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Thump!

The sound resonated like a heartbeat.

Thump!

Through its presence, it stirred what existed below the stone.

Thump!

Followed by the steps of little ones, their sandals clanking against the cold stone.

"My Emir! My Sultan! Please, I beg you not to take haste!" squealed a high-pitched voice, barely managing to keep pace. And to follow the prominent and unique Sultan of Varrak: Zil Varqa Hassain Al-Zorilla. The sole and mighty Dragon, whose distinctive orange scales and large stature, passed within the richly garnished corridors adapted to his sizeable nature.

But much like for anyone of authority, the existence of the four-legged Dragon was to be plagued with pleas and requests, with advisors and sycophants alike. And slowly, the heartbeat within the Spring Palace slowed and indulged in the presence of the reductive two-legged Drake.

Bamum, as expected, continued his course until his green scales appeared in the orange-eyed Dragon's field of vision and then slowed to adapt the pace with the titanic Sultan.

"My Sultan! I know it is not my prerogative to order you, but I beg you to reconsider! The egregious demands from the Gryphons should be met with more strength or our own counteroffer!" continued Bamum, the tiny scribe holding onto the different vellum containing requests, orders, and so on.

It was that tiny male, almost a whelp barely reaching his twenty spring and constantly clad in widely-cut white robes, who served Zil as a civil servant, interpreter, reader. The last of a large cohort that used to hang around the Dragon's paws until he gave them heed and care.

But that young male proved to be willing and interesting, eager to offer his insight; the remaining one from those sent to coordinate the battlefield.

However, the Sultan had another insight, another vision, and through a huff and a quick turn, the Dragon decided not to circumvent the Palace's gardens. He passed from a corridor, of white pillars and delicate statues, to a cloister of the same marble stone. The structure's expansive size allowed the Sultan to stroll beneath the arches and behind the capitals depicting verdant greens. But those, too, disappeared behind Zil when he stepped in broad daylight.

There, beneath the sun's warm caresses, his orange and oiled scales shun like precious jewels. His eyes, orange as well, darted on the gardens' content as if inventorying any details that had changed since his previous visit while his wide and pierced nostrils caught scent of the pungent, permeating perfumes.

To avoid any issues, the Dragon always controlled his body, but in broad daylight, he was able to shake his head and toss his lush black hair over the right side of his muzzle, giving them an ounce of order.

In so followed his horns, poking through the long strands, and his wings unfurled for half a second as he stretched almost every muscle of his prime figure. Up until every part of his body had experienced movement, release of tension, and his draconic musk had been aired out from his unused spans.

"My Sultan!" squealed the same voice again, nagging him.

The Dragon lowered his muzzle, darting his piercing gaze onto the little scribe to scrutinize every action he would take.

"My- My Emir. I know your wisdom is always sound, but-" started the little one.

"But it is I who decides, and my decision is final. Do you doubt your Sultan?" asked Zil, a slight rumble underlying each word he had picked.

Squeaking, Bamum held onto his vellum tighter, his little tail flailing the air as if he had never learned to control his emotions like a proper member of the Sultan's assembly.

"I dare not! I merely wish to provide you with more options in those times of trial!"

Trial... Zil chuckled at the honeyed words the scribe had used. He may be unable to control his shivers or tail, but Bamum was entertaining with his wits.

However, the Dragon had his mindset, and for a reason.

"Tell me, Bamum, what do you see here in these gardens? What perfume do you smell here?"

And Bamum, as fearful as he was, looked all around.

Though he wouldn't find the beauty of life and plants in here. This cloister was a garden dedicated to death and rot.

Where one would expect flowerbeds, they would find pits of flesh and pile macerating.

Where one would hope to see a tree or an orchard, they would witness a carcass of a Dragon.

Where one would guess to face a nun or priest, they would meet a necromancer eager to fulfill his duty.

The Spring Palace wasn't a jewel of beauty, not anymore. And what would Bamum see was a necrotic wound, with nature and plants dead and desiccated, whose "perfume" maimed the nose and the soul alike.

A folly, one would say. A necessity, answered the Sultan.

"I- I see your craft, my Emir. Your trade in its splendor, for all to witness and admire," answered the Drake, with his words still as suave. Beautiful.

"Well, can you tell me what you see from our last battle report?" countered the Sultan, taking a seat in the middle of the garden. His hind legs bent while his front paws were crossed, in the likeness of the two-legged thinkers. But at the same time, Zil's eyes darted to one of the carcasses, and half a mind was already thinking about the ritual he would undertake to raise those old bones and bestow them purpose.

Despite the reports, that one was fitted and ready to be sent to the battlefield. A judicious action to stride here.

"I see the death of more than 100 gryphons in a superb attack in a pincer move from our 3rd contingent!" replied Bamum, his stack of vellum under one arm while the other had lifted and unrolled the said report.

"And what about our food and ore supplies?" countered the Dragon, raising an eyebrow.

There was no need, this time, for Bamum to read a parchment.

"Our resources are... Still capable of fully feeding our army for the next three years. And we have enough steel to sustain the conflict for two without accounting for the potential trades with the Akhums."

There, the tiny male's composure broke apart. It was not a pleasure to do so, but Zil was tired of being undermined even by a lowly drake.

So, he huffed and turned to the nearest carcass, the one fitting yet devoid of any necromancer. It was the corpse of a Dragon, one of the recently deceased brought from the battlefield. A cut in the neck had perfectly managed to throttle the blood flow to the brain, granting a swift death completed by the skull's destruction when the felled warrior touched down head first.

Now, the head had been replaced by a makeshift of crude iron while the body showed early signs of putrefaction.

A cruel sight that twitched when Zil raised a clawed digit at it.

"Isn't it too simple when more than half of the army is composed of undead without any needs or care?" asked the Dragon rhetorically. Bamum, in return, was clever enough not to answer the question but to admire the Sultan at work.

Zil. Foremost of the Necromancers, Upbringer of the most powerful army within the conflict, yet... This was not enough. It wouldn't be enough. It was only a substitute, an expedient criticized by the Nobles looking for their reanimated kin.

"In our six months of conflict, half of the army died from our enemies due to their superior tactics and numbers. We, Dragons, are unlike them or you, Drakes. We breed cautiously in an effort to protect the fragile equilibrium, but our slow nature opposes us. Our numbers are limited, and our heirs take decades to mature and embrace their autonomy."

"But then-" started the Drake, squealing when the orange eyes were on him.

But Zil sighed and turned away, his magic etching the carcass's crude iron with binding runes and enchantment that would turn that corpse into a fine tool.

"Most of our soldiers knew. No, know this. It would be uncaring of me not to acknowledge many have lost their lineage and names to this conflict. Of course, we are at an advantage, and it was the Gryphon's fault to impinge on our most fertile lands," added Zil, watching the undead's wings quiver and move.

"We could continue and keep forward, throw more corpses at them, and crush what little resistance they have."

The Dragon marked a pause, then tilted his head, his hair swinging in the current cold breeze.

"Tell me. What are your estimations once the war is done? What would remain of our army?"

Zil's question was asked but hung in the air, unanswered by the Drake. Bamum was sweet and admirable, but he knew. Oh, that little male knew about the truth.

