This story was written to go with the picture above, by Corrsk.
Ronin slumped against his jail cell deep within the avian castle, trying to figure out how it all ended like this.
As much as the gold-scaled dragon hated to admit it, they’d been doomed from the start. The dragon empire never stood a chance against the avian kingdom, but they didn’t realize that until after the dragons had broken the centuries-long peace that had existed between the two sky-dwelling nations.
Anyone could tell you that pride and greed were two of the biggest flaws that dragons had. They fueled an unrivaled ambition that could lead to great things, yes. But in this case, it had walked them right into decimation.
King Auros, the largest and most fearsome beast in the dragon clan — and by virtue, their leader — decided that he was done sharing the skies with those featherbrains. And Ronin, one of his most trusted lieutenants, backed him up on that decision all the way. The skies were the dragons’ birthright. The avians were the interlopers, and it was time for their trespassing to stop. They’d be better off as subordinates in the grand draconic kingdom.
One look at a common bird was all you needed to see why: Most had lithe, twinkish bodies that could never stand up against their draconic might — even the males! Ronin often imagined himself plundering those bodies once the avians had been conquered.
But there was one problem: The dragons had vastly underestimated their foes. The birds were peaceful creatures, but when threatened, they fought. And they fought in numbers, with a nimbleness and agility that the bulky reptiles could never hope to match. While one dragon could overpower one bird, they often found themselves flanked and outnumbered.
And more than that, the birds fought with belief. Dragons fought for honor, for pride. These avians… there was something stronger uniting them. Rumors had spread among what was left of the decimated reptilian army that the avians had a powerful king of their own, but Ronin had never laid eyes on him.
Worse still, the avians refused to give the dragons the proper deaths they deserved. They never killed; they only took prisoners. Ronin would much prefer an honorable death to ending up in chains.
And most horrifying of all, some dragons had now been sighted fighting alongside the avians. Before they could figure out why, King Auros had finally been captured in the most recent battle, and despite his most valiant fighting, Ronin soon followed. For all intents and purposes, the war was over.
The two shared cells across from each other, and when the guards weren’t within earshot, they made furtive plans with each other about how they’d escape. The two had grown up together, sparred together, became proud warriors together. They shared the same glistening, golden scales. They were aligned on nearly everything, and were remarkably close friends even among dragonkind. Had they existed in a less open world, salacious rumors would likely have spread about them. (Fortunately, neither dragon nor bird viewed such rumors as disqualifying.)
But a few days ago, the guards had taken King Auros away. And like every other prisoner in their block of cells, he never returned.
Ronin was next.
A pair of well-built birds — a hornbill and a Northern harrier — came to unlock Ronin’s cell. “Come,” the harrier said, gesturing for him to follow. The dragon begrudgingly did so.
Ronin had learned quickly that not every bird fit into the twinkish archetype they so often saw. Many of their warriors were burlier, like these two guards, and after the dragons’ initial ambushes, they saw more and more of the muscular avians in combat.
That didn’t intimidate Ronin. Even the strongest bird could never hope to match a dragon’s musculature, and he still stood a head taller than his captors. But he had to appreciate these larger birds’ physiques, especially when wearing loincloths that left so little to the imagination. Much like dragons, some avians had internal equipment, but Ronin and the guards escorting him all had external genitalia. Ronin preferred it that way. There was no need to hide something when it was worthy of your pride.
“So, where are you taking me?” Ronin asked. The guards didn’t give him an answer or even acknowledge the question. I guess it won’t be that easy, Ronin thought.
“Silent type, eh?” he nevertheless continued. “Gonna take me where you took the rest of my friends? Torture me? Kill me?”
That last one finally prompted a response. “No,” the harrier said. “We do not kill our prisoners.”
“Then where are the rest of the dragons you captured with me?”
The bird guards went back to ignoring Ronin’s questions. At least he knew he wasn’t about to die. That’s always a relief.
After a few more minutes of marching, the trio arrived at a large, ornate wooden door. A pair of guards just as muscled as Ronin’s escorts stood at attention on either side. “This is the last one,” the hornbill said to one of the guards, a raven.
