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Debauchery had taken root in the camp in full, and the entire Pal cohort were now on board with the idea of appealing to their Master through means of seduction; their intent to have him give up on his goal of escaping from the [Palpagos Islands] by presenting the Human with a lewd utopia to rule over. Every female was to be his doting womb-slave, every male his submissive boy-slut, and as the instincts of those that lived within the mists compelled the weak to bow to the strong, even newly inducted Pals were quick to intuit his desire and offer themselves up as a matter of course. He was the ruler of their camp, and as such it was his right to possess them, and natural for his belongings to surrender their everything to him.

For some, this was quite a fortunate development. Their Master alone was the one who had the right to determine their value, and those whose work and battle proficiencies were quite low by circumstance of their species had an opportunity to demonstrate their worth in a different way. Carnal contest offered a level playing field, and the assembled Pals skirmished endlessly in hopes of becoming their Master's favourite, held in check only by [Leezpunk]'s meticulously crafted turn order of who was next to share his [Shoddy Bed].

Many evenings, one might hear the sound of some submissive male, crying out loudly enough to overcome the rumbling cascade of the nearby waterfall, their words an endless string of profanity. The sole purpose of their impotent cocks was to demonstrate to their Master how much they enjoyed being made into his whores, their seed belonged only on the floor, and they yearned to be filled with the superior essence that would drive them to submission, bodies wracked with the writhing ecstasy of ruinous bitchgasms.

Though just as often, it would be a wailing female, shamelessly demanding that her Master breed her bestial cunt, [Foxparks] being especially vocal in how she yearned to birth for him a whole harem of playthings, dedicated to the cock that sired them. Each was a harlot dedicated to his pleasure, their grasping insides battered into submission by the spire of his masculinity, until they had each been perfectly moulded into the shape most apt to give him pleasure.

A freshly creamed cunt, or an undertail leaking seed, was shown off about the camp as a mark of pride, matted fur and cum-slicked scales looked upon as enviable, for a lightly gaped hole drooling essence down the thighs of a Pal meant that they had recently enjoyed their Master's favour. One time, after going a few days without having her cookie creamed, [Direhowl] had been driven to such a state of jealousy by the sight of [Tombat]'s freshly seeded feline cunt, that she had pinned down and licked at her so vigorously that before the end, her entire muzzle had been forced into the other female and her broad tongue lapping at the broken dam of her cervix.

There was generally little interest in the Pals mating with one another. Most of the males could scarcely maintain an erection without the touch of their Master, and even the cheat of relying on [Lovander] pheromones was a comparatively hollow pleasure. Yet, if he were ever to command them to breed for him, or even to fuck for his amusement, there would be no shortage of vigour. Compelled by his words, the female offering herself up was surrendering not to the male Pal, but to her Master – while for the male, serving as a tool controlled by his Master was submission as well.

One outlier remained; once the leader and matriarch of the camp Pals, and now an outcast of sorts, [Eikthyrdeer] considered the current state of affairs to be entirely her fault. If she had just put her hoof down right at the start, then all of this depravity could have been avoided and their Master convinced to stay with them through much more wholesome means. The broken-antlered doe had allowed [Lovander] to take her shot at seducing their Master believing that she would either fail in the attempt, or that any resulting lewdness would be restricted entirely to her. But soon, [Cremis] would surrender as well, and one by one, she found herself to be stripped of allies. Now, she was alone.

She couldn't say that she was shunned. If anything, they all seemed pretty determined to win her over, with no shortage of appeals levelled against her. [Lovander] would corner her and unveil some depraved fantasy, usually a rather vivid description of how she longed to observe their Master mate the doe into a mewling cumdump, grappling her teats for amusement while he reamed her cervine pussy. Sometimes [Foxparks] would wax lyrical about the joy of sharing intimate moments with the Human in the wake of carnal bliss, lazing together in his [Shoddy Bed] with his fingers trailing through her fur in gentle caress. Or, it would be [Leezpunk], so pleased that his Master had praised him for his work about camp, the little lizard feeling truly valued as he accepted his reward of a muzzlefull of thick and creamy Human cum.

They were happy. That was undeniable. Each and every one of them had surrendered to their Master, and most of them had reached the submission of complete dependency. One or two were even open about having fallen in love with the man, desiring him as a mate in the Human way. But, they didn't know. Those fools didn't know. Only [Eikthyrdeer] saw this for the folly that it was – because she had seen it all before. Eventually, this debauched paradise would crumble, and those that had invested their hearts would be most wounded of all when all things came to ruin. Her broken antler was testament that even the worthiest of Alphas could turn rotten. No. In her mind, it was inevitable.

This terrible prophecy of doom weighed down upon her, and she despised herself for being so faithless. The implosion of her previous herd had lodged a shard of cynicism deep into her heart, and she could not dislodge it, much as she yearned to. Thock. Thock. Thock. She struck at the [Logging Site] with her ruined antlers, the metronome of her labours giving some order to her thoughts. There was a limit to contrarianism, and [Eikthyrdeer] was self-aware enough to know that she had bounded past it quite some time ago. Every Pal but her had managed to make a leap of faith, they were all happier for it, and only her own stubbornness prevented her from doing the same.

How blissful surrender to her Master would be, the relief of placing herself entirely in his hands, even at the cost of a humiliating climbdown. There were plenty of small cracks in her resilience, and her traitorous body had started to act in defiance of her will. Her gaze lingering enviously upon the creamed cookie of passing [Direhowl]. A glimpse of [Anubis] pressed against a wall, pants around his ankles, knotted cock straining as his Master fucked the cum out of him. The lewd ululations of [Tombat] resounding in her ears as the feline underwent some perverted punishment or another. [Eikthyrdeer] could no longer deny the arousal of these moments, and she had found herself seeking shameful release more than once in the press of her cervine cunt against one of the trees of her own [Logging Site], fantasising about taking the same place beneath her Master that the rest of the herd were enjoying so much.

