A seminarian meets a pack of hellhounds.
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I lowered the bowl, its contents just gone.
"Better?" I asked, gently shoving the bowl away, an arm returning to help rest the man back down.
"Y-yes," he hissed as his back touched the thin mattress, audibly gulping, "thank you…"
"Mhm…" I retraced my hands from his person, his upper body exposed to the warm air inside the large tent. A few candle lamps hung near the roof, their glass shells protecting the delicate fabric from certain incineration.
Besides the man were many others in a situation much like his; wounded. Some were missing limbs, a leg, two, an arm, an ear, an eye or a collection of the aforementioned. Some looked perfectly fine, but much like the leviathans of old, not all danger can be seen from the surface.
The one I helped had fallen on the luckier side of the river, but he still got wet. I grabbed the blanket above his stomach, carefully covering the heaving man up to his collarbone, concealing the bandaged chest. I sighed, staring off into nothing of importance; a small rock on the ground. He was the last one, there was nothing more I could do to help. Prayers were given, crude painkillers administered, stomachs well-fed. What time was it? Pulling out a prestigious pocket watch found some weeks ago, the hour hand was close to the eleventh. Excellent, he was still awake.
As quietly as I could, I erected myself to full height, silently wishing the knight a dreamless rest, the last thing he needed were nightmares. Pushing aside the tent's entrance, I slipped out, making sure to tie the ropes of each flap in the shape of a butterfly; easy to make, easier to break. Dusting off my robes, I let my eyes adjust to the minor change in illumination before proceeding.
Indeed, there were countless torches strewn about the temporary outpost, but what was the harm in more light? The more, the merrier! Especially with the… things that hide.
A guard passed by, giving me a nod. I acknowledged him the same way, though my attention remained captivated by one of the Maker's greatest creations; the moon. Oh, Lord, how could you make such a damnable world and with such an elegant star? Well, not a star, but who cared? I wasn't a man of science.
Growing more tired the more I stayed put, I averted my eyes back to the earth, squinting in search of a specific tent. Being higher and cleaner than the rest, it didn't take me long to spot it. A minute later, I arrived at his flapstep, was that a word? Tents didn't have doors. Ah, forget it.
Clearing my throat, straightening my robes and adjusting the sleeves, I spoke, "Father! May I enter?" A short silence followed, a quiet tap coming from within.
"You may," he answered, so I did.
Unlike the medical tent and even my own, his was the spitting image of perfection; dustless ground, air as fresh as the outside, candles strategically placed in a such an ingenious manner no shadow could sink its disgusting claws into divine skin, sophisticated organization of belongings and works that were brave enough to rival Aleksanderia's library, the original one. In short, it was magnificent, an inspiration to become, a standard to follow, a Father in more than one sense.
"Good evening, Father," I bowed, holding my hands behind my back.
"Good evening, what is it you need me for, my child?" He put aside the forging letter, granting me the privilege of entertaining his holiness.
"Nothing of concern, I assure you. I simply wanted to report my progress today."
He hummed, followed by a downwards nod, "Go on."
With a deep breath, I recalled, "After we liberated that village, many of the newer recruits were injured in the fighting. That you must know. Once I was done with the orders you gave me, I took the liberty of providing them medical care… to the best of my abilities."
His eyebrows raised, if just a little, they did. "Well, they must be alright then? What of the doctors, were they inadequate?"
"No, yes, it's… complicated," I sighed, my eyes falling down, "the doctors were occupied with something else, or so I heard, don't take my ignorant word for it. As for the wounded, most survived, thank the Lord."
"Most?" Although his face remained neutral, his tone grew somber, knowing, near disappointed, but not quite.
"Yes… I did what I could, but…" a heavy exhale, with it carrying part of the infectious guilt, "it wasn't enough. Out of twenty, four didn't… they passed…"
"That's a shame. The general said he had high hopes for this batch. Ah, I see, you needed my consolation?" The Father got up from his chair, the clean, white robes somehow stainless. No, not "somehow", by the will of the Maker. He was a man of Him, a devout follower of the absolute, the truth, the one truth to triumph in the face of evil.
