The city of Ailuunopolis was the central font of all wisdom and glory in the Kingdom of Ailuun.  Every child knew this from the day they came out of the egg, freshly-fuzzed with beautiful feathers as a sign of grace and purity.  All of this land knew and agreed that it was the sole testament and duty of every Ailuunian, to spread the word of their natural supremacy, and to Correct the non-feathered heathens whose existence were pitied.
Amongst the magnificent pillars of shimmering white, where grand skyscrapers reached high like majestic wings, the Ailuun glided between places or drove vehicles for transport on the suspended roads.  It was a true paradise of their making, and even the lowly Filshun, the unfeathered saurians who scurried in the depths, understood that their history was to be erased if it meant the world could advance.
But they were not the only race seen as degenerate in the vast world of Ailuun.  Along Kenners Lane was the Museum of Extinction, a beautiful domed building with vast doric pillars and flowing steps like a heavenly altar, framed on either side by statues of bold feathered raptors who stood on mountains of skulls.  In this place, one would bear witness to many paintings, translated documents and even the odd skeleton of a once-living creature.
	"Good gods," said a boxy-headed caudipteryx, "this place is...truly, every time I come here it is just...magnificent."
	"It certainly is," replied a deep-voiced archaeopteryx, "one of the first and most important foundations since the council enacted the Great Cleansing."
	"I think it was here I wanted to start my career...being the first and last to discover all of those blaspheming texts, it gives me such a thrill!"
	"Are you nervous for today's show?"
	"Ohoho no, I was on Populess you know, I'm an old hand at this by now!"
	"I thought I had seen you somewhere!  Loved that episode."
The caudipteryx had a green waistcoat over his rich blue feathers, a rounded forehead on a chicken neck and two winged arms that straightened his suit.  The archaeopteryx was a deep raven-black with a yellow beak, garbed in a crimson suit and standing a foot-and-a-half taller than his companion, as they walked through their legacy in the late hours of night.
	"I can't believe the old maps were correct," said the blue-feathered Ailuun, "you always think Here Be Dragons is something of a joke, and yet there they were in the Sandoori Sea!"
	"It was a remarkable find," said the taller one, "only made possible by the most advanced of our technology, mapping through the regular storms of that region which must have befuddled our ancestors."
	"Can we meet with the subject before filming?  I really want to know what degenerate outlook they have before we start."
	"Of course, we have time, Dr. Ingleson."
The head of the museum swept his winged arm and led on through the vast halls.  Each exhibit was separated in species rather than chronology, with none of the historical records preserved and what little was allowed only had praise for the Ailuunians, or denigrated their own species.  Skull fragments and burial sites were also available for "public interaction",  but the museum was currently closed so only the guards and curators were present in their duties.
Burly-feathered tyrannosaurs puffed up their feathers of pink beneath dark-blue uniforms, searching the halls for potential miscreants and giving curtsies to the professors.  At the back of the halls were the staff rooms, a winding set of corridors where storages were kept for ancient artifacts, that were either preserved or marked for destruction.  But one larger room had a special purpose, from which the smell of disinfectant wafted through with a cold sting.
	"Dr. Vogel," the T-rex guard bowed, "the exhibit's waiting for you."
	"Has it been well-behaved?"
	"Surprisingly, not a word nor a peep from the degenerate."
	"Good, much better than the last ones eh?"
	"Indeed, didn't even need my earplugs tonight, sir."
They laughed as they stepped through the door, into a well-lit surgery with a large central table, several smaller ones corralled to the side, a row of medical instruments set up on the wall, and a large dominating cage in the very back of the room.  Inside it was a beastly silver thing curled up by itself with a slender tail, its wings trapped against its body in leather-buckled sleeves.
	"Good evening," said Vogel, approaching, "how are you finding your last days, hmmm?  I know you can hear me, and that you understand me...your former consort said as much before we boiled his skin clean from his body."
The creature said nothing, keeping still as Ingleson approached to admire their new subject.  Under fluorescent lights, her scales shimmered with a lustrous gleam like a prize fish, enchanting the caudipteryx as he pulled out a notebook.
	"Fascinating," he murmured, "a cycloid system reminiscent of eels, yet lacking the mucus secretion to protect against pathogens.  Indicates some other form of strengthening immunity."
	"Do I not recall the Yungert colony who caked themselves in dirt so thickly, that they built a natural immunity?"
	"True true, would be unusual for sky-vermin and also hard to maintain, but not impossible.  Perhaps they add their own layer through salival treatment, like hounds licking their wounds."
	"I am not a hound."  The creature lifted her head.  "I am a Druuk."
