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Subjugation of Self

For Greywolf15000

By Draconicon

Ulric was just one of many nobles who'd witnessed the 'conquest' of their king, and like everyone else, he still reeled from the shock of the great lion's power. He stumbled along in the flood of dwarves leaving the great palace, his eyes glazed over, knocked around constantly by the stronger, quicker dwarves already eager to spread the news through the mountain. Every bump rocked his thoughts, only for them to sink back to the scene he'd just witnessed, fascination keeping him from thinking of anything else.

It had seemed so utterly impossible that someone could come to the mountain and do something like...like this. Even now, the image of King Olof filled with the cock of their new Emperor...The image burned in his mind, leaving him shaking from head to toe, forcing him to lean against a stone pillar to keep his balance.

This is impossible...this is impossible...

Yet, at the same time, what happened thrilled him on a deep level. The world felt like it was spinning as he tried to hold onto reality, everything so against its natural order. The dwarf groaned, turning to face the pillar, holding it tight like it was his anchor to what was real. His belly squished against it as he strained to think.

It almost felt like he was on one of his benders, but it wasn't alcohol sending him round the bend. It was his world getting ripped apart and put back together. He groaned, his cheeks scraping against the stone pillar as he reminded himself that this was real, that they'd lost a king and gained an emperor, and...

He was happy.

More than that, for that matter. He was...he was excited. Ulric groaned as a strange tingle ran from his head to his toes, like a strange caress down his back. Having a lion emperor still turned his world on its head, but if he let himself feel happy about it, that pleasure, that touch, felt even better.

He focused on the idea of...of approving of the new lion. Thoughts of obedience, of gleeful praise, of tribute to Leor: he made himself embrace them, and as soon as he did, he groaned as the tingles surged through him. They sparked down his spine and rested in his hips, leaving an oddly pleasurable feeling of pins and needles throughout his groin and...elsewhere.

Mmmph...feels...good... The dwarf smiled, turning around so that he could lean against the pillar rather than embrace it. The world didn't feel like it was shifting anymore. The more he embraced the lion in his mind, the more settled it felt.

He looked down at himself. His thick belly was straining the edges of a gold and purple waistcoat, lifting it up a bit at the ties for his pants. It left him aching a bit as he looked at himself, but not for the usual reasons.

This isn't...this isn't right...for a follower of someone that grand...

It was an experimental thought, nothing more, but -

Ulric gasped as the strange tingles returned, the pleasure making him grin. He...he wasn't worthy of the lion, like this. He was lowly, he was pudgy and round and...and he needed to be better than that -

Another burst of pleasure, strong enough to leave him throbbing in the tight red trousers he wore. His cock made his pants groan as it hardened, the fabric already putting up with enough strain as it was and not at all happy with something new.

He didn't care. He grabbed at his bulge in the empty halls, squeezing and rubbing at it as he enjoyed the new feeling of pleasure through subservient thought. The noble grinned, his tongue hanging out a bit as he worked himself up and up...

Yet...he didn't reach climax.

The dwarf groaned, squeezing teasing himself as much as he could through his clothes. He knew that the tightness would make things difficult, that he couldn't quite stroke himself without pulling it free, and his beard wouldn't reach low enough to cover his cock if he did. Yet, he'd gotten off while clothed before, and the pleasure from those subservient thoughts had pushed him so close...

I have to have more. I have to...I gotta find better ways of making myself think that way. That'll help me...that'll give me what I need...

Still panting under his breath, Ulric reluctantly pulled his hand away from his crotch, and made his way out of the palace. He'd need a drink to think this through...a very big drink.

#

It's sitting like...like this, right? This ain't comfortable...

The dwarf grumbled as he dragged his legs into a lotus position, fighting the strain in his muscles and the way that his gut wanted to fall forward. He ended up grabbing it and pulling it up while he got his legs in position before letting it flop back down.

At least it was easier in the privacy of his own manor. He'd taken off his clothes so that they didn't restrict his movement, but even without anyone around, Ulric still felt rather embarrassed about having everything hanging out. He forced himself to ignore the fact that his belly was pushing down on his shaft, and tried to just sit up straight and relax the way he'd seen the old priests do.

Meditation looked easy enough, but he quickly found himself getting distracted by just about everything. The cold air on his hairy back, the squishy feeling of his body against itself, the fact that his legs just wanted to sprawl out rather than stay together: it all distracted him, and if it wasn't for the pleasure waiting for him, he would have given up.

If I do this right, I'll feel even better. I just gotta try. For...for Leor, of course.

It was a half-hearted attempt to keep it framed right in his head, and he got a half-charged bit of pleasure in return. Still, it was better than nothing, and it encouraged him.

The dwarf closed his eyes, and he pushed his distractions away as best he could. There was no way that he could meditate on nothingness, he realized that much. But if he focused on one specific thing, maybe it would drive the other distractions away. And he had just the subject to focus on.

