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**_The Legend of Kamau

-

The Legend Ends_

**

The tight leather string dug into Kamau's wrists, binding his arms behind his back, the heavy weights attached to his ankles making his gait a labored shuffle. Sweat was drenching the jaguar's black fur, stretching taut over his sore muscles. Nevertheless, he kept his head high, glaring at the big, bright eyes gazing at him from the gathered crowd, lining the stone streets, leading up to the temple, with its big pyramid, flanked by its smaller brethren. The lizard warriors' sticks were prodding his back, the bastards did not give him a moment to catch his breath, forcing his steps to match the steady rhythm of the drums...

He could see their instruments, fashioned from bone, covered with hide drawn tight. Hide and bones from the slave races subjugated by the lizards, from their prisoners of war. From his people...

He had tried to hold off the warriors who had fallen upon them in the night, after many days of hard battle, had tried to allow his comrades to escape. And still, half of them were now being prodded along the paved street behind him, many of them with their heads lowered, their furs, black and orange gold both, matted with sweat, violated, defeated. Part of him wanted to shout defiant encouragement, tell them to face death with pride, but he did not dare give the scaled scum the satisfaction of shutting him up mid sentence. He was afraid they might lay bare the gnawing sense of despair in his own belly.

He knew what the lizardmen did to their prisoners. He knew what they did to his kind...

The nobles, rulers, priests, whatever they called them in their own language, were the worst. They might be small like the lesser ones in the streets, the rank and file who made for the craftsmen, farmers and lowly scouts, or light troops, but one would be unlikely to mistake them. They had big heads, wide, gaping maws and emaciated bodies that would bloat like frogs when they feasted. And feast they did, on warm blooded races, whenever they could. He had heard a Tayra shaman tell him that it made the best fuel for their magic. And, well, he himself certainly had. Kamau had seen him, squirming and whimpering helplessly as his dark furred, mustelid body had slipped into one of those vast, gaping maws, the expression on the much paler face above that cute little dash of pale orange a mix of panic and flustered arousal. After he had been so thoroughly violated, it almost seemed like a mercy when finally, the jaws closed and all Kamau could see from where he had managed to hunker down beneath the roots of an old jungle tree was the impression of his face and his twitching limbs, denting that bloated belly, as his old nemesis let out a content belch. And Kamau had been powerless to do anything but wait and pray that he would not be noticed, that the warriors and their mage lord would leave him with his shame and the loss of an ally, quietly to slip away into the cool jungle night...

The warriors...

They had them in different sizes. The normal ones, not dissimilar in build to him. Tall, muscular and quite ferocious. The large ones though would easily tower over him, big enough to swallow a jaguar whole. Kamau had seen it. Too often to count. Jaguars, cougars, maned wolves, Tayras, bats...

Also sometimes the lesser ones of their own kind in strange, orgiastic rituals...

Many of the big warriors already stood there on the smaller stone platforms, places of honor, showing off their bulging muscles, their tall bodies decorated with a mix of bones and fangs as well as gold and precious stones. Dark blue, green and brown, gleaming with sweat and oil. His nose wrinkled as he smelled their musk. A stick was shoved into his back, a snarling voice from behind him, clawed hands forcing his head to look to the throne on top of the pyramid. The one place he pointedly had avoided looking. Now the pale yellow eyes with the slitted pupils met his and the obscenely big mouth twisted into a grin. There he sat, his scales a mix of blue and pink with the dashes of deeper purple, finally paling to a light tan over his protruding ribs and the firm abdominal muscles stretching taut over the emaciated looking belly. He was decked out in precious metals, gemstones, bright feathers, almost making up for his small, stick thin frame. Yaotl...

His enemy. The scaled bastard he had sworn to one day crush under his clawed feet...

Kamau snarled, baring his teeth, finally allowed to stop, now that he was only a dozen steps away from the lizard mage, who was towering over him thanks to his elevated throne, raised on top of a small platform at the top of the pyramid, a few ornate stairs leading up to it.

"Aaaah, Kamau, how delightful of you to finally grace us with your presence...", the voice was louder than one would assume given the small, scrawny looking body. The dry chuckle echoed through the silence, the drums having fallen still the very moment he had set out to speak.

His eyes were on him, traveling up and down his naked body, the tip of his tongue flicking from his broad maw, wetting his wide lips, twisting into a pleased grin. A tingling lay in the air, like static, magic, palpable enough to make his fur start to bristle.

"Stop the games, you damn bastard...", Kamau growled, not wanting to give the lizard the satisfaction of him playing along with his stupid game.

"We both know you are going to kill me, just make it quick, unless you plan to bore me to death with the droning of your voice!"

For a moment there was silence, just a low hissing going through the ranks of the lizards, as Yaotl just looked back at him, his eyes betraying no emotion. Only the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement. Kamau felt his fur prickle, prepared to have the lizard soldiers hit him with their sticks for his disrespect to their lord. But what came instead, while not as painful as a stick to his back or head, was getting a much more humiliating response out of the black jaguar than any beating could.

"Yeeaaaaauh!", he howled, his voice taking a high pitch that made his face burn with heat. Something, something had pressed into him. Right between the crack of his muscular glutes. Something that had pushed against his sphincter, penetrated him with a slick ease that almost took away the pain. Almost.

