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The birds were chirping again, and the dragon would have loved nothing more than to burn every one of them to ash with his fire.

Well, perhaps it would be enough just to be freed from this accursed place. But when he was bound and imprisoned and so mistreated by his captors, it was impossible not to long for the sort of fiery, violent revenge that dragons so specialized in. His claws flexed impotently within the padded leather that sheathed the deadly sharp points, and he sighed, peering at the clasp that kept the gear fixed in place: even if just one of his paws was free, there was probably some special tool or key needed to actually get the mittens off.

His snout itched, and even after... however many months he had been imprisoned this way, his reflex was still to try to rub his snout against a foreleg, but all that did was bump the snug cage that muzzled his jaws against his leg, the point of irritation unsoothed; he had to curl his tail around and twist its tip carefully through a gap in the cage to scratch it.

The chirping of the birds outside his little cave grew louder.

Going outside where they could see him was the last thing the dragon wanted to do, but he had little choice, he knew that well by now. If he tried to stay hidden in the cave when they were gathered hoping to see him, not only would they come drive him outside, they'd punish him for it too--and at this point he'd do anything to avoid the harsh and humiliating punishments they seemed to favor. So the dragon sighed, and stretched, blue and white-striped scales rippling with the movements of the powerful muscles beneath, natural strength that had brought him so far in the wild but did nothing for him here. He stretched forelegs, and hinds, tail lashing and wings extending; his jaws spread the tiny bit his muzzle would let him, longing for a proper wide yawn. It looked sunny outside, bright and warm and perfect for lying around basking in the heat, if only, if only. Nice weather meant more of the birds to watch him, and he knew he'd be in for more abuse no matter what he did. A forepaw lifted, reached back, rubbed back and forth across the curved steel plate of a belt nestled between his hind legs and locked around his hindquarters, and he groaned softly in frustration; day after day of such humiliating, degrading abuse was surely driving him mad, but what could he do to stop it, or get any relief? Only one of the birds had ever spoken his language, to tell him his was a prisoner on display for the Accord's amusement in their 'biodome', whatever that was, but since then it had acted like it couldn't understand a word he said, and there was no way he could even begin to make sense of the rapid incessant chirps of their own tongue.

The dragon sighed, rubbed the belt one more time, then straightened out and walked outside. The tweeting of the birds instantly grew louder, a wave of excitement even he could notice racing through them as he came into view. A wide rocky ledge awaited him outside, then a gentle grassy slope down from the cave mouth to a concrete slab that he had no interest in going near, considering what the birds did whenever they put him there. Beyond that, on all sides and above him, waited the invisible barriers that would shock him senseless if he grew too close, rigged to react to the heavy collar around the base of his neck. All but the birds who fed him... and abused him... stayed outside those barriers, and he directed his fiercest glare at the crowd of them on the pathways outside, where they mingled and walked around looking at the gardens and the caged creatures they kept here--him especially! But of course they did not find the caged, collared, muzzled and mittened dragon at all intimidating, only twittering excitedly to one another instead of shrieking in fright or fleeing in terror.

As he came into view many of those who had merely been walking by stopped and came over to join the others who had been waiting just to see him. The birds came in as many colors as dragons themselves, reds and blues and grays and golds and greens, and the bipedal, feathery creatures grew even more colorful when factoring in their dress--or some of them, anyway. Some opted for bright, colorful clothing, while just as many wore muted form-fitting gray. A few non-birds were out there as well, two-legged canine and feline creatures; once he had even seen one of the lesser dragons from his homeworld, their scales standing out from the feathers and fur all around despite it wearing the same gray as so many others, but it had shown no recognition of him, no understanding of his speech, and no inclination to help him get out of there.

If there were others of his own kind in his horrible place, if there was anyone who wanted to rescue him or even knew where he was, he hadn't seen any of them, either. The dragon could only wonder just how far from home the birds had taken him.

One night back home there had been bright, colorful flashes in the sky up above, standing out from the faraway dots of the stars and the brighter lights of the moons; the next day, distant quakes and rumbles from the nearest city of the lesser dragons, followed by wide columns of smoke. Other dragons had spoken of fighting between the lesser dragons and an unfamiliar feathered species, and the lesser dragons asking for aid from their massive counterparts, though he had stayed out of it himself. Two days later he had flown out to hunt, seen something odd down in one of his valleys, and after a bang and a sting in his neck he'd found himself tied down in the clutches of these infernal, sadistic bipedal birdlike creatures.

At least the different, whiter sun of this world was just as warm to bask in as the sunlight back home, and he stretched again, flapped his wings, and settled down on the sun-baked rock to enjoy the light. If he closed his eyes and ignored the scents in the air that grew less unfamiliar every day and kept his snout and claws still, he could almost forget about the restraints, almost imagine that the chattering birds were just a migrating flock that would go on their way soon, and pretend he was back in his territory, free and happy and in control of himself.