For all of her proud defiance of the lewdness that she was sure would ruin her Master and bring misery to the Pals, the thought of her own carnal surrender was a fantasy potent enough for her to mark the tree she used to masturbate with squirting femgasms wet enough to have left an enduring discolouration upon the bark. She couldn't bring herself to blame the abundance of [Lovander] pheromones that had inundated the camp, or even her own instinctual herd mentality to conform. Her lust for her Master was genuine. She yearned for him so much that sometimes when she argued with the Pals, she was hoping that rather than win them over to her side, they would say something profound enough to defeat her doomsaying for good and allow her to surrender alongside them with dignity intact.

Acknowledgement of her hypocrisy only deepened the pall of self-loathing that enshrouded her. She tottered on the brink of the [Depressed] status effect, and it was at this moment that an authoritative voice broke her reverie, “Greetings." [Anubis] had taken up position at the [Stone Pit] parallel to her own workstation, matching the rhythm of his pickaxe to the swing of her antlers as he observed the doe with an appraising eye.

She paused in her labour and so did he. Whatever the state of his introduction to the camp, [Anubis] was an honoured Pal species, and she paid him the proper respects, “Good morning, Catrian." There was an intensity to his gaze that stymied the attempt to win him to her side she had been working on, “Do you have some business with me?"

He nodded his head. Formal and a little high-strung, but so was she. Not one to mince words, he got straight to the point, “Vanilla is convinced that you will find an answer in the end that satisfies you. Everyone has been waiting for that time to pass." He crossed his arms, pickaxe at his shoulder, “I am sorry. It is because of me that time has ran out. The [Rayne Syndicate] will surely respond to Master's [Raid] on them, and we must all be unified to meet the challenge. Master needs you. He needs all of us. Please be silent and listen to what I have to tell you…"

Sequestered between the two resource nodes, the Pals held a conference; though unbeknownst to them, [Eikthyrdeer] was the subject of Luke's meandering thoughts as well. Her Master had seated himself at the opposite end of the camp at the cliff-edge that had become his favourite thinking spot. From here, he had quite the view of the lower reaches of the [Plateau of Beginnings], and he had set himself up a [Wooden Bench] there to make things a little more comfortable. Well, that was half true. He had no problem sitting on the stone of the cliff-edge, but if he were to do that then there would be no space for [Leezpunk] to take his usual place on his knees between his Master's legs, and the little lizard had fixed him with such a reproachful look after he'd last whiled away some hours in this spot that Luke didn't have it in him to refuse him.

So, he caved completely and indulged the exhibitionist Pal. [Leezpunk] enjoyed more than worshipful submission – he wanted every Pal to be able to observe his very public surrender, making sure to thrum a moan in his throat and draw attention at the moment that he achieved yet another untouched orgasm from nothing but the heft of his Master's cock in his muzzle and the flavour of precum on his tongue. Luke was far from the apex of his own pleasure, but acknowledged the submissive climax of his servant by setting his hand to the side of their head and hilting his cock in his muzzle for the duration of it. In his free hand he wielded his tablet, open to a status display, “[Eikthyrdeer], Protector of the Herd…" He muttered the [Paldeck] entry under his breath, the grasp of [Leezpunk]'s throat a pleasant background sensation, “The one who possesses the most impressive antlers becomes the leader of the herd. If their antlers are broken, they become depressed and leave the herd never to be seen again."

The man may have completely missed the mark in his judgement of the kind of affection that his Pals held for him, but he was more than sharp enough to connect the dots when it came to things like this. He had first encountered [Eikthyrdeer] wandering the region he now enjoyed an overlook of; stumbling around with next to no [HP] and looking entirely shellshocked, she had surrendered to the [Pal Sphere] without a fight. Since then, he had come to know her very well. Kind and matronly, she had looked after the weaker Pals especially; she doted on him as well and clearly had a strong sense of duty. For someone like her to have been driven from her herd…

“She almost certainly wasn't in the wrong." He released [Leezpunk], letting the worshipful little slut take a breath of air and get back to lavishing his cock with his tongue, the submissive male scarcely needing to move his muzzle as he plied his Master with enjoyment. Luke remained lost in thought, following the course of his intuition, “So, [Alpha Eikthyrdeer] was a massive prick…"

[Eikthyrdeer] had been burned once before. Of course she wasn't going to be quick to place her faith in him if the last person she had bonded herself to had treated her poorly. At first, Luke was content to just give her time, making sure to dole out plenty of affection – but as her isolation from the rest of the Pals had slowly become more and more apparent, he thought it would be a dereliction of his duties as her Master to continue to stand by. If he was the leader of her herd, then he had a responsibility to bring her into it.

Figuring out how to achieve that was the purpose of this reverie, and he had become so used to the banquet of pleasures presented by his camp that the submissive male suckling at his cock barely even factored into his thoughts. For a while, he had thought that such treatment was a little degrading, but careful observation of the Pals had revealed to him that this was a position of honour, one frequently skirmished over. His inattention to their dedicated oral was somehow attributed as a mark of success, too. Baffling. Were they the perverts for fighting over the right to suck his cock while he tapped away at his tablet, or was he the pervert for indulging them?

Ah, best not to get too sidetracked. Though, he did admittedly have quite a few plates spinning. The [Rayne Syndicate] represented an existential threat, and after [Raid]ing their camp, he would be wise to further fortify his own holdings against any reprisal. He may be quite hidden away up here, protected by the sentinel of roaming [Alpha Mammorest] in the foothills, but just hoping that they would never find his camp would be an incredibly foolish defence plan. The answer to this was the secret project he had been working on up at the peak along with his newly acquired [Katress] and [Wixen], and he was quite looking forward to unveiling it all. There was also the matter of Beryl and her tribe. The islander had impressed him, and he hoped to invite her to join him – another Human would be very useful to have around.