"Aaaaah, nnnnhgh, yaaaargh!", he panted, trying without success to stifle the sounds coming from his mouth as the pressure deepened.

"Ah, what was that, Kamau?", the little bastard cupped a hand to the side of his head, as if to hear him better, his grinning mouth giving away the mockery of concern in his voice for what it was. Kamau tried to clench his ass, tried to fend off against the assault, wherever it was coming from, but, to no avail. All he got in response was a feeling of pressure, spreading, swelling, right against an all too intimate, sensitive spot. Like strong fingers fondling his insides...

"You, haaaah, you bastard, s, stop, ghhh, I, haaah, I will k, kill, hnyaaaa!"

With the last sudden push, right against the very pleasure spot he had gotten to know well as a young warrior, initiated by his own mentors into the pleasures of the flesh, Kamau felt his legs give, stumbling forward, closer towards the throne, barely able to catch himself, one leg bend, bowed forward, trembling, sweat running down his body, his pose mercifully concealing his stiff cock, or so at least he thought.

"Ah, guards, do cut him loose, I think our poor cat is barely able to keep upright like this and, we do not want to bring any more shame to the jaguars now, do we?", he sneered, his gaze wandering over the crowd of onlookers, the procession of captured jaguars, many of them already handed off as prizes, to the best warriors, to the lesser mages...

The leather strips falling to the ground, the heavy weights released, Kamau wanted nothing more than to pounce on Yaotl, pierce and crack his skull with his teeth, but...

He knew the mage was ready, as if he could see it reflected in his eyes, the vision of him being pushed to the ground, mid pounce, to have the lizards grind his sweaty, aching body into the cold stone.

So all he did was use the freedom of movement to steady himself, crouched like a cat ready to pounce, glaring, growling and snarling as he tried to ignore the steady pressure, seeming to slide in and out of his body where nothing by any rights should be. It had to be one of their twisted workings of magic. Kamau hated how it made him feel. Hated how it made his nipples grow pert and his cock stiffen, feeling the slippery, filthy sensation of sweat and precum mingling between his peeling foreskin and swelling glans. He did all he could to keep his tail from lashing with excitement.

"T, too kind, you perverted bastard...", he growled, reluctantly giving up the feeble attempts to hide his swelling erection, legs shaking as he got up. He glared at him, hoping against hope that there would be a chance to turn the tables, a chance for him to get the bastard, even if it meant the warriors would tear him to pieces right after. It would be worth it. It would be something...

The pressure in his sensitive insides had let up a bit, but Kamau could still feel it, the soft, steady rubbing that made him sweat, made his body tremble.

"Even if you kill me today, my kind will never bow to you. We, hnnnh, we will make you, pay..."

His breath was growing heavy. Yaotl made some small motion with his hand, some magic gesture no doubt. He was so close. Infuriatingly so. So close he could have taken him had they been on the field of battle, had Kamau managed to take the initiative. It barely took heartbeat for him to feel the magic doing its work, felt the touch, the pressure, that made him feel weak with lust, when he was already so weak with exhaustion. Yaotl had deigned to let him say his piece. But now, he was grinning so wide his gaping mouth slid open, revealing the yawning darkness that lay behind the rows of teeth.

"Oh, I will make you bow, cat, I will make you bend. And worst of all, my dear Kamau, I will make you beg. Oh, you will wish you had given yourself to me freely, so I would spare you letting everyone see just what I will make of you...", he said, a hissing whisper, before he gestured, rising from his throne to address the crowd. And even though his loincloth was mostly hiding it, Kamau could make out that his nemesis, too, was starting to have his cock swell...

"My subjects, today we bring you the jaguar tribe, and with it, Kamau, their leader. As much as they may have attempted to defy their place in the great order we envisioned, by our might, you see their warriors bound in chains. By our might, you see them stripped, see them brought to you as the offerings to our grand realm they were always meant to be! Today, my subjects, they belong to us. Today, we shall feast and accept them as tribute to our kind!"

Cheers rose from the crowd. Cheers as his captured warriors, so many of them barely grown to manhood, were being lifted up by arms tied together, hoisted up by the warriors like trophies, scaly hands groping their sweat matted bodies, hissing cheers, the crowd knowing what would come next...

But Kamau's gaze was wrenched, as if by an invisible hand, to look straight at Yaotl, the mage lord back on his throne, making a beckoning motion with his hand. Kamau felt the pressure on his back and tried to resist, but when he felt the invisible force pressing against his sensitive insides, his strength left him. He just stumbled forward, ending up half on the ground, right in front of the throne.

He was close enough to reach out, to touch, close enough to smell the reptile's musk, his now unmistakable arousal. He felt both sickened and shamefully excited. He knew the bastard was manipulating him with his magic, but it was still his body, his cock betraying him. Making him hold back a moan as suddenly, he felt it, disembodied hands, grabbing him under his arms, hoisting him up. He could even see them, shimmering slightly in the air, like a half spectral copy of Yaotl's own, just bigger, like on the statues of scaled deities the bastards erected in their cities.

