Chapter Text
They returned from the village without a word, the corpse dragging behind Phantom.
The baker woman’s body was bound at the ankles, her limbs bouncing limply over stones, roots, and broken branches.
Link slumped in front of Ganondorf on the saddle, barely upright. It had been less than three hours, but the whole experience had drained him. His body trembled with exhaustion, his face blotchy and streaked with tears that hadn’t yet dried.
As they approached the castle, the gloom thickened. The sky turned a pale purple, and the air grew warmer.
Ganondorf’s body thrummed with energy. The cries of the villagers still echoed in his memory—sweet and satisfying.
He hadn’t laughed like that in days. And Link… oh, Link had been a sight. Shaking, crying and fighting not to scream.
Once they reached the front gate, the Gerudo dismounted swiftly and turned to tug the bloodstained rope from the saddle.
Link, trying to preserve a shred of self-worth and forgetting how massive the warhorse was, attempted to dismount on his own.
He slipped.
Ganondorf caught him easily, one strong arm around his waist. Without a word, he set him down gently, allowing the boy a fragment of dignity.
He then turned and patted the horse’s thick neck and gestured lazily toward the corpse.
“Go on,” he said. “You’ve earned her.”
Phantom neighed low in her throat and descended on the body with a hunger that disturbingly reminded Link of his lord.
Her massive jaw crunched down on the woman’s neck, lifting her with ease.
Link stared for a long moment, his face crumpling as fresh tears welled in his eyes.
Ganondorf noticed, of course. He turned slowly toward the boy, his eyes narrowed—not in anger, but in fascination.
“She feels no pain, boy. She’s already dead,” the Gerudo lord said plainly, as though they hadn’t been the ones to make her so.
Link shook his head, mute. His lip quivered.
Ganondorf stepped closer, tilting his head, studying him like a curious puzzle.
With a flick of his wrist, Phantom trotted off, the corpse dangling from her jaws like a bundle of hay.
He reached out, brushing a tear from Link’s cheek with his thumb. He smeared it across the boy’s skin with deliberate gentleness. “You’re covered in blood,” he said. “Could you not have dodged the viscera?”
Link trembled.
“Come,” the warlord said, spreading his arms in a mockingly sweet invitation to be carried.
Link’s breath hitched—torn between humiliation and something deeper.
He shook his head.
Ganon chuckled. “You’re standing on your own two feet tonight,” he teased, clearly pleased.
Then he extended his hand instead, waiting.
“I denied you the privilege of holding my hand before this outing,” he said. “Only a strong, loyal hero earns the right to take it. And today… I’m impressed, my love.”
Link hesitated. He wanted to, but…
“I see your love for your king is conditional,” He added, the teasing tone laced with something darker.
Link shook his head quickly, unsure if the warlords words were said in disdain.
His master could be so cruel.
Link placed his hand in Ganondorf’s gauntleted palm. The grip was firm. Link didn’t resist—he simply let his hand be taken, head bowed and silent.
They passed through the fortress gates just as the sun dipped behind the cliffs. Guards stepped aside, eyes respectfully lowered, as the King of Thieves and his hero returned from their grim errand.
They walked the long corridors in silence, the last light of day spilling through the gloom, catching on the stained glass windows.
Link’s heartbeat pulsed in his throat. He could feel the heat rolling off Ganondorf’s body. The Gerudo’s hand still held his—not tightly, but possessive.
By the time they reached Ganondorf’s chambers, the silence had grown unbearable. He shoved the heavy doors open with one hand, the force more than necessary. He yanked the Hylian inside, only stepping in after him.
Inside, the air was warm and familiar. Shadows crept across fur-draped furniture and velvet throws. The king liked his chambers dim.
Said King stood in front of the entrance, like a wall of muscle and iron guarding the only way out.
The Hylian didn’t think his master realized how utterly predatory he was.
“How would you like to continue, Link?” Ganon’s voice was low and husky.
“Shall we forgo the bed and I take you on the cold stone floor?” the Gerudo asked, grin crooked. “Shall I keep my armour on?”
The smaller stared in silence.
Ganon took a step forward.
Link stepped back—pure instinct. He didn’t even realize he’d done it.
“Still pretending to be afraid and upset?” He asked- amusement in his voice.
