39.2 p͏a͏t͏r͏e͏o͏n͏.c͏o͏m͏/S͏t͏r͏a͏t͏o͏t͏h͏r͏a͏x͏A͏f͏t͏e͏r͏D͏a͏r͏k͏

Ryoka didn't hesitate, her much smaller arm came down on the counter and her hand was enclosed by the much larger Oni's hand.

The battle started immediately, the Oni going for a quick ruthless win, aiming to crush her spirit. The teenager's arm was slammed downward, meteoring toward the stone surface, mere inches away.

But then Ryoka's flesh rippled, the thickness of her arm doubling in size, then doubling again, then tripling in density, then tripling again, her flesh roaring as it fought back, evolving in realtime to overcome her opponent.

Tarra's eyes became round in shock as the teenager's hand neared the surface, fractions of an inch away, and then came to a slow but inevitable stop.

The Oni fought back in a panic, her muscles bulging, twisting her entire body as she applied insane downward force, a hairline crack appearing in the stone, her other hand gripping the counter edge, a foot moving to apply more leverage in a desperate attempt to cheat, even pushing down over and over in slamming thrusts.

The Oni was of an immensely strong species, and she had a strength based Class too, one that synergized with her natural strength. That was her identity, what she had built her personality on, her uniqueness! She was the strongest!

But it didn't matter. To the Oni's horror the teenager's arm slowly began to rise. She was resisting her even with her cheating! With her everything!

"n-No- N-NO!" she gasped, her breath coming in pants, her whole near seven foot body shaking with exertion.

It just didn't matter. The teenager lifted her arm, up and up and up, and she could do nothing at all to stop it. The diminutive girl across from her was dominating her, completely and utterly in control.

Their hands reached the zenith and then with a small little smile Ryoka slammed down the Oni's hand so hard the other way that the stone counter split down the middle, splinters of stone spitting into the air with the brutal impact.

She held Tarra there for a moment. Pinning her in place just because she felt like it.

And then she let go.

The wild eyed Oni stumbled back, falling on her rump, scrambling back across the ground until her back slammed against the nearest counter.

She stared at her hand in disbelief.

She had been bested by a teenager, not even one that focused on strength as her main ability. She had been casually crushed like it was nothing. Her life's work, being the strongest, the best, now a pathetic little thing in the face of the bouncy giggly teenager.

A shadow fell over her and her head rose to find Ryoka, a look of glee on her face, and then she looked down to something else.

The teenager's crotch was about level with Tarra's head from where she sat, and so she had a perfectly framed view of the length that ran down from the teenager's groin to half way down her thigh, the teenagers hermaphrodite dick, something that all chameleokin females were naturally born with. The black unitard was so tight over the thing that every little bulge and vein was outlined on its surface. The exertion of arm wrestling had apparently gotten the teenage girl hard.

Ryoka didn't seem to care that her impressive bulge was so near the Oni's face, or maybe it was that she was doing it on purpose.

"I told you. You aren't anything compared to me, you're too slow and you're too weak Tarra. That's why you are now mine to do as I please with."

A hand darted out and an impossible strength gripped the Oni's horn. She found her head being dragged in and her face was suddenly pressed against the long bulge in Ryoka's black unitard. Pressed up against it she could only think of nothing but the feeling of its heat and stiffness against her cheek, her lips, unable to pull away as the teenager thrust herself against her face, biting her lip as she used the Oni's face for her own pleasure, rubbing her length up and down across her facial features.

Truly Tarra could do nothing, the teenager was just too strong.

She was the teenager's bitch.

She, a twenty nine year old, was this nineteen year olds junior.

If there was one small blessing it was that as a teenager the girl was on an extremely sensitive hair trigger and it didn't take long for Ryoka to ejaculate, little pearls of white beading through her unitard to roll down the black surface.

She moaned softly, eyelids fluttering. Then, before letting Tarra go, she wiped her cum across her face, marking her blue skin with long smears of sticky opaque white.

"Gosh I needed that, there's fuck all relief when we're out on campaign. Alexandria really needs to see about getting an auxiliary of whores for me to fuck or something." She sighed as she stepped away, leaving Tarra wide-eyed with shock.

It was just too much to deal with for Tarra. First she had been humiliated in wrestling, then she had been- she had been made submissive to a teenager! Used to get her off! A throwaway wank rag! Such a thing was something she had never experienced before, not even in the slightest.

Her tongue slipped from her lip as she thought about this and she tasted a little of the girl upon her face.

She froze. Why did she just do that?!? She screamed internally to herself. This was even worse than being used as a wank rag, she had now tasted Ryoka!

...Admittedly she tasted pretty goo- no! She quickly shoved the intrusive thought to the back of her mind, locking it in a box then chaining that box up never to be thought of again. Probably.

After a little while struggling with her new novel feelings, the Oni gathered herself, her heartbeat finally slowing. She climbed shakily to her feet.