And since she had indulged in the deviancy of breeding with Pals once before (and seemed to enjoy it, although shamefully – Luke had noticed that birthgasm when she passed the egg, of course), she would be able to increase his war power substantially if she availed him of her merchant contacts for [Cake], and proved amenable to spreading her legs for [Anubis]' thick canine knot, or fancied another ride on [Alpha Chillet]'s draconic spire. He blinked, a strange realisation settling upon him. His morals surely had shifted if he was starting to think of a fellow Human first and foremost as potential breeding stock, another submissive female to add to his harem as casually as he would a captured Pal.

He'd been aware of it for a while. Inside the mists there was an instinctual dichotomy of domination and submission, those that were rulers and those that were ruled, and at times he could feel the keen press of that driving factor imposing itself onto his thoughts. He was of course, benefiting from the instinctual submission of his Pals. But Luke had made it a policy to not give in to the conceit of his position of power. Slippery was the slope that ended with him becoming some sort of evil sex-warlord. That was why he never initiated a thing with any one of his Pals – each of them presented to him by [Lovander] or making their carnal desire so obvious that he couldn't possibly miss the intent. After all, if you walk into your front room to find [Anubis] tied up, gagged and blindfolded, his legs spread with his azure cock leaking his arousal onto his belly, there were only so many ways you could take that. As for Catrian, he took it under his tail and then in his muzzle, and seemed to very much prefer it in that order too.

But, that self-imposed rule of his left his hands tied at times like this. He didn't feel that it would be right to seduce [Eikthyrdeer] himself when her instincts may oblige her surrender, nor to simply lob the lewd lizard in her direction with obvious intent. He needed her to approach him. Or rather, wanted. He liked her, and he always had, of all of his Pals she had always come across as the most level-headed, if a little flighty sometimes. Strong, proud, and she suited his exotic tastes as well, for Luke was unashamed enough in his perversion by now to have sneaked plenty of glances under her tail while brushing her fur. Those swinging crotch-tits were quite the marvel as well. Weren't they superfluous when Pals were hatched from eggs entirely full-grown?

He needed to do something, “How am I supposed to win her trust…?" That was the question he was agonizing over, and no answer seemed forthcoming. [Leezpunk] had learned enough of their rudimentary sign language to hold something approaching a conversation with him, though one glance down was enough to show that there were absolutely no thoughts going on inside of his head at that particular moment. His eyes were glazed, and his inferior little lizard cock had made quite the mess of the front of his hoodie, his legs quivering as the glance of his Master seemed to inspire another submissive bitchgasm. This pint-sized cumdump was unlikely to prove the best of council, his surrender to the masculinity that owned him entirely on autopilot.

So, Luke would have to figure it out for himself. Unfortunately, he was not able to arrive at a solution, even after [Leezpunk] had been rewarded with the bellyful of essence he'd been craving, and for the rasping tongue of [Tombat] to have had her share when she took up the position next. But lucky for him, he was not the only one grappling with the problem.

… … …

… …

…

It was dusk, and [Anubis] had been obliging enough to convince the Pals scattered about the camp that an early night was in their best interests, a thoroughly cum-basted and nigh-insensate [Tombat] being the last to vacate the area after being tossed onto [Alpha Chillet]'s back for transport to her [Fluffy Pal Bed]. Of course, while they may have withdrawn from the area, [Eikthyrdeer] had no doubt that some would be watching from the windows of the cliffside structure that constituted their home. It would be humiliating enough to go through with this privately, but the doe could practically feel the gazes fixed upon her as she closed the distance on her Master, the man observing the evening sky in solitude from his perch.

She imagined that he had some noble thoughts in mind, or perhaps he was pondering a greater plan to shore up their defences against the [Rayne Syndicate]. The doe would have been thoroughly disappointed to learn that he had actually spied the behemoth of [Alpha Mammorest] roaming around the lower reaches and was squinting hard in a futile attempt to peek under their tail to determine if they were male or female. There was no hope of telling from this distance, but Luke, thoroughly defeated by the question of his cervine companion, was decompressing by entertaining himself with a slightly wacky mental simulation of how on earth he might go about dominating such an enormous creature, whichever sex they ended up being.

[Eikthyrdeer] had been given much to consider. It was clear that the sexual submission of his Pals had not convinced their Master to give up on his plans of escaping from the [Palpagos Islands] thus far, and he had managed to entirely miss the feelings that had come to underpin the carnal devotion of his expanding harem. None of them intended to stop, of course. Each of them thought that they would be the one to finally get through to him – their pleasure was not a need that they indulged in together under the influence of [Lovander] pheromones, but one with a much more wholesome root to it. The indulgence of these desires had become an integral part of their lives, and they truly had bonded themselves entirely with their Master, his affection as vital for them as food and sleep. This absolute dependency was the power of submission within the realm of the mists at work, but every one of them had yielded freely to it.

Her discussion with [Anubis] had ended in quite the frank exchange. Able to appraise the Soul with his eye of judgement, it simply wasn't possible for her to lie to him, and after he had explained the precarious situation to come in full, she had responded with a complete unburdening of herself. She required some reassurance for the leap of faith that the other Pals had managed to make so freely, and the jackal had kindly patted her on the shoulder and provided one. Or rather, an entire list of them; his own surrender was a demonstration of belief in their Master's incorruptible nature; the threat of the [Rayne Syndicate] required unity to meet; and the camp Pals couldn't stand watching her be miserable like this. [Foxparks] had apparently bawled her eyes out to him, and that revelation alone had left her shuffling awkwardly on her hooves.