They were holding him in the air, exposing his body, his drooling cock, his sore, muscles, the bushy armpits from which the sweat had been running down his flanks.

"Now, Kamau, let me show you how pleasurable it is to submit to your betters..."

The jaguar groaned, feeling even more hands, running down his arms, kneading his thick biceps, down his back. He almost cried out when he felt them starting to massage his toned ass, fingers slipping in the crag, seeming to push the invisible force inside of him even deeper when one pressed playfully against his pucker. His cry echoed through the city. His face burned. His cock was throbbing desperately, standing at full mast and still getting nothing more than a short brush of mage hands as they traveled back up his body, rubbing over his abs, before they came to halt on his meaty pecs...

Kamau tried not to think of the younger jaguar warriors who would lie in a sweaty heap of toned bodies with him, after a combat lesson, that so often would taper off into playful, more affectionate wrestling. Of the admiring hands feeling up his thick muscles, the muzzles pressed into his chestfur to inhale, the tongue lapping over his stiffening nipples...

He could not help the moan escaping his throat as his chest was teased, played with, nipples feeling the strange friction of the not quite solid mage hands. All while the pressure against his sensitive insides increased and a spurt of precum ran down his throbbing shaft...

Kamau let out another embarrassingly high-pitched moan as he felt something wet and slick touching his swollen glans. The thick, viscous coating of precum replaced by something else, not quite as warm, thinner, like spit...

His eyes widened as he saw the obscenely long tongue that had slid from the mage lord's mouth and only ever so briefly lap over his aching cock. A tease that made him fight the urge to cry out. For more.

It lapped over his balls, right where the musky sweat was especially potent. And then, it slipped between his ass cheeks. Kamau's eyes widened, his breath turned harsh, panting, his jaws trembling as he tried so desperately to quell his voice. The tongue was probing his sphincter, licking over it, undoubtedly teasting the earthy, musky flavor that had built up there. He could see the pleased expression on the lizard's face. And then, it pushed in.

The jaguar's cock jolted, he was dripping, he was shaking. And he hated himself for it. Deeper, ever deeper it went. It was different from before, different from the incorporeal feel of pure pressure. This was slick, wet, lewdly organic. And he could not help it. He could not stop his body from bucking weakly, as if to beg the tongue to go deeper. And just in that moment, just when he felt that a few good thrusts would send him over the edge, Yaotl withdrew.

A hissing laugh escaped his mouth, when he was done deliberately licking his lips.

"Oh, my, what an intense flavor you have build up there. What a dirty cat you are, my dear Kamau. I think we have to show them, or they would not believe this of their champion and leader..."

Yaotl made another quick gesture with his hands. And as if mirroring his motions, the mage hands holding him turned, and in turn, made him face the crowd, cock throbbing and stiff, his body a mess of sweat and bulging muscles quivering with painfully urgent lust.

His eyes met those of his captured tribesmen. Meeting a mirror of shame and humiliating arousal. Some where leaking precum from stiff cocks as the giant warrior speared them on their mighty shafts. With some, he thought he could see a dent in their firm, muscular abdomen, where the obscenely large organs of the lizards was forcing its way through a pliant, mammalian body. Some others were luckier, they merely ended up with a whole gang of the smaller warriors raping them, trying to fight over a position where their thick, drooling cocks could find a warm, tight hole or mouth forced open...

"This is the fate of all who foolishly defy us. It will be your fate and the fate of every male of your line. Nothing but a tribute to our great empire!"

Yaotl turned his body around to face him again. His grin even wider as he was getting up from his throne, not bothering to hide the outline of his obscenely oversized cock, stiff and leaking, filling the air with the heavy scent of his musk...

"Now, my foolish jaguar, I may have been greedy, sampling your most flavorful parts first. But, it is time now for me to enjoy all of your delicious aroma, the taste of one suffering utter defeat..."

He was so close now, reaching out, not with a mage hand this time, scaled fingers stroking over his sweaty fur, before his tongue flicked out again, finding its way to his exposed armpits, giving each a long, savoring lick as he saw the bastard inhale, saw his excitement. He felt the mage hands lowering him down far enough for Yaotl to grab his meaty pecs, starting to squeeze, as he kept licking, almost as eager as his young jaguar warriors would, nose and muzzles in his pits, one on each side, sometimes more waiting their turn. Their tongues had been a bit rougher, warmer, cute when they were so eagerly taking in his musky scent. With the lizard mage, there was nothing of that gentle, playful affection, just lust and greedy hunger. And still, it made his cock throb just the same, if not even more so. His teeth were gritted, his breaths only barely betraying the moan as he felt reptilian claws teasing his nipples, scraping over his sensitive nubs of flesh, twisting them...

"Nhhh, haaaaaaah!"

Damn the bastard!

Kamau just had not been able to hold out any longer. His moan betraying a lusty, needy note that made him burn with shame, as his eyes met Yaotl's. It was that very moment he realized, fully took in, that whatever he had done to him, whatever he had used to push against his most sensitive spot, deep inside of him, it had stopped for a while now. That now it was just the mage's own touch, hands, tongue...

And Kamau could not help but let out another cry, an adult's mockery of the needy sound of a kitten.

