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The Sixth House - Part I

M/M┃ Trans x Cis ┃ Dubcon ┃ Oral ┃ Rough ┃ +5k Words

Content Warning: Trans man with pre op genitals and tits. He will submit.

A thief is looking to rob a great magister, but the magister has other plans for the young trans man.

•──────•

Chapter I - Of Thieves & Magisters

The thick mist had already settled on the streets of Godglaive with the blood red moon glowing eerily in the darkened sky as it had done each night since the gods had been killed. Wren was just about to finish his final preparations for tonight's job. Getting into the city had been surprisingly hard when the train's conductor had almost noticed that Wren's passport was a fake one, and he had been saved only by accident, when another stowaway had panicked and taken his chances by attacking the man. During the chaos, Wren had managed to slip away and stay unnoticed. Had Wren been caught, he would have been turned over to the cityguards, who would most certainly have found his guild's brand and arrested him for it.

And ending up there would have meant a fate worse than death. Even the thought of it made Wren gulp out loud.

It had been a long while since Wren had been in the city of Godglaive. Last time he had left, he had barely made it out alive and sworn that he would never return, but over the past few years, the need for vengeance had become too much to bear, and as soon as he had heard about the job, especially how no one had been able to fulfil it, Wren had seized the moment. Someone had paid well in advance for the city's First Magister Mael of the Sixth House to be robbed, and Wren planned to make good on that promise. Accomplishing such a task would not be easy, but Wren liked the challenge along with the chance to pay back for the last time. The Magister had taken a lot from him, but if Wren managed to get his hands on the requested artefact, he could steal everything from the Magister in return. It had been almost fifty years since the Old Gods of the past era had been slain and taken most of the world's magick with them, but some of it still lingered in the cracks of the earth that was bleeding dry. First Magister Mael had been one of the heroes who had freed the people from the gods' chains and now wielded the same magick that he had once fought against. In a greed for power, he had forgone his heroic ideals and turned into a villain that every civilian of the Godglaive knew well enough to fear. While the chancellor of Godglaive might have had the governmental power over the land on paper, the First Magister was truly the one pulling all the strings. Where the gods had had a natural attunement to the magick, humans needed anchors, and one such anchor was the artefact which Wren aimed to steal. Taking it would also take away the First Magister's powers, leaving him with nothing.

The First Magister Mael of the Sixth House. A godslayer and a great magi. Revered and dreaded man, who was known to be cruel to anyone who did not bend to his will.

Wren's right hand found the small brass wind-up key from his pack, slid it into the hole on his left arm, turned it until it no longer moved, and put it back in his small leather pack. The gears inside his brass arm began to whir. Wren stretched his arm, rotating his wrist and closing his hand to a fist to make sure it worked correctly, before putting on his deep black tailcoat that made his milky white skin and light grey eyes look almost sickly in contrast. He hid his steel grey ringlet curls underneath a bicorn, leaving only a shoulder-length braid to lie against his left shoulder. With the dark cane with a silver handle and a tip in his gloved hand, Wren looked just like any other young man of Godglaive looking for a fun night at the pleasure district, and that was where he was heading, but not for sexual reasons. The First Magister's head steward frequented the pleasure district often, and he had what Wren needed to get inside with him: a small sigil etched on a gold plate that worked as a key to the First Magister's tower. Not only would it allow him to enter, but it would help him to disengage the magical traps deeper within. Those traps had been the fall of many of Wren's kind, and he had determined to be the exception and secure his place as a high-ranking member back at the guild.

The Nightmoth Guild dealt with all things too fragile or unlawful to stand the light of day. Among which were little such things as forgery, thievery and assassinations. Wren had leaned on the thieving part of it, as it had not only been a way to earn enough money to live, but it was also where his skills seemed to shine the most. His hands were nimble and still, and he was smart enough to outwit most of his targets, like the one nobleman whose precious painting he stole a couple of years ago. The beautiful painting of the Lady Silent that had been hanging on his gallery had been a fake one, and the nobleman had kept the real one safe in his bedroom, right above his bed. Wren had found his secret lover, who had told him about it. When the nobleman had been away during his manor's reconstructions, Wren had stolen the forgery, which the nobleman had expected to happen, even going so far as bragging about it, and replaced the real one with the fake one, disguised as a worker. As far as Wrein knew, the nobleman still had the fake one hanging over his bed, none the wiser of what had actually happened.

Wren gave a last look at his lodgings to make sure he had everything ready if he had to leave quickly and closed the door behind him. Going down the corridor that creaked beneath his black leather boots in a way only an old building could, Wren's pace did not betray his confidence. If he had been truthful with himself, Wren would have recognised that he was heading to a place where he would be a fish out of water. He had planned to get the sigil either by stealing or, if things came to it, by seducing the man. Yet, the art of seduction was not one Wren had a lot of experience with. he had never slept with another man nor a woman and had only experimented alone after coming to adulthood. When he and his friends had gone for drinks, they had flirted and succeeded in finding willing partners, but Wren had been too shy even to try and had instead spent most of his time honing his skills as a thief. A coin from there, a set of bracelets from here, all those things had been his, and over time, his skills had earned him a reputation of good standing. That might have been one of the reasons why the guild elder had allowed him to take this job; if anyone was going to get it done, it would be Wren. After some time, Wren had come to terms with dying as chaste as he had been born, but if his revenge was hanging in the balance, he had decided that he would lie with the head steward if there was no other choice.

The cobble street Wren walked on was relatively empty. Only a few figures were walking through the fog, along with the sound of a lone horse coming from somewhere further away as hard hooves hit against the rocks. Life had moved to the saloons lining the street. The warm, yellow lights cut through the fog, where the shadows of the people revelling inside were cast on it like they were performing a shadow theatre. Two cityguards dragged a cocked man from one of the bars and began to beat him with their batons right in the street when he refused to get up. Wren quickly dodged to the other side of the street, determined to get where he was heading. His first stop would be the pleasure district and a gentleman's club known as the Black Chalk Cornerclub. If and when he got what he needed, he would head deeper into the city the same night. The Head Steward would realise that his sigilkey is missing as soon as he returned to the magister's tower, giving Wren a little room to plan otherwise. Accomplishing two very different tasks over one night was risky, but so was the job itself. Wren recognised that there was a chance that he would not live to see the next dawn, but if he did, then the world would be all the better for it. Of course, the resulting chaos of one of the most powerful men losing all of his powers would bring its own harm, but Wren had been blinded by his need for revenge and, as such, had made himself believe that his deed would be justified in the end.

Through the heavy fog colored by the red and blue lights of the pleasure district, Wren could finally see the building that was called the Black Chalk Auction, named for its dark walls and history. It had once served as the largest black chalk distribution centre in the world, a mineral that was highly sought after because of its qualities. Unlike white chalk, the true black chalk could be used to make glass stronger and infused with a little bit of magic, leading to countless possibilities. Yet, as soon as the old gods were struck down, the price for magickal items and abilities shot through the roof, killing such common use for magick, taking the black chalk industry with it. Now the old auction house served another kind of customers: it had two different clubs, one serving men lusting for other men and the other serving women loving women. The women's cornerclub was marked by the blue lights, whereas the men used the red colour, making the whole district a colourful blend of red, blue and purple. The black iron gates into the district were closed during the day, but wide open as the evening had fallen. Wren stepped right through them, feeling a bit nervous when he saw a man at another club throwing leery glances at him. As an opposite to the main street before it, the pleasure district was bustling with people, men, women and everyone between or outside of them had gathered around, dallying with each other despite the class and status. During the day, they would seldom meet or speak to each other, but here in the pleasure district, especially during the night, every door and way was open to those who only needed to come through.

Wren made his way through the crowd, entering through the double doors of the Black Chalk Auction that drew heavy shadows over the other buildings around it. The concierge guided him to the door of the Black Chalk Corner club. Wren was met with a scent of cigarettes and rich bourbon floating in the air, and the sound of the phonograph playing in the background. Everything in the room screamed of masculine desires: everything was shaped to resemble phallic shape, from the symbols on the wallpaper all the way to the table and chair legs. Even the phonograph was hidden in a statue that had been carved to resemble a nude, young man. Wren found himself blushing before he was pushed deeper inside by the other arriving gentlemen. Wren had to remind himself that he was there for a job and pushed his tricorne hat down to hide his red cheeks and got himself a glass of iced water as a distraction. From a seat that looked as if a large, wooden phallus was about to enter his rectum, he looked over the room to find his target.

The men in the club were all well-dressed and varied greatly in age. Some looked as fresh-faced as Wren himself; others were far older and could have easily been great-grandparents to the younger men they were hanging with. Wren witnessed exploratory looks and kisses, a hand on someone's thigh, caressing the inside. When their communication between the men became too hot, they slipped away together or in a small group into the back of the club, from where a narrow staircase would lead them to the private rooms to continue their deeply immoral exchange. It took a moment for Wren to note the man he was looking for, and to his disadvantage, the head steward was already groping another on a couch. The red-haired young man seemed to be into the older man, whose hair had already fallen, but it looked like he was also eyeing another man in the room. Wren moved closer, trying to come up with a plan on how to separate the two, when suddenly, the red-haired boy got up and moved to get another drink. Taking his change, Wren moved in. He sat next to the man as if only looking for a place to sit, which was not very hard, as more people were standing around than places to sit. The head steward looked slightly infuriated, but his expression changed soon when he looked at Wren a little bit closer. Wren could feel his dark blue eyes explore every visible part of him, from the beauty mark on his bare chin all the way to his thighs. The man licked his lips, moving closer to the thief who tried to act like he hadn't even noticed him.

"Say, I haven't seen you around here before, haven't I?" the older man started and slipped his warm hand on Wren's thigh.

"Hey… Umm… Yes, I moved here for work just recently," Wren said truthfully. He could smell the whiskey in the man's breath along with the years of hard smoking. His teeth were yellowed by the tar, and the wrinkles on his face were as much the work of the years of hard labour as they were due to his age.

"Oh? What do you do as a job?" The steward asked.

"Horses," Wren answered and took another sip from his drink, "My master buys and sells horses. My job is to look for them, so I travel a lot."

"Really? That must be an interesting job," the man feigned his interest, bursting with the intention to reveal his career. It could be seen in his grin and in the way his wrinkles turned up around his heavy eyes. "I work for the First Magister himself," the man finally let out. Working for someone like him was a matter of pride; the association alone was enough to separate the steward from the rest, and that pride was something Wren could use. he did his best to act surprised, interested even, and widened his eyes while consciously lifting his bottom lid.

"Really? What's it like?" he asked.

The steward moved closer, his fingers pressing against Wren's inner thigh, while his other hand moved behind the thief to lay against his shoulders. He tipped Wren's hat back up to see him better and smiled.

"You know, not easy," the steward chuckled, "I take care of his household, and make sure the servants are doing what they are told to do. It's a lot, but I still have time to… play… after the hours, and I like to play rough." He pulled up his pendant that held the sigil key Wren was looking for, "See?" the man said, "That's his mark," and pointed at the golden pendant before slipping it back inside his coat. The sigil resembled a simple key with the magister's mark carved through it. The symbols were easy enough for anyone to copy, but they only worked if they had been embedded with the sigil holder's magick, whose glow could be seen in the carving cracks.

This time, Wren did not need to feign his interest and shared his full attention with the man.

"What's your name?" Wren asked and moved his hand over the steward's chest, gently pressing it to see where he might have hidden the sigilkey, finding it and measuring how long the waxed string on it was. Wren had a thin ring on his middle finger that hid a small, cat-like claw blade in it. If he got close enough, he could cut the string and steal the necklace, but only if he could do so without being noticed.

"You can call me Adolphe." The steward's hand pressed hard against Wren's thigh, and he had to fight to keep himself from yelping out loud.

"I-It's good to meet you, I'm Válery," Wren lied through his bitten lip, which Adolphe took as a sign of interest rather than distress. Wren pulled in closer, raising himself a little to lean against the steward and moved his hands over his shoulders as if he was about to kiss him, but then the steward suddenly pulled away.

"The night's short and I need to be up early." Adolphe stated straight out, "I'm not here to gamble, only to play." Wren cursed under his breath as the man rose from the couch and turned his back on him. He needed to recoup and get the man's attention back to him again, and do so soon.

"Are you coming or what?" Adolphe turned back to Wren.

"Y-yes!" Wren stuttered, relieved that he had not lost the situation after all. He walked to the steward, who grabbed him by the buttocks and squeezed them hard. Adolphe began to lead Wren to the corridor, and he could already hear the thumping and moaning echoing through the walls. Wren had hoped he would not have to be with the man alone, nor that he would have to go further than a kiss with him, but the man had been right about night being short, and Wren was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. It looked like he would not get another choice, and as such, Wren allowed the man to lead him to a private room for two.

🗡

The air inside the corridor had been tense, and the further Wren walked, the more humid it felt. Now, inside the private room that had been used by couples like them many times over, Wren could almost touch the growing tension. Adolphe hung his dark coat on a rack and walked over to the bed whose bedding matched the dark blue wallpaper with roses on it. The steward patted his heavy belly and looked at Wren, licking his lips in excitement.

“I’ll have you know that I have a big appetite…” The man cooed.

“Then it must be good that I have some fat on my hips,” Wren tried to flirt back and followed Adolphe’s lead by putting his coat next to his, along with his tricone, but when he tried to walk to the man, the steward raised his palm and stopped him.

“No, I want you to get onto the floor on all fours,” Adolphe demanded. At first, Wren hesitated and looked at Adolphe, confused. Wren had to get that sigilkey for himself by any means necessary, but he was not too keen on lying with him, even though he had accepted it as a possibility before. On the far side of the room, Wren spotted a carafe half-full of an amber liquid and a pair of drinking glasses on a shelf, and an idea came to him. In Wren’s mechanical arm, there were various small hidden compartments which held tiny tools and materials to use in a pinch; one of those compartments had a powder that could be used to render a man of two unconscious quickly, and Wren saw his chance in those glasses.

“Why don’t we get to know each other first?” Wren purred and stepped towards the glasses.

"No," Adolphe lashed out, “I want you on the ground, you got that? I already told you why I am here, and I will not be playing any games.” The tenacity in the older man’s eyes surprised Wren, and he decided it would be for the best to follow the steward’s orders for now. Wren got down and looked at the man to see what he would ask of him next.

“Good boy…” Adolphe muttered, unbuttoning his white shirt and revealing the sigilkey that lay on his hairy chest. “Now crawl to me, I want you to bow before me,” the steward said with a voice that could only belong to a man who had served those in power far too long, submitting himself to their whims rather than to his own. Wren did as he was told, slowly inching toward Adolphe, before he was in front of his feet. Adolphe put his hand on Wren’s head, brushing the grey curls with a rough touch and grinning.

“Unbutton my pants,” Adolphe demanded, and Wren raised his hands to find the cold buttons. He could feel the heat coming from the bulge between the steward’s loins, who groaned when Wren accidentally brushed his fingers against it. Adolphe bent down to reach into Wren’s chest through his neckline and looked pleased when he found the soft breast underneath. When his nail scratched over Wren’s nipple, Wren gasped from the sudden sensation. His breast followed the steward’s orders as well as he did, and soon his nipple raised from its bed to meet the man’s touch.

“Oh, how I do like my men with some tits,” Adolphe moaned, while his finger played with the hardened nipple untouched by any man other than Wren before. Wren could feel his hands shaking when they found the last button and managed to release the fat member, which had been shackled by mere fabric. With no underwear to hold it back, Adolphe’s hefty member sprang out and revealed its whole girth to Wren, whose eyes widened from the surprise. The uncut tip leaked with fluid, slowly dripping down the firm shaft. Adolphe gripped tighened around Wren’s curls, making him yelp from the pain that only seemed to endear the man.

“Now, pull my balls out. I want you to worship the whole magnificent cock. I will use it to drill into you soon, I promise,” Adolphe demanded, before asking, “But I do wonder, if you have the hole to match your tits?”

“Yes…” Wren gulped, “I’ve been mostly untouched by magick, but I have some parts enchanted…”

“Good, it’s been a long time since I’ve had someone with more than two holes,” Adolphe purred, “Now get to it.” Wren reached into Adolphe’s pants and felt the pulsing sack still trapped within. He grabbed it gently and pulled it under the intimidating member. Wren looked at Adolphe, puzzled about what to do next. Fearing what he had to do.

“Is this your first time, boy? Take my cock into your hand and my balls into your other!” Adolphe demanded impatiently. Wren did not dare to tell him the truth that he had been absolutely right; this would be his first time with someone, and while he had hoped this would have been easier, actually going through this moment made him feel unsure. Adolphe piched Wren’s nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pain through Wren’s body. Another pinch made Wren cry out, but at the same time, he felt something new, an unfamiliar sensation of growing heat rising inside of him, daring to be touched yet again in that same rough touch. Wren put his hand that still had flesh in it onto Adolphe’s shaft and his mechanical one on his balls.

“P-Please… Tell me how you want to be touched…” Wren panted, trying to hide the shiver and need in his voice at the same time.

“Grab both of them firmly and knead. Have you not polished a pole before?” Adolphe taunted and pinched Wren again, who now gasped in response. The steward leaned back when Wren began to work on his shaft, who was trying to see which motion pleased the man the most. Wren took the groans and the slight twitches in his balls as a sign of which way to go. Wren had never held a cock in his hands, and he was surprised to see how easily the soft skin moved against the firm tissue. He moved his hand from the base of the rod all the way to the tip in a twirling motion, hiding the red tip with its hood and pushing it back over it while his brass hand massaged the sack with two throbbing balls. Adolphe pulled Wren’s hair, guiding him to move faster.

“N-Now you are getting it…” The Steward moaned, “Worship them as a priest prays on the Blessed Monument.”

“I’ve never been a praying man, but this… This I can do…” Wren whimpered. He could feel the warmth inside him growing, reaching all the way down to his groin and making his pussy drip with wetness. His clit throbbed with heat, wanting to be licked and touched by someone, but Wren did not dare to give in to the pleasure and having the older man to touch the untouched felt right and wrong at the same time. Yet, slowly, his mind wanted the same thing as his body, and he could feel himself getting lost in his lust. Wren imagined what it would feel like to be mounted for the first time, would it hurt, and if it did, would the pain feel as entrhalling as the pinching of his nipple. Would the man only use his pussy or enter his rear too?

Adolphe suddenly jerked forward and pulled Wren away from his member by the hair.

