The Taming of Temeraire Pt. 02

This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.

All work is fiction intended for fantasy only, regardless of content, and consent must always be acquired when engaging in any sex act with another adult.

Please note that all characters are clearly over eighteen and written as such in all stories.

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Temeraire travelled all the way down to the Welsh mountains, though the steeds pulling his cart were changed out at strategic points, time of the essence to transport the newest breeder drake to the breeding facility. In the Black Mountains of Wales, the land towered around him as it had in Scotland and yet boasted a distinctly different feel to it, despite the topography of the ground being somewhat the same.

There was no crisp waft of sea air to tickle his senses as he was taken into the stables, after being allowed to rest in a human-made cave, suited to a dragon of his size, the first day. It seemed that his training to be a breeder, a sex slave, was continuing at a pace and Temeraire would have stumbled eagerly into it, if he had been free to do so. Truth be told, he could barely remember a time where he had not been in some kind of bondage, even if it was just his wings or a muzzle or perhaps even a tail "stock", where he would have to keep it rigidly out behind him, losing a little of his balance. It would have been unnatural for him, after all that time, to not be in bondage, even if, of course, he needed to be exercised every day.

He moaned, the soft light of the stable comforting to him, hay and straw and other easily acquired bedding materials tickling at his nostrils while dust motes swirled in shafts of sunshine. Of course, the double doors at the far end of the indoor barn type stables were flung open, for it was more of an area for dragons to be used and tested than somewhere for them to rest, though Temeraire did not mind that.

"Celestial dragon milking, session one," his attendant read from a sheet, her lips pressed together. "This should be adequate, to test his output."

Temeraire's muzzle rippled slightly, though he obediently held himself still as they locked him down on his haunches. His leather harness had been replaced with a newer, shinier one that still needed to be worn in, though it seemed to have more straps and the like for attachments around his groin, which he liked, along with the extra under his tail. It had the added effect with a crupper under the root of his tail of forcing him to keep his tail lifted at all times, as if the dragon was always presenting and ready to be used, to breed, to be bred. It didn't matter.

Sitting up, his head and neck were collared and tied to the wall, the dragon denied any freedom of movement with which he could wrench himself free. He growled softly, eyes falling half-lidded, his lungs expanding with deeper, headier breaths. His cock protruded out through the hole in his new harness, though it had not been tightened adequately as yet to stop his shaft from retreated up into his body. His testes were held internally, but when it came to torturing dragons for breeding pleasure and purposes, that was not going to be a problem at all for the staff at the facility.

The woman... Oh, he didn't need to know her name, for she could be one in a sea of faces and voices, his wings in a long binder, his body obliging. She handled his cock like a seasoned professional, massaging his length, though there was no lust in the domination from her side.

"Does the dirty Imperial whore want to cum?" She crooned, eyes darkening, knowing her job well as Temeraire squirmed in place. "I think you do... I think you're a filthy beast who's not worth licking off a Greyling's claws. But I think you would do it anyway, because you're so low, because all you need is to serve, to show everyone what a slut you are."

Rapping him on the nose with a short length of cane, not hard enough to hurt only to draw the dragon to attention, she growled.

"So, tell me what you are!"

Oh, Temeraire tried, he really did, but it was hard to focus on anything else but how good her hand felt on his cock, his shaft aching and pulsing. He had not been permitted to orgasm for the whole trip there and not met any dragons that could have forced one from him at the facility either, which was to his detriment. Yet the dragon was to learn that having an orgasm, or being denied one, was not the be-all and end-all of everything.

But Temeraire did not have to worry about it, controlled and used. He muttered and stammered how worthless he was, delicious submissiveness swimming through his head, a cloying, heavy headiness that dragged him down and down and down. He didn't need to be strong, he didn't need to be powerful -- not when he was already so weak, so helpless, simpering and serving, all when it came to the might of other dragons against him.

