He teaches you exactly who is in charge.

You breath a sigh of relief (quietly) when, after a horribly long pause, he releases you, and strides over to your armchair. He seats himself in it, with one leg crossed over the other, and rests his chin on his hand. "Strip."

You don't need to be told twice. Timidly you stand, and despite a glower of obvious disdain he shoots you now that you're 'looking down' on him again, he doesn't interrupt. For a moment, you wonder whether he meant to 'strip', or to put on a 'strip-tease', but given his introduction and the overall mood of the room, you decide not to invite trouble by reading too deeply into his command, assuring yourself that if you're doing something wrong, he will make sure you know about it. Despite your vulnerability and uncertainty (or perhaps in part because of it), you feel the blood rushing to your nether-region, and a familiar pressure begins to build.

Slowly, you remove your top, and your vest, tossing them onto the nearby sofa. His eyes scan across your chest, and linger there, but otherwise he betrays no emotion. After you're barefoot and have begun to remove your trousers, however, your arousal becomes readily apparent to him, and his teeth glint in a cruel grin. He seems very pleased by your 'involuntary' reaction to the compromising and oppressive situation he's placed you in, but for the time being, he seems to spare you any snide comments, content to watch in silence as you expose yourself (literally and psychologically, it could be said) on his command.

A few more seconds pass, and you're standing before him, fully naked. You flush, unavoidably, as his eyes wander indifferently across your body, and come to rest on your manhood (which is rock-hard and has even begun twitching, your body betraying exactly what feelings his judgemental gaze elicits in you). He raises an eyebrow, seemingly appraising your genitals, before cocking his head with a smirk and audibly scoffing. Your face feels like it's on fire. Self-conscious like at no other time in your life, you half-heartedly attempt to cross your hands without it looking too much like you're trying to cover yourself up, yet he sees right through your transparent ploy. "Now... Kneel."

You do so, and make a good-will effort to gaze into his eyes with a neutral expression of compliance... But can't hold it for long before you have to look off to one side. "Now bend over. Hands and knees." You carry out his requests without resistance, positioning yourself as he pleases. Your cock-head bobs against your abdomen, still as stiff as can be, and by the sticky sensation below your belly button, you deduce that you are already leaking a small amount of pre-cum, from your treatment alone. You look at the rug, and for a few moments you try to work out in your head whether you wish he would hurry up with whatever he's got in mind so that this unbearable humiliation could end... Or whether you really are enjoying the fact that he seems to be dragging this out as long as possible, just to watch you squirm.

You hear the armchair creak as he rises to his feet, and he speaks again. "Ahem. Eyes forward, if you so please." It's obvious from his intonation that he realises how much you're struggling simply to look at him throughout all of this... Although you're not sure whether the way he accentuated the 'please' is intended simply for emphasis, or to highlight your painfully-obvious arousal. You glance up for a moment before looking directly ahead, openly ashamed but deliberately compliant, and find that he's smiling down at you, slyly. You think that's a good thing. In any case, you're grateful that he's not projecting pure hatred, or physically threatening you any more. You have a strong suspicion that he's actually much more pleased to have made the discovery that his 'captive' is a sexual submissive than he's letting on, since now you both know that he's got a very good chance of pushing this 'power game' to whatever extremes he wishes to- even if he's not saying anything of the like out loud. He doesn't need to.

By way of confirmation, he undoes a buckle around his waist, adjusts his outfit for a moment, and his ten-inch rod flops out, already half-hard. It's no coincidence that your head is currently almost perfectly at kobold-groin-height. You do your best not to react, although your elbows wobble for a moment, regardless. He takes the rapidly-hardening beast in his left hand, squeezing it gently, and steps forward, bringing the tip almost to the point of touching your lips. For your part, you concentrate on obeying his last order, but all along your back, you've already begun shivering.

You keep your lips tight and breath in through your nose, but this does the opposite of calming you down. His sexual odour, his genital musk, is overpowering at this distance. You detect the hint of something... Incendiary about it, like... A bonfire. Only, y'know, more unbearably erotic than that. It's difficult to describe, just like the way heat seems to be emanating from it, intense enough that you can feel your forehead beginning to dampen with the first droplets of sweat. You'd thought that kobolds would probably be cold-blooded. You're not sure if this was a groundless assumption on your part, or if it's got something to do with the dragon blood coursing through his veins and swelling his thick, fleshy member.

You remain frozen in this torturous circumstance for about half a minute, wondering what it is you're supposed to do. You can't risk asking, or looking up a second time for confirmation, but the end of his cock hanging scant centimetres from your dry lips seems like a pretty big fucking hint to you. So, slowly, you let your mouth open just a little (briefly pinching your lips inward to lick them before you can stop yourself). You take a few more shuddering breaths of scorching kobold cock-smell, and tentatively put your tongue out. When he doesn't seem to stop you, you give the underside a long, broad lick- and freeze, still connected to the taste of his flesh, when a fizzling from the palm of his right-hand accompanies the sudden appearance of a miniature fireball, which he holds out, just close enough to your head that you can feel the blistering heat prickling your skin, and smell the ends of a few errant strands of hair sizzle and curl up, burnt by the flames. Just a fraction of an inch closer, and you're toast. "Ah-ah-ah. Have you already forgotten my instructions? And my warning?"