I shamefully nodded, my arms resting at my sides, "Mhm…"
"It's not your fault," he put a hand on my shoulder, slowly dragging my attention to shore like a hooked, exhausted fish, "I know you did your best, you always do." He offered a smile, though his eyes told a different story.
"Yeah, but… maybe there was something… more I could've…?"
"Maybe," that hurt, "maybe not," that softened the blow. "I am displeased you went out of your way without informing me first, but you did finish your duties, and some men get to breathe another day thanks to you."
A sense of pride eased the pain, I was getting better at it, too. Knowledge is power, and with the help of the Maker, there was nothing to fear.
"Ah, but please, and I really mean it, tell me before you do something out of line, even if it's for a righteous cause. We are in uncertain lands, the light of the sun doesn't shine as it does in the capital. I don't need to… lose…"
"It's okay, you don't have to, Father. I understand. I won't do this again," I gently removed his hand from my shoulder, his warmer than mine. "Thank you, Father, for your words of wisdom. I'll go sleep now, alright?"
"Al… alright," he stepped back to his desk, his eyes avoiding mine, "you may go now. I have lots of work left to do."
I turned away, starting towards the one and only exit. Just before I left, I wished him, "Good night, Father." He wished the same for me, and our conversation ended. Exiting the tent, I let out a breath of relief, guilty remnants washing away on the same shores. I wasn't kidding, not a drop, and I shall stand by it no matter what happens.
Starting towards my final destination for the day, I gradually relaxed my perfect posture, healthy, natural sloth sitting down in its designated chair. God, I needed a shower. After a short while of passive trudging, I found myself back in my own, private tent; not too far from the Father's but close enough to all other facilities in the camp.
Once away from the outside, I shut the flaps tight, allowing the present warmth inside to increase tenfold. If there was, there was no need for a heavy blanket as comfortable as one is. I much rather use a thin one, my body needs to breathe too.
Removing my robe, I contemplated hanging it before scolding myself for such basic mannerisms. Instead, I folded it neatly, artistically, like I'd been taught by the nuns. In the end, it was gorgeous, symmetrical, compact and pleasant to the eye. Putting that aside, I stripped myself naked before moving to the wooden tub in the corner, plenty of water from the river patiently awaiting the cleansing. Scrub, wash, brush, splash, all sorts of sounds were the results of my actions, reminding me of a gentle waterfall about yee high. In addition, the herbal plants gathered by a scouting party were just wonderful; reminiscent of mint with the freshness of a ripe lime.
As much as I enjoyed the bath, I mustn't waste one of the most, if not the most, precious resources bestowed upon us. Once I was done, I stepped out of the tub and onto a wool slab, countless drops dripping off and hitting the ground. Alone, they could do nothing, but together they had the power of a shot.
A while passed, the cold became so bearable thanks to the cloth igloo. Once my feet were dry enough, I slipped them into a pair of wooden shoes, toes and heels exposed for better circulation. They were a funny thing, their makers from a place somewhere northern, Flanderia? I suppose. Pronunciations were difficult with the pale folk.
I stood there, basking in the comfort of my home away from home. Well, it wasn't right to say that, it wasn't as it seemed. Nevertheless, only my hair remained wet, so I took the liberty of continuing my nightly rituals.
My hunger was satiated till the morrow, but my thirst was a vast ocean apart. In a different flask, tall and narrow, was drinkable water. The river was clean, although unless purified, consumption was ill advised. Popping open the cork with a twist, I gulped down a few mouthfuls, sighing in satisfaction. Lukewarm, but pure, like I. Ah, bad boy, don't be too prideful, that is a common sin. I was good, but I could be better. The road was smooth, but there was a long way to go.
Shoving the cork back into the neck of the bottle, I placed it aside, plopping down on my bedroll. The base was unlike a regular one; thick and fluffy, wool was truly a wonder material. The pillow on the other hand was of feathers. There was only one task left to complete before I deserved rest; brushing my teeth.
Rummaging through a sack three feet away from my bed, I brought out the appropriate tools; a toothbrush and paste, all natural. Squeezing a blob onto the exposed part of the special twig, I vigorously smote away any grim and moisty filth scheming to rot my flawless cavity. Behind, around, between, no spot was safe from the assault of the plant all animals feared; mint. So simple, so effective.
