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Mazdamundi had found out what happened, of course. While it certainly seemed as if every lizardman had partaken in the increasingly corrupted, hedonistic orgy, not everyone had. At least one of the saurus guards had run to the ruler of Hexoatl to alert him to what had become of the spawning pools.

Before any of the newly chaotic lizardmen had any time to react, he'd already amassed an army - every remaining pure and able-bodied lizardman in the city - to guard the great ziggurat and the Star Chamber atop it. Not only an army, but one headed by Kroq-Gar, the last survivor of fallen Xhotl, and current champion of Hexoatl's armies. The oldblood was, as befitting for one of his status, one of the greatest lizardman warriors who yet lived. If anyone was capable of holding back the hordes of chaos, it'd be him.

Mazdamundi was, despite his size and influence, not much of a fighter compared to his loyal subjects, much less so in comparison to Kroq-Gar. He wouldn't be out there fighting the corruption. No, he had a plan; to muster enough magic to cleanse the spawning pools. A ritual that he'd already begun.

Nakai, Gor-Rok and Tehenhauin had all felt the arcane vibrations in the air and in the tainted waters, and it'd snapped them out of the carnal revelry. They had, in a rush, taken command of the corrupted hordes and formed an army to besiege the great ziggurat, still dripping with the seed of their many climaxes. They were far greater in number, and both the corrupted and the pure knew the inevitable conclusion the siege would reach. Unless, of course, Mazdamundi managed to complete his ritual.

With how much power he held, the Lord of the Solar-City was, perhaps, one of the few living creatures capable of purging chaos. None of the corrupted lords knew for certain, but they had seen him make mountains crumble or part the oceans themselves with his magic. And so, they were in a hurry. Not only did they have to get through Kroq-Gar's line of defense, but also somehow penetrate the Star Chamber itself. The former wouldn't be so difficult, in the end. That wanton nudity and lust seemed to have an effect on the defenders. They were confused, and the arousal was infectious; already, several had fallen, and several more deserted, now taking turns in getting the chaos rutted into their bodies, as well. The latter, however, was harder. Even if they converted Kroq-Gar to their lusty cause, the lords had nowhere near enough power to challenge or interrupt Mazdamundi.

Not if they challenged him _fairly,_at any rate. Luckily, primitive notions like fairness and honor were hardly relevant to chaos. Already, the three were formulating a plan, though one that hinged entirely on convincing the fiercest of the defenders, who was sweeping his foes off the ziggurat's steep stairs with each wide, crushing strike, and showing no sign of relenting.

Though what he showed and what he felt were two different things. Kroq-Gar had long since learned to suppress any outward emotion; it only encouraged the forces of chaos, as he'd experienced in the last battle of Xhotl, when it was swarmed with demons. If he could, he would've eliminated all emotion from himself and lived only as a pawn of the Great Plan, but that'd have been too easy. The gods couldn't allow such ease in life. Inwardly, he was in turmoil, having to fight his own kin.

The chaos-rot had spread far and wide through Hexoatl in such a short time. Just as it had in Xhotl. He wasn't afraid of any demons, but the utter madness of what was happening here unsettled even him. The hordes of lizardmen, degenerated into primitive sexual beings, storming the holiest of sites with such eagerness. It disgusted him. Every erect shaft, every wanton show of hedonism just beyond the reach of his hammer. They didn't even seek to kill, but only, it seemed, to corrupt.

One after another his lieutenants were snatched from his side, too quickly for him to help while also fending off lesser saurians, each trying to pin him down so they could mutate him as well. He watched, helplessly between swarms of his former comrades assaulting him, as warriors who had only moments before fought by his side moaned passionately as they were mounted, eagerly licked up spilled seed or sucked it from the chaos-tainted lizard's throbbing cocks, only to grow ones of their own. So potent was this filth, and it was led by _lords. _

He couldn't imagine how they'd converted Nakai. Tehenhauin perhaps, and even Gor-Rok, but Nakai? The lone, fearsome wanderer, now enslaved by the fruitless desires of the flesh? It was as if Slaanesh itself was guiding their every move. They took such perverse joy in their deeds. Several fondled themselves as they fought. Others couldn't even focus enough to fight, falling back to mate with each other.

Yet he would not fall. He would stand firm as a mountain until Lord Mazdamundi finished his ritual and purged this filth from Hexoatl. He would-

A skink jumped onto his back, already humping like a feral dog at his body. It yanked his tail up as he struggled to reach it. It didn't help that he was being swarmed from every direction, keeping one hand on his hammer to keep the rest at bay. Whatever the skink was trying to accomplish, he had no idea, it couldn't possibly fuck him like this.

He felt something warm and sticky splatter over his exposed tailhole, followed by a sensation that made his entire body shiver in disgust as the smaller lizard's finger sank into him, slickened by the tainted seed of yet another one who'd managed to stroke himself to climax. He threw his back against a wall, nearly crushing the poor thing and finally managing to shake it off, but he couldn't do anything about that sickly heat. His tailhole had no choice but to accept its very first taste of cum. He felt his muscles clench as a tingly sensation slowly spread through him, leaving him sluggish.

No. He shook his head, swinging his hammer again. If he allowed anything to slow him down, he was as good as dead. Worse than dead. He would be chained by those same primitive urges as- hgk!

