Werewolf who you have to pay a ‘toll’ to every time you need to cross the clearing in the woods to get to your grandma’s house.
How do you do that?
Simple- you have to let him breed you. A brutal, possessive claim every time you cross his woods.
His hot breath washes over your skin, his claws flexing with anticipation. You know what's expected of you, and the thought of submitting to such a dominant creature sends shivers down your spine.
With a low, rumbling growl, he pins you on the ground on all fours, lifting your skirts and ripping off your undergarments to reveal your hole already clenching in anticipation for him.
No words are spoken during these 'payments', only his growls and the wet squelching of both your juices.
His cock rubs on the curve of your ass and then on your hole. His cock is throbbing as his precum coats your flushed skin, his mouth drooling saliva from its fangs as he sniffs your delicious arousal. So warm, so fertile, he growls in satisfaction.
Your screams echoes through the forest as the werewolf's enormous cock stretches you wide open, burying itself to the hilt inside you. He begins to rut into you with savagely, heavy balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust, claws digging into your skin, leaving deep gouges as it holds you down and pounds into you relentlessly.
Pain and pleasure blend together in a dizzying mix as he claims you, marking you as its own. But despite the agony, a dark, an insatiable part of you revels in being taken so brutally, so thoroughly dominated by him.
You're being used like a toy, a mere vessel for its base urges. And you look forward to it every single time.
Something about a feral not quite sapient werewolf really does it for me. Can't even talk to you, doesn't think, only knows: "Pussy makes knot feel so good" so he just humps and humps and whines and keens, hoping the burning ache in his cock will end. He's an animal hunting for pleasure
tw: heavy dub-con
Imagine finding a werewolf in the woods. You are just walking around, trying to get some fresh air after being inside for too long. You hear him before you see him, your whole body tensing while you try to process exactly what the sound is. The whining and the tiny grunts sound like a wounded animal, and your heart is just too big not to try to find it.
You find the werewolf trapped between two big trees, his body struggling against some kind of trap that probably some hunters set up. He's struggling, his whole body tense when he whines. Poor thing can't escape the ropes, but when you approach, you realize that's not why he's struggling so much. His hands are trapped above his head, and his dick is so hard and leaking so profusely there's a tiny puddle under him. You approach carefully, talking softly to him.
The second your smell hits his nose, you know you are in trouble. The roar that escapes his throat is nothing but a predator alerting his prey. You only have time to gasp before the ropes around him give up and he jumps to the ground. You turn around in a rush, determined to run away, but you don't have time for that. You don't have time for anything before his big body collides with yours.
Your body propells forward, but his big hand catches your head before you hit the ground. His body covers yours completely, so big and warm and relentless in his way to pull on your clothes. You try to soothe him with little shushing sounds, but with each movement it's clearer and clearer that what he wants to do to you, the reminder of his hard leaking dick pressing against your lower back while he ruts into your body.
You try to act proper, but the movement and his whimpering and groaning are doing something for you. Your body is heating, your pussy is clenching, and to your embarrassment... you want him. You open your legs a bit, and he falls between them, his dick finally positioned close to your pussy. You arch your back as much as you can, offering yoruself to him. That only makes him more feral, his roar shaking the trees around you when his claws finally rip the last piece of clothes off your body, the tip of his dick connecting with your core.
He doesn't wait for a word, he plunges forward while you let out a silent scream that turns into broken vowels and half-yips while he pounds into you with the whole force of his body. It's intoxicating, brain-melting, and you can barely contain the pleasure that mixes with a hint of pain. He's rutting into you like a desperate creature, mumbling words that make no sense, but not stopping for even a second.
Much to your humiliation, you come on the werewolf dick, screaming at the top of your lungs as your body seizes around him. His responding roar is accompanied by a feeling of fullness, your pussy stretching so widely you can barely breathe when his knot expands inside of you completely. You stop thinking, the only feeling is the one of your pussy clenching over his knot, of the fullness of him inside of you. And meanwhile, he comes and comes and comes, the only sounds out of his mouth are broken words, something about "knot", something about "pussy", something about "mate".
Loverboy Werewolf who was never really interested in humans before. Always setting his sights on the other female wolves in the pack. But that was before he happened across you, a perfect and plump thing lying so prettily in the meadow on his pack’s grounds.
Loverboy Werewolf who introduces himself to you by chasing a nearby deer into the meadow and promptly “saving” you from getting trampled. As if the deer were more dangerous than him.
Loverboy Werewolf who’s usually so good at talking to women, his tongue silver and his wit quick. But in the face of you he was nothing but a bumbling baboon who could barely utter a word. Luckily it was something you found charming in its own unique way. A soft blush on your cheeks that he couldn’t help but mirror.
Loverboy Werewolf who goes to the meadow daily, sometimes multiple times a day, in order to get just a chance at seeing you. Usually you’re there and on the rare occasion you’re not he always feels his heart drop into his stomach. If he could he would spend all waking and sleeping hours with you.
Loverboy Werewolf who will roll around in the flowers with you, talking and laughing your hearts out. He’ll watch as the sunlight casts a glowing warmth across your face. Like it too is drawn to your beauty and craves you as much as he does. All of nature is made more beautiful by you.
Loverboy Werewolf who proves it as he plucks flowers from the meadow and spends days trying to learn how to make flower crowns from a kind older woman in the pack. When he finally gets it down the first thing he does is make one for you, placing it gently on your head. The sight takes his breath away and from that day onward he makes a new one for you to wear.
Loverboy Werewolf who is no doubt in love with you. And he hopes you love him too. He thinks you do. At least the flowers he plucks the petals off of say so. If the way you act around him says anything then you definitely do. Especially when you egg him on to make chase.
Loverboy Werewolf who plays along with your games as he chases you around the meadow. But it never lasts long before he’s tackling you into the grass, protecting your head and rolling over till you lay on top of him.
Loverboy Werewolf who always sucks in a breath as you wiggle on top of him, your body rolling and grinding in a way that can’t be on accident. His heated eyes bore into your own, his claws finding their way into your plush waist and guiding your movements. Rocking you back and forth against his growing erection.
Loverboy Werewolf who tries so hard to stay calm but quickly ends up losing himself. Picking up pace and grinding you hard against his bulge. Rolling your hips up so it hits your sensitive clit every single time. He loses further control as your mewl sounds so much like a wolf’s howl. It sends him nearly feral for you every time.
Loverboy Werewolf tries to save your clothes as he undresses you. But his patience wears too thin too fast and your clothes end up a shredded mess no matter what you two do.
Loverboy Werewolf who’s so impatient to get you on his cock yet the second he bottoms out inside of you he keeps you still. Content just to feel your tight heat wrapped around his twitching girth. No matter how much you squirm or beg he never starts his thrusts until he’s ready. Feeling you and soaking in the sensation. Basking in the warmth of your embrace. He relishes it and wouldn’t rush a second of it.
Loverboy Werewolf who fucks you like an absolute beast when he finally is ready. Crushing the flowers beneath you as he ruts into like the wild animal that he is. The force of his thrusts sending your body flying upward before he slams you back down his length. The leaking angry tip of his cock making out with your cervix and smashing against every sensitive spot along your walls.
Loverboy Werewolf who hooks his arms beneath your legs, nearly bending you in half in order to get as close to you as possible. Finding new ways to jackhammer his dick into your silken walls in order to mold them to the shape of his shaft and get as deep within you as possible.
Loverboy Werewolf whose pace is utterly relentless. Fucking into you with only one goal in mind. Your pleasure. And when you’re crying and babbling through broken words, begging for his knot, he gives it to you. Of course, he’d give you anything you desire. He watches in awe as his knot swells up and the second he snaps his hips, popping the last of his knot into your already overstuffed cunt, you immediately cum. Your release triggering his own right after you, his knot locking you two together.
Loverboy Werewolf who inhales deeply, welcoming the perfect mixture of your flowery scent combined with his that wafts from your very pores. He can’t get enough of it even as he nuzzles into your throat, nipping at the sensitive flesh and inhaling deep. Your responding giggles send his heart fluttering. Gosh, how he wants to cherish you always.
Loverboy Werewolf who suddenly has the deep urge to sink his fangs into the flesh of your throat. To mark you as his and make you his mate. Whether you were a werewolf, a human, or even a damn vampire, he didn’t care.
Loverboy Werewolf who somehow resists the urge, not wanting to do anything rash without having talked to you. To get your unwavering consent. To have you beg to make you his as much as he yearns to beg to be yours. If he spends any longer consumed by your scent he may not last much longer. So he leans back, looking down at you as if you hung the moon and the stars.
Loverboy Werewolf who doesn’t say a thing, letting his eyes speak of the depth of his feelings as he plucks a nearby flower from the ground. One that made it intact after your sweaty activities. Gently he tucks it behind your ear, mesmerized by the sight of you once again.
Loverboy Werewolf who is so enchanted he doesn’t even notice it was the same type of flower he always picked to test if you were in love with him. The same flower that said yes every time.
You were adopted by a loving troll couple. They're a little concerned that you seem happy about being a hoe sleeping around rather than settling down with someone special and maybe giving them some grandkids.
Fortunately they have a wealthy troll friend who is single. They hold you down while your husband-to-be is examining you and fucking you. Your adoptive parents aren't touching you sexually; they are there to hold you down and inform your future husband of your proclivities. You will be cursing them out but you will change your tune when you see that his cock is much bigger than any troll you've taken.
Summary: Your adoptive troll parents have had enough of your promiscuous lifestyle. They invite their wealthy friend Rothgor over with an agenda; to hold you down while he claims you as his wife, whether you're ready or not.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows of your childhood home had always felt warm and safe.
Not today.
Today it illuminated the grim set of your father's jaw and the disappointed purse of your mother's lips as they stood between you and the front door.
"You can't be serious," you spat, backing up until your thighs hit the worn leather couch. "You actually can't be fucking serious right now."
"We've tried talking, sweetheart." Your mother's voice carried that gentle tone she always used when delivering news she knew would make you furious. "We've tried suggesting. We've tried everything."
"Everything except holding me down while some stranger fucks me?" Your voice cracked with disbelief. "That's your big parenting solution?"
Your father's massive green hand reached out, fingers thicker than your wrist closing around your bicep. "You think we enjoyed watching you parade through every troll in the eastern valley? You think it pleased us when you came home smelling of ale and strange males?"
"So now you're going to—"
The doorbell rang.
Your mother's face softened with anticipation. "That'll be Rothgor."
"Rothgor? The mining magnate? The one with the estate on the hill?" You tried to pull away from your father's grip. "He's old enough to be my grandfather!"
"He's four hundred and thirty-two. In the prime of his life." Your mother glided toward the door. "And he's been alone since his last wife passed. Too busy building his empire to find another. Until we showed him your picture."
"You showed him—" Rage choked off your words. "I'll scream. I'll fucking scream until the neighbors call the guard."
Your father sighed. "The neighbors are the ones who told us about the stable boy. And the baker's son. And those three traveling merchants last harvest moon."
The door opened.
You'd seen Rothgor from a distance at town gatherings; a mountain of a male in gray-green flesh. Up close, he was devastating. His shoulders barely cleared the doorframe. His chest was broad as was the whole of him actually. His jaw was granite, his nose had been broken more than once, and his eyes... his eyes were the pure gold, gleaming as they found you.
"So this is the wayward daughter." His voice resonated in your sternum. "Prettier than the photograph suggested."
"Go fuck yourself," you snarled, struggling against your father's grip.
Rothgor's massive head tilted. A slow smile spread across his face, and you saw something flicker in those golden eyes. Interest. Amusement. Appetite.
"Spirited," he observed, stepping inside. "I was hoping for that."
Your mother closed the door and slid the deadbolt home. The sound echoed like a coffin lid sealing.
"We'll hold her," she said, positioning herself on your other side. "She's stronger than she looks, but between the two of us—"
"She won't need restraining once I'm inside her." Rothgor approached. "But I appreciate the assistance for the examination."
"Examination?" You bucked against your parents' hands. "I'm not some horse at auction!"
"You've been with so many," your mother murmured, almost sadly, "we thought Rothgor should know what he's getting. And we should know if there's... damage. From your lifestyle."
You growled.
Rage and betrayal coiled in your belly.
Rothgor stopped before you, close enough that you had to crane your neck to see his face. His scent washed over you: leather and musk.
"Strip her," he said.
Your mother's hands went to the hem of your tunic. You thrashed, clawing at her wrists, but your father caught your hands and pinned them behind your back. The fabric ripped as your mother pulled it over your head.