	"AH, the vermin speaks!" the blue-feathered visitor clasped his hands.  "Welcome, welcome oh it's marvellous to see you!"
	"Is it?" she snorted.  "One hardly considers a prison to be a marvel."
Stretching herself out as much as permitted, the Druuk was in fact a beautiful silver dragon with a tint of teal across her skin.  Her wings were like sheets of ice, much like the frilled rubbery mane down the back of her neck, whilst her slender head was framed with four black horns stretching past her small marine eyes.  Her quadruped legs kept folded beneath as she stared with cold disregard at her new masters.
	"Remarkable," the archaeopteryx shook his head, "to think it speaks Ailuunian and yet practically feral."
	"Incredible!" gasped Ingleson.  "Despite their beastly conditioning, they were able to construct an entire language with its own written script!"
	"An inferior one, of course, but better than some tribes we encountered who couldn't even do that."
	"Oh yes, absolutely, it truly shows the divergence of sub-standard evolutionary dead-ends."
	"I CAN hear you," the Druuk slit her eyes, "we were not sub-standard."
	"Only because you had nothing to compare to," said Vogel, tapping the cage, "rest assured the world will know your truth, as the degenerate filth you always have been."
	"Your words are empty as your soul, or lack thereof.  I will not give you the pleasure of my anguish, the spirits above know the only truths in this world, and when your civilisation crumbles at last beneath the weight of its ego, you shall be judged in the depths of Okrarr."
	"You can comprehend an afterlife?!" the caudipteryx scribbled frantically.  "Fascinating, full conversational method and a spiritualist outlook unheard of in sub-saurians!"
	"Would you mind telling us more of your culture?" Vogel sat down nearby.  "We must have some record of your existence."
	"If you cared for our existence," the dragon turned her head, "you would not have slaughtered us.  I watched your kind raze our homes and salt our crops, manipulated my children to be your traitors with promises of joy.  You spoke of riches beyond their imagining, and you violated them on national airwaves."
	"Yes, it was splendid," the archaeopteryx groped his crotch, "the cries of your wretched oily bloodline spilt across the stage was nothing short of...well, let's just say I'm immensely excited for tomorrow."
	"I will endeavour to make it as joyless as possible."  She laid down once again.  "Ask your questions, I will not answer them until my debut."
	"Oh, well," Ingleson shrugged, "you've given us more than plenty to review your kind in history so, no worries."
He examined her with the help of a guard who forced her into positions, lifting her tail or pinning her neck with the use of a pitchfork as well as examining records they pilfered from her home.  Volumes of great works were scanned over by Ingleson as he compiled a collective summary of the Druuk civilisation, and then proceeded to edit it towards Ailuunian standards.
Epics of battle and intellectual treatises were destroyed, as the dragon watched them burn her legacy into a simple waste bin.  Thousands of years of Druukian works were scrapped and mangled, reduced to ashes or having select chapters taken out and revised.  In their original forms they discussed how these dragons were the first to found agriculture in the islands, how they devised special tools to harness lightning and power machines far earlier than most tribes in the world had.
But that was not Ingleson's job, instead he plucked the most savage and bitter of tales that transformed the Druuk, into a monstrous race undeserving of pity.  Philosophies were burned and diplomatic stories erased, with only their language left somewhat intact and given a helpful translation.  The dragon laid silent in waiting, preparing herself for her last day and ignoring the looks she received from others, sultry terrible looks that the ones who defiled her family had given.
The professors would depart and leave her to rest again.  She had no idea when morning would come, hoping for one more sleep so the dark and empty future would be delayed.  A small glimmer of hope, perhaps, something to enjoy for herself before the waking nightmare of a trampling herd, a mob approaching her cell.
	"And here we are," said the black archaeopteryx, opening the door, "our star of the show, ready and waiting."
	"Ooooooh!" gasped a newcomer.  "Looks like a big dirty eel!"
	"I said the very same thing!" Ingleson chuckled.  "You have an eye for cycloids I see!"
	"Well yeah see, my dad was a marine biologist.  That one's definitely not from the sea though, those wings aren't dynamic."
	"Oh yes, it's absolutely a sky-vermin, so uh, where should I stand?"
	"Let's get the lights down first."
A small gaggle of Ailuunians armed with cameras and spotlights flooded the room, setting them up round the table as two muscly tyrannosaurs opened the cage, pulled their captive onto the table and put her on her back.  Her wings were freed from the leather straps before being spread out on two more tables that were brought over.
It was only then everyone realised how big she was, twice the height of even the T-rex guards at a once-empowering 16 feet long.  Her clawed feet had strangely dainty claws, her tail was tied up and forced down to expose her genital slit, her neck was restrained with a muzzle clamped over her snout, and all four of her limbs were held aloft in spread-eagle.