He'd let himself get distracted. A pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, and then, something thick and hard plunged into his slickened opening. He heard the climactic cry of one of the traitorous saurians, and that fleshy length throbbed, followed by a spurt of warmth erupting somewhere deep inside his body. He swung around, immediately dislodging the intruder - feeling his warm seed ooze from himself - and stood face to face with Tehenhauin. Of course, the assassin. His cock bucked as another rope of cum spurted from the tip, splashing onto Kroq-Gar's groin.

"Just bend over and present yourself and you'll get so much more of that," Tehenhauin hissed. His expression told Kroq-Gar all he needed to know. That glazed look in his eyes, that hazy expression of pleasure. He was lost. There'd be no negotiating.

Kroq-Gar shoved him aside, fighting the slimy sensation growing within him. He felt himself clench again, as if with need. A growing addiction was digging its hooks into him. He couldn't deny that it felt good, but he was too strong to fall so easily. Too strong to find his focus stolen by more of the mating lizardmen and their beautiful, hard spires of flesh, each so very willing to pump more of their corrupted cargo into him. No, no. Kroq-Gar's arms and legs were all beginning to feel weaker and weaker with each motion as the chaos seeped into his very blood, clouding his thoughts.

He found himself fighting those growing desires more than he was fighting his corrupted kin. With each passing moment, his legs threatened to give in, leaving him presenting himself for the horny hordes, ensuring that the taint would take. There were only a few defenders left. A glance back, though, showed the great enchanted stone gate of the Star Chamber firmly sealed. They'd never get in, even if all defenders fell. Not before Mazdamundi saved them. The seductive song of surrender grew louder and louder with each passing moment. Suddenly, with a moan, the last of Kroq-Gar's shield-brothers fell to his knees, obediently opening his mouth only to immediately have a swollen cock slammed into it. Kroq-Gar's breath quickened as he heard the other saurus gurgle happily around that meaty length, moaning and gulping as the attacker reached an almost immediate climax; the heat of battle seemed to excite the corrupted to impossible heights.

That meant he was watching, against his will, as yet another drank greedy mouthfuls of the corruption. They'd drag him away to bathe in the tainted pools so he, too, would mutate. A fate that seemed almost blissful. They'd worry no more, feeling only overwhelming pleasure and desire. One that he could share.

One last time his hammer swung, but weakly, knocking down only a few more of the corrupted. His focus was faltering, his blood-rage cooling down. Kroq-Gar never noticed the saurus who'd just knelt and taken in the corruption standing up behind him, not before he was suddenly turned around and their muzzles pressed together, sharing an unwanted, cum-filled kiss. The warrior's hand reached his featureless crotch and kneaded against it, and despite not having mutated yet, it sent tingles of weakening delight through Kroq-Gar's body. He moaned, a mouthful of tainted cum flowing into his mouth and setting his tastebuds alight. The texture of it, the musky sliminess and the thickened globs of seed tasted so very good that he-

-don't swallow. Spit it out. Die here and now. Better that than joining them-

He swallowed, feeling the warm mess slide down his throat.

-resist, dammit, the great plan has a use for you-

He moaned, sinking to his knees with the other saurus, who pulled him down. The hammer fell from his hand and he found himself laying on top of his fellow warrior, grinding against him.

The corrupted swarmed over them in an instant. Someone hoisted his thick tail out of the way with single-minded focus, and in another heartbeat, they were on top of him, that heated chaotic warmth pressing against his vulnerable, slick opening.

-fight. You survived Xhotl, you can-

Whoever was behind him, some nameless chaos-slave, found his mark and slid all the way into Kroq-Gar's ass. His body offered no resistance. No, rather his defiled pucker opened wide easily,_clenching only once he was already _taken, fireworks of ecstasy going off in the depths of his mind. Soon he'd cum, and then, he'd join the others in the spawning pools, reborn into something carnal and sexual and perverted. Already, his mind was lost, the last embers of resistance fading. Everyone else had already given in. It wasn't fair that he should deprive himself of the pleasure of being with his kin.

The stranger rutted into him rapidly, with a feverish pace. Something warm and thick splattered onto his muzzle and he opened his mouth to catch the next spurt of that addictive taste over his tongue. Through blurred eyes he saw them standing before him, stroking their cocks to bathe him in that messy beauty, each drop of their seed a precious gift to be shared and enjoyed, tasted and wallowed in like a beast in heat.

Whoever was fucking him groaned, hilted, and throbbed. More of that sweet thick warmth flowed into him, and Kroq-Gar was powerless to resist. He moaned, just like the others, pressing his ass flush against the groin of the one seeding him. Several more reached their climaxes watching his surrender, filling his mouth with more and more and_more_ chaos, more pleasure, more...

He faded away into mindless, unconscious bliss, roiling and chaotic as the ocean, even as his body drank deeply of their offered gift, unaware that he was being dragged to the pools as the rest of the corrupted set about attempting to break down the stone gates.