“T-that’s enough… I want you to use your mouth to lick it wet enough to enter your cunt,” he growled, and Wren snapped momentarily back.

“M-maybe I should wet my lips first?” He hesitated and looked at the table “I’d like to please you…” Adolphe put his thumb over Wren’s lips before forcefully pushing it inside, twirling it around his tongue and pulling it out, licking his thumb.

“Tastes moist enough for me. If you won’t do as I say, I will get another man, my dear Válery. There are plenty willing to be with the First Magisters’ head steward!” Adolphe threatened, and Wren pursed his lips together, thinking how far he was truly willing to go. Adolphe took his cock and slapped it against Wren’s cheeks, taunting him even more with it. “Well, boy? It’s not gonna stand this tall all night.” Wren opened his mouth to say something, but before he could even decide if their game was over or not, Adolphe pushed his whole member deep inside Wren’s mouth, making him gag when its tip hit the back of his throat. “That’s what I’m talking about…” Adolphe groaned, “Warm and wet…” Wren tried to push himself away, tears running down his cheeks, but the steward’s grip was too strong, and he feared that the man would pull out his scalp if his grip got any stronger. Adolphe began to pump into Wren’s mouth with great vigour that he had reserved only for the nights like this. The steward wanted to be begged and pleaded with, to reach at least a tiny bit of that power and affluence his master had. A height he could reach only with inexperienced young men like Wren. With each thrust, Adolphe’s balls swayed against Wren’s bare chin while his tip banged against his throat. Wren’s drool slathered all over the fat member, allowing it to enter him more easily and faster as Wren tried to gasp for air. His lips almost reached the base of the cock, but the steward pulled out too quickly for Wren’s nose to reach the hairy crotch underneath the heavy belly. Wren gagged and choked, his fingers pushing against Adolphe’s trousers and trying to steady the pace to no avail. Adolphe then pushed his hands on the back of Wren’s head and pulled him closer, driving his member as deep as he could to the virgin throat and kept him in place when his creamy seed burst through his tip. Wren could feel the large, hot load hit the back of his throat, forcing him to swallow it all before the stewards pulled his member out and stroked his cock a few more times to decorate Wren’s pale face with his cum, almost hitting him in the eye as he did so.

“Your throat squeezes nicely…” Adolphe huffed, “… And you even swallowed it all… What a good boy you are…”

Gagging and gasping for air, Wren looked away in embarrassment. He had endured a lot, but was not near enough to cut the sigilkey for himself without the head steward noticing it. Besides, the bellowing feeling inside him made a harsh contrast between his wants and needs. He wanted to be done with the steward, to be on his way to continue his quest for revenge, but at the same time, his body wanted it to be violated again, treated even more roughly than it already had. The spreading blush on Wren’s cheeks did not help him feel any better, and he did not lift his gaze from the stained carpet before Adolphe spoke.

“… I need some time to recover… Bring me a drink and get on the bed with your ass up and high,” the head steward ordered, slapping Wren’s behind as he got up. “… And wear those pearls over your face with pride. Not many men get to have those.” Adolphe did not see the new light in Wren’s eyes when he walked to the table and poured both of them a drink. Silently and quickly, Wren opened the secret compartment and poured some of the powder hidden in it over the drinks before walking back to the steward. He then swirled the liquid with one quick movement to hide the powder within the amber and handed over one of the drinks, making it look like he took a sip from it before giving it to Adolphe, who took it without objection. Wren sat on Adolphe’s lap, looking into his eyes above him and smiled with a wicked curl on his lips.

“What if I want to be on top of you?” Wren purred and feigned another sip, this time from his own glass. Adolphe chugged down half of his drink and grinned back.

“Well, well… Did my cock just turn a timid man into a bold one?” He teased, drinking the rest of his drink. “I like that, and it does make my weary cock hard again.”

Wren pressed his clothed body against Adolphe’s hairy chest and leaned his face in to plant a kiss, pulling away just before their lips could meet and pushing the man’s glass on them instead. Wren made Adolphe drink all of it, making him gurggle as he had done to him when the liquid filled his mouth and poured out of it. He then grabbed the sigilkey by the chain and pulled Adolphe even closer to him, and saw how Adolphe’s eyes widened when he realised something was not right as the powder began to work its magick.

“Good night, you bastard,” Wren mocked and cut the sigilkey from its chain, letting the steward drop onto the bed when his lights went out. Disgusted, Wren spat on the man and got up. Finding a washing basin and washing away the steward’s unripe legacies from his face. As water dripped back into the basin down his face, Wren saw his reflection in the bottom of the polished pewter. The man who looked back at him was different from the one who had left the small apartment in the search for revenge just an hour before, but they both had the same determination in their eyes, which Wren decided to follow. He pulled the steward higher in the bed, making him look as if he had slept peacefully, then put his hat and coat back on and left the room, making sure the door was locked behind him. He saw a pair of men walking up to him, looking to see if the room was free for their own nightly pleasures.

“You don’t want to go in there,” Wren said, “He won’t wake up happy if you two get it on on the same bed he’s sleeping on.”

“You rode him that hard, eh?” one of the men snickered while the other rolled his eyes, and the two walked off to find another free room. Wren walked back into the bar and told the barkeeper that the room should be left undisturbed for the night, passing a few coins to make it happen and left the Black Chalk Cornerclub for good. Outside, the night air was still as fresh as it had been before, and the gathered crowd had turned rowdier, some even daring to publicly show their affections to each other. Wren was called to join a group outside the cornerclub with friendly smiles and warm drinks, but he declined the offer and instead faced the tall looming tower ahead. The easiest part of his plan was now done, and it would only get harder from here on. Smirking at the face of the challenge, Wren tugged the sigilkey safely in his pocket and began to make his way toward the First Magister tower.

[kinkedquill]

every time I notice a grammar mistake, I tell myself it's intentional because only God is perfect, and I’m not gonna vex that bitch.

[kinkedquill]

His Blood Stains My Skin - Part III: Meat For The Hounds

A trans hero's punishment is not over yet. He is brought to face the villain's pack of hellhounds for even more humiliation.

┃ M / M┃ Trans x Cis┃ Dubcon ┃ Age gap ┃ Monster sex (hellhounds) ┃ Humiliation ┃ BDSM ┃

Crawling through the camp, the demon's seed still dripping down my thighs, I felt defiled and defeated, yet the heat burning inside me wanted more. The ash made the ground soft enough to clamber through, even though beneath it lay only gravel and stones. When the rest of the army saw me like that, the jeering began again along with the laughter. A former hero ashamed by the very villain he was trying to defeat. Sidaraq tugged the chain now and then to make sure I followed his lead, to show me my true place beneath him and his kin. My mouth was too sore from the abuse that I could beg for him to take me back to the tent, not to hide my shame, but for him to allow his generals to exploit me again and again, but the warlord had other plans for me, and I was led through the ash-ridden land to the other side of the camp and soon a terrible howling found its way into my ears.

The hellhounds, I thought to myself with dread creeping back inside my stained soul. I had seen them on the battlefield, men and women who had been turned into terrible wolf-like creatures by the corruption, ripping apart anyone who dared to defy Sidaraq's rule. Larger than an ember bear, with claws to match their ferocity and dark coats with scars that resembled those of other corrupted. Truly horrible creatures to face in full armour, not to mention meeting them like I was now, nude and vulnerable, and I was led straight to them.

The servants cleaning around the kennel tent, watching my shameful march, dared not to touch me while their master was around, but their eyes did more than enough, licking every part of my body and maybe even imagining what they would do to me if given the chance, and I'm sure Sidaraq allowed this to make my humiliation more thorough. Entering the kennel, ash on my legs switched to hay, and the warlord demened me again. "Act like a bitch in heat, get treated like one," he taunted, and I could almost hear him laugh. My eyes met the terrible gaze of one of the hellhounds that burned with beast-like intelligence, and it began to howl with a deafening tone that sent shivers down my spine. The warlord tugged the chain again, forcing me to follow him next to a low bench that had a curved leather padding covering on it. With ease, he grabbed me by my throat and lifted me up and slammed me belly-first on the bench, the pain of which made me yelp out loud.

"You have slain many of my hounds in the past, I believe it might be time for you to give them a few pups for it," Sidaraq smirked and locked me in my place, tying the chain around me so that I was unable to move. "No!" I yelled in disgust and denial, hoping he would free me or that this nightmare would end, while another voice inside me yelled even louder with a thrill and rapture in its voice. Sidaraq moved back and let out a sharp whistle before leaning against the kennel wall and crossing his hands to witness my next trial. Unable to see the first hound stepping behind me, I could only sense a large presence until a set of huge, clawed paws thudded next to my head, and I could feel the heat emanating from the thick, black fur on the creature. It matched my whimpers with a growl, and suddenly something slimy and hot flopped on my bare lower back, slowly transforming from soft to rigid flesh and moving slowly against my back.

"Please!" I shouted, "Don't do this!" Wherever my words were meant for, the creature or the man who had ordered this, I had no idea. The warlord answered my plea with silence, and the hellhound returned it by grabbing my neck with its teeth. It put enough pressure on it to keep me quiet, yet not enough to draw blood. It then began to thrust its hardened member against my back, and I could feel the pulsing veins through the slime, making me whimper again. The hellhound could have easily ended me with a quick snap of its jaws, but it aimed to keep its master happy and, more than anything, it wanted to use my body for another purpose. The creature's conical tip suddenly hit against my hole with impatient force, and I was glad to realise that the warlord had not removed the chastity belt I was wearing.

The hound might mount me, but I would not give it any pups.

The hellhound growled yet again and slammed another thrust against my back, its member now forcing its tip to spread my rim slightly open, forcing me to try to scream again as I felt its heavy body on top of me. Another slam finally allowed it to enter my sore hole, and I could swear the hellhound howled in victory before pulling its tip out and driving its member halfway through with another thrust. A hellhound was now desecrating me, using my body to please itself and its master. In my mind, I wanted to be horrified by it, but my lustful side wanted once again to take over and enjoy my defilement. It wanted the creature to rip away the only thing that was covering my vestal hole and breed it too, as it did to my asshole. The monster's tensed muscles slammed against my body, driving its member deeper within, and I could feel its furred balls hit against my thighs and the knot at the end of its cock pushing against my rim, wanting to be let in, but my body was fighting it even in its tenderness. Even if my pussy was getting wetter by the moment.

The hellhounds' hips thrusted faster and harder into me when the warlord stepped forward and knelt to meet my wanting eyes. His clawed hand circled my lips before he pushed his thumb inside so I could lick it in heat. "Pl… Please, take the belt and let it breed me…" I mumbled against his thumb, my tongue swirling the hard, ashy surface with great need. There was a glint in his eye that I did not recognise, but it was soon hidden by the indifference I had witnessed so many times before, and I, before I could think about any deeper, the hellhound managed to force its knot inside me and slam its member even deeper with a loud howl. My chained back wanted to arch as another jolt spread throughout my body. I came hard against the leather bench, and I could feel my fluids stain it. The hellhound kept pounding into me, my legs shivering uncontrollably, while I wanted more.

"Look at you…" Sidaraq began, "Some hero you were… Begging for a mere beast to claim you and taking twelve generals before that, such a disappointment…" Some part of me wanted to be hurt by his harsh words, while my lustful side earned them. The demon in front of me grabbed my hair, pulling it and forcing me to look at him straight into those cold, uncaring eyes, "I should leave you here, let my hounds breed you and increase their population litter by litter…" The scent of musk and euphoria reaches my nostrils. I am truly lost to the fervour, and I submit under my ruthless ruler. The hellhound rams its member with another harsh plunge deep inside me and lets out another howl, tensing its body and filling my insides with its seed before pulling out and stepping back. I sigh in dissatisfaction. I wanted more… No, I needed more, and to my luck, the warlord whistles again, and I can feel another set of paws to raise next to my sides. While the first hound was done with me, the warlord had more, and each of them carried a hefty set of balls filled with creamy cum to fill my needy hole.

Without any hesitation or resistance, the second hound slid its cock inside me and began thrusting furiously. It did not grab me by the throat, allowing me to moan against the bench, to cry in bliss as I came again and again. The waves of pleasure washed over me as they had done inside the tent. I wanted to kiss the man who had ordered my defilement, let him know I deserved this punishment, and that I would need a lot more punishment before the night was done. I imagined what it would be like to be impregnated by such a creature, what my belly would look like when they had emptied their seed deep within and how long it would take to swell big enough for me not to see my own toes. The thrilling thought of being a carrier for the beastly kin made a rush of heat spread again all over me, and I came yet again, my insides squeezing the animalistic member ramming into them. The second hellhound growled, pushing its knot inside and coming with me. The great beast's cum seeped from my hole when it pulled out as it left me to be claimed by another of its kind with a satisfied grunt. My body was unable to handle any more, but more it would have when the third monster followed and put its paws next to my shivering body. Sidaraq knelt in front of me, looking at me ashamed, while I hungered for his beasts.

My aching hole took in the third beast with ease, even though its member was wider than the previous two, and my cum-stained tunnel allowed the hefty knot to plop in and out of me with an audible pop. My bound hands did not allow me to touch myself, no matter how much I wanted to. Still not satisfied with my punishment, the Warlord looked into my hazy eyes with disgruntlement. He wanted me to suffer, to abuse me, but he had only attained the second one.

I remembered one night, many years ago, when he was still the man I respected and loved, who wanted to train heroes to face the evil that lingered in the world. It had been a night, and he had trained me all day, pushed my skills to the limits until I was exhausted, and I collapsed to the sand on the training grounds. Bruised and beaten, I heaved against the sand until I felt something unexpected. My beloved mentor's hands were on my ripped trousers, pulling them down when I had no way of denying him and gripping onto my rear forcefully, kneading my cheeks and pushing his equally sweaty body against me. Distracted by my fatigue, I was unable to realise what was happening. My body responded to his touch, no matter how unwanted it might have been and soon I felt his hard member between my cheeks, slowly sliding between them as his cock got larger and hotter. The man had pushed more of his weight on me, sinking my body into the coarse sand, and I could hear his grunts in my ears as he pleasured himself with my body, until he released a sticky load on my back and left me where I lay.

Had it been just a dream? Whatever it had been, right now I wanted to feel the same feeling again. I wanted the Warlord to take me as his generals and hounds had and force me to submit underneath him. I imagined him behind me instead of the horrible beast, sliding in and out with hastened pace like the mad false god he was and make me his broodmare. Somewhere in reality, farther where my mind now was, my muscles spasmed again, and I came again, my whole body shuddering while the beast behind me roared with pleasure and sent a third disgusting load deep inside my body. The blend of three hellhounds' worth of cum poured out of my hole, mixing with the hay on the floor and seeping through it to the ashy ground underneath it. My body cried, aching for being used to completion, but my mind did not want to hear it as the fourth hellhound stepped forward, its hot member hanging proudly under its belly and ready to mount me.

To my disappointment, the Warlord raised his palm and stopped the beast before it could even raise its claws. "That's enough," he commanded, "This will not do. You've had your fun, now it's time for something different." Sidaraq untied my chains, and my spent body collapsed onto the hay floor, still leaking and shivering. To my surprise, I was allowed to take a few moments to recuperate before I felt the familiar tug on my collar. Slowly, I got on my fours, still wishing the warlord would allow the fourth beast to mount me, but I was once again led somewhere else. The jeering and whistling began as soon as we exited the kennel. No one had dared to look inside, but they all knew what had happened. The gathered crowd definitely wanted to piece for themselves, but the warlord would not allow it, even if I had already been decorated by his beasts, made a pet for his pets. Some of his soldiers made vulgar gestures, and although it might have been unthinkable to me before everything, now I imagined how the Warlord could just leave me in the open, allowing his men to take me right there and then. There were at least a hundred soldiers in this camp, thousands if you count the surrounding area, and I wanted to be penetrated by every single one of them. I had already been taken by his hounds; not even the lowest-ranking soldier was beneath me anymore. There was only the horrifying lust swelling inside me that whispered sweet nothings into my ear, promising that if I were a good boy and submitted, there would be an endless wave of euphoria waiting for me.

Whether the warlord was pleased with how the crowd acted or not, his determination did not fade as he led me through it. The hungry crowd kept its distance, and I was not taken by any of them. Only those whom the Warlord seemed fit could defile my abused body, and my next punishment would be delivered swiftly by another creature.

"My captain wants a piece of you, too," Sidaraq scowled, "You took his eye, so now he will have his compensation." My eyes widened with shock and joy as I was led into the stables. I remembered my woe well, the dark centaur lord who had almost taken my life on the battlefield.

This time, I would not meet him with fear in my heart, but with a wanton throbbing between my loins.

[kinkedquill]

His Blood Stains My Skin

Chapter II - Vicious Means

┃ M / M┃ HumanxDemon ┃ Trans x Cis┃ Dubcon ┃ Gangbang ┃Humiliation ┃ +4k Words

A Chosen One is humiliated by a group of demons.

Dragged out of the tent, I could only hear the roaring sounds of shouts and laughter around me in the camp. Everyone in the camp knew that I would be brought out and wanted to take one final look at this so-called hero, to see my disgrace before their world-ending leader would take out his punishment on me and terribly end my miserable life. The mere glance at me was more than they needed to continue their war efforts, to bring the world to its knees, and to follow every word of their dark lord. As I was taken to the center of the camp, I could feel the falling hot ash hit my bare skin, staining it with grey spots. Some onlookers scraped my already tender skin with their weapons, not deep enough to leave behind wounds, but just enough to lash it with small red welts that prickled. Harming me anymore would be a sin; their leader wanted me unharmed so he could claim all of my suffering for himself, and they were afraid of him more than anything else in the whole world. It was almost certainly the reason why they had chosen to follow him, even if he had plied them with promises of power and riches; it was the fear of him that made them do unthinkable things, and in a twisted way, the same fear was what kept me safe from them.

I could see the winding path ahead of me, leading to the center of the war camp and the large tent in the middle of it, which held the throne of the mad god and a dining area for his generals deep within. There, I would meet my fate and give at least something back to the world; hopefully, my sacrifice would be enough to distract them from the real chosen one, give them enough time to find their path, and end this terrible reign.

