in. With the help of lubrication where it was present and sheer anger where it wasn’t, he’d started moving at an almost frantic pace, one that left Sukyu’s insides burning from the friction just as much as the stretching. Every thrust brought the head of Zenberu’s cock down onto his own, slamming into it like he was trying to force it back into his body, each time filling Sukyu with a nauseating, gut-wrenching pain that made him want to curl up into a ball and cry. But with the way Zenberu was pinning him, all he could do was scream, voice hitching with sobs as he did so.

“You slink around trying to stab others in the back, but start crying the moment someone retaliates. Typical.” While continuing to pound his slit, rivulets of precum leaking out around his cock and running down along his tail, Zenberu brought his face down until his muzzle was inches away from Sukyu’s face. “Do you know what’s going to happen to you after I’m done with you, dog?”

Sukyu couldn’t muster any words in reply. He didn’t even know if he had the courage to try. Instead, he just stared back at Zenberu, shrinking back in fear even as his face twisted in a grimace from the pain shooting up from between his legs. That was apparently response enough for Zenberu, as he continued, growling his words into Sukyu’s ear with a rage like simmering flame that threatened to flare up at any moment.

“I’m going to make sure you’re never in a position to attempt another little coup like this ever again. You’re going to be the lowest of the low. Even the slaves will spit on you, right after they finish using your holes. That’s all you’re good for, after all.”

Sukyu whined, as much from the pain of everything Zenberu was doing to him as from what he’d just said. It was clear that everything he’d just said was no bluff, but completely serious. He wasn’t to be granted the dignity of a warrior’s death. Zenberu was going to make sure he lived a long life in service to the Dragon Tusk, and there was no doubt in his mind it was going to be an arduous one. He’d be lucky if he was able to even get an erection by the end of the week, if the rumours he’d heard about Zenberu’s men were true.

Zenberu himself seemed to be doing precious little to disprove them. Every one of his thrusts had his cock butting up against Sukyu’s flaccid member hard enough to crush it back into his own body, as before, but something had changed. The crippling pain that’d accompanied it was now abating. It wasn’t gone, by any means, and even the smallest movement made him acutely aware of how excruciatingly full of Zenberu’s cock he was—but the brutal stretching seemed to be getting more bearable.

But it didn’t come as a relief to him. If anything, it was horrifying: a sign of his body changing, shaping itself to better suit Zenberu’s whims. It must’ve shown in his face somehow, because Zenberu reached down and grabbed him by the chin, jerking his face up to look at him. He was grinning.

“You’re already barely struggling. Are you that easily broken? Doesn’t surprise me.”

Zenberu dredged something up from his throat and then leaned forward, hocking a gob of spit onto Sukyu’s face. Unprepared and unable to dodge, he could do nothing but sit there in Zenberu’s grip while it smacked onto his face, right between his eyes. He cringed, but managed to keep silent, so Zenberu shifted into short, fast strokes that battered his knot against his slit until Sukyu let out a squeal.

“Keep squirming. We haven’t even started yet,” Zenberu said.

Sukyu almost asked what he meant, but there was no need. As soon as the words had left his mouth, Zenberu’s hand shifted from his jaw back to his shoulder, pinning him down in place while his movements ramped up in speed. His hips moved like a jackhammer, each outstroke pulling his cock nearly free until only his head remained between inside Sukyu, filling him with a strange emptiness that felt utterly alien. Then, he’d slam back in, rushing forward until the bulge of his knot bashed against the lips of his slit.

That empty feeling would disappear, washed away by the painful stretching and soreness that Zenberu’s cock brought with it, but it was replaced by something else. Sukyu would hesitate to call it pleasure, because nothing about the situation felt good in the slightest, but it was something different from pain. His body was reacting somehow, unable to ignore the stimulation Zenberu was providing to his most sensitive area. There was no way for his flaccid manhood to grow with Zenberu’s cock taking up all the room his slit had to offer and squashing his own down with every thrust to boot, but he could feel a tingling in it regardless. He let out a shudder, one not entirely of discomfort.

Zenberu had a keen eye for how males reacted when they were being used in such a way, the differences between reactions to pain and reactions to something else, and even something as subtle as a shiver didn’t escape his attention. He let out a laugh, a harsh, barking sound.

“If you get off from this, I’ll make sure the whole tribe gets a shot at you when we get back to the village,” Zenberu said, “since you seem to like it so much.”