Ulric dredged up every detail that he could remember about Leor, visualizing the lion's body, the way he moved, the way he spoke. Especially the way that the Emperor spoke. He could remember every word that came from the great conqueror's mouth, remembering how he had commanded the entire assemblage of nobles, how he had guided them into that feeling of loving submission and how each of them had been entranced by his voice.

A soft groan escaped him as he pulled that memory to the surface, the lion's majestic form almost glowing in his head. He took in a deep breath and let it out, slowly slipping into 'proper' thoughts.

Someone so powerful deserves to lead, he thought in admiration, and instantly the shock of bliss hit him once more. Stronger, much stronger than before, it left him shuddering in the best of ways. His hands clenched over his knees, anchoring him to the world again as he felt his shaft throb against his belly. Eager for more, he continued, almost begging for more.

Yes...a glorious body that would rule the world, that deserves to sit upon a throne. Not a bit of flab upon him, not a piece of pudge. He deserves...all worship...

His lips turned up in a smile, only to turn into a moan as his blissful reward hit him. In an instant, he was washed away in utmost pleasure.

As his body swelled with heat and wonder, Ulric's mind flailed about for more worship for the great lion above him. He wanted to earn more, feel better. He strained, thinking becoming more difficult by the moment, yet the words coming easier than ever.

A lord with the strength of a beast and the gentility of a man...the power of a god, and the understanding and passion of a mortal...guiding us when we can't think...giving us what we need...

A particularly sharp burst of pleasure hit him for that, and he gasped, his cock sliding out from underneath his pudge. He felt a shock beneath his tailbone, right in his backside. Somehow, it only pushed him to worship further. He whispered his praises into his beard as he they came to him, and bit by bit, he felt his pleasure rising. It was...good, so good, to give worship to the lion. He had every reason to continue, and no reason to stop, and in short order, he was panting and dripping in his 'meditation.'

Ulric slid forward, almost resting his head against the ground and only stopped by his pudge as praise flowed like water from his lips. The pleasure was so addictive, so wonderful, that he only wanted more. He couldn't think, yet the words kept coming, drawn out by bliss.

Perfection...wonder...lord...god...

...

He woke up almost three hours later from the clunk-clunk of the turning cogs around him. Ulric could hardly believe that he'd spent so long doing nothing but thinking, but the proof was there, on the wall. The dwarf slowly shook his head, trying to get to his feet -

"Nngh!"

And promptly fell back to his knees, panting and shaking. His belly was coated in his own seed, long dried onto the rounded surface, and he groaned as he took in his own scent. It was thick, smelling of pure man and hedonism...and he loved it.

When he recovered enough, he pulled himself upright and took stock of the situation. Three hours, lost in bliss, just for whispering worship to the great lion. It seemed such a huge reward for such a simple action, yet, there it was. And if he received that much of a reward simply for meditating, how much more could he get if he did even more to worship his new ruler?

Slowly, a smile started to spread across Ulric's face, and a plan started taking form in the back of his mind. There was no way he'd hold back, now that he knew the rewards.

#

"Run, you maggot! Run!"

And run he did, though his beard was already soaked in sweat and his feet ached as he made his fifth lap around his personal courtyard. Ulric had never served in the dwarven military - his family had seen to that - so even running was hard for him.

With sweat running down his face, the pudgy dwarf tried to keep up his pace, groaning and grunting as he followed the walls of his manor's outer courtyard. Fifty feet to a side had seemed such a lovely number when it had been built; now it felt like a road of torture.

No, not torture...conditioning, he reminded himself, forcing himself to think more positively. I cannot...be worthy...to serve Leor...as a flabby dwarf...

Just as he hoped, the reframing sent the usual pleasurable shudder down his body, making him shiver just enough to flick some of the droplets off of him. Ulric smiled, and continued his run, the drill sergeant he'd hired keeping him running even as his legs shook from exhaustion.

He managed another lap, bringing his total up to six, before his legs gave out. The drill sergeant yelled at him as servants brought out a stool and some water, but it was bluster more than anything. He'd reached his limits, for now.

Eventually, the soldier walked over, glaring down at him.

"You're never going to be able to join the army, Lord Ulric. Not like that."

"I'm not trying to."

"Hmmph. What's your real aim?"

"To properly serve Lord Leor."

Another shiver, another reward. Simple statements of loyalty, of devotion, giving him such pleasure? Yes, he could get behind this in a big way. As the shudders faded, he realized the drill sergeant was staring at him with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged.

"You're already fit; you don't have to work at it. Me?" He gestured at his sweaty, pudgy self. "I gotta get in shape for our new Emperor."

"Hmmph. Well, if it gets you in proper shape, I won't complain."

No, I suppose you won't, he thought to himself. I wonder why more of you aren't like me...