You shut your mouth, grit your teeth and whimper. You clench your eyes shut, still able to see the glow and feel the intensity of the ready-to-fire inferno through your eyelids. You messed up! You really messed up! By your conduct, or by your very decision all those weeks ago to end up like this, you're doomed! You're an absolute failure, and you're going to pay the ultimate price for it. You try not to burst into tears of terror and shame and regret, but a few suppressed sobs **** up from your throat all the same, and a single tear rolls down your cheek and evaporates almost immediately. You sense the flickering light and the heat receding as he raises his hand up, and you wait for the inevitable end.

Instead, you flinch, shrinking back and yelping in surprise, eyes wide with shock, as he strikes you across the cheek with a sudden, meaty 'slap' from his cock. This cruel and demeaning anticlimax pushes you over the edge. Your arms and legs buckle beneath you, and you slump to the floor, a wretched mess. You gasp for breath in-between dry sobs of despair, and hide your face in your arms from whatever he has in store for you next- wrath, disgust, mockery, it doesn't matter. You're barely a quarter of an hour into your sad excuse for a new 'life', and nothing in your darkest imaginings and fantasies have prepared you for the reality. You're broken and disgraced, and you don't care if he knows it. You don't even care if he puts you out of your misery, or if he tortures you endlessly to whatever sick extent his powers can grant him. You're broken. You wished, you tried, and you don't have what it takes. You deserve whatever is coming your way next.

Though you're not prepared for what does come next. You feel his clawed hand stroke your hair gently, and hear him whisper and coo softly to you. "There, there. It's all right, pet." You look up at him, sniffling miserably, and he cups your cheek, brushing your chin and wiping away your tear with his clawed thumb. He still has the same look of aloofness and control, but he's... Smiling. Your misery, your initial scepticism and persistent fear begin to crumble away as you look into his yellow eyes, replaced instead by a wave of wave of relief and gratitude, and a rising feeling of tingling warmth in your chest that it dawns on you could only be...

He stands up again, cock still hard but flagging and bobbing slightly, and you kneel, looking up at him attentively with a complicated mix of confusion and contradictory emotions. "I am not a monster, pet. I am a king. I can still be a... Merciful ruler, but I require the utmost from my subjects. Your 'enthusiasm' is laudable- I see how you may be of use to me... I think I might be able to train you yet." He smiles again and shakes his head gently "... But do not try to anticipate my desires. You still have a long way to go." You smile back at him gratefully, lips still trembling, and nod to show your understanding. "Good boy. Now... Re-assume the position."

"Yes, Master!" You try your best to stifle the full extent of your glee, but follow his direction quickly, while your breathing finally returns to normal. Then you remember what he told you earlier. "... Thank you, Master." He smiles down at you, and the fuzzy feeling returns. Then he places one hand behind his back, and his face reverts to the same cold, indifferent expression as earlier. He grips your chin again, though more assertively this time. He turns your head one way and then the other, parts your lips as though checking your teeth, and makes some thoughtful noises like a farmer evaluating livestock for purchase.

"Surprisingly passable features, for a furless ape. Not as much character as a nice kobold boy, but... Well, we'll see." He releases his hold on you, and begins to pace casually around you. You maintain your forward-facing gaze and try to remain still, as you feel his eyes wandering over you. He strokes you from between your shoulder blades to the small of your back, not as a show of affection, but just to sample the texture of your skin. "Smooth. Soft. That's good, though again, all this... 'Skin' is a little... Bland." You feel him prodding your thighs and biceps with the side of his foot, but remain steady. "This freakish human... Height is going to be a problem. It might be useful for transporting goods, but in the... Long term? Tricky, tricky..." You blush more and more as you listen to his harsh appraisal of your body's worth, and his disparaging comments about your entire species. You can't help but start to feel all hot-and-bothered again. There are long pauses between his statements (which seem mostly to be him talking aloud to himself), so if he noticed, you have no idea what his reaction, if any, might be.

You let out a high-pitched 'Eep!' when he slaps your left ass-cheek, and have to work hard to prevent yourself from moaning as he takes a handful and begins squeezing and kneading it possessively, apathetic to your feelings or reactions. He sighs. "A shameful waste, really- I'll profess that I'm no expert on human biology, but you weren't exactly bred for that sort of work- I can see as much. And yet, cast aside, unfulfilled..." He plays with your ass a while longer, then caresses the outlines of your hips, muttering "... Certainly not the model of virility either, I noticed..." You feel something thick, firm, fleshy and hot placed along your ass-crack, and your head perks up.