Sukyu’s eyes widened, allowing the tears building there to flow freely down his cheeks. As much as he hated what was happening to him, there was no denying that he was having a reaction to it, something as involuntary and automatic as breathing. He could try to resist it as much as he liked, but Sukyu knew just as well as him that it would be useless; his body had been reduced to little more than an instrument, one that Zenberu knew how to play all too well.

Still, he had to try. The other option was giving up completely and submitting himself to whatever abuse Zenberu decided to visit upon him.

He tried focusing on the pain, but concentrating his attention on that only drew his attention to the undercurrent of more palatable sensation running just beneath it, what he could no longer call anything but a twisted and undesirable pleasure. Sukyu tried tensing up, operating under some misguided idea that it might quash those feelings, but all it did was bring the sensitive walls of his slit into a tight grip around Zenberu’s cock. That brought the pleasure rising to the surface, thrumming inside him and shooting up along his spine. It was enough to force a gasp from him, and the clenching of his insides drew a rumble of pleasure from Zenberu, who spent a moment with his dick pressed up to the knot in his slit to bask in the sensation.

Seeing how horribly his plan had failed, Sukyu decided to try relaxing instead, hoping to yield the opposite result. He sucked in as deep and calm a breath as his pounding heart would allow and let his muscles go as slack. A ball of tension in his abdomen, the result of his body trying its hardest to prevent Zenberu from invading it, began to unwind. Zenberu could feel him loosening up and flashed him a toothy grin in response, but Sukyu tried not to let that affect his efforts.

Perhaps he should have. Instead of pulling back again like he’d expected, Zenberu started pushing forward again. The bulge of his knot ground against the entrance to his slit, but unlike before, now Sukyu could feel himself stretching wider as body started to give way.

Sukyu eyes went wide, the magnitude of his mistake sinking in. He tried clenching down to keep Zenberu from sinking any further, but half the muscles that would be able to keep him out were already stretched so far around his knot that they wouldn’t contract, and the rest refused to obey him. Only once he’d relaxed them did the exhaustion kick in, and now trying to move them just made them twitch and burn with fatigue.

He tried to jerk his arms free of Zenberu’s grip, to push him away, but it was too late. Sukyu’s slit was already spreading around the widest part of his knot. With a rumble of satisfaction that was overshadowed by Sukyu’s scream of pain, defeat, and shame, Zenberu shoved himself forward and overcame the last dregs of resistance that his body had left to offer. His knot popped inside Sukyu’s body, the lips of his slit wrapping around the root of his cock.

Motivated by some sort of sick curiosity, Sukyu looked down. He could see the sizable bulge formed in his abdomen where Zenberu’s dick pressed against him from inside. It throbbed, and he could see it jump ever so slightly, while he felt a spurt of precum wash over the head of his own cramped cock.

Sukyu moved to make a noise—it could’ve been a plea for him to stop, or it could’ve been another meaningless scream. Zenberu never found out because he grabbed him by the muzzle and slammed his head back against the ground, pushing back on it for use as leverage as he ripped his knot free from his slit with a hard, short yank.

As Sukyu’s senses returned to him, he let out a groan that rose in volume until it was a throat rattling shriek, muffled by Zenberu’s grip around his mouth. It should’ve been a relief; Zenberu’s knot was outside of him, which meant that much less stretching, pain, and horrible fullness that he had to deal with.

But it wasn’t, because Zenberu was pushing it back in, letting out an awful chuckle all the while.

Sukyu screeched. This time, it took far less effort for Zenberu to force his knot into Sukyu’s slit, loosened up by his first entry as it was. Being easier to knot, however, was far and away a different matter from knotting being easier to handle. Every last bit of sensation was still there, the painful stretching, the feeling of having his slit packed so full that it felt like he was going to burst. The only difference was it was now all coming even faster, concentrating everything into one sharp burst that was enough to make his vision waver.

That, and one other thing. When Zenberu’s knot muscled its way into him for the second time, precum forcing its way out around his knot and drooling over his clenching tailhole in the process, switches inside him were flipped that had no right to be touched. His body, either overwhelmed by the stimuli or merely a touch more subservient to Zenberu than his mind was, was transforming the violent mistreatment into pleasure. Even while it was being bludgeoned by Zenberu’s erection, Sukyu could feel his cock twitch from deep within his body, all the stretching and crushing pressure inside his slit feeding into a building sensation inside of it.