Then again, maybe he was the odd man out. He'd yet to find another noble who'd enjoyed 'meditation' like he had, despite several meetings with other families. He'd expected to find at least someone that had indulged with loving Leor like him, but...well, suffice to say, he'd embarrassed himself several times in front of them, and needed to borrow some clothes after giving an example of praising their new Emperor.

Yet, he's worthy of worship and focus, isn't he? Otherwise, why would this feel so good?

The thought was something that he expected pleasure from, but instead, it only aroused curiosity. The dwarf leaned back, dabbing a cloth against his sweaty forehead a few times as he thought about it.

Worshipful thoughts did bring pleasure, but questioning himself didn't. Even couching the pleasure in worshipful terms wasn't enough to earn bliss. Why was that? Wasn't he doing a good job?

Apparently not, or he would have felt something with this self-examination. Ulric shook his head, putting down the cloth and taking a sip of water. The drill sergeant grunted at him.

"Ready for another few laps, maggot?"

"Mmmph...almost..."

"You gonna sit on that fat ass all day, or are you going to do something to prove your loyalty to the Emperor?"

"Heh...since when do you need me to prove that?"

"You want it as a source of motivation or not, fatso?"

"...Yes, yes I do."

It was weird, but he certainly found it a better source of motivation than anything else. Molding his body to a stronger, healthier, better, and more suitable form for the great Leor was one hell of a hot idea...

Suddenly, the tingle hit him, running from the top of his spine to the bottom before spreading out in a warm explosion from his hips outwards. His ass cheeks suddenly tightened beneath his clothes, and his cock leaped upwards, tenting his trousers immediately. Ulric leaned forward and did his best to disguise it as a small cramp, groaning all the while. His beard was sufficient to hide his grin of pleasure, but he had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning.

He knew it was some sort of reward for seeing the world properly, and he made a mental note of it. If he wished the benefits of pleasure, he had to see what he did as working towards the benefit of Leor. Making himself a better servant, thinking of the lion as his superior, motivating himself to be better for the Emperor: all of it would reward him with this.

A second, weaker pulse went through him, his balls rising, almost cumming, but it wasn't quite enough. Slowly, Ulric lifted himself back up, panting.

"Sorry...I drank the water...too fast," he said.

"Hmmph. You disgraceful... Five minutes, then back to running."

"Yes, yes...I'll be ready."

The dwarf noble settled back, taking a few deep breaths as he waited for his cock to go back down. It was hard to think when it was hard, and if he wanted to build himself up properly, he needed to pay attention to what he was doing. He needed to think...

#

Even though it was only a week since he'd started exercising, Ulric was already feeling the effects, and he no longer felt quite as much shame when he went to the saunas with the other nobles. His belly didn't hang over his crotch anymore, and the flabbiness that had clung to his rear was certainly lessened. A mixed blessing, as it turned out, considering he'd never noticed how hard the stone seats were before he'd slimmed down.

The other dwarves were on-again, off-again friends of his, a mix of philosophers and other nobles, and for a change, Ulric actually listened as they talked through their opinions on politics, and more specifically, about their new ruler.

Gone were the outright plots against the old king. Whether they liked or disliked Olof, there had always been some plot or another against him; it was the way of dwarves to look for ways of stripping power from the royal clan for their own benefit. Even a plot to remove Olof had been openly discussed at one point, but it had never gotten off of the ground since the old king had been competent enough to keep his friends from abandoning him. Yet, against Leor, there was no plotting, just...consideration.

They wonder how to serve him best, not how to remove him, Ulric observed. But not like me. They just think it's in their best interests. When will they learn it's best to serve him, because he deserves it? Because he is better than us?

He bit his lip at the now-familiar tingle. All the re-framing of his thoughts to 'realize' the glory of the lion had rewarded him with a near-constant barrage of the pleasurable sensations he'd discovered that first day, but he still treasured every new feeling. As he shifted around in the hot room, hidden by mist, the other nobles continued their debate.

"I still believe it would be better to dedicate a new palace to Leor, paid for by all the Houses. A show of submission and loyalty would do wonders for all of us."

"Are you daft? He came here to secure his back. We should begin our submission by building dwarven fortresses for him, to secure his other borders. A gift of protection will ensure rewards."

"And risk him thinking that we want him out of the mountain? He needs to see our full submission, or he will never trust us."

Ulric slowly shook his head, though he barely knew why. His companions simply felt...wrong. Not bad, just wrong, like they'd lost touch with reality. It wasn't dissimilar from when he had visited his grandfather, back when he was a child. The old man believed that they were still under the rule of another king, and talked about days gone by as if they were still relevant.

They'll learn. You can't fool Leor. He knows everything, and he'll know maneuvering when he sees it. Even if we expect rewards, we have to be sincere in service. We have to worship him properly -

Another tremble, another bitten off breath as his body burned with a new burst of pleasure. His cock almost pushed past his towel, and he had to cough to cover his little gasp. The other dwarves looked at him with raised eyebrows, stroking their beards consideringly. One, a cousin of a Duke, chuckled.