Cool air hit your breasts, your nipples tightening immediately into hard peaks. You were bare beneath, always had been, and the shame of being exposed in your childhood home crashed through you.
"Lovely," Rothgor breathed, his golden gaze dropping to your chest. "Full. Round. Nipples like little berries." He reached out, and you flinched, but his touch was surprisingly gentle as he cupped the underside of your left breast. His palm was enormous, calloused, dwarfing the soft flesh completely. "Has she been suckled?"
"Not that we know of," your mother answered, as if discussing livestock. "She's always been careful not to get with child."
Rothgor's thumb dragged across your nipple, once, twice, and a traitorous shiver ran down your spine. "Sensitive. Good." He pinched, just hard enough to make you gasp, and rolled the peak between his fingers. "Does she wet easily?"
"You bastard," you hissed, trying to kick him. Your father caught your ankle before it connected.
"Excessively," your mother said, and the casual cruelty of her tone made your eyes sting. "We've heard her through the walls. She's never been shy about her... enthusiasm."
"Is that so?" Rothgor released your nipple, and your breast bounced slightly from the sudden absence. His hand slid down your ribs, over your belly, warm and calloused "I'll need to verify."
You felt his knuckles brush the waistband of your leggings. Felt him hook his fingers inside and pull, the fabric shredding like paper. His strength was obscene.
And then you were naked. Completely naked between your parents, held upright by their hands, while a stranger older than your great-grandparents looked at you like a meal he was about to devour.
"Spread her legs," Rothgor commanded.
Your mother's foot kicked your ankles apart. You stumbled, would have fallen if your father hadn't gripped your wrists tighter.
Rothgor sank to his knees. He was so large that even kneeling, his eyes were level with your belly button. His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft inner flesh, spreading you wider.
"Look at this," he murmured, and you felt his breath against your mound. "Look at this pretty little cunt."
You squeezed your eyes shut. You wouldn't watch. Wouldn't give them the satisfaction.
"Ah, ah." His thumb found your outer lips, parted them gently. "Open your eyes, little one. I want you to see what happens next."
When you didn't obey, your mother pinched the back of your arm. Hard. "You'll show respect to your future husband."
Your eyes snapped open. Looked down. Saw the top of Rothgor's dark-haired head between your thighs, saw his enormous hands splayed across your legs, saw the glint of his golden eyes looking up at you.
"That's better." His gaze dropped to where his thumbs held you open. "Such a pretty color. And wet already. Did I do that, or were you thinking about someone else?"
"I hate you," you whispered. "I hate all of you."
But your body was betraying you. You could feel the slickness gathering at your entrance, could feel your inner walls clenching on nothing. He was right—you were wet. Humiliatingly, shamefully wet.
Rothgor leaned forward. Kissed your belly. Just above your mound, his lips warm and dry, and the tenderness of the gesture made something crack in your chest. Then his mouth moved lower, and his tongue—gods, his tongue was enormous, licked a slow stripe up your slit.
You moaned. You couldn't help it. The sound tore out of you, raw and mortifying.
"Glorious," Rothgor said against your flesh, the vibration making your knees buckle. "She tastes like honey." He lapped at you again, slower this time, circling your clit with the flat of his tongue. "When you described her, I thought you were exaggerating. But no. She's a natural-born cocksleeve."
"She's been practicing long enough," your father muttered, and you heard the disappointment in his voice.
Rothgor ignored him. His mouth closed around your clit—sucked—and your vision went white. You jerked in your parents' grip, hips thrusting toward his face involuntarily.
"That's it, little one. Stop fighting." His thumb replaced his mouth, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud while two fingers of his other hand pressed against your entrance. "Let me feel how ready you are."
The fingers pushed inside. Just two, but Rothgor's fingers were thicker than any cock you'd taken—thicker than the stable boy's, thicker than the merchants', thicker than anyone. You felt yourself stretch around them, felt your walls clench and release, heard the wet shlick of your arousal coating his knuckles.
"Very ready," he announced, pumping his fingers slowly. Curling them. Finding that spot inside you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. "She's dripping. Look at this—" He withdrew his fingers, held them up for your parents to see. They gleamed with your slickness, strands connecting his fingertips to your pussy. "She could take me right now. No preparation needed."
"Please," you heard yourself say, though you weren't sure what you were begging for. For him to stop. For him to continue. For your parents to intervene. For them to leave so you could fall apart in peace.
"Please what?" Rothgor rose to his feet, towering over you again. His fingers—still wet with you—gripped your chin, tilted your face up. "Tell me what you want, little wife."
"I want you to—"
"I'll tell you what you want." His free hand moved to his belt. The leather creaked. "You want to feel what it's like to be truly filled. You've been playing with boys. Pretending at pleasure." His trousers fell, and his cock sprang free. "Now you're going to take a man."
You'd seen troll cocks before. Plenty of them. But Rothgor's... Rothgor's was something else entirely. It jutted far out of his body, thick as your forearm, veined and flushed dark purple at the head. His balls hung heavy beneath, each one the size of a plum, and the sheer mass of him made your mouth go dry.
"That won't fit," you whispered.
"It will." He stepped closer, the head of his cock pressing against your belly, leaving a smear of moisture on your skin. "You'll make it fit. You were made for this; all that whoring, all that practice. Your cunt has been training for me without even knowing it."
Your father released your wrists. Your mother let go of your arms. They stepped back, and you almost fell, legs trembling, held upright only by Rothgor's body as he crowded against you.
"I can't—"
"You can." He lifted you like a doll, hands under your thighs, spreading your legs around his hips. He let you fall back on the couch, back against the cushions, and then he was above you, between your thighs, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance. "And you will."
The pressure began. Just the head, just the first inch, and already you were stretched wider than ever before. Your hands flew to his shoulders, nails digging into his scarred flesh.
"Too big," you gasped. "Too fucking big, you'll tear me—"
"You'll take all of me." He pushed deeper. Another inch. Another. Your inner walls screamed, then softened, then clamped around him. "Feel that? Feel how your slutty little cunt is opening up? She knows her master."
He was right. Fuck, he was right. Your body was accepting him, reshaping itself around his girth, the pain giving way to a pressure so intense it bordered on pleasure.
Rothgor groaned when he was halfway seated. His head dropped back, cords in his neck standing out. "Tight. So fucking tight. Like she's never been touched."
"She's been touched plenty," your mother said from somewhere behind you, but her voice sounded distant now. Everything sounded distant except the feel of Rothgor's cock sinking deeper into your cunt.
"I don't care." He looked down at you, eyes blazing. "She's mine now. Every hole. Every drop of wetness. Every shudder and scream." He thrust suddenly and the last few inches disappeared inside you. His pelvis met yours. His balls slapped against your ass.
You gasped and felt something impossible: the bulge of his cock pressing against your belly from the inside. You looked down, horrified and fascinated, and saw the outline of him twitching beneath your skin.
"Oh gods. Oh fuck. I can see—"
"Feel it too." He grabbed your hand, pressed it against the bulge. "There I am, little wife. That's how deep I am in your guts. That's where I'm going to live from now on."
Your fingers traced the moving ridge of his cock inside you, and something in your brain snapped. The last resistance. The last shred of denial.
"Move," you heard yourself say. "Please. Rothgor, please fucking move."
His smile was beautiful. "There she is. There's my wife." He pulled back, all the way, and then slammed home.
The sound was a squelching thwack that echoed off the walls. Your scream tangled with his groan, and then he was doing it again. And again. And again.
Each thrust drove the air from your lungs. Each withdrawal left you gasping for more. The couch scraped across the floor. The headboard banged against the wall in rhythm.
"Finally," your father said, and you'd almost forgotten he was there. "Our daughter needed a good husband to teach her how to behave."
"She's crying," your mother observed, and you touched your face, surprised to find wetness on your cheeks.
"I'm not crying because I'm sad," you sobbed, but the words came out broken, punctuated by Rothgor's thrusts. "I'm crying because—ah!—because it's so—fuck—"
"So good?" Rothgor leaned down, his chest crushing your breasts, his mouth against your ear. "Say it. Tell your parents what their little whore daughter discovered today."
"It's so good! It's the best I've ever—gods, right there, don't stop, please don't fucking stop—"
His pace increased. Brutal. Punishing. The sound of your combined juices filled the room, punctuated by his balls slapping against you and your own hoarse cries.
"I'm going to fill you," he grunted, and his rhythm went erratic. "I'm going to pump my seed so deep in this perfect cunt that you'll be pregnant before I pull out."
"Yes," you heard yourself say. "Yes, yes, yes—"
"And every night after that. And every morning. I'll keep you heavy with my children until your tits leak milk and your belly swells with the next one before the first is born."
"YES—"
Your orgasm hit hard. Your back arched off the couch, your pussy clamped down on his cock like a fist, and you screamed in surrender.
Rothgor roared. His hips slammed forward one final time, burying himself to the root, the hot gush of his release flooding your womb. Pulse after pulse after pulse, so much that you felt it leaking out around his shaft, dripping down your thighs onto the ruined couch.
No one moved after.
Rothgor stayed inside you, his breath hot against your neck. Your parents stood frozen in the corner, something like wonder on their faces.
And you... you lay there, impaled on the biggest cock you'd ever seen, feeling his seed trickle out of your overstuffed cunt, and realized you'd never been happier to be wrong.
"Welcome home, little wife," Rothgor murmured against your throat.
You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him deeper.
Sorry if I asked this twice my wifi crashed so I’m not sure if the first one got posted/asked….Goblin gangbang?? (Like, they kidnap the reader, and she does the deed and is basically obsessed with them and doesn’t want to leave (maybe even pregnant, if you write about that… it’s fine if not).)
Goblin-Banged (goblins x fem!hum!reader)
Trigger Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, non-con, kidnapping, gangbang, nickname (little doe), double penetration, triple penetration, oral, anal, p in v, breeding, power imbalance, size difference, humiliation/degradation, cum inflation, captivity, stockholm syndrome.
Summary: When goblins drag you from your village into their dark lair beneath the hills, you expect torture and death. Instead, they take you apart piece by piece... every hole stretched, filled, and claimed.
═══════════════════════════════════
The burlap sack rips from your head and torchlight scalds your eyes. You're on your knees. Stone scrapes through your dress into your skin. The air stinks of mushroom rot, unwashed bodies, and something copper-sweet you can't name.
"Human's awake."
The voice is rough. You blink through tears and see them. Goblins. A dozen at least, circling the cavern's edge. Their skin ranges from deep-green to bruised purple. Yellow eyes gleam from faces with sharp chins, hooked noses and teeth filed to points or broken into jagged shards.
One steps forward. Taller than the rest—which means he barely reaches your shoulder. His cock hangs out. You see it immediately because he's not hiding it. None of them are. They're naked. Every single one. And every single one is half-hard, leathery sacs swinging between spindly thighs, shafts nothing like human ones. Thick, long making it difficult for them to move.
"That's the one," he says, and his voice drips satisfaction. He grabs your chin. His fingers are cold. "That's the breeder."
You try to spit. He squished your cheeks and stropped you.
"None of that, little doe." He smiles darkly. "We been empty down here. No females in three seasons. You know what three seasons without a cunt does to a tribe?"
Behind him, another goblin laughs. "Makes 'em hungry."
"We're starving," the first one agrees. He lets go of your face and steps back. "And you're dinner."
You scramble backward. Your heel hits something soft. A green hand clamps around your ankle.
"No running," whispers the goblin behind you. His breath smells like meat. "No running at all."
They drag you to the center of the cavern. Furs are piled there. You thrash. You kick. You catch one in the jaw and he screeches but doesn't let go. Another pins your arm. Another takes your other leg. They stretch you out like a sacrifice.
The first goblin kneels between your thighs. He pushes your dress up past your hips. Your smallclothes rip away in one tug.
"Look at that," he breathes. His yellow eyes fix between your legs. "Look at that fat little slit."
His thumb presses against your entrance. You're dry. Terrified. But his thumb is rough and calloused and it drags across your clit anyway, once, twice, and your body betrays you with a twitch.
"Oh, she's got some juice in her," he says. He shows the other goblins his thumb. It's wet. "Tastes sweet. Want some?"
He puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks it clean.
Then his face is between your thighs.
His tongue is longer than a human's. Pointed. It laves up your slit in one hot, wet stroke and you hate the sound you make. A gasp that cracks into a moan. He does it again. Slower. He presses the flat of his tongue against your clit and circles and you buck up into his mouth like a whore.