She had thought that the only one affected by her stubbornness was her, and it appalled her to think how much she had been worrying everyone. That as well was reeled off by the jackal – it was clear that she wanted to give herself to her Master, and her own will was the most important factor of all. She must find in herself the courage to overcome the lingering trauma of [Alpha Eikthrdeer], and now was the time to do it. In this survival of the fittest [Palpagos Islands], there was no gentle counselling and careful therapy. The only way to overcome the cynicism that had taken hold of her heart was to brazen through it. That was the way of Pals – power resolved everything, you were either strong enough, or you were not, whatever the form of the challenge. Might made right.

To back down after being given so many indisputable reasons to advance would have destroyed her pride and ended her credibility within the camp for good. [Anubis] had cornered her, and now she was coerced into at least trying. But if she was truthful, a part of her was happy to have received such a forceful push. Maybe her reasoning was a little contrived. In fact, the nonsense of it all made her snort. It really was all just an excuse, wasn't it? All of these reasons and reassurances for her to be able to do the thing that she wanted to do all along. She would give herself to him, and hope beyond hope, that he would pluck the thorn of doubt from her soul.

Those heavy thoughts were entirely contrasting with the quite ludicrous fantasies that Luke was indulging in, the man having become so absorbed in it all that he didn't notice [Eikthyrdeer] until she stood behind him and lowered her head to nudge her tree-scuffed cheek against his. To his credit, he took her sudden appearance in stride, reaching up over his shoulder to idly stroke her facial fur, “Ah. I do need to give you a brushdown, don't I?" That offer found quite the encouraging huff in response, and he rose from his [Wooden Bench] with a smile, stretching out before leading the mount he'd spent the day obsessing over to the crafting area. He'd take another run at brainstorming some way of bringing her into the herd tomorrow.

The tablet had been sufficiently obliging to provide Luke with the extra option of [Rope] (which seemed to be only good for bondage, as anything not on the crafting list he made with it fell apart as usual), but he had not been fortunate enough to be gifted with something as simple as a brush. His splayed fingers were sufficient with enough effort, and the reason that he had brought her to the [Wooden Chest] situated here was to retrieve for himself some [Cloth] and [Pal Oil]. It was a ritual that they had repeated countless times, and one that Luke had always found quite relaxing. Also, since [Eikthyrdeer] never seemed too interested in anything sexual, this served as the bonding time that he enjoyed with her. She was due some devotion too, after all.

Of course, she was counting on that. Presenting the scuffed fur of her cheek to him after a day at work at the [Logging Site] was all to lead him here, after all. And that the crafting area was at the side of the main cliffside structure and not in the open where she could be easily watched by any spying Pals was quite the boon as well. Straining her ears, she could hear a disappointed clamour from the interior, but quickly put it from her mind. Whatever they had to say to her, she would face it all tomorrow. Considering the state that she hoped to be in at that point, she anticipated quite the outcry of hypocrisy.

Her Master oiled the rag, and she bowed her head to him obligingly to let him have at her ruined antlers. Whatever her motives for what lay beyond, to be tended to by the Human in this way was sheer bliss. Her antlers were entirely bereft of any burrs, though still required no shortage of care to maintain an appropriately majestic appearance. She'd some sensation in them, and the press of his hand as he lacquered the intact side of her rack had her close her eyes and sigh in enjoyment, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as he reached up to the turquoise of bladed tips.

The ruined antler at the other side was a fractured mess, a twisted deformity that even regenerating [HP] had failed to resolve, it gave her a uniquely asymmetrical look amongst her kin. There was a sensitivity here, one which her Master had learned to be quite mindful of, and by the dusklight he worked his magic on the azure and heliotrope horns until they glimmered in the dying rays. He set down the oiled cloth – and as no such implement existed on the crafting list, it faded slowly into particles of light, scarcely having maintained its integrity for long enough to meet its purpose. It was a sight that Luke had long grown used to by now.

Half-curling his fingers into the shape of a claw, Luke set his hands to the fluffy mane of [Eikthyrdeer]'s neck, and it took the full application of his enhanced stamina to keep up the brushing motion necessary to cleanse her of wood fragments, stray leaves, and other accumulated particulate matter. She seemed to enjoy being tended to him more than availing herself of the [Hot Spring] bath, and Luke hardly intended to complain. This was a process quite relaxing for him as well, and the blissful expressions that it drew from the usually quite stern looking Pal was rather enjoyable to watch. Heartwarming, even. The underside of her core was a soft cream colour, and he took his time working his way down the presented chest of the deer Pal before setting himself to the more vibrant violet of her topside.

A little rougher, but hardly unpleasant, the quite stout formation of her body and the way in which she moved at a gallop sometimes had him wonder if she was closer to equine than cervine in parts. His fingertips didn't do much to ruffle her fur, but the low moaning exhalation from [Eikthyrdeer] made it clear that she was very much enjoying the massage. Slowly, he worked his way down to her flanks, and as always, he took quite the amount of time working on her thighs and her bushy almost wolf-like tail.

[Eikthyrdeer] suppressed a small smile. His hands may have always stopped short of the prize, but she knew full well why he spent so long tending to her hindquarters. It was little wonder that the Pals had pretty much unanimously declared the man to be particularly easy to seduce. Perhaps it was simply down to the depths of his own exotic sexual appetites, or maybe he really did just enjoy obliging them all that much. After all, he always catered to their particular tastes. Either way, the result was the same. Their hedonist of a Master was a complete pervert, and would freely indulge in anything from bondage to exhibitionism to the strange sexual stamina contests that [Lovander] kept engaging him in.

