Legacy LD5

Another roleplay log between Ahastar and myself, and in my opinion, one of the sexiest scenes we've done!

Bolt the large, playful bronze dragon gives Ahastar, his reluctant trample toy raptor, a thorough working out under his huge dragon feet, only to then sprawl back and force Ahastar to lovingly worship and lick them, before finally pleasuring himself and heftily wiping the produce all over the squashed raptor in a destructive doormatting finale. Read at your own risk!

Warning - very graphic content follows! Insofar as text can be graphic, that is.

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Bolt snickers and heaves himself up off his gold to stretch his forelegs out in front of him like a giant cat. "Wanna play, little raptor?" he asks, sidestepping neatly off the treasure and coiling himself low to the ground...

Ahastar's ears are ringing with gems and coins dropping from the now standing dragon's firm belly, the raptor gritting his teeth, trying to look intimidating, but his retreated, nearly cowering pressing against the most nearby wall sure breaks that image. The young beast going into a pounce position doesn't help it, either. But maybe Ahastar's speaking will? "...No, I don't?"

Bolt flares his wings and bounces around with lively little thrusts of his forelegs that almost conceal the tremendous power and weight behind them. The dragon's great shoulders hunch firmly and his tail lashes out behind him, whooshing over the top of his heaped treasure as he edges closer to the cornered raptor. "Aww come on! I thought raptors were supposed to be fun!" He pauses for a moment and thinks, then says, "I promise I won't eat you!"

Ahastar's teeth stay grit, if not for impressing the young dragon, then clearly out of fear. The half demon tries to innocently look over towards the entrance, but his snout direction definitely gives his intentions away. It doesn't precisely aid the fact that said boulder is lightly bouncing just from the playful, excited dragon's hopping alone. Ahastar stays as close to the wall in his back as possible, feeling somewhat pounce-safe that way. Swallowing hard, the raptor looks over towards Bolt... just in time to see a solid steel, war-spiked knight's armor getting stomped on by one of the massive, vicious hind paws, turning back up from beneath it horribly flattened, without the dragon even noticing. "I am not so worried about your teeth", Ahastar hisses out.

Bolt's scaly lips curl into a broad smirk at this and he says nothing in reply, only prowling slowly closer. "What, you think you're safe from me there?" The greay quadroped edges left and right with quick, fluid motions, showing off. He snorts in amusement and rears back into a squat on his hind legs, tucking his forelimbs in against his chest in a theropod stance. "Maybe the dragon can't go near walls!" he mocks in a high pitched voice. "Maybe I am safe from fire!"

Ahastar snarls and hisses and violently jumps left and right against the wall, as if there would be an invisible bar attaching the young dragon and the panicking raptor against each other, constalty shoving the half demon away. The rapid movements of bronze scales all around him are nearly impossible for the half demon to register, the loudly complaining raptor hardly able to just keep that much draconic flesh steadily in his field of vision. Ahastar keeps holding on to his saftey wall, even when Bolt regally sits up on his haunches, looking a lot like a dignified castle statue made to impress and intimidate. Unfortunatly for the saurian, this one lives. "Yes, I actually do think I am somewhat... hey, stop..." Ahastar takes loud, snarling offense in being mocked verbally, until the part with the fire comes. At that point, the raptor's lower jaw drops, then quickly slams back up, a fearful gaze controting the half demon's muzzle. ... And then, with his head and feathercrest lowered in defeat, Ahastar steps forwards until his muzzle nearly bumps into Bolt's forearm, looking up at him with big, blue eyes that somehow manage to reflect the picture inside their connected brain - one of a smoking charcoal-black raptor skeleton, partially still burning.

Bolt lets his great forelegs sink slowly down from against his chest and he smiles in triumph as Ahastar meekly creeps forward. "Good raptor," he says, and reaches out to stroke the pad of a single clawed digit down the spine of the much smaller creature. "You're getting pretty well trained, huh?" The eyes of the young dragon meet those of the dominated raptor and Bolt slowly pulls his paw away, his every movement deliberate and silky with pure unchallengable authority. For no reason other than to make his victim feel even smaller, he steps back and dips his head right down so his eyes are on a level with Ahastar's own before smiling and saying, "But I still wanna pounce on you." After allowing a fraction of a second for this to sink in, the great scaled head lunges forwards, white fangs flashing as he grabs the half-demon in his jaws and flings him sprawling through the air to the other side of the cave, where he almost gets the honour of landing, but is beaten to it as the spreading forepaws of the pouncing dragon clap down on his airbourne body and plunge him down into the shallow geyser pool with eighteen tons of weight above them and an almighty splash.

Ahastar only notices that Bolt took up a raptorian-theropod stance when he finished presenting his own body to the young dragon, noticing that he is towered over by something looking like a gigantic version of himself! The half demon wants to say something, but he quickly shuts his mouth again. Instead, his feathercrest rises up in throbbing rage, while his eyes narrow down to dangerous slits. Or maybe just some of pressure, for the next moment, Ahastar has his face full with one single draconic forefinger, the massive beast ssssssliding that rasp-coarse digit of his down the raptor's spine! The half demon GASPS out against a nearby bronze belly plate, his own white scales pouring, raining off of his spine. The raptor takes one, two clumsy steps forwards while the back of his trunk nearly gets pushed to the floor even with his legs still standing straight, each single saurian vertebra protesting nearly as loudly as the muzzle up front. Finally, the raptor collapses down to his knees, lifing his shocked little snout - easily in chin-licking distance towards Bolt's own, shoved in skull. That draconic muzzle alone is larger than Ahastar's entire body, especially when the raptor is so fearfully bunched up, looking into Bolt's burning eyes and equally flame-lapping, fanged muzzle. "No...", the raptor beggingly whimpers out when his trample tormentor announces his pouncing plans. "Please, all of it JUST healed again!" ... No mercy! Instead, a loud, panicking "NYAAAARGHHHH!" fills Bolt's cavern, Ahastar trying to jump out of the way when the dragon lashes out for him, thick, dagger-like fangs remorselessly sinking themselves into screaming saurian flesh, then sending him airborne with all the impressive force of a dragon's neck-musculature! The half demon flips and twists through the air, desperatly trying to brace himself for that impact - yet that one happens IN the air! Ahastar rapidly loses three feet of elevation when Bolt ribcage-bustingly hammers his reptilian forepaws into the blood-spraying raptor's trunk, then pile-driving him STRAIGHT against the floor of the geyser! Dust and sand tries to fall off of the shaking earth's ceiling, but it gets washed away by the exploding water. In fact, the dragon's insane impact nearly completely empties the geyser for a brief moment, allowing Bolt to stare into the disbelieving, amazed azure eyes of his flattened pad pet before the saurian's body gets washed down under the returning flood.

Bolt's sparkling expression of glee and his triumphant 'Hah!' are drowned out as the hot water surges back to fill the briefly-emptied pool, and the dragon rises up out of his post-impact crouch and looks down at his neatly caught victim, struggling out of his shocked daze beneath the surface of the water. Bolt laughs as the snout of the raptor strains to poke its tip above the surface and gasp, and he playfully kneads the submerged raptor under his great crushing forepaws before hoisting Ahastar out by the tail and dangling him before the scaly muzzle of his youthful captor. "Cool, you're full of water," Bolt comments, and sits back on his haunches, lifting his other forepaw to squeeze up and down the diminutive body length of the spluttering raptor with entertaining results. "Anyway," he says after a moment. "Come over here and let's play properly." Stuffing the little theropod back into his jaws, the dragon flares his wings and wades regally out of the steaming pool, then struts over to his smooth rocky throne platform and drops Ahastar to the moss-covered ground at its foot. Without a moment's hesitation, the big quadroped plants a vast hind paw upon Ahastar, rolls him onto his back, then hefts his full weight onto the upturned theropod and plants his other hind paw on top of him beside the first. With Ahastar stretched out and gasping beneath the combined width of both his back feet, Bolt compacently rests his forelegs and chest down on top of the raised platform of his throne, settles his front half down comfortably, and begins to leisurely trample the raptor under his hind paws.