"That's it," he growls against your flesh. "That's it, little doe. Get wet for us. Get sloppy."
His fingers join his tongue. One. Two. They're thinner than human fingers but longer. They curl inside you and find that rough patch on your front wall and he scrapes and you scream.
Not from pain.
From the shock of pleasure that punches through your belly.
"She likes it," another goblin observes. He's stroking himself now. His cock is thick, the head almost black with engorgement. "She's a natural slut for goblin cock."
"She hasn't had any yet," the tall one says. He pulls his fingers out. They're coated. He holds them up. "Smell that, brothers. That's a human female ripe and ready."
He shoves three fingers back in. Your pussy stretches around them. The wet sounds are obscene. He finger-fucks you hard and fast, his palm slapping against your clit each time, and you can't stop your hips from rolling. Can't stop your thighs from spreading wider.
"Please," you gasp. You don't know what you're begging for.
"I know what you need." He pulls his fingers out. Positions the head of his cock at your entrance. "You need to be filled."
He shoves in.
All the way, one brutal thrust that splits you open. Your back arches off the furs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream. He's thicker than his fingers, veined, ridged in places human cocks aren't ridged, and every ridge scrapes your walls as he sinks to the hilt.
"Gods," he hisses. His clawed hands grip your hips hard enough to bruise. "Gods, her cunt is clenching. Squeezing me like a fist."
He pulls out. Shoves back in. The ridges drag in reverse and you sob.
"That's right. Cry. I want to hear it." He sets a rhythm. Deep. Grinding. Each thrust punches the air from your lungs. "So tight. So fucking tight. We're gonna wreck this hole."
Another goblin appears at your head. You didn't see him move. He grabs your hair and pulls your head back, and his cock is there—long, curving slightly upward. The tip presses against your lips.
"Open," he says.
You clamp your mouth shut.
He pinches your nose.
You hold out for ten seconds. Twenty. Your lungs burn. Your eyes water. You gasp for air and his cock shoves past your teeth.
"That's a good little doe." He feeds you his length. Not all of it, just enough to fill your mouth, to tease against the back of your throat. "Suck. Or I'll go deeper."
You suck. Your tongue drags along the underside of his shaft. He tastes like salt and something muskier. He groans and his hips twitch and you choke.
"Easy," he murmurs. "Easy. You'll learn."
Below, the first goblin fucks faster. His balls slap your ass with each stroke. The wetness is constant now, your cunt drooling around his cock, coating his shaft, dripping down to the furs. He notices.
"You're creaming on me," he says. "Look, brothers. Look at her cream."
They gather closer. Yellow eyes stare at where you're joined. You should be humiliated. You are humiliated. But the shame is distant, muffled by the fullness in your pussy and the weight on your tongue.
"She needs more," someone says.
"Patience," the tall one grunts. "I'm not done with this cunt yet."
He pulls out. You whine around the cock in your mouth.
"Shh," says the goblin above you. "He's just giving someone else a turn."
True. Another goblin is already climbing between your thighs. This one is smaller but his cock is not—thick as a beer bottle, the head flared like a mushroom. He doesn't tease. He lines up and pushes.
You scream around the shaft in your throat.
He's too big. He's too big. Your pussy burns as it stretches, as the flared head pops past your entrance and the shaft follows inch by inch. The goblin above you pulls his cock from your mouth so you can breathe.
"Too much," you gasp. "Too—"
"No such thing," the goblin says as he rocks his hips, working the last inch inside you. "There. See? All of it fits."
Your vision goes spotty. You feel impossibly full, stuffed to bursting. He pulls back and thrusts forward and the flare of his head drags against your cervix and you sob.
"She's crying," someone says.
"Good tears," the tall one answers. He's moved to your side, stroking himself and watching. "Look at her face. She's not in pain anymore."
He's right. The burn has faded to a deep ache that throbs with every pulse of your heart. The goblin above you—the one with the curving cock—kneels by your head again.
"Open."
You open. He slides back into your mouth. This time you suck without being told. Your tongue works the underside of his shaft, finds the ridge where the head meets the shaft, laps at it. He shudders.
"She's learning fast."
"Goblins teach well."
The one in your pussy fucks you with that deep rhythm. Each stroke pushes against your cervix, not quite breaching it, just nudging, reminding you how deep he is. Your hips start moving with him. You hate yourself for it but your body doesn't care about hate. Your body wants to be pleasured.
"Flip her," the tall one says.
The goblin in your cunt pulls out. You feel empty. Hands grab you, turn you onto your stomach, pull your hips up. Your dress falls around your shoulders. You're naked from the waist down, exposed, presented.
Two of them press against you from behind.
"Double," one says. "I want double."
"Hold her open."
Fingers spread your cunt lips. Something cold and wet drips onto your anus—spit, you realize. Someone's saliva. A thumb presses against the tight ring of muscle and you flinch.
"Shh," comes the soft voice again. "Shh, little doe. It'll hurt but then it won't. You'll see."
The thumb pushes inside. You clench and he waits, patient, until your body relaxes around the intrusion. Then a second finger. Stretching. Burning. He scissors them and you moan into the furs.
"Ready," he says.
A goblin slipped under you, his cock nudging your cunt. You lowered to take him while the second—the one with the flared head—presses against your ass.
"On three," someone says, and laughs.
They push together.
You lose your breath. Lose your voice. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out. Two shafts filling you simultaneously, the thin wall between them so sensitive you feel every ridge, every vein, every twitch. They're different temperatures—one warmer than the other. One longer, one thicker. They slide against each other through your flesh.
"Fuck," groans the one in your cunt. "She's milking me."
"Both holes," the other gasps. "Both holes gripping."
They start moving. Not in sync. One thrusts while the other pulls, either way you're always full, always stretched, always being fucked from both sides. The friction is maddening. The fullness is delirious.
"More," you hear yourself say. "Please, more—"
"More what, little doe?"
"More. More."
The goblin in your cunt finds your clit. His fingers are slick with your wetness. He circles the hard nub and you shatter. The orgasm rips through you without warning. Your pussy spasms, clenching and releasing, and the goblins groan in unison.
Your ass clenches too, gripping the cock there like a vise. You're sobbing now, tears hot on your cheeks, but you're also pushing back against them, grinding, desperate to keep them inside while your body shakes apart.
"She came," someone says, wonder in his voice.
"She came on goblin cock."
"She's ours now."
They don't stop. They keep fucking you through the aftershocks, through the oversensitivity that makes you whimper, through the next orgasm that builds without your permission. Your mind is static. All you know is the stretch, the fullness, the guttural sounds they make behind you.
Their seed floods you, drips down your thighs.
They pull out. You collapse onto the furs, leaking, trembling.
"Not done," says the tall one. You'd forgotten about him. He's been watching, stroking himself, waiting. "Not even close."
He presses you further down. Spreads your thighs. Your cunt is gaping now—you can feel the cool air inside you—and he stares at it.
"Beautiful," he says. "Destroyed and beautiful."
He positions himself behind. But instead of your cunt, he pushes against your ass.
"I want this one," he says. "It's still tight."
He pushes in. Your ass has been stretched but not enough. The burn returns. He's thick and he doesn't stop until his hips meet your asscheeks.
"Look at me," he commands.
You look. His yellow eyes bore into yours.
"You're not leaving this lair," he says. "You know that, right? We're going to breed you. Fill you every day. Every hour. Until your belly swells with goblin young."
He thrusts. Your eyes roll back.
"Until your tits drip milk for our spawn."
Another thrust. You moan.
"Until you can't remember your own name. Just ours. Just this."
He fucks your ass hard. His balls slap against your cunt, still wet and dripping, and the sensation is too much—another orgasm crashes into you without warning, making your whole body convulse. He keeps going. Fucks you through it. With every stroke and you can't stop coming, can't stop shaking, can't stop wanting.
"Take it," he growls. "Take all of it."
He comes in your ass. The heat floods you and he stays inside until he softens, then pulls out, watching his cum drip from your stretched hole.
You lie there. Broken open. Used. Filled.
**************
Time loses meaning.
They take turns. Three of them fucking you at once, somties four or five. Using your cunt at once—impossible, but they manage, two fingers from one goblin stretching you alongside a cock, your ass filled with one or two cocks while another uses your mouth.
You learn to breathe through your nose. Learn to swallow. Learn to beg without shame.
They arrange themselves like a wheel around you, holding you up, fucking every hole simultaneously. You can't move. Can't speak. Can only exist as the vessel for their pleasure.
"You're taking it so well," they murmur. "So fucking well, little doe."
The tall one—their leader, you learn his name is Rikkit fucks your throat until you gag and tears stream down your face. He calls you his pretty little cocksleeve. You moan around his shaft.
Another one spends an hour between your thighs, licking and sucking, drawing orgasm after orgasm from your exhausted body. He smiles when you try to push his head away. "No," he says. "You want this. Your cunt is dripping for it."
They come on your face, your chest, your belly. They paint your skin with seed and lick it off. They call you their doe, their breeder, their little human whore.
And you love it.
The realization hits you sometime around the fourth hour—or the eighth, or the twelfth. You're on your hands and knees, five of them around you, taking turns while the others watch. Your arms shake. Your thighs are slick with cum. Your holes are so full they ache.
Rikkit kneels in front of you. His cock is hard again—always hard, they recover so fast. He cups your chin.
"Look at you," he says. "Three seasons we waited for a female. Three seasons of nothing. And then we find you." He strokes your cheek. "You're not fighting anymore."
You're not. You lean into his touch.
"Why would I fight?" Your voice is hoarse from screaming. "This is... this is..."
"Say it."
You close your eyes. "This is what I needed."
He kisses you. His mouth tastes like your own cunt and goblin seed. You kiss him back. Behind you, a cock pushes into your cunt. Another into your ass. They thrust in opposite rhythms and you moan into Rikkit's mouth.
"We're going to keep you," he whispers against your lips. "Forever."
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes. Yes."
*************
Weeks later, after many more goblin bangs... when the torches have burned low and the other goblins have collapsed in exhausted piles around the cavern, Rikkit slides into your lap. His finers slide into your cunt easily. You're gaping now, so well-fucked, that there's no resistance. Just fullness. Just warmth.
"You're carrying," he says.
You press your hand to your lower belly. It's too soon to know but something feels different. A weight you hadn't noticed before.
"Maybe," you whisper.
"No maybe." He curls his fingers. "I can smell it. We all can. You're ripe with our seed."
You should be horrified. You should be planning your escape.
Instead, you grind down on his fingers and smile.
"Good," you say.
He laughs. "Good, little doe? You want to swell with goblin spawn?"
"I want to stay." You look around the cavern at the sleeping goblins. At their sharp faces and twisted limbs and yellow eyes. At the cocks still half-hard even in sleep. "I don't want to leave."
"You can't leave," he says simply. "You're ours. This is your home now."
He fingers you slow and deep. Not for his pleasure—yours. He watches your face as you come apart again, as you moan and cling to his shoulders, as you drip down his shaft for the hundredth time. When you collapse, he strokes your back.
Belonging to Them (3 werewolves x fem!human!reader!2nd POV)
Summary: During an autumn hike, you take a wrong turn and become lost in the Blackwood Forest, unaware that you’ve entered during the peak of the werewolf rut…
The path dissolved behind you about an hour ago. What began as a crisp, golden-hour hike on a marked trail had somehow turned into a clumsy, panicked scramble through thickening underbrush. The trees of Blackwood rose like gnarled, disapproving sentinels, their canopy choking out the dying light. A cold, damp mist began to coil around their roots, and the air carried a strange, metallic tang that coated the back of your throat.
You pulled your thin jacket tighter, your breaths coming in short, visible puffs. “Stupid, stupid,” you muttered to yourself, fumbling with your phone. The screen’s glow was a pathetic beacon in the overwhelming dark. No signal. The map app was a useless grid of pixels. A deep, reverberating howl tore through the forest silence, far too close for comfort. It wasn’t the lonely cry of a distant wolf. It was a declaration, thick with a hunger that felt… wrong. Your blood turned to ice water.
You ran. Logic fled. Twigs lashed at your cheeks, brambles clawed at your jeans. The forest became a malevolent labyrinth. You burst into a clearing, moonlight pouring down from a gap in the trees, and your flight ended in a heart-stopping freeze.
They were already there. Waiting. Or perhaps they’d just arrived, drawn by the thunder of your pulse and the sweet, terrified smell of you.
