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“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the Copper King himself,” Xornoth’s voice drifted down to the sands below. Pixlriffs stiffened at his voice, then slowly settled the last candle onto the Vigil. He lit it quietly, whispering some words as he did so, fully ignoring the demon sitting above. At least, it seemed like the demon was content with watching him, for now. He was still quiet when Pix finally lifted his crowned head up and directed his glare at the horned creature.
“Long time, no see,” the demon continued, kicking a foot out. Pix watched the demon’s heel crack back into the sandstone. He swallowed his anger as he met Xornoth’s gaze again.
“I would ask ‘to what do I owe the pleasure to’ of your visit,” Pixlriffs started smoothly, unimpressed with the demon’s very presence in his lands. “But you and I both know there’s no pleasure here.” His words ended harder than he meant them to. It was because of this demon, and the part he played in its release, that left him wandering the desert for weeks. Alone, unable to face the stares of his kingdom. Unable to face the knowledge of the crimes he had committed for what he once believed was the correct decision. Surely, he could be forgiven of any harshness he directed Xornoth’s way.
“Oh, I simply came by here to see what you thought of my… additions to your empire,” Xornoth replied. The demon had an odd way of speaking, Pixlriffs noticed, now that he could actually see him speak. He spoke with all his teeth bared, his lips barely hiding the maw of fangs and spikes that lined his mouth. Truly, he was a demon from another plane. The demon gestured out towards the curling, coiling tentacles that circled Pixandria. He could hear their movement from here, and dread curled like hot tar in his guts.
Nevertheless, he had a question to answer, and he found that he didn’t particularly like letting the demon have the last word. “I was thinking of ways that I could tear them out of the sand. Like plucking weeds from a garden. Just–pop!” Pix acted out the gesture, pretending to pluck out one of the tentacles. Xornoth’s smile drifted down until his glare matched the Copper King’s own.
The two of them glared at each other, the dark, crackling storm above not lessening the dread in Pix’s guts anytime soon. Eventually, the silence was broken by an exhale from the demon’s mouth. He dropped down from his perch, his claws clicking across the bricks where he landed. He rose to his full height, a full head taller than Pix. The horns rose even higher than that. They twisted up and up, almost seeming to curl like the twisting tentacles in the distance. Pix straightened as he approached, his gaze fixated on Xornoth’s burning pits. The demon stopped a few inches from him, and curiously, Pix realized there were actually pupils in those eyes of his. Slightly lighter than the rest of the glowing red, and definitely looking him up and down.
Pixlriffs felt oddly exposed when those eyes flicked towards him, studying him. Like a particularly interesting insect, curious, but ultimately only interested enough for a brief moment. Pix found himself wondering how long it would be before Xornoth tried to crush him under his heel.
“I did come here for another reason,” Xornoth said, his voice echoing around them. A long, tar-black tongue flicked around his teeth; Pix’s eyes were drawn to the movement. The tongue teased out past his lips, the fork of it becoming clear the longer Pix looked at it. Suddenly, a clawed hand cupped his cheek and Pix froze. His eyes widened as he realized he had started to lean forward to get a closer look, inexplicably bringing himself closer to the demon. Xornoth’s chuckle rumbled out of him, and that almost-tender gesture trailed needle-sharp claws down his cheek. They teased the vulnerable length of his throat, until they came to rest under his chin, tilting his head up so all he could look at was Xornoth’s eyes.
“Looks like you might already be interested in it too,” Xornoth chuckled darkly. Pixlriffs jerked out of his grip and stumbled back. He forced space between the two of them, his chest heaving as he watched Xornoth’s grin return. The demon didn’t try to reclaim the space. Instead, he lowered his hands and tucked them behind his back. “I am here to see if the great Copper King will kneel to the rightful ruler of this world.”
“Then I guess you’re going to be sorely disappointed,” Pix replied, breathing sharply through his teeth. “The Copper King kneels for no one.”
Above, the sky darkened. The shadows grew dark around him, encircling him as Xornoth continued to stare. “Oh,” he said, his voice rumbling through the very ground as he took a single step closer. “I think you will.” The winds shifted, throwing Xornoth’s voice at him from a new angle. “Kneel.”
The word slammed into Pix’s skull, the command unlike anything he had ever experienced. His body nearly gave in, nearly crumpled to the ground like an obedient slave to its master. With a growl, Pixlriffs planted his will into his feet and forced his own control back into his body. His body trembled as his mind fought against Xornoth’s, slowly pushing himself back up into a strong, willful stance. When Pix threw his gaze back at the demon, he expected to see frustration or rage at his defiance. What he found instead was delight.
