Law of the Sword
It was noon the following day that Raji finally let Montiga out of the warm, cavernous belly and into the warm air. It had been a delightful night for both of them: Raji sleeping in the warmth of his personal quarters with a slowly digesting "meal," and Montiga sleeping in the warmth of Raji. However, durable Montiga might have been, he did have his limits, and he was quite happy when Raji opened his mouth wide, providing the first glimmers of light to the trapped ghost naga. Another hour, perhaps even another few minutes, and Montiga would not have the strength to emerge from the jaws. The air had been stale inside the king, although Montiga's strong, efficient lungs were able to skim what oxygen they could. Sleeping as he would, his body entered a sort of hibernation that spared him asphyxiation. Still, his body had its limits, and he was very happy when his head was free of the jaws and he could take his first breath of fresh air. His scales, as well, were durable enough to hold Raji's belly acids at bay, but they were clearly damaged from how long they had been bathed in the digestive juice. Raji's throat muscles clenched, working in reverse to how they had been moving the day before. When Montiga's hands were free, Raji used his arms to aid the other naga in escaping, and when only some of his tail was left, he spat it out.
Montiga, utterly exhausted from what he had been through, curled into a cute ball of dark blue scales. Raji slithered towards him, stroking him, and gave him an affectionate lick on the face.
They dined on a breakfast of quail eggs and roasted pigs. The pigs were not cut, and in snakelike fashion, Montiga and Raji took great pleasure in swallowing two pigs each, whole. The eggs, similarly, were swallowed by the dozen, fed to the two nagas by a steady stream of servants. More and more food was brought out, the wait staff working extra hard for fear they might end up on the plate if their masters were no pleased.
"Where will you go now?" Raji asked, after they had eaten their fill, and the royal naga was escorting his friend to the gates of his kingdom.
Montiga shrugged his thin shoulders. "Wherever."
"I could use you here, you know. These mammals are worthless. Good for heavy lifting and an emergency snack, but that's about it."
Montiga rolled his eyes. What was the nice way of calling someone arrogant? Prideful? He loved Raji with all his heart, but sometimes he could get a little grating. Still, beneath the haughty exterior, Raji was a good king and a noble leader. Barbarians to the west, zealots to the east, and his kingdom standing between them, forever struggling to remain an independent voice; the fate of his people resting on his back. It was something Montiga could never do.
"Mi lord," came a voice, accompanied by the clip clop of hooves.
Raji turned, slithering, and came to face the other direction, and the bull who was trotting over the grounds towards him. "What is it, sergeant?"
"The zealots have invaded the southern part of the city," the bull said. "I need to get you someplace more secure."
The bull reached for Raji's arm, and received a broad smack across the muzzle. He snorted at the naga, who barely took notice. "I do not require a bodyguard, sergeant. Your actions would do better repelling the invaders, not escorting me about. Lend me your spear, and then go rouse your men."
The bull snorted again, before offering the spear he carried to the naga. Drawing his sword, the bull trotted away, off to another part of the city. "Head back to the castle," Raji said, looking to Montiga. "Extinguish the fire in the fire place in my personal chambers. Behind it is a false wall. Follow the tunnel, and it will take you far into the forest."
"Raji, I am not going to abandon you."
Raji hissed, annoyed at the ghost naga, who simply stared, as if insulted at the insinuation of cowardice. At last, Raji simply shrugged, and headed off to the now present sounds of battle, Montiga close to his side. Raji was a warrior king, having claimed dominion over the land through conquest and bloodshed. He did not enjoy fighting, but he was more than capable of it, and with his near sixteen foot long body, rippling with strength and muscle, he was actually quite fierce. Montiga had no formal training, but years and years of solitude had taught him the value of strength, speed, and agility. The warriors of Raji's kingdom were a mix of mercenaries and rebels from the lands the zealots and barbarians had conquered, all fairly competent in the use of sword and shield, and able bodied enough to repel the invasions each time before.
But this time, the zealots had come with numbers the likes of which few kingdoms had ever seen. Perhaps they had managed to conquer another land, and the zealot forces were no longer so tied up. Or perhaps every force was converging upon this one kingdom, to wipe it off the map. Whatever the reason: Raji and his men had the advantage of strength, organization, armor and weapons, but the zealots had numbers. And in the end, it was numbers that decided the victor of the battle.