The raven nodded. “He’s waiting,” he said, opening the door.
Ronin let out an involuntary gasp as his eyes beheld a glittering, expansive throne room. The castle hallways had been becoming increasingly fancy as they led to this destination, but the dragon had no idea the avians were capable of such architectural finesse.
High marble walls soared into arcing wood ceilings. A plethora of jewels and gemstones glittered and glistened and pulled the eye in every direction. Natural light filtered through elegant stained glass and became a dazzling array of shimmering colors. And a carpet of deep, rich red led the eye to the pièce de résistance: a massive, ornate throne, with velvet red cushions and gold accents set into a beautiful wood frame, flanked by two more guards obscured by shadows behind the seat.
Atop that throne sat an enormous figure who could only be one person: the avian king. All of Ronin’s preconceptions about the avian race were erased in an instant as he beheld a creature far larger than any he’d ever seen before.
The king had to be at least nine or ten feet tall; as tall sitting down as the guards escorting Ronin were standing up. He appeared to be an eagle of some sort, but his head feathers were a brilliant blue rather than white or brown, and around his neck was a fluffy mane of gray. A gold laurel crown rested on his head, while necklaces strung with hundreds of golden beads encircled his upper chest. A gold band strained against the bird’s huge bicep, and similarly gilded bracers covered his wrists. Anklets and toe rings of the same material completed the king’s fittingly regal ensemble.
The rest of his body was entirely black and heavily muscled. Ronin’s eyes could drink in nearly all of the hulking beast’s bare form, as the only item of clothing the king wore was a red and gold loincloth that draped ineffectually over the bird’s package.
And, oh, what a package it was, hanging down nearly to the floor. The slightest hint of the eagle’s colossal black orbs peeked out from either side of the loose covering, while the bird’s shaft formed a prominent bulge that continued well past his knees.
Ronin could feel his own shaft begin to press against his own tattered loincloth. His eyes darted to the floor as he attempted to suppress his subconscious desires.
The hornbill forced Ronin to his knees in front of the throne. “King Ahab,” the guard said, lowering into a bow himself. “This is the last of the prisoners.”
The eagle lifted his chin in a simple nod of assent, then turned his gaze toward the dragon. Ronin looked back up and was met with the piercing golden eyes of the avian king. A shiver went down his spine. It felt as if this behemoth could see right through him.
Ronin wasn’t sure what was expected of him. He looked back down, wanting to avoid the bird’s terse gaze. “Your… kingship,” he stumbled, unsure of the proper address. “I do not know what you have done with my brothers, but I—”
A hand grabbed his head and roughly pulled it back upward. “The king requires something other than words from your muzzle,” the harrier guard growled.
It slowly dawned on Ronin what the guard meant. And somewhere, deep down, it was exactly what he desired. But his pride stood in the way. “I would never debase myself like that!” he exclaimed with revulsion. “There’s only one king I serve!”
“Is that so?” the harrier responded, a bit of a smirk evident in his voice. “Guards, step forward.”
Ronin gasped as a familiar figure emerged from the shadows to stand by the avian king’s throne.
“King Auros!” he shouted. “What are you doing here?” A sharp prod in the side shut him up before he could say any more, but he got his answer in the way that Auros refused to meet his eyes. The once-regal golden dragon’s cheeks reddened and his loincloth — similar to those worn by the avians — began to tent.
Seeds of doubt began to take root in Ronin’s mind.
King Auros would never yield…
Would he really turn his scales to the opposition so quickly?
Were the avians even their opposition? The whole point of this war was to unify the skies under draconic leadership. But the draconic throne by law belongs to the strongest.
King Auros would never yield… except to a superior creature.
And if this bird is stronger…
…then our combined kingdoms truly would be unstoppable. And the best course of action would be to offer my own allegiance.
Ronin closed his eyes and took a moment to reconcile himself with his decision. It was no easy thing for a prideful dragon to do. Hesitantly, he began to reach toward the eagle king’s sizable bulge.
A scuted foot pressed against the dragon’s back and shoved him onto his belly. “You earn your way to that,” the harrier snarled. “Prove you deserve it, first.”