Ahastar, despite his burning lungs screaming for oxygen, doesn't really want to bring his muzzle out of the water again - there is a big dragon waiting out there! And it is grinning that broadly that the raptor manages to make out his white, dripping fangs even from beneath the hot, enraged water! Still, his burning blood *makes* the half demon desperately slam a handpaw out on a rocky shore, followed closely by Ahastar's gasping snout! "Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze", it comes spurted out of his mouth and blood-dripping nostrils. Apparently the saurian's re-breathing worked very fine, given that he can snarl and hiss and beneath Bolt's far-more-firmly-than-necessary kneading forepaws, the dragon leaning in literal tons of his weight, pumping the raptor empty of much more than the gallons of water he swallowed. Coughing and jerking, Ahastar finds his voice back together with his tail-dangled height. "Ack! Let me go! Let me gooooo! HOOUUAAARGHHHH!" The dragon doesn't. Instead, he brings his other forepaw along to squeeeeeze his plaything as if he expected a squeaky sound to come from the belly. It doesn't. Instead, there is even more water rushing down the half demon's throat. One moment later, Ahastar can only marvel about the fact that he still only vomits the fresh, hot water from his snout instead of roughly two dozen pierced in holes in his trunk, given how happy-hearty Bolt BITES into him, only to launch him down at the soft, bouncy moss next to the dragon's all-dominating throne. The raptor loses no time, trying to crawl away, open terror on his face, but Bolt's heavy, brutal hindfoot crushes any hope of escape together with a few pounds of flesh, bone and sinew! *CRRUNNCHHH!*, it echoes up when the young dragon cruelly turns his little toy over on its back, revealing the soft belly-side of the struggling raptor. "Nooooooooo!", he whimpers out. When Bolt steps forwards with clear intentions - his already planted hind foot mercilessly splitting apart Ahastar's legs and pressing his entire lower form down into the moss - the raptor actually brings his two handpaws up, folding them together, interlocking the fingers and praying, pleading, begging at Bolt for mercy, but instead the massive dragon just tramples forwards on top of his mental victim, burying the entire rest of the raptor beneath his hard, tough, coarse, viciously clawed and even more brutally padded other hind foot! A single saurian handpaw spreads up high and bulgy from in between a bronze toecrotch, a few cracked lines of pressure forming invisibly beneath the now ultra-compacted moss, raptor urine gushing out beneath one draconic heel and steaming water behind the other. *WHOOOMPPPP* Only when the young dragon feels his victim nearly EXPLODING from the insane weight of his reared up mass does he drop his own upper body upon his throne rock, instantly easing off the deadly part of pressure upon the half demon and instead "only" keeping him under body-and-pride-flattening portions. "NO!" - WOOOMP! - "DON'T!" - WHAAMMMM! - "Please, my FACE!" - CRACKKK!

The young dragon turns and amusedly listens to Ahastar's protests. "Shaddup," he says, continuing to trample. "Like you've got anything better to do than entertain a dragon. If it wasn't for me, you'd probably be out scratching rocks and digging up bugs, or whatever raptors do in the wild." And his energetic laughter resonates through the great black pads of his still-trampling hind paws. "Trust me, little guy, this is way more fun for both of us." The great powerful hind limbs of the dragon pump steadily, proudly showing off the finely carved musculature that stretches and contracts smoothly beneath the thick bronze scales that coat them. Bolt yawns and splays out his forepaws on top of the throne, making the merciless trampling of Ahastar look incredibly natural by the skillful, practised way he sets his feet on the tiny raptor; after a few minutes he even rests his great scaly head down atop his outstretched forelegs, giving the bizarre impression that his front half has gone to sleep on top of the raised platform while his back half continues to trample, hips rising and falling to the steady rhythm of the crunches and cracks and pained grunts from below. "This is pretty relaxing," Bolt says, timing his words to reach Ahastar when the raptor's head is cowering in the shadow of a raised dragon sole, not crushed heavily into a lowered one. He opens an eye and turns his head to smirkingly watch the raptor writhe in desperate self-preservation under his comparatively gentle treading. "But I guess it's kind of a shame not to have all of my weight on you; I'll bet you're really disappointed." With a quick thrust of his forelegs, Bolt rears up off the throne and balances easily on his hind legs, spreading his wings out wide and towering thirty five feet in the air, a great looming god of regal reptilian dominance. Even padded by the moss, Ahastar's tiny body gives a horriffic splintering crunch as it crumples beneath the suddenly-crushing weight that the two huge digitigrade hind paws put on him. "There!" Says the lording dragon, curling his muscular neck to look down at the twitching raptor limbs that poke out from between his long scaly toes. "That's much better!" He gives a broad smile at his own magnificence, then lifts his head to gaze steadily forward, and resumes his trampling, this time plunging all eighteen tons mercilessly into the thoroughly inadequate theropod with every step of his great draconic hind paws.

Ahastar is just as loud and vocal as the dragon so "soothingly" trampling him, but the raptor's part of the conversation is much less on topic and much more screech-driven. To any random bystander it might look as if the young dragon would trample his victim gently, almost carefully, but none of these observers could possibly comprehend the insane weight that is involved! Each one of Bolt's monstrous, sadistic padfeet is countless times more heavy than Ahastar's entire screaming, crying, begging and whimpering form, and they ravage and rape his flesh. The dragon's hind paws leave Ahastar's body behind as one gigantic bruise. The raptor's body doesn't shove off the typical three-toed prints because Bolt's feet lack the drive like this to punch their marks deep enough into the gurgling half demon's tissue to impact them in - instead, it is more like painting one endless blanket of red, blue and purple swellings all over the severely trampled Deinonychus. The half demon does his everything to defend himself. He once again brings his handpaws up to try and block off Bolt's face-crushing padsole. By now, the raptor really should know better - of course his hands get brutally twisted out of the way and simply trampled into his skull yet again, but there is just no way to endure the sight of a looming, then incoming dragonfoot without trying to slam your arms up! Next comes Bolt's lower paw, of course mainly aiming for his screaming trample-toy's crotch. With Ahastar having no way to evade or defend himself against the cloaca-flattening impacts, the groaning creature has to resort to another tactic here: He tries to bring up his legs and tail, sling them all around Bolt's ankle and pusssshhhhhh upwards. They don't even manage to slide up the dragon's scales though, these being so tough and hard, and of course don't even get to think about lifting the beast's impotence-forcing tread. And once more, here comes Bolt's facial foot! Ahastar has a split second to catch some breath, try to calm his rage-aching head and go for a new idea: Instead of going for the insane measure of stopping these pile-driving legs in their course, the raptor uses an evasive maneuver to bring him out of harm's way! He completely bows his entire upper body out of the way, bringing his head so far out of the area that he could lick Bolt's heels - but the half demon completely and dangerously miscalculated the true size of the dragon's clawed feet! The beast's paw slams down and STILL catches part of Ahastar's neck, thus forcing the entire should-be-facial stomp's gruesome force upon the dinosaur's neck and spinal cord, also completely squashing his veins and arteries in the process! Stars of agony explode in front of the Deinonychus' eyes, his breathing comes to a halt, as does his perception of time! It seems like an eon for Bolt to move his crushing foot up again, and the crying, sobbing raptor at ONCE brings his entire head back into its original position to.. allow the beast's face-violating foot to spread evenly over Ahastar's most precious bodily features again. With all of his defense attempts vanquished, the whimpering half demon just lays down there and endures Bolt's trampling feet. Experiences them. Sticks to them. Has his body stomped soft and supple by them. Drools and climaxes all over their pads. But then, the dragon decides to make it all even more hellicious. And Ahastar listens. With the raptor's gasping, footprinted face sticking out behind his torturer's toecrotch, he leans over, eyeing up at him. "Nooo..", the half demon whines out, scratching over the moss. "Not full.. not full..", the saurian wheezes out with the remaining 10% of his lung capacity, but there is no soothing, haggling or pleading with the draconic devil! Instead, he RREAAARRRRSSSSSSS up! The moss instantly gives in and drives Ahastar to the very floor! The entire cave seems to shake, the half demon urinates, vomits, cramps and seeds himself simultaneously, losing ALL control of his body, countless bulges of bruised raptor flesh throbbing between draconic toes and around heavily scaled feet! And then, the trampling starts again.. with a raptor already stomped so soft and easy that he sticks to the earth-shaking pads of his draconic steamroller like an old, rotten, fang-chewed piece of chewing gum!

Bolt snickers and hunches his powerful forelegs up against his chest again to mercilessly mock, "Not full! Not full!" The vast crushing hind limbs slam and pound, mashing Ahastar into a mangled heap, breaking him horriffically and well beyond all earthly repair, and Bolt says, "Hey! Do you reckon I could trample you with just one hind paw, little guy? That would be more full than doing it with both of them!" Still stoically whumping his great clawed feet onto the dwarfed raptor far below, Bolt frowns thoughtfully and looks down at himself. "Maybe if I..." he trails off and his bone-shattering trampling comes to a halt as both hind paws come down to plant pulverisingly upon Ahastar's mangled form. After an experimental shifting of weight that miraculously still manages to draws crackles and crunches from the squashed raptor, he spreads his wings out wide and carefully lifts his hind foot from Ahastar's lower half, raising it tentatively into the air and holding it there. "Hah!" boasts the young dragon, wobbling slightly as he stands one-footed upon the upper half of the broken theropod. "Look what I can do! Oh wait..." He snickers and uncaringly sets his hefty hind paw back down on the bruised, swollen mess that is Ahastar's belly, hips and legs, and he carefully lifts his other great limb, giving his long digitigrade foot a quick shake to dislodge the skull and flattened neck from his hot black sole pads. "There, look!" he calls down to the now-exposed head of the half-demon, splaying his long thick toes out twelve feet above the mangled creature and grinning down at him from between them. "I guess I can't really trample you like this though," he says with a snort of amusement and a dangerous wobble.