And a ravenous hunger.
“Look at you,” Xornoth rasped, breathless from his own fight. “Your will is far stronger than any of the other pitiful empires I’ve conquered.” He stepped closer and closer. The power of his will lashed around Pixlriffs, heavy enough that it felt tangible. It felt like if he reached out, it would cut off his hand. Xornoth grinned down at him, his eyes blazing with desire. “But not strong enough. Now,” he growled, his voice low and thundering. “Kneel!”
The Copper King dropped; his legs and his will gave out. Pixlriffs swore as his knees cracked into the sandworn bricks, sharp pain shooting through his spine. He tried to move his body, tried to get up–! And he found he couldn’t. He couldn’t move. He could barely make his fingers curl into fists. He could barely even raise his head. Clawed fingers sank into the mess of his hair, carding through its length. Claws traced the length of his throat, only to twitch upwards. His crown clanged against the ground; the sound echoed through the roads and the alleys of Pixandria, making one thing clear.
The Copper King knelt before the Champion of Exor, Xornoth.
“There you go,” Xornoth praised. His fingers ran through Pix’s hair again. At first, those fingers were gentle, almost tender. Then, in an instant, his grip tightened. Pix’s head was forced back, forced to look up at the demon. Magic pinned him down against his will. He was being made to kneel; it was that thought alone that might have made the next few events bearable.
“You look good on your knees, Copper King. I think I might keep you there.” Xornoth’s fingers pulled out of his hair, gesturing near his mouth. Pix felt the stranglehold on his body lessen around his mouth; he tried to not think about the implications of that. “What do you think? Do you want to become someone actually worth something?” A thumb traced the line of his mouth, forcing his lips to part open. If he had enough strength to, he’d snap at that thumb and bite it clean through. “I think you’d make a good whore. You speak very well, but I have a couple other ideas for what your mouth could be useful for.”
Disgust bled through his veins at Xornoth’s words. And shame soon followed through; his cock twitched at both the praise and the humiliation. The blatant dehumanization right to his face sent a jolt of arousal straight to his core. And, of course, Xornoth noticed.
“Oh, you were made to be a whore for me,” the demon chuckled as he nudged his foot against Pix’s growing erection. Whatever spell had been cast on him, it was a blessing that he couldn’t even move to grind down on that delicious friction. He would not debase himself for this creature. But… maybe if he could move his mouth…
He let the saliva build up in his mouth. Then, with as much will he could muster back into his unresponsive body, he hissed at Xornoth, “Fuck. You.” Pixlriffs spat at Xornoth’s feet. The demon’s grip tightened briefly in Pix’s hair, then slipped out. Victory surged in his chest.
CRACK!
Pix’s head snapped to the side. The sound from the slap seemed to echo in the otherwise silent road. And then the burning started. The slap didn’t sting; it wasn’t just a harsh crack of a palm against a cheek. No, this… this burned. It burned like a brand across his flesh, the pain searing into the depths of his brain. And for the first time that day, the first time since the demon broke free of the End, Pixlriffs felt pure fear freeze him in place.
“Dirty mouth you have there,” Xornoth growled, his hand grabbing Pixlriffs’ jaw roughly. His grip was so tight that Pix felt his jaw creak. A wordless gasp slipped from his parted lips. He would refuse to beg for as long as he possibly could, but the slap across his cheek was still burning! His eyes closed as his breath hitched. Pain was something he could take, if the lead up to that pain was worth it. Here, there was no lead up, no excitement. Just dread welling up inside him until he felt like he was choking on it. “I’ll make sure to cleanse that mortal filth.”
Xornoth turned his head, his grip tight in Pix’s hair as he inspected him. His throat was bared to the demon, and he felt those long, sharp claws trail up its length. When fingers and a palm replaced the trailing tips, Pix’s eyes snapped open. Xornoth was close to his face, his hand wrapping nearly completely around his throat. Reflexively, he swallowed; the demon’s hand pressed harder on his windpipe. “You look so good like this, Copper King. I’d like to keep you on your knees, right where you belong.” The hand moved away and Xornoth yanked hard on Pix’s hair. He cried out, the pain causing tears to drip from the corners of his eyes.
Pix blinked past the tears, his eyes catching on another movement. Xornoth’s free hand moved to his stomach, sliding down until– He didn’t realize it before, but Pix realized now that Xornoth was fully naked. Not just wearing some dark clothes that clung to his body like a second skin, but that was his skin. Hard and armored in most places, but Pix could see the outline of soft joints and the slits in his skin that gave way to the glowing red and magenta of his insides. He watched, almost transfixed (if not for the lingering pain in his skull from being held up by his hair) as one of Xornoth’s fingers pressed against his pelvis. A little bit of pressure, and then the finger pushed through. In the darkness that surrounded them, the hint of magenta behind that slit lit up Pix’s world. Xornoth groaned, his great horned head tilting back as his finger curled.