Yet the rush of pleasure as orgasm burst from him had him shuddering, spewing and spending his wasted seed over the floor of the stables, his brow furrowing ever so slightly. It did not feel right for a breeding facility, if they were to use his sperm and make him a sex slave, yet that was just another moment in which Temeraire was out of place in letting his mind wander away from him.

A slave like him... Oh, they did not need to think. They did not need to consider. They only needed to exist, they only needed to be used. And he would serve that purpose finely, once they had broken that chain of curious thought from his mind, replacing it with a slavering, drooling desire to serve and only to serve.

His cock ached, but his trainer used the space under his tail to push a plug into him that felt rather softer than what he was used to. The dragon drooled openly, saliva streaming from the corners of his lips, the leather around the base of his cock tightened so that pressure was put on his internally held testes while also not allowing his cock to slide back inside him.

"Dirty whore... We shall show the entire British Isles and beyond how far the Celestial dragons have fallen," she taunted him, playing into his deepest, dirtiest fantasies of humiliation. "Everyone will see you, your cock out, how you have allowed your body to be used and broken, turned into nothing more than a sex slave. Our power over dragons is absolute and they will all know your name as the debased Imperial, the cur from another land that is better off with its head shoved under another dragon's tail than free to use its own mind."

It. Even then, Temeraire could not help but adore how she referred to him, though he was not alone there. Even though he was set in a section of the stables where he could not see other dragons, an open door wide enough for a Regal Copper, the largest in the country, to pass through right in front of him, he could still hear them. Though it seemed that other dragons were not as eager as he was for their training, moans twisting through with sharp cries.

"Nooooo!"

"I can't... No..." The dragon's cry, disembodied from another section of the indoor barn, panted heavily, as if they could barely draw breath, let alone call words to their lips. "I can't...do more... Please..."

Others begged for release, the centre ramping up for the day, for he was far from the only dragon to be trained and housed there, even if it was obvious that Temeraire was, by far, the happiest. Most dragons came around to such a way of living and training in the end, of course, but it was the training protocols and systems that were the most stringent for so many. Once a breeder was trained and compliant, it was far easier for human handlers to make use of them, setting them to drakes or dragonesses or even partners of the same sexes, where sexual satisfaction and health were required.

He had heard, on his travels there, another orgasm stolen from him as the thick toy under his tail inflated, the trainer using a foot pump to make it larger and larger, that handlers often relieved their dragons on the wing, when flying, too. It seemed a bit superfluous to him when dragons could be handled and used just as well in a breeding or training facility, but, even then, Temeraire could not be expected to truly know and understand the ways of the world.

Yet two orgasms were a lot for him to take, even then, need coursing and curling through him. He groaned and tried to stomp a foot, but did not hold back in the slightest, letting it all happen. That did not mean it was not a strain, however, as the inflating plug, what his trainer called it, at least, in his anal passage, pressed up wantonly against his prostate.

"Huff... Ohhh..."

The pleasure could not be held back as he was pushed and milked, her hands sliding up and down his cock, using his seed to lubricate his length. It had been a while indeed since Temeraire had had a human bring him to orgasm like that, though the drake did not mind the difference in it, the difference in having a human who handled him like an animal against the dragons who merely used him. They took their pleasure, with him, when they dominated or simply used him for sexual pleasure, but there was less of that with a human.

It was all taming, all training, his cock aching, too sensitive as he was forced into a third orgasm, something tightening in the pit of his stomach, abdominal muscles contracting tightly. He moaned, jaws hanging open, but his trainer was quick to make use of that, slotting in a hollow pole for him to suck on, though to call it a dildo would have been a far cry, a push beyond what it actually was. But it being hollow and strapped on and around his head, tightly, allowed her to feed him a pureed concoction of plants, native to the country and other more exotic varieties, intended to increase a dragon's virility and sex drive.

Of course, they had not had the chance to try them out on a dragon as slutty and as submissive as Temeraire was, let alone a Celestial, but that was a part of the training that was especially enjoyable: the experimentation.