Then he would shift a little and a mitt would slide across stone, or the muzzle would stop a yawn, or his hindquarters would ache, and the spell would break as quickly as he'd managed to draw it over his senses. The dragon sighed again, hips twisting, and rolled onto his other side, poking a mitten against his caged jaws irritably.

But even that relaxation couldn't last long. More chirps sounded, from closer by, and he heard the scratching of talons on rock: his captors were coming. Almost out of reflex he shivered, his hips twitched, and his eyes snapped open for another helpless glare as a troop of three birds approached. The one in the lead waved a pole at him that issued a soft whine from its tip, and the dragon longed to squash the three of them, to shred them with his claws, bathe them in fire and make them pay for daring to abuse him as they so regularly did, but he knew he couldn't; he knew trying to resist at all would only make it worse, that they'd shock him with the collar or the pole or both, and that they'd humiliate him longer and more intensely as punishment. His tail lashed, he growled through his clamped jaws at the trio, but he had no choice; he stood, rising up to his full height and towering over the bipeds... and then ducked his head, and turned, and shuffled down the hill to be chained up and tortured yet again.

The foremost of the three birds screeched a few times, and all those outside who had stopped to watch quieted down, evidently to listen... and to see them torment him, yet again, to his dismay. Not that it would be much better to be tortured in private. The other two were wheeling along a tall cart, guiding it carefully down the slope; it was full of more restraints, he knew, so they could tie him down tightly and keep him even more thoroughly at their mercy while they abused him. It was impossible not to shudder, knowing what they were likely about to do to him, and knowing that he couldn't do a thing to stop them...

Sure, he could try, he'd tried before, but it only made things worse.

He reached the slab, darkly eying the rings driven into the concrete he was frequently chained to. The bird was still screeching at the rest of them, sometimes eliciting ripples of response, but the dragon could never tell aside from the barest guess that something meant they were impressed, or pleased, or amused. Occasionally someone might shrill back loudly, which he thought was some sort of suggestion or especial praise, whatever the avian was saying; he never understood a word of it, and they showed no interest in teaching him their language, either.

The one in charge, wearing cream and blue over crimson feathers, began to strut back and forth next to him and continued to chirp at the crowd--larger than usual, today--as the other two grabbed his limbs and pulled them where they wanted him to go. His front paws were cuffed together, then they reached up and tugged on his collar until he folded his forelegs beneath him. Both paws and collar were then chained to one of the rings fixed in the slab, the links short enough to force him to stay crouched. Sometimes they replaced his muzzle with a bridle or a big ball gag or, most humiliating, a rubbery shape filling his jaws that mimicked the shape of a dragon's cock, but today they left the snug cage muzzle in place, at least for now. His hind legs they nudged apart and then cuffed that way, fixing him in a now-familiar and demeaning position, like he was asking to be mounted!

He felt his face flush hot as they guided his tail up and out of the way, binding it to the back of his collar and leaving his hindquarters exposed. They weren't even doing anything yet and already he felt so humiliated; back home he was the strong one, the dragon in charge who commanded respect from all he met, who no one ever defeated or dominated. He never would have lifted his tail like this, not for anyone! But these bipeds, their restraints, their technology and the punishments... He couldn't do anything against them. His hips twisted again as the belt began to feel cramped, his shaft stirring in the slit they'd kept locked away beneath it since the moment he'd been captured just from anticipation of what he knew was coming.

The dragon had to stifle a groan, blushing hotter, wishing he could fly away and hide, or at last strike back and slaughter them all somehow. This would be bad enough without so many of them watching, and how they so plainly enjoyed the humiliation of the defeated, captured dragon... He shifted his hind paws, tried to kick one of them free, but the birds might not have even noticed for all the good it did. The crimson bird gestured grandly towards him with one arm, the audience chirruped and applauded, and then he grunted and quivered when he felt a tapered shape nudge against his exposed rear. When they'd first done this to him he'd howled, bucked, thrashed, protesting and struggling with all his might; it hadn't done any good, then or any other time, and now whenever they wanted to violate him the most he could bring himself to do was growl his powerless frustration into his muzzle, take a deep breath, and ready himself before they forced the thick, humiliating shape inside.

He couldn't keep from arching his neck and moaning when they started to ease the dildo into him. This one was shaped like a dragon's shaft, thick, ridged--longer and thicker than his own, even when he wasn't locked up in his slit! His own cock stirred again, from envy or from the sensation of the big toy working its way into his rear, and he groaned again as it grew the tiny bit the belt would let it and pressed against that unyielding steel plate, the aching restriction making him squirm.

Deeper it went, sending more little jolts of stimulation through him. The dragon couldn't keep from quivering, his wings rustling against his back, the ache between his hind legs deepening already. That pent up feeling seemed stronger, more intense every day and every time they abused him... But he'd been stuck in that belt since his capture, and no matter how his body longed for release, the birds had never given it to him--not that he'd ask them for something like that even if he could, no matter how badly they made him want it! A dragon didn't give in, he was too strong for that, too resilient, too proud. "Nnnngh." His tail twitched as one of the ridges rolled across the most sensitive place inside him, making him shudder, making his hips roll in desire. He wished he could control himself, but pent up as he was thanks to their treatment...