Ahastar's screaming and struggling becomes absolutely mental and desperate now that Bolt forces him to feel every last grain of his draconic, violating body. Raptor limbs twitch madly and completely out of control no matter if the feet crushing them rise or press down, and raptor juices spray and gush into every single direction. Ahastar's by now cracked-red eyes bleed just as profoundly as his ears, nostrils, almost toothless gums and cloaca, but they can still see - either pure, malicious, black padded hell or a gigantic, behemothial dragon standing, towering on his broken, half flat little body, grinning down at him with excitement and sadistic arousal in his flickering ember eyes, a vast clawfoot risen like a blunt execution axe starving for the next impact. All these wings and arms and scales stretch out as far as the half demon can see, not even allowing his nearly flat brain to register anything not Bolt. His entire known universe at this point consists of a gruesomely heavy dragon with broad, merciless feet carrying vicious pads and claws trampling him into the floor. Ahastar's desperate struggling makes him look like a bug that was rolled on his back and now urgently tries to crawl away through thin air. Any sort of padpaw contact with the young dragon is terrible to the tiny dinosaur, but these reared up hind feet sessions are pure, unmitigated punishment beneath 18 tons of weight and pile driving impacts. Eventually, the nearly flat trampled raptor has to bring his shattered hands over his broken jaws and press tightly against his lips just to keep his own guts and organs at least inside his throat, all the while Bolt keeps on riding him as if he tried to make wine from raptor grapes. And then, all out of a sudden to the steaming-trampled raptor, his cupping hands, shattered skull, throat-bound intestines and throbbing neck are all turned into one single, chaotic, stomped flat mess! The mighty Bolt has just decided that "full" doesn't mean "two footed!" Instead, the wicked dragon has planted his entire bulk down upon the grain-20-sandpaper-sole of his left hindpaw - with catastrophic results! All of Ahastar's remaining body is forced to lift up and curl around Bolt's leg, the dinosaur's tailtip nearly tickling the dragon's own groin. A remarkable display of physical abilities, given that the raptor doesn't have a single muscle or bone left intact inside him - at least for a brief moment before it all collapses back down into a heap of murderously footprinted demon flesh. And of course this STILL is not enough for the draconic trample torturer! The mighty fire-breathing lizard hops on his standing foot a few times, sending inane tremors through Ahastar's skull and all the other, minor things the dragon buried. Brain matter creeps through the Deinonychus' eyes to lotion up the dragon's coarse pads. And when Bolt changes his feet to reveal the raptor's upper body, it is easily noticeable just how horribly he destroyed his pad pet's skull: The wobbling with which Ahastar's upper and only afterwards lower jaw peel off of Bolt's hot padsole testify the degree to which the saurian's jaws must be shattered and dislocated. The Deinonychus' face looks as if an army tank would have rolled over it while he kissed the asphalt. And now, that very same damage is done to the half demon's lower body. Ahastar feels everything around his groin and gut explode into internal, slimy wetness, while he is forced to stare up at Bolt's face, again trying to not puke his guts out when the young dragon begins to hop. Sure, the half demon's body is forced to fold up like a jackknife, a puddle of red-hued raptor piss spreading out from an area of dinosaur flesh that isn't even remotely located near Ahastar's bladder - but he still manages to look into the cruel dragon's face.

Bolt backstrokes with his wings a couple of times to keep from overbalancing, then the great dragon gives a final smirk down at Ahastar's ruined head and carefully seals it away under his hulking black-soled hind paw again, easing his weight back out between his two back limbs. The agile quadroped sinks slowly down onto his haunches on top of the wet, pulped raptor, toes splaying wide as his great digitigrade soles flatten out to further mock their victim with their absolute size supremacy. With a further flap of his wings, the dragon drops down onto all fours and he swings his head to watch with grim amusement as he slowly peels his back paws out of the flacid, squashed raptor. "Ewwww," he snickers as slick tendrils of congealed raptor fluids stretch up between his sole pads and the mangled half-demon. "This is even worse than last time. You're lucky I play with you at all if this is the way you thank me!" Leaving Ahastar squashed into the heavily-footprinted moss, the young dragon backs into the geyser pool and wades about, fastidiously upturning and examining his black foot pads every now and then until he is satisfied with their lack of raptor. "Aaaaah, that's better!" He states, wading out of the pool and standing proudly over his tiny mangled victim. His impressive chest expands as he takes a deep refreshing breath, then he dips his head and snickers down at Ahastar, the barely-alive theropod gasping weakly and looking like most of his body mass is outside his body. "Aww, you don't wanna be trampled any more, huh? Okay then little guy, you go up here on my dragon throne and have a rest." Carefully and with clear reluctance, the young dragon pulls Ahastar out of the bloodstained moss with his foreclaws and lifts the limp raptor onto the smooth stone formation. With a theatrically extreme yawn, Bolt sidesteps away from the bloody patch, then collapses onto his flank upon the moss, arcing his great body around the rocky throne. He sprawls and shuffles a little, rolling onto his back, then hefts both hind limbs and stacks his huge clawed feet upon the stone alongside Ahastar. "But you're only allowed to have a break from trampling if you lick my paws," he says to the cave ceiling with an air of extreme self-satisfaction.

Even with all the moss, all the perfect trampling rhythm and all the demonic resilience Ahastar can offer, a worm in a lizard costume can only take the reared up punishment of the 35 feet high tower of armor-scaled, flame-eating, devil-winged dragon-god of trampling and flattening for so long. And so, the half demon VIOLENTLY pukes up nearly the entire content of his insides: Guts, organs, muscles, tissue. Bolt is even faster than the raptor's bursting intestines though, the young dragon forcefully slamming his left hind foot precisely in between the retching raptor's jaws, thus not only quelling any further purging of guts, but also squashing and squeezing them back down the nearly insane trampled half demon's gullet! The cruel, purrrrring dragon simply keeps trampling then, placing his paws over and over and over, each single step sending tremors through Bolt's cave! By the time the godlike dragon has finally put down the coupe the grace, the delicious final stomp, Ahastar's body is hardly recognizable as anything that ever lived, much less a Deinonychus! It is more resembling a puddle of gore and broken limbs, covered by ripped apart portions of leathery, husky hide. The trampled to hell and back creature is resting in one massive gap inside the cave floor moss - these are actually Bolt's footprints, but there are so many of them by now that it is impossible to recognize them as anything but one single, huge valley. When the young dragon finally sees fit to BOOOOOOMMMM his upper body back down to the floor and pulling, peeling, ripping and wedging his paw-coating raptor off of his feet, even Bolt has to turn around and inspect his pad pet very closely to make sure that it is, indeed, still alive. Jubilations, it is! By three percent, maybe, but the tongue still seems to be in somewhat of a working condition, and that is all the cruel dragon-god cares about for now. Without his oversized adrenaline-pump keeping on working him, the destroyed half demon is left behind to dwell and enjoy his trampled agony, before Ahastar's crushed red, bleeding eyes yet again have to endure the dominating, tyrannical stare of his "owner." "No..", the half demon whisper-whimpers out. "No more.. I can't.. take this.. any more.." Well, if the Deinonychus managed to look over Bolt's shoulder right now, maybe he would be able to see a dragon that cares? With the young bronze beast though, all he gets is two cruel forepaws holding his raptorian arms - his boneless, jellyfish raptorian arms, to be precisely - and lifting him up like a vicious puppetmaster, making him dance and waggle through the air while the dragon hums him a little melody! Ahastar would love to piss himself from the shooting pain, but Bolt trampled the saurian's urine out into the moss and just washed 80% of the raptor's former bladder off in the geyser water. Instead, the half demon collapses to a luckless heap of meat on top of the dragon's throne. Oh yes, it is good to be on top, Ahastar thinks! But unfortunately, he doesn't get to govern as a monarch. It is more like a council, for the raptor is quickly joined by two gigantic dragonfeet, each one almost as large as his entire remaining body! They are steaming with geyser water, rough and coarse and pressed as tightly together as possible to create a single, dominating sole area with just enough play between the stretching toes to make sure Ahastar can't miss the image of Bolt down below, laying down as if he'd be sunning his belly on a beach. Of course after what he just had to endure, the gasping raptor crawls forwards. "Yes.. everything.. just no more.. no more.." And one moment later, Bolt gets to feel a warm, moist raptor tongue orally pedicuring his rough dragonfeet. The very dragonfeet, in fact, that just trampled him absolutely flat. All that remains for the half demon now is to pamper and worship their very soles.