The cameras were set up by a pair of tiger-striped sinornithosauruses, gangly raptor-likes with long-fanned feathers and pocketed vests who stood ready and waiting beside their equally-built host, a juravenator with a long head who was dressed in a creamy-white suit.
	"Hiii hi hello!" he waved to the dragon.  "Goodness you're a big fucking bitch, that's what we call catch of the day, huh?!"
	"Hahah, it certainly is!" Ingleson bowed.  "So uh, where should I stand?"
	"Left, please, we want to make sure there's no shadowing on it, get all the details fresh and exposed."
	"Is uh," a camera-raptor asked, "is that thing looking at me?"
	"I am," the Druuk huffed, "while you are staring at my crotch like a degenerate."
	"Wha-the fuck, it speaks?!"
	"Ohhh yes indeed," Vogel clasped his hands behind him, "it has been rather reticent to answer our questions, said it wanted to prepare for its star debut."
	"Holy shit," the other crew-member shook his head, "I knew we were gonna deal with a smart rat but not one that speaks!"
	"Faaaantastic!" the juravenator clapped his hands.  "A genuine look into the mind of a filthy winged wretch, this is going to be GOLDEN!"
	"If it answers your questions," Ingleson rolled his eyes, "it can be rather irascible."
	"You exterminated my kind."  She turned her eyes to him.  "Should I feel joy?"
	"Well yes, of course!  We're cleansing the world of savages like you, is that not a good thing?"
The Druuk said nothing, closing her eyes with a deep patient breath and meditating to herself.  The caudipteryx shrugged confused as they readied the film, coordinated positions and ran through a few spiels.  The camera started rolling and the host stood fresh-faced before them.
	"Hello folks, and welcome to another episode of Cleansing The Truth, the most highly-recommended documentary on ETR!  I'm your host Melvin Drett, and we have a very special demonstration for you all tonight!  I'm here in the back rooms of the Museum of Extinction, where our brave and studious colonisers discovered an entirely new tribe for appraisal!  I'm joined by professors Urban Vogel and Frederick Ingleson, thank you for having us."
	"Thank you all for coming," Vogel spread his black wings, "we're all very excited to show you the last of the Druuk, whose records we have been uncovering since the cleansing of their isle."
	"Ohohhh yes, we all saw the footage which was exceptional and really tested the limits of our aviato-blh-BRLRLRH, ugh, cut!"
The camera stopped with a smirk from the crew.
	"I can't do that fucking word," Melvin laughed, "alright, alright...that part we can just get the cleansing footage for?"
	"Yeah chief," one of the operators gave a thumbclaws-up, "were we gonna get some of the records-burning too?"
	"Oh there's PLENTY to burn," Frederick waved his hand, "don't worry, we're just doing the taxidermy process first, like you wanted?"
	"Right," the host clicked with finger-guns, "okay, I'm ready, starting from 'I'm joined by', okay?"
The camera rolled once more as the dragon watched the spectacle with disgust, rolling her eyes and quietly praying to her gods for some divine judgment.
	"I'm joined by professors Urban Vogel and Frederick Ingleson, thank you for having us!"
	"Thank you all for coming," Vogel bowed and clasped his hands, "we're very excited to show you the last of the Druuk, whom we managed to capture as testament to her filthy race."
	"Incredible!" he turned to Ingleson.  "And I believe you also kept their records since the cleansing?"
	"Ohhh yes indeed!" Frederick patted his belly.  "It never stops when you work for the Historical Ailuun Revisionist Research."
	"And how much have you gotten so far?"
	"So far we've managed to revise sixty-percent of their records, the last forty we kept aside just for you."
	"Exciting!  We all saw the footage of our great colonisers, though the Druuk gave our weapons guidance systems a run for their money!"
Off-camera one of the crew put up his hand for them to be silent, giving a pregnant pause for future editing before giving the go.
	"Now, let's see this vermin we have on sale, shall we?  What can you tell me about it?"
	"Why not let it speak for itself?" Vogel swept his hand to her.  "Go on, all eyes of Ailuun are on you."
	"Hm.  Very well."  The dragon cleared her throat.  "Hello, Ailuun.  My name is Rina, the last of the Druuk.  Your kind consider yourself to be superior, almighty, words that you stole from other races the same as your valour.  You massacred my family, you slaughtered my race and you erase our history.  But you will never kill our spirit.  The gods will judge you, at the end of time, when your civilisation turns to ash, and no one...not even your own, will come save you."