"Ah, you really like it when I play with your chest, don't you?", the bastard croaked, one hand going down to his groin, rubbing Kamau's cock. "Such a filthy, dirty mammal. Yess, let them all hear..."

A sharp twist of his pert swollen nipples made the jaguar cry out, louder than before. His whole body was shaking, his cock drooling with lusty pleasure, as the tongue resumed eating out the musky flavor from his armpits, the salt of sweat, unwashed jaguar, male stewing in his own scent...

Kamau wished the obvious appreciation did not give him that strange, unwanted sense of pride. It was the worst thing the lizards did to their slaves, to the warmblooded species they had fully broken in. Making them lust for it. Turning them into willing toys, willing offerings to their appetites...

Now at least Kamau thought he understood how they could end that way. Felt the call of lust, of flesh weak to temptation, arousal, to the lewd fascination with its own degradation to nothing but meat...

He knew his body had given up the instinct to fight, to flee, to assert dominance. All that was left was the desire for release, lust, not caring how much it had to debase itself achieve the object of desire. It was just the pure will to resist that kept him from debasing himself even further. And every lick, every squeeze of bulging muscles, of sensitive nipples, seemed to grind away at it.

He could not say how long the groping, licking and teasing continued. Every now and then, Yaotl would grace his aching cock with a quick stroke, maybe a swift lick. And each time, he ended up making the Jaguar give voice to his frustrated arousal. It was torture and still, part of him knew it was a lust like he never had quite felt in his life. Shame, longing, heat that ate at his brain like a fever...

And then, finally, with a quick stroke from his full balls to his drooling tip, Yaotl seemed to have tired of the game. Kamau suppressed the pleading groan, but his shaking breath and the way his cock throbbed helplessly, oozing fresh precum, had to tell the lizard mage all he needed to know. A mage hand was patting him on the head, like a good pet, as he felt them moving again, adjusting his position, so he was now orthogonal to the imaginary line from the streets up the stairs to the temple. At first he was puzzling about what was in store for him. But then, when the mage hands spread his legs apart, he knew what was to come. His whole body started to tremble, his sphincter trying to clench shut.

His eyes were traveling over the crowd of spectators, over his fellow jaguars and the other warm blooded slave races, as he was flipped over on his back. Arms held by the mage hands, legs spread, his cock standing stiff in the air for all to see. For his young captured warriors to watch as they in turn were being taken. Some made to suck on a thick, pulsing lizard cock as two others together pressed into their tight asses. The asses he had deflowered himself in many cases. He remembered them, warm and tight as they milked his throbbing cock, just like they now were milking those of their captors. And just like him, they had been brought low, until the heated lust of young, horny cat had overtaken any pride of a warrior. Some of them just cried out, mewling for more as the huge warriors were spearing them on their erect cocks, slamming them down until their bodies betrayed the bulges of the stiff rods spearing them. One of them came with a shameless cry, leaving his sweat matted golden fur with the beautiful black spots smeared with sticky white as he kept moaning, spurting, tongue lolling out, before his face was forced up to let the long reptile tongue claim his mouth. His eyes looked glassy, his chest was rising and falling quickly...

But he did not have much time to watch, not when Yaotl, the tiny bastard was now looming over him, stroking his slick, dripping cock with a sound of pleasure, the other hand on Kamau's heaving abdomen, claws scraping over fur as he grinned widely. The black jaguar tried to return the look with a defiant snarl, but he knew it came out feeble. He knew his heart was thumping with painfully conflicting emotions as the tip of the bastard's stiff cock pushed slick and hard against his clenched ring of muscles.

He tried to fight it. It only seemed to arouse Yaotl more. He was not even brutal, if anything, he made sure every push, every bit of slick pressure would make his whole body shiver. Of course, the bastard wanted to utterly humiliate him. It became a rhythm, push, retreat, wait, push retreat, wait...

And before long, his body began to resist his own efforts to clench tight. Soon, he felt a shudder of loss of sweet sensation when the bastard retreated. And soon, Kamau just gave in...

He could not even help the shuddering groan of pleasure when finally, his pucker already slick and dripping with precum, his body gave and Yaotl slid in, slick, like a well oiled sword into its sheath...

"Aaah, see, now, does that not feel good my dear, foolish Jaguar? Why deny yourself when every fiber of your body craves so badly for me to make you mine, only mine...?", he chuckled, looking him in the eyes, leaning down, resting both hands on his muscular abdomen and chest, pushing against him, smearing some of his own precum into his fur and skin, the sticky fluid joining with Kamau's own...

"You, you, haaah, can eat my sweaty ass, you damn bastard! If it, haah, wasn't for, for all your dirty tricks, I, I'd, haaah, tear you apart!", he spat out, trying to fight the pleasure of the penetration, the way his body responded to the pressure of slick hands on his sweaty muscles. All he got in return was a hissing laugh and a grin full of cruel, merciless mockery and delight.

"But my dear, dumb Jaguar, I already did that, have you forgotten?", he chuckled, making a point to flick out his tongue, licking his lips, before it went down to slurp over his nipples, only to snake right to his mouth as it opened in a gasp of pleasure. The invasion was brief, but he could taste himself on it. The dirty aroma of unwashed, horny jaguar male, of his pits, his ball sweat and the crack of his ass.