Taken inside the tent by the guards, the roaring got almost deafening as the dark lords' generals raised their mugs and shouted their battle cries. A trophy had been won, and it was in the shape of me. I raised my head to give a quick glance around me, why? that I do not know, maybe I wanted to see their faces, see the growing corruption in a vain attempt to hope that soon that smirk would be wiped from them, the crackling blue around their eyes darkening as the prophecy would come true and all this would be nothing but a bad dream to the people of this land, to the future generations who would not have be afraid of the dark lord and his army anymore. I looked at each of them with deep hatred in my eyes. My face might have lied to them that I had been defeated, but deep within me, there was something else, a truth that spelled their fate with whispers. These men were monstrous, and their demonic appearance only amplified that deduction. Their nails were more like claws, and the healthy red in their skin had turned to ashen grey with the corruption.

I took what little comfort I could from the idea that their doom would bring to the world and brought my gaze towards the man who would be my executioner as the guards dropped me on my knees in front of him with my hands still chained behind my back, vulnerable and alone, surrounded by men far bruthis than I.

In the middle of the tent sat Warlord Sidaraq, my former mentor. As soon as my eyes met his burning gaze, I felt like I was once again a pupil underneath him. Yet, there was nothing in his deep blue eyes that resembled the familiarity we used to have; the eyes might belong to the man who had once trained me with harsh kindness, but the man behind them was no longer in this world. Instinctively, I felt myself avert his stern gaze, fearing whatever punishment he would bestow upon me, as I did as a child. "Pathetic," said the deep voice that had been mixed with demonic whispers, a voice that could get under one's skin even if one wasn't even looking at the man.

As soon as the Warlord opened his mouth, the whole tent fell silent, giving room for the only one who deserved such attention. The warlord's eyes were fixed on me now. The glowing gaze in his eyes contrasted the deep, dark grey of his corrupted skin that crackled with the same cold burning, demonic veins as his closest followers had, and with the four large horns on his head, it was no wonder people shivered from the mere look. The man before me made the man in my memories look like a frail old man, whereas this one had vigor etched into his muscles.

I could see his clawed hand clasp into a fist, and he hit the armrest of his dark throne. "Even as my enemy, you still bring me great shame, Khayr," Sidaraq scorned, "To be caught by my general? Disappointing. I thought I had trained you better." The Warlord's words stung, bolstering my pitiful existence in this wretched place and making me feel even smaller before him. What made everything even worse was the way he said my name. Hidden in his hateful tone, I thought I could suddenly hear the same fatherly love he had once felt towards me and his other pupils. A glimpse of hope inside me lit up. Maybe I could do a little more than be the sacrificial lamb for the real chosen one? Maybe there was still time to reach my old mentor.

Yet almost as soon as the hope inside me began to burn again, it was diminished almost as quickly when the warlord spoke again. "If humiliation is what you brought me, then humiliation is what you shall have in return," Sidaraq ordered and flicked his claw towards one of his generals, who rouse from his seat and brought a golden metal belt to me, locking it around my waist and clasping a similar, tight collar on my neck, which was tied to the belt with a chain. The belt ran between my thighs, putting pressure on my most sacred and opened up from behind, while the collar had me gasping for air, even the slightest movement of my head. The general's wide smirk made me realize soon enough that these items were only the beginning of my torture and that my actual punishment would be their reward.

The man gave one quick look at the Warlord, who, without getting up, had ordered my first humiliation, nodded back, and the general turned back to me, digging his hands into my skin, feeling it with great hunger and making me feel even more fragile. Yet, the way his rough hands touched my skin felt good, like my body wanted to tell me I was deserving of this punishment even if my mind wanted to scream. His hands grasped and pinched my skin, leaving a few red marks and a lingering stinging pain in its wake. Another general joined the man kneeling in front of me, grasping my neck by the collar and pulling my head back while taking in my scent just behind my ear. They wrapped my upper body with leather straps, and soon I felt those same straps pulling me slightly up. I was at the mercy of the dark lords' generals, and there would be no mercy for me to be had here.

Without any emotion in his eyes, Sidaraq watched as his general's hands violated my body, touching every inch of it while touching themselves. The two men were now joined by another three, all five towering now over me. Only the general who had used me in the tent before was missing, leaving me alone with eleven of his peers. All who were now pleasuring themselves at the sight of me wiggling helplessly against my restraints. Someone's lips found my neck and began to greedily kiss and nip at it, forcing me to let out a barely muffled gasp, and I could hear one of them laugh out loud.

"I think our chosen one likes this!" The man hollered, and to my shame, I had to agree with him whether I liked it or not.

"Then you need to do a better job," Warlord growled from his throne, "Make him pay for what he did! Humiliate him!" Immediately, I could feel teeth brush against my skin, biting into it, and I gasped again, this time from the sudden pain, even though it had been woven into the pleasure. One of the men pushed his hips against me, allowing me to feel his throbbing hard on through his clothes, something which quickly woke me up from the blend of pleasure and agony. Unlike the first general, these men would not stop until they had violated me; all this had been ordered by their master, and soon they would defile my body in a way no other man ever had.

"Please, stop!" I yelled, a desperate sound that was quickly muffled by a pair of lips pressing against mine and a tongue forced down my throat, eagerly pistoning in to shut me up. The long, warm tongue felt good in my cold mouth, and the forked tip reached all the way back of my throat, exploring it with a great need. Another set of rough hands was placed on my waist, pulling me back so I could feel the pulsing member shoved between my thighs. The belt covered my front, but with my exposed behind, I knew what would follow sooner or later. Unable to stop myself, I could feel my fluids drip between us, slathering the fat member moving between my legs and endearing my tormentors even more.

"By the fallen divines, if only Sidaraq would allow us to keep you," one of the generals shouted, "You'd make a lovely pet for the barracks!" I welped against the mouth forced on me as a sudden jolt of pain hit me, as another demon slammed my rear with an open palm, certainly leaving his handprint on it. Between the pleasure and the pain, I had to wonder if that would have been something I'd have wanted, to be abused by these men, maybe even the rest of the army. Tossed between them like I was nothing but a hole for them to relieve themselves with, without any second thoughts, forever submitting to their will until they had conquered the whole world. To my horror, I realized that right now, it was all I wanted, my desires taking over my mind and begging me to surrender myself to them.

The tongue in my mouth withdrew, and I was finally freed from the forceful kissing. I tried to glance at the man who had judged me and ordered my torture, only to see him unmoved, looking at me with boredom, like this was nothing more than another ordinary command for him. Unlike his men, he took no pleasure in my suffering, yet still kept a watchful eye over me, to make sure everything would be done according to his will. Something which made me feel even more ashamed.

With another slap on my cheeks, I suddenly slumped forward, my behind now raised higher, and the top of my body falling slightly down as I hung helplessly in the air. A third slap reddened my rear, and the fat cock that had been between my legs now slammed against my lower back, wetted by my own fluids and added balm.

"Too bad he won't let us use your pussy," the general behind me purred, "I'd love to fill your womb with my seed, but this will do too!" he laughed and began to stroke his hardened cock on my back, dipping it between my cheeks every now and then to tease me and himself, coaxing me to let out anticipatory whimpers. The chastity belt was loose enough to allow one of the men to slip his hand inside it and to find my throbbing clit. My hands were unrestrained from their chains, and two of the men grabbed each arm, guiding my hands over their swollen members and forcing me to touch them while a fifth one took his place right in front of me, pulling his member out and placing the reddened tip on my lips, after slapping my cheek with his cock.

"Now, be a good little whore and submit," a deep voice behind me said, "Every one of us is going to use you like the little slut you are." The man's words made the warmth inside me spread, and my mind went into a stupor. I could feel myself changing as every single drop of defiance left my body. Maybe it was the collar restricting my airways or the pressure on my clit, but no matter how much they wanted me, I wanted them even more. Submitting myself to these demons, I had no other obligations, and while unfolding underneath them, I had become free.

The man before circled my lips with his tip, leaving faint trails of precum over them before slowly beginning to push his cock inside. At the same moment, I could feel the general behind me prod against my open hole, spreading my rim wider to allow him to be the first one to defile it. The thick air around us was filled with the sounds of pleasure as the two demons entered me gradually, filling me with their cocks while two generals at my sides forced my hands to move on their sheaths, making me pleasure them whilst my clit was vigorously massaged by one of them.

All eleven generals were huddled around me, those without room to violate my body pleasured themselves, getting ready for me as soon as given the chance, and I was all for it. Deep inside me, I had a craving that was only growing stronger by the moment. I would be a good boy and submit to them, allow them to use my body, and be eager to have each one of them inside me, to violate me until they were finished, if not even longer. Demon cock was nothing ordinary; they had a cone-like tip with rows of large, firm beads around the pole running all the way to the hefty ballsacks with pulsing veins. These cocks were meant for rapid entry and to pump out rivaling cum in the process, the perfect tool for breeding and spreading their kind by impregnation. A truly horrifying thought to anyone with any sense in their heads, and I had eleven of them waiting for me.

Spreading my tunnel wide, the hefty member inside my ass stopped suddenly, as the large balls hit against my metal-covered pussy. While there was more room to enter inside me, this one had reached its limit and began to slowly back away, pushing back inside carefully until the demon found his pace, shoving his member in and out of my hole and groaning behind me. I wanted to moan against the cock inside my mouth, which seemed to swell from the excitement even more. My tongue found the small slit on the tip of it, and I rolled my tongue on it, taking in the leaking, spicy precum while swinging on the straps. Being at the generals’ mercy felt good, better than anything I had ever done before, and my punishment turned into an award of its own with each forceful thrust.

The loud moans growing inside the tent had to be heard from the outside as the final general entered the tent. As excited as he had been when he had tried to take me for the first time, he joined the others, waiting for his turn to finish what he had started, and watching as I was being defiled by his fellow demons. Abruptly, the teasing of my clit sent a quickly spreading wave of bliss all over my body, making me twitch and squeeze my muscles as it reached the tip of my toes all the way to the top of my head. My wanton hole milked the cock thrusting in, and soon I could hear a loud growl coming from behind me, and suddenly my hole was filled with his scorching seed, tainting my insides with it. The demon let his softening cock stay inside me until his balls were emptied before pulling away and giving room for another eager general who wasted no time plunging in with an even longer member. They had no reason to let me adjust to their different sizes or rough pommeling, and I didn’t want any.

The general before me thrusted against my throat with a few more long strokes and released his fertile seed deep within, filling my mouth with it so much that I had to gag, yet the man kept his hands on my head, grasping my hair while forcing me to swallow it all. He pulled away with almost pensive look on his face, "Too bad my seed goes to waste, you'd look perfect gravid," he said before moving away and allowing fourth general to take his place, who similarly grasped me tightly by the hair and made me take in all of his width with one shove, pushing his coarse hairs against my face until tears rolled on my cheeks.

With two of the twelve generals pleased, I was filled not only with their seed, yet there was an ever-growing lust for more burning inside me. They treated me as nothing but a cocksleeve, and I wanted to be that, to take everything they could shove inside me and be filled by the demonic seed. I wanted them to take off my belt and to breed me like they had threatened to, to fill my womb with their seed, to see who would be the first to claim me as their broodmare. The growing bliss inside me turned into another wave of pleasure, and my whole body began to shake once again. I eagerly sucked the cock inside my mouth, hoping it would slam even deeper within. One man slapped my rear again, and the stinging pain sent me over the edge. I could feel myself sink into a depth I had never felt before, deep into a darkness where there was no coming back from, as my mind turned to mush.

The second load filled my mouth, this time some of it dripping down my chin, no matter how quickly I tried to swallow it all. The general in front of me wiped all he could back over my lips with a pleased look on his face, "You're such a good boy, trying to lap it all up like the good little whore you are." He chuckled, moving to the side so the next man could take his turn. To my surprise, two demons stepped up before me and wetted their tips with the leaking cum on my chin, spreading it all over with their cocks and relishing in the sight of my hazy, wanting eyes. "Open up, boy, this time you have to take two for one!" The man on my left laughed, and I did as I was told, opening my mouth as wide as I could so both men could enter my mouth at the same time. Taking in two was a lot harder, and with both thrusting in and out at different paces, almost making me miss the moment the demon behind me filled my hole with the second load, spreading his seed further than the man before him.

"Two for one, you say, hmm?" I could hear a voice say, "Let's see how many he can take in the ass." With my focus on the two large cocks slamming into my mouth I had barely time to realize the two demons settling behind me, lining two tips against my already sore hole before spreading it open with force. The sudden double attack made my body shiver again, and the wave of euphoria made my limbs go limp as I hung in the leather contraption. My swinging movement was slowed only momentarily as the third cock was placed against my rear, joining the other two and spreading me even wider. With five cocks inside me and my eyes rolling back I had no idea how the men had managed to position themselves in a way that allowed them to take me at the same time, and with whatever rational thoughts I still had left in my shameless mind, I didn't even want to know. All I wanted and needed was more, and I had already been filled past the point of no return.

Two more men shot their loads inside me and were replaced by other generals. Had I already been filled by all of them? Were there more generals than I had previously known, or had the first one rested enough already to take the second round with me? All these questions inside me vanished almost as quickly as they came; no answer would satisfy as much as their veiny cocks did. The roaring, moaning sounds around me were deafening, and whatever dark magic ran inside their veins made their thirst insatiable. They would take me again and again without any breaks between, and I would be left in an eternal blissful state, a former hero turned into a fucktoy, a punishment and a relief in the same beautiful package.

The demons switched their places, abusing me further while their seed stained my face, spilling over as I could not take in more, their fluids drenching down my thighs, leaving small pools of slimy whiteness underneath me. Now each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure inside me, and even when asked a simple, mocking question, I had already forgotten how to speak or think properly. All I could do was beg for more, and the warlords' generals were more than willing to provide, using my two holes as their breeding ground.

Yet, there still was a place I ached more than anything to be used, to be bred and claimed, and when I could feel someone fumbling with the belt lock, a newly found vigor woke me from my blissful state. The general who had been alone with me tried to open it, to claim his price as his own demonic lust had made him forget the fear he had for the dark lord. The men around him seemed either to be too engaged with pleasuring themselves again and again with my body or too excited to follow his lead. Momentarily, I gave him a quick glance to allow him to see how much I needed to be bred by someone, anyone, before turning back to the pulsing member in front of me, hungrily taking it in my mouth to be filled again with demonic seed. I enjoyed the spicy taste in my mouth, gulping down all of the creamy goodness I was gifted with once again.

The belt slipped off, and the first general was more than eager to claim his price, placing his hefty cock between my lips and giving it a few good strokes, drenching it with my wetness before getting ready to enter. The thought of this man entering me and getting me pregnant enthralled me; to be claimed by him and to be subjected to his demonic needs filled my mind, almost driving me insane. The roaring around us got even louder, and I could feel his sizzling tip probe against my pussy. With one swift plunge, his member would be inside, and his already cum-soaked cock would claim my womb. The others would follow his example, and it would be a miracle to determine whose seed would reach my ripe sanctum first.

Yet, just mere moments before the demon could tarnish my womb, the warlord was quick to act. A booming roar silenced the room, and the demon behind me was hit with a large warhammer. My lustful haze was replaced by the same fear everyone else was feeling, and the warlord made sure all the other demons backed away, too.

"I gave you an order and I'm expecting every one of you to follow it. I told you not to claim him, and I will not let you do so!" Sidaraq shouted to his generals, who cowered in fear. "Since you can't follow my simple orders, your fun is now over," he pointed at one of the generals before adding, "Put the belt back on him, he will not be claimed until I say so!" and the man locked the belt back over my waist, much to my and their dismay. When Sidaraq stepped closer to me as if checking I had not been touched, I put my hands on his hips in a desperate attempt to undress him and to have him violate me instead, only to be slapped away and dropped back to my knees.

"Pathetic… You call this a punishment? I should have expected better of you, " the warlord growled to his men before turning to face the demon who had tried to claim me, "As for you… You will be punished for defying my orders," Sidaraq turned back to the rest of his men, "Since you all seem to be more than eager to continue, you can have him!" And like a horde of rapid beasts, the eleven generals stepped towards the man who had tried to claim me twice. The look in their eyes told me they were going to do to him the same thing they had done to me. He would be bred, and with their demonic blood, he would most certainly be claimed and impregnated, something that would not only dishonor him but also forfeit his rank as a general.

The warlord removed my leather harness, and I dropped to the ground on all fours, barely able to hold myself up or catch my breath when Sidaraq suddenly tucked the chain tied to the collar. "Come," he ordered, "Crawl like the dog you are, because your night is not done just yet!" With the last drops of the demon seed pouring out of me into the ground, I crawled with shaking hands and legs next to the dark lord. Humiliated once again, not only taking pleasure in being violated by his men, but also for being forced to crawl on a leash. Sidaraq tucked the leash once again and led me outside the tent to face my next punishment. With us leaving the tent, the blissful, feral moans inside it grew louder and louder as the former general’s breeding began.

[kinkedquill]

Breeding Grounds

A terrible creature prowls in the Black Bellmouth forest, looking for its next mate.

Erotica/Horror ┃ Monster x Human┃ M x Monster ┃ Dubcon ┃ +3k Words ┃

Content Warning: Body horror, slight gore, oviposition.

The hiking boots that had fit nicely mere hours ago on Algy’s feet had now left painful blisters on his feet that had opened more than a hundred paces ago, but even with the raw pain in his feet and lungs, Algy had no time to stop because the creature following him was not going to stop either. The late fall frost had already covered the ground, and each step Algy took sent the sound of crunching grass all around the Black Bellmouth forest. There was no way the creature did not know where he was going, and hiding was no longer an option. All Algy could do was run, and as far as Algy knew, the only place he could escape to was the old mine just beyond the forest that was still somehow operational even after the years of decline. The men there had to fend for themselves against wolves and bears; surely their guns would work against even the creature gaining on him.

Now, Algy only hoped he had picked the right direction.

Algy did not dare to look behind him; the inhumane growls the creature was spitting were enough to let him know he was running against the clock. One by one, the monster had picked his hiking group, dragging them into the darkness before they had had any time to act, and when they had, it had already been too late. Most of them were gone, and Algy was the only survivor. Vielat’s coagulated blood on his face was everything that was left of the others, along with their screams he swore he could still hear echoing in his head. The brisk night air filled Algy’s lungs as he reached the end of the thicket, leaving him closer to his goal, yet also more vulnerable. The creature following him was a large one, and the forest might have slowed it down a bit, but here in the open, it would have more room to roam. The man took one quick glance at the bright night sky above him, sparing a small moment to wonder at its beauty before the terrifying screeches coming from behind him told him to run again. With the terror running havoc in his brain, there was not much room to think about anything other than survival, maybe not even that. All Algy could concentrate on was the next step he would take in the utter darkness, while the adrenaline rushing in his veins did everything else.