"Less than a quarter of the livings would remain," he answered.

"And then, what would the accursed Wolves do?" continued Zil.

"They would invade our southern lands and use their magic to strip us of our airborne advantage."

Before Zil answered, the creature of flesh, bones, and iron sprung to life. The muscles quivered too much, the stance was unsteady even as it unfurled those wide wings. But the undead dragon managed to stand and threw its head up, akin to a roar. But solely came the sound of grinding iron before it departed from the ground.

Followed a foul wind the Sultan inhaled without a worry but elicited a coughing fit from the little Drake.

"Burying the hatchet, even with the required price, would help us in the long term. More than that, their King offered it as a potential solution to our population issues," commented the Sultan, stretching his hind legs first, then his front.

"I don't want for my Emir to lose his pride and honor. There must be another solution," muttered the Drake. But not low enough for the Dragon.

"I won't lose it. And even in the situation where we would win without much loss, you have dabbled into the court's whispers, too. Only a handful are satisfied with my actions. Too much power lies in my paws only. This is a danger for my Sultanate."

This was the truth. Nobody could deny it, and so the Dragon breathed out.

Bamum stood by his side, his parchments rolled back and watching for the Sultan's reaction.

"You are no idiot who needs a history lesson nor needs to be corrected. Your devotion is commendable but misplaced," added Zil, stretching his back and wings once more, then folding them in a suitable way for a Dragon, or a Sultan.

"I know, but it would be unbearable for me to see you reduced, my Emir."

So kind, so thoughtful. But Zil chuckled as his paws crushed the dried herbs below, that time deciding not to take a pause in his steps.

And in so, he exposed himself to Bamum since the poor Drake seemed too lost in that sorrow.

Moreover, the Dragon had no shame in doing so. His body was to be admired, even the most intimate parts of his anatomy: whether it was the pink rim blossoming beneath his tail, round and musky; the sweetened and honeyed lips forming the path to his vulva; or even his testicles, massive musky orbs tightly cinched by a golden ring whose purpose was to anchor.

The Dragon allowed his subject to gaze onto his beauty manifold before glancing over his shoulder and wings to the befuddled scribe.

"I won't be reduced by this act. Now, let's make haste. Preparations are to be made before the Gryphon King arrives, and that male can be zealous."

---

Yet, despite being so zealous, Zil had to wait like a spurned courtesan for the King's arrival. The claws tapping the tiles in a regularity that betrayed his ennui, the Sultan had been standing for hours on his cushioned throne.

His wings had been folded carefully, his hind legs spread in front of his torso while his fore paws were outstretched. Even his face was contorted by the boredom assailing the magnificent throne room, adapted to the Sultan's and Dragons' needs.

His eyes darted left and right as he saw the lowly Drakes and noble Dragons mingling around: the first in their colorless robes befitting of servants or officials; the latter with their richly dyed clothes draping their scales as if to hide the artificial nature of their shapes. Only the Sultan was allowed to bear his natural form on the Palace grounds, forcing the court to bow and lower themselves to the common Drakes until the differences between them were a matter of distasteful tatters.

Some would dare it was an insult. A clever mind would state it was to lessen the rift separating bloodlines. A more clever mind would state it was an insult.

And with a smile, knowing his subjects would suffer as much as he, Zil turned to Bamum. The poor Scribe stood a few meters away from the holes dug by the Sultan's boredom, and his tiny body shivered under the orange gaze.

"Has the delegation revealed when He will arrive?" he asked.

"No, my Emir. They are as clueless as we are," answered the tiny male, drawing his gaze to the group of Gryphons. Those were huddled in a corner of the pristine and richly furbished room, their presences half-hidden beneath the pillars as if avoiding the Sultan. Those creatures, of leonine bodies and avian faces, seemed content to be attended by the Drakes and enjoyed a housing that was not too cramped. After all, they were bigger than Drakes but lesser than Dragons; they stood out, towered over nobles and servants despite the distance, as they weren't willingly mingling. However, they remained a paw away from being crushed.

Especially that one on the front who always smiled at Zil, the sole one. The upstart noble wore an intricate collar and had the galls to thank the Sultan for "The generous gift done to his domain". That boorish male, Zil's fatigued palm could use him as a bolster: a squishy bolster.

"Ask them to send another messeng-"

SCREEEEEEEEE!

The sound echoed in the distance, a screech drilling anyone's sensitive ears, especially when the Gryphons echoed it by standing on their hind legs and screeching, too.

The source of the commotion had finally arrived, decidedly late.

Entering by the mahogany double doors at the entrance, the Gryphon King marched impeccably on the extended purple mat. His gaze, blue and cold, darted on every detail from the oblong throne room as if to judge what would become his property.

However, nobody could oppose that thought, not even Zil as he, too, observed the capitals depicting dancing dragons at the top of each column; followed closely by the sconces in the shape of a dragon's muzzle; ending with the benches and tables of delicate wood stretched along the regal path.

A path that led back to Zil. To the Sultan. Who stretched, stood up, and took a more formal pose while his counterpart got close.

Lux, short for Lux Bellum Androphee, was different than most Gryphons. Most particular was his size, which was a few meters shorter than the temple-sized Sultan. He was also strikingly attractive with his cold gaze, his constantly clasped beak, and his feathers possessing a golden hue at their tip, whereas his leonine fur was a pristine white.

He could have been an entertainer of choice for Zil, if not for their antagonistic nature.

"Welcome to the Spring Palace, Lux. Was your journey uneventful?" began the Dragon, trying not to account for the delay.

"No."

With one word, the Gryphon cut through the suave exchange.

"No?" Zil asked, his left eyebrow raised.

"No. I was waylaid despite my desire to arrive here. My journey was eventful for unwelcome reasons. Are we done with the courtesy?"

Lux's dryness was even noted by the Gryphons' delegation as they began to fidget and squirm loudly enough for Zil to hear them.

However, his gaze was on Lux, not the outraged court. That Gryphon was as straight as an arrow, inflexible. So, it was for Zil to shake his head, his hair flowing around, and sigh.

"We are. Straight to the point, that's so you," jabbed the Sultan while admiring the slight kingly twitch.

"Our purpose here is to cease this conflict and for the union of our nations. Courtesy is a luxury my soldiers cannot afford on the battlefield. Do you confirm you agree with the terms of the capitulation?"

Boorish, differently than his bothersome subject, that was the King.

To the question, Zil raised his left paw, palm up.

"Your rhetoric was flawless in your arguments, and the price of it is steep but justifiable. I do accep- MHRPHH!"

Cut through his words, complimented by the court's many gasps, the Sultan felt the Gryphon's beak push against his muzzle. It had forced and opened, allowing the King's tongue to worm its way into the unsuspecting mouth until both Zil and Lux shared their saliva and tasted one another.

The Sultan's eyes grew wide while those of Lux remained fixated... But then closed while the strength from the tongue grew, and its presence was akin to an invasion. And so was the King's saliva, carrying the taste of rotten meat and mead. It was strong, invading, pungent. Perhaps luscious for the Dragon.