When Kroq-Gar finally stirred from his slumber, he was greeted to a glorious sight. A cock, bright red and beautiful, jutting from his crotch in the waters of the spawning pools, twitching along to the beat of his heart. It took him a few moments to realize that it was his own cock, an extension of his desires, and that realization left him nearly breathless. As everyone had before him, it was at that point that the beauty of lustful chaos truly dawned on him, changing the way he saw the world thanks to his mutation, and more than anything, changing how he saw his kin.

Each lizardman around him was similarly changed, and he let his eyes feast on the erotic beauty. Not only were they his kin, they were something to be desired, something to mate_with, something to _rut, something to fill him with more seed and _breed_him.

"Kroq-Gar," a low voice echoed. "There is work to do. You can rut later. Come with me and I might let you taste my cock soon enough."

Gor-Rok. Of course. Kroq-Gar stood up on trembling legs. He no longer felt any shame about openly displaying his arousal, though his body still felt weak. Rather, he hoped that the site of his proud erection would draw others to him, sharing their lust with him in turn. Or did he? He'd mutated, but there was still some hesitation, some simmering insecurity left in his mind.

"We cannot get into the Star Chamber," Gor-Rok growled. "You will help us. Mazdamundi has no idea that you've embraced us yet."

"...we'll never convince him," Kroq-Gar groaned. "Even if you - we - force him on his knees, he's _beyond_us."

"We'll figure out a way," Gor-Rok replied. He pulled his fellow Saurus out of the spawning pool, though not without stealing a greedy stroke of his slick shaft. He'd never get tired of the feeling of a warm cock in his hand. Or anywhere else on or in his body, for that matter.

Chaos, he explained, was a violation of boundaries. A transgression and an extreme. The tainted seed was merely that: a seed. Without the emotional extremes, it'd never germinate and blossom. For him, who would've never accepted that being mounted and used would be possible or acceptable, that'd been enough to help him realize how beautiful that surrender into depravity was. For Mazdamundi, ancient and world-weary, it'd take something more than that. Simply being fucked wouldn't be any worse than what he'd surely experienced during his long existence, merely another setback, a small inconvenience. Chaos was about becoming convinced, through whatever was seen, felt or heard, that going against order was the truth. A Great Plan, only far more exciting.

Just as, Gor-Rok noted, he had realized when he'd felt how good it felt to have a cock and use it for the very first time. That was his Great, Lustful Plan, now.

Kroq-Gar realized that for him, that moment of rapture had been his surrender. After the fall of Xhotl, he'd sworn to himself to never find himself overwhelmed again, and certainly to fight until his last breath. And he hadn't, he'd given in. The proof was plain as day, swollen and ready, happily poking from the slit in his groin. He cast a quick glance downwards and felt that shiver of excitement again upon seeing his new addition, bright red and ridged, promising so much pleasure.

"Aren't you worried that I'll betray you, as I betrayed Mazdamundi?" Kroq-Gar asked.

"Rr. Imagine him before you, unsuspecting and unprepared, ready for you to take. You'd not deny yourself that opportunity in favor of some false promise of hope," Gor-Rok replied. "Pleasure is all there is. You've tasted it. You'll follow it."

Kroq-Gar nodded dumbly. He wasn't sure, still. It'd felt beyond sublime, yes, and he felt those gnawing, throbbing urges in his body, a pent-up feeling that demanded to be released. But his mind hadn't fully given in yet. Certainly, he was warped, but not to the point his fellow lords had been. Yet, there was no reason to let Gor-Rok know that.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"You'll gain entry to the Star Chamber, and then you'll open the gates for the rest of us after interrupting Mazdamundi's ritual. Then, we'll sate ourselves on him until he, too, surrenders. And we shall be a new Xhotl, a new Itzal, but stronger," the saurus growled, his voice rising to roar towards the end. "A city of lust bright as the sun, all breeding and being bred by all, burning with desire. Yes..." he hissed.

In a moment of silence, he flattened his hand against Kroq-Gar's stomach. It was still flat, compared to the noticeable bump slowly swelling in Gor-Rok's own. Mixed eggs, the offspring of what felt like half of Hexoatl, their rich mixed seed having long since taken root in his body.

"If you don't have a clutch of eggs yet, perhaps you could have his. Or those of your beloved mount," he added, after a moment of thought. "Both. At once. Swollen and heavy with the offspring of both a mage-priest and a mindless, feral brute."

Kroq-Gar wanted to stop listening, stop himself from letting every word sink into his subconscious mind, heavy as a lodestone, settling down at the bottom of his unaware mind like a suggestion. He couldn't, of course. Couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about it. His mount? There truly was no limit to the perversion of chaos. Would they really do it?

He didn't know. And yet, before he'd really been able to formulate a reply, Gor-Rok, now joined by Tehenhauin, were leading him towards the great ziggurat once more. The battle had long since ended, but the hum of magic had grown stronger; it was like static electricity, thickening the air and leaving it heavy, smelling almost like thunder. At the top, Nakai was hammering at the stone gate, and it was with a sinking heart that Kroq-Gar recognized his former hammer in the kroxigor's hand.

"I cannot break it," Nakai hissed, in a rare display of frustration.

"The gates will open for Kroq-Gar," Tehenhauin spoke, softly. "At least, if I were Mazdamundi, they would. But we must fall back. If he sees us, his power will tear us limb from limb."