He could just barely spot the small, orange lights in the distance set by the Beira Digging Company, marking the outside of the Bleakfall Burrow. Algy still had more than four hundred paces to bridge the distance between him and the mine, yet the tiny hope inside his mind told him he was closer to safety than the creature, a sweet little lie if nothing else. Had Algy not known better, seeking cover in the workers’ trailers would have been his first thought, but he had seen the creature rip apart a log with its large claws, like it was the kind of paper used in the shittiest rest stops. What it could do to a human body, the man did not even dare consider. Running on the shale rock mountain side made Algy almost stumble, but he managed to keep his balance just barely. The half-frozen mud underneath the stones made each of his steps more precarious than the one before it, and it felt like his movement speed was halved, even with the burst of energy inside him that was the only thing separating him from a prey. Yet, in the blink of an eye, Algy made a decision he was going to soon regret.

After almost slipping again for the second time, Algy decided to look behind him.

Far too close to his liking, he could distinguish a large shape coming after him, its heavy claws hitting the muddy ground, and a thunderous sound of its weight now audible even under Algy’s heavy breathing and quickly beating heart. Where Algy struggled to run, the monster’s weight gave it more stability as its claws sank into the slope. Algy turned his head and began to run faster, more rashly, wobbling ahead, feeling the last shreds of hope leave him. The little lights grew larger right before him, but not fast enough, and the low growling behind him got closer, and soon he felt something gnaw at his calf. A quick, sharp, painful scream echoed through the mountainside as the creature sank its teeth into the tender muscle, making Algy hit the hard ground in an instant. He tried to crawl away, but the beast wouldn’t let him go, no matter what god he would pray to. Algy struggled against its hold, screaming and kicking as it dragged him back into the forest, deeper into the darkness and cover of the canopy. His hiking gear gave him a little cover as the shale cut into Algy’s skin. Leaving a stinging pain slightly eased by the brisk ground.

Here, even in the darkness surrounding them, Algy could finally see his hunter closer than ever before, and what he saw was straight from his worst nightmares. The large creature was bigger than any other animal he had ever seen, and far more gruesome. It was made from the same raw flesh as his aching heels ripped by his boots. Wherever it had eyes or not, Algy could not tell underneath its body as it finally stopped dragging him once they crossed the tree line. The creature released him from its razors and seemed to examine its shivering prey, who had already readying himself for the final bite, hoping it all would be over sooner rather than later, although the screams he had heard once his hiking friends had been taken away proved otherwise. The grotesque monster sniffed him with its almost bear-like, elongated snout, almost as if it wanted to make sure its prey would not dare to run away—something Algy would not dare to do anymore.

“Just do it,” Algy shivered before adding, “End it now.” The creature answered his prayer with a deafening howl that was mixed with an almost human-like scream coming from deep within its throat. Letting Aldy know that, no, this creature would not grant such pleas, as for it, this was no hunt for meal, but for something far more sinister.

The creature roared again and bit into Algy’s hiking pants, ripping them apart with ease. The human underneath its teeth screamed in terror as his lower part was exposed, his now bare groin feeling the mix of hot breath by the monster and the crisp night air. First, they go for the soft parts, like eyes and belly, Algy thought in horror, suddenly remembering every horrible fact he had learned while looking for missing people. Whatever this beast was, it was not something he had ever learned or even heard about. He had come here for leisure, not for voluntary help, even though Algy had heard that people had gone missing in this very forest for the past few months. Had he helped or reported if he had seen something during his trip? Sure, but he had not been actively seeking anyone. His mind reminded him of all the missing person posters he had seen near the visitor center and about the quaint local radio show, where the hosts had talked about the missing people. Someone in the car had been worried about it; was it Vielat? What had he told them? People go missing all the time; there is nothing to worry about. There had been a large earthquake in the area; things like that happen.

You will be safe with me.

The creature pushed its long, pointed tongue out of its maw and gave a slimy lick to Algy’s nether regions to the man’s shock. The gooey saliva felt warm against Algy’s bare skin, followed by a tingly sensation, which confused the hurt human even more. The monster’s slithery tongue moved to lick his groin again, gliding all the way down to his still slightly covered behind and pushing past his cheeks, brushing its goo on his puckered hole. Algy let out an unwanted cry as he felt it along with the growing tingling sensation on his cock. Nothing in this situation seemed what it should have been; no beast would treat their prey like this, and even Algy knew it. Any thoughts about being a mere meal were disposed of as soon as the creature’s pointed tongue entered his hole, slithering inside it and spreading the same slimy saliva inside him. Algy let out another barely muffled moan as his arousal got the better of him; the pain he was feeling earlier shifted, becoming more muted and enhancing his arousal, making Algy quickly believe that the goo he had been slathered with must have other properties than a mere tingling sensation. Instead of expected burning agony, there was now a slight throb gleaming inside him, making him feel almost paralyzed. The creature withdrew its tongue and drove it back inside Algy’s ass, feeling his body from the inside and readying him for what’s to come.

Algy squirmed slightly on the frozen ground, trying to grasp at something to grab onto or anything to get out of this growingly weird situation, but his hands only found wilted plants and brisk stones. His own cock now in half-mast, Algy glanced behind the four-legged beast and saw the large pouch between its hind legs. Slowly, the pouch opened up, and a bulgy, slime-covered member similar to that of a reptile with a tear-shaped, wavy tip began to erect from deep within, growing into a size far longer than Algy’s very human leg with almost as much width as his muscular thigh. As soon as Algy realized what it was, the rest of it protruded out and revealed four large sags hanging from the base, swollen with the creature’s terrible spawn. Algy was not going to be its meal; he was becoming its mate.

Four appendages like the monster’s tongue sprang out of its back and attacked Algy’s squirming body, two slipping underneath his shredded shirt to keep him still, and the other two forced their way inside his mouth, pushing past his dried lips as deep as they could, reaching past his throat and making it bulge from the width. They moved back and forth, slithering Algy’s face with the same, tingling fluid, numbing him from their assault. The man gasped for air while the creature’s real tongue violated his hole. Algy wanted to beg it to stop, not wanting to be defiled by such a monster. At the same time, his animalistic instincts were taking over him, the fear and the desire being close companions, his mind fighting against his needing body. Whatever reason the monster had for taking him like this, Algy didn’t know yet. Still, in the fight against his lustful side, he realized that the screams he had heard in the forest by his fellow hikers had not been from the pain or fear, or maybe they had been that at first, but then those same shrieks had turned to the same ones he was now letting out between the forceful tonguing; to the screams of pleasure.

Algy’s erect tip began to leak with precum, staining his shaft while he moaned and cried against the tongue-like appendages in his mouth. The firm, yet slimy tentacles were rough, moving past what should have been humanly possible and stretching Algy’s throat wide open. Somewhere deep in his mind, the man still had some sense in him, wondering why the creature was doing it. What little biology Algyn had learned during his time in school, he had always thought animals seldom mated for pleasure, even if this one was nothing like he had ever seen before. His violation had to have a purpose, yet he was male; there was no womb to be impregnated, and animals should only breed for reproduction. The creature had no intentions to quit either way in the wake of Algy’s less than stellar academic knowledge; it kept shoving its members in and out of Algy’s body as if he was its little cocksleeve, pumping its gooey slime inside him, some of it pouring out of him with each thrust, spreading the tingling sensation all over Algy’s body until it was ready to explode from the sensation. With a sudden jolt and arched back, Algy came, shooting a few ropes of his seed onto his groin and shuddering in euphoria.

Not caring nor noticing the human’s sudden blissful state, the creature clawed at his clothes, removing the last shredded parts of his trousers, and withdrew its tongue from Algy’s hole while its tentacles kept pushing inside his mouth. The monster adjusted its heavy member against Algy’s hole and growled, which momentarily woke the human from his ecstasy. It was not asking him for permission or warning him of what was to come.

It growled from the excitement.

The fleshy creature cared little for the human’s pleasure; it was here to take what it wanted, but to the man’s blessing, his mind had been taken over by enthralling bliss. Nothing was going to stop it now; he could only enjoy the ride as long as it lasted. The creature thrusted its muscled hips forward, missing Algy’s gaping hole just barely. It readied itself again for another push, this time hitting its mark with its flared, pitcher-like tip and forcing Algy’s used hole to make room for it, stretching him open so much that he had to spread his legs as wide as he could, reaching the limit of his mobility. The human let out a similar cry he had heard when his friends had been taken, which was soon muffled by the tentacles returning to plow his abused throat. The creature’s pole slid in with terrible force, impaling the man going insane, reaching his guts. Algy could see the massive member bulging his stomach from the inside, which somehow seemed to reach all the way to his rib cage. The impossible sight made Algy’s eyes widen from the terror for a moment, yet there was only a slight pain surrounding his rim where the creature’s mast spread the widest and nowhere else. Whatever the creature had done to him had made the human’s body more applicable to its width and length. The whirling tentacles inside Algy’s mouth might have even reached the pole assaulting his back while exploring his insides, doing something more to him for the sake of prepping his body for something it was not supposed to be able to do, to mold him and rearrange his insides for a specific purpose.

The monster’s fleshy balls hit against Algy’s buttocks with an audible smack, and it withdrew its hefty member from the aching hole. Algy could feel the bulgy tip hit against his entrance, not allowed to leave by his still spasming muscles, which seemed to suit the monster just fine. Now it knew it could mount the poor human without tearing him apart, and it could begin to breed him. Without any warning, the creature bucked its hips and drove its member all the way back inside Algy, who screamed against the tentacles with tears in his eyes, only for the creature to back out and ram itself repeatedly inside him, ruthlessly using him as its barely willing mate and target of its battering ram. Each shove seemed more forceful and faster than the one before it as the monster quickened its movements, pleasing itself with the much smaller human. The frozen ground beneath them had turned into a mushy mix of mud and thawed grass, offering little padding as Algy’s body was used, his mind turning to jell from the pleasure, staining his once blond hair to a brown mess. Algy lolled helplessly as the creature’s member pulled him into the air and slammed him back against the ground with each merciless thrust, pushing his body deeper into the mud. He wanted to be taken by the creature, to be its little breeding hole. Whatever he was before this was now gone, while the creature slammed into him, spreading him impossibly wide with its abominable tool.

Algy felt the hot cockhead inside him to open up as did the ones inside his mouth, while the creature kept slamming into him harder and harder. Suddenly, a slick substance began to fill his throat and hole, leaking into him to brace his insides for something more. The creature let out a howling screech into the night air and slammed Algy to the ground, and he felt the massive shafts pulsate as they released even more fluid, along with the first eggs. One by one, the creature released its fist-sized eggs inside him, filling him up to carry them to term, howling loudly while its fertilized eggs pushed inside Algy. The human’s belly began to swell from the eggs, quickly protruding out like that of an eight-month pregnant woman. Algy’s willing body sucked in each egg the creature could muster, giving them a warm place to incubate, and when his over-inflated belly finally stopped growing. The creature gave him a few more thrusts to secure its eggs deep inside him, and Algy’s body convulsed against its flesh in an orgasm, allowing the eggs to clutch even deeper inside.

Steadily, the creature first withdrew its tentacles from Algy’s mouth, giving him finally room to breathe properly, even with the massive amounts of eggs inside him, weighing him down. His body wanted to keep the monster inside him, and as it began to pull out of his hole, it dragged Algy’s listless body a few paces back with it before permanently popping out of him and leaving a trail of its gooey fluids on the ground. Algy could only spare a few thoughts to his fallen friends, hoping that they, too, were experiencing the same bliss somewhere deep in the forest as he was. Swollen to the brim by the monster and waiting to lay its eggs when the time came, he even hoped to see it as he thought about them for the one last time. The monster huffed at Algy, releasing wisps of breath from its large nostrils as its member slowly withdrew back into the pouch it came from, undoubtedly still filled with enough seed to impregnate another unsuspecting hiker or maybe the miners far above the canopy that hid them both.

The creature had done its part and left Algy all alone in the forest, beginning its prowl once again. The man paid little attention to the monster leaving, enjoying the flowing bliss inside him and barely managing to reach his hand over his belly. Algy brushed it carefully with a wide, tired smile on his face, feeling the eggy bumps just underneath his stretched skin, promising silently to be their guardian and a perfect host. He took in the scent of the thawed ground and the scent of the monster’s seed; both sharing the same earthly tone that Algy had learned to love while hiking in the woods before closing his eyes, fulfilled.

It wouldn’t be until a while that he would finally come to his senses and realize the horror of his condition, long before the creature would come for him again.

[transfemmbeatrice]

sometimes the cool worldbuilding leads to great porn. sometimes the great porn leads to cool worldbuilding. this is known as the circle of life

[kinkedquill]

His Blood Stains My Skin - Part I

┃ M / M┃ Trans x Cis┃ Dubcon ┃ Age gap ┃

A Chosen One is captured and taken by his worst enemy.

Content Warning: Trans man submitting and having pre op genitals. Consent is earned with moans.

•──────•

I could feel the still-warm ashes against my knees as they buried into the soft, grey ground underneath the shackles abrading against my wrists. Outside the tent, the freshly fallen ash would have burned my bare skin, but inside, I was somewhat safe from it, a thought which gave me a little comfort, as I knew what was going to happen soon. Forced on my knees and strapped to the deep black chains holding my body propped upright, I chastised myself for getting caught, for not being the Wayfarer that had been prophesied to bring down the calamity, who would bring the end of the known and unknown worlds with them - my own mentor. The man whom I had looked up to and seen as my father-like figure, far longer than my actual father.

Tonight had been supposed to be the first strike to end it all, to turn the tide against the man possessed and corrupted by an elder god. I had found the amulet that would give me and my group the upper hand, and I had the prophecy to back me up. Yet something had gone wrong, and the small army of loyal men and women I had acquired had been slain, my friends had disappeared- some had been perhaps captured, others might be dead - I did not know, and I feared that I would never learn what had happened to them. At first, I had wondered why I had not been killed outright, only to be reminded that the man who wanted me dead also liked to play games and for everything I had done to him in order to stop his plans, my former shell of a mentor would pay back tenfold, starting with my capture and ending with excruciatingly long death.

The chains holding me in place had buried themselves deep into my wrists, and I could feel the growing numbness spreading into my fingers, a pain which was only increased by the still lingering stinging burning on my chest from a strike that had brought me down. It had been a gaping wound only a few hours ago, but now there was only a large scar closed by the divine magic running in my blood. By the mercy, or malevolence, of the Divines, I had survived a blow that would have brought lesser men to the Death’s gates, and by their choice, I would have to bear the burden of my demise.

I spared a few thoughts for my friends, hoping they were still alive somewhere, and I wished the prophecy had been a lie after all, that the real Wayfarer was still somewhere out there waiting to be found. For all the good I might have been able to do, I had not been the true chosen one, not by a long shot, and I could only hope that my death would bring the proper Wayfarer forward.

I flinch as the tent opens, fearing I'd see the man who would torture me soon enough, only to see another older man, one of the twelve generals of the Warlord, from the looks of him. The tall and broad-shouldered man looks at me with disgust in his sapphire blue eyes, which mark him almost as corrupted as my former mentor, along with the soot-ridden grey skin of his hidden only somewhat by the pearlescent armor made from the carapaces of the ardenback beetles. I can feel the man's eyes trail across my pitiful body, a gaze which would not find the hero he had been told to be wary of. For him, there were only bruises left on my pale gold skin and defeat in my dark eyes.

"Some Wayfarer were you, huh?" the man finally breaks his silence as he brushes his braided, dark beard and circles me like a nighten beast looking for its prey. "I was expecting to see more, the tales say you can breathe fire, swipe armies off without even looking, and even fly if you need to escape," the man added with a jeer in his gravelly voice.

"A real Wayfarer might be able to do that, but not me," I answered listlessly, not even raising my eyes from the ashes to meet his. If I had, I would have seen the flash of dread in the eyes of the man who was taunting me before vanishing into his affirming question. "… But you are Khayr of Tael, the only surviving student of the Warlord Sidaraq, yes?" The slight hesitation in his voice made me almost let out a small chuckle: We both had thought that I had been the Wayfarer, but once the truth about my status came to light and found its way into the ears of the Warlord, the general would certainly be slain for failing to capture the real one.

"I am," I replied back to the general, finally raising my gaze from the ground to see his grimace turn into a gleeful smile. "Then you are the Wayfarer," he added with a smirk on his face. There was no point in arguing with him, trying to make him see the truth. Whether or not he believed me, there was no surviving this. Even if his killing me instead of dying in the hands of my former mentor might be the quicker way to go, by posing as the Wayfarer, I might still buy time for the real one, and what better way there was to slap the Warlord in the face than living by his teachings of self-sacrifice? As soon as the cold steel of the unsheathed sword hit my skin, I began to doubt my decision. The general skims my skin with his sword, almost drawing blood as he walks around me in an endless circle.

"Good… Good…" The man mumbles to himself, assured by my lies that he has captured the right person. "As much as I'd like to kill you right now, Sidaraq has requested that we bring you to him unharmed, and I'm nothing but if not a loyal servant of his reign," the man taunted me before adding, "But he never asked you to be untouched." I could feel myself gulp out loud, and the general's sword pressing against my skin before pulling away. I let out a loud, scared yelp as the man hit me with the dull side of his curved sword. I can feel my knees dig into the ash beneath me as my heart is getting ready to jolt out of my ribcage.

"For a hero, you have soft and sensitive skin," the man smirks at me, "I would have thought that training years with the Warlord would have made your hide tougher, but you barely have any callouses in your hands. No wonder you failed." I steel myself, allowing him to believe whatever he wants to believe. Knowing I had done at least something to oppose my former mentor's vile plans and praying that he had another student hidden somewhere, maybe even one who had survived his rampage that had destroyed my home. The temple that he had used to train so many of us over the decades had been turned into cinders as soon as the elder god had taken over my mentor's body and soul, fusing with him like a gravestone might fuse with a tree, becoming something new and gruesome.

I let out another uncontrollable cry as the man slaps me with his sword again, relishing in my fear. No matter how many times I've been slashed, burned, or pummeled, I still fear the pain and the death as much as I've tried to deny it. When I had thought myself to be the hero from the legends, I had had some comfort, knowing that there was someone far more powerful than the evil elder god watching over me, protecting me from certain death, but that time was now over, and there was nothing left to catch me as I fall.