The only things left in Ronin’s field of vision were Ahab’s monstrous feet, each bigger than the dragon’s entire head! It was clear what the harrier was implying. Pinned against the red carpet in front of Ahab’s throne, Ronin smiled wryly. Of course they would break me down all the way before accepting my allegiance. I would do the same thing — make sure there’s not even a shred of loyalty to the old regime left.
The massive bird king lifted his right foot and planted it directly in front of the disgraced dragon. Ronin instinctively recoiled, expecting it to reek — certain elements of hygiene were not always common among dragons. But Ahab’s paw had a muted, pleasant scent; heady and earthy, faint enough not to be overpowering but still enough to tingle the nostrils.
Light filtering through the stained glass glinted off the golden ring adorning the eagle’s little toe, drawing the dragon’s eye. Ronin felt his face start to subconsciously move back toward the source of that enamoring scent, and he did nothing to stop it, letting himself nuzzle into the soft, rich sole.
The eagle’s back toe curled up under the dragon’s chin, and the three in the front relaxed on the top of Ronin’s head, keeping him in place as he pressed against the huge paw. It wasn’t necessary — he wasn’t going anywhere. And as if to prove it, Ronin wrapped his hands around the top of the foot, pulling it even closer to him.
At some point — he couldn’t tell you when — the dragon’s tongue slipped out of his muzzle, and he began to lap at the great avian paw, letting himself explore the deep, nuanced taste of the bird sole. A low, satisfied purr from above confirmed that his worship was appreciated, and he redoubled his efforts, licking every centimeter of the king’s regal paw clean with his tongue.
A second eagle paw pressed against the right side of his face, and Ronin didn’t even stop to look, simply pulling it in and extending his pampering to both mighty feet. The dragons counted a small handful of magic users among their ranks, but none of them could ever put together a spell so enthralling as what Ahab’s body did all by its irresistible self. Ronin couldn’t help himself; he needed more.
Whatever prideful part of him still remained must have been utterly humiliated. To be doing something so debasing, and in front of his former king, no less! But that part was shoved deep into a dark, hidden corner of his mind, not to be seen again anytime soon. All Ronin could think about instead were the perfect paws in front of them; how soft and warm they felt, how much affection they deserved, and how much he wanted to be the one who gave them that affection.
The dragon’s cock throbbed like mad against the red carpet underneath him. Only Auros had ever treated him like this, during late-night strategy meetings that turned into bouts of drink-fueled lust. At times, he even initiated it, wanting to show his appreciation to his best friend and king. But until now, he had never considered that this was in fact exactly where he belonged, beneath a superior’s paw.
It didn’t feel wrong. It felt right.
Ronin quickly lost all sense of time as he became enraptured with Ahab’s magnificent talons. He didn’t know how long he’d been slobbering at the avian king’s feet, or whether the guards had stayed to watch his pitiful display. His cheeks reddened at the thought. Part of him hoped they had.
After an eternity under the eagle’s soles that still wasn’t anywhere near long enough, Ronin felt the king withdraw his paws. The once-proud dragon couldn’t help but look up at Ahab with needy eyes, wanting nothing more than to worship those paws and feel their warmth and weight on his face for eternity. But the eagle had something better in mind.
The corners of Ahab’s beak twitched upward with the hint of a smirk as he slowly pulled his loincloth aside, revealing his royal package in all its glory.
Saliva pooled on Ronin’s tongue as he reflexively began to drool. Given the rest of the eagle’s splendid body, Ronin expected nothing less than perfection, and the bird’s massive cock and balls more than met his expectations.
Ahab’s huge orbs hung down between his ankles, both easily outsizing Ronin’s head. If they were any larger, they’d brush the floor even as the kingly bird sat relaxed against the back of his throne. A tuft of gray feathers rested between the balls, accentuating how soft and plump Ahab’s sack looked. It took all that was left of Ronin’s shattered dignity not to immediately bury his muzzle in that inviting landing strip and worship what were surely the most virile nuts in the entire region.
