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It had been several hours since the caravan had come to a stop in a clearing just off the forest road, a jumble of carts, horses, and people arranged in a haphazard circle around a central fire. Within the circle a whole smorgasbord of different races were present, relaxing and shooting the shit after a long day's journey. Disappointment over not reaching their destination was tempered by the relative safety of their camp, and knowledge of an easy ride ahead of them the next day.

Of course woods tend not to be uninhabited, this collection of trees certainly not bucking that trend. Sure the crowd and few guards that were posted would be more than sufficient to drive off a lone predator, or rouse the camp against a larger threat, but that’s not the only sort of animal that resides in these woods. Right now one of them watches carefully through crystal-blue eyes, making excellent use of the foliage to hide his light pink coat from prying eyes; he knows these trees inside and out, after all.

Those eyes belong to a unicorn; Gwynfallin is his name, and these woods are his domain. Not that he would usually bother himself with such an encampment, as few were foolish enough to venture too deeply into the ever more foreboding trees. It was quite the coincidence that he had even come across this particular group, their camp being on the far reaches of a wide domain, but fortune was smiling on the unicorn this night.

Having gotten a good look in it's clear to Gwyn that these people pose no threat. Satisfied to that he turns to leave, pausing when a sight catches his eye that will change his plans for the night. From within the circle of wagons a centaur has emerged; one of the mercenaries hired to protect the caravan, clearly evident even though their dusty armour has been removed. Relaxed this centaur may be, but he still has a sword sheathed at his waist, and the rippling muscles across his torso suggest an ability to hold his own even without that. A few scars, visible to one with the unicorn's sharp eyesight, complete the look.

While he is clearly not looking for a fight - and the centaur is most certainly a he, as the unicorn can’t miss the clear evidence of that either - the taur’s path is taking him almost directly towards the hidden unicorn. With how well hidden Gwyn is there's no chance that the unicorn was spotted; it's just a happy coincidence for the unicorn, lips curling upward in a slight smile as he takes the opportunity to admire the centaur's body and let various *fun* thoughts cross his mind.

Thoughts involving the unicorn stallion’s own equine equipment and that still unseen centauric ass, the mental image alone causing a heightening aroma of breeding horse to fill the air. Smirk firmly plastered across his face Gwyn has the beginnings of a plan formulating in his mind and he takes a step back into the foliage. Managing somehow to seemingly melt into the underbrush, just the occasional little splash of his pink coat visible between the leaves and the twigs as the magical equine stalks towards his tauric cousin.

By the time the centaur stops he is quite deep into the woods, the occasional backward glances suggesting he wants to be well out of sight of the camp. Satisfied to that he casts a quick glance around the little clearing to ensure no-one was watching, as best that his senses can make out. Of course the unicorn was still there but this centaur - Fionn is his name - could hardly be expected to espy them, hidden as they are. And so, oblivious to those crystal-blue eyes watching, the centaur lets out a sigh, body relaxing as his equine shaft slips from its home to disgorge a stream of warm piss to the leaf-covered floor.

“Hiding from the two-legs?” The first word had barely left Gwyn’s mouth before the centaur starts, leaping a few inches off the floor in his shock. Hardly unexpected with how close the unicorn had managed to approach, Fionn’s eyes having been focused upward and attention distant as he relieved himself. Not that the golden stream stopped as the centaur moved, managing instead to splash his belly and forelegs with the stuff. Much to his immediate embarrassment, though it is a fleeting thought that passes in favour of

“Who the fu- who are you?” Decorum that was lost gets swiftly restored, at least in part, though the red flush on Fionn’s cheeks is going to take a little while longer to resolve. Credit to him though as he manages to staunch the flow of centaur piss, though actually getting his cock to retract back up into its sheath is still a little beyond him. Hard to divert too much thought power to that when a pink unicorn has just appeared as if by magic right him. Which as far as the centaur was concerned, they had, though at least now that he's done his acrobatic(ish) spin he's facing towards the magical equine rather than away.