Three of them. They were not wolves. They were werewolves, in the full, horrifying mythic sense. Towering over eight feet tall on digitigrade legs corded with obscene muscle, covered in dense fur the color of shadow, wet earth, and tarnished silver. Their muzzles were long, lined with razor-sharp teeth, saliva dripping in long strings to the forest floor. But it was their eyes that held you—a blazing, intelligent amber, burning with a feral, ravenous madness.
And between their legs, the reality of that madness was grotesquely evident. Their cocks were fully erect, huge, brutal-looking things, thickly veined and ruddy, emerging from heavy, bestial sheaths. At the base of each, a swollen, bulbous knot was already forming, a fleshy promise of anatomical lock. They stood at attention, throbbing in time with their low, rumbling growls. The air wasn’t just cold now; it was thick with the smell of heated animal musk, pine, and raw, aggressive testosterone.
You made a sound—a whimper trapped in a paralyzed throat.
The largest one, his fur a mix of charcoal and silver, took a step forward. His paw—no, his hand, though tipped with black claws—crushed a rotten log into pulp. He sniffed, a wet, sucking inhalation that flared his nostrils. “Fe…male.” The word was a distorted, guttural rumble, barely recognizable, dragged from a throat not meant for human speech.
“Please,” you choked out, backpedaling until your shoulders hit the rough bark of a tree. “I’m lost. I’ll just go—”
“Rut,” snarled the second, a brute with fur the color of dried blood. He was pacing, his huge cock swaying, a drop of clear pre-cum beading at the tip. “Smell… sets the rut. Can’t stop.”
The third, the tarnished-silver one, simply stared, his chest heaving. “Hot. Tight. Ours for the moon.”
There was no discussion. No further warning. The charcoal one lunged. It wasn’t a pounce to kill; it was a terrifyingly efficient act of capture. One massive hand clamped over your mouth, stifling your scream, the claws pricking your scalp. The other grabbed the front of your jacket and shirt and simply ripped. The sound of tearing fabric was explosively loud in the clearing. Cold air assaulted your bare skin, your bra following in ragged shreds. You were thrashing, a fish on a line, but his strength was absolute.
“Hold her,” the charcoal one grunted.
The red-furred one was on you in an instant, his rough hands grabbing your flailing legs, pinning them. The silver one moved behind you, his body a wall of heat, his arms wrapping around your torso, imprisoning your arms at your sides. You were lifted, completely immobilized between the three monstrous forms, your feet dangling off the ground. Their fur was coarse, prickling against your naked skin. Their musk was suffocating, a pungent, animal odor that filled your nose and mouth.
“Taste first,” the charcoal one growled, his hot breath washing over your face. “Need to taste.”
His massive head lowered, and a broad, wet, impossibly hot tongue dragged from your collarbone up the side of your neck. You jerked, a sob muffled by his hand. He licked again, a long, slow, possessive stripe over your shoulder, then down the valley between your breasts. He was marking you with his scent, lapping at the cold sweat of your terror. The red one was doing the same to your legs, his tongue abrasive on your inner thighs, pushing them apart with his muzzle. The silver one nuzzled and licked the sensitive skin behind your ear, a horrifying parody of affection.
“Sweet,” the red one rumbled into your thigh. “Salty. Ours.”
The charcoal one finally removed his hand from your mouth, only to replace it with the thick head of his cock. It bumped against your lips, smearing pre-cum across them. “Suck,” he commanded, his amber eyes boring into yours. “Feed the rut. Open.”
You clenched your jaw shut, turning your head. A low, dangerous snarl came from the red one. He shifted his grip, and one claw-tipped finger pressed dangerously against the tender flesh of your inner thigh, a silent threat of far worse pain. “Open. Or we rip you open elsewhere.”
A raw, defeated sound escaped you. You opened your mouth a fraction. It was enough. The charcoal one pushed forward, the broad, spongy head of his cock forcing its way past your lips. You gagged instantly, your jaw straining. It was too big, it tasted of musk and salt and something uniquely wild, it filled your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. “Deeper,” he grunted, his hips giving a short thrust.
Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to breathe through your nose. He set a ruthless, shallow rhythm, fucking your mouth with no regard for your choking. His claws tangled in your hair, holding your head firm. “Good. Wet little hole. Take it.”
He pulled out, your saliva and his pre-cum making a slick, obscene strand. Before you could even cough, the red one was there, shoving his cock into your violated mouth. His was slightly differently shaped, hotter, the knot at the base already more prominent. He was rougher, his thrusts more frantic. “Fuck yeah, that’s it. Gonna paint this pretty throat.” You gagged and retched around him, your body convulsing, but the silver one held you mercilessly tight.
They took turns using your mouth, a brutal rotation. The silver one went last, his cock hitting the back of your throat until you saw spots, his low groans vibrating through you. “Gonna come in her ass later,” he panted to the others. “Keep her mouth for the knot.”
After what felt like an eternity of suffocation and humiliation, the charcoal one spoke. “Now the cunt. My turn.”
You were lowered, but not released. The silver one forced you face-down onto the bed of damp moss and leaves. The earthy smell of decomposition filled your nostrils. His heavy weight settled on your back, pinning your upper body. The red one knelt between your splayed legs, his hands rough on your hips, yanking them up. You were fully exposed, utterly vulnerable.
A blunt, terrifying pressure pushed against your entrance. You were dry, clenched tight in fear. “No, please, you can’t—” you sobbed.
“We can,” the charcoal one said simply. And he shoved inside.
The pain was white-hot and tearing. A ragged scream was ripped from your lungs. He was enormous, stretching you far beyond any limit, a burning, splitting invasion. He didn’t wait, didn’t care. He pulled back and slammed home, setting a brutal, piston-like rhythm. The sound of his hips slapping against your ass was a stark, wet percussion in the night, mixed with his guttural grunts and your broken cries.
“Tight! So fucking tight around my cock!” he roared, his claws digging into the flesh of your hips. Each thrust jolted your entire body, grinding your face into the dirt. The pain began to morph, a terrible, shameful heat spreading from your core as your traitorous body was forced to lubricate the assault. A broken moan slipped out, and you hated yourself for it.
“She’s getting wet,” the red one laughed, watching avidly. “Likes it, the bitch.”
The charcoal one’s pace became erratic, frantic. “Gonna knot… gonna fill this fertile cunt.” With a final, deep, grinding thrust, he buried himself to the hilt. You felt the swollen bulb of his knot press insistently against your stretched rim. He roared, a sound of pure bestial triumph, and you felt a hot, gushing flood deep inside you as he came. His cock pulsed violently, jet after jet of thick cum filling you. At the same time, his knot swelled fully, locking him inside you with a painful, stretching pop. You were stuck, impaled, feeling the hot pulses of his release with horrifying intimacy.
He stayed there, panting, his weight crushing you, as the other two waited with predatory patience. After long minutes, his knot deflated enough for him to slip out with a wet, sucking sound. A rush of his cum leaked out of you onto the moss.
Before the emptiness could even register, the red one was pulling you onto your hands and knees. “My turn in the cunt,” he sneered. “Warm it up for me, brother.”
He didn’t bother with any pretense. He aligned himself and drove into your used, slick, cum-filled passage. The stretch was different, another wave of burning fullness. He fucked you with a savage, jackhammering intensity, pounding you so hard your arms buckled. Your head swam, a dizzying cocktail of pain, shame, and the relentless, unwanted stimulation that was coiling a tense, agonizing pleasure in your gut.
“Gonna come in you too,” he snarled. “Breed you deep. Maybe a whole litter.” His knot began to swell, stretching you even wider than before. With a series of sharp, punishing thrusts, he seated it inside you, howling as his own release joined the first’s. You felt impossibly full, stuffed, a container for their seed. Your body, against your will, clenched around the invading knot, and a violent, shocking orgasm tore through you. You screamed, not in pleasure but in utter violation, as your hips jerked and spasmed, milking the werewolf’s cock while your mind screamed in revolt.
When the red one pulled out, leaking and spent, you collapsed onto your side, trembling uncontrollably, a mess of tears, sweat, and their cum.
The silver one loomed over you. He hadn’t spoken much. His eyes were fixed on your other hole. “Promised,” he said, his voice a dark whisper.
“No, not there, please, I can’t—” you begged, voice hoarse.
He flipped you onto your stomach again. The red one held your shoulders down. The charcoal one, now recovered, spread your ass cheeks wide. You felt a cold, wet dribble as one of them spit on your puckered entrance. It was no preparation.
The silver one pushed. The initial breach was a agony so sharp you couldn’t even make a sound, just a silent, open-mouthed gasp. He was relentless, forcing his way into the tight, virgin channel with single-minded determination. It was a slow, excruciating rending. When he was fully hilted, you felt split in two, stuffed beyond all capacity. He fucked your ass with a steady, deep, grinding rhythm that stole the air from your lungs. The pain was overwhelming, but beneath it, the overstimulation of your front and the brutal prostate massage created a feedback loop of sheer sensory hell. Another orgasm, dry and wrenching, seized you, making you sob in despair.
He lasted a long time, growling praises about your tight heat. When his knot swelled and locked in your ass, his cum flooding that forbidden channel, you blacked out for a few seconds.
You came to with all three of them standing over you, their cocks hard again, gleaming in the moonlight. Their rut was not sated. The look in their eyes was one of unified, final purpose.
“All,” the charcoal one said. “Now. Together.”
Terror gave you a final burst of strength. You tried to crawl away. It was futile. Hands like iron caught your ankles and dragged you back. You were positioned on your back this time. The red one lifted your legs, pushing your knees toward your shoulders, exposing your used, gaping cunt and cum-leaking ass. The charcoal one positioned himself at your front. The silver one, his cock slick with your blood and his own seed, aimed again at your ass.
The silver one behind you pushed in first, a familiar, brutal fullness. Then the charcoal one sheathed himself in your cunt, the dual penetration making you feel like you were being torn apart at the seam. You screamed until your voice broke. They began to move in a dissonant, punishing rhythm, one sliding out as the other pushed in, keeping you perpetually, unbearably full.
Then the red one knelt by your head. “All holes,” he reminded you, and fed his cock back into your bruised, tired mouth. You choked, unable to even gag properly, as he fucked your throat in time with the others violating your lower holes.
It was a relentless, three-pointed assault, a machine of flesh and need using you as its vessel. The sounds were obscene: wet slaps, guttural grunts, the muffled choking from your throat, the squelch of over-slicked holes being repeatedly penetrated. Your world narrowed to the brutal stretch, the pounding, the suffocating heat of their bodies, the blinding overload.
Their movements grew frantic, synchronized in their final drive. “Knot!” roared the charcoal one.
“Now!” bellowed the silver one.
With three simultaneous, crushing thrusts, they buried themselves to the root. You felt two massive knots swell and lock inside you at once—one in your cunt, one in your ass—while the red one’s cock pulsed down your throat. Their howls of release split the night as they came, a torrential flood filling every cavity. The red one pulled from your mouth at the last second, painting your face and hair with thick stripes of cum.
The internal flood was catastrophic, a hot, claiming rush that seemed to have no end. The pressure of the two knots, the unbelievable fullness, triggered a final, catastrophic series of orgasms that racked your body with violent, uncontrollable convulsions. Your vision whited out, consciousness flickering on the edge of oblivion.
They stayed locked in you for a long time, panting, their heavy weights pinning you to the earth. Eventually, the knots subsided. They withdrew with soft, wet sounds, a fresh trickle of their mixed seed following. You lay shattered, a broken doll leaking their essence onto the forest floor, unable to move, barely able to think.
The charcoal one leaned down, his muzzle close to your ear. His tongue licked a stripe over your cum-stained cheek. “Good female,” he rumbled, the madness in his eyes receding to a possessive satisfaction. “Strong. May carry our get.”
Then, as one, they turned and melted into the trees, leaving as silently as they had appeared. The moon shone down on you, cold and indifferent. The clearing was silent again, save for your shallow, hiccupping breaths and the slow, shameful drip of their violation from your body. The rut was over. For them. For you, the nightmare was just a permanent, aching reality etched into your flesh and soul.
You were alone, used, filled with their seed, and marked forever by the Blackwood.
Carrying His Eggs (alien!dragon x fem!reader!2nd POV)
TW: NSFW, MDNI, non-con, dub-con, P in V, oviposition, egg-laying, breeding, cervical penetration, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, psychological, power imbalance, fluids.
Summary: When your survey ship crashes on an uncharted planet, you become the obsession of Rodrak, a Draconian species that seeks a mate to carry his eggs. And he has chosen you.