At last the dildo stopped sliding in, and he heard the taloned feet of the birds back away a few steps. The dragon panted, he squirmed, rattling his chains softly but fixed in place by them, and surprised to feel himself speared on the dragon cock in his rump as well, when it didn't move with him when his hips rolled! Usually it would start buzzing, or just stay inside him--or if he resisted too much, they'd even shocked his prostate once or twice, an indescribably intense sensation that had left him desperate and gasping! But this time was different, what were they doing?

He had just started to turn his head to try to see when something behind him began to hum, and whir, and he groaned and grit his teeth when the plug started to slip back out again, its shape teasing his prostate as it went. Were they already--

Then after pulling halfway out it slid back into him again, gradually picking up speed as it did so it felt like a slow, steady thrust. His head drooped against the slab, he huffed out a breath, he moaned from the stimulation of it, unable to pull away and feeling that hot, humiliated blush spreading over snout and cheeks as the whirring machine they'd set up behind him started to claim his rump and as the birds all chirped their amusement, the thick dildo drawing in and out of him again, and again, its ridged shape teasing him with every motion.

"Rrrnnnnh. Nnnnghh..." He grunted and twitched and curled his claws. He hated how good it felt, he hated the pleasure, hated the needy throbbing ache of his cock fighting to escape his slit, hated that their repeated abuse and denial had made his body crave release too strongly for him to control himself. Another thrust and another moan, feeling all those eyes on him as yet again he was humbled by their treatment but unable to keep quiet or keep from shuddering in pleasure, unable to keep his hips from rolling in need as his aching cock strained against the belt. It twitched in its prison when the toy claimed him yet again, forcing a moan from his jaws and a quiver of lust through his limbs.

His snout burned as he heard the birds chirping more loudly to each other, saw them craning their heads to see whatever part of his bound abused body they wanted to see most, the intensely degrading treatment only feeling worse from how his body responded--by craving more, by trying to get hard, by enjoying the stimulation despite how the avians were so plainly using it to humiliate him for their entertainment! But he couldn't stop himself. There was no getting away from that machine fucking him, not with all his paws chained down, and he gasped and twitched and jerked against his chains when the toy rolled over his prostate yet again. His cock throbbed jealously in his slit, its tip feeling nearly numb from the intense ache of pressing against that cruel belt, and he moaned louder still in growing need. This felt so much better... worse... than it should have, making the dragon more pent up and desperate and frustrated than ever as the steady pleasure rolled through him but his body wasn't allowed to react as it so badly wanted to. Almost involuntarily he thought of the bliss of mounting a dragoness, or of having her warm wet jaws wrapped around his dragonhood, the ecstasy of humping her, being fully hard and deep inside her, a powerful and dominant climax... But such thoughts only made him shudder and writhe and grind harder--harder against the toy that was claiming him, flushing hotter, his trapped cock pressing more strongly than ever on the inside of that belt.

The machine kept thrusting, steady and firm, and he couldn't pull away, he couldn't make it stop; he couldn't stop humping right back against it. His limbs felt sapped of strength, his will fading, as the stimulation stoked that desperate, burning need inside him higher and higher. He'd felt intense need other times they'd tortured him, but never like this, never so intense and all-consuming and relentless, and it was all he could do to keep his frustrated, needy groans from lifting into pleading whines, limbs trembling and hips rocking in counterpoint to the machine to help drive the dildo against his prostate in just the right way-- His cock pulsed within his slit, twitching and straining and aching, and he bit back a howl. Fuck, he needed out... He needed release, he couldn't take it--

No. He was a dragon. He couldn't give in--he would not plead, he wouldn't beg, not for these inferior creatures, not in front of such a crowd-- Not ever-- "Nnnnngh! Rrrrrgh... A-aaahnnh!" He bucked and he curled his claws in the mittens and thrust roughly against the toy that endlessly fucked him, his sides heaving. He had to get away, he couldn't take it! He couldn't, it had to stop, he needed to cum, they had to...! But there was nowhere to go, all the cuffs and chains held him in place, crouched over with his rump up for the draconic shape to claim him, on, and on...

The pent-up ache only deepened as his cock pulsed again, starting to feel like if they just turned the machine faster, maybe he could do it--maybe he could really get off despite the belt keeping him from getting hard! But he couldn't ask, he wouldn't ask, even if he thought there was a chance they would ever actually let him... He would never beg for it but fuck he needed it, he needed it so badly! "Nnnnnnnh!" he groaned again, neck arched and muzzled snout pressed to the ground as he tried to withstand the torment and humiliation and overwhelming lust, his sealed-away dragonhood throbbing and aching so horribly. He couldn't take it, he couldn't give in to them, he couldn't make it stop, there was nothing to do but lie there shuddering and moaning and rolling his hips as the machine fucked him, and all the avians watched the humiliation of their captured, defeated dragon.