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Spoils of War

Japir was nervously biting at his own claws protruding from his slender, cyan fingers, as he tried to make out any shadows moving outside of the windows of his master's cottage. He was always on edge when his master went to battle, however this time, his foes were much more infamous than ever before. His master fought on the hills of Terogia trying to defeat the creatures of darkness that were terrorizing the nearby cities and villages. And while the creatures outnumbered them by nearly twice the amount of troops, Japir did not fear for his master. However, this time, it was different.

The neighbouring state of Sparus was known for their ruthless warriors, feared around the globe. Every single nation they fought against, was eradicated from the face of the Earth with no survivors, with any noblemen and regents dismembered while conscious and paraded on pikes like banners. What would become of himself if his master were to end up like that?

He rose from his chair, his multiple thin gold chains clinking together, his only clothing apart from his long loincloth hanging down to his knees. His master was gracious and always treated him right. He wanted Japir to feel appreciated and bestowed him with jewellery from some of his slain foes. The thin and almost feminine dragon was pacing up and down in front of the entrance, his breathing barely following any sort of rhythm. How long should he wait before venturing out without his master's order? Would he get a new master? Or would he simply be free?

He gave another look to the outside. The sun was nearly completely submersed behind the pine trees of the forest which embraced the village. Then Japir saw the silhouette of a nearly two-meter dragon, with a sword almost as large supported on his shoulders. The golden gauntlets and greaves were glistening in the last rays of sunlight, while the ruby inlet ornaments of his sword flashed occasionally as a ray of light hit them. It was his master, Cyrus.

Japir hastily positioned himself a couple of meters away from the door, with his back straightened, and even though he seemed even tenser than before, he was elated. The door burst open. Behind it, the black dragon with his almost golden chest and stomach stood, panting, but still holding himself high. Sweat was dripping down from every inch of his body, while large streaks of dried blood were splattered across his chest and arms. His left nipple ring was missing with part of the nipple gone too, and another streak of dried blood ran down from the wound. However, apart from that, the dragon seemed to have mostly avoided harm. He carefully put down his sword against the wall next to the door, then his yellow eyes fixated Japir.

"I am back Japir. I hope you have not started doubting your master."

Japir was fighting hard to avoid blushing.

"O... of course not my master, I know that you can not be bested!" Japir fell on his right knee and bowed to his master. "How can I be of assistance?"

"I am filthy. Many people defiled my body with their blood and sweat. How about you start with that."

Now having put down his gauntlets and greaves, being left with only a slightly see-through black loincloth, held in place with a belt which also holds a purple piece of silk around the dragon's hip, he stomped towards his servant. While Japir was already considered large, his master still towers over him. Japir stepped aside to let his master cross the room, opening the door to his living area, and dropping himself on a large throne-like chair, crafted from wood and bone. As his master passed, his nose was assaulted by a multitude of smells. He could smell his master's armpits full of dried salty sweat, the smell of iron from his master's fallen foes' blood, as well as the dirt from the outside world, caked on his skin. Japir was so indoctrinated by his master, that as soon as the smell hit his nose and the information was sent to his brain, a reaction was activated in his body. Blood rushed down to his loins.

"I am waiting. Clean me."

Japir instantaneously walked into the living area and closed the doors to the entrance. His mouth was salivating. He approached his master and sat on his master's massive left thigh like on a saddle. It was wet from the sweat still running across Cyrus' body. Cyrus let his head fall back, giving of a long sigh of relaxation. With a twitch of the thigh Japir was sitting on, he signalled him to begin. His master's muscles were bulging and his stomach, while slightly big, was hard as a rock and Japir could lean against it, feeling no give. The rough skin, scattered with minuscule scales, felt hot and sticky, from sweat, blood and dirt. Japir opened his mouth and let his long tongue drop out, showing his eagerness to his master. He moved his head closer and placed his tongue just below where the streak of blood that was produced by his master's damaged nipple ended.

His master certainly did not have a single bath while he was gone, as the taste of salt was overpowering. This just lead to an increase in excitement from Japir, wondering how his master's musky armpits and mango-sized ballsack would taste like. With that, he slithered his tongue along the dried blood up to his master's broken nipple, meanwhile catching fresh sweat dripping down his master's body.

Japir loved the taste of blood as well as his master's sweat, so this was his paradise. With a single lap, all of it was gone, and the golden chest with its purple markings became visible again. Once he reached the nipple, he softly enclosed it with his lips, sucking lightly. The front end of the nipple was gone, probably ripped off with the ring. His master did not budge from pain, so the wound must have happened early on.

"You know what happened to the Sparus scum that did this to me?" his master asked, about to follow it with the answer.

"You tore him apart?"

Cyrus mouth formed a grin. "Aye, so I did. But it was specifically his hole that I tore apart. It was so tight and dry that he must have fainted from sheer pain as I destroyed it. Then as I came I snapped his neck."

Cyrus hand moved down to the side of the band holding his loincloth in place and produced a small golden ring, half-covered in blood. It was too small to have been on a finger and had a slightly enlarged ball on it.

"This is a gift that he so kindly offered me to give to you. After I ripped it off of his pathetic piece of meat."

Japir accepted the gift and placed it on a side table next to the throne.