Sukyu groaned, wanting to plead with Zenberu to stop, but the hand clamped over his muzzle put a sharp end to any such idea. Instead, he was forced to lie there and endure Zenberu yanking his knot out before shoving it back into his slit a few seconds later. The resistance had been beaten out of him, and Zenberu was taking advantage of it by violating him in the most brutal and thorough way possible.

Every time that knot popped its way in and out, those sensations grew inside him, even without the advantage of an erection to focus them in. Sukyu tried to ignore them as best he could, and when that didn’t work he tried suppressing them, but he might as well have been trying to fight gravity. He couldn’t stop Zenberu or his own body, and the only reason he wasn’t shouting with rage was because the futility of it all had filled him with a gripping sense of despair. It was humiliating, debasing, utterly undignified—

Sukyu’s noises of pain and protest took on a higher, distinctly more pleasured tone as Zenberu thrust his knot inside him once again. He tried to contain himself, but his body seemed unwilling to obey him in that regard, either; a shuddering moan slipped past his lips, one that Zenberu recognized immediately. He shifted his hand down to the underside of Sukyu’s muzzle, forcing him to look up into his face. Then, rather than pulling out again, he made small, short humps that rocked his knot back and forth inside Sukyu’s slit and ground the head of his cock against Sukyu’s own.

That was enough to push him over the edge. With tears of equal parts pain and shame pouring down his cheeks, Sukyu’s body finally caved in the most concrete and irrefutable sign of his defeat. Zenberu could feel the walls of the smaller lizardman’s slit tighten around his cock and saw his face screw up in a grimace that tried its hardest to pass as agony, though he knew better. There was a twitch against the head of his cock, then a pressure as Sukyu’s member tried one last time to escape his body, only to be met by the intractable mass of Zenberu’s own.

It submitted to him, just as the rest of Sukyu’s body had. Sukyu’s hips moved of their own volition, pressing up to meet his, and Zenberu felt another pulse from the lizardman’s trapped dick right before he felt a rich, wet heat wash over his erection. Sukyu was cumming purely from having his slit penetrated, and while completely flaccid, to boot. He was going to do well in the stocks, indeed. Zenberu leaned down and stared deep into his watery eyes and grinned while Sukyu convulsed in pleasure beneath him, knotted and packed full of his master’s cock, as befit a slave.

The contractions from his orgasm were enough to push Zenberu over the edge as well. Letting out a rumble of satisfaction, Zenberu shifted his grip to Sukyu’s hips and clenched down hard, pulling the lizardman as tight against him as he could. His knot, long suppressed in pursuit of his own pleasures, was finally allowed to inflate to its full size. It didn’t waste the opportunity, immediately ballooning until it was double its former size, locking them together at the hip.

Zenberu roared as his cock erupted, letting the first jet of his cum shoot out and splatter against the head of Sukyu’s own, returning what he’d just experienced in kind. But whereas Sukyu’s output had been relatively minor, his flaccid state simply not granting him the strength needed for anything larger, Zenberu was anything but. He was a virile male in any case, but having edged his way through a pounding and then followed that up with a bout of knot fucking had taken him to a whole new level. Even a single pulse brought with it enough cum to match and exceed what Sukyu had to offer, doubling the amount already packed into the confines of his slit.

Then there was another, and another. Zenberu growled in pleasure as he unloaded, but Sukyu could only let out a whine as the already cramped interior of his slit was flooded with more and more of the lizardman’s thick seed. The warmth of it continued to build right alongside the pressure, the knot plugging up his entrance preventing even a single drop of it from escaping, until his cock was practically swimming with the stuff. He’d thought he’d known fullness before, but this something entirely different—he was starting to fear what would happen when he ran out of space.

Thankfully, Zenberu’s impatience put a stop to that fear. The hands pulling Sukyu closer and tighter suddenly reversed direction, shoving him away. All of the pressure of that push was focused on the one point where they were connected: his knot. Sukyu tried to scream, but the pain of it was enough to clench his throat shut, the only noise escaping him a strangled hiss. He’d taken the knot in its dormancy, but he was not prepared for it being removed in a fully swollen state.

Yet his level of preparation didn’t matter, because Zenberu didn’t care. With a bit of effort, every ounce of which translated to a hundred times as much stretching, burning pain for Sukyu, Zenberu worked his knot free of the smaller lizardman’s slit. The other chieftain—former chieftain now, Zenberu thought—squirmed about through the entire affair, thrashing weakly and letting out a never-ending stream of whimpers and whines.

