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Thorpe dragged himself up the steps of the tower as lightning flashed around him. It almost seemed to seep through the stone, as though the light wasn't quite sure what to do with itself - the intensity of the magic around them buzzed, corrupting and twisting the very nature of everything around it. It was dazzling, and it made it hard to focus for the poor knight, who'd only barely managed to wrestle back control over himself.

He'd kept stroking himself off on the way to the tower. His progress had been slow - he'd had to stop every once in a while, panting at the need for pleasure that coursed through his body. The sensations were incredible, and his new form made him feel tough, powerful. He was a specimen of masculinity, enhanced by the power of a demon. A part of him ached to show that off, and he consumed himself with his fantasies. Thorpe pumped himself with his claws in a frenzied manner, his hands wandered his new body with wanton lust...

But there was a part of him that remained, a part of him that was still Thorpe. He recognised that his friend had been twisted beyond recognition, and he clung on to that - used that to fuel his anger and determination, though every so often he was broken by the pleasure. In that sense, it was a good thing the travel to the tower had taken as long as it had. It had given the knight time to regain himself, slowly but surely.

As he was now... Thorpe knew what he wanted, and why he wanted it. He still wanted - still _needed_the pleasure, and every so often he would stop to bring himself to a shuddering climax. He would stain the stones with his corrupted seed, watching as strange dark purple veins spread through the gray rock. Then he would hold still for a moment and try to bring himself back into focus, to push the lust out of his mid.

He barely noticed when he'd finally reached the top of the tower; instead, he leaned his heavy weight against the door, his claws running up and down his erect, leaking shaft. Guttural growls escaped him, almost metallic in their nature - they resonated with a strange sound. "Ngh... Y-yes..."

Thorpe tried to stop, but it felt so good, the feel of strong, powerful claws wrapped gently around his dick. It was the kind of pleasure and worship he deserved. Precum trailed out of his cock, making his claws slip and slide over the sensitive organ. His back twisted as he pushed against the wood, scratching gouges into it in the throes of his pleasure.

To think just his own hands would feel this good... How would it feel with the demon's on it?

Cum spurted out of his cock at the mere thought, the metallic creature groaning with barely restrained pleasure. The demonic seed mixed with the stains already on his chest, slowly dripping back down onto the floor. He panted as he slowly came down from the orgasmic high.

He was still horny. He still needed more.

But he forced himself to focus, staring at the glint of steel in his blade. For all that he had lost, from the enchanted armor he'd been afforded to almost all remnants of his humanity - the blade reminded him of what he had left to fight for. Khalmeth, whose noble nature had been lost to his depravity. Astronath, a kingdom that could very well be taken down by this very demon.

Khalmeth, please. Thorpe was taking a risk, communicating through their link; he was corrupted enough now that the flood of lust through their bond only added a miniscule amount to his own. It took all his effort to concentrate. If there's any part of you that's still there, I'm going to need your help.

Silence from across the link. Thorpe imagined he felt the dragon nodding, slowly but surely, but his mind was so lost that he couldn't be sure that he felt it at all.

The demonic knight pushed open the heavy wooden door, surprised at how light it felt to his newly armored hands. He wasn't sure what he was expecting.

Whatever it was, it certainly hadn't been for a demon to stare at him with an expectant smile, lounging back in a throne made of stones of dark purple. Four eyes raked appreciatively over his exposed, metallic body. Two of the demon's four arms crossed politely in front of his chest. The other two, however, were putting on a lewd display - slowly teasing his cock with gentle caresses and strokes.

Thorpe's eyes couldn't help but be drawn towards that fascinating shaft. It was hard and throbbing, precum leaking liberally from the tip to pour down the demon's hands. Perhaps it should have been the pink, crossed mark on the demon's chest that drew his attention... But each time he tried to focus, to take stop of his mas- enemy, his attention was drawn back to that delicious looking shaft, oozing with slick pre...

"Demon." Thorpe's voice was a low growl, grinding metal and barely restrained lust. The demon in question sat back in his chair; his hands never stopped teasing and playing with himself, and in spite of himself, Thorpe's eyes were constantly drawn back there.

"Well now, that's no way to greet a friend." The demon's voice was faintly amused, not the least bit surprised that Thorpe had managed to hold on to some vestige of his humanity. "Introductions first, no? My name is Thamaxar. And you are...?"