For what felt like an eternity and less than an instant, the joined mouths exchanged taste and saliva until the Dragon was the first to retract. Nevertheless, the Gryphon assaulted that muzzle further and caught the Sultan into another kiss while a talon stroked Zil's wings and the powerful muscles articulating them. The movement was cautious, careful, but the scraping against the scales had something eerie to it. It was almost shaving the orange scales from the rough caress, although the rattling stopped once the King was satisfied with his kiss and retreated.

Just a few steps away, so their faces remained close enough to converse privately.

"I-," coughed the Dragon, bringing the paw to his mouth to wipe the saliva dripping from the lips. "This is abrupt. I have accepted, but we are not married."

For once, after all those exchanges on the battlefield, on neutral ground, or through the magical mediums, Zil saw the King smile. The Gryphon's brows lowered, the muscles around the beak pulled and softened the traits.

More than that, the rigid King chuckled, and the beak clicked.

"Zil. With your capitulation, I have authority over your Sultanate too. The King can decide when he marries his Queen," Lux explained with a bemused voice, his talon moving from the wing to the Dragon's face and... Hooking the Sultan's nose ring.

"And your luscious perfume tempts me."

For a moment, Zil thought about what perfume he had used. Only to frown, then cock an eyebrow. He hadn't used one, but he was feeling... Warmer in Lux's presence.

"What?" he asked rudely.

The Gryphon stretched his neck and lifted his beak. His lids fluttered, his wings flapped for a second as he spoke.

"Yes. The aroma of a queen ready to bear a brood, the distinctive touches of anguish and lust. You, Zil, bear what I yearn," muttered the Gryphon while laying his gaze on the flustered Sultan, the cold eyes fixated. "And I will take it today. But you can play along, we are together in this, aren't we?"

The words were arrogant, charged with contempt, and... Yes, lust.

But the King did make sense, they had to show a united front from the beginning. Zil sighed, much to his "partner"'s delight. The Gryphon's face relaxed, the claw released the nose ring.

And both turned to the crowd.

"Here-"

"We-"

Both leaders looked at one another, befuddled the other had taken the initiative. However, it was the mirthful Gryphon who conceded with a slight nod.

"It is time for our peoples to be united under the same banner. As our Sultanate will be protected by our neighbor's Kingdom, but there's no need for two King," extemporized the Dragon, standing on his four legs and facing the crowd.

Most dragons and drakes looked at him with surprise, or a hint of anguish. Those who knew, the little few, had their scales taking a paler shade before it was the Gryphon's turn to speak.

"We will unite as King and Queen, and consummate our union in the instant to ensure our peace. Send messengers to the battlefields to tell our troops to return home, to their families and wives."

The last part was evidently a jab to Zil, who saw the Gryphon sport a little smirk. A clawed paw suddenly toppled the mighty Sultan in a tremendous cloud of dust and cries.

The Nobles cried out loud, Bamum's shrill voice even managed to pierce through the commotion as he had been nearly crushed by the sudden fall.

But once the air and mind cleaned, there was Zil lying on his backside with his paws up. The outstretched wings formed a large surface that would not be furled until the Sultan moved.

An unlikely situation as, above, stood the Gryphon with his paws carefully avoiding stepping on the leathery wingspan.

"Fret not, this is what unions look like for the mighty," gloated Lux to the crowd, disregarding their anxiety and replacing it with anticipation, as answered by the Gryphons' screeches.

In comparison, most courtships between Dragons were a private affair. More so would it be for the Sultan or a King, yet they were lying in the open like two young sweethearts. Two sweethearts crushing a throne, closer to a dais than anything, and the cushion on it by their united weight.

Weight that shifted and moved along with the Gryphon, the only one keeping his motility as he stepped back. Slowly, he decreased his towering presence over the Dragon while his eyes darted to the regal body.

The perfect long black hair could be styled, those silvery ring piercings removed or added whenever he needed. That strong chest, akin to a barrel, would be perfect to incubate. Whereas those paws, outstretched, possessed the strength to bear such importance.

But as the eyes darted down, a frown appeared on the avian features. And another smirk. The two emotions contrasted on the male as he stretched his neck between Zil's hind legs.

It was no issue for anyone close to witness the Dragon's testes hanging in their orange scrotum nor inhale the pungent draconic musk emanating from them. However, that perfume alone wronged the Gryphon's nose and interests.

So did the Sultan's Dragonhood. Even if its affront was lessened by the presence of an ornament: a trinket of gold and jewels, a magnificent and delicate craft replicating the likeness of a Dragon's head.

The simulacrum had its ruby eyes fixated forward while its fangless mouth opened to expose the pink tip of Zil's sacrosanct Dragonhood. It sported no horns, and most features had been dulled either by the craftsman or wear.

Nonetheless, even if most of the shaft remained caged within, its perfume and its glistening flared tip outraged the Gryphon. In return, Lux huffed and gruffly stated: "So unsightly."

A remark contested by Zil's derisive laugh.

"Please, give a kiss to your new wife," stated the Dragon, followed by the crowd's shocked gasps.

But the King growled and grimaced, scoffing at the idea of indulging such thoughts. And despite the Sultan's jeer, he kept to his inspection, down. Down to the prime womanhood the hermaphrodite Dragon sported.

Its presence within the Dragon presented as a slight swelling on the taint, splitting apart in an oval opening. From there, the elongated sides revealed themselves lips manifold, whose colors shun from the fluids slathering the soft flesh and reflecting the light.

At the center was the premises of a womb, an opening that yearned to bring life and would bear it.

Such beauty captivated the Gryphon, observing and enraptured until the distant whispers called him back on his duty. Perhaps they were anxious. But many were surely commenting on his Gryphonhood that had stirred and begun to meddle with the Gryphon's inner motivations.

Finally, he leaned forth and opened his beak, stretched his tongue so its tip could reach the interdicted honeypot. He mumbled, rumbled, exhaled much like Zil when that tongue attained the Dragon's erected clitoris.

In comparison to the folds or the Dragonhood, the tiny nub had to be searched for.

But. When Lux reached it, Zil reacted with a loud gasp and widened eyes.

"This, my Queen, is the first of many experiences you'll learn to lust after," said the Gryphon with that dry tone.

"Hhh-aha!" Zil answered, laughing nervously while the Gryphon's breathed neared his taint anew. "Don't make me laugh."

A bravado cut short when the Gryphon's coarse tongue once again graced the clitoris. Using the tip, Lux nudged the overly sensitive nub and plunged inside the folds surrounding it to pry the clitoris from them. It shifted, peeling away the scaled hood protecting the tiny organ. Just enough to massage and squeeze it.

Lipless, Lux deployed another way to suck and tease such a sensitive spot. Thus, his tongue coiled and turned, twisted and surrounded until it was almost airtight. Then, the prehensile appendage moved.

Although Zil had shivered through one lick, this... This forced Zil's to moan and almost scream. If not silenced by his paw, keeping that maw shut.

The Sultan had to silence his mouth while the Gryphon deployed all the finesse from his tongue. The appendage rolled, coiled, and through the effort, every part of the clitoris was found under the assault. No spot had been left untouched as squeezes and caresses alternated at different parts of it.