He looked Link over slowly, golden eyes sweeping across him. The boy’s blood-matted hair, the dirt smeared across his tunic, the tears and sweat — all of it. He looked wrecked.
“I granted your little request,” the warlord murmured, stepping in closer. “Do you blame me now for the villager’s choices? Or are you just ashamed… because some sick part of you enjoyed their punishment.
His smile turned cruel.
Link dropped his gaze and shook his head.
“Then what?” Ganon’s voice came again, quieter now. Meaner.
Link met his eyes again, but only for a second—just long enough for the king to see him squirm ever so slightly.
“Enough of this,” the Gerudo growled. “Come here.” He lunged.
Link’s heart slammed in his chest as he dove sideways, slipping around the bed with a flash of movement. His body was running before his mind caught up.
Ganondorf gave a low, dangerous laugh. “Tch.”
He turned slowly, eyes tracking him, step by step.
“You going to run, little hero?” he asked.
Link didn’t answer. He couldn’t…
“Go on, then,” Ganon said. His eyes narrowed, glowing in the dim light. “Run.” He shouted as he took another step.
Link bit his lip and bolted across the mattress, smearing blood and grime across the sheets. He tried to make distance—but it didn’t matter. Ganondorf was already moving, following slowly and calmly.
“Faster,” Ganon taunted. “You want to be chased, don’t you?”
Link froze. Did he?
He sprang off the edge of the bed.
Too slow.
A gauntleted hand caught his ankle and ripped him back.
“You’re hard” Ganon snarled.
Link hit the mattress with a grunt, twisting to crawl away—but Ganon was already on top of him. He shoved him down, flipped him with brutal ease, and straddled him.
One massive hand closed around Link’s neck—not choking, but the threat was there.
Link gasped and grabbed at the arm with both hands, trying to pry him off.
“Pathetic little act,” Ganon growled. “You think struggling makes you feel less guilty?“
His grip tightened just enough to make Link stop squirming.
“I only wish to reward you,” the Gerudo said, voice low against the silence. “But you’re making it very hard for me to do that.”
Ganon leaned down, dragging the tip of his nose along Link’s jaw, inhaling the sweat and blood. “You stood beside me today. You obeyed. You gave the order. And now you run from the reward you earned?”
He pulled back just enough to look at him—really look.
The haze in Link’s eyes was undeniable.
“You think silence and tears hide it?” the warlord whispered.“You think I couldn’t smell your arousal the whole ride back?”
Ganondorf’s gauntlet slid from Link’s throat down his chest, then lower.
Trembling hands gripped the older’s arm. They followed, helplessly, as Ganon guided both their hands downward.
His fingers traced between Link’s legs, just barely grazing the hard length straining beneath blood stained fabric.
“You’re soaked. Again,” Ganondorf muttered.
His hand then sliding to the inside of Link’s thigh in a slow, possessive caress.
Golden eyes bore into him, and Link stared back—unmoving but Ganondorf said nothing, simply holding his gaze.
Link let his head loll to the side, dazed and confused by his master’s sudden pause.
“You see? You little vixen. You’re unconsciously waiting for the thorough fucking I have promised you….”
Link’s eyes widened—and there, the last flickers of resistance guttered out.
The demon king watched in silence—watched the fire drain from the smaller’s limbs, watched that familiar look bleed back into his eyes: obedience and need.
It was a beautiful sight.
Link’s fingers curled tighter around the Gerudo’s wrist—not to push him away, but to keep him there. Slowly, he guided the massive hand upward, pressing it to his cheek.
He gave a small shrug in answer then turned his face and kissed the warlord’s knuckles with soft, almost reverent fondness.
Ganondorf’s gaze darkened.
“There you are,” he murmured.
His voice was quiet now. “Our little trip overstimulated you, that’s all.”
Link couldn’t tell if he was being comforted… or mocked. He whimpered, eyes fluttering closed. It didn’t matter.
Ganondorf leaned in closer, breath warm against his skin.
“That’s all right,” he murmured. “I won’t punish you for your confusion.”
A beat passed, thick with heat.
“Undo your trousers, my love,” Ganondorf quietly ordered. “Let me see how hard you’ve gotten.”
The Hylian whimpered, releasing his master’s hand to fumble with the strings of his bottoms. His fingers trembled, clumsy with urgency and shame.
Ganon watched patiently.