"Thorpe." The answer had been almost dragged out of him, unwilling though he was. The knight staggered forwards slightly as his lust threatened to overwhelm him, but he held firm.

Or at least he tried.

Thamaxar chose that moment to step forward off of his throne, arms folded carefully behind his back. His shaft stood prouly erect in front of him, even as he approached the transformed knight and tilted his head. He gazed into Thorpe's eyes with his own upper set, a dim red hue emitting from them as a faint glow.

Thorpe faltered for a moment.

It was bad enough that his new form seemed to be constantly aroused. The slightest movement or brush against his metallic skin made him shudder with pleasure, filled him with need - but as Thamaxar stared into his eyes, he felt something shift.

It wasn't anything easily defined - more a change in perspective. Thorpe noticed the defined muscle of the demon's arms, the broad chest and handsome smirk. He tried to pull back, to stagger away, but he couldn't take his eyes off the demon's. The glow seemed to draw him in, filling his mind with thoughts and fantasies that didn't quite agree with him.

Look at how perfect your master's body is. The voice was an insidious whisper. Would it not feel good to worship it? To let go and give yourself over to it?

He saw himself, then, in the images that accompanied the voice. Images of his new body having succumbed to Thamaxar's influence, slurping eagerly away at the demonic shaft and swallowing every drop of precum. His fluids would be tainted with corrupting magic; every drop he swallowed, he would lose himself more and more, until nothing mattered but the demon's cock. And he wanted it, almost; to let go of his anger and responsibilities, to become nothing but a lust-filled servant of a handsome demon that would make his every living moment bliss...

But there was a part of him that could not accept that, and refused to break. The ritual that linked man and dragon did something else that was little known - a small portion of each participant's soul would be broken off, hidden within the soul of their partner. Even the strongest of corrupting magic could not affect a soul within a soul.

In Khalmeth, Thorpe's essence had been too small - to little to offer much resistance when the dragon's more powerful soul was corrupted. Thorpe, however, had a bit of dragon in him that refused to give up. Khalmeth's honor and pride, the dignity he retained, his hopes for the kingdom of Astronath... they burned strong within him.

So he resisted.

A voice whispered seductively into his ear about all the things his master would do to him - how it would be like to be bent over at any moment and filled with thick, throbbing demonic cock, to have his new body filled with pleasure and bliss. It whispered to him of Thamaxar's particular proclivities, his lusts and indulgences, all the ways he would be used and all the ways he would love it.

Thorpe wanted. His body strained for him to accept, wanting nothing but to submit to the handsome demon before him. The longer he stared into Thamaxar's eyes, the more attractive the demon looked, the more his arousal grew unchecked. He could almost feel the taste of the demon's skin on his tongue, hear the guttural growls of pleasure that would be released as he worshipped every inch of that magnificent body.

He took a step forward, his body trembling, his cock aching with desire and need...

And Thamaxar smiled. The haze of lust rose from the knight's mind just as suddenly as it had begun. Thorpe staggered, momentarily confused.

"Well done," Thamaxar praised. He moved forward, one hand reaching forward to tilt the knight's chin up towards him. Thorpe shuddered, a small, helpless moan escaping him at the contact - his body was helpless with the demon's mere touch. "I've never had anyone resist me quite that strongly before. You're rather impressive, aren't you?"

"I... have Khalmeth," Thorpe gasped out, panting heavily. It was hard to think clearly with the demon's body so close to his own; he could reach out if he wanted to, touch him and complete his own corruption - but a core of gold pulsed within him, and he stopped.

Thamaxar paused, raising a ridged brow at the knight. A faint glow of dark magic seemed to seep from his hand - and he smiled, seemingly impressed. "So you do. That explains that, then. If that is the case, let me show you something else."

Thorpe flinched backwards, a sudden premonition telling him not to let the demon do whatever it was he was about to do - but it was too late.

A bright purple glow flared from the demon's lower set of eyes, its power drilling straight into Thorpe's mind. The knight groaned softly as he tried to resist, worked together with the piece of Khalmeth's soul that was still pure to banish Thamaxar's magic - but it tore through that barrier like it was nothing, forcing his mind to retreat into itself and pushing it into a fantasy far more intense than Khalmeth's idle daydreams.

"Hello, sir." Thorpe's voice was hard, a mixture of metal and gravel. Alwyn turned around calmly, looking at his former knight. He didn't flinch, despite Thorpe's now terrifying visage - he'd been changed even more since finally accepting the demon's mastery over him and his body. His body was hulking, powerful; the metal that protected his torso had fused to his muscle, shifting and moving every time he moved.