"Don't worry, I will get back to eating your ass soon enough. Soon, my dear, tasty hunk of muscle, I will make you know the indescribable pleasure of being my meal..."

And with that, the lizard began to fuck him. No more teasing, none of that slow, almost gentle impaling on his throbbing length, no, it was all hard, unrelenting thrusts. A steady rhythm of flesh slapping against flesh, a slick sensation of the erect cock, hard like a metal rod, rubbing his most sensitive spots raw. He could see his expression, mockery giving way to pure, earnest lust. Yaotl enjoyed fucking him. And every time he felt his balls slap against his spread ass cheeks, he could not help the needy moans as he was taken, as fingers dug into his meaty pecs and the thrusts seemed to get more and more frantic.

The pressure in his own painfully full balls was building up. Kamau knew that every fiber of him just wanted to come already. It had been too much teasing, too much torturing his lustful, shameless body. He was fighting as best he could not to give out before the lizard would. He had hoped that if the bastard spent himself inside of him, he might be exhausted long enough for Kamau to fight down his treacherous, throbbing erection, that searing feeling of bubbling heat in his balls. But second by second, it became clearer that the Jaguar would not last that long. He just could not take any more. Not when claws grazed his stiff, aching nipples, not when the air stank of musk, sweat and sex, not when fighting back became so, so damn hard...

His cock ached, too full, too sensitive, when he felt it slab against Yaotl's scally abdomen, against his own, leaving dirty smears of precum. His whole body was searing with heat as the lizard kept toying with him. He saw it in his filthy grin as he stared down at him as he hammered into his sore ass. And then, just as Kamau let out a feeble, too high, too raw gasp of pleasure, he saw the wide mouth open, the tongue flicking out, long, slick, dripping...

"Hnnnnyaaaaaah!", he cried out, his whole body burning hot as he felt it, just one lick, from his full balls to his leaking tip.

His cum erupted in a fountain of sticky, warm pleasure, rope after rope of white splattering over his body, over Yaotl's tongue, over the stone beneath them. It just kept going and he could not help it. All he could do was throw back his head and let the heat of the climax take him. His body was jerking, bucking against the firm grip of the disembodied mage hands holding him in the air. And even more of it, more of him came gushing out. Yaotl's hand had replaced his tongue, stroking him, milking his cock as the he spurted more of his thick, virile seed. His whole body tingled with the afterglow, like thousand tiny needles prickling on his sensitive skin. And still, Yaotl kept fucking him, drawing it out, coaxing moan after moan from him until finally, with a last rapid crescendo, he emptied himself into him, making him feel the humiliating sensation of slick, slippery seed gushing deep inside him. Seeping into the sensitive membrane that lined his guts...

And the bastard did not even seem exhausted. If anything, he seemed buzzing with vibrant energy, his fingers tracing Kamau's own quivering muscles, stroking, fondling, an almost pleasant if too intense massage of his aching body. Making him feel a new, strange kind of heat pulsing through him.

Only way too late, when he had already started to flex, started to let his body twitch with the rhythm of the electric touch, did he realize what was going on. And he was too weak from afterglow to stop it.

"You, you bastard... Haaah, you sick, dirty, cowardly...", he did not get to finish. The jolt of pleasure as the fingers rubbed teasingly over his still pert nipples making him trail off into a feeble moan.

"Ah, but Kamau, do you really think I would waste such a fine, fine pelt as yours?", the mage chuckled, letting sparks of purple magic dance over his skin, creeping under it, making him feel a strange sensation of something swelling, pumping, melting beneath. Something that made every touch suddenly feel both weirdly dulled and yet raw and intense, as if all of his body was clad in the same, sensitive skin as his cock, slick with his own juices, covered by a layer of increasingly dull, foreign seeming foreskin. And then, the bastard took his head between his fingers, leaning forward, driving his still hard shaft deeper inside. And now he could feel the strange sensation all over his face, the back of his head, the slicked back braids of matted hair falling to his shoulders...

It was the lizards' way, one of their many ways, as they so proudly proclaimed, to skin a cat. Skin it alive, skin it without even a stroke of a knife. And it did not stop until the strange, tingling sensation had spread all over his body, down to the tips of his toes. And then, finally, Yaotl withdrew, leaving his ass gaping, dripping and slick. And though Kamau did not realize it yet, that, too, was part of the act...

Slender reptile fingers were kneading and toying with his painfully loose sphincter. Claws were scraping against his abused flesh, but never breaking skin. The prickling sensation swelled right where is body naturally came apart. His gaping hole was being stretched, widened. And only then did he realize what the sick bastard had planned for him. And it was of course too late to fight back.

Kamau cried out with pain and pleasure as he felt like his ass was being ripped wide open. But, no, there would be none of that, no swift mercy of bleeding out from his wrecked guts. Yaotl hissed in triumph as the jaguar's soft black fur just came off. Not just the fur, but the skin, the tiniest bit of flesh, of stretchy, abusable muscle. No sphincter ever had been stretched as wide as what this strange, stolen outer layer was made to endure. For an agonizing, arousing moment, Kamau felt it coursing through his body. Then came the dull, strange sensation as it just peeled off. As the Jaguar started to slip out of his skin, ass first. His flesh stripped naked was merging from the obscenely stretched hole that yet did not make his pelt rip apart. His cock jolted when it came next, with his hips, his thighs, his lower back and abdomen following right behind. Then everything went really fast. In one quick pull, the Jaguar was stripped naked, yowling as he felt it on his nipples, were again, the outermost layer of flesh seemed to come off along the skin.