To those, Zil's body answered, and Lux's tongue echoed.

One lick loosened the Dragon's lips, pushing the Gryphon to tempt the tongue-tip away from the chaos that was the clitoris.

One squeeze made the Dragon's dragonhood spurt a few more pungent fluids, egging the Gryphon to huff and roll his eyes.

One rubbing preceded the Dragon's whimpers and moans, finalizing the satisfaction of the King.

Until the lips suddenly clenched and fluids sprayed from them, a liquor whose odor had a slight iodine touch. Nonetheless, it satisfied the Gryphon enough for him to uncoil his tongue and retract it, all the while watching the Sultan.

Zil was still on his back, his head turned. That face and hair were damp with sweat, much like the rest of his body. His caged cock had spurted and coated most of the underbelly with precum.

It was a terrible and shameful sight, but Lux wasn't keen to mock him. The Gryphon stood proud, rigid, and looked down at his future wife.

"This is the first of many orgasms you shall endure, my Queen," he stated.

Zil, in return, huffed. Steam blew from his nostrils as he shook his head and returned to the Gryphon. "Don't make me lau-" he began.

Then froze as two Gryphons, smaller, stood side by side with their liege while said liege overshadowed Zil.

"My- My Emir!" screamed a distant voice, stopped by the Gryphon's glare.

"I will not breed someone whose body may refuse my eggs. This is the moment, Zil," stated Lux.

Well, that was it.

The King's stipulation had been clear. He sought a body befitting for a Queen. He had always been aware of Zil's status as a hermaphrodite but also sought to research ways to improve the Dragon's viability. All exposed by the many diagrams sent during the negotiations.

Many of whom turned around the same aspect: a hermaphrodite couldn't bear life to fruition while gifted by both sides.

And so, Zil exhaled while ignoring Bamum's gesticulations in the distance.

"Fine. You have everything ready. Let's not waste time."

"That's more like it, my Queen," gloated the Gryphon. "My mages have trained for this."

"What do you mean by-Ohhh," cooed the Dragon as the Mages' presence was suddenly explained to him... Though not with words.

His testicles, proudly encompassed by the cockcage he had fitted, were feeling strange, peculiar. The scales were "prickled" by tiny icy shards, while the testes themselves became warmer but also less sensitive.

In fact, he no longer sensed the pressure of the ring around his scrotum or cock. It all felt... Distant. Not numb because he could still follow the mages' movement and their strokes on his scales. But beyond? No, yes, it was dulled.

"Do you appreciate it?" gauged the King, his wings unfurling for a moment, then folding back while his head tilted a bit left.

"It- It's not unpleasant," admitted Zil, closing his eyes and taking a long breath. One that filled his lungs and brushed his nostrils with the natural musk emanating from Lux. His kin was always... Smelly. But the King's scent mainly was oil, sandalwood, and... Meat?

Zil giggled, his thoughts escaping him. Which made the Gryphon frown for an instant.

"Reduce the spell's intensity and focus it on the genitals," Lux stated toward his mages.

The second after, Zil's mind felt refreshed. Like a veil being torn off over his thoughts and actions. The Dragon even raised a paw to his face, rubbing his temple and pushing aside his hair. But now, the spell's intensity had entirely numbed his body below the waist. Those mages worked diligently as the air was charged with energy. But...

"If you want to numb the pain, there's no need for that," stated the Sultan, glancing at the mages until he returned to the King, shaking his head.

"No. I want you to focus on something else, do you feel what I do?" asked Lux. However, when Zil stretched his neck to see, the Gryphon lowered his bust to hide everything from the Dragon. "No. No peeking."

It was Zil's turn to frown and then to rest the nape of his neck against the cushion.

"No, I don't feel anything," he grumbled.

Thump!

"And now?" countered the Gryphon, a slight brush stirring against the Dragon's groin.

"Something, a bit," answered Zil. "Hmm, a bit bigger, sticky. Against my... Is that?"

"Do you feel it?"

Lux smiled, his jaw contorting and his traits smoothening while Zil felt the warm and sticky flared tip pressing against his groin. While he was unable to witness due to the puffed chest before his eyes, everyone else from the crowd could see. And many gasped, many Dragons mostly.

Thump!

The King didn't have to hide his male parts from anyone as it was more than generous for his size: like two boulders hanging between the hind legs in a leathery black scrotum. But above, and pointed down, there was a malehood in the likes of Dragons: heavy, wide, long, gifted by a median ring and a tip whose flared end mirrored Zil's.

Dragons could have compared in length and width, but when the owner of that massive cock was a dwarf in comparison to them, it was them who felt reduced and limited.

Such was the glory of Lux, standing on all fours above the Sultan while his mages imbued their magic into the Dragon's groin. The Gryphon's body remained still despite that cocktip teasing and edging the wedge formed by Zil's vulva.

Thump!

The orifice nagged and contracted whenever something as much as a breeze stroked it. The cocktip merely stood at the threshold with drops and spurts to attest its presence, forcing contraction by their invasion. A presence the Sultan was all too aware of now as the sensations returned: the warmth of the organ, the slight touch whenever the lips moved.

Thump! Thump!

Zil exhaled, his body lost in a tug-of-war between relaxing and contracting. His expression, at this point, even gave him away, and his eyelids closed.

"Are you afraid?" asked Lux, his hips inching further. Right until the cocktip had to nudge the feminine parts to move further. And in return, Zil shook his head.

"No-. It's... It's intense," he said, closing his eyes.

And he heard it, the gasps. The cries! The shock! Only of the Dragons and Drakes, with no screeching with the Gryphons. Zil sighed, feeling nothing from his Dragonhood. The cocktip pressed against his inner walls, pressuring them to open.

Then, the King's breath was on his neck.

"Don't open your eyes, my Queen," ordered the Gryphon, his voice cold and callous. But then came another cry, another commotion. Someone had fainted.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Zil's breath quickened, his lungs filling.

"And... If I want to see?" he asked, his eyes closed. "What if-"

Words. Words, words, words. Lux cut through them with a kiss, his tongue invading the Dragon's lips anew and teasing, massaging the Sultan's tastebuds. Once again, tasting one another, beak and muzzle join.

But just as quickly, the kiss broke, and the King's breath was onto Zil.

Thump! Thump!

"Then, I will tell you what is happening, but keep your eyes away," grumbled the Gryphon.

And the hips moved further, something like more than an eighth of Zil's dragonhood.

The lips opened, pried by the strength and the warmth, releasing their honeyed scents as more juices poured out from them.

"My mages entirely numbed your jewels. They used their magic to halt all pain and sensation coming from them," explained the Gryphon, licking the sweat shimmering on the orange scales. "The blood coming to your testicles has been drained. Like cattle, they are using a cord to band them."

Thump! Thump!

The tone was cold, dry. But there was no... Spite. And the Gryphon kept explaining, kissing the Sultan.

"As of now, you may not feel it, but they're using a magical blade to incise through your scrotum in two places."

Thump! Thump!

The hips moved. This time, it felt more than an eighth, more like half of it. The Dragon experienced the growing pressure inside him, against his prostate encompassing the inner organs. The Gryphon's testicles, so warm and heavy, rubbed against his sensitive ass, tempting him and... "Ahhh, this is..."