Most importantly were the four eyes he now sported, and the proud silver horns that spiralled from the top of his head. They were suitably demonic in nature, looking to almost shift and shimmer - like a fire of metal that could not be extinguished.

"It seems you have won." Alwyn's voice was tired, weary. There were dark circles under his eyes, though the magical armor he wore kept him awake. The blade he carried at his side, too, was nothing to laugh at; it was a modern Excalibur, supposedly capable of winning any battle and cutting without resistance. A dangerous opponent, to say the least.

Of course, Thorpe hadn't arrived seeking a fight. His ridged cock hung proud between his legs, flaccid for the moment yet still seeping with a clear precum. The smell was strong, but not unpleasant; rather, it was a faintly salty scent that brought to mind images of submission and debauchery.

"Have you resigned yourself to your fate?" Thorpe's massive arms folded across his chest, even as he glanced down at his former commander. The man was still handsome, in a very traditional sense - a little worn down, perhaps.

He wouldn't be worn down for much longer. Thorpe could imagine the commander panting and moaning his name, eagerly riding his cock and begging for more. All it would take was time... though the thought that Alwyn might be willing sent blood rushing downwards.

"Hardly." Alwyn's eyes glittered with determination, a hand clenching tight around his sword. "You may have driven back my forces through trickery and magic, but do not think I will be so easily turned."

"Oh, I don't." Thorpe's smile was devious. "I anticipate the challenge. Sir."

Alwyn shook his head slowly, glancing sadly at the man in front of him. One of the most promising young knights, and he had become a monster taken by his lust and carnal desires. "Is there nothing left of the Thorpe I knew?"

Thorpe laughed. The sound was deep and booming, echoing through the chamber and causing the floor to tremble and shake. Alwyn stood in the middle of it all, unaffected and unflinching, and refused to turn away - even when the monster that used to be his knight leaned in close, his breath ghosting past the man's ear.

"Sure. I remember." Thorpe's smile was dark. "I remember how much I wanted to fuck you."

Alwyn's eyes widened. He brought his sword up just in time to deflect a blow that would otherwise have sent him sprawling to the ground. It glanced off of his sword, instead - and the metal glinted oddly in the failing light.

It should have been an effortless block, but Alwyn stumbled from the force, glancing sharply up at the demon in shock. Thorpe watched as Alwyn's face changed to one of realisation - the magic that his weapons and armor were enchanted with would not work, not on a demon of metal like himself. Like repelled like; while enchanted swords could tear easily into living flesh, metallic creatures were the singular exception.

It was a strange little quirk of magic, and one was rarely known - creatures of metal, after all, were not particularly common. For good reason, too. They were hard to shape, and harder to maintain; their nature made it so that all types of magic tended to slip off of them, given they usually had both organic and metallic components.

But if Thorpe had been assuming that Alwyn's hope would be dashed, that he would give in... well.

He was wrong.

Alwyn's face settled into one of grim determination, the look of a man who realised the inevitability of his defeat and nevertheless wanted to go out fighting. There was no hesitation in his face, no fear in his eyes - he stepped forward and swung his sword.

Thorpe caught it.

He smirked as familiar purple veins spread along the enchanted metal, his corrupted form twisting the very nature of the magic laid upon it. Alwyn wrenched the sword out of his grasp, and he watched with amusement as the knight realised the spell now upon it. He dropped it quickly, the metal clattering onto the ground with a certain finality.

Alas, he'd done it far too late. Alwyn couldn't see it himself, wouldn't know until it was far too late - but Thorpe could see it with his newly enhanced senses. His corrupted magic had infected the commander's armor; it had simply chosen a subtler approach, the purple spreading along the inside of the metal rather than the outside.

"Seems you're without your weapon, sir," Thorpe said with an air of mock respect. "Would you like to use mine instead?"

The lewd look he gave Alwyn made it obvious what he was talking about. He laughed as the commander punched forward, enhanced strength causing the blow to plow straight through the wall as he dodged out of the way. There was an odd sort of focus on Alwyn's face, a strange anger that had replaced the sad determination from before.

Which had been the point, of course. Thorpe wouldn't have taunted Alwyn with that rather horrible line otherwise, but it served his purposes, nudged the human towards a slightly angrier frame of mind.