I feel another slap as the cold steel hits my skin, whispering to me that the next one might be a deep cut as its kiss leaves a stinging red mark on my skin. The general let out another laugh, revealing his vile nature as he took pleasure in my suffering and fear. Wherever it was, because of the corruption, or just something hidden inside them all along, everything my former mentor had poisoned was bound to turn gruel, and I had seen and heard too much to claim otherwise. Every person and soul he had decided to be worthy enough to be part of his ever-growing army had turned nefarious, and the general was not an exception.

The man knelt before me, sliding the tips of his sword right under my chin and forcing me to look at him. "What a wonderful sound you make when you're afraid, it's like music to my ears," he laughs, "But I must wonder, what sound would you make when feeling pleasure?" The taunting grin in his eyes make my whole body shiver while his sword drags against my body down to my chest, circling the area where I had once had nipples and slowly following the faint trail of dark hair past my navel all the way down to between my legs, pressing against the light bush and the tender skin inside my slid. "D-Don't…" I manage to whisper, my resolution of heroic sacrifice fading as the creeping dread slithers to bind my still-beating heart with a tight grip, "Sidaraq wants me unharmed."

"Don't worry, I will not leave lasting marks on you," the man quips before withdrawing his sword from my nether regions and standing up. "Besides, you'll heal fast," he adds with a menacing tone. I can't help but feel a wave of relief wash over me, even if my mind knows he is not done just yet. He slaps me again with his sword, hitting my exposed rear from behind and compelling another high-pitched cry to escape between my lips. His fingers curl around my neck, and I'm forced to rise to my aching feet as the man behind me lifts me up. I can feel his crooked nose against my left shoulder, taking in a scent he seems to enjoy.

"A hero taken by a mere general before being tortured by the conqueror," the man threatens me as my legs shiver underneath me, the change in my pose allowing more blood into them and a numbness making room for a static tingling in my muscles. Each movement I make sends stinging shivers from my legs all over my body, forcing me to whimper while the man holding me up slides his free hand from behind me between my thighs and spreads my lips open with his fingers. His wide fingers find my herb-engorged clit effortlessly and begin to massage it with harsh motions.

"Pain and pleasure are the different sides of the same coin," he whispers into my ear, giving it a small nip between the gasping breaths I take, "It's been some time since I've gotten my cock wet and it looks like you're more than eager to mend my situation," with his taunting words I realize to my horror how wet I've become, his wanting fingers kneading my clit with powerful, circling movements while my hole drips with my fluids spread by his hand. "What's a little pleasure before eternal torture?" The general taunted again against my ear with his heaving, armored chest pressing against my upper back. My mouth wants to moan, but I force it back into my throat, fighting my more than eager body with all of my might. I had never expected to be in a situation like this, standing in a tent with my hands and legs spread wide with chains as one of my worst enemies is making me feel things I have no power over, the fear of death steadily disappearing as my body sends my mind signals to free itself from another set of chains.

"You've been a thorn on Sidaraq's side for too long, boy. He will do horrible things to you, I have heard every single detail, but right now he's busy and I have needs to fulfill," I hear a demeaning voice behind me saying. The man's fingers give me a moment to breathe as he quickly unties the leather straps holding his armor and drops it to the ground. Without even looking at him, I can sense his toned body as he pushes it against mine again. The man's fingers find my clit again and begin to massage it again, rubbing the small hood of my clit against it and sending jolts of small buzzes inside my body. I can feel his protruding erection hidden behind his tunic hit against my back as he grinds his body against me, still holding and squeezing my neck tightly while his other hand works my hood. I want to deny my body what it wants and has needed for so long. Being the Wayfarer has made me distant even from my closest friends, and as the chosen one, I've put my needs behind the needs of others. Now, captured and soon to be tortured, I could leave my imagined fate behind and submit to this man, yet something in the back of my mind tells me to resist, to fight him even if I don't want to.

Suddenly, two of the general's fingers slip inside my hole while his thumb continues to put pressure on my clit. He spreads my hole open, exploring my dripping opening with swirling motions and slowly coaxing more of my fluids onto his hand. His fingers push against the roof of my entrance, pressuring my clit from the inside, and I find myself moaning out loud as my eyes hazily look into nothingness. The man squeezes my neck even more, and I can't draw full breaths any longer. Just before I pass out, he releases me, and I gasp for more. "M-music to my- e-ears…" The man echoes with huffs, and I can no longer feel my chains, only the bliss of my body being pleasured by my sworn enemy. I need to have him inside me, to claim my body before my mentor is no longer busy enough to deal with me. To give me one final moment of satisfaction and fulfillment before it is all taken away.

The general let go of my throat for a moment to pull up his tunic and to plunge his swollen member between my legs, soaking it with my fluids and rubbing it against my pussy before quickly grabbing my neck again and holding onto it. Feeling his sizzling wet tip hit against my clit I imagine him entering me, taking my purity and breeding me like a stallion breeds a mare. Knowing my next cycle is still a few weeks away and how quickly I had submitted to this man, deep within my mind, I knew I was at my most fertile point of the month, a thought which shocked me back into reality.

"No! Stop!" I yelled while the man's grasp squeezed my throat tighter, immediately I felt the spreading warmth between my tights explode into a thrilling convulsion which sent a wave of trembling rapture all over me, making me gasp as it reached the tip of my toes all the way the to the top of my head, forcing my body to contort as a blissful storm brewed by it made my mind go blank. Not able to hold myself up, I slumped down and lost my balance, only to be held up by the man behind me, still thrusting his wet member between my legs, each thrust sending a slightly fainter wave of pleasure within my body and making me unable to fight him. Like a ragdoll, I swung with the momentum and my pussy milked the man's fingers still inside me.

The cloth covering the tent's entrance veered open, and soldiers stepped inside, her eyes clouded with the same blue tone everyone bearing the corruption had. The general immediately let go of me, and I dropped to the soft, ashen ground, feeling the chains in my wrists to let out a loud chime as they got tighter and held my upper body up when there was no strength left in me. The soldier looked at both of us, unsure of what to do before delivering her message.

"The Warlord is ready for him," she mumbled, embarrassed as dark redness spread on her grey cheeks and she turned her eyes to the ground, before adding "Now" with an empathizing tone.

Relieved by the fact that the intruder had not been the warlord, the general let out a sigh of relief, my fluids still glistening on his unspent pole throbbing with need that had been denied. He quickly redressed, with only his armor allowing him to hide his erect member as he muttered angrily to himself, shushing away the guard and telling her to send in the people who would take me to the warlord. "Damn…" the man cursed, "were you anything but the Wayfarer, I'd make you part of my concubine, with those moans you'd be my favourite." In my continuous blissful state, I could still sympathize with his remorse. My body still wanted to be mounted and bred, even though I had already reached an orgasm, and knowing that this was all I could gain left me dejected. I could only hope I could ride this blissful feeling longer than the warlord had punishments for me.

Soon, the general disappeared from the tent almost as quickly as he had arrived, and a pair of guards picked me up, chaining me to a stretcher like they had used when bringing my wounded, unconscious wreck into the war camp, and pulled me out of the safety of the tent, taking me to the warlord himself.

[kinkedquill]

Crown of Lust final chapter.

Prev part: The Royal Breed Part I.

The Prince is bred for the final time by a surprise visitor.

M / M / M ┃ Trans / Cis ┃ Human x Human ┃ Taboo ┃ Age Gap ┃Breeding┃ Submission/Domination ┃ Mpreg ┃ +4k Words

Content Warning: Pre-op transmasc body, trans masc being submissive & very pregnant. Magic genitals.

The stables were surprisingly warm when the duke stepped inside the stonewalled building. The servants had told him that his brother was there so he had made the short walk from the manor to the stable to talk with him in private. King Avram was brushing his horse's coarse snout with an even coarser brush, there was something bittersweet on his expression, which turned to a practiced smile fit for a royal when he saw his twin enter the stables.

"Is that not a servant's work?" Amram taunted playfully, and his King let out a slight chuckle, "It seems I have to learn to do this again soon, so why not start today?" Avram replied, patting his horse after finishing.

"Are you sure about your decision? If I remember correctly, you fought me quite harshly for that throne," the Duke asked, and crossed his hands. He was still somewhat bitter about what had happened, their mother choosing his twin and then that twin not giving him a bigger dukedom to rule. It had not been right, and the rift it had left between them was still open.

"I'm sure, my second oldest will inherit my position and after the coronation, most of our servants will go back to the castle," the King replied, before adding "If you want to, you can stay here with us, only the servants I trust will stay here and we would appreciate the help."

"We'll see, it has been good so far," Amram said, patting one of the horses near him. He had come here because of a promise, and he had his own land to rule, but there was something in his twin's words that intrigued him. A new queen would certainly shuffle the deck, and his siblings might want a piece of their uncle's land too after the coronation. "We used to play here a lot, remember?" the King asked suddenly, "Hiding behind the hay bales from the servants and our parents until the night came or we got hungry."

"... And then you would steal my dinner and pour a hot drink over my head," the Duke snided, "Yes, I remember that and you even took my crown."

The King shot daggers at his brother "It was hardly my choice and besides, I was the right fit and you know it," his voice got louder with anger, "Unlike you, I have heirs, and we're getting old, it's time to put aside our differences." The duke stepped closer to the King, clenching his fists, "I could have been a good king, a fair king, because of you my dukedom is facing a war!"

"Because of me, you still have a dukedom!" The King yelled, turning to face his enraged near-perfect reflection, "I've given you men and women to die for you! I carry my burdens with pride!" The Duke's face turned red with rage, and he took a swing. Even though the King was larger than his brother, he dodged his aimless hit quickly, grabbing his fist with one hand and turning his brother's back against himself, trapping the raging man between him and a pillar.

"I know I've done you wrong, and I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, but I'm offering you reconciliation. When my wife ran away with a servant, I was devastated and lost, but I have found serenity here, and I will kill you if I have to keep it," the King appealed to his brother, keeping him still. Amram tried to get away, still enraged and wanting to hurt his brother, but the King's weight and strength kept him in place. "I visited your little serenity this morning…" he began to taunt when all of a sudden the King bit into his brother's neck and shoved their bodies closer together, his teeth did not pierce the Duke's skin, yet it still hurt. Amram tried to get away, but the King was too strong.

King Avram threw his brother onto the floor and kicked him, chasing him to the back and near the similar hay bales they had used to hide between as children. The Duke backed against one, hoping to gain more momentum to attack his blood while the King walked towards him, his steps almost letting almost booming echoes through the stable, his piercing eyes stared at his brother, willing to fight him to the end if things came to it. The King's kick had left Amram's lip bleeding, and he wiped some of the blood before speaking up, "All I wanted was an apology, a word, anything to know you knew, but you never gave me anything!" he shouted to the approaching King.

"Then I will give you one!" the King declared and raised his fists. Amram got ready for a hit, but the King grappled him again and turned him around, bending him over one of the hay bales. "We did it here the first time," the King chided, "Your cock is still hard, it's making you irrational." He then grabbed Amram's belt and dropped his pants to the floor, still keeping the Duke's arms behind his back. Amram grunted and tried to escape the King's grasp again, but the King had him locked tight. The King pushed his hand to Amram's neck, keeping him down as he pulled his own hardening cock out, "Here comes my apology," the King taunted and plunged his fat cock between his brother's cheeks, sliding it between them with thrusting motion, the sensation made Amram breathe harder, it had not been what he had wanted, but it was what he needed.

"A-are you going to do me the same you've done to your son?" Amram asked, his voice trembling from the thought of what was about to become. "Only if you want it," the King replied with determination, his hot tip was pressing against Amram's hole, spreading him open like it had so long ago before. Amram muffled his screams against the hay, feeling his hole opening to the crown he was sworn to serve, the size of which had become a stranger to him. It stung at first, but soon the pleasure it gave him once again made it all fade away, "Gods, you feel so good inside," Amram gasped, grasping into the hays with his fists, "I know," the King answered quickly, pulling his cock away slightly and back within his twin's tunnel. The two old men stood still for a moment, each hesitating if they should continue, but the King was known to make decisions and took the reins once again, pinning the Duke down with his weight and pushing his hard cock into his defenseless ass while taking support from the same hay bale. The King slammed repeatedly into Amram's ass, making a loud slapping sound when their balls hit each other. Feeling his brother once again inside him was unbelievably good to Amram, and he couldn't help but use his muscles to tease the king more, begging him to breed him like he had done to his son.

They both moaned with almost the same low voice, the King would need a potion to make his brother gravid with the heir he had promised, but now was not time for it, this was his apology and he would fulfill it, they were no young bucks anymore and he had a lot to apologize for after all. The Duke's swollen member brushed against the rough hay while he gasped incoherently for air as he was forcefully claimed, his own twin breeding him with a smug grin on his face, "I should have asked for you sooner, you feel even better now than when we were young," the King laughed, using his strength to piston into the tight hole, feeling his brother's insides pushing against the attack and moaning underneath his weight. The Duke lost every single ounce of resistance in him as his brother stretched his opening wide with his forceful thrusts, revealing to both of them who truly deserved the crown.

"You've always been my little slut," the King huffed while pounding into Amram with quick and hard shoves, "And you can be that in the future too," the King laughed, bouncing his fat belly against his brother's bare back, enjoying his surrender underneath his rule.

The King's cock flexed and he immediately slammed his whole weight on Amram, his shaking body tightened around the King's cock and they both came at the same time, one brother blasting the hay with his load while the other came inside him, shooting ropes of semen into the empty tunnel in the shattering climax, collapsing on the hay covered stone floor together.

"You were right," Amram panted, "You should have called for me sooner," he laughed, barely recuperating from the force of his own climax. The fallen King next to him laughed too and asked, "I take it you accept my apology?"

"We'll see that tonight, won't we?" Amram chuckled again and sat up, "We'll see tonight." The king's seed was dripping from his abused hole, while his own had stained the hay along with his hairy tights. To be claimed by the king had been just what he had needed after such a long separation, and there would be even more joy to be had in the evening.

⚜

The wintry spring sky turned slowly into a mix of orange and purple hues as the day went along, and with the sky turning darker, so did most of its occupants get ready for departure. They had been given an order to return to the castle to serve the future queen, and there was a lot to be handled, leaving only a few to stay behind to serve the prince and the king. They had been paid well and were loyal to the crown, but even they could not feel the rising excitement that was floating in the air, veiling the three guests of the manor with its enthralling call as each of them got ready for the night.

Prince Zerah had no idea what was happening; he only knew it was going to be something new, and even though he still felt ashamed for not giving proper pleasure to the Duke, he too was excited for the night and made sure he was properly ready for whatever the night might bring. He had been asked to attend a meeting in the furthest part of the manor, the great northern wing, made from glass and filled with different kinds of exotic decorations and plants. Before becoming too gravid to walk far distance, he had asked to visit the northern wing, but the king had declined his queries, telling it was only used for special purposes and even thought he loved him very much, the room was out of the question, and as such, the prince had only been able to admire it from the outside, wondering what it was like to be inside.

Walking over to the northern wing was a challenge on itself to him, and the prince had to take a short rests on a hallway chairs, hallways that now seemed so empty without all the servants, multiple times before he even made halfway there, how he could ever take on the night worried him, but the growing excitement in his veins gave him strength to bear his burden and make his way toward the spectacular glass chamber, and soon enough he arrived at the large double doors leading to the northern wing. Slowly, but surely, he opened the two and found the room hidden behind them even more awe-inspiring than what he could have ever imagined. What he could have never spotted from the outside was now revealed to him, a rounded glass hall with colorful lanterns and blooming plants that defied the winter outside the room, a beautiful blend of so many colors he could hardly believe it. There were benches and a large canopy bed with silky fabrics covering them, each unique yet so befitting for a room so grand.

In the middle of the room stood two men, both so similar looking, yet so different from each other, waiting for the prince to arrive, and a small table near the canopy bed with three vials on it. Both the king and the duke were wearing velvety robes, which reached past their knees, revealing their bare legs underneath them.

"My prince, I was unsure if I should have sent someone to get you," the duke spoke up, bowing before the pregnant boy, "But I'm glad you're finally here, your father has arranged something just for you." Zerah bowed down as well as he could in his state and looked at his father with curiosity in his eyes as the King reached for the one of the vials on the table.

"You once asked me something I was unable to give you back then," the King Avram began, "I have promised the good duke here a proper heir, and I thought that might be something you would like to give him." The King placed the vial with strange liquid into Zerah's palms before adding, "If that is something you wish to do."

"My king, I'd be honored, but I still have your seed inside me, and I'd rather not make room for more before they come out," Zerah stuttered, "But I would be honored to bear his, once I've had your."

King Avram chuckled a bit, patting his boy on the shoulder with a warm smile on his face, "No, I wasn't asking you to carry for him, I'm asking for you to breed him." The sudden revelation made Zerah's eyes widen from the wonder, "You mean… This will give me… But will our children be safe if I drink it?" The excited hesitation in the prince's voice pleased the king greatly, and he had to laugh again, "Don't worry, the magic will take care of it, and give you enough stamina to bear the whole night and more." The duke had another vial in his hands and opened it to take a sip while the King took the third one. Their drinks looked different from the prince's, but he did not question what was in them and opened his vial with trembling hands before chugging all the strangely hot liquid down his throat. It was like drinking a mix of honey and spices, burning nicely inside him as it went down, and soon enough, the even stranger magic inside it began to make its work. A gentle illuminating light went through the prince's body without any pain, and once he opened his pregnancy gown, he could just barely see a new addition to his form, a rather well-endowed member hanging under his still pregnant belly, and it was growing from the excitement.

King Avram drank his vial empty, and took the prince's hand, leading him to the bed where the duke was already lying, slowly removing his robe and gasping as whatever magic in his drink worked its way through his veins. Zerah knelt on the bed, slightly trembling from the nervousness, but at the same time having a gleeful smile on his face. He had never minded his parts, although every now and then he had dreamed of having a cock, and right now he was about to do something he had thought he could never have. The King stayed behind him, undressing himself, and massaging the prince's hips with his hands, slowly moving up and down, almost reaching Zerah's erect member before pulling back. The roughness of his hands felt good to Zerah, and he could feel the King's poking member against his back.