"Thank you master, I greatly appreciate this!"

The thought of his master's cock nearly killing one of his foes lead to even more excitement rushing his loins.

With Japir's mind flooded with testosterone, he started to eagerly lick up the other streaks of blood across the chest. He was almost certain he could taste the difference between the different blood as the taste of iron filled his mouth again and again. The thought of his master ripping apart his opponents with no mercy further fuelled his lust. Without any words, Cyrus crossed his arms behind his head exposing his armpits. Japir extended his back, reaching up to them. As he got closer, a waft of heat hit him. He was ready to sweat himself while cleaning his master. He buried his whole face against the left pit, his face immediately wet with fresh sweat. His master immediately grabbed the back of his head with his other hand, forcing him further against the pit. Cyrus was going to determine when Japir was done, and no moment earlier was he allowed to be released from this cave of musk, sweat and heat.

While spending his first couple of seconds licking the never-ending sweat forming, Japir could feel his rock-hard erection finally pushing up his loincloth. Thankfully it was absorbing the massive amounts of precum that were forming, as he knew that his master hated getting other people's sexual fluids on him.

Japir could barely breathe as the heat was nearly unbearable. He tried to lick as fast and thoroughly as he could, his tongue already numb from the rough scales and with the only taste in his mouth left being saltiness.

Finally his master moved his head back from the pit. But of course, there were two, and after giving Japir a short look of disgust, he changed arms and forced him into the other, fresh pit, giving Japir plenty more to drink. Meanwhile, with Cyrus still not cooling off, the sweat was starting to leave Japir wet too, and his loincloth was now completely drenched in his master's sweat.

His master spoke. "Enough."

With that he released his servant, and lightly pushed him off. "We had a large feast after we killed the last of that scum, and I need to empty myself from that."

Japir knew that did not mean that his master was about to use the outhouse. Japir slid on his knees, his face in front of his master's loincloth. A massive yellow cock was hiding behind it, almost as girthy as Japir's arm. Several soft and larger scales were scattered around it. Before lifting the loincloth, the smell of dried piss hit Japir hard. His master did not care to keep his clothes clean, using his loincloth to wash off any excess piss. As he opened it like a curtain, he was salivating again. He picked up the soft and heavy meat and positioned it at the entrance of his mouth. This was not going to be easy, as his master's piss was relentless and shooting out strong.

"Don't let a drop hit the floor. After all, you must be thirsty after all this time."

His master gave off a moan as the stream of hot, yellow liquid started shooting out of his piss-slit. Japir immediately was struggling to keep up, and immediately switched from gulping it down to just opening his throat and letting it flow down. The piss tasted strong, and he knew his master must have had a huge amount of mead. As the stream finally subsided after several minutes, Cyrus gave off another moan, and with that forced his soft cock down his servant throat, holding his head with both of his hands.

"Clean it up."

With that Japir's tongue moved under his master's foreskin, trying to clean any last drop of piss away, and finally he forced it lightly into his slit. His mouth was feeling dirty and stodgy, overwhelmed with the bitter taste of piss. But he enjoyed every bit of it.

His master pulled the slowly hardening cock out of his slaves mouth and then forced his face lower, to the massive coconut-sized balls. A waft of strong manly musk hit him and as began running his tongue across his masters ridged balls, he imagined them slapping against his master's foe as he was destroying him. Every drop of dry sweat of the past weeks and precum that smeared from the loincloth against his master's balls, Japir wanted to lap up. His own cock was now dripping precum to the ground and he needed his hole to be satisfied. Cyrus' cock always made him come too.

He turned around, his hole facing his master.

"Show me how you destroyed that Sparus rat. I want you to relive the glorious feeling!"

His master rose.

"Unlike him, you will be able to handle my mace. But I shall try my best to make you feel like you were there!"

In an instant, one of Cyrus' hand gripped the head of Japir with an almost crushing force. The other hand slipped into his mouth from the side, making Japir taste his dirty fingers, reeking of his stale piss.

Thankfully the meat being rammed into his hole was already wet, otherwise he would have been in a world of pain. His master's cock slid with ease into him, all the way to the base, impaling him. The moan Japir let out was a mix of pain and pleasure.

"Yes, scream you Sparus scum. Enjoy your last moments on Earth, being blessed with my strong seed just before your end."

Cyrus started ramming his meat with such vigor that Japir's knees were scraping open on the rock floor. He was being fucked so hard that not a single sound could leave his body, his breath being completely take away by the exhaustion. As the ramming sped up even further, Cyrus pushed more of his hand inside of Japirs mouth, nearly breaking his jaw. Saliva was streaming down his chin. As his insides were being ravaged, cum started to flow from his cock, nearly unnoticed by Japir whose mind was not in this reality anymore. He was in a world of pure pleasure.

His master with a final push and a loud roar nearly impaled Japir's innards, and started pumping rope after rope of cum into his slave. He pulled out and sprayed even more on his back, as Japir's body collapsed in a pool of cum.

Cyrus also went down to his knees, and then fell forward, panting heavily. His face was now next to his slave's and he could see that Japir's eyes were closed. But he was still breathing with a slight smile of satisfaction. Cyrus exhaled a last long breath and fell asleep right there and then too.