Thump! Thump!

"This is what you crave, deep down, my Queen," the answer came right into Zil's ears, followed by another kiss. And then a cry. So distant for the Sultan, so unsightly. But so loud, the Dragon broke the kiss to turn towards the commotion with his eyes closed.

Hence, it didn't surprise Zil to have the Gryphon's paw holding his chin and guiding him back towards that beak. Another kiss, another exchange, another moment of joined mouths until they took a breather.

Thump! Thump!

"Wh- What is happening?" muttered the Sultan, his eyelids flickering as he fought against the need to see.

"One of your nobles fainted. With the incision big enough, the mages are pulling the testes out of your scrotum. One at a time," said the Gryphon, halting. Then, the Dragon heard and felt the air rushing to his face from the male's movement until the voice returned. "You haven't used them a lot, as I see."

Thump! Thump! Thump!

"I-," grunted Zil. But exhaled: "My cage is a symbol of my power and prosperity. My royal seed isn't to be wasted."

"It won't be wasted anymore. My mages are now tying the tubes joining your Dragonhood to your body and cutting them. Once their presence removed, your body will be free to adapt."

Thump!

Before Zil was able to mutter an answer, the Gryphon thrust forward. Even if Zil couldn't feel his masculine parts anymore, he did experience the pressure against his inner walls and then the weight inside his belly. He grumbled, but then. He heard them: the outrages. Of sycophants, idiots, perverts, upstarts individuals whose honor could be counted in their purses.

"You are defiling our sultan!"

"Do not finish this!"

"We will not abide by this!"

Thump!

Zil still kept his lids close, unable to see. But all those voices, were of the fools who would steal the power from him if he kept to the war. Their recriminations, their requests, their tentatives of plots. They coveted what he was giving up to another one today. Therefore, he turned to them... Turned to the crowd.

"This is what I agreed to. Anyone who refuses to witness this may leave the room! Mages! Cut them!"

Thump! Thump!

"Bu-" tried one of them. Zil ventured the guess it was a lordling living near the coast.

"I said, Mages! Cut them!"

The roar echoed within the throne room, followed by the sounds of people running and another commotion. Another voice, a whisper came from a paw away: "Careful, we have to keep them."

Thump! Thump! Thump!

By turning to the source, the Sultan knew he had listened to one of the mages. A thought immediately interrupted by the Gryphon's breath onto his ear: "They are frightened. Good. They will respect you even if you become my Queen."

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Lux cooed, anchored deep within Zil. He didn't move, though everything from the Gryphon gave him away: his intense musk, the sweat dripping onto Zil's chest, the deafening breath. His organ pulsated within, about to explode, to release, to be freed.

Hence, the Sultan chuckled: "What are you waiting for?"

Thump! Thump! Thump!

The Gryphon stopped, his neck moving and sending another wave hit Zil's face before... Well, their groins joined. A second later, something lukewarm and rigid landed on the Sultan's muzzle.

"Open your eyes, my Queen."

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

So, the orange eyes opened on a Dragon's face. One made of gold with ruby eyes, its toothless mouth half-open. Zil threw it away by shaking his muzzle and blinking to adapt to the room's luminosity.

The crowd on his left had thinned, helped by the cries and recrimination. As for above him, Lux remained there but looked chuffed. A state amplified when he used his beak to point down, down under his lifted chest until Zil could see his genitalia.

His draconic cock was there and half-hard, with blood being pumped inside it by the second until the musky flared tip reached its prime length. However, it was clear the operation had been done since he could see his cunt and the Gryphon's inserted within, but no traces of a scrotum. As if it had never been there at all.

His eyes widened, his mouth stood agape. And the Gryphon plunged right in to steal another kiss. By his presence, Zil's line of sight was obfuscated and merely remained the sensations. Once more, once again, as the Gryphon's hips moved and lifted. Along the way, his flared tip pulled on the Dragoness's inner walls, their heightened sensitivity tormenting the former Sultan and now Sultanah. His... Her body betrayed and trembled in pain and pleasure.

"Hhhh... Do- Don't stop," muttered the Dragoness, the voice shrilling from the sensation as more than half of that Gryphon's dick had pulled out.

"I don't intend to stop," answered the male right as the corona was about to depart from the vulva's moist walls.

Then, he plunged and began a rhythm of breeding: of pulls laced by thrusts, themselves joined by the hips moving and rolling to ensure the pressure on the inner walls.

To Zil, this was a new experience of sensing that vulva contract and move while shivers of delight ran all over her spine.

It... It ran through every part of that sizeable body, eliciting more contractions from all limbs and, therefore, more shivers as the Gryphon kept on.

If it had been anal, the Sultanah could have kept count of those thrusts, tried to control that body giving in to the pleasure. But with the feminine parts abused and masculine parts removed; a new way of sensing the orgasms overtook the emasculated Dragoness.

Those... Those swept over Zil, waves after waves of dry orgasms, of contractions within her tight cunt plowed by the male above. By that rigid and dry Gryphon who acted no different than a rutting man with a cheap whore or courtesan.

And... Oh. She loved it.

Most of Lux's weight, his torso and forelegs, crushed and squeezed Zil's body. The male's beak opened and clasped near the Dragoness's ears while heaving breaths escaped it.

A breath, a whisper, a susurrus brought to Zil as she too moaned and heaved from the breeding.

It was inane, it was rough, it was lovely. Despite the weakened legs and submissive stance, the Dragoness lifted both forepaws to embrace the Gryphon's neck and keep him fully hilted inside.

It was an action of lust and spontaneous desires, a folly, she thought. But she wouldn't let him pull away, and neither did the Male desire to do so. Those squeezing lips, feminine and humid, stole gasps and winces from Lux in their clasping movements and strokes. As the King fought against his orgasm.

"I-... You... You're my Queen," he muttered to his claimed eunuch, the voice brimming with joy and lust.

"Y- Yes! Claim! Claim my Cunt!" hissed the Dragoness, her hind legs contracting to increase the pressure around the Gryphon's shaft. A last squeeze, one that ended with a shrill cry. Then, a bone-shaking screech.

Above, Lux had lifted his upper body. His entire spine had tensed in an arc: his lower body had been brought down, kept motionless despite the quivering legs; his torso had been lifted and puffed up; his head faced the covered sky, the ceiling painted in the depiction of Zil's apotheosis.

Lux screeched, the powerful lungs contracting with so much strength the Dragoness could witness the diaphragm's efforts beneath the feathers and fur whenever air escaped. The Screech continued.

Warmth invaded her inner walls, spread further as something churned within her body. Something like... A pang of pleasure and warmth, then another, and another. They were manifolds, multiples. Pangs, sparks, flashes of pleasures. Nothing alike the orgasms but suffusing their warmth and delight across the Dragoness's body. They were lasting, everlasting, constant... Brimming with life.

All the while, the Gryphon's dick kept pumping more and more semen within her.

Zil closed her eyes. She gave up on counting the seconds or accounting that moment anymore.