It annoyed Zenberu. So he swung his first at Sukyu’s face in a wide swing, in the hopes of calming him down a little. He wasn’t sure about what it did for his emotional state, but it did stun him long enough for Zenberu to tug the last few inches of his knot free, wrenching it free of Sukyu’s slit with a loud pop. The rest of his shaft was quick to follow, sliding free with a wet shlicking sound, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. A trickle of seed drooled out of it, quickly growing to a thick tide that poured out along the base of Sukyu’s tail.

Zenberu raised himself onto his knees, staring down at the dazed form of Sukyu beneath him. It’d been satisfying, but something was missing. Something more permanent than what he’d done.

“I think it’s only fair that you lose something, too,” Zenberu said, motioning towards Kyuku’s still and bloody body with his head. Sukyu stirred at that, but before he could ask what the larger lizardman meant, his face was grabbed by two enormous hands. They forced him to look up at Zenberu, who gave him an enormous, predatory smile.

Then, the thumb of one of those hands moved over his left eye.

Sukyu screeched, thrashed, and did everything he could to stop what was happening. None of it did any good. His eye closed instinctively, but he could still feel the touch of Zenberu’s digit setting down on it. It was light as a feather at first, but the pressure behind it rapidly built, filling his vision with dazzling light and his eye with burning, shooting pain.

The pressure increased. The lights got brighter. The pain got worse. His screams got louder. Through the deafening sounds of his own agony, he could hear Zenberu’s laughter.

Eventually, it gave. Sukyu was treated to the horrifying sensation of his eye crumpling like a rotten grape under the force of Zenberu’s thumb, which slid into his eye socket to brush against the raw nerves there. It was worse than anything he’d ever felt, which was an impressive accomplishment, considering what he’d been experiencing for the past thirty seconds.

In that moment, he didn’t want freedom, revenge, or the survival of his tribe. All Sukyu wanted was death. The vision of his left eye—what was formerly his left eye—flashed white for a moment, brighter than he’d ever seen before, before going pitch black. Part of his wish had been granted; it certainly felt as if a part of him had died. He could feel a trickle of fluid run down his cheek. It wasn’t tears, nor was it blood, but the clear jelly that’d been contained within his eyeball.

Zenberu released his face and let Sukyu drop to the ground, where he curled up into a ball and clutched at the mutilated socket that once held his eye, still screaming. While it’d certainly been fun, it hadn’t quite been enough to quench the fury burning inside him.

He looked back over his shoulder, staring at the four unconscious druids strewn about the ground. They’d certainly do, for a start.

---

The next day, Zenberu was already back in his village. After bludgeoning and tearing apart three of the four druids in order to soothe his rage, he decided it’d be in his best interest to make use of the last one’s powers. Therefor, after a brief bit of battering to help him wake up faster, Zenberu politely asked the last living druid for his assistance in stabilizing Sukyu and Kyuku for transport.

The druid told him that he’d used the last of his magical power escaping into the forest. This made negotiations somewhat more difficult, but Zenberu was nothing if not determined. By the time Zenberu had gotten to the second-last of his teeth, the druid seemed to recall that he had just enough energy left to heal the two chieftain’s wounds well enough that they wouldn’t die of blood loss on the way back to the village. His reward for his assistance was to, unlike his fellows, remain in a single, unified piece.

Of course, that piece may have been bashed into anonymity using a particularly large boulder, but that was simply the price of treachery.

The two chieftains were, arguably, in a better position. They’d kept their lives, and had been granted a new position in service to the Dragon Tusk tribe. The position did require them to be stripped of their weapons and armour, of course, as only servants who had earned the favour of Zenberu were entitled to such things. Zenberu’s initial plan was to release them into the village and spread word that they were to serve as anyone saw fit, but that didn’t seem like an adequate punishment. While the implications were clear, the results would be too infrequent and unpredictable for him to be able to see them consistently or ensure that things was being carried out to his will.

So, Zenberu came up with an idea that he felt better suited the crime.

In the centre of the village were a pair of pillories, similar enough to what Zenberu had been briefly held in. One held Kyuku Zuzu and the other Sukyu Juju, side by side. Zenberu had dictated to anyone nearby that they were free to use by any who so desired. Then, he walked away and waited.

It hadn’t taken long for word to spread. The warriors who held a desire for such things were the first to go, of course—there were always a few that felt a sense of pride about being the first to break in a slave. In this case, there were more than a few. The idea of it being a public spectacle drew more interest than Zenberu had anticipated. There was a lineup at least five men long for both of the chieftains, on either end.