A self-satisfied smile spreads across Bolt's handsome draconic maw and he lets his forelegs relax down against his upturned chest, wrists bent and paws facing downwards, splaying with pleasure as Ahastar's tongue meekly meets his coarse foot pads. "Who's a good little raptor?" the young dragon croons softly, leaning forward and sending a mocking yellow-eyed smirk between his mildly splaying toes at the mangled half-demon before he rests his horned head back in the moss, heaving a contented sigh as steam from the geyser pool curls quietly around his magnificent sprawling body. Even with the pulped half-demon's most demonically enthusiastic efforts, the licking of Bolt's sole pads is barely detectable by the dragon, but Bolt still splays his long clawed toes luxuriously in the face of the humbled raptor, and he quickly begins to purr. Stacked as they are, the huge draconic hind paws rest with their narrow digitigrade heels pressed against the rocky throne, the seldom-seen arches presenting two long, sleekly scaled expanses of padless reptilian hide, two feet long and a foot-and-a-half wide, while the broad, well-padded walking sections starkly exposed before Ahastar, curling downwards over the top of his crippled body in grim relaxation. As he feels the desperate ministrations of his little trample toy commence, Bolt lays a forepaw over his cloacal bulge and begins to contentedly massage it. "Good raptor," he repeats, smiling up at the cave ceiling.

Ahastar recoils after only a brief licking session, his muzzle already filled with a clean, if heavy, thick reptilian flavor. The raptor will keep going, he just.. needs a brief moment in which to try and understand the things just happening to him. Retching and trying to swallow the blood still having hid in parts of his muzzle, the half demon using that "chance" to look and marvel over the immense hind paws of the young dragon. With Bolt relaxing more and more and thus presenting parts of his feet to the crushed raptor that are not usually part of any trampling pattern, the two draconian padpaws indeed manage to outsize the pulped little creature in beneath them. Ahastar's shocked eyes travel over the rock hard heels, the solid, broad, heavy ordnance arches and eventually all the way up the two heftily padded walking sections, all over again with a gasping expression until the pillar-thick toes spread apart, revealing a smugly smiling dragon face sooooo far away, completely relaxed and happy with the world. Ahastar on the other hand briefly bites his lips. Trembles in place. Then finally drops his gaze down at the throne seat and answers with a shaky. ".. I am a good little raptor." And when he looks back up, he gets to prove it, too! The half demon leans forwards first to bring his head down and start nibbling all over the two solid dragon-heels. With no teeth left in the raptor's gums, it is a bit more of an ordeal than he planned to, but it is not like Ahastar would have been able to gnaw through the hefty scales in the first place. Next, the meek saurian takes care of the two hefty, brutal arches. He tries to lick them at first, but they feel that tough and bone-hard that the raptor isn't sure if Bolt can feel his raptor tongue there at all. At a desperate loss of options, the Deinonychus eventually leans forwards and nuzzles them as hard as he can, up and down, up and down, over and over, until a satisfied purrrrrrr from down below tells Ahastar that his "owner" feels.. something, at least. That also is the sign for the raptor to start with the real soles of the hefty, digitigrade clawfeet! The half demon licks and laps over all black pads until his drool has shined them all up to a midnight black, then proceeds to suck on the sole-scales making up the smaller portion of Bolt's hind-soles and eventually takes the looser reptilian hide around every single toecrotch into his mouth, one by one, heartily chewing them. Noticing Bolt rrrrrrrumbling like a battleship engine and also realizing that his doing is arousing the sadistic dragon, the desperate half demon lifts his snout even higher and begins to soundly lick over each single toe, from the root all the way to the very padded tip, one of the six toes at a time, from left to right, then starting at the first again.

Bolt stretches out to the side and grabs the old, worn dragon trample moves book from beside the throne, then he sets it on top of his plated chest and begins to read through it while he relaxes on his back. He looks a picture of relaxation, stretched out on his back on the moss, his wings folded in against his sides and propping him upright, one foreleg flopped over his chest, holding open the book while the other hunches casually down against his underside. His tail curls around the throne posessively and both his powerful hind limbs are raised up, their great clawed paws stretching up and over the destroyed and dominated raptor that so enthusiastically worships their shapely undersides. Bolt occasionally lowers his book and contentedly watches Ahastar work, giving the odd encouraging flex of his long, thick toes or rumble of enjoyment. The sounds of feverish licking and rasping scales against pads blends with the ambient sounds of the cave and the occasional thick rustle of a page being turned.

Ahastar keeps licking the six draconic toes up and down until his little tongue feels ready to fall off, the small raptor going back down on his knees with an exhausted groan, keeping his rasped oral muscle dangling out so that it can get soothed by fresh, if hot air and massaging his own throat with his slender raptor hands, trying to get the knotted up muscles to relax. Wouldn't it be for that brief brake the half demon allows himself, he wouldn't have heard Bolt flipping one of the old, thick pages in his apparently new favorite book - too loudly do scales rattle over scales during Ahastar's nuzzling, licking and gnawing. Now though, the half demon pokes his little snout out between the middle of the young dragon's stacked together, lording hind paws, managing to sneak a peek upon what Bolt runs through his heavily clawed fingers.. and instantly being thrown into a shocked whimper at the sight of the trampling dictionary in the dragon's cruel fingers! At once, the half demon is back up on his own little feet, pouncing up on the higher end of the flexing, shuffling, powerful dragon feet, driving his desperate raptor muzzle heavily into one of the looming toecrotches and starts to orally "massage" the sadistic dragon's looser reptilian hide there with long, strong chewing.

Bolt's great hind paw barely even twitches under the sudden weight of the raptor, but the dragon lowers his book to investigate and snickers at what he sees. "Hey! You're not so badly wounded after all," he says, more amused than indignant. "You sneaky little raptor." The book is raised again, concealing its owner's smirking muzzle, but Bolt continues talking from behind it. "There's one in here where the dragon rears up and kind of wipes his back paws on the raptor. I reckon we'd be pretty good at that!" He pauses for a moment, then snaps the old book shut with a dull thud and sets it down beside him, returning his forepaw to massaging his bulging cloacal region. "Aaaah, but this feels good too," he says with a theatrically indecisive expression, and flexes his scaly toes apart to better admit the nuzzling, biting raptor head between them. "Tell you what, little guy. You can keep working on my paws while it still feels nice, then when I've had enough we'll try the wiping. Okay?"

Ahastar chews his broken, toothless, shattered little jaws with the vigor of a creature that is licking his executioner's axe to still draw out the inevitable for a few more moments, the massive, lording dragon having thoroughly trampled his raptor to a destroyed mess - the fact that the half demon still manages to jump and hold on to Bolt's immense padfoot is not testifying the remaining integrity of Ahastar's body - it is testifying how shocking even a mere, stern gaze of the mighty dragon is towards the panicking raptor! The half demon keeps chewing and gumming the young beast's hide, the relaxed condition of Bolt's toes easily allowing his raptor to take his little mouth quite full before going to work. And again. And again. And one more time, once for each toecrotch in between the dragons six digits. Ahastar barely finishes with the last one when the loud, slapping sound of the thick dragon-book being forcefully shut sends fresh fear down the half demon's cracked and trampled spine. "Wiping.. reared up and.. wiping..", the half demon whispers out. If Bolt cares to look close enough, he can almost see the image of a fearsome dragon heavily using a writhing raptor as its personal doormat reflecting in Ahastar's eyes. Of course the raptor instantly begins to chew and lick anew, this time trying his luck with Bolt's heels.

Bolt laughs as he sees the raptor disappear down behind his hefty digitigrade feet again and a pleasant scratchy pressure begins to creep against his right heel. The young dragon sprawls a little and stretches out in luxury, watching with a knowing while the broken tail of the little half-demon occasionally flicks into view from behind his towering soles. The huge paws of the dragon stretch nearly six feet in the air, stretched out of their digitigrade posture as they are, and something about the dragon's smug splaying and flexing of his big padded walking sections says that he is very proud of the fact. If it weren't for their relaxed slumping, the hefty hind paws would easily outclass Ahastar in height. Bolt's forepaw begins kneading firmly between his raised legs, coaxing out the glistening black length of his shaft while the dragon rests his head back and gazes up at the cave ceiling, deeply enjoying the meek, desperate attentions of Ahastar as they travel from his narrow digitigrade heels, up the long sleek arches of his sturdy soles to the padded walking sections and their sturdy clawed digits. A toothy grin spreads across his long muzzle and he says, "So tell me, little guy; what's your favourite kind of dragon in the whole world?"