Removing the brush from my mouth, I sipped from the air a bit of water, sloshed it around real good, scooted to a bucket well away from the hygienic sector, spat the contents out, and returned to my bed. Shuffling into the bag, I relaxed my muscles with a sigh, feeling instant relief in my spine from the weight of life. Now, it was time to rest.
"Oops," I whispered, squeezing an arm out of the bag. Groaning with effort, I grabbed the sole candle that clung to the living world, bringing it close to my soft lips. A short inhale, I blew, snuffing out the light with a long exhale. I then returned the tool to its original place as well as my arm. Staring up at nothing, I closed my eyes for the night, a silent prayer before rejoining fantasy.
However, my time in the cosmic dunes was cut short by a blood-curdling scream.
Gasping awake, I blinked the drowsiness out of my eyes, panic cancerously growing within the confines of my skull. For a second I pondered, "Was that a dream?" only to be disproven by dozens of gunshots, muskets if my memory stayed loyal to me. My heart raced faster than any horse, the ones high on illegal substances in the gambling tracks, poor creatures.
Shuffling as quickly as physically possible out of the bag, I rushed to equip my robe, can't run around in nothing but my undergarments. I had subconsciously slipped into my wooden shoes, so that was that.
Breaking through the closed flaps, I scanned my surroundings only to gasp in shock. On the other side of the camp, a beastly fire raged high into the sky, higher than the watchtowers. That could only mean one thing.
"No guns…" I swallowed, another scream coming from my far left. Snapping my head towards the horrid sound, a terrible sight was engraved into my mind; a man ran out of a tent which was soon ablaze, crying to the heavens in nothing but primal suffering. Why? Oh, nothing, just that from head to toe he was fire. His flesh fell with every step, yet his every step carried him further and further away, spreading fire onto anything he collided with.
Once he was out of my line of sight, I hunched over and nearly threw up, sharp tears blurring my eyes. Another round of shots rang out into the not-so starry night sky, light pollution breaking the natural beauty. Even though I was shortly out of commission, my ears caught an invidiously familiar sound; the scream of another man, but this one wasn't of pain. No, it was rage. Anger. Fury. Barbaric.
My eyes snapped open, my knees bending so my legs sent me away like a spring, landing roughly on the gravel. In my place was an axe embedded deep into the soil.
"Savages…" I muttered, the attacker pulling a few times at the handle, the metal lodged deep into the hard, cold dirt. If I hadn't been quick enough, I… I…
The man growled, his skin unwashed and hair overgrown into a disgusting mohawk. "SAVAGE!" I spat, swiftly getting back on my feet, my perfect robes now stained with ash. At last, the barbarian pulled out his weapon of execution, strengthening his grip with both hands, a demented grin stretching his lips. Had they been cracked, blood would've seeped out of them, befitting such a blasphemous individual.
For a moment, he watched me, saying nothing. Then, a sadistic grin further stretched his ugly mug. Something was spoken in a foreign tongue, a dialect that was a distant, ridiculed cousin of the shoemakers. In the blink of the eye, his axe was raised high above, even higher on bloodlust.
So, I did the only thing I could; I ran. Rolling into the dirt ungracefully, I swiftly jumped to my feet and let adrenaline carry its course. I was so focused on escaping the madman I'd failed to notice the countless guards still fighting the savages, though neither side was looking too good. Without a weapon, I served no use. It wasn't my job to raise my hand and befall the enemy. This was one of those times I regretted choosing the church.
A raging fire surrounded what had to be the main entry point of the attacker, around ten bodies of the opposing sides mangled and decapitated, some charred black yet raw as rot. I dared a glance back, my heart sank. The barbarian hadn't given up. I'd made good distance being lightweight, but it mattered little to the hunter; Man was a persistent one. Snapping my attention to the fire, I clenched my jaw, the flames rising as high as my chest. Like the tides of the sea, they rose and fell, puppeteered by the ever-changing wind. The illusion of a choice was a comforting lie, but to be mutilated, worse, captured by a savage tribe would be…
I sighed, caressing the luxurious robe up and down. A gift from the Father, more symbolism than material wealth. The latter never felt as so, the Maker and all. Still, I couldn't help but feel sorry, I really liked the piece.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped away before rushing forth, shielding my face with my arms as I jumped into the air. The second my skin was licked by the flames, I screamed. Although I was on the other side a second later, or two, the pain was like no other. The areas impacted by the fiery light were an irritated vermillion, the urge to touch and scratch them suppressed by knowledge of the consequences.