⋆｡ﾟ🪐｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★🛸⋆｡ﾟ🪐｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆☆°‧★🛸
You’d heard him before you saw him. A low, reverberating sound, not a growl, but a deep, clicking purr that seemed to travel through the stone itself and up the bones of your legs. You’d frozen, pressing yourself into a crevice, heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. The sound got closer, accompanied by the heavy, deliberate scrape of something massive moving over rock.
Then, the glow of your stick caught him.
He filled the tunnel ahead.
Not a lizard, not quite a dragon from any Earth myth, but something horrifyingly in between. He was bipedal, towering over eight feet tall, covered in plates of deep umber and rust-red scales. A powerful tail, tipped with a spiked club, swept slowly behind him. His face was elongated, a draconic muzzle lined with serrated teeth, but his eyes… they were the worst. They were a luminous, intelligent gold, with vertical slits for pupils, and they were fixed on you.
You’d run.
A futile, stumbling scramble.
He’d followed with terrifying, leisurely strides. You’d fallen, the glow-stick skittering away, and then darkness had swallowed you, broken only by the faint bioluminescent fungi on the walls. He’d herded you, you realized later, like a predator corralling prey.
Now, you were here. In his lair.
The chamber was vast, the ceiling lost in shadow. The primary light came from a deep, subterranean geothermal vent that pulsed with a soft glow, illuminating piles of what looked like polished metal, strange crystals. In the center was a massive nest of dried, fibrous moss and furs.
He stood between you and the only exit you could see. He was studying you, his head tilted. He’d spoken earlier, his voice a deep, guttural rumble that formed words in your own language, learned, you presumed, from the wreckage of your ship or the bodies of your crewmates.
“You are damaged,” he had said, pointing a clawed digit at your bleeding leg.
Now, he took a step closer. You scrambled back until your spine hit the warm stone wall. “Stay away from me!”
“You fear,” he stated, the words oddly precise. “It is… expected. But unnecessary. I am Rodrak. This is my territory. You are in it.”
“I’ll leave,” you choked out, hating the tremor in your voice. “Just let me go. I won’t come back.”
A chuckle shook his broad chest. “You cannot leave. You are here for a purpose.”
“What purpose?” you demanded, though a cold, sick dread was pooling in your stomach.
He moved with a speed that belied his size, closing the distance in a blink. One large, clawed hand wrapped around your waist, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing. You shrieked, beating your fists against his scaled forearm, but it was like hitting solid rock. He carried you to the nest and set you down on the surprisingly soft furs, his body caging you in. The heat radiating from him was immense.
“My species requires a host,” he said, his golden eyes boring into yours. His muzzle was inches from your face. You could smell that musky scent directly now, stronger, more pungent. “A vessel. For the next generation. The eggs must be laid in a warm, living incubator. A compatible host.”
“No. No, find someone else. One of your own kind!”
“They are not compatible. Your biology… it is strange. Soft. Warm. Perfect.” He brought his other hand up and, with shocking delicacy, ran the back of a single claw down the side of your face. You flinched. “I have searched this sector for many cycles. The others from your crew were inadequate. Weak. You… you are strong. You have fire. You will be my mate. You will carry my clutch.”
“I will not!” you spat, thrashing anew. “You’re a monster! Let me go!”
The word ‘monster’ made his eyes narrow, but not with anger. With something like pity. “You do not understand. This is an honor. To be chosen. I will provide. I will protect. You will want for nothing, except my cock and my eggs.”
You stared at him, speechless for a moment.
Then the struggle began in earnest. You fought with everything you had, kicking, scratching, twisting. He simply weathered it, his grip unyielding. With a low growl, he used his weight to pin you fully to the furs, your arms stretched above your head, held easily in one of his massive hands. His lower body settled between your thighs, pressing down. You could feel something then, through the fabric of your torn flight suit—a thick, heavy pressure against your lower stomach. Something that was not shaped like any human anatomy.
“The fear will pass,” he murmured. “It is the instinct of the prey. But you are not prey. You shall be my breeding mate. Your body will learn this truth before your mind does.”
He used his free hand to rend the fabric of your suit. Teared it. Cool air, then the intense heat of his body, hit your exposed skin. You cried out. He examined you, his gaze scalding as it traveled over your breasts, your stomach, the junction of your thighs. He made that clicking purr again, deep in his chest.
“So soft. So smooth. So wet. A proper nest for my seed.”
You were sobbing now, tears cutting tracks through the grime on your face. “Please, don’t. Please…”
He ignored your pleas. His head lowered, and you felt the rough, dry texture of his forked tongue drag up the center of your body from your navel to your sternum. “You taste of fear and salt. Soon, you will taste of need.”
His hand released your wrists to tear away the remains of your clothing below the waist. You tried to knee him, to buck him off, but it was futile. He caught your thighs in his hands, spreading them wide, opening you to the glowing light of the cave and his relentless gaze. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to disappear into the darkness behind your eyelids.
Then you felt it. The pressure against your inner thigh. Hot, huge, insistent. You forced your eyes open and looked down.
His cock was as alien as the rest of him. It was thick, base easily the width of your wrist, tapering slightly to a blunt, rounded tip. It was a deep, glossy black, segmented like the exoskeleton of an insect, but pulsing with inner light of deep crimson along the seams.
The most shocking feature were the pronounced, bulbous ridges that ringed the shaft, each one swelling larger than the last in a massive, knot-like medial ring about two-thirds of the way up. At the very base, you could see the heavy, taut swell of what must be his sacks, but they seemed oddly rigid.
“It will fit,” he said, observing your fixation. “Your body will stretch. It is designed to. The ridges will prepare the channel. The final ring will lock us together as I deposit the eggs in your womb.”
“You’re insane,” you whispered. “It’ll kill me.”
“It will not. I have studied your structure. It will be… intense. But you will survive. You will thrive.” He positioned the blunt, hot tip of his cock at your entrance.”
He didn’t force it in.
Instead, he lowered his head again, his muzzle nudging your thighs apart further. You felt the hot, wet swipe of his tongue, broad and rough, directly over your pussy. You jerked and cried out. It wasn’t like a human tongue. It was abrasive, demanding, and it worked at you with a single-minded purpose. He licked into you, over your clit,the sensation was unbearable—a shocking violation that sent conflicting signals through your nerves. Your mind screamed in revolt, but your traitorous body, after minutes of this focused attention, began to betray you.
He purred again, the vibration against your sensitive flesh making you gasp. “See? Your flesh knows its purpose. It welcomes me.”
You were panting now, shame and fear and a horrifying, creeping thread of arousal tangling in your gut. He rose back over you, the tip of his cock now slick with your own moisture. He pressed forward.
The initial stretch was agonizing. You screamed, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. The blunt, thick head pushed past your tight ring of muscle, spreading you wider than you’d ever been stretched. You felt like you were being split in two. He paused, letting your body strain around the first inch of him. The segmented ridges caught on your inner lips, creating a dragging, burning friction.
“Breathe, mate,” he commanded, his breath coming in sharp huffs. “Take the first knot. It is the hardest.”
He pushed again. You felt the first large ridge pop past your entrance, and a broken sob wrenched from your throat. The feeling of being stuffed, filled beyond capacity, was overwhelming. He didn’t stop. He fed more of that monstrous length into you, each successive ridge stretching you a little more, burning a little less, until your nerves felt flooded, overloaded with the sensation of being utterly penetrated. You were achingly full.
Then, the largest ring, the medial knot, met your entrance. He rocked his hips, applying steady pressure. “This is the seal,” he grunted. “Take it, and the breeding truly begins.”
You were shaking uncontrollably, sweat slicking your skin. You shook your head, whimpering “no, no, no” like a mantra. He gripped your hips, his claws pricking your skin, and thrust forward with a powerful snap of his hips.
The knot forced its way inside you.
The sensation was beyond anything you could have imagined. A brutal fullness that transcended pain and became a pure wave of stimulation. Your back arched off the furs, a guttural cry torn from your lips that wasn’t entirely one of agony. You were locked on him, impaled, feeling every throb of that alien cock deep in your belly. Your pussy clenched and fluttered around the massive intrusion in helpless spasms.
Rodrak roared, a sound of primal triumph that shook the cave.
He began to move.
With the knot seated inside you, his strokes were short, deep, and punishing. He couldn’t pull out far, so each thrust was a grind, the ridges along his shaft dragging against your overstimulated inner walls with every inch. The friction was incredible, a relentless pleasure-pain that built with crazy speed. Your earlier fear was being consumed, burned away by the raw, physiological fire he was stoking inside you. Your cries shifted, the notes of protest dying, replaced by ragged, open-mouthed gasps.
“Your cunt is learning,” he snarled, his pace increasing. The slap of his scaled hips against your thighs was a loud, wet rhythm in the chamber. “It clutches at me. It begs for the eggs. Tell me you want them.”
“I don’t!” you moaned, but it sounded weak, even to your own ears. Your body was moving with his, hips lifting to meet his drives, your inner muscles milking the thick shaft locked inside you.
“Liar,” he hissed, pleasure evident in his guttural tone. “Your body does not lie. I can feel it. The channel is softening, preparing. It hungers for the clutch.”
He shifted his angle, and on the next deep, grinding thrust, the blunt tip of his cock struck something deep inside you—a spot that sent a lightning bolt of pure, blinding pleasure straight to your core. You screamed, your eyes flying open to meet his burning gold gaze.
“There,” he breathed, a smile stretching his maw. “The entrance to your womb. The eggs must pass through there. Do you feel how your body opens for me?”
He did it again, and again, hammering against your cervix with deliberate strokes. The pain of the initial penetration had melted, transformed into a deep, resonant ache of fullness and a shocking, spreading heat. A coil was tightening low in your belly, an orgasm building from the sheer intensity of the stimulation. The shame was still there, but it was distant, drowned out by the roaring in your blood and the slapping sounds of his breeding.
“I’m… I’m going to…” you choked out, unable to even finish the thought.
“Come,” he commanded. “Come on my cock. Prepare the way for the clutch.”
The order, the dominance in his voice, snapped the last thread of your resistance. Orgasm crashed over you, violent and all-consuming. Your vision whited out as your pussy clenched and convulsed around his invading length, the pulsations rippling along the ridged shaft. You heard your own voice, raw and screaming, echoing in the cavern.
Rodrak roared again as your internal spasms triggered his own release. You felt a sudden, hot flood deep inside you—not the familiar wetness of human cum, but a thicker, viscous, hot liquid. It filled you, painting your inner walls, a sensation of being claimed from the inside out. He pumped it into you in great jets, and you could feel your stomach distending slightly with the volume of it.
“The seed fertilizes the eggs,” he grunted, still pumping his hips in shallow motions, ensuring every drop was deposited at the deepest point. “Now… the clutch itself.”
The heat inside you intensified. You felt a strange, shifting pressure at the base of his cock, where it was locked inside you by the knot. Then, a new sensation. A solid, rounded object traveling up the internal channel of his cock. You felt it move through the shaft, a distinct, rolling bulge, until it reached the tip, pressed against your sensitive cervix.
Your eyes widened. “What… what is that?”
“The first egg,” he said, his voice strained with effort and pleasure. “Take it, mate. Open for it.”
The pressure increased. The blunt head of his cock was holding the egg firmly against the tiny opening of your womb. He gave a powerful thrust, pushing with his entire body.
A sharp pain lanced through you, different from the stretch of his cock. This was deeper, internal. You felt your cervix dilate, forced open by the pressure of the smooth orb. There was a pop, a sensation of something giving way, and then a profound fullness settled even deeper within you than his cock had reached. The first egg was inside your womb.
A broken whimper left your lips. It felt huge, a foreign presence in your body. Before you could even process it, you felt the second egg begin its journey up his shaft.
“Yes,” Rodrak moaned, his claws digging into your hips. “Your womb accepts them. It is perfect.”
The second egg pressed, and he thrust, and another pop, another wave of deep, filling pressure. Your mind was fragmenting. The pain was real, but it was woven through with the lingering echoes of your orgasm, the shocking heat of his seed, and the claiming pleasure of being so utterly used and filled.
Egg after egg traveled up his cock and was pushed through your cervix into your womb. Three. Four. Five. Each one stretched you a little more, added to the heavy, gravid fullness in your belly. You lost count, lost in a haze of pain and overwhelming sensation. You were moaning continuously now, a stream of helpless, needy sounds. Your hands, which had been pushing weakly at his chest, now clutched at his scaled shoulders, holding on as he filled you with his offspring.