It was still nothing to the disturbing sensation of his face coming off. His hair, his everything...

He was naked, like never before, feeling the air on over sensitive flesh. It hurt, but not as much as he would think, not as much as it had to when they cut the skin with one of their sharp, obsidian knife.

No, this was the method of the true mage lord. They had no need for blades, no need for anything but their own power. And when he caught glimpses of his own, naked, heaving body, he saw that it was covered with a beautiful stretch of new skin. Skin almost as dark as his fur, only that instead of bluish black, he was looking at the deepest, richest brown. Smooth, hairless, already shimmering with fresh sweat and smelling musky, of panther and male...

He heard the gasping, the hissing calls from the crowd, the feeble sounds of his fellow jaguars, as Yaotl flung it in the air, where invisible forces seemed to stretch it out, show it off. The perfect unbroken pelt of a jaguar, still showing the hints of the muscular form it once had covered...

And where his whole body had been forced through, his sphincter had shrunken back, leaving no tear or stretch mark, just his perfect, pitch dark fur, smelling of his musky sweat...

"Servants, prepare him well. Kamau will have the honor to grace my bed, as I will enjoy some of his prize offspring on it, very soon..."

Kamau felt his guts clenching, hoping the bastard was just trying to mock him. That his two young sons, not ready yet to join the fight, were still safe, thanks to his own sacrifice...

But the scaled bastard did not even glance his way, his eyes were on the crowd, on the warriors who had taken the price of his young warriors, slaking their lust on them, leaving the black and golden cats panting, whimpering, pelts smeared with their own juices, cocks still stiff, eyes dull with defeat and shameful lust...

Some of them soon might share his fate. The lizards loved soft jaguar pelts. Others though...

"My people, your enemies have been broken, their pride ground into the dust, their bodies have slaked your lust, to repay you for their insolent defiance againsat our just right to rule!"

Yaotl threw his hands in the air, making Kamau's body jerk upright, showing him off, naked, his head darker, a fresh covering of short, velvety hair on his face, his brown eyes showing the same dull mix of lust and shame as the rest of his people. And his cock stiff and leaking, still swollen with blood pumping as the sweat ran from his now smooth, hairless pits...

"Now, my people, it is time for us to feast, as the victors should on their defeated enemies..."

Kamau let out a muffled gasp, his body wriggling helplessly as he saw a group of small lizards coming forward with a thick, metal spit, the end blunt, almost shaped like the tip of a thick, long cock. And in their wake, there came others, carrying jars of oil, bags of spices, wood and coal and stones to set the improvised fire pit in. Sweat was running down his body. The fear of the lizard's threat mixing with the shameful realization that he was also feeling fear for his own life. More than in the heat of battle, more than at the night before, when he knew he might fall tomorrow. This was the fear of death that would not come with any chance of snatching a last fleeting handful of glory from it. The fear of a death that would shame him. And the knowledge that he lacked the strength to face it with dignity...

The fear that part of him had already given up. A part now relishing that last, humilating ecstasy...

He watched with a shameful lack of outrage as the first of his young warriors was just eaten straight from the meaty shaft he was impaled on. He saw him twisting, moaning, cock twitching as the long tongue snaked around him, leaving his pits and chest and abdomen slick with sticky saliva as the large head was thrown back and the feline twitching legs were left sticking out from the maw. He thought he could see an eruption of sticky white, before his hips vanished, the tail lashing with the intense sensation, before the maw finally closed, slurped it up, an obscene bulge traveling down the broad neck, before the warrior let out a belch that shook his bulging body.

He could hear the hissing laughter from the crowd, before he cast down his gaze to be spared the rest.

Kamau had his own fate to agonize over. The realization came with the many smooth, scaled fingers, starting to rub the oil and the spices into his new, sensitive skin, as other servants began to work on the coal and wood, only to have Yaotl impatiently snap his finger, making the whole setup erupt into a blaze of heat that made smaller lizards yelp and scramble back.

It made Kamau's muzzle twist into the briefest hint of a smile, seeing some singed scales and smelling the briefest whiff of the aroma of one of the bastards' own flesh cooking. Well, he knew the lizards would use their own kind, maybe it should not really bring him any pleasure. But, it was something at least...

Something to help him bear the agonizingly arousing sensation of the slick oil and the prickle of the spices, especially when they worked his perpetually pert nipples, his unflinchingly erect cock...

They went everywhere. They especially did not spare his well used ass. They even pushed their hands and thin arms into him, coating him so thoroughly he felt slick all the way through. He knew why they did it. He knew what came next. He saw the gleaming metal pole, waiting to impale him...

And he hated how part of him was quivering in anticipation.

Yaotl was doing something to it, something to the fire. Some twisted kind of magic, no doubt.