"He's going to do the same to him," Nakai growled. One last resonating strike at the doors later, he gave up, panting and huffing.

"Yes. But not immediately. Remember, he believes the Great Plan dictates that his victory is inevitable. He knows that we have embraced our new gifts, yes. But he will trust that Kroq-Gar successfully held us back," Tehenhauin continued, a cunning grin on his face. If there was one thing he knew how to do, it was taking down far mightier opponents. "More than anything, he believes that he cannot fail."

The rest of the corrupted began to retreat down the cum-slickened stairs of the ziggurat. It didn't take much to convince them; after all, each was more preoccupied with the pursuit of pleasure. None wanted to battle when they had the option of simply wallowing in their own sexual filth like beasts. One particularly corrupted skink - with two cocks of his own - took a moment to run his tongue up along the groove of Kroq-Gar's cum-dripping ass, scooping up as much of the spent seed as possible. So as to, perhaps, not immediately reveal what'd happened to him when Mazdamundi opened the gates.

Luckily, by the time he was alone, Kroq-Gar had gone soft enough for his cock to retreat into the puffy slit between his legs. That, he'd be unable to hide, but Mazdamundi would be preoccupied with his ritual. Hopefully too much so to pay more than a passing glance's worth of attention to him.

He took a deep breath, burning through the last vestiges of his willpower to hold back all the chaotic fantasies and lusts roiling in his mind, as he reached out to touch the thick stone gate.

To his surprise, it recognized his touch - or perhaps the absence of those known to be corrupted - and slid open, revealing the Star Chamber. There, Mazdamundi stood perfectly still, entranced and stiff, his arms seemingly frozen, raised towards the celestial glyphs emblazoned all around the inner walls.

"Have the corrupted been driven back?" Mazdamundi croaked. He was only half aware of the physical world as he reached for the winds of magic.

"For now, my lord," Kroq-Gar replied. In a way, they had. But the slann would never believe that they'd been_defeated_.

"Good. The Great Plan foretold it, as it foretells all," Mazdamundi replied, his voice strained. "I will purge this taint from Hexoatl."

The hum of magic was deafening, the orderliness feeling both comfortably familiar and yet alien at the same time. Once upon a time, that sense of order had been all Kroq-Gar ever felt. The sense of having a purpose and following it single-mindedly, knowing_that he was always on the right path and unable to deviate from it even by mistake. Yet now, he wasn't so sure, with the seed of chaos having been sown inside of him. It felt as if he was being forced into a mould he no longer fit in, and that chaotic aspect was revolted at the very idea of once again becoming a _sexless drone. No, finally, for the first time in his life, he had agency, the same kind of true free will that the greatest of the mage-priests possessed.

Why would he have to give that up? Anger blossomed in his heart and he circled the entranced slann, half prey and half predator, trying to work up the courage to interrupt what he was doing.

Mazdamundi was trying to strip away his newfound liberty, his tainted inner voice told him. He was trying to take away all these new pleasures, simply because they didn't fit into his plan. The Great Plan. All a lie, an excuse to make sure his followers worked blindly and mindlessly! If there truly was a plan so great, it was this, what he was experiencing. Letting all lizardmen feel this kind of pleasure, to truly be alive with desire and lust. The demons who brought ruin to Xhotl had been right, it was merely their methods that were lacking. Mindless destruction brought nothing new, nothing pleasurable. But _this_would; a beautiful new future of ecstasy rather than an endless war for a pipe-dream of the future.

It was all deceitful thinking, perhaps. A kind of a self-motivating train of thought to convince himself to drive a dagger into the toad-like slann's back. Or a cock into his ass. Yes, that's... better. Kroq-Gar wasn't under any illusion that doing so would convince Mazdamundi that he was wrong, but it would certainly interrupt him.

That, and it was deliciously naughty. He'd not even had any concept of naughtiness a day ago, but now he felt it. It definitely wasn't right to sink his cock into the magic-warmed slann's undefended ass, but it'd feel so very, very good. He positioned himself behind Mazdamundi, stroking his already erect cock and still getting those excited, shivering sensations as he watched some clear lust dribble from the tip. The same tip that'd soon spew more seed, capable of bringing these changes to anyone he decided.

"What are you-" Mazdamundi groaned, and time seemed to slow down.

Suddenly the pressure of magic surrounding them grew, to the point Kroq-Gar felt it would soon crush him. The mage-priest had noticed him. He could feel the old single-minded obedience beginning to set in, the changes wrought on his body beginning to recede. Only now, it felt unnatural, like something wonderful was being taken away from him.

He didn't want that.

He locked his arms around the slann's wide hips and dug his claws against his scales, trying to ensure that even if he was robbed of all control by Mazdamundi's sorcery, he'd still be able to do what he had to do. Before anything could happen, he thrust, hard, feeling the slann's magic-heated body yield around his cock as he sank in, and then-

-he was thrown back, to the sound of thunder, the world upside down-

He tumbled down the stairs of the ziggurat, only barely managing to catch himself after a few impacts with the cold stone had knocked his breath well and truly away. Every inch of him ached. Had he succeeded? Kroq-Gar glanced towards the sky, where a storm seemed to be gathering, the magical energies scattered into the atmosphere. Heavy, roiling clouds, green-tinged, like they said it was the day the polar gates fell.