Ahastar struggles with even getting a decent amount of dragon-heel in between his lips, the tough, hard structures packed with armored scales and firm, leathery hide quickly demanding their toll from the raptor's bashed in jaws. Dropping back on his slender rear, the half demon only grants himself the briefest of brakes though, fully aware that Bolt is thoroughly pleasuring himself on Ahastar's expense. Not a good moment to cease the young dragon's fetishistic worship order. The raptor has not forgotten that the last time Bolt seeked himself relief, he crushed and pounded it straight out of the half demon's helpless body with all four of his mighty dragonfeet, nearly trampling Ahastar to a flat hide on the cave floor. This way is more humiliating and embarrassing, but much less painful! And that is something the raptor can deal with, he thinks. "If only his paws were a little softer!", the stomped saurian thinks, his mouth twitching with strain and exhaustion. To allow his chewing muscles some much needed rest, Ahastar returns to licking duty - and he doesn't fool around with it by only using the tip of his tongue or gentle laps! Instead, the raptor pushes forward, hard, squeezing nearly the entire surface of his tongue against his trample tormentor's sole, and all the strength he has to offer. The Deinonychus licks his tongue up and down the massive, draconic walking sections like a worn out washing rag, filling his senses with Bolt's aggressive, dominating, oppressive presence. He is that going for it that Ahastar nearly misses the beast's question in all his purrrrrring rumbles. He quickly leans out from behind the monstrous, reptilian clawfoot to offer an answer. It comes out with surprising rage and fury for a half demon currently busy as a pad taster. ".. my favorite kind? The sleeping one!"

A snort of draconic laughter blows turbulence through the steam above Bolt's muzzle and he says, "Yeah, that figures." The long scaly toes of his other foot descend to curl and splay around Ahastar's broken tail, weaving it between them in a manner halfway between playful and posessive, then Bolt slowly tilts his long digitigrade hind paw upright again and lifts Ahastar's hindquarters into the air, leaving the raptor's chin to slap down against the stone in the shadow of Bolt's other heel. "Hey, no one said stop," the dragon protests, and he leans forward to watch over the ridge of his chest as the scrabbling of broken limbs ceases and he feels a nudging snout against his heel once more. With a growl of pleasure, Bolt begins tending to his growing draconic erection with a smooth, full-on stroking of his padded forepaw, and his resting hind feet grow ever more restless with their little raptoian toy. With Ahastar's tail woven between his clawed toes, the playful dragon begins periodically lifting the mangled raptor and dangling him above the spreading walking section of his other hind foot. "My favourite kind of raptor," Bolt continues conversationally, "is the sort that can be stomped to mush and still lick your paws. That's pretty devoted!"

Another unexpected and thus rather sharp lance of pain shoots through every last bone in Ahastar's body, all bone fragments counting extra, of course, when Bolt's currently un-worshiped dragonfoot slips its oppressive talon-toes around the screeching half demon's tail, quickly elevating the tiny creature in his dominating hind paws' shadow up, forcing the distressed raptor to first unwillingly kiss the stone of the dragon throne and then, "suggested" and much more "voluntary" Bolt's firm, presented heel. Ahastar only rarely comes in contact with that specific part of the trampling-happy beast's foot. Usually only when he takes a haunched seat upon him, burying him under both his destroying, bloodthirsty dragonpaws and then inviting some random, usually tithing visitor or ambassador of a terrorized kingdom - and making a fun game out of it if said guest will recognize that there is a raptor trample-pinned beneath Bolt's vast, crushing hind feet. If he does, it seems to terrorize the guests even more. If he doesn't, the evening usually ends with a conversation titled "Haha, nobody even sees you when I plant my foot on you!" "Huuurrrghhhh!" Ripped out of his thoughts, Ahastar barely manages to dislodge his tongue from Bolt's crushing heel before something else gets ripped, the hapless, agonized raptor being lifted high and higher, until he can lick over the dragon's walking pad. Only now does the pulped half demon get the angle and thus the opportunity to behold just how much Bolt ..enjoys his pad pet's fetishistic worship, making the raptor's heart pound in his cracked chest. Blood pumping through him with rage and anger, Ahastar decides to answer Bolt. "I would.. have APPRECIATED it.. if you would have done it.. the other way round.." Alas, the dragon didn't. Which is why Ahastar closes a broken instead of a healthy mouth around Bolt's middle toe pad, and starts to suck on it.

Bolt's impressive muscles grow gradually more tense as the young dragon stimulates himself shamelessly. Now able to see his little trample toy as he dangles Ahastar over the upward-tilted walking section of his left foot, the mighty quadroped lifts his head and watches intently, strong neck muscles holding up his great horned skull easily. "Yeah, that's it! Good little raptor," he rumbles happily, hunching his hind leg against him and splaying his toes to let Ahastar'a tail slide free from between them so the half-demon drops onto the upward-facing sole of his left hind foot. The warm undersides of the long toes curl upward underneath Ahastar's comparatively tiny body, forming a kind of cupped prison for the raptor while saliva slickens the great dark ball pad that firmly supports him. "But this way round we've got that wiping part to look forward to," Bolt grins, his eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure and his forepaw sliding rhythmically up and down. "Too bad my paws are so clean, huh? They need something to wipe on you or we won't be doing it right." He snickers and gives a shuddering gasp of pleasure as a particularly well-timed squeeze of his padded forepaw coincides with an especially deep thrust of Ahastar's tiny forked tongue into the groove of his great centre pad. "Hopefully... one of us will... produce something... to wipe..." His other great hind leg hunches in against him and begins pawing the air in ferocious, energetic lust.

If Bolt would have ordered a painter into his cave to turn precisely this moment into a picture, the result could probably be called "eternal humbling". Ahastar looks absolutely pitiful! His crushed, trampled and worn little body rides and slams all over the dragon's manipulating, upturned foot, destroyed demon limbs slapping around uselessly, only held by a few patches of sinew and flattened muscle. His cracked mouth is firmly lodged around another dragon-toe, nearly as thick as the raptor's chest (in healthy condition), sucking and licking so hard against the coarse, steaming hot pad that drool creeps out not only from the corners of the half demon' cheeks, but also from his nostrils - where it mixes up with shaking tears of rage and humiliation. Still, Ahastar's eyes stay wide open. And no matter how hard he tries to hide it, the raptor's gaze time and time again travels over the young dragon's own, bubbling hot cloaca. The tools he wields are.. impressive, to say the last, and a well hidden, but very loud and angry part of the half demon finds the idea of another reptilian predator so much vastly more powerful in sexual equipment daring to remain in his presence incredibly offensive, degrading and embarrassing. The fact that Ahastar is currently busy sucking every last grain of sand from deep inside said predator's toepads doesn't help the situation much, either. Even that gnawing, clawing voice in his mind instantly is turned to a shocked, stumbling, begging whisper though the moment Bolt mentions his next plan again. The raptor might be trampled nearly senseless, but he still thinks fast enough - and gags on Bolt's toe when the dragon makes his intentions more than clear. Badly fighting for his balance, Ahastar stares into the beast's pleasure-soaked eyes with nearly infinite shock of his own, violently shaking his muzzle. "I.. I.. you.." What do you possibly tell a dragon that plans to wipe boiling seed on you with padded feet that could rasp a boulder with their soles, while he has reared you down beneath his entire gruesome weight? "The raptor swallows hard, both to find his wit back and to silence that hefty urge to puke. "I.. am pretty sure your book is okay with clean paws during wiping! These are just.. SUGGESTIONS!"

Bolt opens his great jaws as though to reply, but they quickly clamp shut again and the entire length of his magnificent body seizes up, muscles chenching powerfully as the dragon tumbles uncontrollably towards a violent climax. The thick, long toes of Ahastar's supporting hind paw splay out wide and curl inwards, thick rope-like tendons standing out starkly, then the dragon gives a great roar and the big paw twitches a couple of times before kicking out with lust-fuelled dragon strength, flinging Ahastar devastatingly into the cave wall in the manner of food catapaulted from a spoon. The great dragon sprawls onto his flank and shudderingly spurts his load out onto the cave floor, somehow finding the self-control to avoid the mossy bed completely while he growlingly rides out his orgasm, pawing the air with his three free paws. For several long minutes the young predator simply lies there, his flank rising and falling and his chin slumped on the cave floor, jaws lolling open a lazy crack and eyes reduced to lethargic slits of yellow; but as his post-climatic stupour eases away, he regains his bouyancy and eventually sprawls onto his front to get up and go to look for Ahastar. "Hey!" He calls out, peering behid the throne, then rearing up to put his forepaws on it and look around. "It's okay, little guy, we can do the wiping now!"