The duke reached for the boy, placing his hands on his tights and taking the prince's newly formed cock between his wet lips, licking the tip to urge it grow even more, making the prince gasp from the pleasure like he had done that very morning, when his uncle had licked his clit. Even though the tool was now different, the sensations it sent across the prince's body were the same. The King moved his hands from Zerah's hips over his swollen breasts, and began to knead them while kissing his neck surprisingly gently, trailing the area between the base of his neck all the way to the back of his ear with his rough tongue, and planting small pecks all over his skin.

"You look stunning, my love," the King whispered into Zerah's ear, and added, "You've been through so much, and good toys deserve good rewards." The prince's soft gasps made Avram even more lustful, and he spared no time in putting his already hard shaft between his cheeks, grinding against him while his brother slowly took in the prince's rod, pushing his head back and forth in with a steady motion, and giving a lick to his ballsack when he pulled out.

The warmth inside Amram's mouth made Zerah's bulbous manhood twitch, and Zerah had to abandon any attempts at control as his hips jerked forward, driving his member deep within the back of the throat of his uncle and releasing a few drops of precum into it. Amram quickly pulled away and gagged, wiping his mouth with laughter in his eyes, "Careful there, boy, I need you to breed me, not my mouth."

"Ah, I apologize, you just felt so g-good…" Avram stuttered between his gasps, his face reddening from the shame and sensation of his father playing with his breasts. Zerah's dark nipples were poking from his chest as the king circled them with his thumbs, rubbing and pinching them in turns. The duke clasped his hands to his nephew's hips again and pulled them both on top of himself, spreading his legs to open himself for the boy.

"If you're going to be that fast, you better get to work then," Amram chuckled, and guided Zerah's throbbing member near his hole before wetting both of them with a balm and leaning back. The King took his chance and moved his fat cock between Zerah's tights, slithering his own rock-hard member with the oil dripping down Zerah's balls, and slid it right back between his cheeks, placing his tip right on his son's waiting hole and waited for him to act. Hesitantly, Zerah began to push his tip in, spreading his uncle's hole in a way he had never could be and making the man underneath him moan with pleasure as the pressure of his cockhead slowly penetrated him and his tunnel began to accommodate the new intruder. At the same time, Zerah's father bucked against his son, nudging his cheeks apart with his width and entered him with ease before beginning to make deep and long thrusts.

The surreal experience made all of them gasp and huff in almost the same rhythm, a strange heat building between them with each stroke, a father helping his son from behind to breed his uncle. King Avram put more of his weight against Zerah's back, forcing him to collapse on top of his brother and to thrust deeper into him. Zerah's uncle grabbed the boy by his neck and took him in for a deep kiss, forcing his tongue into him to coax the boy to move harder and faster inside him. Moaning against his lips with each thrust.

Trapped once again between the two, Zerah had no choice but to submit his pregnant body to the thrusting his father was doing to him, moving with him to penetrate the duke as deep as he could, feeling his warmth on his shaft and the tightness gripping against his cock. The first one to come was Amram, his hard cock shot the first load between him and Zerah's wanton bodies, staining their skins with the seed. Amram moaned and jerked his hips against Zerah, who kept pummeling into him with newly found strength, violating his uncle's hole with rough and fast thrusts while his father kept his pace, spreading the prince's insides with its width. The Duke squirmed underneath the two as another climax hit him, he grabbed the man behind Zerah, digging his nails into the skin and pulled them closer to him, desperately gasping for air, when finally the prince, feeling the constant squeezing of the duke's muscles along with his father's cock embedded inside his youthful body could feel his throbbing ball's flex and release his load deep inside his uncle, breeding him for the very first time.

The King slammed against his boy relentlessly now, forcing Zerah to keep his cock inside Amram, who was still recuperating from his climax, helplessly trapped underneath them. When suddenly, the King pulled his member out, and thrusted between Zerah's thighs, lifting him up just enough to plunge into the man underneath him. The Duke groaned as the second cock pushed past his barrier, joining the pulsing member next to it and with a loud roar, the King released his seed inside his twin.

"His or mine, you will have your whelp," the King huffed, his fat girth lazily thrusting against Zerah's still swollen member and teasing it to release another burst of his magical seed deep inside. Zerah's whole body trembled as did Amram's, neither one was able to move, and barely could hold themselves together as the King kept thrusting, showing once again why he had ruled for so long.

"Come on, son, we need to make sure our seed takes hold. Breed him until he's ripe!" The King demanded, but something inside Zerah shifted and he pushed back, pulling both of them out of his uncle's aching hole now drenched with their cum. The Prince turned around, shoving his surprised father on all fours with magic-infused strength, forsaking his rule. "No!" Zerah yelled, "I think it's time for another kind of breeding," Zerah kept the far older man down by clasping his hand on his fat hips and lined his tip against his squirming father's hole, and before the King could even yell his refusals, the prince's tip was already pressing against his untainted hole, forcing itself in like he had once done to him.

"The servants say you've given up your crown," Zerah taunted, "That makes us all equal." Zerah jerked his hips forward, forcing his fat cockhead inside his father's unanticipating rim, spreading him open with little resistance. The old man groaned and tried to pull away, but Zerah kept him in place, putting more pressure inside him. "How does it feel to have my cock inside you, my king?" Zerah laughed as he began to move his hips, reaching deeper and deeper with each thrust. The prince's balls slammed against his father's, whose now half-flaccid member was still leaking with his seed. Encouraged by the sight in front of him, the Duke crawled next to the King and got on his knees, before slapping his softened member against the bewildered King's cheek, and leaving trails of spent cream on it.

"I believe it's time for you to be bred," Amram gibed, "Now be a good boy and open up." In his shock, the once proud King obeyed, letting his twin bury his member deep inside his mouth, reaching past the back of his throat so much so that the King's neck bulged from the flared tip, almost choking him before his brother pulled out, only to forcefully to thrust back deep inside again. With his son behind him and his brother before him, the King's reign was overthrown with each thrust they made, and Amram could feel himself turning into a servant unlike ever before. The violation of his body had made his cock hard again, throbbing with unnatural need to be bred by them, and even in his lustful state he knew he had made the right decisions. By drinking that vial, he had made himself breedable, and soon he would bear his son's seed like he carried his.

The King moaned against his brother's swollen member, licking it while it was thrusting inside, reaching his throat while his son's member poked against him from behind, finding every sensitive spot in his body. Zerah panted loudly, smacking against the sore hole with fury and lust. He leaned forward to reach the old man in front of his father and pulled him in for another kiss, now being the first one to use his tongue. The whimpering mess underneath them known once as the king of the land came hard, shivering and jerking his hips against Zerah to milk his thick cock for his plentiful seed, but the prince was not done yet, not just yet.

The Duke's balls hit his brother's bearded chin each time he hammered himself in, and the king could feel the throbbing veins on them getting ready to fill his throat and he began to suck on it more eagerly as it slid in and out, wanting to be gifted with at least one load before he came into his senses again and the Duke relented, slamming into him one final time, reaching further down his brother's throat than before, and releasing his third load so large one could have seen it bulge the King's throat even more than Amram's large tip already did. The King gagged against his twin's crotch as he shot another clump deep within him. It would not make him pregnant, but it was a far sweeter gift than anything he had ever given him before, and he drank every drop of it like a depraved man.

Zerah could feel himself getting closer and closer, his balls were aching for another release, and this time he would give his father an almost endless stream of his vigorous semen, drenching his insides with the stickiness and certainly ripening his magically created womb deep within him. Zerah cried loudly as he felt incredible relief hitting him from the inside as his balls released their payload, culminating in a one hot wave rushing through his veins before he fell on top of his father, whose hole was milking him dry. The man underneath him did not have any strength left in him and dropped on the bedding as well, his brother's now flaccid cock sliding from his mouth and leaving his mouth dripping from his creamy seed.

The Duke lay next to them, all three huffing from the spent energy and pleasure they had never felt before. The outside world had disappeared into a darkness, and the colorful lanterns around them were the only things lighting up the glass dome they were in.

"Y-you bastards…" The King panted, still lost in his climax, "W-we need to rest, but Zerah, do not pull out just yet, we need to be sure…" and once more the prince was turned into a servant, doing as he was told and keeping his still pulsing cock inside his father, slowly seeping in the last of his seed to impregnate the old man. "Maybe it's my turn next," the Duke mumbled and brushed the strands of hair from the King's face, and the King nodded slightly, "That may be," the King replied, patting his fat belly with one hand, "We need to be sure after all."

Neither of the three would be leaving the winter manor anytime soon, and each one was content with their new lives. ---

This was not the one I ever intended to write, but when I began, I could not stop, and here we are, over 20k words and a couple of months later. Finishing with the cast.

[kinkedquill]

Crying Wolf

Marras Chapter III

Prev part: Moth To A Flame.

Hunter on prowl.

  ┃ Violence ┃ Mentioned M/F/F┃ Alcohol ┃ +3k Words

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Vidar had hunted those blasted humans for years now and even though he had had a few close calls, he had survived each encounter so far. The life of a huntsman was not a glorious nor a very long one, but it had been the life he had chosen, he was an athalwolf after all and that was enough to shorten his lifespan alone. Lately his trade as a huntsman had become more sought after and tonight, he was hunting in to the forest near the Old Grove and he could already hear the terrifying hums of his next target and no matter how many times Vidar had heard it, it always sent chills down his spine covered by dark brown fur.

The ground was still humid from the heavy rain, which had drenched the land a few nights prior. The rain had left a rather pleasant scent in Vidar's snout, one he breathed in order to savor it, for soon it would be displaced by other smells, something far more unpalatable than a mere rotting meat. Vidar's unscarred yellow eye glowed in the dark as he followed the humming sound, seeing the prints left behind by the human who was looking for its next victim. With each step he took he could feel this certain kind of sensation, only felt by being in the presence of a human, lingering just behind his eyes. It was like a pair of scissors were closing on the red line some might call a soul, readying itself to snap it if Vidar was to make any mistakes. He took the talisman hanging on his wrist into his palm and said a silent prayer for the Gods, who would not hear them and drew his bow.

Vidar could see a shadow slouching in the darkness closing on a nearby tree and he stretched his bowstring, readying himself to take the shot as his breathing turned into visible vapor in the cold evening air. He would get only one shot and one shot only.

THUCK

The shadow turned to Vidar when his arrow impaled its left shoulder blade, pinning it to the tree, still continually humming its strange tone when Vidar dared to step closer and dust the lunging carcass with flashpowder, it wanted to rip him into pieces, slash his throat and eat whatever was left of the athalwolf once it was done with the carnage, but to Vidar's good fortune, his aim had been true and the tree held the monster in place as he lit a small flame and threw it at the creature who turned into a flash of blue flame in seconds. Vidar could feel the hotness of his flame on his fur, but the flames did not burn the tree behind the creature nor the ground beneath its writhing feet, it only touched its flesh and soon the flames died out leaving only ash in its wake.

"Good job," said the voice behind Vidar, and he turned around instantly to face the other athalwolf behind him.

"We got lucky it was alone," Vidar answered and spit in the direction of the ashes and added "May the Gods carry you back to your kin," before walking over to Stendar, an athalwolf like him and a cleaner reflection of his facial features. Stendar walked past him and crouched over the still smoking embers of the creature with a mask covering his face and collected some of its ashes into a small vial with strange fluid on it. When the ashes touched the fluid, it turned bright, illuminating his covered hand with its red light before Stendar put it into a small cotton pouch and fastened it onto his belt.

"Next one's on me then," Stendar laughed with a disgusted grin on his face once he removed his mask and purified the hand he had used to collect the ashes, "I got us a lodging at the Old Wood and they promised a dinner once we arrived."

"Old Wood of Old Grove? Sounds like a joke," Vidar grunted and Stendar let out a muffled chuckle, "The way these people have had to deal with these monsters lately, I think they are allowed to have some fun too." Stendar joined his brother as they began to make their way from the forest, something did not feel right to Vidar, but things never did, so he shrugged off the feeling while keeping his guard up.

"Remember the one we went to about two months ago, what was its name? It was very funny," Stendar said, trying to ease the mood surrounding the two, he had known his brother far longer than they had been alive and could read him like a book, as Vidar read him.

"The Bouncing Lady…" Vidar replied, looking over his shoulder.

"No, that's close, but not it," Stendar added, "It was something bouncing… Pony? No… But something…" there was a short pause when Stendar tried to think of the name, when suddenly he yelled "The Bouncing Maiden!" His words echoed in the woods and Vidar had to snarl at him, "Silence, there could still be more around!"

Stendar laughed again, "Relax, you might feel some nearby, but I can't, which means we either got them all or there are still some under the ground, either way, it doesn't matter since they can't claw their way-..." Stendar's words got interrupted when he stumbled on a root protruding from the ground, followed by his loud screech and he fell face first to the muddy ground, a sight which made Vidar finally smile and laugh out loud, "Hah! Serves you better than those maidens at the Bouncing Maiden!"

Stendar got up and brushed his armor from the twigs and mud with shame on his face, he kicked the tree root which had offended his pride "Shut it… You know I might as well get me another bouncing maiden tonight," he stuttered back at his mocking twin. Vidar patted his brother's back and laughed again, "I'm sure they will be dropping their petticoats as soon as they hear about your bravery against a tree root," Vidar's words made Stendar smile a bit and soon he couldn't help but laugh with him too.

Athalwolf or a huntsman, it did not matter, their lives were short, but even Vidar could appreciate the short moments of joy he shared with his brother, and together they made their way towards the Old Wood inn.

The town near the Old Grove was called Narra and like many such towns, it didn't have much to write home about. It might once have been a bustling center of the region, but right now the fear of humans had driven many away and the empty houses stood still in the bitter wind, rotting away like those who had scared their inhabitants away. The ones who had stayed were old, like it usually was, those who refused to leave their homes they had built a long time ago with their bare hands. To them there was no life anywhere else and leaving would mean admitting defeat, one where their pride would be eternally stained by if they dared to leave, no matter how hard things got and the two athalwolves could respect that. Leaving the familiar for the unknown was not something that should be done on an impulse, and leaving could mean death either way due to how the world worked nowadays.

The Old Wood inn offered them shelter and warmth from the fastening winds outside, and they both were pleased to see the owners had kept their promises of the old, allowing them to dine and rest without pay as was the arrangement made for the huntsman a long time ago. Some innkeepers, especially young ones, were usually after their gold or shekels and did not respect the old ways even though the things coming from the underground kept them on their claws, "A reminder that the world has gone to shits," Stendar had once said, "Now everyone's out for themselves because of the war or the famine, not respecting the old deeds like they should. We're risking our very lives for them and giving us some mead would be the least they could do." And Vidar had to remind him that they were also athalwolves, not just huntsmen and that came with its own set of prejudices, if the people had known they were also relatives, although very distant ones, to the king who was the reason for the famine, they would have been either chased away immediately from every town in the region or hanged just for their blood which usually shut Stendar's snout for good. They would always be partly blamed for the crimes their kin did, and as such, they had to keep their heads down, but the things their status as huntsmen gave usually overcame the price they paid as athalwolves.

In the warmth of the fireplace, Stendar had already found himself an older wench to snuggle against while Vidar enjoyed his mead, it was just the right amount of sweet and spicy, one which filled a wolf's soul with cozy warmness and that could only be found in small towns like this one. The elchen woman in Stendar's lap giggled when he told her sweet nothings and tall tales of their adventures, which to be honest, were mostly true. They had seen much together, some not even the most decorated soldiers had faced, but it came with being a huntsman and as such could never be expected to happen to other thaunon.

The innkeeper was a jolly old bera, a bear-like thaunon, with a large belly and a wide smile, almost a caricature in itself, nevertheless a welcome one when compared to the men and women who did not want to serve wolves, especially athal ones.

Vidar's weary ears could still overhear the conversation his brother was having with his woman, "Ah! Yes, we're heading there tomorrow morning in fact, you know? To close the nest and we might not survive it, we've heard there is a large group of them holed up in there and we need to plunge ourselves into their caverns to make sure they will not get out anymore!" Stendar exclaimed and although Vidar knew it was a way for him to get the lady into his bed, he wasn’t lying to her and Stendar's plan usually worked, he would boast about their upcoming death and the women fell into his feet, begging to be laid by him in order to provide some comfort for the dying hero, but in a way it also worked for his mates, they would get the bragging rights for having slept with an huntsman and Stendar and Vidar seldom visited their old hunting grounds ever again.

"What about your brother? Does he need… a friend? I could get my pal to ease his stress…" The elchen woman said while looking at Vidar and Stendar let out a booming laugh, "Only if your friend has a cock, he's not into the more alluring folk, but if you want to, I could use another friend too!" Stendar beamed and the woman in his arms did not know if to be offended or pleased by Stendar's idea. Their conversation was then drowned by the crackling of the wood and embers coming from the fireplace as the mead in Vidar's veins began to work its little magic and lull him into a calmer mood. He watched as the flames danced before him, magic of its own kind to him, and the jolly innkeeper brought him some freshly roasted meat and vegetables farmed in the sour land of Narra.

"You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow, it takes almost the whole day to travel where you two are going and you will need your strength after" the bera said and Vidar thanked him, also taking the plate made for his brother from the tray, "He will be not needing that, he will have his mouth full soon enough," Vidar snided and glanced at the pair laughing to each other. The innkeeper nodded and returned to his post, which he had to have held for many years now. Vidar imagined the dark wood behind the scratched counter and how there must now be a path left by the multiple hours of hard work and strain, lighter than the wood around it and slightly dipped below the original level of the flooring. Had life offered him a different path, Vidar thought he might have become an innkeeper himself, it was honest work and places like this were usually the heart of the town or a village, sometimes even the city. One could easily hear rumours or find work in the inn, and Vidar had noticed that the further the inn was from civilization, the more welcoming they usually were, with some caveats of course.

While Vidar was lost in his thoughts and the mead, Stendar came over to him and patted his right shoulder, "I'll be staying in her place tonight, see you in the morning," he laughed and grabbed his lady into his arms, waving goodbye to his brother.

"Alright," Vidar grunted back and shouted "Don't be making any pups now!" Stendar did not answer to his amused comment, but raised his ring finger as the sign of his detestation, which made Vidar chuckle a bit again.