Any last shred of restraint vanished, however, as the king revealed his gargantuan cock. It rested almost entirely flaccid over his luxurious balls, which Ronin found even more humiliating given how achingly hard he was. And seeing the eagle’s perfect manhood did nothing to help.
Even soft, the shaft was thicker than the beast’s upper arms, including his bulging biceps. It almost shone, the enticing jet-black flesh glistening in the light in a way that suggested his subjects kept it very well-polished.
Ronin didn’t even get up to walk closer. The fastest path to his prize was on his hands and knees, crawling, keeping himself at face level with the bird’s captivating genitals. In perhaps his sole act of “defiance,” he didn’t even look up at the king for permission, instead wrapping his arms around the eagle’s nuts and shoving his muzzle directly into that wonderful spot where shaft and sack meet.
The dragon felt a huge hand wrap around the back of his head and force him even deeper into the crevasse. Any doubt over what the king desired evaporated, and Ronin was more than eager to provide as his mind remained clouded with lust.
As his face pressed deeper into the soft skin of Ahab’s scrotum, a thick, masculine aroma overwhelmed his nostrils. The king’s paws were pleasant but not overpowering; this was another step up entirely. The eagle’s musk was unequivocally divine: a rich, lovely scent that spread like warmth through his body.
Ronin had been reduced to a mess throughout the entire time he’d been in the throne room, but it was this that pushed him over the edge.
The dragon’s muscular frame shuddered with ecstasy as the orgasm that had long been brewing in his once-proud balls arrived in a moment of utter degradation. He moaned into the avian’s feathered balls as rope after rope of dragon cum shot out of his cock and splattered across his paws and the floor behind him, milked out of him not of his own volition but by the intense and shameful arousal he felt at being put in his place by a better man.
Ronin’s loads had been among the thickest in the draconic kingdom, but even he knew that what his dick produced was pitiful compared to what this bird could surely do. And in that moment he desired more than anything else to witness this eagle’s eruption. To help him achieve it. To perhaps even feel it swell inside of him…
There was a time in the not-so-distant past when Ronin would have considered his seed to be a treasure not to be wasted; a gift to be bestowed on a dragoness or a mark to be given to a subordinate. But now he knew better. Now he knew his seed was right where it belonged: spattered worthlessly across the floor while he focused instead on the seed churning in the king’s superior balls.
Ahab’s cock had begun to harden, spurred by the dragon’s affections and the embarrassing load that the reptile had just strewn across the ground. Ronin hadn’t stopped, continuing to nuzzle and grope the eagle’s heavy orbs. He couldn’t allow himself to rest after his climax, not while his king still required pleasing. Even his dick seemed to ignore its refractory period, hardening right back up as he put everything he could into his worship.
As the avian king’s erection rose higher and higher up against his chest, so too did the dragon, guided by the eagle’s steady hand. Ronin allowed his tongue to slip out of his muzzle and steal a lick of the royal shaft, finding himself immediately entranced. He couldn’t resist taking a second taste, and a third, until soon he was pampering the bird’s manhood with deep, long sweeps of his tongue, savoring every inch of flesh with which his taste buds came into contact.
Another deep purr from the regal avian was all the affirmation Ronin needed. He pressed his face tighter against the jet-black pillar, feeling the intense warmth radiating off of it as he greedily wrapped his tongue around it as best he could. The reptilian race was blessed with long, flexible tongues that made oral sex acts a popular pastime, but this shaft was so thick that it proved to be a challenge.
But what dragon backed away from a challenge? Ronin’s frenzied lust left only one goal in mind: Getting that entire cock inside his maw and down his throat.
By the time the dragon’s muzzle had ascended to the eagle’s tip, he was in an awkward half-squat — he wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the tip while kneeling, but he’d have to bend over too far if he was standing. Ahab helped solve the problem by placing his hand on top of the dragon’s head and gently pushing him back down. He then grabbed his throbbing shaft, dripping with saliva, and moved it toward the eager scalie’s muzzle, pressing it against Ronin’s lips.