Ahastar feels as if someone threw him into an industrial sized tumble drier, the half demon hanging on to the viciously kicking and twitching dragonfeet for his dear live, trying his best to evade the gigantic, slicing talons and crushing pads in order to be neither cut through in the middle not ground to moist dust! It is quite a task to achieve with having virtually no bones and muscles left in working condition, - but at least Ahastar was able to stop his frantic toe-sucking! It is not like Bolt would notice it now. It is not like Bolt would notice his lair being flooded by lava right, actually, the screeching raptor desperately clenching around a thick, scaled toe.. before finally, the young dragon lets loose a ROOAAAARRRRRR that will transcend eons just by echoing from one mountain wall to the next! Broken arms or not, ripped apart biceps or not, Ahastar *slams* his handpaws over his ears, his frantic sssssnaaarrrllls completely drowned out by Bolt's volume. The half demon at once regrets having given up his toe hug, for now the dragon's leg leashes out with enough force to kick in a castle wall! The raptor is airborne at once, easily reaching a few hundred miles per hour! *CRRRRACK- CRRRUNNCCHHH!* His hapless, chaotically flipping body shatters one, two firm stalactites off of the dragon's cave ceiling, before it bashes against the wall, still with enough speed to count as a white-scaled meteor! .. For a few blessed moments, the half demon just sticks against (and inside) Bolt's lair, before gravity finally has tracked him down again and demands that he peels off and flops to the hard cave floor, seven stories beneath his impact zone. *BATSCH!* Ahastar hits the ground with an alarmingly moist and slimy sound.. and for a few minutes, there is only the dazed, exhausted rrrrumbling-rattling breath of a mighty dragonlord to be heard. Yet then, heavy steps shake up the ground and Bolt's cunning, "innocently" smiling snout pokes up from behind the throne. "No..", Ahastar gurgles out. He sees himself, here on this rough floor, with that 35 foot high, 18 ton heavy dragon standing on him, humiliatingly abusing him as a doormat with these mind-and-body-violating dragonpaws smeared with seed as hot as the desert sand. "No.. you are not.. doing that to me.." The raptor tries to turn around and just crawl away.

Bolt catches sight of his wounded little trample toy and his head swings to look at Ahastar. "Aaah, there you are!" He arches his back and steps his back paws up onto the throne too, then jumps down off it and struts over to his victim. "Where are you going?" snickers the dragon as Ahastar begins to drag himself weakly along the cave floor, and he moves to stand over the crawling raptor and slowly walk forward at the same crawling pace until Ahastar gives up and lies still beneath his great underside. Curling his head down underneath him, Bolt gives an amused snort, then reaches back to scoop up the lamely protesting theropod in a great foreclaw and carry him back to the moss-surrounded throne. The dragon tosses down his tiny victim and pushes him along the ground with a forepaw. "Okay, you just lie here," he says, rolling Ahastar onto his back and stretching him out alongside the conspicuous, steaming splatter of dragon seed, "And I guess I'll go... wait," he adds, and sets a great hind foot upon the raptor as he stretches forward to pick up the book again and examine its illustration. "Oh, right..." The scaly bronze eyeridges furrow thoughtfully, then Bolt puts the book down and swings his head back to smile brightly at Ahastar. "I'm gonna improvise a bit, little guy; I hope you don't mind." And without wasting a moment, half his crushing weight surges down on Ahastar and the other huge back paw plants upon the head of the half-demon. Bolt shuffles his hindquarters about, sidestepping left and right a little until he has Ahastar's body length covered perfectly under the combined width of the sturdy walking sections of his paws, long thick toes and broad balls totally engulfing the tiny theropod. In the hot, crushing blackness of the dragon's soles, a long tingling pause stretches out before Bolt, with a snarl of exultation, thrusts up with his forepaws and rears back onto his hind legs.

Ahastar keeps crawling forwards meekly, as much as his shell-shocked, crushed little body allows him to. The raptor' course is clearly set for the exit of the cave. Sure, he can't hope to even roll the massive boulder blocking it even an inch away and his snail's pace also probably doesn't impress his draconic captor too much, but the desperate half-demon cares little about these tiny shreds of reality. Only when he sees one draconic forepaw to his left and one draconic forepaw to his right, the shadow of Bolt's torso painting him black beneath it, does Ahastar begin to realize that he can't run. No matter how slow. The dragon does his best to creeps forwards as leisurely as Ahastar does, the raptor's gaze growing darker and darker from the mocking sidestepping - until finally, he just gives up and lays down, hissing and sputtering curses under his breath. When the young dragon leans down to pick his little pad pet up, Ahastar nearly melts from the amount of smug Bolt puts in his broad reptilian snout. "Oh you like that, don't you?", the half demon sneers out with enough vitriol in his voice to nearly make the dragon laugh. Instead, Bolt simply puts the crushed, agonized body of his raptor back down on the soft, if heavily footprinted soil. "No.. no.. NO!" the Deinonychus complains when his trample tormentor tries to roll him over on his back. Ahastar defends himself with all his stubbornness, clinging to the moss or rolling completely through and back on his spine. "OOOUUURRFFFF!" .. Eventually though, and with a blood-soaked spittle of drool nearly hitting the cave ceiling, Bolt ends Ahastar's evasion with one hefty, massive reptilian hind foot! With bulging eyes and flesh, the raptor's body - successfully deployed belly side up - folds around the dragon's immense paw, twitching between claws, pads and heel while being heavily contorted and pushed down into the moss. Watching his tormentor picking up his book again and casually reading in it nearly drives the battling raptor insane, the fact that he rests so close to Bolt's splattered, fiery juices not helping his panic at all! And sure enough, one moment later the young beast's other, massive hind foot lifts up again. "Noogh..", Ahastar gasps out breathlessly, watching where it aims. "Not.. in the face.. not.. again.. in the.." *BATSCHHHHHHH!* The cruel dragon plants his walking pad *perfectly* on Ahastar's nostrils, burying and stomping his body out completely. He doesn't even grant his vanished raptor the mercy of a brief warning when he violently and recklessly reeaaarrsssss up on his victim again, pulverizing the Deinonychus crunching, whimpering body DOWN into the moss and sending red fluids squirting out between all of his toecrotches.

Bolt smirks and says, "Aww, you make such cute little noises." And he slowly rolls his great weight back and forth from the pads of his toes to the back of his ball pads, closing his eyes and cocking his head to make a show of listening to the prolonged splintering crunches that answer his weighty swaying. He gives a flap of his wings to aid his balance, then curls his head to look back at the still-steaming pile of his own bodily fluid on the cave floor behind him, and his scaly lips curl into a broad smile as he eases his weight to the side and lifts the smothering walking section of his great digitigrade foot from Ahastar's head and chest. With his impressive leathery wings to steady him, the young dragon is easily able to stay balanced while he stretches his powerful hindlimb backwards. He splays out his clawed toes and lightly dabs his leathery black foot pads in the hot thick liquid a couple of times, then raises the great clawed foot up awkwardly behind him and examines its underside thoughtfully. After a moment's consideration he exclaims, "Hey, that's pretty weird! When they're your juices I don't like them on me, but when they're my own, it's okay." With a laugh that invites Ahastar to join, the dragon plunges his great paw back down into the steaming puddle and twists his ankle left and right, generously coating his padded sole with dragon seed and splaying his long toes to admit it between them. A hellish surge of weight on Ahastar's lower body signals the lifting of that newly-wettened paw and as its glistening black sole swings down over the hysterical half-demon, Bolt lets it hover like an executioner's axe and grins down at Ahastar, smugly splaying his clawed toes to make webs of thick fluid stretch between them. Firmly and very deliberately, the dragon steps down and seals the head and chest of his little victim tightly under the crushing weight of his great back paw. Hot, burning dragon seed spreads and squirts out under the pressure, squeezing into the creases and contours of Ahastar's body and creeping into his bodily orifices as the weight shifts again and Bolt lifts his other foot to similarly immerse its padded sole in the steaming puddle behind him. In a matter of seconds, the half demon is totally buried underfoot once more, the dragon standing tall and glorious upon his tiny victim, head curled down to look with interest at his own hind paws while his toes splay and clench, leaving wet streaks over the visible portions of the squashed raptor.

Ahastar indeed offers a broad palette of sounds yet again, a lot of groaning, whimpering, squashing and squeezing, and surprisingly little crunching. That though only comes from the half demon's skeleton already being well destroyed, the added cracks and shattering splinters mainly coming from bones that have already turned to fragments beneath these very reptilian padsoles that now steamroll him forwards and backwards. Wouldn't the half demon have the mouth full either with draconic toes or trampled moss, he surely would feel the urge to puke up his guts! But no, with things being as they are, the only thing coming upwards are Ahastar's shaky little handpaws, beggingly flopping over a draconic toe here or trying to shove against the tyrant-dragon's heel at the other and. Of course the two monstrous paws simply keep flattening him until he nearly turns insane, pressing his body so deep into the tough, coarse pads and grinding, scratching sole-scales that the half demon's entire upper body stays glued to Bolt's slowly rising sole, only loudly peeling off with a smacking, resounding "SCHLLLRRRKKKK!" when his trample tormentor steps his hind paw back, playing with his own draconian fluids. Given that Bolt stands gruesomely one-footed on top of Ahastar's lower body, the raptor has VASTLY more pressing problems than looking over at the unnerving, slimy noises to his right. The half demon can barely register the dragon's talking from so high above, every now and then getting a glimpse upon that 35 feet high tower of doom, packed in armored scales, wide spread wings offering a threatening shade. Yet the vast majority of the raptor's attention goes straight to the hind-paw Bolt keeps crushingly on top of his victim! The cushioning moss does little to aid the half demon. He hugs around the young dragon's heel and ankle. He pounds at it with his fists. He desperately scratches at it. He bangs his snout at it. He even tries to lift the entire dragon off of him, but eventually opts with planting his handpaws on his own head, ripping out some neck feathers with rising, flattening insanity and finally bowing over to puke up fresh, hot, red blood. Ahastar finally , ripping out some neck feathers with rising, flattening insanity and finally bowing over to puke up fresh, hot, red blood. Ahastar finally collapses back into his grave of moss, violently shivering and opening his eyes for the first time ever since Bolt has started to stand on him - just in time to peer aaaaall over the young dragon's see-coated foot, dripping down all over his gasping little muzzle. "Nrrrghh... nghhhh!", is all the half demon can offer for begging, his handpaws rising up to press and push against his captor's padded sole. But it does not care! Like a living trash compactor, the beast's immense foot slowly creeps down, makes sound and solid contact with Ahastar's upper body - and then heavily treads the features out of the half demon's face, only to fill the gaps back up with slime so hot it makes the raptor's skin scald! The fiery shock of pressure and heat barely registers in Ahastar's flat brain before his lower body suffers the same fate. For the first time in nearly two hours, the raptor's cloaca is filled back up with seed. Just not his own.