"Seeing as these are my woods, I should be asking you that question." Gwyn's voice is low, a rumble to the tone that would be more at place coming from a large dragon than an equine. Delivered not with great volume but still oozing confidence, or perhaps more accurately cockiness. "Your... In that case, you have my apologies, your royal highness." Fionn's response has none of the weight of the unicorn's, preferring instead to dial up the snark. Perhaps not the greatest of ideas as the unicorn's eyes narrow.

"You trespass in my woods, and cannot even manage a basic level of dignity." Gwyn moves again, the unicorn starting his stalking motion again as he moves to round the centaur once more. Movement which Fionn reciprocates by turning himself on the spot, suddenly cognizant of little things like his dick swinging beneath him, or his hooves crunching leaves far louder than the unicorn's own. "Oh yeah? What're you gonna do, make my hair a silly shade of pink like your- Hey!"

A truly devastating insult from the ever quick-witted centaur, cruelly cut short as *something* grips hold of his leg. It's cool to the touch, unlike anything that Fionn could readily describe; no discernible fingers, talons, claws, anything that might comprise a regular grasping appendage. Unbeknownst to the centaur Gwyn had tapped into his magic, horn glowing with a faint ethereal light as the unicorn animates one of the many roots criss-crossing the floor to wrap round the centaur's right hind leg just above the hoof.

"Perhaps you should mind your tone, lest I keep your jaw from moving like your leg. Now stay still while I decide your punishment." Gwyn's words carry the same undercurrent of threat as before, giving the centaur a few seconds to make another poor decision. Which of course Fionn does, electing to completely ignore the instruction and instead try in vain to lift his trapped leg, then to scrape off whatever is holding him with the opposite hoof. To little effect other than to give him a bruise. "Not funny, you let me go right now or..."

Gwyn certainly does find amusement in these words from the centaur, a little chuckle rippling from his throat as he takes a step closer. "Or what, centaur? Are you going to call for help, a big stallion like you? I think not." His horn glows a little more brightly, enough now that Fionn can't fail to notice it and deduce that there is at least *something* magical at play here. "Even if you were to try, which we both know you won't, your companions could not hope to hear you from here."

Several more roots started to move as Gwyn's horn glowed more, each wrapping itself round one of the centaur's as-yet unrestrained legs. Tight enough to hold the taur in place but not enough to be painful. Unless Fionn tried to struggle overmuch that is, and for a few seconds more that is exactly what the centaur tries to do. Using his weight as best he can to strain against the bonds holding him fast, serving only to amuse the unicorn further.

“Not a fast learner, are you? You should stop that before you cause yourself a mischief. Not that there is any need for it anyway.” Gwyn sniffs the air dramatically, head turned slightly towards the centaur’s equine rump and giving Fionn a smirk. “It seems that you enjoy paying the sort of price I have in mind.” In case the centaur missed his first hint the unicorn looks again firmly towards those horse-like hindquarters, and if Fionn cared to look he would see the tip of Gwyn's colourful shaft poking out of its fuzzy sheath.

Though with Fionn being as flustered as he is the subtle hints are somewhat completely lost on him. He’s half-focused on still trying in vain to worm his way loose, not paying the requisite amount of attention required to pick up on that innuendo. “Oh yeah? Not like I’ve got any money on me.” One last tug confirms to Fionn that yes, he is indeed stuck, and so he finally gives up on his squirming and focuses all his attention on the unicorn. Arms crossed over his chest and look of irritation in his eyes, hiding the concern he has over the current situation. Not the stickiest one that the centaur has ever found himself in mind, but certainly up there.

“Do you have any idea how to take a hint?” A note of exasperation creeps into Gwyn’s voice, wondering to himself just how unsubtle he’s going to have to be to get the centaur to lift their tail. Pointing with his horn the unicorn gestures to the damp spot on the ground. “You defied my woods. And so now-“ Raising his head he points his horn now towards the centaur’s rear. “- I’m going to defile you. Something you are very familiar with, based on your scent.”

