The Lizard Lord's appetite

The fireplace was crackling softly, casting its dancing light on the face of the Lizard Lord. The expression on it was slightly perturbed. Was he going to eat the man in the suit who was shivering from the fear, making a pool of sweat on the macadam floor of his castle? He did look tasty though. The very thought of him struggling in his belly brought back memories of happiness from his childhood.

Even as a small reptile he would scavenge the forests of central Romania in search for bugs to swallow. The lizard-man would swallow them whole, preferably cockroaches, in one fell swoop. Oh, how they skipped around in his tiny belly!
Unsurprisingly, the ages have passed since them. He grew large in size and his appetite followed. Way too many refugees that ran from the terror of the rising European Caliphate did not have the best of luck during their roaming in the forests of Transylvania. The lizard-man would hunt them down easily, whilst swaying of his huge body hardly made any noise.

But the last wave of the refugees that came was the most intriguing. By then, he already started to build his own shadowy castle, in order to rule over that backward gypsy hellhole that is called Romania. He welcomed a fleeing group of the individualists with his open arms, smirking from the excitement. Their leader had smug demeanor, and he flapped his chubby hands that probed out of his ill-fitted suit, while explaining who they were. The lizard-man did not care, nor he understood well that posh British accent. One thing he knew, though - he would eat the smug bastard last.

The Lizard Lord’s flashback faded away and he was again in the present, looking at the pathetic chubby in front of him. The half-eaten body of Spinosaurus laid on the other side of the room. The Lizard Lord glanced it and again wondered – was it a boy or was it a girl? The long hair on its scalp made it even more confusing. Nobody knew and nobody cared.

The German torturer was standing right behind the chubby man who started to nervously chuckle, aware of the presence of the madman behind him. The German had nipple-clamps on, with a constant electricity running through, which made him hard and deadly. He had a set of torturing tools ready which would make any sodomite blush. The only job he had was to create a show for his lord, to make him more eager to eat. The problem that the Lizard Lord did not anticipate was the ability of the individualists that he ate alive to flock together in a group, thus making him constipated. That was the reason he wondered whether he should eat the man with a laughable suit in front of him or not.

The chubby man raised its head and spoke, trying to hide smugness which emanated from his words even now: “If you let me go, I could make your dominion even more glorious. I was a famous politician once, back then when the Caliphate was not in its full sway.”
The Lizard Lord turned his full attention towards the man. After a moment of contemplation which seemed as the eternity to the chubby, he yelled to the German: “Troutfried! Get the tools ready!”. He was going to have stomach problems for days, but he could not listen the man’s voice any second longer.