"Do you have something to say, Ulric, or are you just coughing for more wine, like usual?"

"Something to say?"

Perhaps. Perhaps it might be worthwhile to say something. Who knew, it might bring an even stronger burst of bliss, like the exercising had been done over the meditation. He cleared his throat again, stroking his beard consideringly as he spoke.

"Do any of you feel a need to worship or truly submit to the Emperor, yet?"

A simple question, with an equally simple answer. Every dwarf about him shook their head, and he sighed.

"I think that is the problem. We face an Emperor of greater power than any king that we have ever had. He's done more than assume the throne; he's conquered us. Why are you still thinking of him like just another king?"

"But he is. A king from outside, yes, but -"

"No, he's not."

Ulric shook his head. None of them understood, not on the same level as he did. There was something bigger there. They were obedient...but that wasn't enough.

"Listen to yourselves. You're talking about doing just enough to get him to leave you alone. You want to make it so he ignores you. That's not enough, and it's not right."

"What the hell are going on about, Ulric?"

"He's not a king. He's an Emperor...and maybe even more. You can't..."

He had to pause as he felt the beginning of a wave of tingles. This was going to be a big one. Smiling, he continued.

"You can't think of him like you did Olof. He's ruled bigger lands and conquered more people than we can ever imagine. Leor came to Olof, and through his greater glory, Olof was made to submit and serve. You've seen the lion. When he speaks, we listen in a way we never did before. He's something different. He...sees into us. He is greater than a mere mortal...and we need to serve him right."

"And how - I'm not admitting you're right, but I'm curious - would one do that, hmm?"

"I honestly don't know, but I know that serving him with the wrong motives is as bad as not serving him at all. We have to serve him honestly and eagerly, or he'll know. We are privileged to serve someone so mighty, and we should act like it."

Ulric had to lean back, and he hoped that everyone else would guess that he was just tired or annoyed. In reality, he was clenching his fists as his cock throbbed beneath his towel, spurting seed all over the underside of it, biting his tongue to hold back his moans. The only thing keeping them from noticing was the thick steam and the smell of sweaty dwarves.

Mmmph...worshipful service...suitable service...honest service... he thought, listing everything that he'd learned so far. What else...can I do...to serve him?

#

The answer proved to be deceptively simple, so much so that Ulric wondered how he hadn't thought of it before. Worshipful service had led him to improving himself, making his body more suitable. Being more suitable for service led him towards being more honest about the need to serve. Being honest...had led him to a tattoo parlor.

Sitting in the lobby, Ulric shuddered in anticipation as he looked down at the book in his lap. It was filled with the various designs that he'd brought to be inked into his skin, and he resisted the urge to flip through it again. He knew what pictures he'd brought for the tattoo artist, and all he'd do by looking through it again was make himself nervous.

I have to do this. I have to show my loyalty to everyone.

Even without looking through the book, he could imagine the different tattoos that would soon adorn his body. Tattoos of the Pillars of Loyalty, tattoos of the great lion Emperor, and more would flow down him like art on the walls of the palace, except this art would be devoted to the only thing worthy of true service, the one he was privileged to serve.

Ulric knew that he was modifying his own thoughts, that he was reciting worship rather than creating it, but it felt...right. His latest meditation on Leor's greatness had concluded that he should keep a record of those thoughts, reciting them when he wasn't busy. It wasn't ass-kissing, not in the way that it would have been if he thought about other dwarves this way. No, this was more...

Respect, he thought. Respect that the Emperor has more than earned.

Another burst of pleasure, and the dwarf bit his lip to keep back his moan. He didn't have to, as there were no other customers waiting, but he didn't want to lose the habit. Better to not cum in his pants for all to know.

As he waited for the tattoo artist, Ulric closed his eyes in thought. The pleasure bursts were coming less and less frequently of late, and he wasn't sure why. He was doing everything that he could think of to devote himself to the lion, to become his perfect servant. His rewards were stronger than ever, but came less and less frequently. Was he doing something wrong? Did he devote himself too incompletely?

He had to figure it out. For Leor, of course; the pleasure was...secondary.

"Ulric?"

He looked up, smiling at the tattooist coming to meet him. The dwarf was younger than him, with a three-braided beard rather than letting it hang free, and he held a case under his arm. Thin, too, rather than the usual dwarf thickness.

"Come this way. We've got a lot of work to do, from what you told me."

"Heh...yes...a lot of work, for a lot of reasons."

Tucking the book under his arm, he followed the tattooist to the back of the building. It wasn't far; there was only one room in the back for privacy, and Ulric pulled his shirt off as he stepped in. As he exposed himself, the tattooist whistled.

"Looks like you've been putting in work since the last time you were here."

"Well, I found a reason."

"Gonna have to share it, you drunk. I could use a reason like that."