"You're a disgrace." Alwyn's voice was calm and controlled - but there was a tremor in it as the commander did his best to withhold his anger. "You dishonor everything that Thorpe once was."

"Hardly," the demonic creature countered with a lazy smile, dancing out of the way of the commander's blows with a stunning agility. "I'm better than he ever was. Stronger, faster, more powerful..."

"Lost_," Alwyn pointed out, his eyes narrowed. "You are lost. What purpose do you serve? Mindless pleasure and unthinking obedience? Debauchery and decadence?"_

"All of those things," Thorpe agreed easily. "But is that so bad? To stop worrying about all your responsibilities, to revel in the baser pleasures in life... what could be so wrong about that?"

"It's wrong!" The magic was having an effect, clearly; it dulled the commander's mind, made it harder for him to think, to counter. Was it wrong? Something inside him told him that it was, but he could no longer remember why.

"Why?" Thorpe's response was calm. He stared at the commander with an even gaze, arms folded across his chest. Muscle bulged proudly under the metallic armor of his skin, almost seeming to stretch under his power. "You felt an attraction to me when I entered, did you not? A powerful body like mine, the strength of a demon... Do you not want to know what that's like? To be ruthlessly fucked_, to revel in nothing but the pleasure of a thick cock filling you from within?"_

"No!" Alwyn's response was a growl, deeper than his voice should have been able to go. He didn't seem to realise it, however. "I want no such thing! I want my kingdom returned to me!"

"Your kingdom, sir?" Thorpe rose a ridged brow. "Does it not belong to the king?"

"And yet it is I who toil away to protect it, spend many a sleepless night fighting against your armies," Alwyn replied bitterly. "No. This kingdom is mine to protect. You demons are nothing before me."

Thorpe snorted, his face twisting into a mocking smile. "Seems to me that we're the ones winning." The former knight smiled at his former commander, something dark and devious hidden in his grin. "But perhaps you'd like to prove me wrong?"

"I'm stronger than you lot," Alwyn snarled. A sudden burst of strength and he shoved, pushing Thorpe to the ground. His muscles had begun to grow and expand underneath his armor, and now his body strained against the metal. The commander didn't seem to notice; he pinned the demon on the ground, glaring right into Thorpe's eyes. "I'm better. You should be the one afraid of me."

The armor tore, metal screeching apart as spikes burst from the commander's back; his skin had turned a deep crimson, even as his body continued to grow and stretch. The armor fell away, though small pieces molded themselves onto his body as more permanent forms protection; shoulder plates, for instance, and protective chitin along his hands and legs.

The enchantment on Alwyn prevented him from noticing however - he'd grown enough to pin Thorpe properly against the ground, now, though his changes were far from complete. Thorpe chuckled softly.

"Are you, sir?" The demon's voice was almost mockingly seductive, the final word emphasized to send a thrill through the commander's body. Alwyn growled low in his throat; his muscles had expanded even further, and the skin along his chest was a lighter red than the rest of his body. Small scales seemed to be forming on his skin, the soft flesh slowly hardening into hard skin, then splitting into the familiar pattern of scales.

"I am stronger than you. More powerful." Alwyn's voice was deep and guttural, now, the growl of a monster rather than the voice of a man.

"Are you?" Thorpe taunted. His own impressive bulk strained against Alwyn, though he wasn't truly trying to fight - he was merely looking to put forth a good show. "Are strength and power all that matters? What about libido? If you were truly better, you would be able to make me submit."

"You demons are all alike." Alwyn's face was distorting before Thorpe's very eyes, and the former knight loved it. He was hard, his cock throbbing at the mere thought of his former commander's kind soul being twisted into something darker, his pride and dignity turning into dominance and superiority. "I'll show you exactly how much better I am."

Thorpe caught a glimpse of nubs growing on Alwyn's head even as the monstrous, reptilian creature flipped him around - an act that was easy to his now immense strength. The scales had spread to Alwyn's face, turning it rugged and demonic; his eyes turned a pitch black, even as his mouth stretched into a lewd grin.

Thorpe felt something long and hard pressing against his ass. Alwyn was asserting his dominance and station, short huffs and growls escaping from the former commander. The shaft that stretched out from between his legs was ridged, tapered at the tip; Thorpe couldn't help but moan softly, feeling it press against him.

"Do you realize how much more I am now?" Alwyn's voice was a low growl that was filled with lust. "No matter. You need to be shown your place - underneath me, as my bitch."