The Dragoness's breath relaxed, her eyelids fluttered, the legs released, the muscles followed. Above, Lux kept moving and screeching to ensure his claim over her, her Sultanate, her body. On the left, she heeded the crowd in awe or shouting. A slight lull for the blissful Sultanah, daring to swallow her whole until...

"I'm pulling out, my Queen."

This was not a request, but a mere statement from the Gryphon as he indeed pulled out. In the slow movement, he dragged along the conjoined fluids and feminine lips until the flared tip had been freed and Zil gasped. The pressure within that tight cunt had been alleviated. Warm semen started to pour out of her cunt in a cascade that soaked her winking asshole and her sizzling scales.

Even then, the pangs of pleasure remained deep within: akin to little stars slumbering deep and waiting.

The Dragoness's eyes opened, the orange irises gazed upon Lux and his icy gaze, admiring the Gryphon who stood above her. He was still maintaining his position but... But he wasn't breeding anymore, it had been done.

With a glance, Zil even attested this as the half-chub equine organ now laid between the King's legs, dripping with fluids and slowly pulling back into the sheath as the skin folded and contorted. Fluids were projected from the foreskin but... The males, King and mages, were still there.

"Hmm?" mouthed the Sultanah, tilting her head.

"I fulfilled my duty. Our lands are united," stated the Gryphon to answer Zil's mumble.

The Mages were still there even though the Dragoness was definitely a eunuch, but... Another detail struck Zil as she observed what remained of her limp cock. And that scaled belly: Trail of cum covered the orange scales, darting right from Zil's remains of a Dragonhood, with the urethra still oozing cum.

"What are the mages doing?" asked the Sultanah, her voice unsure. "I do-"

The remains of her question were lost the moment one of the Gryphon used a spell, and orgasm wracked the Dragoness's body. Like that, Zil felt her prostate clench and fluids escape from her urethra into another trail of cum.

"They're making sure there are no more traces of your seed. A Dragon's lineage is enduring, my Queen. But my Mages are dutiful, they will make sure nothing remains of it."

"Hah, you... You have a devious sense of hu-HRMPH!"

This time, Zil nearly flung herself against the Gryphon's body in a cry of pleasure and pain alike.

She saw stars, she sensed the light over her eyes, she heard the contractions from her prostate resonate... She...

A single paw was on her chest, maintaining her body hard-pressed against the cushion. Her thoughts evaded her? Whose paw was it? Lux, right?

Another jolt. Another shock spread inside her groin, hitting her bladder and prostate alike. Her sphincters and vulva contracted, forced together to clench something that was not and couldn't be here.

"Hhh, My... My- Body," muttered the Sultanah, slurring as she was shocked anew.

Her orange eyes rolled in their orbits as she tried to focus on the Gryphon above her. But that one was not looking at her. His icy gaze was on the mages.

"More. I don't want to see a trace of it. And clean it up once you're done," ordered that now distant voice. Zil tried to respond but only came another wince. Her throat wouldn't answer her, her body had betrayed her in the ceaseless shocks and jolts. It reacted to the magic that rooted itself deeper within at each second. She felt it, another squeeze from her groin, more fluid landed on her sensitive stomach.

She was milked. The mages were stealing the last drops from her. The last drops of a Dragonhood were forced out of her prostate, one forced orgasm at a time.

---

Wincing, the Dragoness attempted to raise her paw, to reach for the Gryphon above while her slurring voice became a difficult tool to handle.

"Lu... Lux," she mumbled, with saliva backing in her throat. She felt herself slipping. Slipping and drowning when the feline paw grabbed hers:

"Do not fret. I will ensure our future, my Queen."

"The water needs in the region have increased tenfold in the last two months. I propose the construction of another basin and an aqueduct from the mountain directly to the valley. It may impact the region around bu-"

"Granted. Procure the assembly an estimate of what it will cost for the basin and aqueduct, separated. Johan and his scribes will establish the bid for a company. Is this all?"

"We will need to grow grain. Our stores are almost exhausted due to the war, and the estimates are dire."

"Have you sent a delegation to the Akhums? They should have the grains."

"Yes, but the prices are exorbitant. I assumed we could explore another solution before accepting the offer."

"Send the estimated budget to the King, he will finance this. If we take too long, the Akhums will retract their offer on the account we extenuated their goodwill."

For Zil, this felt like a return to the previous pains of politics and administration. During the war, it seemed everyone had gained a semblance of autonomy: they understood it was unnecessary to bother the Sultan with their petty and empty requests.

But now that Zil had become Queen and Sultanah, that peace had returned, it seemed everyone had regressed to their previous selves: eager to please, unable of any critical thinking unless Zil gave them a speck of a title. And even then.

The Drag-... The Dragoness grumbled as she stood at the center of an assembly: a hemicycle she presided at the center while the members sat around following their affiliation and interests, more or less close to the Queen depending on the fear she induced in them. The constituents were her previous counselors, at least those who survived the war, nobles of all sorts, and new blood. Either Drakes and Dragons, or Gryphons whose presences had been "gifted" by Lux.

Not that Zil minded, as she welcomed the help in being the buffer between the King and the sum of two Kingdoms' recriminations.

That's why that assembly was there, nestled in the depths of the Autumn palace, a door away from Zil's private quarters. In that Dragonsized room, watched by guards of two origins, she seemed to be the sole voice of reason, and she clearly needed her retreat a few steps away. However, her orange gaze was calling the tune in that chaos.

Although. Zil had to fight her drifting thoughts: the cushioned dais below her was comfy, but the pains of pregnancy made her unable to find any reprieve as long as she stood in public. And... Well, she sometimes envied the Nobles who were forced on two legs. At least they could be inconspicuous when they reclined on their red seats... They didn't know their luck.

"-therefore, we cannot afford for this scum to invade our newly founded capital, dear Queen."

In a lapse of focus, Zil hadn't listened to what had been said. But she heard a glimpse of what shouted that shrill voice: Peithia's.

The young and comely female Gryphon was one of the smallest of her kind around. Even then, she towered above them, captivated them with her northern robes, exposing her generous breasts and pregnant belly in an azure V-cut at the limits of indecency. However, it was a ploy to use her charms and her wits to convey her convictions.

That young lady represented the young blood eager to mend the wounds of war and the establishment of the new capital around the Autumn Palace: the valley was fertile, the place protected by natural mountain barriers at the north and south. And the Palace could serve as a fort to house the population if necessary. It was that or to have the capital placed in Lux's territory since Lux abhorred the idea of steeping into the Sultanate's capital due to Zil's dabbling in necromancy. She had sworn herself to no longer use it, and yet.

To return to the young Peithia, she held a parchment listing the different "organizations" that had tried to settle into the new capital. They were already extorting the civil servants for "protection" while slowly choking the arrival of refugees from the regions ruined by the conflict.

However, with Bamum shadowing her not from afar, the silvery-feathered Gryphon spoke of potential solutions that would necessitate the usage of the Kingdoms' army.

A plea that was not stupid per se but felt unnecessary to the queen: of course, she needed that might.

Nonetheless, Zil waved her paws once the listing was done: "Accepted. I give you the ability to use the Sultanate's army how you see fit. I will transmit your request to Lux, but he will do the same. Make sure to leave a few alive to transmit the message this city isn't a vulgar borough to be exploited."