Heh...I think we all could, he thought as he looked at himself. His workout regimen had given him tremendous results, melting down his gut to a core of muscle. He patted his chest, feeling the thick hair over a solid plate of pectoral muscles. No more bouncing, just a solid piece of muscular armor. His arms, while not quite at the level of a soldier, were far thicker than they had been, and bulged with new muscle.

As he sat in the stone chair in the middle of the room, his tattooist winced and pointed at his arm. Ulric looked down, and groaned. It was a tattoo that he'd gotten on a previous trip here, and the only other tattoo he'd ever had. She was some woman he no longer remembered, but rather than the beautiful figure he'd had painted on, she was distorted over his new muscles, stretched and warped. Even so, some might have liked her, but he was...repulsed.

"You're getting rid of that."

"Hey, it still looks good."

"Not anymore. I can't stand it, and it's not worthy of... Just get rid of it."

"You realize that's going to hurt?"

"It's worth it. It doesn't belong on me anymore."

It's not devoted to...him...

"Well, alright. Your coin, your body."

Ulric shook his head as he got comfortable, holding his arm out to the side as the tattooist started heating up a flat-topped branding iron. It was the only way to get rid of tattoos in the dwarven kingdom, as far as he knew, and he wasn't about to carry something from his old life into the future. This was not something that devoted him to Leor, and so, it must go.

Still, he couldn't help but be surprised at himself. This acceptance of pain was something that he'd never had before. He'd avoided it as best he could, even gone to extreme lengths to get others to suffer it for him in the past. Yet, here and now, he was willing to take a much greater pain in order to make himself suitable for someone that likely didn't even know he existed.

The wonders of Leor are many, his brain supplied, and instantly there was another burst of pleasure, just enough to leave him shivering, his skin breaking out in goosebumps. After that, there was no more questioning. He simply held out his arm and braced himself when the tattooist was ready, and as the brand pressed against his skin, burning away the top layer of skin to remove the tattoo, he felt nothing...nothing but bliss.

Ulric slumped back in his chair, tensing up as the heady reward rushed through him, pleasure burning in his veins and making his cock rise up and threaten to burst through his trousers. He panted, unable to help himself as his cock throbbed hard in his pants, pushing its way down his leg. He wanted to stop, wanted to hold back -

No, I can't stop. This is HIS reward, what we earn for serving him. It must be seen.

And the pleasure doubled at that thought, hitting hard enough to make him cum then and there. A wet stain ran down his black pants, soaking him in a way that the tattooist wouldn't be able to miss it. He didn't care. It felt too good as his muscles tensed and released, new pecs twitching, legs clenching and toes curling as he came. It felt right to show off Leor's pleasurable reward.

When it all faded, when the burning was gone and the tattoo was removed, the bearded tattooist cleared his throat. Ulric shakily turned his head, looking upwards.

"That...uh..."

"What?"

"You like pain that much, huh?"

"It's not pain I love, but who I serve."

"What the hell are you talking about, man?"

"I'm talking about Leor, and the devotion I have for him."

"Oh come on. He's a king. You getting off to a king?"

"I'm serious. I'm getting rid of that tattoo for him, and putting these ones on. Take a look."

He passed the book over, and the tattooist flipped it open. Bushy eyebrows went up at the first one, and they continued to rise as the pages were turned, one after another. Ulric knew every design that was within the pages, and he could track where they were with the expressions crossing the dwarf's face. Amusement, shock, even the occasional bit of disgust at the more erotic ones. Finally, the tattooist shut the book, shaking his head.

"There's no way that we're getting this done in one visit, you know that?"

"I know. These are my rewards for my devotion."

"You nobles are messed up in the head."

"We've been conquered by someone greater than anybody else. We should be grateful for it, not pass it off as just one more king."

"We serve him, that's enough."

"But we should do so much more..."

"Yeah, well, we'll see. He's not done much yet."

He doesn't understand, Ulric thought with a shake of his head. None of them did. There was no unseating the great Lion, the great Leor. He was too powerful, too perfect to remove, and it would be their greatest mistake to try. He wasn't just a conqueror. He was their master. He had to find some way to explain this, some way to make them understand. If nothing else, they would see him leading by example. Pleasure and devotion were his to spread.

"Alright, let's start with the words...arms, right?"

Ulric nodded.

#

Over the next month, the world changed in his view. Ulric continued his routine of meditating, working out, and debating in the sauna, furthering his understanding each day. It was a strict process, something that he kept to with as much discipline as he could summon, and it was slowly affecting those around him.

He woke up everyday with a meditation on his dreams of Leor, and then moved to the garden of his household for a deeper one. By now, there were two or three other nobles that joined him in these meditations, thinking of Leor and restructuring their thoughts of how to please him. The laughing son of Duke of Salridge that had challenged him in the saunas had come by, and most days, ended up so deep in pleasured, worshiping thoughts that he had to be forcefully woken up. He never admitted it later, but Ulric knew that the young man was falling for the great Emperor.