No doubt Mazdamundi's spell had backfired, catastrophically so. Kroq-Gar forced himself to stand up. Searing pain for a few moments told him he'd broken something, but his body was quickly mending, mutating further under the bath of wild, chaotic energy. He crawled back up towards the Star Chamber, where he came face to face with the other lords, all gathered around Mazdamundi's prone form.

"Dead?" asked Nakai.

"No, not dead. I know what dead looks like. Spell-dazed, stunned by the disrupted ritual," Tehenhauin replied.

"What do we do with him?" Gor-Rok asked, in turn.

"Something. Before he recovers," Tehenhauin answered.

"How long?" Nakai grunted.

"How would I know? Most likely, days. Look up; the chaos moon is close. The spell Kroq-Gar interrupted was immensely powerful," Tehenhauin hissed. "Plenty of time. But the sooner, the better- oh, our champion returns," he noticed. "You still live."

"Barely," Kroq-Gar answered, limping towards the group. He felt weak, and yet, somehow energized at the same time, the discordant energy in the air fuelling his desires.

"Want to rut him? I'm sure he'd love it," the skink asked.

"I do," the kroxigor growled.

Mazdamundi only continued to mutter, his arms twitching as if trying to grasp the winds of magic again. Despite what the lords might've thought, he was still thinking, only more _slowly,_trying to divine what the Great Plan dictated. How any of this could fit into it. Somehow, it had to, for the Great Plan could not be deterred or interrupted.

"Mm, it seems the sun-lord isn't convinced," Tehenhauin grinned, his expression one of ravenous, insatiable lust. His cock twitched as he, no doubt, planned on some perverted way of "convincing" his former sovereign.

Nakai nodded, mutely. The slann looked almost pitiful with his magic taken away like this. He could barely stand, though moment by moment his senses were returning. The fallen lords knew perfectly well that they'd have to finish with him before that happened. Though Mazdamundi might be too late to save Hexoatl, if he recovered he could effortlessly raze it - and crush all four of them so thoroughly that not even the old ones could piece them pack together.

"What if we show him? Show him how good it feels to surrender to every urge and perversion?" Gor-Rok growled.

"You cannot," Mazdamundi coughed. "The Great Plan has no room for this, no possibility. Your failure has already been foretold, in the absence of a victory. Let me- mmph!"

Nakai clamped his strong, scaly hands over the lord's snout, hissing quietly. He never had enjoyed the sun-lord's lengthy monologues, and his chaotic impatience certainly hadn't changed that. More than anything, he wanted to silence him with his cock, but time was of the essence, and he was a patient hunter.

"Take him to the stables," Tehenhauin exclaimed, suddenly even more excited than before. "Let's all go. Yes, our poor mounts must be feeling so pent up from all these scents and sights..."

That was an idea so delightfully hedonistic, so very forbidden that even Nakai shuddered, imagining it. Their mounts - stegadons, most of them - had always been carnal species. While none of the lizardmen had paid them much notice before their corruption, they had_seen them rut and breed each other. Those blunt, stiff cocks of theirs were always so eager, it seemed, and _now, finally, the three lords _understood_that feeling. How beautiful mounting someone truly felt.

And the thought of letting the dumb brutes mount them, roaring and huffing as they pumped them full of gallons of thick, feral seed? That fantasy was like a drug to their chaos-addled minds, immediately both seductive and addictive. It was _beyond_a taboo, of course, but taboos only existed to be broken, now.

"Yes, it's not fair that they only watch, is it?" Gor-Rok grumbled, his hand finding his cock and stroking it as he thought of what his stegadon's massive cock might feel like inside him. What it might taste like. Most of all, he immediately pictured Mazdamundi himself under his own mount, letting the dumb brute rut him like an animal. "Kroq-Gar, you should join us, too. It'd only be fair to let Grymloq ride you for a change..."

Kroq-Gar huffed. Grymloq was his carnosaur mount. Massive and fierce, the kind of apex predator that only a few of even the saurus could dream of taming. He'd trampled or torn apart countless humans and beastmen, always at Kroq-Gar's side even in the bloodiest of battles. He felt those disgusting urges tug at him, like red-hot steel chains around his mind that inevitably pulled him towards deeper and deeper corruption. He hadn't yet surrendered to it to the same degree as the other lords had, though he was certainly feeling the seductive thrumming power of it coursing through him. The idea of worshipping the beast's thick cock, feeling it throb in unison with his own, letting it buck and twitch as it covered him in cum was potent and powerful, and he felt himself stiffen again in response. He could only mutely nod, his mouth suddenly feeling dry.

Would he really be willing to debase himself like that? Letting his feral mount sate its needs inside him?

Gor-Rok and Nakai seized Mazdamundi by his arms, hoisting the helpless lord onto their shoulders, to the sound of deafening cheer from their corrupted hordes as they made their way towards the stables and mount-pens. On the steps of the ziggurat, the last few of the pure lizardmen of Hexoatl were moaning as one by one they were pumped full of chaotic seed, only to surrender fully moments afterwards, the wonderful carnal lusts dawning on them soon after.