It was time for her to make her move, and this small bout of mirth did a lot to quell her fear. She had to believe in her Master. Give herself to him, and trust that everything would be alright. There was no more room for hesitation. She was ready to make her leap of faith, even if it all ended in ruin. So, as his hand slipped down her flank, she stepped over his arm with one hindleg and allowed the end of his brushing motion to land on her teats.

Luke froze.

For a moment, time seemed to have stopped. He'd often found himself eyeing these crotch-tits, but never had been so brazen as to touch them, taking care to even avoid any accidents like this. However much his exotic tastes had him cast quite a lecherous look at the doe at times, Luke had always respected that she wasn't quite as sexually attuned as the other Pals, and had kept his own distance accordingly. But now, the stepping of her hindleg and the guidance of his palm could have been nothing but deliberate. The Pal he had spent the day deliberating over, the source of his worries, had taken an action that he was not so naïve as to misinterpret.

Pink and warm, the weight against his palm was distinctly dissimilar to a Human, the two protrusions pressed together, the skin a little tougher than expected, the heft grander, and one nub already very firm to the touch. He swallowed, not quite enough of a gentleman to resist a rather shameless squeeze, and her hindlegs twitched slightly in response. Luke looked up, finding that [Eikthyrdeer] had squeezed her eyes shut, her face contorted in effort.

“You don't have to feel obliged to do this, you know?" It took a profound amount of willpower for him to remove his hand from the cushioning warmth of her crotch-tits, “I've been worried for a while about you being excluded from all of this, but it's not like it's necessary for us to be doing lewd stuff for you to be part of the herd." He gave a slight smile, feeling a little stupid for having spent so long overthinking this to begin with, “I didn't want to make waves when this all started, but now I feel like I've got enough authority to gather everyone up and just smooth this over with them."

Of course, her Master would say that. This was the fundamental difference between him, who inspired his Pals to offer him their everything, and [Alpha Eikthyrdeer], who took it all as if he were owed it by right of being born an Alpha. She took a breath and then huffed, “What a fool I have been…" How could she have been stupid enough to have ever compared her Master to that oaf? She didn't doubt for a moment that if she were to turn him down now, then he would finish off their brushdown session and with a little browbeating he'd assemble the Pals and force peace on them all the next morning.

It bought him faith. Enough faith for her to rear up and slump her upper body over the nearby [Primitive Workbench] to allow some space beneath her body for her Master. She knew that he was rather fascinated by her teats, and from this position he would be able to avail himself of them freely. Luke nodded his head solemnly. Good. She liked when her Master was obedient like this – it made him much easier for her to dote on. Perhaps if they were going to close the distance between them, he wouldn't mind if she mothered him a little?

Even if hers were a little unconventional, she'd teats that were quite superior in her opinion to the mane-hidden breasts sported by [Lovander] – and comparing her to [Tombat]'s washboard would be entirely laughable. [Direhowl] and [Foxparks] were differently configured as well, with nothing much to show. Though, maybe the vixen might develop a little if she got to breeding as much as she seemed to intend. She'd not gotten much of a look at [Katress] and [Wixen] before her Master whisked them away for some sort of secret project, so there was a chance one of them might have her beat. Regardless, her Master clearly liked tits, be they on the chest, along the abdomen, or placed as hers were – and as expected, he immediately helped himself as soon as it made it obvious she was presenting them for him.

Inside his mind, Luke cheered. He was allowed a comfortable seat on the earth before the [Primitive Workbench], and right before his eyes were presented the rather unique teats that until this moment he'd had to be quite careful in sneaking glances of. He set his hands to them, hefting each weight in a palm and capturing each nub between his thumb and first finger. There was no sag, for that would impact the movement of a Pal species that needed to be mobile, but the broadness of them was more than sufficient for him to be able to squeeze two overflowing handfuls that (not that he would ever admit it to her face) put Vanilla to shame.

Reactive, as well. Each presented nub was a darker shade of pink and much more pronounced than a Human – though nowhere near as absurd as a bovine udder, the stiffness intensified further as he plied some pressure to them in a gentle vice. Heavenly. The rather ludicrous thought crossed his mind that he wouldn't mind wasting a whole day just toying with them, and he had the distinct feeling that [Eikthyrdeer] would oblige him. He took his time, deciding that if she was going to give herself to him, then he was going to have his fun devouring her. What caught him by surprise was the arrival of a small amount of wetness in his hands.

At first, he had thought that the femslick of anticipation had dripped down from above, but the reality was an obvious one. [Eikthyrdeer] had birthed her share of fawns for that bastard Alpha, and though they hatched as full-grown as any other Pal with all of the inherited knowledge necessary to survive, her own motherly instincts had her dote on them plenty. She was a breeding Pal, and nursed her offspring accordingly, raising them up so that they could serve the herd well – and now the anticipation of another impending breeding had reawakened this capacity. Luke was done caring about the strangeness of the rules inside the mists. His breeding doe was so horny that she had started producing [Milk] for him, and what sort of Master would he be to meet this outcome with anything but a lecherous grin and the immediate engulfing of one of those raised peaks with his mouth.

[Eikthyrdeer] exhaled a low moan of satisfaction. There was no feeling comparable to the gentle caress of Human dexterity against her teats, and he latched onto her far more gently than any of her fawns ever had. This was not for a meal, nor the reciprocation of nursing instinct, but an obliging pleasure. Fascinated by her teats though he was, it was clear that every move that he made was for her enjoyment, a slow and gentle massage of his hands and now the gentle suckling of her raised nipples. She churned up her [Milk], melting into the gentle ecstasy, and distinctly aware of the leaking wetness of her winking cervine cunt, every twitch invitation for her Master to mount her.