The final egg was deposited. He held himself deep, the knot still swollen inside you, keeping his seed and the eggs sealed within your body. He collapsed forward slightly, bracing himself on his arms above you, his hot breath washing over your face. His golden eyes were half-lidded, sated, possessive.
You lay beneath him, utterly spent, filled beyond imagination. Your belly was visibly rounded, taut with the clutch of heavy eggs and his copious alien-dragon seed. Every internal shift made you gasp.
Slowly, over long minutes, the knot at the base of his cock began to soften and subside. With a final, wet, sucking sound, he slipped out of you. A flood of hot fluid—a mixture of his seed and your own juices—gushed from your well-used pussy, soaking the furs beneath you. You felt empty and yet impossibly full at the same time.
Rodrak rolled to the side, gathering you against his scaled body. One large hand came to rest possessively on your swollen belly. You were too overwhelmed to fight him.
“The clutch is seeded,” he rumbled, his purr a vibration against your back. “They will incubate. You will nourish them. In time, they will hatch.”
You should have been revolted.
You should have been planning your escape.
But a deep, primal lethargy had taken hold. Your body hummed with the aftermath of the most shocking experience of your life. The fear was gone, burned away. In its place was a hollowed-out awe, and dawning curiosity.
“How… how long?” you heard yourself whisper.
“Several of your cycles,” he said. “You will stay here. With me. I will hunt for you. I will keep you warm.” His tongue swiped over the mark his teeth had left on your shoulder. “You did well, my mate. Your fear was strong, but your breeding heat was stronger. You took my entire clutch. I am… pleased.”
The word ‘pleased’ should have meant nothing. But a strange, warm flush spread through your chest. You looked down at his large, dark hand splayed across your belly, over the eggs he had planted inside you. Your mind was a storm of conflict, but your body… your body felt settled. Complete.
You shifted, wincing at the ache between your legs and the heavy movement within you. You turned your head to look up at his draconic face. The luminous gold eyes watched you, waiting.
“Will it… will it feel like that again? When they hatch?”
Rodrak’s eyes gleamed with a fierce, possessive joy. He nuzzled the top of your head, his purr deepening. “No, little mate. That was the breeding. The hatching is different. But do not worry.” He tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer into his heat. “I will be here for that, as well. Every step. You are mine now. My nest. My queen.”
Imagine working at a monster restaurant where you are the only human staff. Everyone treats you like a little pet, cooing at you and thinking everything you do is adorable. It's infuriating, but the pay is really good and the tips are outstanding.
Especially from the dragon at the back. The one that comes every single night you are on shift and asks for the same salmon with veggies and a glass of your finest wine. He spends hours just staring at you, talking to you in your break and pretty much making you feel like you are the most special girl in the world. And he always leaves a tip so big he can solve your rent in only one night. You have a bit of a crush on the dragon. Or more like a big, big crush.
But one night he doesn't show up. You are kind of worried, but mostly annoyed that your best customer and the one that always makes your night a bit brighter is not there. The night is a disaster, and your tips end up being shitty because you aren't as bubbly as other nights. You walk home that night feeling awful, your whole body tired and your heart feeling too heavy.
Just to stop dead in your tracks when you spy a big figure sitting in front of your apartment. A very recognizable figure. Are you in danger? Do you need to call the police? You try to think of all the ways things could go wrong, but you are too slow. He turns towards you and stares, a big smirk stretching his dragon features, his fangs shiny under the moonlight. You are about to run when he opens his mouth: "about time, darling. I have a different kind of tip for you tonight."
Dragon bf who’s never really had luck in the sex department. Most of his past exes and flings have gone ok, that is until he shows them his two massive cocks. The second even bigger and more girthy than the one on top.
At first they try always tried to make it seem like it was no big deal. Told him they could take it. Only to jump to them squirming and whimpering before he’s even bottomed out with one.
If that was the only problem he might be able to handle it. He didn’t need total satisfaction, he could make it work. But when his past relationships also saw how much pre and cum he released they were hesitant to have penetrative sex all together! And if they did risk it they made sure he quadruple-wrapped up and he had to pull out before he was about to cum anyway.
The preventative measures cut off all sensation for him and made him lose all connection he got with his partner from the act. That feeling of closeness had been erased till things just eventually didn’t work out.
It’s left the poor beast with the biggest dry spell known to man. That is until he meets you.
When you first see his cocks you light up. He tries not to get excited but there was no fear in your eyes. Maybe you had more experience with monster cock than he thought and he was all the more grateful for it. Your own ease helped his own, allowing him to relax.
And when you two first started, moving together and grinding as his cocks split open your already dripping swollen folds. Each rock of his hips sending his throbbing tip to smear against your puffy clit. Endless droplets of oozing milky precum dribble from his leaking tip and coat your slit in his eager essence.
When he sees the shock on your face he prepares for the work. Ready for you to tell him to wrap up first or to stop altogether. But it’s him who’s surprised as your expression fades into awe, sweet pretty moans slipping past your lips and making leak even harder.
He doesn’t even try to hold back how eager he is for you, his growls echoing against the walls of his den and his throat glowing with a low blissed out ember. Picking up pace his cocks start to push at your entrance. As you gasp sharply he starts to rear back, about to ask if you’re alright, when you suddenly hook your legs around his waist and push not only one but both of his cocks inside you.
Dragon bf throws his head back with a furious roar, sparks crackling through the air and increasing the tension of the room. You’re so wet and so so tight, he can’t believe how well you’re taking him in. But given how much your sopping pussy is squelching as it sucks in his lengths gives him no room for argument.
Every inch deeper inside your slick silken walls massage every vein along his shafts, delivering a deeper sense of pleasure than he ever knew possible. He lets you set the pace, taking him as hard and fast as you like, using him to give yourself pleasure.
And use him you do. Your hips buck wildly, swallowing up his cocks like you’re starving for it. He meets your every thrust, pounding into the narrow channel of your cunt that shifts with every hard pulse as it molds itself to his shapes. Hugging him so perfectly he could cum already.
But he holds on as best he can when parts of his cock have never felt the sweet warmth of a hole as perfect as yours. More and more precum gushes into your pussy, sloshing around inside you and he merely drives it in deeper, using it to mark your walls as his. Swiveling his hips to hit those spots inside you that have you seeing stars.
He’s filling you so good and you’re suffocating his cocks like the good girl you are, clamping down and holding onto him for dear life every time he hits somewhere reallyyy good. The way he fucks you it’s like he’s memorizing your body, watching closely for every little reaction you give him so he can best please you. Moving his body, his cocks, and his fingers as they rub against your clit to have you singing for him.
And when you cum your vision flashes, the corners darkening before a loud crack rings out and a second later a pleasurable pain blooms on your cheek. Blinking your eyes open you realize he’s lightly slapped your cheek as he grips your jaw and mushes your cheeks together.
Telling you firmly to look at him as he cums inside you and breeds your fat cunt. Letting you know that you’re his now, there’s no leaving or getting away. And that he’s gonna make sure you have to stay.
That’s when you feel a bigger presence begin to push at your entrance and a second later he’s slamming his thick knot inside you’re already overstuffed cunt, stretching you further than you thought was physically possible. It’s as though your body just automatically listens to him as it opens up for him like it was made to. Then he’s coming, rope after rope of scorching hot cum.
You’re not exactly sure how long it takes before he finishes coming but in the meantime he made you cum two more times while he worked you both through the waves of euphoria you couldn’t deny. If anything his words only served to turn you on further.
It’s not a surprise that after all that he ended up succeeding in everything he had said to you. Sure, most people, and even you he images, think him insane for getting you pregnant when you two barely even knew each other.
But after finding such a treasure like you how could he ever risk letting you go now?
Your writing has me absolutely mesmerized and I think you could do something wonderful with this fantasy I cant get out of my head.
Tavern owner's daughter (curvy and maybe a little to flirtatious with their momsterous guests for her own good) is working the bar and attracts the interest of an Orc Warlord and his Lieutenant traveling home with their warband after a great victory. The Lieutenant lures her back to their camp for some proper celebration with the both of them. They obviously aren't gentle with their little prize, but she needs to tested before they breed a new warrior into her.
You're welcome to make this as dark or soft as you want. I just know you will deliver something devastating if you choose to use the idea either way. 🫶
The Orcs' Prize
Trigger Warnings: NSFT, MDNI, non-con, double penetration (vaginal and anal), forced breeding, humiliation, fingering, gagging, choking, cum inflation, size difference, orgasms, body examination, degradation, consensual at the end.
Summary: A flirtatious tavern owner's daughter catches the eye of an Orc Warlord and his Lieutenant. They lure her to their camp, strip her bare, and claim her as their breeding prize.
Thank you so much for the request, monster bestie! Love you loads and hope you enjoy, gorgeous!!!
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿
I knew better.
Papa warned me every single night before he trudged up the stairs to collapse into his bed. "Stop batting your lashes at them, girl. Those tusked bastards don't flirt—they take."
But gods, the way they filled the room. ORCS. Two of them, massive and sweat-slick from the road, their leather armor still crusted with someone else's blood. The Warlord—Azor, I heard his men call him—had thighs thicker than my waist and arms that could snap me like a twig. His Lieutenant, Drogash, stood a head shorter but twice as broad, with a scar splitting his right tusk and eyes like copper.
I swayed my hips when I brought their ale. Made sure my bodice gaped just enough to show the swell of my breasts. The Warlord's nostrils flared. The Lieutenant's tongue traced his bottom lip.
"You serve well, little thing," Azor rumbled. His massive hand closed around my wrist and pulled me closer. "Too well for this dung heap."
I laughed, breathless. "I serve where I'm needed."
Drogash leaned in, his heat washing over me. "You'll serve where we need you tonight."
They left coin—more than I'd seen in a month—and a whispered instruction: The eastern treeline. After last call.
I should have bolted the door and hidden in the cellar.
Instead, I tied my hair back, pulled on my sturdiest boots, and walked into the dark.
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿
Their camp sprawled between three massive oaks, torches sputtering in the damp air. A dozen other orcs lounged around a crackling fire, but when Azor raised his head from his tent, they scattered.
Mine, his eyes said. All of this is mine. And now, you.
I barely had time to draw breath before Drogash materialized behind me, his palm slapping over my mouth.
"You came," Azor said, stepping out of the tent. He'd shed his armor. Gods, he was bigger without it. His chest was broad, dark nipples standing out against olive-green skin, a trail of coarse hair vanishing beneath his belt. "Good. Strip."
I opened my mouth to protest, some flimsy tavern-girl joke about buying me dinner first, but Drogash's other hand was already ripping my bodice down the middle. Buttons scattered into the grass like seeds.
Rrrrip.
"Did I stutter?" Azor folded his arms, watching. His cock was already half-hard, a thick ridge pushing against his leathers. "Clothes. Off. Now."
They worked in tandem. Drogash shredded my skirt while Azor yanked my boots off one by one, tossing them into the darkness. My shift went next, torn over my head so fast the threads burned my ears. I stood there, naked and shivering.
"Look at that," Drogash breathed, stepping back to admire. His copper eyes traced every curve; my wide hips, the soft give of my belly, the way my breasts sat heavy and full without the bodice's support. "Soft. Round. Built for breeding."
Azor circled me like a wolf. He grabbed my chin, tilting my face toward the torchlight. "Good teeth. Good skin. Hair's a rat's nest but it'll do."
"Hey—" I started.
Drogash's thick fingers jammed between my lips before I could finish. Two of them. Calloused. Tasting of leather, salt, and something smokey. They pushed past my teeth, pressing down on my tongue until I chocked around them.
"You speak when we say," Azor said mildly, reaching out to cup my left breast. His palm covered the whole thing, fingers squeezing. My nipple pebbled against his rough skin. "Otherwise? You keep that mouth occupied. Understand?"
I tried to nod. Drogash's fingers slid deeper, nearly touching the back of my throat. Hnnngk.
"Good girl." Azor's thumb found my nipple, rolled it, pinched. A sharp spike of heat shot straight to my pussy. I hated how my thighs pressed together. "Drogash, look at these. Firm. Heavy. Her areolas are the size of my palms."
The Lieutenant leaned over, his free hand coming up to cup my right breast. He squeezed, kneaded, watched the way my flesh spilled between his fingers. "Nipples are dark. Sensitive too—see how she's shuddering?" Squeeze. "I bet she leaks when she's bred. Lots of milk for our sons."
Glllkk— I tried to speak around his fingers, to ask what the fuck they meant, but he just pushed deeper. My eyes watered.