As the night went on, Vidar enjoyed his mead and his lunch in peace, bathing in the warm coziness as he sat next to the fireplace. Little by little more thaunon came into the tavern to rest after a long day of work and almost all were interested in the silent athalwolf, when the word got out he was a huntsman, even more people came in and some even offered to buy him either dinner or more drink, which Vidar respectfully denied. Right now he had enough and the long day in the forest, the sane fear running in his veins had taken their toll on him. He climbed the stairs up to his room in a drunken stupor, he did not expect to have after such a few drinks, and fell asleep on a mattress filled with old hay.

The athalwolf woke up in the middle of the night, his dark fur drenched in his sweat as the dreaming muffled his horrified screams. Vidar clawed at the sheets covering his trembling body and realized the low hums he had heard were just a nightmare, even thought for a moment he could have sworn he was still hearing them when he woke up, but when he perked up his furry ears there was nothing but the sounds of the revelers coming from the down stairs. The walls of the old inn creaked as the strong gust of winds hit against it and Vidar leaned back against his rough pillow, holding his head with one hand and trying to calm down his breathing. It was the price he had to pay as a huntsman, dreaming about the humans he had burned. Vidar had once heard someone say it was because burning them was not enough, it just released their souls into the world and to avenge their wrongful death in the claws of the huntsmen, they would haunt them for the rest of their short lives. Stendar had immediately shut such words down, claiming they were doing the Gods' work, that they were saving innocent lives, that those things were a threat, and even thought that was the truth Vidar had come to live by, he was still unsure if he completely believed it. He thought about how a long time ago, some thaunon had tried to heal the humans, to make them more like they were thought to be, only to be slain by the ones they were trying to save. The age of humans had passed a long time ago, and the things lurking in the darkest corners and the deepest of the depths were nothing like the people who had built large towers and vast cities now buried by age.

The mead inside Vidar was still warming him, promising him it was okay to fall back to sleep and that there would be no more horrifying dreams to be had that night. The athalwolf wanted to believe its alluring call, to dream about something else, but in his deepest of hearts he knew that would not be true, the nightmares might not come tonight, but they would always hide right behind his ears, ready to pounce back into his sleeping mind when given a chance.

Behind the closed doors of an elchen woman's home, things were much different than in the sweat-drenched bed Vidar shared only with his fears, although sweat was spilled in her bed too. Stendar's plan had worked and he was now being pleased by two women, one elchen and the other rather fox-like räv. The wine in their veins made things easier and all three were enjoying each other's company as nude as children, yet performing deeds not suitable for the young eyes. Unlike Vidar, Stendar had learned how to keep his dreams in control and it usually meant drinking until he would pass out. In that helpless state he had no dreams which suited him just fine since he could easily find dreams in the waking world, ones like he was having right now.

Their bodies twisted together as each one pleased someone else, lost in the thirst for a little bit of comfort in the darkening night and one by one reaching the high they sought, falling asleep in the bed far too small for three adults. Stendar slept on the side, holding the räv woman in a tight hug while she in turn held her friend. Stendar buried his dark snout into the orange fur, taking in the soft scent of her current lover and drifting into his dreamless world brought by the alcohol he had drunk that night, almost hearing the low humming sound coming towards them from the distant woods he and his brother had left earlier that night, following the same dirt path leading to the town of Narra as they had.

[kinkedquill]

Things are heating up at bluesky again and by the gods or none there of, I will drag that man’s name through the mud with my own cum filled hands. There can only be one Will Cain and it will be me.

[tvrded]

[daily-spooky]

[kinkedquill]

I keep writing about whimpering subs/bottoms/betas but this is what I end up with.

Quiz here: quotev.com/quiz/16875888 reblog and share your results!

[kinkedquill]

The Royal Breed

Part I

Crown of Lust final chapter begins here.

The Prince is bred for the final time by a surprise visitor.

M / M / M ┃ Trans / Cis ┃ Human x Human ┃ Taboo ┃ Age Gap ┃Breeding┃ Submission/Domination ┃ Mpreg ┃ +3k Words

Content Warning: Pre-op transmasc body, trans masc being submissive & very pregnant.

Scroll to this ╭ᑎ╮ mark to skip the story parts.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Prince Zerah sat in the bathtub, enjoying the amberly scent coming from the slowly burning incense next to him. The lukewarm water felt good after such a long day of lovemaking and even though his body was feeling sore, he wanted more, excited to experience whatever his father had promised to do later that evening. Zerah stroked lovingly his swollen belly, sliding over the faint stretch marks his breeding had provided him with. The midwife had told him he was carrying triplets and from the size of it, he could easily believe it. In a few more months he would be giving birth and the thought of it made him happy. So much had changed in his life and all for the better, yet there was something gnawing his heart and it was not a heartburn given to him by his pregnancy.

╭ᑎ╮

Zerah slid his hand under the water and began to rub his already swollen clit, a task hard enough with his plump belly on the way now not being helped at all by his posture. He could touch it just barely with his middle finger, but it was all he needed. He imagined the old man under him, holding him in his lap and pushing his fat cock inside his pussy, easily sliding in due to him being adjusted to the King’s width. Soon Zerah’s splashing was joined by his whimpers and he arched his back, his legs clasped together involuntarily as he reached his peak quickly. Just by thinking of his father, Zerah had found it easy to come and he wished he could be with him all the time.

Although maybe it's for the best I stay here, he thought. The king had to rule over his kingdom after all and every time they met they bred like the world was ending, glued to each other by sweat and cum of their own making. Their lust for each other rivaled that of the Gods and suddenly a worry had slipped back into Zerah’s mind. Soon he would not be able to be intimate with the King and with his virility, he might go look for someone else. The lukewarm water didn’t feel so warm anymore and began Zerah to shiver.

Maybe he’s introducing me to my replacement? He thought and pulled his head under the water as panic began to overtake his burning heart. He loves me, doesn’t he? He has said it multiple times.

The air in his lungs began to burn and Zerah had to pull himself up. He gasped for air while getting up, clumsily drying his dripping body with a towel before putting on a robe which was only barely able to confine his new form with its strings. There were not that many clothes that fit him nowadays and this one would have to do. The sheer walking to the door and into the hallway made him pant and Zerah had to move slowly, supporting his belly with two hands as he wobbled forwards, but the king was patient, sitting on his throne in the reception hall lost in the thought of Zerah’s tender dark skin and rubbing his loins.

As Zerah walked down the stairs, the King stirred from his daydreaming for the dream right in front of him.

“Come here, sit on my lap, I need to finish inside you,” King Avram smirked.

“B-but this is the reception hall, the servants could see us,” Zerah whispered, glazing around as if they were already there to witness their ongoing crime. He could swear someone was there, but could not see anyone but the king.

“I didn’t ask you to come here, I ordered you to,” the King snarled back, turning Zerah into an obedient servant with a mere tone of his voice. Zerah skittered across the floor as quickly as he could and did as he was told and climbed the short stair leading onto the throne. Settling into the King’s lap, Zerah could feel his hard-on pressing against his rear, begging to be dipped into his holes. He spread his legs and sat face-to-face with the King.

“Good boy,” Avram murmured, “Now lift yourself a little ass, so I can plunge myself into you,” Taking support from the armrests, Zerah lifted himself up and the King freed his pulsing member from his pants, aiming it towards his wet slid and gripping Zerah by the hips before quickly forcing him down on it. Zerah gasped in wonder when he felt his father's cock again, unable to stop himself from moaning. The King’s fat tip momentarily stopped at his entrance but soon slid into the hole made for it. The King’s grip tightened around his hips and he dug his nails into the prince's skin.

"I don't care if the servants see us," he groaned, "I need to have you." The King moved one of his hands to behind the Prince's head, pulling him closer to him, kissing his soft lips, and forcing his wet tongue in. Being inside his wet pussy was worth all the risks in the world and the letters he had sent that day had already sealed their fates. The King's gift was already waiting in the corner of the room, looking at them as the King fucked his son's mouth with his tongue as he had done so many times before. In the darkness of the hall's deepest corner stood a man, watching and waiting for a sign. Stimulated by the scene unfolding before him, he slipped his hand across his fat belly into his pants and began to pleasure himself while his other hand kneaded his nipples. He had come there due to a promise made by the king and he had not been disappointed when he saw the pregnant prince.

Zerah wrapped his arms around the King's shoulders and began to move his fattened hips up and down slowly. In his depraved mind, he had already forgotten how much he had doubted the King's loyalty to him and if anyone could see them. The king had bred him after all and each time they met, they twisted themselves around each other for more, undoubtedly true to their feelings for each other. The fat cock inside him swelled even more with each quivering movement Zerah made and the lust he had for his father seemed to have no end.

The king moaned and began to move his hips in rhythm with the prince, "I have a surprise for you," Avram moaned, "I think you'll like it." Not giving any time to ask any question, Zerah felt another pair of hands wrap around him and grab his breasts, he tried to turn around to see who it was, but a pair of bearded lips bit into his neck, sucking the skin so deeply to certainly leave a bruise. The prince moaned with pleasure as his abuse continued, there was a knowing gleam in the king's eyes as he kept violating his son's inner sanctum while the prince moved his hips in a grinding motion.

The king pulled his tongue out from Zerah's mouth, "Once you've given birth to my brood, he will be needing your services," King Avram taunted, and finally Zerah saw who was behind him. The man had almost the same face as his father, but he was slightly slimmer and had shorter hair.

"L-lord Amram?" Zerah stuttered to his uncle who answered him by grabbing his neck like his father had done, licking the prince's lips before plunging his tongue in too. Lord Amram had ruled the borderlands as long as Zerah's father had been a king, they had never seen eye to eye until the king had asked for him to return to the winter manor, which served as an unmoving reminder of easier times between the two. King Avram had proposed a deal to his twin brother: Amram would gain an heir, something which he had tried for many years now, and in return, they would bury their war axes and become proper brothers once again.

Amram's tongue felt different yet familiar to Zerah and it didn't take long for him to eagerly join him while the Lord kneaded his aching breasts harder than the King ever had. In turns he was tongue-fucked by both, giving them his approval in passionate moans. The king lifted Zerah's rear and Lord Amram lined his throbbing cock against Zerah's ass, nudging himself in steadily as Zerah's was muffled by the king himself. The fat tip plunged past his rim and joined its brother of a another holer in the trespassing of the prince's innocence. When the king's thickened cock slid almost completely out, the duke's bulging member slid deeper within. The feeling of the two passing each other made the prince's holes spread even further and in this blissful state his mind went blank, all the doubts disappeared as his body convulsed in a far more stronger orgasm than what he had ever experienced before, putting more pressure on the thrusting cocks inside him. Zerah's inner muscles clamped down on them and he arched his back while his uncle sucked on his neck and his father forcefully plunged his tongue between his lips. Sensitized by his first orgasm, it didn't take long for Zerah to reach a second peak and his whole body trembled even harder than before. He had never dreamed about being double-tagged, but now it was all he had ever wanted.

Zerah's mind was lost in the haze when the king began to groan again, getting closer to releasing his seed into his body again. The prince's dripping pussy was milking him with all of its force and the king did not want to disappoint him any longer. He roared into his son's mouth and slapped his hefty balls against Zerah's rear one more time while his brother kept pounding into the prince's ass. Feeling Amram's bulbous tip brushing against his sent the final signal into his pulsing balls to relieve them from their creamy load. His semen gushed into his son, staining his insides once again. The king and the son were locked together, moaning and shivering from their orgasms while Lord Amram pommeled into the spasming rim, reaching soon his edge and grabbing the young prince's wobbling belly as he too locked himself into his nephew and painted his insides white.

All three heaved together, unable to pull away from each other even though they were all at the point of collapsing. Zerah was still lost in his haze as the two cocks inside him pumped his holes with more seed, soaking his guts even more.

"The old bastard was right, you truly are a gift from the Gods," Lord Amram huffed against Zerah's neck, his sucking had left it raw and bruised just as Zerah had expected, but the mark he had left inside him was more precious than what was on the outside. The king nodded in satisfaction, knowing everything had gone according to his plans, "Indeed he is and once you've had him, you never want anything else," he laughed and his brother has to acknowledge it too, pushing his cock inside the prince and hearing his muffled moans had done something to him and he couldn't wait for the next day. Tonight, they would have to rest, but tomorrow the king had promised to present them with something even more wonderful.

The next morning, Lord Amram woke up early. He had rested better than ever before and was already ready when the rest of the manor began to stir awake. Last night he had ridden half a day's worth of travel, unsure if his brother would betray him or keep his promise. They had been on bad terms for so long that either option was a possibility, but none of that mattered anymore, in a few months he would claim the prince's fertile womb and have his heir. The heavy snowfall had almost completely covered the roof of the dark brick building when he had arrived last night, but now Amram watched the snow melting outside, the glistening water drops dripping against the icicles they were formed from. His mind went back to a time when he and his twin were playing in their grandmother's winter manor, exploring together its winding hallways and secret passages, getting muddy outside once the snow began to melt like it did today.

The reception hall had looked almost untouched no matter how many decades had passed since Amram had visited it last. All the old oil paintings and the tapestries were still up even though the room had seen some repairs, but everything had been done faithful to the original design. In the middle of the room still stood the same throne-like chair and there sat his twin with a wide smile on his wrinkled face framed by the neat, yet greying golden hair and beard not too different from his brother, thrusting into the very pregnant Prince with such glee Amram had not witnessed in years. Their passionate lovemaking had excited him and even now the mere thought made Amram to pitch a tower. Ravishing the young prince had felt better than anything he had done before, his soft moaning lips against the Lord's own wanted him to breed him like the Prince's father had done. The boy was meant to be bred and by the Gods, he would do it as soon as his womb was empty once again.

Amram feasted in the dining hall alone that morning, devouring his breakfast made with fresh goose eggs and tallow. Last night he hadn't gotten a chance to eat and now his hunger was overtaking him even if his mind was somewhere far away, or rather, somewhere on the other side of the manor, in the room where the Prince slept soundly. After his delicious breakfast, Amram looked for the room the Prince was in and hesitated for a moment at the door. What they had done was wrong and even though he had experimented with his twin when they were younger, they had never done anything close to what they had done last night, but his groin was already decided for him, pulsing with a need that could only be quenched by the prince and Amram decided to knock on the door. He could not hear an answer and entered the prince's chambers without explicit permission.

╭ᑎ╮

The prince was still sleeping, nude, and his back supported by so many pillows that his uncle lost count. The veins of his protruding belly could be easily seen, but what made Amram's heart pound even harder was when he witnessed the marks he had left on the boy's neck still as visible as they had been the night before. It was a sign of his passion he had had for him and seeing them made the denial of his sin impossible. Amram walked over to the Prince and sat on his bed, brushing his hair away from his face to see his bruises better. The Prince opened his eyes slowly, stirring awake with a smile that made Amram hopelessly attached to him.

"Good morning, m'lord, did you sleep well," Zerah asked with innocence in his voice that made Amram tremble with thirst, "Forget such formalities, in the royal line you're higher than me," Amram rambled, unable to look away from the Prince's gentle gaze. No one in their family had such deep and dark eyes, making Amram doubt their relationship. No matter what, what he was about to do was still a sin in the eyes of the Gods and he would have to beg for mercy in the afterlife. Amram slid his hands from the Prince's cheek to his neck, gently touching the signs of his sins and slipping his palm even lower, over the Prince's tender breast. Zerah gasped softly and gave him a knowing smile, "Would you like me to suck your cock?" the Prince asked with warm teasing, "I loved how it spread me last night." Amram blushed and turned his gaze, still circling his thumb over the Prince's rising nipple.

"Avram has trained you well," The Duke couched out, "Does he ever do anything for you?" Zerah laughed, "My father gives me everything I need and I hope I can serve you as well." That damned smile was enough for Amram to pull closer to the prince and kiss his soft lips again, this time he kept his tongue and caressed Zerah's lips only with his own, yet with the same passion he had had last night. The Prince's room was showered with the soft morning light and this time their sex would be as gentle as it was.

Amram planted kiss after another onto the Prince's lips, slowly moving down to his neck and mending his hurt with all the love he could give, until he moved over to his heaving chest, circling Zerah's hard nipples with his tongue and putting them between his lips to gently squeeze them. The Prince's soft gasps echoed in Amram's ears, begging his uncle to take him again. Zerah's large areolas were darkened by his pregnancy, dripping with milk-like fluid as Amram sucked them, giving small licks while his lips were clasped onto the skin. Zerah's eager hands found Amram's thighs and traveled to knead on his already hardened rod, nimble fingers teasing him to release it so he could stroke it. Amram adjusted his pose, bringing his hips near the Prince's pillows and moving his lips to kiss his nephew's belly swollen by his brother's semen. Zerah's belly button had popped out and Amram planted a kiss on it before moving past it and reaching over to his dripping pussy. The Duke guided his nephew gently to spread his legs and kissed his hairy groin, touching the area between his hips and thighs while Zerah's hands unsheathed Amram's cock, the large veins on the fat shaft pulsed with fervor for him and Zerah's hands quickly began to stroke it rhythmically.

With one hand, Amram spread Zerah's swollen lips to reveal his throbbing clit. It had not seen much action since his plump belly had grown to cover it and his uncle was determined to mend that too. His beard tickled Zerah when he began to lick his clit, Amram's tongue moved up and down, building pressure inside the Prince. The King had rarely pleased his son in such a way and the Prince loved every moment, the man licking his nether regions knew what he was doing and showed him unheard gentleness. Unable to focus on stroking his uncle's cock, Zerah gasped again and put his hands over his mouth. Amram circled his entrance with two fingers, looking to enter it as he started to suck on the wanting clit, his fingers moving wonderfully, pressing the top of his opening from the inside, putting more marvelous pressure on Zerah's sensitive nerves so much so that his breathing got faster and faster by the moment. He wanted him to enter, use his cock to forcefully thrust in, and paint his insides with his cream again, but the Duke was not there to impale him, he wanted to please him in new ways.

A shiver ran down Zerah's spine, telling him he would soon come and Amram could feel his signals, moving his tongue and fingers faster, circling around the clit with his wet tongue like he had done to his nipples. With mere touch Amram had made Zerah squirm, his hips pushing against the Duke's head and whimpering with pleasure. Suddenly, Zerah jerked up and let out a loud cry, his thighs almost clamping around Amram's head. The Prince's pussy contracted around Amram's fingers, his muscles sucking them with passion. The Duke laughed, enjoying the sight of a twitching prince.

"A-ah… Thank you…" Zerah whimpered as his uncle kissed him again with his lips drenched by the Prince's juices, "I apologize for not making you come…" he whispered again, ashamed of his incompetence. Amram chuckled a bit, "It's quite alright, boy, seeing you like this has given me everything I need right now."