	"...well!" Melvin rubbed his hands.  "That was incredibly impressive, did you learn Ailuunian all by yourself?!"
	"In our first negotiations, I did."
	"Remarkable!  A-and you're feral, yes, but you can speak as well as any of us!"
	"Correct."  She rolled her eyes and tightened her claws above her head.  "As the former archess of the Druuk, my specialty was communication."
	"Well it's a good thing you're on our show!" the host skittered over as the camera zoomed on her face.  "I would ask you about your pathetic excuse of a culture, but we already have your texts for that to revise to our understanding.  You're welcome to say anything you like."
	"Such as your disgusting appropriation of this world as your supposed right?"
	"Well, that's just a matter of opinion, which only sub-saurians have, cuz they are wrong, whereas we have facts, and THAT'S what we strive for in our documentaries!"
	"Exactly," Vogel patted Rina's body, "shall we begin the procedure?  Dr. Ingleson, can you assist?"
	"Oh yes, of course!"

Frederick stepped up beside him as the camera pulled back, watching the two put on their sleeve-gloves that covered their feathers before they made the first incision.  Urban took up a scalpel and made a thin line down the druuk's belly, her face grimacing from the sting before a sharp pain bled through her chest.  Her flesh was parted slowly by the archaeopteryx, his hands pushing inside to expose her seething organs as the dragon shivered from the gaping wound.
With the sound of snapping wet curtains, Rina's innards were left bare to the world of Ailuun as a writhing mass of blackish-red, showing a long winding maze of intestines, a balloon-shaped womb with little flesh-stones on either side, and a vast network of pudgy meats that twitched in desperation.  The heart was most obvious, a central throbbing mass beneath a bloody pair of ribs with three pale lungs circled round it.
	"Now let's see," began Vogel, "the organs are similar to that of the nuka, demonstrating a clear common ancestor separate from our kind.  Note the liver placement here-"
	"H-hhhh!" she groaned from his touch.
	"-tucked under the bottom of the stomach.  There's also a rather bloated appendix, which is very common with the sub-saurian fauna and something no Ailuunian has since we evolved to perfection."
	"Now, what is the appendix for in degenerates?" asked Melvin.
	"A makeshift immune system, lesser animals tend to have this without the neurological complexity to distribute one's antibodies throughout.  Instead, sub-saurians utilise a reverse blood-cleansing process, ironic I know, through the appendix here to filter out diseases."
	"That or it's not very effective."
	"Well it isn't now."
	"N-NNNNPH!"
He grabbed the lumpen brown meat next to her stomach and ripped it free, after slicing the connecting strands to show it to the camera whilst Rina writhed in pain.  A shot of her gritting her teeth was caught too much to their delight, as Vogel fondled the bloated appendix with its shiny exterior and dripping ends.  Frederick tossed it into the bin for biohazard waste, as the black-feathered superior pointed to her intestines.
	"Now of course, these are for the end-product of digestion, but what's really interesting about sub-saurians, is that their villi are much larger than Ailuunians.  This means that there are less of them, and that causes them unable to digest things as well as us, which...well, if you've ever tried to feed chocolate to your pet, that's one reason they don't do well."
	"Well that would have been useful to know," said Melvin holding his snout, "gods this thing stinks."
    "Yeeees organ removal is something of an acquired scent."
    "I would have suggested we fed chocolate to its tribe and watch them all die from poison, but that would be such a waste of good chocolate!"
    "And much less fun!" added Ingleson.  "Who would pass up a chance to gun down some little rats or behead them while they are still breathing?"
    "Speaking of," the host slapped Rina's cheek lightly, "are you planning to mount this head?"
	"Not in the way you think."  The two curators looked at each other with a devious grin.  "But we are keeping the body intact, important to keep the degenerate looking as lively as they were."
	"And especially if it's the last, I'd say it's quite an honour to have a noble archess, but that's no different to say, the matriarch of the slop paddock."
	"Well it might count for breeding livestock, but not this vile mistake."
	"Look in a mirror then," Rina hissed from their probing hands, "you'll find the worst mistake."
	"Anyways we can just remove these."
Vogel snapped both ends of the intestines free before pulling it out in a long meaty rope, much like a magician's handkerchief.
	"Did you know the small intestine is the longest organ in a body?  Smaller in sub-saurians somehow, another example of dead-end evolution."
	"And what do you do with the organs?" asked Melvin, scritching his long snout.
	"Dispose of them, naturally.  There's a high chance they're filled with poisons if left unattended, that's why we're wearing gloves."
	"Nothing airborne I hope!"