It didn’t look like Xornoth was pleasuring himself, but instead it looked like he was coaxing something out. The grip in his hair tightened. Xornoth’s breath hitched, and before Pix could question what was happening before him, all that color and light was devoured into darkness again. Like cracking open a door a ravager pushed against, something thick and black and as long as Pix’s forearm forced through the opening of Xornoth’s slit. Pix reared back in shock, held in place by the demon’s grip on his will. The Copper King’s eyes flicked up to Xornoth’s glowing gaze. One large hand wrapped around the thing’s girth, sliding forward down to its tapered tip. Xornoth moaned, his gaze fixated on Pix, and the Copper King suddenly realized exactly what he was looking at.
A cock, but unlike one he had ever really seen before. Thick and coated with some kind of slick that glowed and shimmered like the demon’s insides. The tentacle twisted between Xornoth’s fingers and ridges flared up with his arousal; they were bright points of light on an otherwise dark, curling background. The grip in his hair yanked him forward, forcing his face to press into that coiling mass of flesh. If he could move, Pix didn’t think he could repress the shudder of disgust as the bulge snaked its way over his face, coating his skin with slick.
Pix tried to keep his mouth closed. His mouth had been freed of the magic holding him still, and he clenched his teeth tight behind his lips. But wherever the bulge twisted against, wherever the slick dripped against his skin, it burned. It burned like hot wax dripping across twitching skin, and eventually his mouth parted to gasp his pain. The bulge surged forward, forcing itself past his parted lips. He tried to bite down on the intruding appendage, but Xornoth yanked hard on his hair again. Pix cried out, then gagged as the bulge forced its way down his throat. His throat spasmed weakly around the muscle, his reflexes fighting to purge the thing that shouldn’t be there out, only to find that he couldn’t. Xornoth’s magic wove into his muscles, holding him still as the demon used him as he was wont to.
"Good," Xornoth praised as his cock pushed and twisted, bulging obscenely inside his throat. It felt like it reached all the way to his stomach! The bulge moved as if it had a mind of its own with its main goal of cutting off every precious breath he had left in his lungs. He tried to pull back, to resist the use of his body as his vision began to fade into darkness. His throat spasmed weakly, yet another pathetic attempt to save himself from this fate.
Suddenly, Xornoth dragged his head back. The tentacle slid up out of his throat. It was a horrible feeling, the ridges repeatedly catching and releasing against the lining of his esophagus. His throat burned with the slickness that lingered no matter how much he swallowed and gagged. The tapered end finally slid off his tongue, a thick string of slick and saliva connecting Pix to Xornoth's cock. For a brief moment, that's all he was: another hole meant to hold and warm the demon's cock.
In the next moment, Pix keeled over and heaved out bile and the contents of his stomach onto the road.
"Don't try to fight your true purpose, Copper King," Xornoth chuckled darkly. "You kneel before me, you've shown me that you're willing and able to take my bulge, and yet you think you're still worth enough to resist me?" Xornoth forced his tear-stricken face to tilt up towards him, like he was his god and Pixlriffs was a lowly servant. The demon’s claws wiped at the tears on his face and Pix gasped as pain bloomed across his skin. Blood dripped from the new wounds, but he couldn’t bear to close his eyes. His cheek burned from where his ma–where Xornoth slapped him. His throat burned with bile and the slick that barely soothed it. His face burned as salty tears trickled into the slice under his eye.
“You must understand, Copper King,” Xornoth continued. “You’re worth nothing to me. You’re not the strongest empire here. You have no army; you have nothing but corrosion and ruin. Nothing but a single candle bearing the weight of your sins. Not even you can stand against me.” He grabbed Pixlriffs’ face and closed the distance between their faces. “You’re nothing to me,” he snarled. His glare softened and he let Pix’s face go. Pix slumped back to his knees; the weight of Xornoth’s words settling into his weakened mind.
“Don’t you see, Copper King?” he asked, his fingers dragging through his hair again. “I’m giving you worth. By making you into my whore, you now have worth that you didn’t have before. I think the least you can do is to thank me.” His grip tightened and he forced his bulge into Pix’s throat again. It went down easier this time. All Pix had to do was give into his master– Give into Xornoth’s– No, he couldn’t! He couldn’t just give in!