As Zenberu had hoped, his men were not gentle in the slightest. By the time noon rolled around, both of their backs were smeared with blood oozing from the numerous bite wounds covering their necks. There were so many interlocking tooth marks, each one signifying a claim of ownership from some tribesman or other, that it looked more like they’d been used by a pack of wolves than of lizardmen.

But it was most certainly the latter. No wolf would leave its prey as splattered with cum as they’d been. It coated the insides of their thighs, rolled down the lengths of their tails, and drooled out of their well used holes—mouths, asses, and slits alike. They’d been so thoroughly bred that his men had begun to grow tired of them, seeking out fresher partners, leaving only the more deviant of the tribe to continue using them.

That simply would not do. Zenberu did not feel they’d received their fair due. As such, he sent one of his men to fetch a particularly special implement, one that hadn’t seen use by the tribe in years.

It took them awhile to find it among the tribe’s old goods, but the tribesman returned with it eventually. A long metal rod, a rare material among the lizardman tribes. That such an item was possessed by the tribe as a whole rather than one of its most powerful members meant it had to serve a particularly special function.

It did, though situations significant enough to warrant its use were quite rare. Yet despite its rarity, the shape of the rod’s head was immediately recognizable by any lizardman: it was a brand, much like the one that was used to mark travellers. The design, however, invoked an entirely different meaning. It marked one as a slave among slaves, their only purpose to serve any who desired it until an eventual death in ignominy. It was a fate worse than any other, for execution still offered some dignity in death, and at least a slave’s name would eventually be forgotten. But one who bore such a mark was to exist forever in shame, a blot upon one’s bloodline.

Zenberu heated the brand in full view of the rest of the village, and a crowd formed, watching in silence as the simple yet ancient rite was performed. He worked in silence, marking both Kyuku and Sukyu without bothering to tell them what he was doing. The pillories prevented the chieftains from seeing what he was doing, but the blistering heat on their chests informed them well enough. They screamed in agony and horror at what’d been done to them, but it only lasted as long as it took Zenberu to finish marking them. As soon as he walked away, the slaves who’d been watching fell in upon them, their long-suppressed desires overwhelming any pity they might’ve held for the two captives.

When Zenberu checked back an hour later, even he was surprised at the turnout. The lines stretched far longer than last time, easily tripled in size. Understandably, the chieftains were beginning to look a touch more ragged than they had that morning. Kyuku seemed particularly distressed, and there was a pile of gleaming white objects sitting in a puddle of blood below him.

Asking around, Zenberu was told that Kyuku had become violently uncooperative after being branded, and they’d been forced to remove his teeth to avoid him injuring anyone by biting them. With no tongue to pleasure with and no teeth to worry about, those using his mouth were forced to be particularly rough, using his throat as no more than a hole to fuck. None of it had stopped his attempts to bite, but without any fangs, its only effect was to make him look every bit the helpless animal he’d become.

Sukyu, at least, had enough self-preservation to comply. Unfortunately, he’d also attracted some particularly special attention. Partway through being used by the slaves, Shasuryu had come over and pulled away the one using his rear, immediately plunging into Sukyu’s cum-drooling slit and fucking it with every bit of violent intensity that Zenberu used his most every night. Probably as some means of indirect revenge, Zenberu mused.

Figuring that Sukyu deserved a bit of extra punishment to match what Kyuku had gone through anyway, Zenberu fully supported the idea. To that end, he’d made a particularly interesting choice: he gave ownership of Sukyu to Shasuryu, to serve a pet for his personal servant.

Needless to say, Shasuryu was thrilled at the idea, and took to it immediately. He’d gone without penetrating something the longest of any of the slaves there, being one of the first to be enslaved when the raids began, and had every intention of making up for lost time. Throughout the day, whenever his duties allowed it, he’d be found around the pillory. If he wasn’t making use of Sukyu’s slit, then he’d be leaning against a nearby hut, watching the others take their turns while he waited out his own refractory period.

Zenberu could see him there now, as he watched the whole scene from the doorway of his hut. While the lineup of slaves had abated some, there was still more than enough for the two chieftains to be kept busy at all hours of the day. Perhaps not a fitting punishment for treachery, but the closest thing one would find to it outside of the underworld. Once their public performance was complete, perhaps he’d take one of them away for a more private session. Kyuku, in particular. Zenberu smirked at the thought.

Crusch emerged from inside of the hut, taking up a spot beside him. “What are you looking at, dear?”

Zenberu looked down at her, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”