Link’s cock sprang free, flushed dark red and already slick at the tip. He gave a light, instinctive press with his palm, but didn’t dare grip himself. That wasn’t his choice to make. His master would decide.
Ganondorf leaned in, eyes narrowing.
He lowered himself until his face was level with Link’s hips, studying every twitch, every vein, every drop.
“You know…” he said, voice low, almost conversational, “I’ve never tasted the spout of another man before.”
Link bit down on his lip, hard. Was his master going to-?
Ganon’s golden eyes flicked up to meet his.
“Would you like me to return the favour for this morning, Link?” he whispered.
The younger pulled up his tunic with trembling hands, baring himself completely—offering, pleading without words.
One hand slid up the boy’s chest and curled around his throat again, slow and possessive.
Then, without another word, Ganondorf’s mouth was on him—hot, wet, and all-consuming. The Hylian cried out the moment he was taken in, his back arching violently even before the Gerudo moved.
The Gerudo’s hand slightly tightened around his neck as he drew back, lips dragging along Link’s shaft with a firm, wet pull.
Link moaned, his hands flying to the warlord’s hair, burying his fingers in thick crimson strands. Ganondorf didn’t stop him. Didn’t even flinch.
He sucked like he stroked—hard, deep, and impatient. Every movement was deliberate, every pull brutal, like he meant to break Link with his mouth.
Link could barely think.
Pleasure ripped up his spine in violent pulses and he cried out like a man being tortured.
His hips tried to move, desperate to meet the King’s mouth, but Ganondorf’s other hand clamped down on his waist, forcing him flat against the bed.
He wasn’t allowed to thrust. He wasn’t allowed to take. He was only allowed to receive.
Tears welled in Link’s eyes. It felt too good—too much. The brutal suction had his cock, aching, and dripping with overstimulation. It hadn’t even been a full minute, and already he could feel release building fast in his gut.
Even with the roles reversed—mouth on cock instead of cock inside—Ganondorf still dominated him completely.
A sudden thought hit Link like lightning:
What if his master decided to use himself—to ride Link like a throne, taking every inch of him in. Dear Hylia! What would become of his hips!
The fantasy sent a sick, sweet swell through his balls, tightening them painfully.
At that exact moment, the pressure around his neck increased. Ganondorf’s hand squeezed—tight enough to cut off most of his air.
Link arched in panic and ecstasy. His hands flew to Ganon’s wrist again, but there was no strength in them. His legs trembled beneath the warlord’s weight.
Then Ganon pulled away from his cock, rising from between his thighs, never breaking rhythm. His fist took over, stroking him with relentless pressure, while his hand remained locked around the Hylian’s throat.
Link’s whimpers came out broken, choked and strangled. His vision blurred at the edges. His whole body burned.
He struggled for just a moment more before it hit—violent and overwhelming.
The orgasm ripped through him, stealing sound from his throat and strength from his limbs.
Ganondorf released his neck just as Link came, angling his cock perfectly and the Hylian’s own release sprayed across his face and lips in hot, messy streaks.
Link gasped, finally able to breathe again. His chest heaved with each breath, his muscles twitching from the intensity.
He felt like he was floating, pleasure still crawling under his skin. The world tilted a little as he blinked through the haze.
“Good boy,” the king murmured.
Link could barely process the words—he felt too dazed and warm. He sucked in another shaky breath, trying to bring himself back into his body.
Above him, Ganondorf moved with purpose, slowly loosening the belts around his waist. The sound of leather sliding through metal loops filled the tense air.
The ginormous bulge beneath Ganondorf’s codpiece was impossible to ignore, straining and intimidating.
Link couldn’t look away.
Ganondorf eased the fabric aside, freeing himself. His massive, dark cock dropped, the sheer weight of it making it fall between Link’s thighs with a heavy thud. Heat radiated off it in waves, and pre cum already spilled from its thick, swollen tip.
“You see what you do to me?” the warlord muttered, not even sparing Link a glance—his voice rough, almost breathless.
“You tremble. You cry. And still—” he jerked his chin toward his thick, leaking cock, “This is what you reduce me to.”
Link let out a desperate, broken mewl. He could already feel the heat pooling in his groin once again.
Ganon swiftly lifted one of Link’s legs, gripping the back of his thigh and pushing it up until his bottom was fully exposed. Link’s other leg hovered uncertainly, unsure of where to go or what to do.