Azor released my breast and dropped to his knees. His massive hands grabbed my thighs and yanked them apart, exposing everything; the dark thatch of hair at my mound, the glisten of my outer lips, the way my clit was already betraying me, peeking out from its hood.
Azor's thumb traced my outer lips, spreading them open. The night air hit my inner flesh and I gasped. "Look at this cunt, Drogash. Pretty and wet already. She's dripping and we haven't even started."
Squelch.
His thumb pushed inside. Just the first knuckle. My hips bucked involuntarily.
"There it is." The Warlord's grin showed teeth. "Eager little thing. You came out here hoping for this, didn't you? Wearing those tits on display, swaying your hips like a bitch in heat?"
"She knew what she was doing," Drogash agreed, pulling his fingers from my mouth with a wet pop. Spit dripped down my chin. He wiped it across my cheek. "She wanted to be caught."
"No—I just— ahhh—"
Azor shoved two fingers into my pussy without warning. My words dissolved into a strangled moan. He was thick, even his fingers, stretching me wide, curling up to press against that spongy spot inside that made my knees wobble.
"Deny it again and I'll gag you with my cock," he said pleasantly, pumping his fingers. Shlick shlick shlick. "Now. Let's see what else you're hiding."
His other hand slid lower, past my perineum, circling my asshole. I stiffened.
"Tight," he observed. "Has anyone been here, little human?"
"N-no—" Squelch. His thumb pressed against the rim, testing. "Please—"
"Please what? Please stop? Or please more?" Drogash had moved behind me, his chest pressing against my back. I felt his cock, fully hard now, digging into the small of my back through his leathers. His hands came around to cup my breasts again, squeezing in time with Azor's thrusts. "Because your cunt says more. Listen to it."
Shlick schlick SHLICK.
Gods, I could hear how wet I was. How embarrassingly wet. My juices coated Azor's hand, dripping down his wrist.
"I'm going to finger your ass now," Azor announced. "And you're going to take it. If you're lucky, you'll cum from just this. If you're not..." He grinned. "Well. We haven't even fucked you yet."
His thumb pressed harder, slicked with my own wetness, and pushed inside.
POP.
The stretch was intense. Not painful but so foreign, so full. I cried out, a high needy sound that Drogash swallowed by turning my head and shoving his tongue down my throat. He tasted of ale.
Azor worked his thumb in knuckle by knuckle, crooking it, spreading me open. At the same time, his other hand kept pumping my cunt, three fingers now, scissoring me wider.
"Look at this," he muttered to Drogash. "Two holes fingered and she's dripping. Imagine what she'll feel like with our cocks."
"Imagine what she'll look like carrying our young," Drogash growled against my mouth. "Belly swollen. Tits heavy with milk. Waddling around our camp while we decide which one of us bred her first."
"Pure heaven." Azor twisted his thumb inside me and I shattered.
The orgasm ripped through me without warning. My pussy clenched around his fingers, my ass squeezed his thumb, and I wailed, loud and shameless, while Drogash bit my lower lip hard enough to draw blood.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I didn't want this. I didn't. But my body didn't care what I wanted. It just took—the pleasure, the stretch, the brutal ownership in their hands.
"There." Azor pulled his fingers out, watching my slick coat his knuckles. He sucked them clean one by one, never breaking eye contact. "Now you're ready."
Azor grabbed my hip and spun me around, lifting me in his arms, my breasts mushed against his chest. Suspended, I caught myself against him just as Drogash's body slammed into my back.
"No—I can't—both of you at once—"
"You can," Drogash said, his voice a low rumble against my ear. "And you will. We need to test your limits before we breed you properly."
I heard the sound of belts hitting the ground. The shush of leather. Then the heavy sound of their cocks springing free.
I looked down and my mind went blank.
Azog's cock was enormous. Thicker than my wrist, veined from base to tip, with a flared head that looked like it could split me in half. His balls hung heavy beneath, sac drawn tight with arousal.
"Don't stare too long," he rasped licking my neck. "You'll scare yourself."
Glancing behind me, I saw Drogash's cock. It was slightly longer, slightly thinner, but curved, hooked upward like a huge claw. He spat into his palm and slicked the length, watching my face.
Azor's hands tightened around my waist, lifting me slightly, positioning me so the head of his cock nudged my pussy. Just a kiss, just a taste. I hugged his shoulders, still sensitive from the orgasm, still clenching and fluttering.
"Breathe," he said.
Then he pushed.
Unnnnf—
I forgot how to breathe. Forgot my own name. There was just pressure, a stretching so intense I saw stars, and the sound of my own moan crawling out of my throat like a dying thing.
"Tight," Azor grunted, feeding more of his shaft into me inch by inch. "Gods, she's tight. Drogash—her ass—"
The Lieutenant didn't wait. He spread my cheeks and spat at my back hole, a thick glob of saliva landing on my pucker. And then his curved cock was there, pushing and pushing.
SQUELCH.
Double penetration. Both of them inside me. I couldn't—there wasn't room—every nerve ending in my body was screaming, overwhelmed.
"Breathe, little human," Drogash said, but his voice strained. "You're strangling my cock."
"Feels like she's trying to break mine off," Azor agreed through gritted teeth. But he kept pushing deeper, deeper, deeper, until he bottomed out. "Fuck. I'm in. All the way."
"Me too." Drogash's curved length scraped against Azor's through the thin wall of flesh between my holes. I could feel everything—every ridge, every vein, every twitch. "She's crying."
Was I? I touched my face and found wetness.
"She's fine." Azor pulled back an inch—just an inch—and slammed forward. SLAP. I sobbed. "She's ours. And she's going to take every fucking inch until we fill her up."
They found a rhythm like they'd done this a hundred times before. Azor pumping into my pussy, Drogash thrusting into my ass, both of them pushing and pulling, using me while I sobbed between them, suspended in the air by their cocks.
Slap slap slap slap.
Schlick schlick schlick.
"Sounds like a fucking swamp," Drogash laughed, his fingers digging into my hips. "Listen to that cunt. Listen to that ass. They're begging for our cum."
I looked down at my belly and gods, I could see them. Two bulges moving under my skin, one from the front, one from the back, pushing my stomach out like I was already pregnant.
"Look at that," Azor growled, noticing my stare. "Look at how we fill you. You were made for this, made to be stuffed with orc cock, made to carry orc young. Your little human body knows it."
"N-no— haaah —I'm not—"
"You are." Drogash's hand snaked around, fingers finding my clit. He rubbed in rough circles, too fast. "And you're already close again. I can feel you clenching."
He was right. That wonderful pressure was building again, deeper this time, spreading from my core to my limbs until even my toes were curling in the air.
"Going to cum," I gasped. "Please—I don't want to—can't stop it—"
"Then don't," Azor said, and bit my shoulder. Hard.
That was it.
I came screaming, my whole body convulsing, my pussy and ass milking their cocks in rhythmic pulses. Azor roared. Drogash hissed through his teeth. And together, they emptied themselves inside me.
I felt Azor's seed first, jet after jet of cum in my core. Then Drogash's, deeper, filling my ass until it dripped down my thighs. They kept pumping, kept thrusting, kept breeding me while I hung there limp and sobbing.
"Mine," Azor breathed against my neck. "Ours. And you're going to swell with our sons before the moon changes."
They pulled out.
Switched.
Azor withdrew from my pussy with a wet schlick, his cock still half and glistening with mixed fluids. Drogash pulled out of my ass, leaving me gaping and empty.
"Let's change," Azor commanded. I was too weak to protest as I was scooped in Drogash waiting arms. Azor moved behind me.
"Wait—not—again—both—"
"We're not done," Azor said, lifting me up by the backs of my thighs. I wrapped my legs around Drogash's waist on instinct. "We breed you again."
Drogash embraced me, kissing me softly ad his curved cock prodded against my soaking cunt. Azor's massive shaft nudged my asshole, still slick with the Lieutenant's cum.
"Ready?" Drogash asked—not me, but Azor.
"Always."
They pushed in together.
I sobbed. Yes, I did. That was me. That was my voice breaking apart.
This angle was still so intense. Drogash's curved length hooked perfectly against my G-spot, while Azor's thickness filled my ass, deeper than before. I could feel both of them through my belly, two columns of flesh, stretching me past any limit I'd ever known.
"Her mouth," Azor grunted, fucking up into my ass with short, brutal thrusts. "Stop her screaming before she brings the whole camp."
Drogash's fingers—three of them this time—shoved past my lips. I gllk'd and hurked around them, my throat working uselessly as he fucked my mouth with his hand in time with his cock.
"That's it," he groaned, watching tears and spit run down my chin. "Choke on it. Choke on us."
Slap slap SLAP.
Squelch squirt squelch.
Every thrust pushed air out of my lungs. Every withdrawal pulled moans from my throat that got muffled around Drogash's knuckles.
"She's crying again," Azor said, licking the tears off my cheek. "Good. Means she feels it."
"I feel it," I managed around Drogash's fingers. "I feel— mmph —both of you—so deep—"
"Deep as we need to be." Azor's hand pressed against my lower belly, feeling his own cock move inside me. "Feel that, Drogash? She's so full she's bulging. Imagine what she'll look like in a few months. Carrying our babe, maybe. Our son fighting for space in that little human womb."
"Or a daughter," Drogash said, pulling his fingers from my mouth—finally—so he could watch my face as he fucked me. "Daughters breed more warriors."
"Either way." Azor's thrusts sped up, losing rhythm, losing control. "Either way, she's ours. We'll keep her, fill her and fill her until her body remembers nothing else."
I was close again. So close. The third orgasm built faster than the others, sharper.
"Come with us," Azor commanded. "Come on our cocks while we paint your holes."
I couldn't stop it. Didn't even try this time.
I came apart with a wail that Drogash swallowed with his mouth, kissing me brutally as my pussy clenched around him and my ass squeezed Azor. They followed right after: Azor's cock pulsed deep in my bowels, and Drogash's shaft twitched and flooded my pussy with another load.
Hot. So hot. So much cum. I could feel it spreading, filling every empty space inside me, leaking out around their cocks. They held me there, impaled and overflowing, as the fire crackled and the night birds went silent.
"Rest," Azor said finally, voice gentle. "You'll need your strength."
"For what?" I whispered.
Drogash grinned. "For the next round, little one. We're not leaving this camp until you're definitely pregnant."
"And after that?" I should have been terrified. Maybe I was. But my body was already stirring again, desiring them despite everything.
"After that," Azor said, pulling out, letting his cum spill down my thighs, "we take you home. Our home."
Drogash drew back too, his cum gushing out. "And then we breed you. Again and again."
Warnings: Smut, Penetration, Knotting, Sex toys, Ruined Orgasm, Creampie
Summary: You come home to find that your extremely attractive Werewolf roommate has found your collection of knotted dildos.
🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤
When you walked into your apartment, you were surprised not to see your roommate sitting on the couch in the living room. It was Sunday night, which was your traditional movie night together. Both of you worked but always ensured you were home by five on Sundays. Since you both had Mondays off, you made Sunday your weekly pizza and movie night, staying up late and enjoying each other’s presence.
Decker and you have lived together for over a year now, and honestly, you love it. The only problem was your small, well maybe not so small, crush on him. You couldn’t help it, though; he is just so amazing. He is the exact opposite of you. You are human, and he is a werewolf. While you are short and chubby, he is massively tall and made of muscle. You are soft and gentle, while he is hard and strong.
You cherish movie nights where he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. You love leaning against his large body and nuzzling into his soft fur. He always manages to brighten your day and make you laugh. He takes care of you and makes you feel love. Unfortunately, he has never expressed any romantic interest in you, so you try to be content with having him as a friend.
It’s already past five, and Decker is usually getting everything set up for movie night by now. You set the pizza you brought home on the counter, thinking he must be running late. You head for your bedroom and decide to take the extra time to put on your cute pajamas.
You certainly had not been expecting to walk in and see Decker kneeling on the floor in front of your closet, your box of vibrators and dildos open in front of him. There are several knotted dildos on the floor beside him, and the largest one is gripped in his clawed hand. Your face heats up immediately, and you accidentally let out a small gasp at the sight.
The noise catches his attention, and his eyes immediately meet your own. You quickly look to the floor in embarrassment at his intense gaze. “Oh, no, pretty girl. Eyes on me. How long have you been hiding this? Hmm?”. You can’t seem to push any words out of your mouth, and you hear him moving because of your lack of response. You stand entirely frozen as he stops before you, using one hand to guide your eyes up to his.