"… But your shaft is still hard," Zerah stuttered, "Give me a moment and I can take it in…"

"No, you've better rest now. We will have quite the night before us," Amram smiled and brushed Zerah's weary face with his hand and the Prince was indeed in need of a rest, the past few days he had been used from dawn to dusk, and in his state he needed more sleep than the rest. Amram pulled his pants up and planted one final kiss on the Prince's lips before leaving and letting him rest. The prince did not know what was going to happen later that day and he wasn't one to ruin a good surprise and as such Amram decided to make his way back to the hallway.

[kinkedquill]

Prey For Me

F / M ┃ Human x Werewolf ┃ Trans x Cis ┃ Dubcon ┃ Trapped ┃ Anal ┃ Impregnation ┃ Belly Bulge ┃ +4k Words

A trans huntress is chosen by a werewolf to carry his seed.

Content warning: Gal with a tool.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊☽⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆☾₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

The burning in Kaska’s lungs got worse with each leap she took, even though the air around her was colder than anything she had experienced before as a hunter, it was like the whole world was turning against her, and after what she had just witnessed, it certainly felt like that way. Just a few hours before she had enjoyed a warm fire with even warmer booze with her fellow trappers, planning their next step on capturing the dreaded Beast of the Arkady Grove. It had terrorized the area for many years now, getting bolder and bolder with each passing year so much so that almost no one dared to enter the forest which had served as an important trade route for many years before it began to dwell there and that had been the reason why the Tsar had put a great bounty on the beast's head, which many had gladly accepted.

Yet, all who had tried to slay it had been butchered instead, and Kaska's group had met the same fate that night, leaving Kaska the only surviving member of her fallen lot. Kaska could still see in her eyes how they had laughed by the fire pit, "We are 30 strong, it doesn't stand a chance," one of the older men had said, a veteran trapper who had seen it all apparently. How could one beast slay 30 able men and women? Kaska dreaded in her mind as she kept running, hoping that the beast would be distracted by her fallen mates. She had worked as a huntress for a few years now and even though she had seen a lot, she had never seen anything like the werewolf they were hunting. The Beast was far larger than any other werewolf ever accounted for before, however, the Wolf's enormous size did not slow it down, and like a bull in rage, it had quickly slaughtered every single trapper hiding near the bait; Kaska herself. Despite how quickly everything had happened, she had watched it leap from the thicket on the first man and slit his throat with ease. It had an almost pitch-black fur, eerily glowing pale blue eyes and so many scars on its body it was a miracle it was still alive. With half of its right ear missing, there was a crossbow bolt near the cut ear, split to a much shorter size than the original bolt over the years it had carried with it. What had happened to the person who shot that bolt, Kaska did not know, but she could easily imagine it.

Kaska had been a bait before during a hunt and even though it was very dangerous, it usually wielded a much larger portion of the bounty, and as such she was willing to take the risk. She was fast and nimble, so getting away usually proved to be an easy task for her, and even though she had managed to gather some fat on her hips of late, under it all there was pure muscle and it remembered how to react fast. What few thoughts she could spare to what had happened, she thought that being bait might have been the reason why she was still alive. The Beast was certainly a clever one, it had avoided trappers for years, and it felt like it had planned its attack, which seemed very odd for such a creature. Werewolves were not known for their smarts, they were beasts, attacking anyone and anything without intent, but this one was different and that thought scared Kaska even more than the ferocity it had used to attack them.

Even with a little of the old magic running through her veins, it was hard to see in the darkness of the forest, the canopy let in only a little bit of the moon's pale light, and it was not much to go with. Kaska slammed into trees and branches, scratching her dark skin with twigs and thorny vines hanging from the canopy above while her black curly hair jumped wildly, collecting sticks of its own which were always a pain in the ass to untangle. No matter how well put together she had looked at the campsite, it was all gone now after running for so long, and her lungs begged her to stop with acid building up inside her, burning in her stomach unjustifiably.

To Kaska's horror, her panting and stomping were joined by another, far more oppressive sound. She could see the branches snapping into two behind her when she quickly glanced back and heard the loud stomping sounds as something heavy hit the soft forest floor. The Beast had not been distracted by the fallen trappers, it was right behind her. The sudden rush of fear in her veins allowed Kaska to flee faster and even though the forest was the Wolf’s home, it was far too large to navigate it as nimbly as she did. Kaska reached for a flashflask hanging on her belt and threw it behind her and for a moment the whole area was flooded with white light. The Beast let out a terrifying howl and stopped its advance while Kaska slid through the muddy leaves and hid beneath a large dead tree, hoping the dead roots would give her enough cover from the creature. Running away had not been the optimal choice for her, but staying would certainly have been an even worse one. Kaska covered her mouth with one hand and tried to calm her breathing as quickly as she could, the flask had given her some time, but she knew she had no chance of outrunning the Beast and she was already at the edge of her stamina.

Kaska could see the stunned Beast clearly as the moon made its fur glow with a silver lining, it clawed at its snout and growled, almost as if it was cursing her before it opened its pale blue eyes and glanced around, sniffing the air as it slowly turned around to view the area. Before entering the forest, Kaska had slathered herself with a balm made with earthly scents, it was meant to mask her scent, but she was afraid some of her open scratches combined with the sweating from the running might be leaking through the protective balm. The night was eerily silent and Kaska could hear her pounding heart. The werewolves had excellent hearing, but for some reason, the Beast hadn't noticed her, at least not just yet. It circled the area, hunched like a predator on a prowl, and sniffed the air. If Kaska could just wait it out, maybe she had a chance to survive the night, the Beast would certainly lose its interest in her and leave, or that was what she hoped would happen. Kaska went through mentally what items she still had in store if she had anything to distract the Beast again or even scare it enough to make it leave, but she had dropped her bag while running and there was no way to go back for it now. She still held on to her small dagger, but attacking the Beast would not be an option, it would take at least a few stabs to stop it, and by then it would be too late for her.

The Beast drew closer to the dead tree and Kaska held her breath, the werewolf moved slowly, but its piercing gaze did not meet Kaska's eyes. It looked like it didn't know where she had disappeared and Kaska would have let out a sigh of relief if she had dared. The Beast circled the tree, and when a pair of owls fled to the night sky, it began to run back to where the trappers had set their trap. As soon as it disappeared into the darkness, the forest became alive again, the night air was filled with the sound of critters, and with it also came Kaska's soft sobbing. The Beast was gone and now she would only have to wait for the dawn to break, which was still hours away, to survive.

Kaska made herself a promise to never underestimate her prey ever again. Before this, she had always finished her contracts, but this one would have to stay unfinished, she was never going to come back to these woods again, and thought about even learning a new trade. Being a huntress paid extremely well and the monsters dwelling in the night had become a far worse problem, even the Tsar could not deny anymore. Each year their numbers grew and the Beast of the Arkady Grove was nothing but a symptom of a spreading plague no one knew the root of, but Kaska was not going to be the one to help solve it anymore.

As time passed, Kaska was able to calm herself down, even wondering if she should leave now, but too afraid to do so, the images of her fallen comrades flashed in her mind, their screaming heads ripped apart by the monster. She leaned on her arm and shut her eyes in an attempt to sleep for a little bit, but the coldness of the grove did not allow her to rest. Kaska shivered alone in the darkness. Surviving and slaying the monsters was only part of the job, surviving outdoors was sometimes far more dangerous than the creatures she had slayed. Even with the winter still a season away, the nights in this area were known to be cold, sometimes even falling below frost. Kaska had survived a lot during her life, but she had only heard tales about men and women losing digits and even limbs during the coldest of nights, and with her sweating, she was bound to meet a terrible fate if she could not get to safety. Her shivering was not doing her any good either as her joints and muscles ached from her run, demanding to be stretched in her crouched position.

Only a few hours, only a few hours, Kaska lied to herself, hoping she could convince her body to believe it too, but her shivering did not yield. The more she waited, the more unbearable it became for her to stay in her makeshift hiding place.

Weighing on her options, Kaska saw no other option than to crawl out of her cold den and either try to find something to warm herself with or escape the woods. The werewolf had most likely already found something else to prey on or had returned to the failed ambush site to feast on the bodies there, either way, there was a chance and Kaska had to take it or perish. She thought about what she knew about the herbs in this area, were there any that would help her to warm up, like the ember root, which had saved many hunters even in the snowy mountains in the south, but none came to her mind as she began to crawl out of her little root den. Staying in the open even with the thick canopy above her made her feel more naked than when she had taken a bath in the middle of a small town after one very rigorous hunt. Her almost numb fingers circled nervously the cold glass of the final flashflask she still had on her belt, if it returns, I can still retreat back there, Kaska thought, her desperate plan had worked once and she prayed it would work a second time too if things came to it.

The rotting leaves rustled underneath her soles as she got up, glancing around in panic if her stalker had been there all along, but the forest was still alive with its nightly music and it gave Kaska some comfort as she began to look around to deduce her chances of either staying or leaving the grove. Staying on her feet gave some relief for her aching muscles and she thought she might even be able to run again, even if the full recovery would take days. Moving around also helped her feel more calm and warm, which helped her to think more clearly about her situation. Nothing on the ground nor near her seemed to be of any use unless she wanted to lit a fire or make a makeshift tent, neither of which was wise while the Beast prowled somewhere deeper in the forest. Kaska almost felt like she was in her element again, trying to solve a problem at hand was something she had always been very good at and why she had made such a good hunter, but her calmness soon faded when she suddenly realized that the forest had gone quiet again.

The Wolf was roaming nearby.

Acting fast, Kaska wrapped her hand around the final flask and ripped it from its fastening, she raised the flask above her head to throw it wherever the next sound would come, to her misfortune, her fingers were still numb from the cold and the flask slipped from her fingers as soon as her hand was up and the bottle shattered with a booming flash to the ground. It was forceful enough to drop Kaska to her back and the blinding light made her helplessly wriggle in the ground. Kaska tried to turn around and crawl in the direction of her former hiding hole when she could feel the sharp long teeth pierce through her leather shoulder pad, its canine teeth managed to break her skin and lodge themselves to her right shoulder. Kaska screamed, knowing her end was near as the furry beast put its clawed paw on her back and pushed her down to the muddy ground.

Kaska waited for the finishing bite or slash, but to her surprise, it never came.

The monster pinning her down growled with a blustering sound, demanding her to stay still like a dog guarding its food. Kaska was still blind, but she could feel the weight of the Beast which pushed her down to the mud. The sharp pain in her shoulder eased a little as the Beast moved, deciding not to put as much pressure on its jaws as it had been. Even though Kaska had seen the Beast before, being underneath it made him feel even bigger, its head was far bigger than Kaska's own, and she should have laid there three times over to even reach its full length.

The Black Beast's tail whipped back and forth with fury like it was thinking if it should clamp down on Kaska or not and Kaska could feel its wet nose against her cheek, sniffing for her curiously.

Then it did something even more unexpected. The monster released Kaska from its jaws, still keeping its paw on her as it began to sniff her more closely. Kaska had no idea what was happening, it hadn't done anything close to that before and she had never seen nor heard a werewolf act like this one did. The Beast's rough body radiated with warmth and Kaska couldn't deny it wasn’t a welcomed feeling even with everything going around her. She wondered if she had somehow gotten lucky, maybe it was confused and would soon let her go if she didn't move, but as soon as the Beat's snout poked her between her legs she let out a yelp and the Beast quickly snapped its jaws at her, barking her to stop and giving Kaska no other choice than to obey the monster.

The Beast ran its sharp teeth across Kaska's leather armor, almost as if it was playing with her, telling her that soon it would sink its teeth back into her and end it all. Kaska did not shiver from the cold anymore, but from the terror as she felt it nibble at her fastening before getting annoyed by the barrier not letting it reach the flesh and biting into the armor. With one swift move, it ripped the leather away, revealing the linen underneath it. The Beast drove its snout underneath Kaska's clothes, sniffing her even more deeply, its wet nose brushed against her bare skin as the Beast took in her smell and grunted almost in a confirming way. This was no ordinary werewolf and Kaska's muscles tensed again as the Beast let out a guttural howl, with one claw it ripped through Kaska's clothes and clamped down to her barely fastened pauldron once again, this time not biting all the way through, but just enough to keep her in one place.

"Please," Kaska whimpered, fearing the monster would bite into her skin next, "I'm not a danger anymore, I will not hurt you…" The monster paused, clearly understanding her words, and for a moment Kaska hoped she would be freed, but then she could feel something warm and wet on her bare rear. The Beast's proudly erected member slid between her cheeks with pulsing heat and Kaska understood what was bound to happen, her mind was mixed with horror at the realization and strange arousal. Kaska was helpless and something unholy was about to take place. Even though she had slept with other humans before, she had always been on top, taking control of the situation and that's how she had always liked it, but right now, at this moment, a new feeling was growing inside her, a curious one which she would soon explore.

Pinned between her and the muddy ground, Kaska felt her shaft harden while the Beast used her body for pleasuring. With each stroke, it showed her more ferocity and passion than any human, and its animalistic grunts awakened something feral inside Kaska. The cognizance of being pinned down by a monster, letting it take whatever it wanted was somehow freeing, the creature understood her and was clever enough to ambush its hunters, yet it still had that wildness only found in nature.

The Great Wolf stroked its knotted member between her cheeks with fervor, its fluids wetting the already aching skin. Kaska could not see it even with her returning vision, but she could feel how thick and long it was, the shaft was longer than her forearm and the thickness made her slightly afraid, its flared tip was like a large apple and it wanted to get in. Kaska began to pant, unwittingly giving the wolf a sign of her approval as the cold ground brushed against her barely covered nipples, arousing Kaska even more. The Beast grunted again and thrusted its hips, Kaska could feel its tip poke her rear hard, slamming against her rim again and again. So, she spread her legs to allow her monstrous lover more room to enter and with a few more thrusts, it managed to plunge its engorged tip inside making Kaska yelp again.

The Beast growled with enthralled joy, bucking its hips with almost meticulous calmness, not wanting to hurt Kaska as she got used to its tip's width. Kaska gasped against the leaves, her cheeks flushed with rosiness as the warmth inside her grew. She could feel the Beats' throbbing veins just behind the tip, rushing its cock with even more blood as it kept growing from its original size. Taking all of it in would be a fine challenge for even the mightiest hunter, but she was willing to take it. Compared to the monster Kaska was nothing but a small twig, like one of those stuck in her curly hair whereas the Wolf was a large oak, able to bear even the strongest of the storms. Encouraged by Kaska's willingness, the Beast bucked its hips forward, driving in more of its length inside and each time it did so, Kaska gasped loudly, loving the sensations the hot shaft was sending to her aching rim.

Deducing it had given Kaska enough time to adjust to its size, the Wolf pulled its hips back, taking whatever length it had managed to force in, and slammed most of its length back inside. Kaska could feel its tip pushing against her guts, entering further than anyone had done before. Had she laid on her back, she would have seen the monster's tip poking beneath her tender lower belly, but the mere feeling was enough to help her vision it. Yet the Beast's knot was still pushing against her rim, not allowed to enter like the rest of its cock and the Beast wanted to lock itself inside her willing mate completely. The Wolf began to hammer into Kaska with long and deep thrusts, reaching deeper and deeper with each plunge and the abuse was sending wave after wave of pleasure inside her. Whether it was due to her used stamina or newly discovered vagary, soon enough Kaska's muscles spasmed uncomfortably as she came, releasing her thin load between her body and the ground. The feeling had no end and Kaska could feel herself get lost in it. No human lover had ever made her feel this way and she surrendered to the beast inside her.

The Beast roared, sending shivers down Kaska's spine, and adjusted itself more upright so Kaska was now slightly hanging in the air, held up by the monster's thick member while its claws dug into her hips, moving her up and down. It wanted to use Kaska's weight to force its knot in and little by little, Kaska could feel the hot sphere enter her body, locking the monster inside for good. She grasped the Beast's front paws, trying to hold herself up when another rousing orgasm hit her, making her body feel like it was a puppet without strings. The Wolf kept hammering into her, not slowing down at all, yet never pulling out its knot. Kaska could feel the Beast's warm fur behind her bare back while the cold moonlight shone on her naked front as her mind was lost in the haze. She had submitted to a monster and loved it more than anything in the whole world, hoping it would keep thrusting in her until her mind would go completely blank and the monster was not against such ideas, growling and roaring with lust for the little human's frail body, taking great pleasure from mounting its prey.

To Kaska's wonder, she could now see the Beast's member moving inside her while she was held up, pushing against her insides with each thrust, lining itself visibly on the skin. Its mere tip had spread her body so much that she knew she would only be disappointed by the following partners. The monster's fur-covered balls throbbed with virile seed, begging to enter her fertile body, but the Wolf was not finished just yet, it had waited for a suitable mate for years and now finding one it would take its time to fulfill its feral needs. It forced Kaska back down to the ground, allowing itself to thrust harder and deeper into her already-used body. The Beast had to keep Kaska's rear up as she was unable to do anymore herself, lost in a trance-like state as another orgasm spread its welcoming warmth through her body. Kaska could spare only a little thought of how she could walk back to the town while her trembling body took the abuse the monster offered. Where others had lasted only a few minutes, the Wolf kept thrusting into her with never-ending stamina.

Just as Kaska's eyes rolled back, the Beast plunged itself deep within for the final time and released its splattering flood of potent seed inside her guts. The bulging cock shot another load after the first while the monster kept bucking its hips, coating everything inside with its feral semen. Kaska's heaving breast quickened as the monster pushed her down, trying to reach even deeper as the third load forced its seed to gush out of Kaska's tender sanctum. The amount it released almost made her look pregnant, which soon subsided as the monster pulled its cock out and most of it came gushing out. The Wolf collapsed on top of her, but it still had enough strength to keep itself somewhat up so as not to crush Kaska’s convulsing body. She reached for its coarse fur and began to pet it gently, whispering sweet nothings to her feral lover and thinking how she might stay in the forest after all.

Too weary to think of anything else than the ecstasy flooding her whole body and mind, Kaska did not notice the Wolf standing by its back legs and taking her motionless body to its furry arms, and stepping back into the forest with her as the moon began to fall behind the trees.

--

A longer story/continuity will be available at my Inkitt & Subscriberstar next month!

[kinkedquill]

call me a pervert one more time and ill fetishize your dad again