Swallowing loudly, I let out the breath I withheld, gasping for air. Looking back, I spotted the madman standing on the other side, the temperature distorting the image. Yet, through it all I saw. He stood there, watching, gazing, hungering. His grin turned into a frown, but his eyes; unblinking, unyielding. Whatever his reason, he wasn't going to let me off the hook that easily. One moment, he was there. I blinked. The next, he was gone.
"Other entry points," I thought, getting up on my feet with a groan, hissing in ebbing pain. It was manageable, and that's all that mattered.
Breaking into a light jog, I traveled in a straight line, as straight as can be, away from the campsite. They didn't have the time to chop down enough trees to clear out a decent safe zone, an advantage the natives had over us. A minute later, the ignited seas felt like another star, bigger than most, but smaller than the moon. When I turned my head back, I stepped to the side, nearly hitting a tree face-first. Pursing my lips, I scolded myself for nearly making a fool out of myself. Even if no one would've seen that, the Maker did, does, and will.
I mustn't doubt now, it was the worst time for such insecurities. I didn't know where I was going or what I was going to do, but I couldn't have stayed there!
"Yeah, don't think about it, just keep moving," I told myself, ignoring too much for my own good. Ironically, the closest town was the one we were supposed to liberate, the village was three days away. They had something to do with this, didn't they? "Damn them, bastards."
A sharp prick shot from my leg, making me jump in the air on one leg. Looking down, my shoulders fell. One foot still had a wooden foundation protecting the sensitive bottom, the other didn't. I prayed I wouldn't get anything nasty from that, the next step being painless massaged my worries.
A cold gust mocked my skin, the countless thin, short hairs across my body standing on end. A shiver went up my spine, my teeth clattering like dice in a cup. This is bad, really bad.
"Just keep walking… just keep walking…" I repeated in my head, humming a tune alongside the denial. The base was compromised, everyone's status was unknown, and I was totally, utterly, unquestionable screwed-
Snap!
My head locked onto the sound, my entire body freezing in place. Through the darkness, I saw nothing. Even with the moon shining a little more than half its full capacity, my eyes hadn't adjusted more than they had. I did not imagine that. There was something there, watching me. I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. After a long string of moments relaxing and flexing my jaw, the crunching and dispersing of dead leaves warned me of what was to come. What a fool I was to be so slow.
Just as I prepared to evade, an object hit the side of my head, sending me flying several feet before landing on the ground in a roll, ending with a spinning of a tunnel; the trees being the walls, and the starlight in the center. Again, the linguistic barrier softened whatever terrible curses the madman malevolently bestowed upon thyself. Ah, thy, what a funny word, the old lexicon is so silly.
A hand grabbed the back of my head, jerking back to expose my neck to the fullest. Another line of words followed by a laugh, an edge pressed into the jugular, the beat of my heart booming in my ears. Ah, shame, I didn't even get to think about it, not a prayer, or a goodbye.
A silhouette cleared, but the face remained anonymous. I glossed over it, saying naught. This is it. Though, I worry not. Even if I end, the Maker shall judge the wicked when their time comes. I wonder if there's mead in heaven. I shut my eyes, the blade swiftly cutting across.
Only it didn't, for the madman let me go after a long, distant howl echoed into the night. To me, it was a distant itch, but to him it had to be much more intense. Rapid footfall barely registered, and once again I was left to fend for myself. However, in my dazed state even a child could finish what the barbarian had started.
"Agh," I whimpered, ordering my body to get up. It didn't, of bloody course. The scenery no longer spun, but it hurt to open my eyes and focus, hence I kept them shut for the time.
Gulping, I tested my left arm. Flexing the muscles, clenching a fist, I reached out to the side of my head, instantly sensing a sting at the area of impact. When I withdrew my hand, I felt a sticky substance on my fingers smelling of rust.
"Hmm… mmm… nooo…" I cried, my eyelids heavy and rebellious. I was so frustrated at myself, being so helpless and vulnerable without the option to try. Another howl, closer, fierce. As depressing as it sounded, why hadn't the madman struck? Perhaps this was a fate worse than death.