	"Nooo no no, the gloves are simply a health standard to prevent cross-contamination.  All Ailuunians are immune to the diseases that degenerates carry."
	"Good thing you planned ahead!" the juravenator tapped her muzzle.  "Wouldn't want that ghastly spit on my suit, though I did wear the right colour just in case."
As they unravelled her guts, the dragon strained with panting moans as her wings flexed beneath her, tightening her muscles to show the bony filament that the camera focused on.  Her strenuous gasps and twisted complexion were kept in view, before the lens snapped back to the last of her intestine.  The long grey worm was as thick as a boa constrictor, coated in slime and smelled hideous to the point that one camera-worker gagged.
Frederick tossed it into the waste vat like a thick lumpen ball, his hands smothered in goo whilst Vogel traced other organs that he could remove first.  The large intestine went next, a fatter shorter version that he ripped free with a skinning knife, then handed it to his assistant who disposed of it proper.  Rina's lower body was now turning empty, with just her bladder and reproductive organs left safe for now.
	"The important thing is to not kill the subject until the very end," said the archaeopteryx, "the longer it suffers the more authentic it will be during the taxidermy process."
	"And are those your most popular exhibits?" Melvin leaned back with hand on snout.  "What a-...ough, c-cut, cut I'm sorry."
The camera stopped as everyone took a moment to breathe, the host and his operator stepping outside to get some fresh air.
	"They'll be alright," said the other sinornithosaurus, "I worked in an abattoir so I'm used to this."
	"Oh really?" asked Fred.  "Why did you change career?"
	"Well the production company were doing an Inside View on the place I worked, and they really liked my attitude and I was super interested in how their cameras worked so yanno, one thing led to another."
	"That's great, it must be exciting to work in that industry!"
	"Ohohoh yeah, though I really wish I was working on Populess, they get all the best stuff."
	"I was a contestant there!" the caudipteryx nearly touched himself then remembered the gloves.  "It was the best night of my life, oh, watching those vermin be slaughtered in the dozens!"
	"Speaking of uh, vermin," the camera worker pointed to Rina, "we gonna rape this once we're done?"
	"Absolutely," Urban stroked her leg to make her flinch, "have to make sure we test the body at its fullest."
	"But, wait, are we not cleansing it?" Fred pointed between.  "I thought you didn't show sexual acts."
	"Oh we just edit that," the striped technician scritched his snout, "we'll probably have you like, take most of the organs out, then we cut, then rape that bitch, and then after we clean up the cum, we show you finishing up."
	"If you dare violate me," the Druuk seethed with clenching claws, "I will curse your home tenfold to leave it in ruins."
	"That makes sense!" Ingleson nodded, ignoring her threat.  "I forget editing is a thing, you all make it such seamless work."
	"Thanks, it's  what I do," the camera-raptor licked his lips, "I wanna fuck them organs though, I bet they feel like great fleshlights."
	"Well lucky for you," Vogel swept his hand, "we can definitely arrange that when the cameras are off."
They chuckled with filthy looks towards Rina who clenched up in disgust, her tail twisting slightly in its bonds as her pussy tightened, a marked slit between her back legs that sat above a puckered hole.  Once the host and other worker returned, they continued with the examination as Vogel dissected Rina carefully.
In his explanation, the archaeopteryx divulged various theories-made-facts about the Druuk's anatomy, corroborating Ailuunian-approved evidence of degenerate structures and how the endocrine system was proof of that before he removed the kidneys.  They were small squishy beans the size of one's hand that they struggled to hold onto for their slippery blood-coloured texture, a velvety wetness that Vogel explained was much too underdeveloped to handle complex monosaccharides, and is why one should never feed their pets some sugar.
Then there was the liver, along with various smaller organs that he scooped out and tossed into the vat.  All sorts of colours were exposed inside the Druuk from chocolate-brown to ruby-rich to sickly-gold, with Urban demonstrating the liver's stretchiness to the camera and further elaborating on its deficiency with higher foods.  After half-an-hour of recording, the drake's lower body was completely hollow except for her delectable womb and ovaries, which all the males struggled to resist groping from the sight of.
	"Now," the host gave a signal to the camera, "how do you proceed with the final moments of the subject?"
	"Well, traditionally we remove the lungs," said Vogel, "then wait for its heart to stop, and remove that."
	"And what about the brain, is there anything we do with that?"
	"The eyes and brain are removed last, there's no pain sensors in the brain see so they won't feel as much with the rest of the body.  We have to also preserve it as a testament to this species' degeneracy."
	"And the womb?"
	"That will be...preserved and replicated for the exhibit."
	"Wh-what?"  Rina shuddered.  "Exhibit?"