XXX
"Raji," Montiga called out. "Raji, wake up!"
The first thing Raji was aware of was a sharp pain, shooting down his arms. He groaned at that, and attempted to move his arms to a more comfortable position, but found them firmly shackled above his head. He opened his eyes, and blinked, his tongue hissing out to taste the air as his eyes swayed left and right. "Raji!"
Raji looked to Montiga, who was strung up beside him, quite close actually. "Where are we?" Raji asked.
"From the shackles and barred windows, I would assume some sort of dungeon."
"Fucking vermin," Raji muttered. "Using their numbers to overwhelm their better. I can slay a thousand, but ten thousand stood against me! Little beasts!"
Montiga sighed, and tugged at his shackles, testing their strength. They were old and rusted. A thousand wrists had worn them before. With time and patience, perhaps Montiga could break them, but it seemed the fates still were not on his side. The dungeon was suddenly flooded with light, when the heavy door was pushed open, and a trio of white rats came in. They looked to Raji first, who gave a warning hiss. Two of them held spears to the regal naga, while the third unlocked his shackles. The first shackle was undone without trouble, and Raji's arm fell limp at his side, as if he did not have the strength to lift it. He hissed, confused, and attempted to lift his claw to swipe at the rat, but it seemed his shoulder was numb from remaining above his head so long. Without worry, the rat undid the other shackle, which proved a grave mistake.
In an instant, Raji came to life, and swiped his claw across the rat's throat. Sharp nails cut through the fur and flesh, slicing across an artery and causing the rat to stumble back, his belly and chest fur quickly turning red. Raji swatted his claws at the spears, breaking their shaft, and then swatted one of the rats away. The other was dealt with when a fang pierced its throat.
Raji fetched the key ring from one of the dead rats, and began testing them, trying to find the right one for Montiga's shackles. "I'm impressed," Montiga admitted. "You dealt with them so swiftly."
Raji chuckled. "What? Did you fancy me some pampered prince?"
"Well, the invaders did take you down first."
Raji opened his mouth to chuckle, but a scream suddenly tore through him. Montiga smelled burnt scales, and then Raji fell into him, lying against the ghost naga. Standing behind Raji was one of the white rats, a metal wand in each hand. The rat touched the wands together, causing lightning to spark between them, before pressing them up against Montiga's chest. Pain surged through him, causing him to scream long and loud as his body locked into one muscle. And the pain continued, the rods pressed into his chest without remorse, electrocuting him until it finally became too much, and his head fell limp. Just to be safe, the rat pressed the rods a while longer, before finally pulling them away, and ordering the nagas to now be moved.
It was Raji who woke first this time, and to the sound of heavy breathing overhead. If he thought his body had been sore before, it was nothing compared to this. The electrical discharge running through him had left him with a painful stiffness in his muscles, so even when his eyes were open, pushing his upper body off the ground proved a challenge. He strained a moment, trying to move his arms, and utterly failed at that. Instead, he settled for moving his neck, and as a result his head, left and right. He could not locate the source of the heavy breathing, but he spotted a large, dark blue lump against the ground, and assumed it was Montiga. "Montiga," he muttered, struggling with his body, and succeeding in starting to slither. "Montiga, wake up!"
His arms started to come to life, and with them, he pushed his tired body off the ground and resumed slithering. When he was before Montiga, he inspected the younger naga for damage, and found he was still breathing, just unconscious. Above Raji, a warm breath blew over his back, and he twisted suddenly, claws extended, prepared to guard Montiga as he lay there, helpless, although it was quickly apparent that even a warrior of Raji's caliber would stand no change against the threat he was confronted with.
The source of the warm breath was a dragon, purple in color, and with dimensions the likes of Raji had never seen. It was large and stocky, perhaps twenty feet tall, and with a bulk that spoke of strength and power. It was bipedal, with a stance and build not unlike a predator Rex, but its size was so... by the heavens, it was enormous, and Raji actually found himself attempting to slither back. He was not accustomed to being the smaller creature. With a length of sixteen feet, most creatures he came upon could be devoured if the mood took him. Now, he felt an odd terror he might end up in the dragon's belly.
Montiga started to stir, finding the same numbness in his limbs that Raji had awoken to. He pushed himself off the ground, looking about, but his lips were suddenly clamped shut by Raji's claw.