The teenager had gathered food as she recovered and she found her eating. Already she had gone through four entire chickens and was devouring a fifth, an empty pot of stew and dozens of empty plates were scattered around her. She'd eaten everything the kitchen had to offer, all of the staff's food, there was nothing left.

Tarra nibbled her lip. The now dried cum on her face completely forgotten.

"We, uh, need to get going, we came here for a reason remember?"

"Hmm? What's that?"

"L-Lady Alexandria?"

"Ohhhhhh! I totes forgot about her, my baaaad."

The teenager lifted a gallon jug of mash potato and gulped it down in moments then tossed it aside, the porcelain shattering across the floor.

She stood and brushed by Tarra, practically knocking her over. A hand appeared above her shoulder and she beckoned for the Oni to follow, beckoning her like a pet.

After a moment Tarra followed.

The teenager led the two through the palace, room after deserted room, many in a bad state, some untouched.

It didn't take long to reach their destination. A library hall, one with part of a massive dragon head inside of it. They couldn't even see Alexandria's eyes, only her muzzle was inside, her mouth open, tongue lolling across the library, bookshelves and tables crushed beneath the thing.

Her breath fogged the air.

Ryoka stared at the sight. "Hey this is great and all but what the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

"With a dragoness? Nothing. You can't wake her no matter how strong you are," then lowering her voice and muttering darkly, "Despite being some cheating little lucker weasel."

"I could try, I bet I could adapt to it."

"Adapt to what? Adapt how?"

Ryoka didn't have an answer to that and looked a little annoyed.

She was about to teach the Oni another lesson when a sound came from the muzzle. A lot of sound.

The generals clapped their hands over their ears as the Dragoness moaned in her sleep, mumbled words forming and filling the air, bookshelves collapsing around them from the sheer vibration.

"N-nuuuu, s-shtop, noot in my pusseeeyyy, n-nuu morrrr!"

Came the stupendous slurred voice, sounding somehow cute in its sleepiness despite Tarra's eardrums feeling like they were on the verge of bursting.

The voice ended and the dragoness snuggled her head in the broken library, letting out a sleepy little sigh of satisfaction.

"Took me a sec to adapt to that," muttered Ryoka, wiggling a finger in her ear.

She had adapted to that too?! It just wasn't fair.

"I think that was a pretty obvious clue. We will find the answer as to why our Lady is asleep with… her…

"With her vagina." finished the teenager.

"Yes."

"Alright fine, then show me where that is. Walk."

Tarra gave her an irritated look but moved to do as she commanded. A lifetime in the legion listening to drill instructors wasn't for nothing. As she turned a smacking sound filled the air, a teenage hand slapping against her globular rear sending it bouncing behind her shorts.

She almost removed her club and smashed it over the teenager's head then and there, but she managed to control herself, no doubt that was what Ryoka wanted her to do, so she could physically humiliate her once again in a contest of strength.

Instead, she moved stiffly on.

This time they were more used to working their way around the half ruined palace, and the giant dragoness that filled it, and were able to travel from her head, down her neck, over her arms, under her wing, past her hips, then sneaking down below her knee they slipped between a gap where her tail lay under her thigh.

They came back up between her legs aiming for her crotch. It was there that a strange white fog started to fill the air, one that smelled tangy and heated, a fog that tickled the nose, and warmed the blood.

Tarra glanced at Ryoka and found she was having difficulty walking. Her unitard was tented out in front of her, her large seven inch erection pointing out directly in front of her hips making her silhouette appear absurd.

Was she harder than when she had used Tarra's face as a wank rag? What was causing her arousal?

"Are you okay?"

"Yes! Shut up!" said the flustered teenager, trying to push her raging erection down and failing.

They passed through into an aesthetically pleasing room, someone had apparently matched the furniture to the purple scaled thigh that filled one end of the space.

More interesting than that though was the moaning that had started filling the air, soft breathy sounds winding their way from the door at the end, and along with them a steady plap, plap, plap sound.

The two generals shared a look, hands moving to weapons, and then proceeded forward.

The next room was deserted too, a dining room with one wall broken down between. They stepped through the broken wall and came out in what appeared at first glance to be a marsh, a boggy fog-filled place, the air incredibly humid and warm.

Just through the fog could be seen towering purple walls on either side. It was the dragoness's thighs, and ahead at the ends of the thighs lay an even greater structure, an odd vast curving scaled surface cream in colour, one that reached up to the towering ceiling and to the sides, a great round soft shape that blocked vision of the rest of the great hall. Below the ground was puddled with something goopy and white and huge pillows were scattered across the room.

The two barely had eyes for any of this however as there were far more eye catching things to be seen, to be specific the hundred or so maids who were scattered across the room, each of them lying on enormous pillows varying in size from a couch to a wagon, the girls alone or slumped together in piles, their great heaving bellies taut and round, as though they were pregnant with octuplets or more, some even larger than that.