Mazdamundi could only watch as his subjects humiliated themselves willingly, wallowing in chaos. A few skinks had taken up the role of cleaning the larger lizardmen, slurping the tainted cum from their bodies and holes, smearing it across their own bodies. Others were yet taking turns riding one of the newly corrupted saurus, each as eager as the last to take a turn experiencing the bliss of a thick cock sinking into them for the very first time. It was chaos.

How could the Great Plan allow this? Was this all preordained? Is this our destiny, then? The gods would not be so cruel. Yet, Mazdamundi couldn't deny what was happening. Hexoatl had fallen, just as Itzal had, before it.

He was led towards the mount-pens, dragged over chaos-tainted ground, and every now and then, a skink or saurus took the opportunity to spurt another load of their cum over him. A public humiliation, he realized. They took so much pleasure in seeing their mighty lord caked in their foul seed. And yet, he himself felt nothing. Being used like this was nothing. Soon, he'd recover, and then... there was no _then._He arrived at no conclusion. There was no great revelation from the Great Plan as to how this situation could be salvaged.

That, he felt. A sting of hopelessness, something he'd not felt since Lord Kroak fell into his slumber. They arrived at the stables soon enough, and they left him slumped in the tightly-packed dirt.

Gor-Rok looked at the stables. His mount - a stegadon - wasn't here, of course, given the way he'd arrived, which was a shame. Yet, there were plenty of others, and the growing pheromone-laden haze and chaotic energy growing in the collapsing city had them all on edge. Some seemed to be nervous, stomping around in their booths or pulling on the chains holding them there. Others were obviously more aroused, their thick feral cocks dangling underneath them, half-hard and no doubt craving attention.

It made his mouth water. The sheer selection of cocks. Unlike the lizardmen, the mounts had always had those wonderful, sexy gifts. Gor-Rok could scarcely believe he'd never let one take him before. Never knelt down before them and worshipped their shafts until their thick seed spurted over him, covering him in slick heat. It seemed so obvious, now; such a pleasure he'd been denying himself due to his ignorant, old mind.

The middle of the pens had breeding racks. Again, it was nothing he'd thought of sexually before, but now, the thought of climbing onto one and letting the feral beasts have their way with him, mutually sating those primitive urges they now shared.

But before any of that, he had_to have a taste. Gor-Rok opened the pen of one particularly excited-looking stegadon and knelt next to it without any hesitation. _This is what I've become. The Great White Lizard, debasing himself with a beast's cock. If anything, the degradation of it, the evidence of his enslavement to lust, only egged him on. He was pleased to find the blunt cock of the dumb beast already hanging out of its slit, and grabbed it with both hands, guiding the flared tip to his hungry muzzle. The moment his tongue touched it, it bucked, and a gush of precum coated his tongue.

The other lords watched. Mazdamundi, perhaps most attentively of all. He could scarcely believe what he was seeing, the debauched acts of the Children of the Gods. The very gods. Reducing themselves to the level of animals, and doing so willingly. He couldn't identify the emotion he felt, watching as Gor-Rok opened his mouth wide and took that disgusting member inside it, appearing to somehow enjoy the taste given the blissful expression on his face.

Next to him, Tehenhauin was already leading his mount out. His was a green-scaled cold one, a raptor-like predator from deep in the jungles of Lustria. Unlike the stegadons, they had a keen intellect, hampered only by their bloodlust. And carnal lust, it seemed, given how excitedly it followed the skink, teeth gnashing in anticipation. It hadn't always served Tehenhauin, but it'd chosen to follow him when it saw the skink cut its former master down, proving himself equal to the saurus, who were normally the ones to ride the fierce beasts.

It knew what Tehenhauin wanted it to do before the skink had even climbed onto the rack, its cock stiffening with primal eagerness, and it was all too happy to provide, to establish its dominance over its master.

Nakai followed suit, leading his stegadon - the only mount large enough to carry the kroxigor's hulking frame - to those same racks. He shared a brief glance with Tehenhauin, some unspoken agreement to lose themselves in ecstasy together as both got into position.

That left Kroq-Gar. He was turned on beyond measure by the acts unfolding before his eyes, and his cock throbbed in sympathetic arousal as he watched the cold one mount Tehenhauin with a triumphant, squawking roar, sinking its cock deep into the skink's body. His knees threatened to buckle as Nakai's stegadon did the same, climbing on top of its master and rutting, blindly, until that blunt breeding rod finally managed to hit its mark. The both of them grunted happily, far more silent than the ecstatic cries of Tehenhauin and his new feral mate, but feeling just as much twisted, primitive joy.

Kroq-Gar looked at the stables. His mount was there, of course. Grymloq, his trusty carnosaur. Big enough to need a custom-built pen to hold him. He was torn. On the one hand, already that fiery lust was burning in his loins, but on the other, he wasn't as eager as the others. Not yet anyway. He knew that with each surrender, he'd be more like them, until he'd happily let anything mount him. Yet, he'd already betrayed Mazdamundi. He knew he had no honor left, no place in the Great Plan.

Why not take this step, too? He walked over to Grymloq's stall, stiffly. The beast nosed at him with a puff of hot, damp air, in a display of affection that the carnosaur had only ever shown him. Anyone else would quickly find their bones broken by its enormous fangs, or their flesh torn apart by its scything claws. But Kroq-Gar, Grymloq had embraced as its rider, and the two took care of each other in the field, in a relationship rare even between lizardmen; much less between a rider and mount.