The dragon stared at them, his warm breath blowing over the two like a bath of steam. Sickening. But Raji did not move, and did not allow his claw to leave Montiga's mouth. Laughter suddenly rumbled from out of the dragon's throat, and his massive hips dropped. The ground actually shook as he came to sit down, his feet out, his legs almost corralling the two nagas. "My, the Lieutenant has done well today. What an impressive sacrifice he has brought before me."
It was surprising that the dragon could talk. Raji had encountered dragons before, and always knew them to be brainless brutes, possessing no thoughts other than where their next meal would come from. Still, he did not show his surprise or fear, and casually said, "I am King Raji. May I ask who I am addressing?"
"I am Graar." He laughed. "King Raji? The arrogance of your name is amusing to me. What could you possibly be king of? A land which will soon fall under my command, or subjects who shall soon fill my belly?"
Raji swallowed. "I am the ruler of a mighty kingdom, with many great warriors who will not rest until I am safely returned to the throne. If you allow my compatriot and I to leave, then I may be able to quell the anger that floods my warriors' hearts. I am willing to overlook the mistake that your Lieutenant made in attacking one of my castles, as long as you provide me his head and compensation in gold. But if any harm befalls myself or Montiga, my wrath shall be severe."
"Montiga?" the dragon asked, and his hand descended. He snatched up the ghost naga with ease, squeezing him until his serpentine body went still. "Is he your lover?"
It was the candor of the question, more than the subject, that gave Raji pause. Eventually he said, "Yes. And should any harm befall him, it shall be taken as harm befalling myself."
Graar examined the naga a moment, as if undecided, but eventually dropped him at Raji's front. "Show your love."
Raji stared at the dragon, and then to Montiga, who looked utterly baffled at what was to be done. Raji had some ideas though, and slithered towards Montiga. Graar was looming very close, and because Raji was not sure of a dragon's sense of hearing, he did not risk whispering Montiga a message. What could he say, anyway? Give Montiga some words of assurance? Tell him to play along? There was no point. Raji very gently licked his tongue over Montiga's face. He moved his tongue lower, softly licking at Montiga's throat and shoulders, and then moved lower still. Holding Montiga, he eased him onto his back as he continued to softly kiss the scaly pectorals and go down to the belly. A gust of warm steam blew over them as Graar leaned closer, apparently eager to see every lewd detail. Raji ignored him, and focused on drawing cute circles in the purple underbelly with his green and black tongue. And then lower still, until he found the house of Montiga's two erections.
It was beneath a Naga King to service another male, but Raji had no choice. Montiga could still barely move, having been shocked so harshly by the electrical wands. Raji hoped to buy enough time that Montiga's feelings would return, and then they could... do something to escape. For now though, he had to put on a show.
Most often on the receiving end of affection, Raji was a little clumsy being the giver. He worked hard, however, running his tongue gently over the lips of the sheath, one of the forks occasionally slipping inside and touching the two glans. His goal was to take as much time as he could, but Montiga's body was soon reacting to the stimulation. The start of a pair of erections began to peek through the scales and come into the warm air of the dragon's personal chambers. Raji could not stop, either, as the warm breath blowing over him was a clear sign that Graar was still looming.
So he worked; diligently, patiently, using his forked tongue to brush over the steadily growing erections. He coiled his tongue around one, and squeezed it tight. To Raji's amusement, that caused the second erection to bulge and start to engorge faster, as it did not have to share the supply of blood or pre. Despite himself, and the gravity of the situation he was in, Raji took his time, squeezing both erections on and off, causing the other to bulge and swell. He noticed that Montiga was starting to move more and more, and once even humped into the air, knocking Raji's head back. That earned a hiss of annoyance, but Raji slithered forward, starting to climb over the darker naga.
Raji did not notice immediately, but his own erection had started to peak out of the golden scales of his underbelly. Only when it brushed against the smooth scales of Montiga's underside did he become aware of the jutting green cock. It felt pleasant, how his penis was brushed, and he continued forward until he was face to face with Montiga. He dipped his head, very softly licking and nuzzling over his face, and was a little embarrassed to say not all of this was just a show.
It seemed Graar had been enjoying himself. The royal naga's eyes happened to the dragon, to see if he was still watching as intently. With Montiga mostly recovered from the electrical shocks, he could set his focus on finding a way out of the enormous room they were trapped inside. He groaned in disgust as he noticed Graar's penis: as massive as one might associate with a dragon of his size, and an ugly pinkish color. He slipped his tongue out without thinking, and was forced to taste the heavy, draconic musk that had filled the air. He almost gagged at it, but bit back his revulsion, not wanting to displease his overlord while he was still watching.