Though, Luke was fully occupied with her overly-productive crotch-tits. It was not normally possible to procure [Milk] from an [Eikthyrdeer], but he didn't taste a profound difference between this and the bottle he had purchased from Beryl. On further analysis, perhaps it was a little heavier, higher in fat content and closer to the thickness of cream. There was a lewdness to that fact that seemed to suit the deer, particularly since the stifled moans coming from above revealed this treatment to be something of a weak point for her. She was placing herself in his hands, yet there was no passivity to it – the feeling more as if she were doting on him than just surrendering.

The teat that he was neglecting leaked its own ample cream over the shirt of his casual [Cloth Outfit], and the musky scent of animal arousal was lingering with the headiness of churning [Milk]. Luke was in no hurry. At his own gentle suction, the volume streaming from her teats was quite manageable, and the erotic moans that were accompanying his drink were a fine backing track to the slacking of his thirst. His hands pressed against the yielding softness, he rolled, pinched, and worked the exposed nipples, and he caught them between his lips to nurse from her obligingly.

The doe reeled in bliss. This was like nothing that she had ever felt before, the ministrations of his hands turning the heat of arousal into pure electricity. Her tail had instinctively raised, lest it be entirely drenched by the streaming of her desperate pussy, the mess of femslick dripped down her inner thighs, finding its way in rivulets to the swinging teats beneath her, and soon she had corrupted the taste of her [Milk] with the flavour of her own arousal. The realisation of that fact was debauched enough to bring her to a shameful climax, her hindlegs quivering as her upper body collapsed over the [Primitive Workbench].

Her orgasm was a messy one, a squirting femgasm that splattered the ground behind her, cascading into a gushing pleasure that rained down onto her Master. His groping continued, the motions never ceasing, and she rode through the shuddering stimulation of his touch. A small shock passed through her, the knowledge that if she were to surrender to him completely, then there would be no turning back. This pleasure was too addicting, the intimacy and care of his touch too much, she felt as if her whole being was melting in his grasp, and her instincts yearned for the submission of becoming his breeding partner, free to dote on him far more proactively than any of those other Pal harlots.

No wonder the whole camp had surrendered to him. She had never felt such a stirring in her heart when [Alpha Eikthyrdeer] had demanded she put up her tail for him. Her instincts were not singing the siren song of conforming to the herd, but something more raw, more powerful, they demanded her submission as a woman. The strong rule. The weak submit. She was his to own, and her matronly nature yearned for nothing more than to be owned, to dote upon her dominant male, and to play mother to his herd. How many of his offspring, of how many species, would take his place at her teats in future? How many subservient Pals would she raise up to surrender their everything to him?

It was the first time that the lewd utopia promised by Vanilla had looked alluring for her, for despite the lewd lizard always demanding that [Eikthyrdeer] had a place in it, it was only now that she could clearly envision what that place was. And the fantasy was seductive enough to send her into a second wailing, squirting, ruinous climax. Another messy femgasm lewdly splattered the ground behind her, and her Master rumbled his amusement as her musky [Neutral Type] taste further corrupted his meal.

This new prophecy took root in her heart, not one of her Master's ruin, but of his triumph, and her belief in that future eradicated the final vestiges of doubt. Relief washed over her. All of those worries seemed like such nonsense now. The level of depravity that [Lovander] was aiming for might be a bit much for her, and [Eikthyrdeer] did not for a second think of her surrender as unwholesome. She loved her Master, and she wanted to give him everything. Oh. Perhaps all of those perversions, the bondage, the exhibitionism, the breeding – maybe that was just how each other Pal had chosen to make clear their own feelings, their own submission, their own complete dependency on the male that had taken possession of them. Yes. Everything was for Master. Her life belonging to him was incomparable to one lived in the wilds. He deserved her everything, and he would have it.

Luke had no idea that the moaning doe above him was bounding off into absolute subservience, nor was he really fully aware that every one of his Pals was similarly dedicated. Yet, his instinctual drive towards dominance responded on a subconscious level, and he felt the moment of her complete surrender to him as a strange thrill of victory. She belonged to him now, entirely, and the fact settled in his heart as an unassailable truth. Perhaps that would have been a good moment to take position behind her and finally take stock of the cervine cunt he'd been ogling for months. But, he was far from done with her crotch-tits yet.

The sexual submission of a conquered Pal made them intensely receptive to the touch of the one to whom they had surrendered themselves. It was for this reason that [Leezpunk] could reach an untouched orgasm from nothing but his Master's cock settled into his maw, and by that same principle there was more than enough pleasure to be found in only the fondling of this erogenous zone of her teats to drive [Eikthyrdeer] into climax after climax. Submission was bliss, and her body came to respond to him as she came under his possession, the rasp of his tongue an incomparable ecstasy, the warmth of his roaming hands a soul-deep pleasure. Her Master was taking his time with her, working her body into a frenzy of need.

She yearned to be mounted, to dote on him with her body, and the mist of desire was starting to drive away any other conscious thoughts. Her gushing cunt twitched, and now the entirety of her hindquarters shivered along with it. The doe bucked forward, pinning Luke against the [Primitive Workbench] and further pressing her teats into the male she was smothering with them. Her [Milk] was overflowing, but at least they were tended to – her wet cervine pussy now ached with want, and it was only by the force of her subservience to her Master that she did not pull back herself to raise her tail for him. No. He along got to decide when he claimed her. Until that moment, he could indulge as much as he desired.

Fortunately for her, Luke was quite ready for that himself. Pinned beneath [Eikthyrdeer], he was at the mercy of her scent, his face buried in her crotch-tits, her moans resounding about them, and the spattering mess of wet femgasms cascading from above. The [Palpagos Islands] had given him a taste for the exotic, and the eroticism of his predicament was enough for him to have long freed his cock from his [Cloth Outfit]. He smacked his lips and finally pulled back from the teat he was working on, pleased at the sight of two equally erect nipples still dribbling a little [Milk] for him, he finally slid free to position himself behind the doe.