Fionn’s mouth opens and closes a couple of times; he really had dropped the ball on this one, hadn’t he. Only now does he finally take a peek to see- yep, the unicorn is most definitely a stallion. A short laugh escapes him before he can choke it back, hurriedly blurting out “Sorry, sorry, but, why didn’t you say so?” upon receiving the unicorn’s glare once more. The centaur’s body visibly relaxes too, seeming to sag down an inch or two like releasing a deep sigh. "That's a yes, by the way. Been on the road... too long."

Gwyn's head cocks to the side, a little surprised but certainly pleased with the centaur's sudden change of heart. “You are a most unusual being. It must have been a truly lonely road for you to be this.. eager.” The unicorn is certainly in no mood to waste time, walking round Fionn's now still form to get a proper up-close look at that rump. Lifting his head as he reaches his target and fixing Fionn with a stare, holding the centaur’s eyes before said taur gets the message and lifts their tail. The object of Gwyn’s lust revealed in all its glory.

A dark ring of muscle, an earthy scent emanating from the wrinkled pucker. Each side of that black mass looking a little stained with sweat, not unexpected after the centaur had spent the whole day travelling with barely a single break, forming lines that can be traced down that equine perineum till they seem to coalesce around that dangling sack. Fionn's pair of breeding orbs tucked safely away, emanating their own distinct musk of stallion which mingles together with those earthy tones, combining together to form the natural scent of the centaur.

“Now that is a sight that should not be hidden. And unless I am very much mistaken, it has been some time - days, if not weeks - since you have emptied these?” Gwyn’s horn pokes - carefully - against Fionn’s balls, the equine able to sense that they have not been put to good use in what is clearly far too long. The shiver that passes through the centaur at even that light touch confirming those suspicions, sensitive beyond what would be considered normal. “S’about right, yeah.”

“Hmm. And the caravan you are travelling with, the draft stallions you have had to walk amongst, unknowingly teasing you with their long, thick members all tucked away. If only you could sneak off with one and raise your tail for him.” As he teases the unicorn’s horn moves oh so slowly up the centaur’s rump. Practically gliding along that dark perineum, pressing only a little more once he starts running that tip round that plump donut, muscles already clenching and unclenching like the stallion’s version of winking. “I… I… Wouldn’t… Say no to t- that.”

“Then let me put you out of your misery. Keep still.” A command that need hardly be given, what with the roots binding Fionn’s legs, combined with the centaur being in desperate need to have something large and hard spreading his ass. Though the commanding tone does draw both another shiver and a drop of more equine shaft from the centaur, that length that he had never managed to retract now lengthening down towards the floor. And all that before Gwyn had even landed his weight on the centaur’s back, the unicorn moving with a grace belied by his equine nature.

Unlike the past who knows how many times he’s had a horse on his back, Fionn is a little surprised with how slight the impact was. As if the unicorn had almost slid himself on rather than jumping up and landing. For his part Gwyn is using just a touch of magic to make things easier, whether that be softening the blow of landing or encouraging out his shaft. Not that the unicorn needs much encouragement for his own shaft to finish unfolding, the brightly coloured length pointing ominously upwards towards the centaur’s exposed hole as it hardens.

A slight shuffle of his hind legs later and the tip of Gwyn’s shaft is lodges nicely against that black pucker. The feeling draws a sharp intake of breath from the centaur, instinctively trying to widen his stance but forgetting about those roots holding him. Not that the unicorn needs the assistance, having already found his mark thanks to a little mage hand’s assistance, bucking slightly against Fionn’s hindquarters. Drawing out a little of his pre that gets smeared round the centaur’s opening, lubrication making it ever more likely that one of these bucks is going to let that large equine member slip in.