Coughing once, I propped up my left elbow, but failed to separate my back from the dexterous hands of the ground. My head fell to the side, the darkness so unknown. A crunch came from the other side, but my neck still refused to cooperate, a demented mix of exhaustion and anguish too potent for my simple self. Another crunch, another group of leaves annihilated. Many more followed, slow, deliberate, curious, unlike a hungry predator, or a housecat playing with prey? I didn't know, nor did I bother with life at that point.
Alas, the thing stopped beside me, the corner of my eye as useless as the rest. A hand touched my head, where I'd received the hit. A growl, claws passing through my hair. Then, the hand left me, a deep inhale accompanied by an angrier growl and what had to be a hallucination; a whine.
"Hnngg… no…" I sighed, attempting to roll away from the monster toying with me. I don't use language of none, for the creature didn't allow me to distance myself. It grabbed my neck, but not in a harmful manner. It almost felt like, like…
I snickered, turning my head a little here and there, a pathetic act of defiance. As if it knew mannerisms, or mercy. A blackness, a touch lighter than the true one, took up most of my view. A pair of red, blaring dots versus my natural ones.
The thing simply stared, the hand never letting go. Even after I stopped moving altogether, it just looked. Speechless, voiceless, anything would've been comforting, even an insult before a swift cut. But no, the Lord had a mysterious way, and his way was always the right one.
For a while, things stayed that way. The creature lurking in place, its eyes rarely blinking, at least that affirmed it wasn't an abnormality, or so I convinced myself. That was until it dragged down its hand to my chest and yanked, though my wear didn't tear. A snap, or a pop, and in its hand hung two ends of a chain, a cross swiveling to and back, the momentum lessening with each twist.
"Hm… give… back…" My throat was dry, the saliva in my mouth an insufficient aid to my voice. If I had to go, so be it, but let me keep my dignity intact, or honor, it differed with one's beliefs. Instead of listening, as expected, it brought the cross closer to its face, a bulky muzzle, and sniffed. Starting, they were quick and hazardous, extracting as much scent as possible from the piece, but as it calmed the inhales became shorter yet stronger. Whatever it had found with the necklace fascinated, even entranced, the creature, the thumping of a tail behind it swiping across the forest floor like a broom. That would've been a great opportunity to get away had I had the means to do so.
Then, it stopped. The chain slipped out of its hand, and the focus shifted back onto me. I cursed the thing in my mind, desecrating a personal, holy relic. Not for its worth, but its worth to me. Opening both hands, it sent them towards me, landing upon my shoulders. Claws digging into my robe, I didn't miss a blink, staring certain death in the eye.
However, certain no longer meant truth. It shot up to its full height, lifting me into the air as well. Before I had the chance to make a sound, it brought me to its chest, wrapping those powerful, furry arms- wait, furry? That's right. It had a tail, a pair of pointed ears, bent legs, and a coat of fur all over. I was never much of a science enjoyer, but using a touch of logic, it had to be a dog of sorts, right? Especially with the weird, wet smell down below. It made little sense- oh, now I see. This was all an imagination. A soldier talked about it once, called it blood loss. There was no way a creature like that existed, that it had taken me and ran at a speed that would break my neck had it not hugged me. There was simply no way the Maker would allow such things to exist in his sacred world. There was no way. None. None…
I sighed into the fur, finally losing the conscious battle and moving on from this life.
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This couldn't be it. This couldn't be it. It was impossible. There was no light. Not even fire, a fire. Nothing. Nothing but nothing. In a sense, nothing is also something, like absolute zero. True nothing is blank. Descriptionless. Is that even a word? What is happening?
Wait, I can feel something. A tickle. Softness. Warmth. My chest rose and fell, air invaded and abandoned my lungs. My nerves worked. My head didn't hurt as much. The only explanation would be that my time hasn't come yet, therefore…
With a groan, I awakened, the lids fluttering open like a princess' in a fairy tale. A dim, bronze light painted every unseen surface, the stone ceiling- was I seeing right? I blinked multiple times, moaning in exhaustion, though it didn't feel like it. Indeed, there was a ceiling, a cavern one. I raised my head from the soft surface, a single, loud gasp halting all activity in the scene.