	"Well folks," Melvin continued, "shortly we'll be witnessing the last Druuk being cleansed off the earth, so don't touch that dial!  You wouldn't want to miss another part of our world becoming stronger and purer without degenerate filth!"
The raptor crew turned off the camera with a devilish smile, as they all slipped off their pants and gathered round the Druuk.  Their bulging cocks trembled in anticipation, sprouting free from their slits as the archaeopteryx pumped himself.
	"Now the rules," he began, "no fucking the chest cavity, no skullfucking nor strangling."
	"Right," the host licked his long snout, "don't want to deprive the audience of her last moments."
	"You...disgust me," she rasped with excruciating agony, "I...curse your empire, to the depths...of Okrarr."
	"That's nice, SO who's getting her cunt?"
	"I think it's only fair you do," Frederick fondled his pulsing meat, "you are the big guest of honour."
	"I agree," Vogel nodded, "enjoy yourself, but try not to damage the womb, it will be needed for replication."
	"I want a shot of that ass," said one of the striped camera-raptors, "love me a tight hole."
	"Then we'll savour its maw, Dr. Ingleson can you assist?"
	"Gladly!"
They all took their places as Rina would suffer the worst humiliation.  The sinornithosauruses slipped out one tape from the camera, and put in a different one titled "EXXXhuming The Body" with Melvin grasping her back legs and sliding his cock inside.  Her body writhed with its gaping wound as her heart beat visibly faster in shock from the lance of her coloniser splitting her folds.
	"OHHH!  F-fuck...ohhh what a good whore she is."
	"They all were, apparently," the archaeopteryx removed her muzzle, "hold her head, please."
	"I saw the after-hours special vids," Fred chuckled, doing so, "so envious of our soldiers getting to mass-cleanse these degenerates."
	"It's hard work certainly, only the most virile Ailuunians can perform that many rapes per crusade."
	"S-sickening," the Druuk hissed, "revel in v-violence...gods will create...a special realm of suffering for you-GLRRK!"
	"Hush now," he strapped a different muzzle on her, "just do what your kind were born to do."
	"That's right," the caudipteryx nodded, "to pleasure us and die after."
The new headgear was a set of leather straps with a metal ring that went in her mouth, forcing it open for cocks to ravage her safely.  Vogel started first, grasping her head to pump her roughly as Fred jerked off from the other side, savouring her grunts of protest.  Her eyes watered from the cruel violation, her lungs heaving beneath her ribs as she stared at the black-feathered fiend with malice.
He chuckled at her flexing tongue beneath his spear, the cold steel of the ring making a nice companion to her heated breaths and dripping fangs.  Her lips curled like a rabid dog which only further encouraged them to rape harder, as the host picked up speed with heavy claps of his thighs.  This had once been a sacred womb, as Rina thought back to all the great and noble lovers she had in her chambers, the strongest of character who passed all her tests fairly to be given that right.
She had birthed many children to become future diplomats and warriors, all from a great and ancient bloodline carefully hewn not just from royals, but from the most exemplary of her populace.  Now she was being violated by her oppressor, a trussed-up TV host in a tawdry suit, whose plastic grin leered on her with a savoury drool.  His cock punched into her lower belly, and he sputtered with pre into her fallopian tube that he could see clearly in her belly.
Drett couldn't help himself, grasping the pink tunnel and using it to jerk himself off, or tightening it to fuck harder which caused a small amount of bleeding and stinging pains to the Druuk.  The juravenator's tail swished with each thrust, panting in bliss at her strangely-familiar-yet-deviously-feral cunt, a different kind of warmth he was not used to in his personal liaisons.
	"Fffffuck me," he shivered, "ohhh this whore feels good, she's going to be a great exhibit for you."
	"I very much agree," said Vogel, still pumping her throat, "we'll have to slacken the mouth some, lest some of our more enthusiastic patrons get a bit rough and break her jaw."
	"Oh does that happen?" asked Ingleson, stroking away.
	"Y-y-yes...haaah...one time we had the Miskba exhibit and h-h-had to...mmmmph, rebuild its jaw when it snapped off, after a few thrusts...pathetically fragile race."
The raven-feathered curator pumped faster into his subject, his claws tightening on her skull as his cock sputtered thicker pre into her throat.  With her stomach still present, it would help contain the mess that dribbled down her gullet, as Urban made sure to not pull out too far and leave any traces.  Not that it mattered for their current recording, but he wanted to have some professionalism for the documentary.