To the surprise of absolutely no-one, and pleasure of two equines, that is exactly what happens. One very slick ring is hardly going to keep out a unicorn stallion for long, especially when the centaur it’s part of is practically begging for it. So with very little effort Gwyn’s cock pushes in, spreading that donut to accommodate the wide cock-head and several inches of shaft. A satisfied sigh washing warm air over Fionn’s human back from the unicorn, fighting with the sound of his own moan of pleasure.

“Now that is quite the wonderful feeling. I assume you want me to keep going, yes?” Fionn nods rapidly in response, his rear sending signals of its own as that ass clamps down on the unicorn’s prick, attempting to suck it in deeper or squeeze out more pre. But he is left disappointed as Gwyn instead pulls back until his shaft pops back out, leaving it to rest against the centaur’s rear to a plaintive moan from the centaur.

“I said defiled, and I meant defiled.” If Fionn was quick enough he might figure out what the unicorn meant, but either way it’s made clear a second later. A stream of warm, almost hot fluid splashes against the centaur’s pre-glazed rump as the unicorn relieves himself, letting his bladder drain itself onto the centaur who had drained their own onto the forest floor not all that long ago. Fionn turns his head and is met with a smirk from the unicorn, whose stream continues unabated even as their gazes lock together.

Once the centaur’s rear end is nicely soaked - and imbibed with a scent that will take several weeks to fade - Gwyn pushes forward. His shaft, still pissing with abandon, finds the centaur’s hole with ease and pushes through once again. The flow of warm fluid now filling Fionn’s rear rather than draining down it; quite an unusual sensation for the centaur who can only stare mouth agape at this rather debauched treatment he’s getting. Though he’s not exactly complaining either.

Having been more for show than any actual pressing need, Gwyn’s golden stream only lasts a few moments longer before petering out. Fionn might even have noticed the flow slowing had the unicorn not chosen that moment to get back to the original business; namely fucking that equine ass with abandon. And that’s exactly what he does. With how readily the centaur had opened up for him Gwyn feels no need to hold back, shuffling his hind legs in a little before thrusting forward. Power both physical and ethereal put to work spearing his cock forwards, going from barely entered to fully hilted in one quick motion.

Having an equine shaft - and a long one at that, surprisingly so perhaps for the unicorn’s size - be so quickly introduced to his bowels brings quite the loud sound from Fionn. Part moan, part yell, completely lust-fuelled, the centaur pushes back blindly against that oh-so-satisfying filling sensation he’s getting, head and torso tilting back and eyes closed as he loses himself to his pleasure. His own shaft drawn all the way out nice and quickly too, that dangling flaccid flesh hardening up quickly as the unicorn’s cock throbs within him. Gwyn holds that fully hilted position for a few seconds, savouring the feeling of tightness round the entirety of his shaft.

“You certainly have a knack for this.” Gwyn had lifted his head to be up next to the centaur’s, now moving a little higher still until it’s resting on Fionn’s neck. Keeping the centaur’s upper torso leant back, all the better for the unicorn to hear all those lovely noises that Fionn’s been making. Speaking of those a few more issue forth, a little squeak and a quickly smothered moan as the magical stallion pulls his hips back, shaft sliding out as far as it can from his current position. Which still leaves a good few inches of thick equine dick spreading the centaur open, pre still leaking freely from that blunt head.

Then he powers back in, hips slapping up against wet hindquarters, fuzzy ballsack slapping against the smoother pair dangling from the centaur's loins. This time Gwyn spends no time at all letting Fionn adjust to his size, waiting barely a moment at that deepest point before pulling back again, picking up a smooth, powerful if not particularly fast rhythm. The centaur’s loose hole doing an altogether poor job of keeping all those fluids inside him, rivulets of pre-infused piss joining the rest of the mess along the centaur’s rump and making more of a mess of the forest floor than Fionn ever did.

From the pressure in his ass alone Fionn is managing to approach his release; something which is certainly not lost on the unicorn. Gwyn can feel those muscles warming around his shaft, ass clenching rhythmically and surprisingly tightly around the base whenever he pushes all the way in. No complaints come from having his cock massaged like that of course, and given how the centaur has reacted so far he figures that a little extra stimulation would only make things better.