His cock was leaking precum heavily, utterly twisted by the corrosive force that warped his body. It pressed against Thorpe's tight entrance, pushed in easily with Alwyn's new strength and pre to lube up the thrust.

Even as Alwyn growled low with satisfaction, Thorpe moaned with pleasure. He had been built for this - to serve and be served, to bow low before his betters and service them with his body. The former knight had admired his commander even when he'd been a human; his first thought upon converting had not been to dominate him, despite what he said.

No, it was to be dominated by him. And that was a far more interesting challenge.

Alwyn roared with pleasure as his newly thick cock pressed into Thorpe, stretching him open and drawing moans from the metallic creature he had become. He scratched at the floor, claws gouging easily through the stone as his own shaft pressed against his stomach; waves of pleasure spread through him as his former commander pounded into him.

"Do you still believe me weak, Thorpe?" Alwyn panted, his voice heavy with lust. He grinded into the demonic creature beneath him, loving the way he squirmed and gasped as his ridged cock pressed against his prostate. "Or do you acknowledge my superiority?"

"I..." Thorpe began - but fell silent again, deliberately teasing the reptilian beast above him. Alwyn growled low in his throat, pleasure and amusement warring within him.

"Too overwhelmed, perhaps?" The former commander's tone was smug. "You must enjoy being taken down a notch - being fucked and violated, just like you deserve." He leaned in for a whisper. "Tell me how much you like it, Thorpe."

"I need it," Thorpe gasped, his eyes glazed over with arousal. He felt the corrupting magic from Alwyn's cock and deliberately allowed it to take him over, moaning as the surge of pleasure and desire threatened to overwhelm. "Please, master, I can think of nothing else..."

Those were the words Alwyn was looking for, it seemed. The almost draconic beast let out a roar, his shaft pushing deep into Thorpe one final time. Hot seed spurted into the other demon's eager passage, and the sheer feel of it...

Well, it was enough for Thorpe to cry out against the floor, cum spilling out of him and staining both his stomach and the ground.

"Now come," Alwyn growled. "The master awaits."

Thorpe followed, hiding a smile behind his submissive gaze. The master, indeed...

The knight jerked back from the illusion with a gasp. There was a fire in his mind, a burning desire that had built from scene that Thamaxar had built. It had felt real - more than that, had felt like he'd genuinely been there, betraying his own commander and drawing him to the side of lust and debauchery.

What was worse, perhaps, was the fact that he'd _liked_it. The feeling of power over another man's destiny - the eventual corruption of their very nature, the control he had over them... It was something he'd never had before, and Thamaxar had granted him a taste of it. The demon watched him with a faint smirk on his face, as though he knew exactly the thoughts going through Thorpe's mind.

"Struggling with yourself, knight?" Thamaxar chuckled, his arms once again folding behind his back. His voice turned seductive, a low whisper that crackled in the very depths of Thorpe's subconscious. "There is no harm in giving in. Think how much more free you will feel, the chaos you will be able to seed..."

Thorpe stared at the demon. His eyes traced Thamaxar's muscular form, his four arms and charming smirk, the exotic length that stood hard between his legs. He stood at the precipice, lust warring with loyalty.

And then he remembered.

Khalmeth - a dragon, of all things, one of the creatures most resistant to magic - had failed to fight the corruption. On his own, there simply wasn't a point in resisting. He would fail eventually, going the same way as all others who had tried to fight against the proud demon standing before him.

But what if he went in the opposite direction?

His mind was unusually sharp as he stood on the brink. It helped that the corruption spreading through his mind encouraged him to remember every little detail of the fantasy Thamaxar had forced into his mind. The demon hadn't simply showed him an illusion - at least, Thorpe didn't think he had. It seemed more like he'd plucked his mind and placed it into a possible future...

But Thorpe had learned something from that future.

Like repels like.

Creatures of metal were largely immune to most forms of magic. Corruption, perhaps, was the sole exception. It was the sort of magic that could usually corrode anything, no matter how pure or noble; it inverted a concept and twisted it against itself. Demonic magic worked on similar principles.

He couldn't fight the corruption. It was an inevitability that he would fail.

So Thorpe did something different. He trusted in that fragment of Khalmeth's soul that was still within him, and he embraced the corruption in its entirety. He opened his connection with the dragon to its fullest, letting all that corrupted pride fill him to the brim - and when he smiled at Thamaxar, it was a dark smile, filled with lecherous intent.