He drooled, losing track of all that was happening around him, grunting and moaning around the gag as his trainer called him names, making his guts lurch and twist, even as Temeraire tried to form words in return. Oh, he wanted to tell her that she was right, so very right, that he was nothing more than a worthless Imperial whore, the lowest and dirtiest of all dragons, that he didn't even deserve to walk around with clean scales and claws. Alas, the gag prevented him from saying anything as two more orgasms were squeezed from him, Temeraire's pupils dilated with the strain of it all.

"Mmmph! Mmhhmmhhmm... Mmmmmph..."

His trainer raised an eyebrow, preparing two items: a large, dragon masturbatory aid and a thicker, flared dildo that would slot up under his tail in place of the plug.

"Is there something you want to say? Is it about how you're a dirty cock licker, moaning for dragon shafts? Perhaps you should please a dragoness instead, let them grind on you, your face stained with their juices. Then and only then, wearing their honey as your dirty shame, would you be dressed to go out in public, all while everyone knows you are a slave, that your station in life is being under their boot and certainly no higher than that."

He groaned, shuddering through another climax, chewing on the gag, for Temeraire could not help clamping his jaws down.

It was too much, so much too much. He was forced to sit onto the largest toy that he had ever had driven inside him, his anal ring strained to what he thought was his limit, eyes streaming with moisture. Still, the drake would not have had it any other way, not as the pleasure of his orgasms blistered into pain, the line of over sensitivity long crossed. There was no going back to pure pleasure, not without rest, not when she would not allow him such a thing.

He drifted in and out of his own broken, twisted reality, the cries and begging of other dragons floating back and forth. Dimly, he was aware of a Greyling hauled past his open doors, forced onward by a Grey Copper that had a decidedly wicked look in their eye. The Greyling squealed and thrashed and shook their head, hopping along where they had been hobbled, yet their training was surely going to be even more intense for their denial and acceptance of the methods used.

Temeraire trembled. He didn't know why anyone would resist. But they had said he was deeply submissive, more so than they had ever seen in any other dragon. Maybe that set him apart, but it was not a thought that the Celestial wanted to spend much time on, sucking and tongue the hard pole in his maw longingly. Maybe one of the other dragons would be brought in to use him, for he wished that it was a real cock stretching his maw wide, so very wide... Every dragon that he caught sight of was in bondage, however, but some to varying extents.

He hoped that he would not be out of his bondage too much. It was too much of a security for the dragon to willingly give up what he felt that he, personally, had worked hard for.

And yet his cock was still hard, leaking a clear stream of cum while his anal passage was worked over. The fat dildo had been swapped for one that had some kind of vibrating feature, hooked up to the facility itself as if it was powered by... The dragon's eyelids fell heavily again, pain-pleasure aching through him. Maybe they were the same. Maybe he did not need to know how the vibrating, roughly, crudely pulsing toy worked. Maybe all he needed to do was to let them use him.

He did not give in, for there was nothing to give into, not when he was already right where he knew he was supposed to be, forever and always. He lost track of his orgasms, trying to hang his jaws open to release excess heat from his body, scales itching and aching, muscles straining. One in his haunches had to have been pulled, but he did not care, not in that moment, not as more and more cum was drawn from him, the deep ache in the pit of his belly searing through.

He knew it was right, that he was already where he was meant to be. The beauty of submission meant that he didn't have to fight it either, going along with everything, and the only training that they needed to impart on him was how he could serve and be a sex slave, not breaking him down into the mindset where other dragons, not all, rebelled.

"Dirty Imperial... What a load of wasted cum, all so dirty, filthy... We'll use it, mark my words, but you will clean this load off the floor with your tongue. It's not even fit to sink into a mop, to be swilled down into the river."