After that, he would go down to the former military headquarters. The dwarven army continued its training there, though Leor had moved the high command to the palace to work under him directly. Ulric exercised with the soldiers, working himself to the bone every day, until his flesh and hair were drenched with sweat. He could wrestle even the most experienced soldier to the ground these days, and he often did, just to show the results of his training.

His drill sergeant was quite proud of him, and often smirked when Ulric managed to pin some of the professional soldiers. He was pretty sure that the old man was coming around, considering he heard the lifetime soldier muttering thanks to Leor for how well the teaching had worked.

In the afternoon, he spoke with and debated the best of the dwarven nobles and their philosophers, sharing his discoveries. The sauna had become a divided place, with his meditation group and more sitting on one side, and the older nobles sitting on the other as they debated their political situation. Even the Duke of Salridge had come to his way of thinking, that their conquest was precisely what they needed, that liberation was anathema, and subjugation of their people had saved them.

Conquest as rescue, subjugation as salvation, slavery as one's saving grace. More and more, that felt correct to him.

His daily routine shaped his mind more and more to the worship of Leor, to the point where he could no longer imagine the lion as a mere mortal. When he thought of their Emperor, he saw in his mind the light of a god around the great feline, golden and mighty, and he basked in it. He saw Leor as something beyond his understanding, someone that he could and should serve without the slightest hesitation.

Every week, he rewarded himself with a new tattoo, marking his body with evidence of his loyalty. No dwarf could miss it; he walked shirtless through the city daily to show them off, to read the scriptures that he'd written to the dwarves that were unconvinced, to bring the light of Leor to the commons and the gutters. His tattooist had done remarkably well, covering his arms from wrist to shoulder, and everything from his neck to his waist with scriptures and images of the lion's power. His next one would be a series of military images along his thighs, and perhaps...

But that would be for later, and they would be a little more private. At least he had the comfort in knowing that his tattooist no longer thought him crazy. At his last appointment, he'd seen a few scripture lines on the other dwarf's lower arms. It was spreading.

Despite his work, however, Ulric found himself feasting on the pleasure of loyalty less and less, and his cravings grew. He threw himself deeper into his meditations, trying to find the what he had done to lose loyalty's bliss. For a week, he isolated himself from everyone but his closest servant, only taking time to feed himself and ensure that he wouldn't starve or faint in the middle of his spiritual retreat.

For almost a week, he was alone, and on his day of realization, he had a visitor.

#

Ulric panted for breath as he strained on the edge of climax, his hands clenching at his knees as his cock throbbed. His mind was locked on the image of Leor as god, the lion on a throne of heaven, the feline's commands no less than holy writ for the entire world. He imagined the lion's words as tattoos rolling down his legs, holy phrases spilling from his lips as he converted the world to the worship of Leor. He thought of how he had converted more than half of the noble class to worshiping the lion as they should.

Yet, despite every accomplishment, every change that he had wrought, that final pleasure remained elusive. His cock throbbed with casual lust, but he could not bring himself over the edge with the thoughts as he once had.

Why, oh Leor? Why does your pleasure not touch me? Am I not a true servant? Have I not devoted himself? I have given up my old thoughts, my old body, my old appearance. I spread your word like an outsider priest, educating my people, telling them what our true place is. I have shown you as the god you are...why do you forsake me now?

He groaned, wishing nothing more than to reach down and touch himself, to take himself over the edge and clear his head of the lust that built so strongly within it, but he held back. It wouldn't work; his cock was no longer his. He had to...had to figure this out.

The pleasure. The pleasure. It was such a powerful reward. Ever since he'd first felt it, that day when Leor claimed the dwarves and the mountain for himself, he had craved it again. He shaped himself for it, threw himself against tradition, put himself through pain and agony to feel it again. Yet, despite his best efforts, the pleasure came less and less often, though with greater and greater intensity.

Why? Why?

He whimpered, almost crying into his beard. He wanted to be good. He wanted to be the best, the most wonderful dwarf he could be for Leor, for the pleasure, for -

For the pleasure.

His breath caught in his throat, and he opened his eyes as he leaned back, staring at the stone ceiling.

The pleasure. That was the problem. His reward had become his bane. All the time that he had been pushing himself, he hadn't been doing it for Leor, but for his reward. It was no different than anything else he had done in his life. He'd done small crimes for to pay for alcohol. He'd debased himself for others to get them into his bed. He'd done so many things to keep himself in the style in which he was accustomed. Every time, he'd changed something about himself, whether it was a moral, or a job, or something else entirely.

This was no different. It was just more extensive. He'd never been a subject wishing to serve, just a dog craving pleasure.

Ulric threw himself to the ground, whispering the words of the Pillars of Loyalty and panting as his cock ground against the smooth stone. He prayed for forgiveness and, most of all, for the chance to make good on his mistakes.