And now, he noticed, his mind growing increasingly hazy in the feral muskiness of the stables, Grymloq had a need. His cock, a proud, ridged spire of pure ebon black, was hard and ready to breed. The sight of it was too much. Kroq-Gar suddenly began to understand. Why_shouldn't_ he share this moment with his trusted, beloved mount? The carnosaur wanted to breed him. As if it was reading his mind, it snorted, shuffling impatiently in its stall. It wanted to breed him, to make him its mate, not just its rider. What right did he have to deny it? The joy of filling a willing partner with its offspring.

Kroq-Gar nearly tore the door off its hinges. He wanted it. He didn't know if he was already pregnant, but if not, he wanted to carry Grymloq's clutch. He led the great beast out, but before he could embrace him, there was another thing to do.

Mazdamundi. The slann was still dazed, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts, slowly recovering from the magical backlash that'd scrambled his mind. He had a mount too. Zlaaq, an ancient stegodon. As a mage-priest, his steed had its own building, entirely.

"Guard him, Grym," Kroq-Gar ordered, and the carnosaur gave an affirmative snort, fixing its beady, cold eyes on the slann.

The gates to Mazdamundi's stable were no challenge. No lizardman would dare break in. None would even think the thought, and any intruders in Hexoatl would be swiftly dealt with. There was no security; only a pair of doors of jungle-wood, fastened with a latch that snapped between Kroq-Gar's fingers. He stepped inside.

Zlaaq looked at him with a lazy, curious stare. As the largest and perhaps oldest of all stegodons, the beast had nothing to fear, not even from predators such as Grymloq. Certainly, he wasn't harmless; when Mazdamundi rode him to battle, he trampled anyone who got in the way indiscriminately. Yet, he was a mere animal, just as intrigued as the others about the strange new scents and sounds emanating across the city.

It was that feeling of unity with the simple beasts and their lusts that Kroq-Gar felt was most appealing. He'd always felt distanced from lesser species, before. Now, though, seeing Zlaaq's erection dangling out from underneath him, he understood those yearnings. The poor thing just wanted to mate, and mate he would, with his very own master.

Kroq-Gar led him to the courtyard, where he heard Gor-Rok and his mount both grunt with satisfaction as the stegodon finally erupted, pumping what looked like gallons of seed into the saurus' mouth, the overflow washing over his chest and painting it an even purer, sexier shade of white. Tehenhauin was moaning with ecstasy as his raptor rutted into him, squawking and hissing in turn as it sought to breed his mate. Nakai showed no emotion beyond content, still beneath his own beast, but his throbbing cock told Kroq-Gar enough. It was beautiful. No living thing in Hexoatl would end this day unsatisfied.

"Are you ready, Lord Mazdamundi?" Kroq-Gar growled in a mocking tone. "It's time you show Zlaaq how much you've appreciated his company over the years."

Ever so slowly, the sluggish slaan stirred. No. Watching was one thing, but the thought of him_being mounted by a _beast, even if it was his faithful Zlaaq - it was too much. Yet his muscles failed to respond, his magic merely a weak breath of warmth rather than a firestorm. Even worse, something within him was stirring. The unending display of lust, the indiscriminate mating, the filth and the chaos combined with the storm his failure had unleashed had his mind in a state of utter disarray, where some fragmented part of his reeling mind thought it looked appealing. Desirable.

He could do nothing as Kroq-Gar lifted him onto the sturdiest of the racks with chaos-fuelled strength, nor could he fight as the saurus pried his legs apart, securing each to the thick leather straps made for much stronger beasts, leaving him open and vulnerable.

"There. Enjoy your master, Zlaaq. Let him feel what you feel," Kroq-Gar rumbled, returning his attention to Grymloq.

Rain began to fall. At first, only a trickle, but soon, a heavy storm, the water itself tainted with dark magic, thick as the blackest tar, the winds of magic mixing and mingling indiscriminately in the temporary maelstrom of energies that Kroq-Gar's betrayal - and Mazdamundi's failure - had unleashed above Hexoatl.

Mazdamundi felt it coating him, and soon, he felt a hot puff of air against his exposed hole. Zlaaq's snout pressed against him, and then a sudden jolt of pleasure followed as the beast's tongue lapped over his puckered opening. Zlaaq gave a more eager, wanton grunt, and briefly stuck its long, muscular tongue deeper into its master.

The worst part was that the slann couldn't see anything that was happening. All he heard were Zlaaq's increasingly excited huffs and snorts, the wet slapping and ecstatic cries of the fallen lords around him. All he felt was that tongue inside him, the warm splashing black rain against his scales, soaking every inch of him in chaos. A sense of stiffness was growing beneath him, uncomfortably pressing against the leather-clad rack, sending quivers of warm pleasure through his form.

Next to him, Kroq-Gar had already surrendered to Grymloq. The carnosaur's massive shaft barely fit inside him. It felt as if it might tear him apart, if not for the mutations leaving him more receptive, more flexible. What was torn apart, though, as it impaled him, was his mind. The last vestiges of his modesty, his resistance, rutted into nothing but shivering pleasure. Each ridge, as it popped through his tight pucker, sawing back and forth had him quivering with ecstasy.