With an invitation like that, the dragon didn’t have to be asked twice. He opened his maw to let the king poke his cock inside, swirling his tongue around the tip as it entered. Ahab let his new toy advance at his own pace, allowing the dragon time to acquaint his mouth and throat with the eagle’s jawbreaking member.
Despite his imposing, dominant appearance, Ronin was skilled at giving head, and once he found the right angle of attack he was bobbing his head further and further down the royal scepter.
He could feel the mighty shaft twitching and throbbing in his throat, stretching him to his limit, but there was no way he was going to stop now. The first few gobs of precum soon dripped down his throat, further renewing his resolve.
The only downside of Ahab’s cock beginning to leak pre in this position was that it surpassed Ronin’s taste buds entirely. He pulled himself off the shaft for the briefest of seconds to lick the eagle’s glistening tip, savoring the flavor and letting the pleasantly salty liquid spread on his tongue for a moment before getting right back to work. His true prize was still to come.
The king remained stoic as he received the dragon’s worship, but Ronin could tell he was beginning to get worked up, too — not just from the pre, but from how his massive, broad chest rose and fell with quicker and quicker breaths and how his pounding pulse was beginning to speed up. Every such indication of the king’s pleasure made Ronin want him to please him that much more.
Finally, against all odds, Ronin felt his snout press up against Ahab’s lower abdomen. He’d gotten the entire monster inside. He blushed with both pride and humiliation. Yes, he had a superior man’s cock wedged in his throat. But he doubted very many people would be able to take it balls-deep like he could.
He let himself rest there a moment, savoring how it felt to have the entire length of the avian king’s shaft throbbing in his throat and spurting its thick precum into his belly. The serenity could not last long, to Ronin’s chagrin; he needed to come up for air. Reluctantly, he did, panting a bit before curling his tongue back around the delicious dick and pushing it back inside.
Suddenly, he felt two large hands grip his horns, hard, and pull him down all the way to the bird’s hilt. Having proved himself capable of taking the king’s behemoth, it seemed Ronin had earned some rougher treatment — or perhaps Ahab had simply run out of patience and was ready to take the act to the next level.
Whatever the reason, Ronin’s head was forced up and down on the eagle’s dick with a much faster tempo. After having been silent and passive nearly the entire time, allowing just his majestic presence alone to break the dragon in front of him, Ahab finally took an active role. And any doubts Ronin had about the avian king’s strength were quickly put to rest.
Ahab manhandled the dragon in front of him, effortlessly shoving the scaly servant up and down his cock. Ronin put up no resistance, but it wouldn’t have mattered if he had. His large horns, once the source of so much pride as a status symbol in the draconic kingdom, were now just handlebars to give his superior a better grip while using his face like a fleshlight.
At the same time, the eagle began to thrust his hips forward, humping the dragon’s muzzle with little trace of the gentleness that guided some of his earlier actions. Ronin thought he’d taken the bird as deep as he could go, but each violent thrust seemed to force the thick cock even deeper down his throat.
He could feel pre gushing out of the royal rod and into his belly, thoroughly lubricating his insides and slickening the shaft’s path in and out, if only a little. The king was relentless, facefucking his new subject with a force that felt more akin to a sledgehammer than a person.
With every pump of his hips, the gold chains around Ahab’s neck and torso leapt up and down, clattering against each other to produce the only sound in the throne room beyond the lewd smacking of the eagle’s colossal balls against Ronin’s sternum and the deep, animalistic grunts that emerged from both avian and reptile.
But all of that noise was drowned out by the pounding thoughts in Ronin’s head.
Use me.
Cum inside my throat.
Fill my belly with your seed.
I serve at the pleasure of the king.
Pleasure yourself with my service, king.
Do whatever you need to do to achieve your gratification.
I am nothing but a servant, a tool, a toy for my superior.
Use me. Use me. Use me. Use me. Use me.
His submissive side had only ever come out with Auros, and never to anywhere near this extent. He knew he was going down a path from which there was no return. But he was exactly where he belonged.
Ronin came a second time, forcefully, violently, humiliatingly against the base of a throne upon which neither he nor Auros nor any other dragon would ever sit. He barely noticed. His focus was set entirely on the massive eagle in front of him — his king — and the imminent, earth-shattering climax that he knew was coming.