He was right in thinking of the configuration of her body to be somewhere between cervine and equine, for before him was presented quite the pronounced cunt – far puffier than one might expect from a doe, but hardly the meaty folds of a mare either. Conscious that her Master was behind him, her tail had raised obligingly, and he'd the sight of the round doughnut of her undertail, and the winking clit of her dripping cunt. Wet didn't even begin to describe it – there was no contest between her and any of the other female Pals, the lewd fluids of sexual desire were streaming from her, washing over the inside of her thighs in rivulets to flow down and drip from her dangling teats.

Her broad clit winked again, each twitch of her folds showing off the pink insides of her cunt, and Luke didn't hesitate for a moment to indulge his curiosity by spreading her further with his fingers. For a large Pal, she looked a lot more snug than he expected. Though, considering how much cross-breeding was involved inside the mists, it made sense for her to be suitable for smaller males as well. Beryl had already proven just how much the native regeneration allowed stretching here – so, was every cunt tight and wet by default, with plenty of capacity to be battered into shape for larger males? If so, maybe [Alpha Mammorest] wasn't such a ridiculous musing for him to have after all…

Ah, he couldn't let his mind wander to other Pals at a time like this. [Eikthyrdeer] was slumped over the bench she'd hitched herself up on, and Luke was quite pleased to have such a fortunate angle to work with. He took the base of her tail into his fist, keeping it high and out of the way, and with his free hand the man decided to properly explore the cunt that belonged to him. Fingers twisted into velvet heat, and immediately her body twitched and wet femgasm splattered with enough force to slicken the entirety of his arm.

Luke swallowed. If she were the rougher sort, he probably would have taken advantage of such a thing to force his entire arm into the doe, until he could feel around the womb that he now owned. [Direhowl] certainly seemed to enjoy a ruinous fisting, the complete surrender of her insides driving the needy bitch into howling pleasure. But, this inviting cervine cunt demanded a little more tenderness – his instincts told him that much. The heat of her large body was tremendous, her inner warmth not too dissimilar to the [Fire Type] Ashley, and he took to slowly tracing the lines of her presented folds, teasing the outermost presentation of her twitching pussy. The scent as well was overwhelming. Musky and animalistic, perhaps someone with less exotic tastes might have even found it unpalatable, but Luke had no such hangups. He lowered himself, and after once dragging his tongue over the length of her lewd femininity, he captured that winking clit on its next presentation, and crushed it between his lips.

[Eikthyrdeer]'s antlers whistled as she tossed her head, her whole body spasming from the force of her reaction to her Master's attentions. She bleat helplessly, drooling over the wood as she descended into incomprehensible whining as white-hot pleasure brought her to another squirting femgasm. She'd doused the Human, but he hardly seemed to care at all, lewdly lapping away at her shameless need, and from his thoughtful expression, he seemed to be assessing her flavour. The submission of it all had her shudder again. She really did belong to him. And now, he was taking stock of what he owned, learning the depths of his possessions. Her teats were his to make sport of, her wet cervine cunt existed only for his enjoyment. Her womb throbbed with anticipation for the claiming of his seed, and she shifted herself back slightly, making clear her offering.

He licked his lips. Her taste was not too dissimilar to a Human, lacking any of the spice of a [Fire Type] or the strangely menthol adrenaline of the likes of [Alpha Chillet]. A slight salty-sourness stood out, but he couldn't say that he hated the flavour of her gushing femgasms. A good thing, because the amount of fluids that the submissive doe produced was simply ludicrous. Between the leaking milk and streams of femcum, he half expected her to wither up completely. Still, oral might take a little practice if he didn't want to drown in her slick – and there would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, he was enjoying the empowerment of having her at his mercy, and that would take naught but the proximity of her Master and the attention of his fingers.

Her outer folds were remarkably sensitive, perhaps even more so than her depths. Most of the female Pals so far had been more inclined towards a brutal womb-fucking, but [Eikthyrdeer] whined piteously at every trace of his fingertips over the most exposed reaches of her needy cunt. Pink and puffy, he took his time trailing the outermost lips, down to the twitching clit that seemed to splay her cunt with every presenting wink. She didn't need to speak the Human tongue to make it clear that she was beckoning him, and after a while it almost felt cruel to keep tormenting her with pleasure like this. The presentation of her teats felt like a matronly doting, but now she offered her hindquarters with whorish desire.

It brought a name to mind, “Prudence…" Sometimes so governed by discipline and reason, shrewd and cautious, but now quite the opposite, entirely wanton in her need, “That's what I'll name you." He had no idea that the Pals (especially a rather gleeful [Lovander]) would shorten that to 'Prude', but the half-dreaming doe wasn't really thinking that far ahead either. Her senses were fully trained on the heft of her Master's cock as he slowly hilted into her too-wet cunt.

That intense internal temperature washed over him, the velvet heat of cervine pussy wrapped around his bludgeoning cock. Though, there was very little resistance at all. In fact, she was so washed out with the slick of femcum, that there was hardly any friction to be found, and he sank himself to the hilt quickly. He worried for a moment that it would take quite the amount of effort for him to be able to reach orgasm at all, but his mind was quickly put at ease when the next wink of her servile cunt brought with it a rippling wave of her insides, a squeeze that flowed down the length of his maleness in an obliging pleasure. Oh. So that was how it was.