Mazdamundi heard every moment of it, torn between excitement - clenching around Zlaaq's tongue - and yet feeling horrified at how eager Kroq-Gar and the others seemed. Suddenly, the tongue withdrew, leaving behind it a gaping sense of emptiness. Mazdamundi squirmed, trying to focus on his will. In one breath he could end this. He only had to focus. Yes! He could feel the power begin to crackle at his fingertips. One more moment and he'd wipe this corruption from the face of Lustria.

Zlaaq stepped over him. It grumbled against his neck, its broad, cold tongue slurping up along his spine. For the first time he could remember, Mazdamundi felt fear. Not only a fear, either. An anticipation. A shivering thrill, knowing what was about to happen as he felt that slippery, massive shaft press against his hole. He only needed a few more moments. A few more precious moments.

A breathy huff, a firm thrust. Suddenly, he was full, impossibly full. Though cold-blooded, Zlaaq's cock felt burning hot. Mazdamundi's eyes rolled back as he let out a croaking groan, involuntarily joining the others in their chorus of forbidden ecstasy. How it could feel so good, he didn't know, but as that throbbing shaft slowly spread him wider and wider, he could focus on nothing else. As it did, that strange stiff part of himself rubbed firmly against the breeding rack, which made him clench, which in turn made Zlaaq thrust into him with a sharp buck, pressing him against the leather again.

He was being rutted, turned into a breeding-mare by his very own mount. The next time he moaned, a cum-soaked shaft slipped into his mouth, and he could only gurgle around it, his tastebuds overwhelmed by the mingled tastes of lusts. He couldn't tell which of the lords it was. Truthfully, he didn't care. It felt good, pressed against his lips and thrusting in with short, energetic strokes.

More of the lizardmen had been drawn to the stables, too, in search of new pleasures. Chaos made no distinction between beings. All were equal beneath the pouring rain, and all would enjoy each other freely, from wild animals to noble slann.

It made sense, it made perfect sense.

Zlaaq bellowed as it hilted itself so deep in Mazdamundi's body that the slann was briefly afraid he might burst, and then filled him with spurt after spurt of warm, plentiful cum. What felt like gallons of it. If he wasn't pregnant yet, his new chaos-tainted womb would surely drink its fill of that bounty. The heat, the shattering wrongness and rightness of being seeded by a beast all blurred into a mind-blanking melange of overwhelming lust and desire.

Mazdamundi's own cock twitched for the first time, and he felt those joyful, primal convulsions and pulses bring forth several shots of cum, smearing over the rack and his belly, both. The shaft buried in his mouth jumped in turn, and he swallowed each spurt of the offered seed without thinking. Yet even without thoughts, that sense of clarity was growing, the truth of the Great Plan revealing itself to him in burning, undeniable ecstasy.

This was what the Great Plan had foretold, he realized. Not the extermination of lesser species, but joining_with them. It was clear as day in that glowing, post-orgasmic clarity. This is the way, the _only way, what the Old Ones would've wanted; for all the species of this war-torn planet to unite, to blend, to amalgamate. For each of them from dumb animals to beastmen, lizardmen, and humans to mate and breed wildly, embracing the pleasure and lust they felt until the world could finally be in harmony.

That was the Great Lustful Plan. Yes.

Days later, he was still their leader, their supreme warlord and commander, with each citizen of Hexoatl only more_loyal to him now that he _understood and felt what they felt.

Perhaps it wasn't as in the days of old, Mazdamundi reminisced, leaning back on his palanquin and leisurely raising his cum-caked hips for the next needy saurus. With a happy trill, the next one buried himself into the slann's soaked passage, rutting that well-used hole with a kind of feral passion. Sure, more than anything all he wanted was to sate his own needs, but there was a kind of love in it, an appreciation for his lord, one that renewed loyalty and inspired a new, feverish obedience.

Thick, warm ropes of seed spurted into him as the saurus reached a shivering climax, filling his body anew with fresh cum to mingle with the old. With that worshipful mating complete, the next took his place. Mazdamundi happily offered himself to each and everyone that wished for it, as long as they swore to follow his new plan.

First, he told them - the first four of the fallen lords all nodding eagerly, though each was too heavily pregnant to participate in the orgies, now, before the time of laying came - they'd spread this new plan to the rest of the great cities of the lizardmen. But first, they needed greater armies. He displayed his swollen belly proudly, an example set in lust. Each was to breed and be bred in turn, to lay their clutches of ever stronger offspring, until none could stand in their way. No longer did they have to wait for the spawnings.

Even things from outside the city were drawn to the revelry, the recent chaos-storm warping them into lusty and eager forms, all eager to join their swelling ranks, from great hunting-panthers to strange feathered lizards, rarely seen by even the scouts. Hexoatl turned none away, each of the reshaped lizardmen eager to be filled with eggs from any passing beast or man. Mazdamundi, perhaps most of all, already feeling his excitement build over laying Zlaaq's precious clutch and being bred anew.

The city had, perhaps, fallen, and yet it was already rising again, stronger than it's ever been before.