He didn’t have to wait long.
As the last few drops of inferior spunk dripped from the dragon’s inadequate cock, Ahab slammed Ronin’s head all the way down to his hilt and let out a deafening eagle screech. Cum rocketed into the dragon’s stomach with a force he never could’ve prepared for. Rope after thick rope of his king’s avian jizz pounded his belly relentlessly, each ejaculated with power and velocity akin to a firehose.
The bird kept an iron grip on Ronin’s horns, locking him into place as he pumped his dense load down the dragon’s throat. For Ronin, this was perfect; he didn’t want to let a single ounce of his king’s hot cum go to waste. As before, he rued being unable to taste the avian cream, as the eagle’s huge shaft caused it to bypass his tongue entirely. But the warm, pleasant feeling of it filling his insides was more than enough of a consolation prize.
And fill his insides it certainly did. Ronin had seen the eagle’s hefty nuts up close and felt their extraordinary weight, but he was still amazed at the sheer volume of sexual fluids they produced. The king’s orgasm quite simply would not stop. It felt as if it should be measured in minutes, not seconds; gallons, not ounces. Despite being around plenty of virile dragons, Ronin had never witnessed anything like it.
The fear of suffocation — of quite literally drowning in this behemoth’s cum — began to creep in around the corners of his mind as the king’s cock remained wedged in his throat, gushing its prolific seed. But, mercifully, the constant jets of cum began to taper off into intermittent spurts, and Ahab finally loosened his grip enough for his penis to reluctantly but necessarily slide out of Ronin’s overtaxed throat.
The dragon fell back, panting heavily. Ahab grabbed his cock, wet with splooge and saliva, and aimed the final ropes of his orgasm so they splattered across Ronin’s face and tongue. A reward for doing so well? A mark to confirm his servitude? It didn’t matter. Even in his exhausted state, the dragon savored the new and enticing taste of his king’s cum. He felt lucky to receive such a gift, even as the eagle’s still-swollen balls made clear that he had plenty to bestow upon all of his subjects.
And now that he was once again without, he desperately needed that majestic cock back inside of him. He felt a deep, yawning emptiness. There was a hole inside of him that this avian overlord had created… and that only he could fill.
Ronin grabbed at the eagle’s dick, but Ahab held it out of reach. Instead, he placed a soft hand on top of the dragon’s head and ruffled the tufts of hair between the horns that just minutes ago he’d abused. He looked at the dragon with eyes that were simultaneously kind and gentle and knowingly superior.
And then, for the first time since Ronin met him, he spoke, revealing a voice deep and mellifluous.
“Good boy.”
Ronin let out a whine, squirming on the ground in front of the throne. He wanted more, but knowing that he had pleased his king was enough for now.
Out of the corner of his eye, the dragon noticed a strand of cum had fallen onto one of the eagle’s gleaming toe rings. Without even thinking, Ronin dipped his head down and licked it up. His king was perfect, and that meant his jewelry had to be perfect, too.
It was a pathetic display, but it was not even close to the most shameful thing he’d done in the last half an hour. Auros still refused to meet his eye, but the puddle of precum that had formed at his feet underneath his tenting bulge gave away how he really felt watching his best friend debase himself so completely.
To be honest, Ronin had entirely forgotten that Auros and the other guards were still in the room, having focused entirely on the hulking eagle. His cheeks turned a furious crimson as he realized he’d had an audience for his humiliating show. But when he looked back up at Ahab, any shame he felt vanished. He’d do it all over again. He wanted to do it all over again, and again, and again.
The hornbill who’d escorted him in grabbed his arm and hoisted him to his feet, noticeably gentler than before. “Let’s get you to your new quarters,” he said, ushering him to the door of the throne room. “I’m sure you must be exhausted. Not many receive the king’s blessing like that on their first meeting.”
Ronin looked back at Ahab with longing. “Don’t worry,” the hornbill chuckled. “You’ll have plenty of more opportunities to have an audience with the king.”