The warlord used his other hand to pry the smaller’s cheeks apart, revealing a small, swollen orifice—pink, tight, and waiting for him. It twitched, and Ganon abruptly exhaled from his nose.
“You’ll be full soon,” he muttered, speaking more to the opening than to Link himself.
He spread Link wider, then spit directly onto the exposed flesh. His finger glided over the sensitive pucker and Link moaned for him.
He pushed the boys thigh’s back further until he could grip the younger’s hips, lifting him so that his face hovered just above his rear.
He pried the soft cheeks apart again and breathed in the scent.
Delectable. The little hero smelled absolutely divine.
His cock pulsed painfully, and he let out a low, frustrated grunt. He stared at the tight, trembling entrance.
He wanted to press his mouth to it—wanted to push his tongue in deep and taste everything the boy had to offer.
And yet he had already stooped lower than he ever imagined—had already taken the boy’s cock between his lips…
Was the Great Demon King truly so far gone that he was now desperate enough to lap at the hero’s hairless ass?
Link whimpered, twisting in the warlord’s grip, his cock already chubbing up once more—small hands searching blindly for something-anything on Ganondorf to hold onto.
The hero with the soul of a saviour was now trembling in his arms, waiting for him to use him for his own benefit—praying that his intentions were rooted in pleasure alone… and that he wouldn’t bite.
He had full control of the boy. Why fight his urges?
No one would know that behind closed doors the great Demon King’s obsession with the small hero was all-consuming. No one would see if he gave in—if he buried his face there, if he worshipped the boy the way he craved to.
Ganondorf gave in, burying his thick tongue deep into the already slick opening.
His groan rumbled against Link’s skin as he dug in deeper, carving a place for himself inside the trembling cavern.
Link gasped, shuddering as the king’s powerful tongue lapped greedily at his tight inner walls, tasting everything.
Every stroke dragged fire through his belly.
His cock was flushed dark red, leaking steadily onto his stomach, twitching with every hungry lick deep inside him.
The king growled like he was feasting—wet, obscene sounds filling the air. He was relentless with his tongue, focused solely on gutting the poor boy. He didn’t look up—his mind consumed with how to take more.
Link lay helpless, his moans loud and strange—high and desprate. For a breathless moment, he truly thought he was being eaten alive from the inside.
He was going to come—he could feel it, his balls tight, the pressure unbearable.
But just as it crested, Ganondorf withdrew his tongue and sealed his mouth over Link’s hole, lips tight and merciless.
Then he sucked. Hard.
Instantly cutting his orgasam at its start. Link hissed in pain and unsatisfaction.
“Not yet” he heard the warlord grumble before he sealed his mouth over Link’s pucker once again.
Link almost screamed. The king’s mouth was unrelenting, pulling at his swollen, sensitive rim with punishing force. His whole body shook with the sting of overstimulation.
When Ganondorf finally pulled back with a slow, wet drag of his lips, he revealed a swollen, spit-slicked pucker—twitching, open, and begging to be filled.
Without a second thought, he lowered the dazed Hylian onto the bed—only for Link to hiss once more as his back met the cooling puddle of the warlord’s own spilled pre seed.
Ganondorf climbed over him, his massive thighs boxing Link in. The weight of him was overwhelming and suffocating, like he could crush him without effort. And indeed, he could.
The Hylian’s body was already folded beneath him—open and exposed.
The warlord smirked, eyes fixed on Link’s seed-smeared face with satisfaction. He had never taken him like this before and he intended to savor every second.
Ganondorf’s thick cock lay heavy and twitching against his own, the heat of it radiating between them. Link moaned at the sight. His master was monstrous in size, and the contrast made his own hardness twitch with shame.
Without a word, Ganon lifted his hips and wrapped one large hand around his own seething shaft, guiding it toward Link’s stretched, battered entrance.
The angle was cruel. When the blunt head pressed against him, Link cried out and squeezed his eyes shut.
The initial breach always burned, but like this—beneath the full weight of the king—it was unbearable.
The push was slow and punishing. Ganondorf sank in inch by inch, forcing his way through the tight heat that fought against him.
Tears pricked the corners of Link’s eyes. His voice cracked in a broken moan.
He couldn’t take it all in this position—he knew it, and he was sure Ganondorf did as well but that didn’t stop the warlord from pushing deeper.