The demon realised what was happening an instant too late. Four eyes widened in surprise as hungry lips captured his own, Thorpe's body suddenly expanding even further as he gave himself over to the corruption. The magic raced through his body, causing the metallic shell to expand as his body grew - then contract to form tightly around his muscles. Horns spiralled from his head like silver fire; his claws grew, spikes and guards forming around his arms and legs...

Thamaxar groaned. He'd never had his own magic forced back on him before; the presence before him was a nexus of corruption so strong that he felt himself being pulled into it. He kissed back just as hungrily, allowed the creature's tongue to explore his mouth as a thick, ridged cock pressed against his own; he revelled in the sheer power his creation exhibited, the ability it had to overcome even him.

But that was the magic speaking. Thamaxar focused, pouring his magic into a quick spell meant to shove Thorpe off of him - but like repelled like, and Thorpe was now so much greater a force for corruption that the spell barely even touched him.

Instead, it only seemed to serve to make him even more aroused. The former knight growled, a look in his eyes that Thamaxar recognised all too well; it was the look of hunger he usually directed towards pets that had fully succumbed to him. To have that gaze directed towards him instead...

...It was oddly arousing. The demon groaned. He was a creature of lust to begin with; asking him to resist corruption to his own abilities was an exercise in futility. He could feel the waves of desire radiating off of Thorpe, the dominance in his eyes - and his resistance crumbled with each wave.

Thorpe chuckled, the sound low and sensual. He reached down to grope at Thamaxar's balls, gently caressing the sensitive skin and loving the way the demon grit his teeth and arched into his touch. "Never had a victim do this before, have you?" The former knight was smug, teasing him with touch and power; a claw reached down to gather the demon's precum, bringing it up for a taste.

Then he caught Thamaxar in a kiss, sharing the taste again between the two of them. Thamaxar moaned softly, then caught himself; his chest was heaving, his breaths hot and heavy.

"I must admit... it was unexpected." Thamaxar's bolts of magic splashed harmlessly off of Thorpe's metal, though the effort was halfhearted at best. He'd never been dominated before - but demons recognised when they were defeated, and there was a part of him that was excited. New experiences could only add to his aresenal, after all, and he had all the time in the world...

"You think too highly of yourself," Thorpe said with a chuckle. "I have Khalmeth by my side. With _both_of us corrupted, eager for nothing but sex and pleasure... Did you really think you could beat us?" His hand slowly strokes along both their cocks as they pressed against each other; Thorpe grinded his hips against the demon's, drawing forth a faint moan of pleasure.

"Mm... perhaps I did," Thamaxar admitted. He shuddered as the pleasure rolled through his body, adjusting himself so that the friction with Thorpe's cock was a little stronger. He thought he'd gone unnoticed, but the faint grin from Thorpe told him that was far from the case. "What of it?"

"Pride," Thorpe said with a short laugh. His eyes gleamed as he pushed Thamaxar back onto his throne, and this time the demon didn't resist - he merely let out a short, gasping moan as the pleasure began to build, and the feeling of being dominated, of having to submit to a greater demon began to overwhelm. "You are too proud, Thamaxar, believing in your victory to a fault."

"And if I am?" Thamaxar asked, an odd thrill beginning to flutter in his chest. "What will you do about it?"

"Many things," Thorpe growled - and Thamaxar grimaced as a force seized his body. The former knight's corruption had granted him abilities, it seemed - the ability to move things with his mind and at will. He was using it now, forcing Thamaxar to wrap his lips around that throbbing, ridged cock. Thorpe groaned at the warm cavern, the slick tongue, thrusting eagerly into the demon's mouth.

Thamaxar, on the other hand... His eyes glazed over at the taste of Thorpe's precum, his body shuddering with ecstasy at the mere prospect of more. He resisted at first, or attempted to do so - but it tasted so good, and he could feel every bit of the waves of lust emanating off of Thorpe. It was one of the downsides of being a demon of lust; not only could one affect those around them with it, they were also rather easily affected by the lust of those around them.

Normally, it wouldn't be a problem - but faced with a demon who had the combined power of a dragon and a human, it was a little less clear-cut.

It didn't help that Thorpe was good at what he did. His precum was filled with a faint hint of his magic, an exotic taste that made the demon shudder and want more; it filled him with a certain warmth, the same sort he felt when feeding on another creature's lust. It was tainted, however - filled with that hint of corruption that made the taste addictive, that made him want more without even realising it.