“All these months, you have never shown any interest in monsters. The only male you went on a few dates with, being that loser human, and now I find all this. My adorable little human likes monster cock, well, werewolf cock specifically”, he says with a smirk. You try to pull away, your mortification at an all-time high at his words, but he doesn’t let you budge.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize how much I have been holding myself back, thinking you had no interest in a werewolf like me. From the moment I met you, I wanted you sitting on my knot. I wanted to hold your plush body in my claws and never let you go, but I thought you wanted a human male. I had to keep myself from ripping your clothes off every fucking day”. You let out a needy whimper at his words, and a smirk appeared on his face once again.
“Baby, when you wear those little pajama shorts, and I can see your thick thighs, all I can think about is holding them in my hands as I thrust my cock inside you over and over. And last Sunday, when you wore that cute little nighty for our movie night, I swear I was hard all night. All I wanted to do was bend you over the side of the couch and knot you all night long. Your body looks so fucking breedable, baby, and I just want to fill you every moment of every day” he finishes his last statement with a low growl, and it goes straight to your panties.
You wet your lips and reply, “I.. I have always wanted you, Decker. I just didn’t think you were interested in me, so I never said anything”. He shakes his head and says, “Baby, how could I not want you? Everything about you makes me want to claim you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing, but first, you are going to show me exactly what you do with those toys over there.
You feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought, but it is quickly overpowered by arousal and lust at the thought of him watching you. He gives you a quick pat as you make your way over to the toys and reach for your medium-sized dildo.
“The big one, sweetheart. I must ensure you are nice and stretched out when I take you. I’m a lot bigger than your little toys over there”, he tells you, his voice a low purr. You almost moan at his words, the excitement of being so filled making you crave him even more.
You slowly take off your clothing, wanting to tease him a bit. As your panties hit the floor, you see Decker take a big inhale and moan. You blush under his gaze, and he gives you his signature wolfish grin.
You place the large dildo on the floor, the suction cup base holding it in place. You kneel over it, lining its tip up with your wet entrance. You look at him as you slowly let your weight push you down on the thick dildo. His eyes don’t leave your slick cunt as he moves one of his hands to squeeze his cock over his pants. You felt your mouth salivating at the sight.
You reach halfway down when you rise up again, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down. You continue this until the knot presses against your entrance on each downward stroke. You moan as you watch his eyes bounce all around your body. The dildo feels so good, but his eyes on you feel even better. You release soft whimpers and moans, and you work your body up and down.
“That’s it, baby. Keep riding. Fuck I love the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing that dildo. You look so fucking beautiful, baby. There you go. Go a little faster, baby. I wanna see those perfect tits bounce faster, little one. Fuck princess, I can’t wait to fill you with my cock. I wanna see you take that knot, baby. I wanna see your greedy little pussy stretch around it”, he growls out, lust lacing his voice.
You spread your legs wider and drop your pussy down lower. You move one of your fingers down to your swollen clit and rub tight circles on it. Pleasure slams through your body, and the knot fully pops inside your tight cunt. “Fu-Fuck Decker. I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming”, you cry out.
Just as your cunt clenches down at the beginning of probably the best orgasm of your life, Decker wraps his claws around your arms and pulls you up and off the dildo, the suction cup keeping it secured to the floor. You cry out at the ruined orgasm, your cunt trying to clench around nothing, and your clit pulsing in need of stimulation. Tears spring to your eyes as your thighs clench together, trying to get any stimulation at all. Decker is quick to reach one hand down and separate your legs, stopping any stimulation and ruining your orgasm completely.
You look at him in confusion and a hint of betrayal as tears stream down your face. He licks up the tears from your cheeks before saying, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve decided that the first time we fuck, the only knot you are going to cum on is mine.” With that, he pushes you back to lie on the bed as he starts stripping his clothes.
You stare at every glorious inch of his body that gets exposed. Your need for him increases with each second. As his cock is revealed, you audibly gasp. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bigger than your toys. His cock is so giant that even fully hard, it hangs down towards the floor, too heavy to stand upright. The knot at the base is larger than your fist, and your nipples harden even more at the thought of him forcing it inside you.
“Tell me you want it, princess. I need you to tell me now because once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve thought about this for far too long to be able to hold back once I finally have you,” he says, giving you one last chance to back out.
You spread your legs wide, making sure your dripping pussy is entirely on display, and reply, “Please, Decker. Please, I want this, I need this, I need you. Please fill me. Make me yours”. He is on you before you even finish. He pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, his cock resting over your pussy and your lower belly. He thrusts his cock back and forth but holds back from entering you, just working on covering himself in your slick juices.
“Mmmm, I love how soft your body is, baby. So fucking perfect in every way. Drives me fucking mad”, he growls out. Each brush of his cock rubs your pulsing clit, and all you want is for him to push inside you. You are just about to start begging when he finally lines himself up with your needy hole and pushes in. He only goes about halfway, but you are already crying out at the feeling.
He moans your name and keeps thrusting, moving deeper and deeper with each stroke. He watches your body open up for him, mumbling the word perfect under his breath. On his next thrust, his knot hits your entrance, and he seems to lose all control. He grabs onto your love handles and starts fucking you like an animal.
You cry out in ecstasy at feeling so full, his cock slamming into your g-spot brutally on every thrust. Your hands grip his forearms, needing to hold on and ground yourself as he fucks you like he owns you. “Fuck Decker… you feel so good. Don-don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please”.
He moans at your begging, leaning forward to cover your body with his own. Your knees are pushed up towards your shoulders, and his body keeps you in place, unable to move. You cum with a cry of his name, squirting on his cock from the pleasure.
He doesn’t give you any time to recover as he continues using your puffy pussy. You whimper at the overstimulation that sets in, but you don’t want him to stop. You need to feel him knot you. You need to feel him fill you with his cum.
“Your pussy is fucking heaven, baby. I’m never fucking letting you go. Do you hear me? You’re MINE.” he says as his thrusts speed up. His hips slammed against you and pushed you down into the mattress. You only manage to whimper and moan in response, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks in pleasure.
He pulls back almost entirely before slamming his hips down, pressing his knot against your entrance and keeping it there as he tries to push it in. Your entrance puts up a good fight, and he growls, angry at the denial of entry. You start to question whether or not he will be able to fit his knot inside when he shifts his weight so almost all of it is in his hips, pushing his knot harder against your dripping cunt.
Gravity seems to be on his side as his knot is forced into your tight cunt as he drops down against you completely. You scream out his name at the insane stretch, never having been this filled, his tip kissing your womb. Your arms wrap around his back as your nails dig into his fur. He starts his thrusts again, but this time shallow as his knot stays stuck inside of you. Each stroke causes your body to jiggle beneath him, your nipples rubbing against his hairy chest, sending shocks of pleasure to your aching clit.
He pulls his hips back, and his cock pulls your bottom half off the bed by your swollen cunt, before he drops back down. He groans with the motion and continues repeating it. You cry out each time, your pussy overfilled and overwhelmed with the sensation of him.
He slams you down once more, and your legs begin to shake with pleasure. You scream out his name as your cunt once again clamps down on his massive cock, milking him with everything you have. You feel his cock twitching as he lets out a loud growl followed by swears. His cock begins filling you to the brim with his seed. Your already too-full pussy is being filled even more. Your lower stomach bloats and hardens as he cums and cums and cums, his knot not allowing even a single drop of his seed to drip from your cunt.
You cling to him as you both come down, trying to regulate the air in your lungs. He keeps you pressed to him as he rolls onto his back, draping you over his warm chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s embrace. As your mind starts returning, you sit up slightly to look at him.
“Why were you going through my closet?” you ask him. He gives you a soft smile and answers, “I was setting up for movie night and wanted to get that fuzzy throw blanket you keep on the couch in the winter. It’s a little cold today, so I thought you might enjoy it. I remember you saying you were putting it in the closet, so I went looking for it.”.
You smile at his thoughtfulness and place a loving peck on his snout. “The throw blanket is in the hallway closet for future reference.” He stares at you for a moment before laughing. His chest rises and falls, causing you to shake up and down. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a moan as your pussy shifts on his cock from the movement.
“Well, we probably have another 30 minutes to rest while my knot goes down, and then we can start movie night. Although I think this time I’ll have you seated on my lap with my cock and knot nice and warm in your perfect little cunt”.
You smile approvingly, moving your head back to snuggle into his warm chest. You never thought you would be thankful that your roommate found your knotted dildos.
🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤
Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️❤️
Thunvak decides to gift his human best friend a monster dildo, based on his own cock, as a joke after you tell him to ‘go fuck himself’ one too many times. What happens when he is walking home and he realizes that the witch that made the dildo enchanted it so he can feel everything you do with the dildo?
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Includes Naga Husband, Orc Husband, Werewolf Husband, Minotaur Husband, and Merman Husband
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Orc lover decides to claim you in front of his fellow orcs when he brings you back to his camp to become his wife.
A Knotty Discovery Part 2: Werewolf X Fem Chubby Human Reader
Your werewolf roommate (turned boyfriend) works your ass open on a knotted dildo before filling you in both holes :)
Werewolf Boyfriend NSFW Alphabet: Werewolf X Reader
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Monster best friend has become addicted to watching your videos. He knows it's wrong but he just can't seem to stop. It's only so long before he slips up and gets caught.
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Bewitched Dildo Part 2: Monster Best Friend x Reader
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A Relaxing Bath: Tentacle Monster X Reader
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A Knotty Discovery Part 3: Werewolf X Fem Chubby Human Reader
After months of working up to it, your werewolf boyfriend finally knots your ass.
An Alien Thank You Part 2: Alien X Human Reader
Your Alien visitor works to show you his gratitude using his multiple cocks. How many cocks is too many cocks?
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If I Catch You, You're Mine: Hobgoblin X Reader
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❥ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐒' 𝐉𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐒 — The Ring Stack .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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✿ Sapphire & Diamond Engagement Ring :
The Ring was designed by then-crown jeweler Garrard taking inspiration from the Sapphire and Diamond Brooch Prince Albert commissioned for his wife Queen Victoria in 1840. It features 14 diamonds surrounding a 12-carat oval blue Ceylon Sapphire set in 18-karat white gold.
✿ Wartski Welsh Gold Wedding Band :
Catherine's wedding ring is crafted from a nugget of Welsh gold continuing the custom of using Welsh gold for royal wedding bands since 1923. Handcrafted by royal jewellers Wartski, the rare Welsh Gold used in the making of the ring was finely polished and gently rounded to provide comfort.
✿ Annoushka Eclipse Diamond Eternity Ring :
Catherine was gifted the 'Eclipse' Eternity Band by her loving husband, Prince William following the birth of their eldest son, Prince George in 2013. The Eclipse Diamond Eternity Ring is made in 18-carat white gold and has sparkling 0.23-carat brilliant cut pavé diamonds covering the circumference of the whole ring.
✿ G.Collins & Sons Sapphire and Diamond Set Full Eternity Ring :
Believed to have been a gift from Prince William for their thirteenth wedding anniversary, the ring features alternating round blue sapphires and round brilliant diamonds. Each stone is secured in a refined four-claw platinum setting, creating a seamless circle of colour and light.
✿ Pavé Diamond Eternity band :
The Princess of Wales added a thicker pavé diamond eternity band to her stack in 2024, it is also believed to be a gift from her husband following the end of her chemotherapy treatment. The slim, straight-profile full eternity band features french pavé-set diamonds.
I believe this from The King’s days at university.
His Majesty studied archaeology and anthropology at Trinity College, Cambridge from 1967 to 1970. The King enjoyed university life and took part in several stage productions… of which this was one.
King Charles loves bagpipes. He tried to learn to play the pipes when he was at school but gave up… a decision he later referred to as “foolish”.
King Charles has also revived a tradition started by Queen Victoria. Every morning at 9am, The King is roused by a lone piper who plays outside His Majesty’s window for fifteen minutes.
While I love music, I not think I would appreciate bagpipes being played first thing in the morning… Especially after a night out!
Wedding of HI&RH Archiduchess Elizabeth, daughter of Archduke Simeon and Archduchess María of Austria, to Don Carlos Palacio.
TM the King and Queen of the Belgians, TRH the Duchess of Brabant and Prince Gabriel of Belgium, TSH Prince Nikolaos and Princess Margaretha of Liechtenstein, TRH the Duke and Duchess of Bragança and TI&RH Archduke Georg and Archduchess Eilika of Austria were in attendance.