The posing young dragon grins toothily at the gurgling protestations from under his pads and says, "There, see? It's not so bad! Nice and warm like a little raptor bath." He gives a snort of amusement and turns to look behind him at the puddle of dragon seed, two large three-toed footprints gradually disappearing in the thick, creeping fluid. "And there's still loads left," he adds, turning back to look down at the protruding parts of his thoroughly flattened trample toy. "So don't worry if we use all this up!" The great sleek dragon pulls his head back regally and flares his wings to their full impressive span, then closes his eyes and slowly wipes his left paw back over Ahastar's tiny head and chest, rolling and crumpling his broken forelimbs as the huge slickened foot pads rub slowly over them. The quiet slick noise of wet pads agaisnt soft, flacid scales gives way to more vocal protestations as the head of the raptor is lifted from the squelching moss and pulled slickly out of the big wet pads of the seed-coated dragon sole to flop free, but Bolt only swings his great hindlimb forward and smilingly treads back down on the little head and chest to bury it again with a crackle and a quiet squelch, and he shifts his weight to slowly wipe his other great back foot over Ahastar's lower body. A deep, throbbing purr begins to rumble its way through the huge body of the big quadroped as he stands on top of his tiny raptor toy, pressing Ahastar straight down through the moss and spreading him out flat against the rock beneath eighteen tons of regal, muscle-packed dragon. His sleek bronze scales bulge powerfully as Bolt sways his huge body gracefully left and right and slowly wipes his great padded feet over Ahastar, one after the other, stroke after slow, smug stroke. Wide streaks of steaming fluid spread across the squashed white raptor and slicken the moss around him in two broad, long-smeared dragon footprints as the huge scaly paws of the reared-up predator relentlessly wipe their hot, glistening soles alternately over Ahastar. "You make a good dragon doormat, little guy," comments the smirking drake as he sways leisurely left and right on high; and he turns his head to look back at the remnants of the puddle behind him. "Tell me when you want some more, okay? I wouldn't want my pads to get too dry and start scraping those poor little raptor scales away." And he snickers rather insincerely.

"Nice and warm" indeed. The vile fluid creeping into Ahastar's sensitive mucus membranes both in his face and cloaca actually throws small heat blisters from the still raging hot fluid, forcing the thoroughly flattened and squash-deformed half demon beneath Bolt's merciless tread to shiver and tremble in pain - quite a tormenting ordeal with all this mass of clawed dragonfeet on top of completely obliberated flesh! Ahastar barely managed to get his desperate shaking and thus the grinding of bone fragment against bone fragment back under control, when Bolt begins to puuuRRRRrrrrrr on top of him like a nuclear battleship engine. Of course that also means that the raptor's broken form begins to shudder as well, together with the entire rest of his currently small and dense universe. Where the half demon at first was a protesting, rivaling and complaining mess of bunched up scales, he now has taken on the stance of a suitingly worshipping dragon doormat: Flat down on his back, legs and arms that wide spread that a bystander lacking any empathy would describe it as "lovingly hugging the dragon's soles", snout turned completely to the side to offer generous facial trampling area and cloacal lips spread wide enough to allow draconic pad-scales to comfortably rattle straight through the ultra sensitive organic opening. And right when Ahastar is sure that his body has been imprinted with Bolt's sole profile both belly- and backside, his spine touching the cool surface of pure rock beneath the moss, the young dragon starts to mercilessly wipe his first foot! The good news is that with the beast's seed, the usually rasp-coarse soles of his reptilian paws feel a lot more smooth and will probably NOT immediately skin Ahastar alive with their eighteen tons behind them. The bad news is that both of the trample tormentor's feet now feel like three toed branding irons the size of the raptor's entire body unfolded, and then some. Slowly but surely, Bolt turns into a nice doormatting rhythm. RRRRRTSCH! Ahastar's head stays utterly glued to the dragon's sole, not dropping off of it during the entire circular motion of wiping, lifting and retreading. RRRRRRTSCH! Ahastar's lower body dangles uselessly in the air, carried only on a few thick strings of off-white, steaming fluids, before being trampled down once again. RRRRRRRRTSCH! The saurian snout stays pressed absolutely flat inside of its massive print this time, lifting up on its own muscles, turning to the side and puking up a vile mix halfway white and halfway red, before briefly opening a crushed red eye that can't even close fast enough before it is SLAMMMM-trampled upon again with the entire rest of the skull. Ad neck. And chest. And both arms. RRRRRRTSCH! Ahastar's tail-end slips off of Bolt's wiping talon, violently climaxing and rolling backwards into the mossy trample pit in a way that testifies the loss of all raptorian vertebra. CCCRRRRUUCNNNH! Bolt's facial paw suddenly loses nearly 3 inches of elevation, but of course it is not worried about that. RRRRRRRTSCH! When Ahastar' face sees sunlight again, it is heavily abrased and lightly smoking from friction. Gurgling something, the raptor's broken finger points towards Bolt's remaining puddle.

It takes the carefree young dragon several minutes to deem his twitching sizzling victim worthy of another glance and by this time, the heavy black pads of the crushing paws are not only dry, but sticky with the remnants of the vile fluid with which they remorselessly coated Ahastar. The friction of each wipe is intensely, terrifyingly intense, and the scratching, scraping tearing noises that accompany them signify flesh being pulled off bones as much as pads rubbing against scales. Bolt opens his eyes and snorts in amusement, turning his head to follow the wild gesturing of the broken foreleg that strains frantically out from behind the curving arch of his scaly foot. "What, you want some more already?" He rips up his head-covering paw and lifts it up behind him to examine its sole. "Hey, cool, it's all gone! Okay then, just wait there," he snickers down at the pinned, half-squashed raptor, then flaps his wings and steps back to smear and grind his great hind paw in the still-steaming puddle before stepping quickly forward again and plunging his newly-dripping sole down over Ahastar's upper body. "There," he croons softly. "Much better." And after coating the sole of his other paw, Bolt readopts his regal posture - head pulled back, eyes closed, chest puffed out - and begins wiping anew. The dragon's thick, heavy seed is rubbed remorselessly into the twitching, gurgling body of the trampled raptor, slow, heavy wipe after wipe running smoothly over him while the rumbling purr throbs down through the hot, slick soles upon him. The padded walking section of one great digitigrade foot always clamps Ahastar down, keeping half his pitifully inferior body plunged down in the thick moss and spread out flat against the cave floor beneath in a thoroughly posessive and hope-shattering way: there is absolutely no escape from under the dragon's paws. Whenever Bolt lifts a back paw to swing it forward for another stroke, a steaming, slickened half-demon is revealed in the shadow beneath it, Ahastar's scales glossy with the dragon's bodily fluid and striped with broad toe streaks. Gradually the moisture seeps away again; absorbed into the moss or rubbed into the fleshy parts of Ahastar's body or simply evapourated in the heat, and the heavy black foot pads of the dragon grow once more coarse and rasping, tugging painfully at Ahastar's flacid hide as they continue to wipe forcefully across him and pulling off scales left, right and centre.