He groaned, shuddering through yet another pained climax, his back aching. How long had he been in there? Where the outside light was coming from, filtering in through windows in the roof of the stables, had changed, but he didn't need to think about that. He bucked and strained, finding that custom-fitted leather bondage had been slotted over his hind legs, binding his thigh to his cannon bone where he had sat up on his haunches, making it so he could only wriggle, weakly, back and forth. His trainer, on a small ladder, attached a posture collar, at that very moment, down the full length of his neck, further restricting his range of motion there, so that they could not even flex from one side to the other.

"Many more coming, filthy dragon whore," she advised him with a roll of her eyes, feeding more of the mix into the tub of the hollow pole in his maw. "Drink it up now, you have hours upon hours left in here."

And he didn't mind that, not at all, warmth returning to his cock, even if it was not a true kind of pleasure, not something that Temeraire, quite honestly, might have chosen for himself. There was no dragon alive, he was sure, who would have chosen denial, as good as it felt, for they were but simple beasts, seeking out quick, repeated pleasure -- but only to the point that their bodies enjoyed it. When he was taken willingly far beyond that point, denied the ability to do anything about it, it was then that the deeper satisfaction of submissive curled through.

Eventually, not even Temeraire could keep climaxing, cumming dry, his cock twitching and flexing and his tail hole clamping down on the vibrating, pulsing toy...but no more than that. There was simply no more at all left for his body to give, weakly gasping and heaving through sharply flared nostrils, though not even Temeraire expected a kind hand or a comforting touch to come. That was not needed for a dragon like him, despite everything, even if he would, most likely, spend the rest of his life at the breeding facility.

Of course, that was what the dragon anticipated would happen, what his mind fed him, broken in sweet submission, the drake's legs wobbly and shaky as he was let down and loose from his bondage, only so he could be returned to his hewn-out cave quarters. Being free in there was not something he expected, but it looked like they pretty much allowed the dragons to have free reign with some equipment and their autonomy when they were not engaged in training and taming sessions. It was like where Temeraire had come from, though being without any bondage at all disconcerted him.

Late that night, when the moon was high in the sky and the stars twinkling above, Temeraire raised his head, scenting the air. He was suddenly awake, his tail snaking back and forth anxiously across the cave floor, somewhat recovered from his ordeal, though the dragon did not see it like that at all.

"Who's there?"

It didn't feel right for him to challenge anyone, not as he quivered there, suppressing the need to see if it was a dragon who needed him to service them, so broken down and sweetly submissive that it would have been criminal indeed to deny the dragon what he so sorely needed. A flash of copper snaked by the entrance to the cave, resplendent in gleams of burnished red and gold, and Temeraire's heart surged, practically scrabbling out into the open.

"Hello?" He panted heavily, cock out and twitching, drooling pre-cum already, even though it was less than he would have normally, considering how many orgasms he had been put through the day before. "Do you...need me? I'm here... I'm a dirty Imperial, here to serve..."

A group of Regal Coppers, large and powerful dragons native to the British Isles, loomed, though he was not all that much smaller than them -- it only felt like that when he was in his naturally submissive state of mind. The dragons licked their lips as they towered, drawing themselves up dominantly tall, even Temeraire a little cowed by them.

He grunted and shook his head, glancing back at his cave. Maybe he could use a bit more of a rest, even though he would normally have submitted instantly. Yet the drake had already made the biggest mistake by allowing them to call him out there, simply by heed of their presence alone.

"I think you can..." A female of the group stepped forward, though he would not learn her name until many weeks later. "I have a group of drakes here, fine studs...but they don't have a slut to fill with their cocks. And I hear you're just the dirty whore they need!"

Temeraire gasped, weak in his legs at being called such a name so swiftly and easily, as if it came as naturally to them to dominate as it did to him to be submissive, but it was too late for second thoughts. For his weak-willed, submissive mind had already led him into the figurative viper's nest, the dragons all lunging for him at once, two females and four males, bodies twisting and writhing, snarls breaking from fearsome jaws.

The Royal Copper dragons were better used to subduing others than Temeraire was in struggling to break free, but it was hard for his head not to swim as one slammed him down on his back, his head spinning, aching.