A cave, a large one at that, its exit far, far away from the heart. Several points of light, campfires, the smoke leaving through holes in the roof. Jagged edges, dripstones, crystals of navy and burgundy an additional light source. Those didn't bother me, a beauty, yes, but nothing of worth. No, that belonged to the residents. Blobs of black, brown, and gray, tall human figures, only they weren't. A mere imitation of the real thing, fabricated by a necromancer, no doubt. Who else could make such terrible creature-
I gasped again, though not voluntarily. A wet joy occupied my nether regions, and averting my focus to the welcome annoyance sent a disgusting taste to the entirety of my tongue. My sacred person had been stripped naked, leaving me defenseless against these monsters. And how many there were! Dozens! Thirty, minimum! This one in particular, the biggest out of all of them, the sole dressed with a white coat of fur, was bobbing its head up and down my now erect manhood.
Or should I say; she. Many she. The body resembled that of a human, but the claws, the tails, the canid heads, the breasts, multiple and decreasing from top to bottom, dripping slit aimed above my head- "A-ah- hm?"
It sat down, blinding as well as trapping my lips in an awkward kiss with its own, also an her! From what I could see, they were all female! All of them! What in God was happening?! Was this Helheim?!
"HMM! HMMM!!" I went to throw off the monster, but my arms were held down, receiving a tongue bath by two more of the damned… What were they? Dogs for sure, but the fur, the figure, the eyes, what could it be? Was this a nightmare? I couldn't focus. How did it get to this? Moreso, how?!
My internal ramblings were put on hold when my brain was made aware of a small issue; I wasn't getting any new air. The urge to breathe became overwhelming in a matter of seconds, but the, dare I say, womanhood pressing against my virgin lips was a fetal position to be in. To open my mouth and accept a kiss as well as stick my tongue out to push back the fur for a little bit more air would be a sin of the highest caliber!
Admittedly, shamefully, my need to live was greater, hence I did just that. The monster howled in response, cooing in joy at my compliance to pleasure her. In regard to my restrained limbs, my smooth legs were receiving the same treatment as my arms, though albeit more vigorously. "MMMM!" While the albino worked on my shaft, using that broad tongue of hers to butter me up like a stick of corn dog, swirling around every part of my sensitive skin, squeezing the tip with the back of her throat every time she went all the way down. My pubic hair tickled her snout, a hundred times more potent than a nose, taking deep inhales of my natural smell. I was enjoying this.
No! I mustn't! It is sin! All these females, watching, entrapping, awaiting their turn to exploit my sacred, delicate body-
"MHMMM!" Involuntarily bucking my hips, a jet of a clear, sticky liquid came out of the… hellhound! Yes! I read about them! Created by the false gods to guard something, no matter! That was the only logical explanation, the shadow of humanity yet the undeniable beastial core. It was a test, by God! The Maker made an exam for me to pass, to prove my faith! Therefore, I mustn't ejaculate inside her mouth as she goes faster and faster on my cock threatening to swallow my testicles twitching inside her mouth about to EXPLODE-!
Only to release me at the last second, my member moving to the beat of my heart, silently begging for the sweet release. When was the last time I touched myself? Twelve? Thirteen? Surely before I started training. And all of that was about to collapse all because of… her.
Finally, the facesitter crawled away from me, allowing me to breathe that incredible, yet dank, air. Sweat covered my whole body, the hotness of it all subsiding the discomfort I had endured. It was over, at last. Thank the Lord, I needed to rest from that.
I would have loved to believe that. No, no. Things can never be so easy. My body had been abandoned by the numerous hellhounds but one; the albino, who I rationalized was the alpha, the leader, the top dog, the bad bitch.
As I huffed and puffed, she crawled over me, my view changing from the peaceful ceiling to two gigantic mounds of white, pink nipples peaking out, perked in excitement. Had I not been practically kissing them, I wouldn't have noticed. Averting my eyes above, her head was well above mine, if we were standing and she held me like a toddler, her head would comfortably rest upon my head. So, what she'd done was perfectly position herself so that my face was on par with her cleavage and my cock was pressing into her lower lips-
Gasping, I shook my head, rejecting her forced advances. She tilted her head, barking once, that hurt my ears. Before I had the time to react, she dropped her weight, trapping my head between her valley of surprisingly fluffy fur. As well as my cock deep inside her.