Ahastar's soul very much assumed that this torture to come would be an absolutely pride-shattering nightmare, and indeed, Bolt's merciless dragonfeet wipe every last iota of dignity and meaning out of the severely trampled, pinned raptor beneath his towering 35 feet of height. But the whimpering, cowering half demon would never have thought how physically destructive this smooth, sooth and almost "gentle" torture of his trample tormentor would wrap up to be. First of all, there is the crushing weight, of course. Bolt constantly has to shift from hindpaw to hindpaw, thus annihilating either Ahastar's upper or lower body with his eighteen gruesome, one-footed, balancing tons, enough to pulp bone and stomp organs completely flat. Then there is the wiping itself. Ever since the young dragon's soles managed to grind the sizzling hot fluid completely off upon either the raptor or the surrounding moss, the monstrous reptilian paws have turned that rough, rasp and coarse again that each single stroke sends scales, hide and flesh flying beneath Bolt's wiping heels. And it is always the same piece of saurian hide he is wiping over, too. The gruesome result is easily visible upon Ahastar's face: A few parts of it by now are ground down to the very much exposed skull, offering it to the not so gentle kiss of hot air! The worst part though is the combination of both these actions, so much more than the sum of their parts. The brutal shifting of weight crushes muscles and bone, thus robbing Ahastar of ANY means left to him to defend himself from the upcoming wiping. And since the skull-and-groin-cracking padfeet of the young dragon completely bust Ahastar's physical construction, they are free to wipe their own idea of how a raptor body should be formed down into the hysterical little living doormat. Of course, a dragon foot itself is insanely dangerous to be wiped down by to begin with. At first, there is the heel. Rock hard and just as rough in Bolt's case, and always the part he *hammers* into Ahastar's face after having lifted up again. Then comes the eeeeeeeendless scaled sole and the coarse, leathery walking pad, the main offender to the half demon's desire of keeping his skin, followed by a battering, long toe. Its tough-scaled sole feels like a hundred little planes with worn out blades, all rattling over Ahastar's skull like a little army. This is followed up by another face-stealing toepad and then, for the great finale, a monstrous claw that could completely hug around the Deinonychus' skull! Every single time the one of Bolt's feet wipes the wit, hopes and intellect out of Ahastar, the whimpering, screeching half demon has a split second to get his eye or cloaca out of the way, before Bolt's razor sharp talon tip rips out the offending organ. In fact, the scratched up, halfway bare skull of the demon would make for a veritable chess board by now, with all the scratched in claw marks. And, given how much the mentally destroyed raptor begs and poses and WHIMPERS for Bolt to not stop trampling him, but PLEASE soak his draconic feet once more, the question about whom of the two partners is checkmate does never arise. When the half demon has to behold his tormentor's feet rising and coming for him again, freshly coated in a new veil of thick, white and still lightly steaming slime, the raptor's face disappears into the mess of smeared scales and solid pads not only loudly gurgling, but also with a crying and insanely laughing eye. And sure enough, the ordeal starts anew! RRRRRTSCH! RRRRRTSCH! RRRRRTSCH! Bolt picked up pretty much the entire rest of the available dragon-seed, but with all of his tons distributed on so little flesh, it doesn't take long before the switching, reptilian paws send complete patches of skin flying out behind their heels, together with broken scales that were crushed by nothing but swaying, staggering, gutting weight.

The generous puddle of thick white slime spurted forth from the impressive body of the young dragon diminishes only slowly, Bolt growing careful as he moistens his sole pads for a third, then fourth, then fifth time. As he swings his great limb backwards the sixth sime to carefully mop up the last soggy remnants of dragon seed from the cave floor, Bolt says, "You know, I'm gonna have to remember how good you are at this, little guy. You're a super absorbant raptor!" He steps engulfingly back down over Ahastar's head and swings his other leg backward to rub away any remaining moisture from the rock, then treads back on the tiny theropod and shifts his weight from side to side in a playful manner continuing, "You can be my cave cleaner - how about that? Whenever I need to relieve myself, you can lie down in the puddle and I'll trample you 'till it all goes away." He snickers at the sound of this and begins turning his tremendous body through ninety degrees, planting his great black-soled paws here and there on the crushed, steaming raptor until he stands with both plunged down over Ahastar's face, their toes sunk into the moss beyond his skull and their sleek, raised arches and narrow, digitigrade heels looming menacingly over the crushed, crippled body length of the half-demon. His purr not letting up for a moment, the contented dragon smirks to himself and begins leisurely wiping his huge scaly feet down the length of Ahastar's tiny form for the last time, rubbing them heavily over him like two great steamrollers. From the very side of his face, the thick black foot pads of the wiping paw sweep gracefully inwards to move inline behind the planted one and rasp slowly down Ahastar's squashed body, stretching the raptor out forcefully and crushing him from head to tailspade in a single smooth, leisurely wipe before peeling up from the moss behind Ahastar's tail and swinging forward to tread back on his face and allow the other great scaly foot to slowly wipe him down. The dragon is relentless and efficient, using the tiny theropod as a living doormat for slow, dragging minute after minute until all traces of moisture have long since vanished from the great soles of the reared-up dragon. At length, Bolt lifts his powerful hindlegs up behind him and inspects their padded undersides, then finally he consents to drop back down onto all fours and strut smugly off the decimated raptor.

After the second time Bolt so viciously abused him as a draconic doormat, Ahastar was already desperately trying to roll out of that patch of horror the nearly completely trampled flat and torn apart moss had become. The half demon didn't think about that move - his brain was simply that convinced that this torture couldn't possibly go on now, his body absolutely mangled, that the option for a THIRD round didn't even enter his mind. Even after the young dragon placed the first two mercilessly wipes on top of the half demon's pulped flesh, Ahastar still commanded his muscles to move and roll out of the wiping pit. Of course, his flesh didn't answer. Most of the muscles he would have required to turn over are already laying down on the cave floor roughly fifteen feet behind Bolt's wiping paws. And at that point, Ahastar simply gives up. Something deep down in his soul and will just shatters into a thousand pieces beneath the dragon's next battering padfoot's stomp, then being ground out of his system with the next few wipes. All struggling stops - at least the willing, fighting one. Ahastar's movements are reduced to reactions. Heaving, trembling neck muscles the moment Bolt's heel crashes into Ahastar's face like a reptilian pile driver. A Deinonychus skull, torn apart, that rises high in order to puke out a new flood of gut pieces and blood. Legs that twitch as if they would develop a life of their own every time the saurian is forced into a violent, bleeding orgasm beneath his draconic trample torturer. Oh how much Bolt's pad pet wishes that his own climaxes would soak the dragon's paws enough to make them smooth once more, for the cruel beast towering on top of his completely flattened flesh easily wipes three times as long as a single, fresh coating with dragon-seed lasts, by now sending muscles and nerves and even a few first layers of organic tissue flying. Finally, after Bolt having added no less than five gruesome, hellish wiping rounds over the course of an hour, the raptor beneath his sadistic, steaming hot dragonfeet is barely alive any more. Wouldn't it be for that little remaining, sentient spark inside of Ahastar's eyes - so full of humble, insanity, pain and endless, burning rage and hatred - Bolt would be sure that he already trampled his plaything to death. The last of the young dragon's worries vanish the moment he stomp-turns, reared up, right on top of his victim. "AURGH! OOOOOF! GLLOOORGH! UNNNGH! ARRRGLLL!" It is amazing how vocal a completely broken apart raptor still can be, even though by now one can look into his mouth even when he closes his jaws. There is a stumpy little raptor arm poking, shivering up in between one of the dragon's now dual face-crushing hind-feet's toecrotches, but with no muscle to move it and no bone to keep it, it quickly drops back down again. RRRRRRTTTSCCHHHHH! The young dragon's first, hellish full-body-wipe almost completely rips the tail off of Ahastar's torso, the counter-foot of the immense beast finishing the job one wipe and a hundreds of flying scales later. RRRRRRTSCH! RRRRRRTSCH! RRRRRTSCH! With all the new ground to cover and only very little seed-smear left, Bolt wipes his hind paws dry within a few moments, leaving nothing but harsh, punishing dragonsole behind. With Ahastar's weak, nearly mortally damaged condition, the doormatting turns into flesh-tearing. And so it is not surprising the young dragon that, once he turns back with that smug, cruel grin of his after WHUMPETING down to his front feet and regally stepping off of his bashed in doormat, he finds Ahastar's body in a VERY dead condition. He trampled his pad pet to a quarter of its initial girth and then wiped two thirds of that remaining mass off of the raptor. In fact, Bolt right now has a difficult time saying if his doormat was resting on its back or front during the last round. The young dragon probably wants to reach for something interesting to read on right now - for Ahastar will need quite a bit to regenerate.

Out of my ten years of roleplaying, this is easily one of my favorite scenes of all time. Thanks again for playing that one out, my excellent friend!

((Random bit of knowledge: This RP is what inspired me for my "Dragonthrone" picture))

Wow, that's exhausting is what that is.

I love your stories even if I cant read through them.

I agree with Blue. Your RPs always seem to be so long, I can't ever finish one all at once. I can't stare at one thing on a computer screen that long, and I wouldn't want to print it out for obvious reasons. I do love it though!

Erm, its more because I am not such a fan of someone being trampled to death and ground to paste in every horrible graphic Ahastar-y level of beyond-limits painful detail you know.

They're best read in chunks, I always find. You'd have to be crazy to try and read this one all in one go - download it and dip in and out if you like it!

*tosses a glob of Ahastar-kruft at Blue's snout*

Rated R-aptor. Sorry, Blue.

*Your Kruft bounces off the snout's surface and comes back to you.*

Oh, that's fine Ahastar. I know yous love it.