It was much harder for Fred however who had to hold himself back and cup his pre with each stroke, waiting for his colleague to finish off with the growing plap of scaly thighs against rina's snout.  Her horns made it easy  to keep her in place, as Vogel moaned at her bated breaths fogging over his meat which incited him to cum.  A gasping moan filled his lungs as he pumped his load inside her, trembling through his thighs as she struggled to swallow with an open maw.
	"T-take it, all of my superior seed, you degenerate cunt."
	"GL-GLRRRK!  Glllrk!"
	"Mmmmmhhhh...aaaah, there we go," he pulled out, using her tongue to clean himself and not leave a trace out of her maw, "your turn, doctor."
	"Excellent," Frederick stepped up and shoved his way in, "ohhhh!  I've been wanting to rape this thing since we first saw it, what a boon for your institution!"
	"Yes," Vogel sat down nearby and pulled up his pants, "we have a special deal with the military to always leave the last of any species aside for us.  What luck we happened upon a bander."
	"MMMMPH, you got that right!" Melvin pumped faster.  "S-such a...fucking good use of a filthy SKYRAT, AAAAGH!"
The host came in turn with a tremendous shot of jizz as he let go of her feminine tube, letting his cum violate her womb and make the Druuk shudder in horrendous grief.  Her body was now truly tainted, but she never gave them the pleasure of her tears, having spent many years of training composure in the face of adversity.
Despite the foul semen of a pampered show host riddling her insides, she kept her face stern as she swallowed Ingleson's cock.  The raptors behind the camera were jerking away, trying not to moan too loud when so close to the audio receiver until Melvin finished up in her.  He admired his work briefly, watching the womb quiver in disgust at its new breeding as he imagined his righteous seed marching upon her lands, ravaging her maidens and cleansing her sanctum of degenerate history.
	"Alright boys," he swept his hand, "it's all yours, got a place to park?"
	"Ohohoh yeah," the crew-members rubbed themselves, "I want that ass real good."
	"I uh, can I have one of its kidneys?" said the other striped raptor.  "I know it's not a heart but I wanna make it watch as I fuck it and pretend."
	"Go right ahead," Vogel gestured to the bin, "make sure everyone gets a good view while it's still warm."
One of the sinornithosauruses went to the waste vat, whilst the other grabbed Rina's legs and drilled into her other hole.  She squawked in surprise which caused the metal gag to shudder round Ingleson's meat and get him closer to cumming.  The camera-raptor pumped her tighter ass, spreading it open roughly but not enough to cause bleeding thanks to their difference in size as his stripey tail swished behind him, though he was careful to keep it low beneath the camera's gaze.
His companion picked up a kidney and stabbed through its opening with his shaft, squelching the bean-shaped organ down like a burst condom as he savoured the lukewarm flesh suckling tight round his member.  For her "benefit", the camera-raptor stood close to her head and made her watch his ruthless desecration, his cock stabbing out the other end to pop a bubble of flesh on her face.
	"Ooops, sorry!" he cackled.  "Fucking sub-saurian meat doesn't last that good, don't it?"
	"We'll make sure its body will," Vogel sighed, looking on, "all the world will know what this thing truly was."
	"God damn yes," the host leaned back against the wall, "best thing I fucked in this museum, I can tell you that."
	"Same here, boss!"
The camera-raptor fucking her ass fist-bumped him as they kept on using her, with Frederick soon filling her maw in a sputtering glee and watching her cough with a struggle.  Making sure she swallowed every drop, the square-headed caudipteryx kept her snout flat against his crotch before he was done at last.  With a happy sigh, he pulled out and sat beside his colleague, watching the two crew members ravage her weakening form.
With one pounding her ass and another standing over her head with her impaled kidney, Rina closed her eyes and did her best to embrace the void early.  It was not surrendering to them, but embracing her ancestors who knew in her heart that their reckoning would come.  It had to come, or else what was the point of ever existing?  She shut out the noise of squishing flesh next to her ear, the ghastly length fuckstabbing her organ with meaty pops.
She tried to ignore the rape of her rear, slowing her breath and meditating in a way that would put her mind higher, away from the sharp pains between her legs.  It helped enough to let time pass quicker, when the one in her ass came first with a stuttering groan, and the one fucking her kidney tightened it up to let the dead organ bloat with his cum.
	"Auuuugh yeah, f-fucking whore," he hissed, "yeaaaah...that's some nice cream in your meat, huh?"
	"Sure is, bud," his friend pulled out her ass, "haaaah, god damn I can't wait to come back on opening day."
	"Remember," Urban waved, "adult times are 8pm onwards!"
	"Right, then!" Melvin rubbed his hands.  "Shall we finish it off?"
	"You mean the bitch or the documentary?"