It didn't register in the beginning. It was a pressure, all around squeezing me. The tip kissed a wall of flesh, a warm liquid dripping down and out of her, staining the region between my ass and balls. It hurt. It was too much for me, as if my penis was inside a bear trap but without actually causing physical harm. At least the chest fluff was nice, a sweet smell hit my nose soon after, something akin to fruits and roses.
What was I thinking?! This is evil! Terrible! Why wasn't I fighting back tooth and nail?! No, no, it can't be. It has to be corruption! Yes! I can't be willingly giving myself over to a dozen female monsters that desire to violate and breed me. It has to be their magic!
The albino whined, squeezing her breasts around my head, subduing any sounds created by my vocal cords. Down below was where most of the action was happening; her legs pinned my legs against each other, her cunt slowly rising higher and higher. Her end craved my head, and vice versa. So, she gave them what they wanted, needed, deserved; an assertive kiss.
Dropping back down after reaching the middle point, a series of howls encouraged her, congratulating her for finally marking me. My eyes shut by themselves, my mind swimming in nothing but pleasure. Her arms supported her weight above me, quiet panting hinting at her own state. Her hips rose again, and dropped again. Up. Down. Up. Down. Her entire body squeezed me harder, closer, hotter. My arms pinned against my sides, she shifted her weight to the side, grabbing her right breast and angling the nipple into my mouth.
Fortunately, I moaned when she lowered her hips via gravity, so her milk dispenser easily slipped into my mouth. With the new addition of the experience, my tummy felt really funny, the veins in my cock being pumped by more blood than before. My tongue passed over her nipple, teasing her beautiful teat, politely requesting sustenance.
And my wish was granted. A steady, viscous stream of white entered my mouth, the soft, fluffy flesh relaxing my mind furthermore. So easily, so easily was I persuaded without a word to submit to the monstrous creatures, to consume their milk and penetrate their holes. Her hips were a blur, my cock numb from pleasure and irritated from friction, however minimal it was. Countless howls and whines echoed around the cave, absolute chaos in the heart of an unholy union of Man and Beast. The airtight lock my mouth had generated weakened, allowing milk to escape and dribble down my face. My eyes had rolled into the back of my head, her powerful abdominal muscles combined with the smaller tits pressing against my own torso.
A forgotten release encroached. I was a pathetic sight; reduced to a manwhore by the endearing, dominating touch of a female monster. My faith? My devotion? My honor? All crippled under the gaze of my id. The deepest, darkest part of my mind submitted to her the moment I kissed her womb, so it was only logical the rest would follow, however stubbornly, though that wasn't the case.
Ah, it was getting really good now. My legs kicked beneath her, not to escape, but to combat the overwhelming incoming euphoria . Her tit was taken away from me, her cleavage far enough from my face to allow my sounds to register in the rest of the pack's ears. Long, high pitched moans became the sole breaker of silence as my cock twitched for the second time, her ribbed walls contracting harder than ever before. My tip enlarged, pushing hard into her baby oven before a jet of hot, virgin ejaculation shot inside her. Pulsing, crying, howling, all sorts of things happened in that moment. Spurts of my essence filled her up, and with the way she humped me harder and harder with each rope of semen, impregnation was a guarantee. She hugged me closer than ever, her eyes shut in bliss as the last of my cum became one with the pool now inside her womb.
Then, the unthinkable happened; she released me, all of me. Lifting herself up to her legs, a new kind of cold stabbing me. I reached out to her, but my arms barely moved, though I didn't doubt my eyes told her all I wanted her to know. To my relief, she smiled at me, rubbing her belly in circles before stepping back. I was a tad confused, but that was replaced with another revelation. Another hellhound, possibly the same one that brought me here, entered my view, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, saliva dripping onto the floor. Before I processed the present, she'd mounted me, pumping my softening member back to full-mast.
It wasn't the end. In fact, it wasn't anywhere near that. If my theory was true, I had a very long night ahead of me. And if that was true, I was going to have a very, very sore morning the day after.
God, I know you may have abandoned me, but please… have mercy.