"Forgive me, oh Leor, for all that I have done. I served myself when I should have served you. I see now where I have failed. Let me become your servant, with my reward being but the chance to serve. Reward me as you see fit, or punish me for my arrogance in serving myself over you, but allow me to serve you as you deserve."

Knock. Knock.

Ulric gasped, pulling himself back to a seated position. Knocking? He could hardly believe it. It wasn't time for the servant to bring him tea, nor was it time for him to be taken to bed. There were no dwarves that would disturb him now, and he couldn't think of any nobles who would visit him at home. Who -

Knock, knock.

Slightly faster, more insistent this time. The dwarf stood, his beard running down to his waist, almost brushing the tip of his insistent shaft. He didn't reach for a robe, but merely stood with his hands folded behind him.

"Come in."

The stone door opened, and Leor himself stepped in. Ulric gasped again as he instinctively threw himself to his hands and knees, bowing his head before the lion. He saw the golden, godly glow streaming off of the great feline, even though he knew it wasn't there in reality. He shivered as he whispered.

"I am not worthy of this visit, my God-Emperor."

"More worthy, perhaps, than you know. Lift your eyes, Ulric."

He shivered. The idea that the lion would visit him now, when he realized his greatest sin, terrified him. He shook as he looked up, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked upon his monarch. His god. His reason for existence.

The lion stood before him, dressed not in a royal robe, but in leather armor, as if he had just come off of the field of battle. Tawny fur flowed through the gaps, and a thick mane dominated his neck, like a crown jewel and a piece of armor at the same time, protecting him from those that would take his head. Ulric saw nothing but perfection in Leor's muscles, height, and power.

He didn't move as the God-Emperor approached, and barely resisted the urge to lower his head as a soft paw pressed against his forehead. The dwarf groaned.

"I am sorry, my God-Emperor. I...I failed in my service to you, by indulging myself."

"Yet you have done much for me, regardless."

"I could have made more, if I had served you properly from the beginning. I should never have been a servant, but a slave."

"You have learned well. When you have earned your forgiveness, there will be naught but pleasure in your service, Ulric."

"I..."

"Continue your service, with the realization that your service, your slavery, is a gift from me. Come to my palace in a month, and ask forgiveness, then."

The chance for forgiveness? He would give everything he had for that relief from his sins and mistakes. He let out a moan as his cock throbbed, slapping up against his taut, muscled belly, and he lowered his head again.

"Thank you...thank you."

#

The month passed too quickly and too slowly at the same time. Ulric embraced the true service he had discovered at Leor's feet, and turned himself entirely to the cause of the God-Emperor. There was no wondering when pleasure would come. Instead, he simply served for the sake of service, for the joy of bringing the light of the lion to the world.

And it showed. Everything he did worked. The unconverted nobles turned within a week, and he began to give them sermons, speaking of the scriptures that he wrote in the night of Leor's glory. The Duke of Salridge funded the construction of a meeting place attached to the sauna, and the Duke's son started visiting the tattooist with Ulric, beginning a 'robe' of tattoos of his own. While some spoke of him like a man possessed, their dissent was gone, replaced by a craving for service.

He continued his visits to the tattoo parlor, finding the old dwarf looking to him for ideas for tattoos for himself. Ulric was happy to share his ideas, and soon they had complementary designs, able to show greater pictures if they held arms, legs, or chests together. He, himself, wore designs of chains around his ankles and wrists, and a collar of black ink around his neck. Each one linked him to his love of service, the gift of slavery from his God-Emperor, and showed them off wherever he could.

It passed too slow for him, in that he wanted to see Leor, and yet too fast, for he feared he hadn't done enough. But the month passed in its way, and he returned to the palace, kneeling before the throne. Barely dressed in a battle loincloth, the lion's tawny fur glowed in the light as Ulric spoke.

"Great God-Emperor, I have returned."

"Sit back, Ulric. Let me see you."

The dwarf did as he was ordered, not in the least shamed by his nudity. He had walked through the city without the slightest blush, his body and every design on it exposed for everyone to see. The ink covered him from the base of his neck to the soles of his feet. Words of scripture were the most common, but between them were images of the great lion posed in strength, in victory, in power. He had taken the scene of Leor's conquest of the mountain upon his chest, his body hair forming the grasslands that the lion had come from. His legs were adorned with the images of those that would come to the worship of the lion, gathered as if in congregation at the foot of the mountain. His cock bore the chains of the lion's power, to be pleasured only at the God-Emperor's will. Dozens of designs, all made for Leor's glory.

Slowly, the lion seemed to smile, and crooked a finger at him. He stood immediately, running to the throne before bowing again before the great God-Emperor, his eyes wide, his ears open.

"How may I earn my forgiveness, great Leor?"

"You will serve me, and I will put in you a core of love and service for me. You will forever be mine. My slave, and my priest. The first of many."