"Yes, what a wonderful tribute the Lieutenant has offered. I must remember not to eat him."
Raji felt a pressure around his middle, as Graar's fingers found his torso. He was pried away from Montiga's embrace, and squeezed around the middle, under the arms. The dragon squatted, and scooped Montiga up in a similar manner, before bringing them both to his face. His massive pink tongue brushed over Montiga, but apparently displeased at the taste of ghost naga, held him away. Raji, however, must have been succulent to his taste buds, because again and again, the pink tongue brushed over his scales, soon coating him in sticky, foul saliva.
Graar looked down at his mammoth erection, and then to the two squirming nagas held in either hand. He cupped the nagas to be sure they would not squirm free (as they were snakes and, therefore, slightly difficult to keep hold of,) before gently pressing them up against his impressive erection.
Both squirming nagas came to life immediately: beating and pounding and biting the huge shaft, thicker than the thickest part of their body. Graar growled gently, eyes closed, and squeezed the two scaly bodies up against his hot flesh. He had done this with the rats who displeased him, and their fur was a delightful tickle against his sensitive penis. But having scales against him was so much better. Even the little lacerations their grinding scales caused against his cock only heightened the lustful thrill.
Montiga and Raji both felt their bodies start to compress, as Graar squeezed them harder and harder against his dragonhood. Their bodies were naturally flexible and resilient, enduring pressures that would reduce most others to jelly. Even venomous nagas were more than capable of squeezing the life out of their victims, should the need arise. But the two were finding it increasingly difficult to breath, both because of the massive girth they were pressed upon, as well as the heavy odor that smothered them both. The horror of the situation only grew worse as Graar began to rock his hips back and forth, driving his cock forward as if he were humping into a mate. The little lacerations that their scales caused, the pressure of their scaly form against his flesh, and their pitiful cries as he bathed them in his musk, it all worked him so hard and quick. Pre dribbled out of his enormous shaft; warm, sticky beads of cream rolling down his girth and wetting his claw and the nagas. It caused their sliding to grow easier, but it became harder to keep hold of them.
He did not care. It had been so long since he had a mate, and the urge to relieve himself was aching. His rat minions could serve him in a fix, but these nagas were as close to a fellow dragon as he was likely to have. He humped and grinded, snarling and gasping, squeezing them harder and harder until even their strong bodies were likely to break.
When he hit his climax, he felt his grip on the squirming nagas slip. He was not sure which one he had dropped, nor did he care. He simply squeezed his erection tighter, as a heavy spurt emerged from the glans, dropping to the ground with a loud splash. Another spurt rippled from him, his body quaking in raw lust as draconic seed rained down. Another spurt, and another. He squeezed his erection (and the naga trapped in his hand,) on and off mercilessly, unconcerned if he killed the creature, as he had no trouble raping and devouring a corpse.
Eventually, he fell back, and landed with a room shaking quake. His body was tight and his breathing ragged and his erection still spurted the occasional dribble. He tilted back, sighing, his balls feeling delightfully relieved of their pressure, and he looked down to see which naga was trapped in his hand.
He was in luck! It was the purple and blue one, which meant the delicious gold and red was safe on the ground, not that he was concerned with it at the moment. Graar's interest was in what to do with this one, who he did not want to eat. He had released so hard, that his testicles were feeling rather empty, and a devious idea crossed his mind. With his other hand, he pinched the naga around the tail and lifted him up slowly. Although squeezed and soaked in white goo, Montiga had not expired, and suddenly came to life: struggling, flailing and squirming pitifully in the grip. Graar's other hand came into play, and he carefully pinched Montiga's arms to his side. Lowering him, he brushed Montiga's snout against the wide and gaping slit that crowned the erection's head. Montiga attempted to scream, but there was some residual white bubbling out of the slit, and he was terrified of drowning in it. Struggling and fighting madly, he actually managed to crane his head up and take in a deep breath, before his face was once more stuffed into the slit.