"The gods can be cruel. Were you hatched in the warrens, your potential would have seen you taken aside early on, and lavishly prepared for..." He pauses, in thought "... Well, no, I wouldn't go that far, actually. You are still a common after all..." He begins to slide his cock up and down slowly between your cheeks. "But still; I have no doubt you would have been gifted to a division of strong hunters or loyal guardsbolds for their... Entertainment." You can't help but focus on the teasing sensation of his rod rubbing up and down against your asshole, and your breathing becomes slower and deeper. "... If not that, then at the very least you would have been sent into the deeper tunnels so that the miners would have something to play with in their downtime. It could get rather... Rough down there, without distraction."

He stops hot-dogging you and pauses, much to your dismay. "A wise ruler sees that hard, frustrating work is met with fair reward, and ample means for... Relieving stress." Suddenly, you feel him reach beneath you with his right hand, giving your erection one hard squeeze that causes you to squeak in unexpected pleasure. He chuckles darkly as he withdraws that hand and, with both of them, stretches your ample ass-cheeks apart. "... Of course in some cases, a very wise ruler knows how to spot a candidate for whom their calling would eventually hardly feel like 'work' at all. It takes time for them to learn that is their proper place, of course, but there's plenty of that to spare... Now then." You feel one hand removed from its place holding your ass apart, and he adjusts himself. You inhale sharply as you feel the tip pressing up against your entrance. This is it!

"I want to hear the truth from you. No lies, no matter how pleasing to my ears. I will know if you do." Somehow, you don't doubt it. "First of all, my stress-toy... You have never been bedded before, nor... (Pfft!)... Bedded anyone before, now have you?"

His question, not to mention the way he asked it, feels like a blow to the back of the head. You don't hesitate, however: "N-No, my lord."

You hear a throaty rumble of self-satisfaction from behind you. "As I thought. It is just as well. If I really must lower myself to the level of satiating my divine lusts upon the body of a... Human... Then I could only do so with the consolation of knowing that no number of filthy apes had come before me in doing so. I will accept your virtue, ****... However little it is worth to me."

"Th-Thank you, sir!" You surprise yourself that time, blurting out your appreciation before even thinking about it. You wander how much in yourself has changed over the course of this short evening, but at least Lord Dragontail sounds pleased by your outburst.

"Mmm. You're welcome." He pushes against you, and your sphincter just starts to yield to the imposing width of his warm implement... And then he stops. "... However, that was the first question. I have another, equally important to know. And remember- only the truth may pass your lips." You nod frantically- whatever it is, however dark and shameful or embarrassing, you'll tell him. "Good. Here it is, then..." He leans forward a little, hands back on your hips, and whispers: "Do you want me to ?"

That's it? Didn't you do this one already? "Y-Yes. Yes, please, my lord." You wait, and... Nothing.

"Hm. Well, you sound sincere, but... I'm still not convinced." He pulls back his cock, and on instinct, you whine needily and attempt to push back a little, though his grip on your waist holds you firm. "Perhaps you need to work on your delivery." Your delivery?! What does he mean? You stammer quietly a moment, and repeat yourself, with feeling this time, but to no avail. Finally, in a matter-of-fact tone, he gives you your hint: "Beg me for it."

So that's his game. Well, you'll show him just how little self-respect you really have!

"My lord, please, please fu-fuck me! I need it! Let me be the vessel for your release- It's all I'm good for, I'm... I'm nothing otherwise."

He hums, as if thinking it over. "Hmph. Not good enough." You panic inwardly as his grip on your body lessens. Not good enough? What more is there?! Then it hits you!

You let your arms slump beneath you, leaving your hindquarters raised, presented for him. "M-Master! I beg you! I'm filth, I'm worthless, but please, please let my degenerate, fleshy form at least provide pleasure for a superior, royal, dragon-cock like yours!" His hands clamp down again, his claws digging in far enough to scratch you, but you don't care. His cock is pressed up insistently against your asshole once more, and you could swear that Lord Dragontail himself has begun breathing heavily.

"Oh? Heh... Tell me... Tell me more."

You've got his number, now. He's already trained you better than he even realized. "I desperately need what I don't deserve to have... You're right! I'm a lanky, disgusting, hairless ape... You were absolutely right... I could only dream of being passed around a camp of strong kobold hunters like a piece of meat for them to use and then throw away..." His tip has slipped inside! You don't know if he did it on purpose, to encourage you, or if he couldn't help it!

"Fff... Oh, Tiamat... More. Keep talking, whelp." You're more than happy to oblige!

"I'd die for the chance to be thrown to a h-horde of angry, sweating kobold miners, and pumped full of commoner kobold sperm all hours of the day, in the cold and the dark... It would be a- ah!- a blessing..."

"Hgh... Hgh... And?"

"B-But I can't! I'm not a kobold, and I don't deserve to be! A-And I'm not in the warrens, I'm here... And... And... P-Please! Just this once, let me be a toy for a royal, half-dragon sorcerer... For a descendant of Tiamat! A... A god!"

As he hears you referring to him in those terms, he growls throatily, and when he hears you compare him to the dragon-goddess herself, he throws himself on top of you, sinking all ten inches of his burning meat into you, completely unconcerned for anything but inflicting the raging lust you've roused in him upon your submissive and helpless body. From somewhere around the center of your back, you hear him grumble through gritted teeth: "Grrr... Granted!"