“It will fit,” Ganondorf growled. “You’ll stretch. You always do.”
The warlord leaned closer, golden eyes glowing. “You’ve earned this. A thorough breeding. You won’t be walking tomorrow.”
Link sobbed, his cock rock hard, twitching helplessly beneath the weight of his master.
“Cry all you want,” Ganon whispered. “You know what’s coming. One thrust… and you’ll be moaning like a bitch in heat.”
“You’ll paint yourself with your own seed before I even finish inside you.”
Link’s hips jerked at the words. The humiliation only made it worse. His cock strained upward, leaking freely.
With a guttural grunt, Ganondorf slammed down. The air was ripped from Link’s lungs as he was impaled—balls slapping against balls, skin hitting skin.
His tongue lolled from his mouth, a low, broken pant spilling out as he stared wide-eyed at the face above him—his king, grinning with cruel pleasure.
Ganondorf didn’t move. He just stayed there, buried to the hilt, letting Link feel the full weight of it. The stretch and the fullness.
“The mating press,” the warlord whispered, voice like gravel. “How fitting… for someone like you.”
Ganondorf’s cock bulged through the lower part of Link’s stomach, a visible imprint beneath his sun kissed skin. Link stared in shaken awe, drool spilling from parted lips. The pain was exquisite but this time- he was certain!- His master had gone too deep. He was certain of it. He was ruined.
Link gasped at his thoughts, his fingers scrabbling helplessly at the sheets.
Ganondorf leaned down, bracing himself on either side of Link’s head
“You’re fine,” he growled, his voice low and commanding. “You can take it. You were made to.”
Link sniffled, barely able to hold his gaze. His whole body felt like it was being split open and remade around the king’s cock.
Ganon eyes focused on the younger’s red dripping member, His golden eyes, unblinking.
“You think this is too much?” he asked, almost mocking.
Without another word, the warlord lifted himself, his massive thigh muscles flexing with the effort.
Link bit his lip for the twentieth time that day.
Ganon was rising higher than necessary.
Oh dear Hylia, his master was going to plow through him!. Desperate, Link tapped his warlord’s knee with alarm—only to be met with deliberate silence.
His cock leaked again, streaks now trailing down to his chest.
Ganon paused as the head of his cock pulled at the bruised ring of Link’s sphincter.
Link curled his toes tightly…
Then Ganon’s next thrust slammed down hard and heavy—he crashed balls deep into Link’s stretched tunnel without mercy.
Link’s cock exploded again, pressure driving his seed to spray wildly across his face, drenching his eyelashes with thick, hot come again.
Ganondorf moaned at the sight.
“What did I tell you?” he murmured through the moan, his voice cracking just slightly.
The ex-knight moaned along with him.
Link felt as though he was in another world—Ganon was truly his king, giving him everything he needed, everything he could ever want.
The Demon King rose again, then descended once more—heavy and powerful.
Link had never heard his master moan and groan so loudly. Though he lay powerless beneath him, he felt a twisted pride knowing his body could drag such raw sound from the king’s throat.
The Gerudo rose and fell—again and again—driving into the Hylian’s depths with nearly all his weight.
Link’s belly was bloated with pre, the pressure building with each relentless thrust. Every heavy motion forced another thick glob deeper inside him, stretching him further, fuller, until he felt he might burst.
Ganondorf was moving faster now, slamming into him with punishing force—like he meant to carve a space for himself deep within the Hylian’s body. His guttural grunts filled the chamber, brutal and animalistic.
Link closed his eyes in submissive bliss, surrendering completely. He was folded beneath his king, trapped under his weight.
This was his purpose. To serve. To obey. To stand by Ganondorf no matter what—no matter the cost. It was them against a world that didn’t understand his master’s power.
A particularly savage thrust tore a shout from his lips. Then another. And another. His belly ached now, painfully tight.
Then Ganondorf slammed in one final time and roared like a beast.
His thick release burst forward, pouring into the Hylian’s trembling body, bloating him with heat and weight.
“A full belly,” the king growled, panting heavily.
But he wasn’t done.
He rose again, withdrew slightly, and slammed back in—forcing a gush of cum to spill from Link’s stretched entrance. The mess didn’t deter him. If anything, it drove him harder.
He was not going to stop. And Link knew it.