It wasn't until he heard the faint chuckle from Thorpe that Thamaxar realised the former knight had long released him from the magic holding him in place - he'd continued on his own, unwilling to stop. Unable, even; Thorpe tasted impossibly good, like darkness and power all at once...

Thamaxar knew this situation was wrong - that he was supposed to be the one in control, the one that got the knight to obey his whims. Thorpe was meant to be his pet. As the former knight lifted him off and bent him over the throne, however, the demon realised that he no longer cared.

Thorpe was the greater corruptive force in this situation, and this was the way things worked for demons - the stronger could take those weaker whenever and wherever they wanted. He moaned, then, as the metallic demon slowly pushed into his ass; his cock ached and throbbed, precum oozing onto the throne and dripping onto the ground, creating a tremendous mess.

"Not so simple anymore... Is it?" Thorpe's voice was a hiss against the back of his neck, and Thamaxar let out a shuddering groan. His back arched, his fingers clawed at the throne of stone.

"Just fuck me," Thamaxar growled, and Thorpe laughed. The sound echoed strangely in the chamber they were in. Claws traced gently along the demon's skin, teasing, and Thamaxar let out a groan of pleasure. "A-ah..."

"Aren't you supposed to be a lord of demons?" Thorpe's fingers gently knead the demon's ass, teasing - even as he forces himself further in and grinds into Thamaxar's passage. "Yet here you are, bending eagerly over for my cock, desperate to be fucked..."

Thamaxar growled and cursed, the language utterly unrecogniseable for a moment - demonic tongue, no doubt. He couldn't deny Thorpe's words, however. He couldn't even deny the thrill that ran through his body at the thought of no longer being in control. It wasn't his own desire, of course. It had been planted inside of him, an effect of Thorpe's corrupted visage and newfound lust - and Thamaxar knew.

He just didn't care.

The demon lord pushed back against Thorpe demandingly, and the metallic demon obliged with a low chuckle. His hips drew back for a moment, and his claws gripped on to the sides of the throne - and with that as leverage, Thorpe pounded in. His pace was unrelenting - rough, as truly befit a demon.

Thamaxar, on the other hand - his hand scrabbled for his cock, gripping eagerly around the base of his shaft and jerking himself off. He could feel Thorpe's corruption settling against him, knew he could fight, perhaps even should fight. There was something about the way the former knight's corruption had settled in his mind, however...

He didn't want to fight it.

The demon lord let out a shuddering moan as he felt Thorpe grind into him one final time, a loud growl as warm seed filled him, dripping out between his legs. It locked Thorpe's corruption into his mind - Thamaxar knew he would never be free of a yearning for him, now, and Khalmeth through him. Rider and dragon were linked, and the magic had linked him both to Thorpe's corrupted soul and Khalmeth's pure essence within him.

He would always have a desire for one or the other - to please them with his body, to serve them. It was with that thought that Thamaxar gave himself one final stroke, bringing himself to a shuddering orgasm - demonic seed spilled onto the stone below, spurt after spurt creating a small mess on the ground.

The two demons panted in the aftermath of their coupling. Thorpe pulled out slowly, and Thamaxar bit his lip at the feeling off loss and the sudden need that overwhelmed him. He turned himself back around and collapsed into his throne, panting softly.

"...It seems you have bested me," he admitted after a moment. The smile he offered was strangely genuine, and he had a feeling he knew why. Soul metaphysics was never something he'd been an expert in, but that single piece of Khalmeth's soul - the one that fought against the corruption endlessly - it seemed to be shared between the three of them, now. Even now, he knew the dragon was just outside, watching the two of them. "To turn my own magic against me... that was clever."

Thorpe smirked at him. He would never be free of the lust and desire that was now a part of his life - but without Thamaxar trying to enforce his will upon him and Khalmeth, the both of them found themselves strangely clear-headed. They knew where their loyalties lay - to the kingdom of Astronath - but they would simply be a little more... lustful. That was a chapter of their lives that could never be closed, after all.

On the plus side, they both had a demon lord as a pet to serve both their newfound needs.

"I must warn you, masters." Thamaxar glanced to both Khalmeth and to Thorpe, suppressing a brief shudder as a need rose up within him. "Astronath is not free from danger. I am far from the only demon lord attempting to make a rise in this world."

Khalmeth chuckled, speaking through Thorpe. "Let them come," he said. "And let them learn what it is to face us all."