Stretching his neck out right to its limit Gwyn’s mouth slides nicely over one of the centaur’s nipples. Equine lips immediately get to work on that sensitive nub, squeezing and twisting, using the reaction of Fionn’s internal muscles around his cock to determine what has the most pleasurable effect. Finding just the right combination of lips and a bit of teeth that made the centaur squeeze round him nice and tight, a cute little groan filling the air. Along with the sound of the centaur's cock slapping against his belly, rather erratically in fact, as the intense pressure on Fionn's prostate and stimulation from his chest - not to mention how deep the unicorn's shaft is getting - brings Fionn right up to his release.

It's been barely any time at all before Fionn's ass is clamping down hard, a shudder passing through his body and balls clenching up so they almost disappear into him. Cock-head flaring against his belly, followed moments later by a rope of equine seed flying out, landing on the leaves just in front of the taur. Several more spurts of cum following suit, none quite getting the same distance and instead managing to give the centaur's forelegs a vaguely zebra-like appearance. Orgasm dragged out thanks to Gwyn's pace not slowing in the slightest, the unicorn breezing through the extra tightness of that equine rump as if it were nothing and ensuring that those tauric balls drain themselves nice and completely.

As Fionn is coming down from his high, cock starting to hang a little limper beneath him, the realisation that Gwyn has hardly slowed a jot through all this dawns on him. Not that he has the opportunity to voice his surprise, and there's not any displeasure to speak of either, so having himself be rendered effectively mute thanks to the cock against his prostate and mouth on his chest is not the hindrance it might have been.

For his part Gwyn is just stretching out the time until his first release for as long as he can, enjoying the tightness of the centaur's ass. Rhythmic motions leading to rhythmic sounds of hips clapping against ass, the stream of fluid running down Fionn's rear now almost entirely comprised of clear pre. Another few drips pulled out each time that cock is removed from the centaur, the rest churning around deep inside those equine guts.

At some signal known only to the unicorn; perhaps he could sense Fionn's shaft hardening up again despite his recent release, causing his insides to squeeze just right round Gwyn's cock, or there was some signal known only to the magical equine. Whatever the case the unicorn decides that it's most definitely time for his first release, his own sack clenching up in a movement almost identical to how Fionn's had not all that long ago.

Adjusting his head Gwyn gives a very firm bite to the centaur's as-yet untouched nipple, drawing a cry from his mouth and a sudden clenching from his rump. Just what the unicorn needed to let loose the content of his own potent breeding orbs, cock-head flaring widely inside the centaur a second before the first blast of his warm cream floods inside. Unicorn shaft throbbing as each spurt passes along it, stretching Fionn's already well stretched donut that little further each time he shoots a little more stuffing into the centaur. Tail flicking around behind him in time with the pumping of seed.

Of course the unicorn has to show off, so of course he ensures that his release is noticeably longer and more voluminous than the centaur's. Leaving Fionn feeling nicely full - though having a couple of foot of horse cock stuffed in him too certainly helps that feeling. In spite of that full feeling the centaur manages to relax a little, clearly expecting his night to be done. Thoughts about how he was going to clean himself before heading back to camp, not particularly wanting to head back there with cum dripping from his rear and scent of unicorn strong on him.

A minute later Fionn starts to get concerned. The unicorn has remained both on his back and fully hilted within him, with not the slightest indicator that he's even started to soften. The centaur eventually works up the courage to turn his head to face Gwyn. "So... How long're you gonna, y'know?" Gwyn's head perks up in response, having been waiting for the appropriate moment to arrive. "My dear centaur, whoever told you that you would only get one? I intend to keep you here until your belly is sagging like a pregnant mare, and all within fifty miles can smell my scent on you." With the centaur's fate now clear the unicorn picks up his thrusting again, a smirk on Gwyn's face and a look of lust-addled concern on Fionn's. This is going to be a looooong night...