Kamau felt the sweat mixing with the oil. And he hated that the bastard would like how the scent of musk, sweat and jaguar blended with the spices.

The mage finally turned around, his eyes meeting the jaguar's, his grin wide as he licked his lips hungrily. Kamau was shivering all over, watching as the servants picked up the spit, how it gleamed in the light of the cooking fire. He wanted to strain with all his might against the magic holding him in its grip, but it was no use. His powerful muscles felt weak, heavy. He looked into Yaotl's eyes.

"P, please, not, not this...", it broke from his lips, making him hate himself. For his weakness, for his cowardice. But to his surprise, there was not mockery in Yaotl's gaze, just a feverish expression, lustful, more so even than when he had fucked him. He licked his lips, his cock starting to swell visibly.

"Ooh, my ssweet, dumb jaguar, exactly this, nothing else...", his real hand reached out, stroking over his oiled, muscular body, squeezing his pecs until Kamau felt the shudder of heat running through him.

"All that mouthwatering, delicious flesh deserves no less...", he hissed, the hand running down, over his firm abs, to his stiff cock, giving it a firm squeeze, until Kamau could not help the moan.

Shame, lust, the pulse of his heart as it seemed to count down the last moments, just as the servants came with the spit. The mage hands forced Kamau down, ass up, head bowed, so he could only hear but not see his fellow jaguars moaning, crying out, voices muffled as maws closed around them and spits were forced into them just like he was about to suffer...

The press of warm metal started almost deceptively gentle. His ass had been stretched to the point where he only truly noticed the pain, when the unrelenting, firm rod met the first obstacle.

Kamau let out a yowl of pained pleasure that thankfully cut through the pleading whimper he had not been able to fully quell. And then, he felt the heat, felt the strange pressure, felt his body beginning to shift, give in, yield...

It was agonizingly slow, push by push, his cock starting to drool precum as he felt the blunt type bury its way through him, forcing into a squished, straight tube what was meant to twist and turn, making his insides burn. When it came to his stomach...

Well, it felt like a hot, acrid burn suddenly going all the way down to his abused ass. And then, just the reprieve of something giving, something churning, changing, his stomach contracting around the hard rod as it pushed up through his throat, his head forced up as it made its way through his open mouth. All he tasted was the oil and the spice and a musky taste, like of his own sweaty, earthy asshole. And then, there was just the warm metal, his limp arms and legs pulled straight, tied to the pole as he let out a last, muffled gasp, feeling his body carried towards the heat...

He was sweating, he was shivering, trembling, cock hard as he felt the first bite of the heat. One of the servants gave his erection a final stroke with an oiled hand, sending waves of pleasure through his abused body, then, with a weird sensation of impact he felt through his whole body, he finally came to rest, the spit firmly in place over the fire. And very slowly, it started to turn...

Heat was licking over his naked flesh, pain running through him, pleasure following where it should have no right to. The oil seemed to help, like a protective coating. But the heat did not need long until it seemed to run through all of him. And worth, before long, Kamau felt the spit itself heat up. He felt its sharp bite of heat as it was slowly but steadily helping him cook from the inside out...

Part of him had dared to hope that the pain and the heat would end him quickly, if painfully. He should have known better. There was no quick end for him. With every rotation, his muscular body got a fresh coating of oil. Not from small hands, but slick brushes, that would linger on his cock, stroke his shaft, tease his balls where he felt his fertile seed starting to heat up, cooking his heavy nuts in their own, musky juice. He could smell his aroma, he knew his flesh was, without a doubt cooking. He could even taste the delicious aroma, the strong, savory smell of big cat, slowly roasted alive...

And he knew that all the lizards were tasting it on the air. He could see their tongues flicking out, could see how it made them agitated. Even Yaotl. He was stiff, his cock standing rigid, too big for any loincloth to hide it, dripping as he watched from his throne, his eyes fixed on Kamau, greedily drinking in the scent of his enemy cooking alive for his pleasure, watching with a wicked smile as every stroke of the oiled brush made the Jaguar's cock throb with shameful lust.

His head was aching with the heat, and yet, part of him welcomed it, wanted more, craving the pain, hoping for the end it would bring and already too broken to resist the delicious pleasure his broken body was searing with. Every time the brush stroked over his painfully hard, cooking erection, he was bucking weakly, hoping for the sweet release...

But it did not come. Neither the merciful death at the searing flames, no release, not of any sort. They just kept him stewing, stiff and still alive, likely kept that way by some perverse magic. All he got was his muscles growing even weaker as he was turned from living flesh to cooking meat, as the aroma of him wafted through the temple city. He only occasionally could catch a glimpse of his own skin, but he could clearly see how it had turned into a juicy, delicious golden brown. The fat under his new skin hot and searing his flesh, his muscles growing from a dark red to the brownish color of cooked meat...

And it just went on and on until he could not even buck his hips, even when he felt so keenly that his cock and balls were still just raw enough for the final release he craved for...

He did not know how many times he had turned on the spit, when finally, he saw Yaotl making a quick gesture with his hand. And then, finally, he felt himself be moved off the searing heat that so treacherously denied him a merciful end.