Priest. The word echoed in his head, and he couldn't help smiling wider than ever before. The idea that he could serve the church of Leor - which would eventually be the entire world - was beyond anything that he had ever expected. All it required was for him to be the slave he was meant to be.

"I am whatever you will me to be, great one."

"Then begin."

Leor stripped away the loincloth he wore, allowing his cock to come free. Ulric didn't even hesitate. It was not man he served, but god. He pulled the cock head into his mouth, sucking and rolling his head from side to side along it, tasting it, feeling the slight musk of masculinity running through his nostrils and filling him with pure desire for the lion.

Up and down, he bobbed his head, taking that shaft deeper and deeper. With each swallow as it entered his throat, he felt like he was taking in the lion's forgiveness. He felt his sins of selfishness being absolved, his devotion rising to replace it. He moaned, sucking deeper, bobbing faster, taking it all the way to the hilt as soon as he could. Even as he gagged around the base, feeling that thickness inside of his throat was a reward unto itself, and he glowed inside.

He pulled back to the head, kissing it, licking it, nuzzling down the side like it was the royal scepter rather than merely a piece of meat. It was worthy of worship, as anything of Leor's was.

"You serve well, dwarf."

"More than any, you are worthy of service."

"Then stand...and present yourself to the court."

It was a command he was happy to follow. Ulric stood up and turned around, and felt himself be lifted into the lion's lap. He was faintly aware of his many converts standing around the throne, looking at him as he was filled with that thick rod of flesh, but he didn't care. Let them see his devotion. Let them see that he would do anything for his king, his emperor, his god.

He was pulled down hard, his eyes rolling back in his head as he was filled to the brim with that cock. His own leaped up, the chains imprinted on the flesh standing out in stark relief as he was bounced up and down, up and down, his hole burning as hot as his blood as he was taken. Like fire, he felt it burning him, searing him, letting him think of nothing but Leor and what he was to the great lion. A slave.

And then, the voice.

"You will serve, dwarf. You will serve like it is the only thing in life that matters. I am your focus, your love, your life, your need. There is nothing that you wish more than to have my love, and nothing that you wish to give more than your deepest devotion. I am your king, your emperor, and your god."

"King...Emperor...God."

He moaned as his great master's cock slammed into him again and again, tickling his insides as he was proven right. He was nothing more than a slave, a slave to fulfill the functions the lion God-Emperor chose. It was perfect for him.

"I am...slave..."

Ulric grinned as he pushed back, eagerly taking that thick shaft up his ass, holding it inside of him and squeezing when the lion slowed. He took it as happily as he took the words of his sovereign.

"You realize the truth. You are my slave, and I choose you to serve as my priest, the first of many. You will be blessed with my touch as you spread my service to the world. I am god, and you'll teach the world this. You will make them learn it."

"I will...I will!"

"Cum, then. Seal yourself to me."

He did. It was like the chains on his cock squeezed in just the right places, and the pleasure came crushing down, like the mountain itself had fallen on him. Ulric arched his back, pressing himself as tightly to the lion as he could as he came, shooting over the floor of the throne room. Yet, his pleasure was incomplete...until Leor filled him in turn. In that moment, he knew that his life had changed forever.

#

The life of a priest was a good one, though intensive and hard. Leor had tasked him with spreading the word of worship to the rest of the world, and while the dwarven nobility were the first to embrace their slavery, they were only a portion of the people under the mountain. If they were to give Leor the worship of the world, more slaves were needed for fighting and devotion. Where better to start than the dwarven army?

It had started simply enough with an increase of their training regimen. Not only to make them stronger and more muscled - though it was a bonus - but to make sure that they felt pride in themselves. Pride in one's body was one of the many steps to be taken on the trip to pride in service, and the dwarves took to it with a will, eager to be as strong as he was.

Using his authority as Leor's priest, Ulric promoted his drill sergeant trainer to the rank of Colonel, and set up an elite unit under him, a unit of dwarves to be educated in slavery as well as combat. He met with them daily, using the techniques his master taught him to weave the love of submission, the urge to submit, the adoration of slavery into their minds. Their need for hierarchy was already there; he just added to it with speeches and training.

Slowly, day by day, the unit changed. They embraced training with a fervor never seen out of wartime, yet came to him at the end of every day for sermons of servitude. One by one, they took the Pillars of Loyalty as tattoos along their arms. They changed their banner from the old House that they served to a golden mane, the first of many military banner changes to come. When they started to talk of Leor in their dreams, he knew they'd embraced slavery, as he had.

Gradually, he spread out to the rest of the military, then to the merchants, and from there to the commoners. Those that took to the words fastest, he picked out as priests beneath him, and began to expand the church. Some, picked by Leor, were sent out into the world to convert leaders, while others were kept close to the great lion to sate his needs.

Ulric never complained about his duties. Everything that Leor commanded him was good and right, for how could a god be wrong?

The End