Pixlriffs tried to fight it. He tried to fight against the demon’s will! He tried, but each time he pushed back, there was Xornoth’s bulge down his throat. There was his hand in his hair, controlling how much air he got, how much his vision darkened, how much his throat ached as it was stretched beyond its limits. He swallowed around Xornoth’s girth, his mind growing hazy with the burning down the length of his throat. His eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion wracking his body. He was hard and needy and his master still only used his throat. He wasn’t allowed rest; he wasn’t allowed reprieve. He was only used.
It felt like hours passed before Pix woke up again. He felt like he was floating, his master’s cock the only thing grounding him to this place. His breath barely hitched as his master’s bulge forced itself down his raw throat. His master’s moan was loud as he came again, his genetic material flowing down into his stomach.
This was all he was meant for. The Copper King’s crown sat abandoned in the road, its owner now eagerly sucking down the writhing length that had become his whole world. He was nothing without his master using him. He was worth nothing to the world he knelt in. He belonged here: on his knees with his throat working against the cock that bulged under his skin obscenely. His thoughts no longer mattered. His will crumbled at his feet, bending to the wind and the sands that eroded him away.
All he knew was pain and aching and burning, and that was all that he needed to feel. His master was kind like that, to allow him to still feel anything at all. Xornoth would take good care of his whore. He would take good care of–
"Pix?"
Jimmy's voice cut through the haze in his mind. Pixlriffs' eyes snapped open, his throat constricting immediately upon the intruder inside him, and tried to force it out. He gagged loudly around Xornoth’s cock. His hands landed on Xornoth’s thighs, but his grip was iron in his hair, holding Pix’s mouth to his pelvis.
"So glad of you to join us," Xornoth greeted kindly, his voice just a touch breathless. His horns tilted in the sun, casting long shadows down to the small crowd of people standing frozen to the spot. Pixlriffs blinked; the sun was out. Where darkness had once encircled him, crowded and oppressed him to his knees, now sunlight cast both his shadow and its judgment upon the sand. Pix’s eyes followed the length of his shadow to the group of people.
Lady Katherine’s hands covered her mouth, horror and shock written across her face like an open book. Queen Lizzie’s anger twitched in her hands, but the ocean was far from her and her apprehension stunk in the air. King Joel’s horror was lined with his disgust, and he reached for his wife, his own head discarding plans right before them.
And Jimmy, the Codfather himself… One of Pixandria’s oldest allies, the one that stuck by them when Xornoth first reared his ugly head, stared at his friend with betrayal ripping him open. Pix tried to communicate to them, tried to get them to see. He didn’t want this. He didn’t do this willingly. He’d been forced to kneel and he didn’t want to.
Xornoth chuckled, and roughly yanked Pixlriffs' head away from his allies. He forced his cock to slide back down into the hole it belonged in. Pix tried to struggle, to drag his head back and spit fire at his feet. He gagged and choked, but all his fight brought was a pleased moan from Xornoth’s lips. Disgust and shame churned in Pix’s guts as the demon began thrusting into his mouth. But arousal mixed in with his humiliation and soon Pix found himself unable to stop the hazy cloud from permeating his thoughts again.
His hips rolled and Xornoth's cock forced itself deeper into his throat. Pix choked again, moaning around the appendage as its ridges caught on the soft lining of his insides. It was a show for them, a show of the fall of Pixandria under the demon's will. Belatedly, Pix realized he had full control of his body again, but none of that mattered to a man broken of his will. At this point, he was nothing more than a receptacle for his master's pleasure. His hips rolled on his master's foot as he tried to get some friction on his weeping cock and he sucked along his master's length. Shame coiled hot in his groin, but he couldn't stop his own humiliation and his own dehumanization; so long as Xornoth's cock was down his throat, he was no longer Pixlriffs, Copper King of Pixandria. He was his master's whore, his master's toy, his master's slave.
Xornoth’s thrusts grew faster, harder, and he fucked Pix's face as Pixandria’s allies converged on the demon. Their footsteps faltered upon seeing that Pix was enjoying what was being done to him. Again, he tried to will them to realize that he wasn’t in control! He hadn’t knelt of his own accord! He hadn’t begged his mas–Xornoth to fuck him, to use him! Xornoth trembled as he came again down Pix’s heaving throat, his tears streaking down his face as the bulge slid free of his throat one last time. Drool and slick dripped from his mouth, the epitome of a well-used fucktoy.
“It was a pleasure to visit you, Copper King,” Xornoth mocked as he stepped away. To Pixandria’s allies, he grinned with all his teeth, then vanished from sight.