They laughed altogether as the Druuk felt herself on the edge of tears, her greatest struggle yet as she watched the kidney gorge with hot semen in its fleshy hide, giving a coffee-cream colouring that leaked out from its funnel.  The sinornithosaurus tossed it into the vat, and stood back behind the camera with his friend as the juravenator stepped in front with Vogel and Frederick, after they swapped back Rina's muzzle to the caged look.

With the tapes swapped back to the documentary reel, Vogel grabbed her cum-filled stomach and severed the oesophagus to extricate it fully, a long slack bag of meat that gurgled with acid, much like the sounds Rina made when she felt her digestive system be fully removed.  The emptiness was growing, her hope dwindled with each cut her successors made as they pulled up her long dark stomach where glands dangled off the bottom and the gullet tapered from its top.
The dragon felt a strange suffocating, a gasping wind in her throat that instinctively frightened her despite her lungs still heaving.  Until the curator snapped them free one by one, peeling out the aerated sacs and watching them deflate with a tragic wheeze, soft angel-white bags with stressing veins crawling over its surface.  They watched her asphyxiate, five faces all grinning down upon her in the basement, their joys so wretchedly palpable at her extinction.  She looked to the camera with its gleaming lens and uttered her final words.
	"H-hrrrrkh...hhhh!  To’seerma...kan’yo...ama ku’ur sanna..."
These words would be lost to time as she laid her head back, and finally joined her ancestors.  Her heart thumped slower, the camera zoomed in to savour its last beat as the room turned quiet.  It stopped, and there came a rapturous applause from the documentary crew with a few whoops and hollers.
	"Faaaantastic," Melvin joined in, "and that, ladies and patrons, is how you proper cleanse a species from existence!  The last of the Druuks have been completely wiped, and thanks to our vastly-intelligent curators at the Museum of Extinction, we'll commemorate their genocide for centuries to come!  Professor Vogel, professor Ingleson, thank you for having us on this special occasion."
	"It was our immense pleasure," said the archeopteryx, "thank you for joining us to chronicle their cleansing."
	"Well then!  What say Ingleson shows us how the rest of their degenerate writings are dealt with?"
	"Oh absolutely!" the caudipteryx swept his hand to the door.  "Right this way, I'll show you where we keep the records to be disposed!"

The camera followed him out before shutting off to save the reel, turning back on once Frederick had brought them to the records room where old texts would be liquidated.  The blasphemous tomes were blurred on camera in post-editing, making certain no one could ever scan or replicate such debased and worthless languages.
Two days after Rina's death, she was proudly put up on display at the Museum of Extinction.  Her once-noble body had been taxidermised, stuffed and mounted into a savage pose that accentuated her feral look with seething maw, outstretched wings and a flared slit, resembling a beast during the mating season.  Even her legs had been arranged to look like she was presenting, much to the snickering of children and the lurid looks from adults.
The only records of the Druuk were right next to her, in her diorama that resembled a creeping jungle with a pile of her own kind's bones scattered round her feet that she had "picked clean" according to the blurb.  From this point on, Ailuunians would know the Druuk as a mongrel race that practiced cannibalistic rituals and constant inbreeding, much like many other sub-saurian tribes in the exhibit.  Her brain was also on display, but it had been severely dehydrated and shrunk down in a more "idealised" form of a primitive, sub-saurian organ, as confirmed by the kingdom's findings.
When nighttime came, the museum was open only to adults, allowing them to experience a greater pleasure of connecting with history.  Just as they said, the stripe-coloured camera-raptors had returned with a grinning lick of their teeth, as one jogged over to Rina's body and grabbed her tail where a stone mound had been placed for a comfortable "breeding" height.
	"Hey there sexy bitch," he chuckled, "loved that ass of yours, I just had to come back."
	"You seriously fuck any other hole?" said his friend.
	"Well, yeah, sometimes but you gotta try this one."
	"Okay well I'm gonna check out the mass graves to get me going, catch you later."
	"Yeah sure!"
Across the museum, Ailuunians molested the propped-up bodies of their inferiors with gusto.  Males fucked holes and flooded synthetic wombs that were emptied and cleaned after closing time, whilst females pumped their pussies on snouts or actual bones of the dead, offered free as dildos to enjoy.  Both of them also stood over authentic mass graves, airlifted from the original sites of massacre for good citizens to "do their part and wash away history" with hot sprays of jizz from all genders.
Wherever Rina's spirit now lied, her body remained in hell, as she became yet another faceless exhibit of the countless dozens of other exterminated beings who were raped and mocked.  All of their legacy reduced to a single picture, doctored by the best researchers to be forever inferior, beneath the great Kingdom of Ailuun.