This time, Graar placed a finger on the back of his head, and applied pressure until the entire skull had slipped past the lips of the slit. Graar pinched Montiga tight at the shoulders next, and started to slowly feed him inside. Inch by horrid inch, Montiga felt himself enveloped into the squishy warmth, the cream washing over his scales. The scents were unbearably musky and warm. Soon, Graar did not even have to hold his arms at his side, as the slit was tightly embracing Montiga's upper body, and was now at the naga's equivalent of a navel.
Graar took his time feeding Montiga inside him. He had done this with some rats, but that always seemed like it was over before it began. There was so much naga to devour, and the pleasure of having scales brush his inner tunnel was nothing short of intoxicating. Montiga was fighting furiously, elbowing his sensitive inner walls in fact. There was a sizable bulk in the upper half of his shaft, his cock showing the naga's body. Montiga was in deep enough, Graar decided. His panicked squirming was only succeeding in working the thick body down the tight tunnel, and to make him fight, Graar squeezed his penis on and off. Oh, it felt amazing, but where had the delicious snake gone?
Graar spotted his red and gold scales against the dark of the stone floor and walls. A mark of his regality, they now served to seal his fate. He had been lucky to keep hold of the darker naga, as if he had lost him, he might have been able to blend into the shadows, and Graar would never have found him.
Graar stood, groaning as the shift in his body forced the naga to slide a few more feet down his cock. Every step was shaky. His legs threatened to buckle at any moment, but eventually he reached Raji, and braced himself on the wall, looming over him. Raji had found the door the rats used to enter their master's quarters, and was struggling feebly to make it budge open. He was in a clear panic, as he did not even try to flee as Graar's hand came down, sure that the door would open at the last moment and he would be free.
Graar pinched him under the arms, and lifted him to his face. The dragon's tongue slithered out, brushing over Raji's body and pulling him close. Eventually, Raji's tail caught on Graar's lips. Raji watched in horror as Graar's lips puckered, and with a sudden slurp, he had drawn the naga into his maw. Raji held tight to the fingers for his very life. His green eyes were wide, and his mouth was agape. He could not comprehend this, that he was the one being eaten! He refused to believe it, and held tighter to the finger as dragon began to suckle on his form. Graar did not mind. Perhaps it was his royal breed, but the naga just tasted delicious, and Graar was happy to suckle on the form, patiently waiting for Raji's strength to buckle.
Raji held on for a long time. It was impressive in fact, how he simply refused to let go despite how strong he was suckled upon. Graar got bored of the game first, and lifted one of his claws to Raji's underside. He brushed over the serpent's belly, and then under his arms, searching for a ticklish spot. But it seemed Raji's scales protected him from being tickled. Moving down his body, Graar found Raji's green penis, which had not retreated into its home this entire time. For a moment, Raji lost his hold, but quickly dug his nails into one of Graar's scales. Graar smiled, and with the tip of his finger, brushed against Raji's girth, stroking the penis, making the royal naga groan and wiggle. Very gently, and no longer bored, Graar poked and rubbed the penis, until Raji suddenly lost his precarious grip. In one great slurp, the red and gold naga had disappeared, past the scaly lips and into the warm maw. Graar tilted his head back, and gulped. The tip of Raji's tail slipped down the throat, caught on the squeezing muscle, and Graar gulped again. It felt strange to swallow something so long and wormy. His head and upper body was still on Graar's tongue when his tail tip was past the sphincter of the belly, and Graar was worried he might choke on the snake. Graar fished a finger inside his maw, finally finding Raji's face and pushing him down as he swallowed again and again. Still, Raji struggled, and then started to fight when he finally reached Graar's belly.
"A king fit for a meal," Graar muttered, chuckling as he rolled back. His penis had almost finished sucking down his other captive. He could already feel Montiga's hands in his scrotum, the naga poking and searching for a way out of the fleshy sack. He felt so delightful.
The conquest had been a rousing success. With the naga's kingdom out of the way, Graar could devote his full forces to the wolves of the north. They would fall. They always fell, and their leaders would experience the ultimate humiliation, just like these two snakes had. Graar rubbed his belly patiently. The naga was so large, he actually felt full. Much to his surprise, Raji was still squirming and fighting like mad. So was Montiga, as a matter-a-fact. Perhaps, later, he would let them out, assuming they were still alive. It had been delightful to devour them, and he would love to do it again and again. But for now, he was tired, and stretched himself over the heated floor, preparing to sleep and work at digesting his two meals.