Peithia bowed, grinning earhole to earhole before another noble spoke. By the time Zil's attention focused elsewhere, she had noted Bamum's hands on the Gryphon's exposed belly in a not-so-discrete embrace. But they were smart, and those two lovebirds knew what they were doing.

Zil pushed aside those considerations and returned to the petitioners, giving half an ear to the requests: most were either requesting more gold to reconstruct the Sultanate and the Kingdom alike without providing all the documents or bills explaining such exorbitant prices, making it both insufferable and groundless; those were all refused or postponed for a further assembly. And it kept giving, kept going.

Until.

"It is time to adjourn our meeting," annunciated the Dragoness, clasping her paws together in a rumbling thunder. Many nobles and advisors grumbled and grimaced as they saw the Sultanah's smile but didn't comment on how happy she seemed to opt out of her administrative post.

And in rumble peppered with grumbles, the representatives left their seats, taking documents and prepared discourses with them.

The steps resonated further down the palace, taking away the idle discussion and political intrigues so only Zil remained. And turned her back to the assembly, minding her tail, while passing through what was a mahogany door leading to her private rooms.

Due to the Dragoness's size, the concept of a private room extended to a whole palace wing, with the biggest part of it adapted to a Dragon's stature.

But those parts had been showing signs of dereliction as, lately, Zil didn't ask to employ those.

There was no purpose in using a bathtub as big as a house if it didn't ease the Sultanah's pain. There was no purpose in sleeping on a couch made of a quasi-infinite number of cushions if her eggs kept tormenting her.

Hence, the Dragoness stepped away from the massive corridor leading deeper within the wing of the Palace and took a sharp turn left while her form seemed to diminish. First were her wings and tail, both shrinking faster than the rest of the stature. Then came her whole body, reducing until she could stand upright in a weak equilibrium exacerbated by her legs snapping into a bipedal form.

One step at a time, the Dragoness' form lost her feral and magnificent shape for one that was reductive and fitter for the door she was about to cross through: a little passage almost hidden behind a pillar if not for the red mat leading to it.

However, even as she finished taking that bipedal form, one detail hadn't shrunk entirely, and that was her belly. Or her chest or all those little details Drakes wore on their sleeves during the times of rearing.

Zil sighed, her naked scaled body welcomed in her recent quarters by a waft of warm air. The servant had lit the fireplace and the candles, bringing warm lighting to the massive room of white marble decorated with tapestries. Any wall Zil saw was decorated by another depiction of a Dragon's feat; even the mat hadn't been spared from that arrogance. But she ignored it as she passed the little salon near the fireplace, the large bed almost twice her current size.

And stopped as she was by the large nook housing the stone bathtub filled with steaming water and admired herself in the mirror.

Perhaps it was a remnant of that arrogance and draconic Pride that egged Zil to stand by the looking glass. Nonetheless, she did.

Even before Lux's arrival, Zil had considered her bipedal body as lithe, though touches of muscles kept the nobles from equivocating. But that was not the case anymore: her hair had been styled to give it more volume and not to cover her orange eyes. Her nose ring had been changed for pure gold. Even the one through her lips shone much like all the rest. Lux's folly spread over the jewelry adorning her body.

Her legs and arms had lost most of their strength, making them more limber than they used to, bolstering Zil's comely figure.

Her breasts had blossomed into two hand-filling tits imperceptible in her feral form, but here they were weighing on her frame and pressing down on her belly. Moreover, the presence of the two golden rings through the nipples didn't help, nor was the chain linking everything together.

A chain that rubbed against Zil's love bump, a belly so full of eggs they were bulging beneath the scales and made any steps an excruciating pain. No one was to see her gravid, impotent, but now that she had taken her bipedal form, she could massage that sore belly.

"I'll need more balms," muttered the Sultanah, mentioning the stretching marks along her sides as her hands explored further down.

Down until she had reached for the lower side of her belly and her groin, until her claws clanged at the contact with Lux's most precious fantasy.

A trinket, a little tool adapting to Zil's size on all occasions. But it was on that feminine body the trinket embraced its true beauty.

Her Dragonhood, or what remained of it, had become numb over the first few weeks, and the remnant of her cage always pressed against her mind. However, this stopped once Lux came back with a replacement.

Zil's cock used to be a wide shaft, generous by its size, pushing through her sheath until the flared and barbed tip pointed forward with no angle. Now, the organ stood limp but also forced out of the sheath by a golden harness: concentric rings encompassed that cock, limiting its movement while a chain hung from it and joined each flexible band.

Onto them had been attached golden wings, further weighing and forcing the cock to point downward and to stretch until it reached up the tip. There, the rings and chains turned into the very representation of a Gryphon's head with its beak half-closed around the glans, pressed against the skin to widen the Dragoness' urethra.

Through the exploration, Zil stroked the ruby eyes that still watched over her genitalia before she lowered the digits further.

Further down was her smoothened groin, where her testicles had been. From their former existence, only remained a white scar almost covered by new orange scales. And finally, the "main course" Zil was about to stroke when her head straightened.

One hand was on her left breast, cupping and massaging it, while another was on her belly.

"My Queen, if you desire relief, you can always count on me," mirthfully spoke Lux, his icy gaze meeting with Zil's as both looked at the mirror.

The smell of magic permeated the room and would vanish in a few minutes. But it seemed Lux had been waiting for the best moment to appear and surprise her, in the most perverse and endearing way. That man was shameless, lustful, insatiable. Yet, he had been accommodating to use his bipedal form when they were in their privacy, allowing reprieve to his Queen. Although... At that instant, he had hooked a claw onto the Sultanah's chain, tugging on it while he pressed his naked torso against his love.

"Are you scrying me?" asked Zil, her composure breaking out in a smile, then a chuckle when the Gryphon tapped the distended belly with his index: one of his tells.

"It wouldn't be wise for me to answer," stated the Gryphon.

But much to Lux's fear, Zil's tail began to coil around his left leg.

"Hah! 'Knew it, nasty bastard!" exclaimed Zil, her face breaking in an unfettered satisfaction.

Which, in return, made Lux pull a face, his eyes half-close much like his beak.

"Oh dear, I broke you again? Where is your urbanity?"

"Gone, vanished the moment you told me you could have teleported into my throne room during our wedding," answered Zil with a grin, again rubbing it against her husband. The same one relaxed his grip over the breasts and belly to join both arms over her shoulder in an embrace. In this form, he was taller than her, with squat proportions that made such an embrace easy. And to lay his chin atop of the Dragoness' head.

"The Sun be damned, I mustn't show my Queen is an undignified peasant acting out during all those years. Woes on me," grumbled the Gryphon, moving his index to scratch a tiny spot below the collarbone, in the cusp of the breasts. A delicious spot since Zil's tail wagged and released its grip.

"Woes on you for making me the wife of the couple. You would have looked beautiful with those eggs in you."

Again, Lux pulled a face, lifting his muzzle to show his worst angle to the mirror, and his Queen.

"I don't know what I will do of you, my Queen. Our nights are so intense you're out of your mind, or have you always lost your marbles?" he said before his eyes widened. He knew it.