He almost felt cold now, even if he had hardly the strength left to even shiver. Something was tugging at his abused insides. Pain, all dull, making his cock throb again with desperate lust. Something was tugging on his arms, his legs. And only then, he realized that the spit was retracted, the tip slowly coming towards his lips. Kamau was not sure if he actually still tasted anything, or whether it was a trick of Yaotl's magic, but he felt the delicious aroma of his own cooking meat, the oils and the spices flooding him as the spit retracted, gliding back through him, giving a strange reprieve to his abused inner organs, before finally, it clattered down on the stone.

Kamau caught a last glance of the lower ranks, of warriors with bloated bellies, of jaguars like him cooked on the spit, golden brown instead of gold and black now. Then, he was facing Yaotl, hovering towards him, carried by his mage hands, his cooked, stiffly erect body nothing but a piece of delicious, impossibly still alive and sentient meat...

The feeble croak that came from his throat was beyond forming words. And Kamau knew that his life, only ever so barely still trapped inside his cooked body, was way beyond salvation. And Yaotl...

The mage lord just grinned widely, his mouth gaping open impossibly wide as his tongue snaked out and licked over his pecs, his cooked nipples, his flavorful, roasted armpits...

"Oh, my dear Kamau, you are sssooo deliciouss...", he hissed, making another gesture, causing another pair of mage hands grabbing both of Kamau's well cooked legs. His hole, where the spit had taken him like the lizard's own shaft, lay exposed. And again, Yaotl's tongue slipped between the firm glutes, right towards its goal. Just that this time, the sensation was dull, if still arousing his abused, well cooked cock. The tongue seeming to be immune to the heat of the freshly roasted meat, basking in the rich flavor, pushing ever deeper, ever deeper until Kamau felt disbelief at how it could reach so far inside of him...

Disbelief that was soon dispelled, when he realized what was happening. The mage hands had never stopped carrying him forward. The secret to the impossible deep penetration was simple. It was, no, he was in the lizard's maw gaping open, impossibly wide. The pressure of invisible hands, forcing him into the obscenely stretched jaws. Yaotl was devouring the once proud jaguar warrior, ass first as he was tongue fucking his cooked body.

And to his shame, the only thing he could do, the only thing he could utter was a rasping, weak groan of pleasure as his balls were engulfed by the slimy warmth of the maw. And as the tongue kept pushing, penetrating, tasting his deliciously cooked body, Kamau could not help but add a final, fresh coating of boiled jaguar milk to ease his slide into the waiting, hungry belly. The last thing the few remaining jaguars and all the lizards would see was his head jerking back in his final release, before Yaotl just greedily gobbled him down. To hungry to savor, to ravenous to do anything but take him gulp by gulp, the savory aroma so wonderful, the force of the fading life so deliciously vibrant he could not stop himself, his tongue finally slipping out to lick over the well cooked abs, the meaty pecs, the richly flavorful pits, the dumb head of the lusty upstart who was finally right where he belonged...

A final swallow sealed the jaguar's fate, as merciful darkness closed in around him. All there was now was the tight sensation of the small body stretched obscenely, the belly like a swollen tick as he felt it fizzing, tingling around him. Like a second skin, Yaotl's belly clung to him, showing everyone every last outline of his muscular body and his stiff cock cooked to a permanent erect state.

A loud burp sounded through the silence of the temple city, followed by hissing cheers and the sound of scaled feet beating on the still warm stone.

As darkness began to envelop the city, as the last jaguars were devoured or given the mercy to remain as slaves, the eyes of the lizards were on Yaotl, watching Kamau's final twitches, Yaotl's magic making sure that they could hear the final rasping cry of pleasure as the Jaguar came a last time, right before he was finally granted his death as the digestive juices ate through his cooked skin, into his flesh. Untill everything began to dissolve and give in, nothing left of him soon but a thick, meaty cat stew...

They lined up to be allowed to touch their leaders belly, to feel the breaking flesh, eaten away until finally, there was nothing but hard bone remaining, tightly outlined beneath taut skin.

The feast of victory carried on, all through the night. And in the morning, when Yaotl's bloated belly had shrunken down, his people eagerly watched as nothing but slick bones, bleached white, emerged from his obscenely stretched anus, all that remained of the once proud black panther. A final burp made Yaotl's belly rumble as he spit out the skull, looking at them from hollow eye sockets.

The mage lord stretched languidly, a last small white bone plopping from his gaping sphincter, as he got up with a grin, letting the servants collect the bones of his former enemy.

Today, he would begin his campaign to catch the last of the jaguars. A campaign to make them his, as all creatures of the jungle rightfully should be. He would make them learn to accept their lot. It was what his kind had in store for all their slave races. He would breed them from Kamau's very own line. Maybe from the two boys his trusted lieutenant was just leading to his temple city, caged and helpless. Just as with all the others, they would take the males for their pleasure, make sure they would breed strong and healthy bodies, warriors, hunters and stalkers no longer, no, nothing but food for his kind. Food that would lust for their delicious deaths...

His mind still buzzing with his plans, the lizard mage lord returned to his inner sanctum, where the new, soft and still musky jaguar pelt already lay spread out on his bedstead, waiting for the rutting that soon was to come...