"You did take my "unsightly marbles", does that count?" replied Zil, giving a little jab with her elbow into Lux's belly. The Gryphon groaned, his right hand abandoning the scratching for a facepalm.

A vicious grin kept clinging onto Zil's face when she turned to the Gryphon, poking his exposed belly with one finger.

"What? You set this up," added the Dragoness in a falsetto, imitating one of those termagant noblewomen with their submissive husbands.

"I did not," answered the Gryphon, his voice muffled from that massive hand covering his face.

"Yes, you did... Because how couldn't I rub them onto your face, then?"

To this innuendo, the King answered with a groan while his hand dropped. Behind it was the mask of someone cold and calloused, unable to face his emotions. Although for a moment Zil thought she pushed too far, she dropped that thought the moment he squatted, grabbed her behind her wings and knees to pick her up.

Much like one of those charming princes of legends, although none spoke of a Dragoness being lifted nor about the hilarity shown by the dear "prince" who marched towards the bed.

"That's it, you'll get the dick!" mirthfully stated the King, his legs spread to bear the weight as his clawed feet climbed the few steps leading to the elevated bed.

"Wait! I'm covered with grime! If we dirty the bedding, we'll have to change them!" squirmed the Dragoness, rolling in the male's arms, who had to reinforce his grip with a spell. However, Lux didn't stop laughing as he threw his wife onto the bed.

His smile didn't leave his face as he climbed onto the mattress, in a chaos of creaking and squeaking noise while he prowled closer on all fours.

"I don't care. Once I'm done with you, they'll need to change everything."

"Oh."

Zil's mouth perfectly illustrated the sound she made when the Gryphon grabbed her legs to spread them apart and admire his work. The scrotum had indeed healed, and without that overflow of testosterone, Zil constantly remained in heat: the perfume emanating from her vulva always drew forth drool and desires from the Gryphon, whose malehood had started to stir within his sheath.

Already pushed the flared tip through the folds, pulling onto the dark foreskin while the pink color spread along the length and adorned the luscious and salty skin.

Many hours had Zil spent working that cock in the confines of their quarters, and she eyed the shaft with desire.

However, the Gryphon didn't plan to use it as he dropped forward by Zil's side with his fingers darting towards the tender and sensitive spot separating the vulva and asshole. A tender spot, just a second after being assaulted by the clawed fingers, elicited weak moans and whimpers from the Sultanah.

"Only that? This a tame torture, my King," groaned Zil, turning to face her husband and nuzzling his neck while the stroke danced around the two orifices, passing in between to stimulate the Dragoness.

"I figure you'd like to tell me how the assembly was before you forget it all. Unless you want me to pry all the details from you, hmmm?"

With this, Zil felt a second finger dancing around her tender orifices, feeling them draw closer and closer to the moist lips and clenched rim. Both had been used and abused, though mostly the latter lately due to the late effect of her pregnancy.

To this thought, the Dragoness chuckled and allowed her wings to flap a little before the Gryphon's inquisitive eyes.

"What is it? My Queen wants some torture before she speaks?" he said, using his closed expression anew. But it didn't work on Zil, who smiled back, a mask she had used over so many years, too.

"No, a stupid thought, my King."

She exhaled, feeling a third finger joining in the dance, tempting and attempting to explore the vulva's inner walls while another was onto her rim, prodding it.

And making the poor Dragoness wince and moan.

"So... Tell me how it happened before you're out of breath," continued the Gryphon, rubbing his beak against Zil's nostrils.

"Hrmphh. I gave the control of the Drakes in the capital to Peithia, she has ideas to remove criminals from this place," began Zil, fighting through the need to impale her asshole on the tempting digit. "But she'll need the help of the Regal Claws."

"She'll have them. I trust her not to abuse the given power," answered Lux, breathing on the nostrils while the digit near the asshole began to push. But its presence was too smooth, without a claw, it wasn't a Gryphon's finger.

"Are you using magic today?" asked Zil, turning towards her legs, but Lux's hand promptly stopped and forced the Queen to look at him.

"Let's keep the discussion, shall we? It's hard to have a little chat when I'm into the moment," said the Gryphon.

Which wasn't wrong, and so... She had to speak. Few words at the time since the Gryphon's fake fingers were more adventurous and had plunged within the depths of her vulva and anus. Both tender orifices were stretched by what she assumed to be telekinesis or another trick from the King. In either case, she was soon fighting against the nerve-wracking orgasms that scoured her body.

"And-... Hrhh. Navar required our assistance in rebuilding his land. I refused on the ground of his previous- Hhhhh recriminations," muttered the Dragoness through her gritted teeth, trying to convey the last of the main topics. There were more, but those were of little consequence for their united front. Hence, she didn't need to voice them.

"You mean because he's a petty Dragon who tried to spark another conflict? I would have stomped on his little palace," grumbled Lux.

The Gryphon was not even hiding he used magic anymore as he had lifted his fingers before Zil's orange eyes. Their movements were echoed by the magical summons now playing and squeezing the Dragoness' prostate until precum spurted from her limp dick.

Like a cat, he rolled his fingers, overly flexing the index to squeeze a few moans from his Queen.

"This- This is why I'm handling civil matters," muttered the Dragoness, her hands now down on her thighs to keep them apart as fluids poured from her vulva, dripping in all directions and mainly on the mattress.

"Yes. And that's why you'll still walk tomorrow."

Lux flicked the air before Zil.

Her eyes opened wide before the sudden pang of pain and pleasure hit her over-swollen prostate. It was like a blow, like a hammer striking her inner walls as she threw her head back against the mattress, puncturing it with her horns in the process. She saw colors, felt sensations run through her spine, shudders shook her body.

And once clarity came back to her in the form of her vision and senses, it was to feel Lux's warmth having left her side and now pressing between her spread and lifted legs.

The Gryphon was on his knees, facing her while "royally" rubbing his equine and massive cock against the Dragoness's taint, weighing on the vulva and anus. Under the warm presence, both shuddered with envy and desires, though it was certain the Gryphon wouldn't use feminine parts today.

That man. He was considerate, lovely, perverted, and playful.

Over the many years, she had tried to find mates among the Kingdom: most of whom sought her power and riches over the promiscuity of a relationship. As the Sultan, Zil had become so isolated she had started to yearn for physical intimacy, even if it had meant something without binds.

During that time, she had been hurting without ever noticing it.

Moreover, it was strange she only noticed it after Lux. After whom she had seen as a Tyrant had asked her to relinquish her Dragonhood. For peace, she had accepted.

But in hindsight. It was the wisest choice she had made.

Losing those Jewels may have led to some phantom pain and glances from the Nobles, weakening her footing within the court.

But in return, she had found a steadfast pillar. A male with a cold gaze, a body befit for a warrior, wits, and a humor only she could appreciate. And, yes, the sex was great too. In comparison, losing her Dragonhood had been a fair trade.

"What are you thinking?"

"Hmmm. Perhaps I'll tell you tomorrow if I can still walk."

"You will. And if you don't, I'll ask the mages to heal you."

"Wait, don't you- Hah!"