He withdrew, holding back for a moment, and then thrust forth again in counter to the ripple of her insides, the undulating pleasure along his cock enough for the man to give a dull groan of his own, “Fuck… that feels good…" She set the rhythm with her body, arousal and the desire for breeding sending twitching pleasure out from her core, and he responded to that with the force of his pummelling cock. He released her tailbase and grabbed her haunches, her hooves grinding into the ground below as she positioned herself for him, a submissive female offering up her cunt for a breeding from her Master.

It was impossible without [Cake], but her body still instinctively yearned to be impregnated, a heat flowing out from her core evolving into yet another messy femgasm as she doused her dominant male in liquid need. She wanted to cry out to him in some wanton demand that he breed her, her thoughts a shameful litany of whorish want that would surely have made Vanilla insufferably smug should she ever hear them. But pleasure prevented her from putting a single one of them to voice. All that she could do was lose herself to the fantasies rampaging around her head, dreams of her place in the lewd utopia, able to mother the newly hatched Pals, presenting her teats for them to latch onto while her Master fucked her into broken-minded pleasure. That was what she was for. A mother amongst all of his breeding females, doting on not only the charges birthed from her Human-owned cunt, but every Pal that her Master fathered. She would help to teach them their places. Submissive boy-sluts, and doting womb-slaves. She would show them how to properly worship their Master and show proper dedication to the superior Human cock that sired them.

Yes. She would have to be stern with them, but Prudence thought herself quite good at this sort of thing. With so many subservient Pals in his camp, no newly hatched whore should be allowed anywhere near him until they'd been properly trained. Their Master deserved only the best, after all – and no clumsy virgin would be able to compete. She'd have them eating his cum out of the gaped undertails and drooling cunts of the experienced Pals until they had submitted entirely to his taste, made subservient to the scent and flavour of their Master before ever given the chance to present themselves and receive his superior Human cock. How gratifying it would be to watch a male that she had instructed being driven to a ruinous bitchgasm under her Master? Or a female grown strong on her milk cum herself insensate when knocked up by her sire and then wracked with a birthgasm around one of his eggs?

He fucked her through her fantasising, her matronly dreams corrupted by lust into this depraved end state. Everything was clicking into place, and the clearness of the picture she had summoned up swept away any anxiety. This is what she was for. Her Master's doting breeding doe. And the cascade of her orgasm when he finally pumped her full of thick ropes of vulgar Human essence sent her into throes that sent her slipping from the [Primitive Workbench] to collapse onto the floor.

Luke grinned, managing to take a step back as his conquest fell before him, half of his orgasm sprayed over her presented hindquarters as she rolled onto her side. Wonderful. He was far from done after only one climax, and with her collapsed onto her side like this – he realigned his cock to her drooling folds, and reached to the side to lewdly grapple at her [Milk]-wet crotch-tits.

The sight was truly gratifying, the restrained and demure [Eikthyrdeer] reduced to a moaning harlot, her topmost hindleg quivering as she squirted another messy femgasm into his crotch, the milking of her teats adding more to the lewd puddle of assorted sexual fluids beneath them. A lot had soaked into her fur, and she looked a complete mess for it, but it was clear that there was nothing in her head right now but pleasure. Prudence's consciousness swam in a sea of white mist, her rippling insides grasping at the cock that was plundering her desperate cervine cunt. Breed. Breed. Breed. Her heart screamed it out, and from this scrunched up posture, she could feel the battery of his maleness against the entrance to her womb.

It didn't take much of a fight for her cervix to part for him, and before long she had submitted everything to the Human, her Master claiming it all for his own. The greatest pleasure was found at the press of wet skin against her presented folds, the swing of his hefty orbs into her winking clit, but now these womb-plundering thrusts brought with them a glowing satisfaction. She clenched up her core, and was rewarded with another copious orgasm from her Master, his second potent load coming not too long after his first – though now delivered so deeply, the feeling of being so claimed was enough to cut the strings of will that had been holding her up so far, and she crumbled before him in full.

Luke took a deep breath, forcibly exhaling as he righted his breathing. [Eikthyrdeer] had been brought to a well-fucked ruin, and now lay twitching and scarcely-conscious in the mess of [Milk], femslick, and the thick creampie that was now leaking from her lewd cervine cunt. He grinned. That pussy belonged to him now, and now that she had surrendered to him, he'd take his time pummelling it into the shape most gratifying to him. Her crotch-tits were his to make sport of, and considering her doting nature, he imagined that he'd have her muzzle and the puffy doughnut of her undertail soon to enjoy as well. There was a satisfying sense of corruption, but the smile of his claimed doe undercut it all with a wholesomeness that he couldn't deny.

Well, she wasn't going anywhere, and Luke lay against the thick fur of her underside as he made her body into a backrest for himself. The nights were a little chilly, but the warmth of his Pal companion was more than enough to banish the cold, of that much he was certain. So, he gave a yawn which she mirrored, and soon both would be asleep.

And from the clifftops, a pensive [Lovander] observed them, pleased that his plans were advancing apace…

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Man, I really struggled with this one. Normally when I hit a wall, I throw out the whole thing and start over from a fresh angle. But this time, when I hit a point that I was stuck with, I decided to try just hammering away at it until I broke through. The result was an embarrassing number of hours just deleting and rewriting one segment over and over again. I do hope that it turned out okay in the end, though! This piece was made possible thanks to the advice received in Comments, PMs, and over Discord – especially from OddReptile, Cyril Dran, NoNoNope, and AGryphonNamedGriffin (whose own recently launched series can be found here – check him out!). I'm very thankful to all of you for helping me – and for the encouragement and ideas that have come from everywhere. With Eikthyrdeer finally done, next up… well, normally it'd be the turn of a male, but I want to do something with Luke's secret project first, so time for Katress and Wixen! Then we can finally hatch those eggs, with male Beakon up soon, and female Alpha Chillet Ignis eventually. Maybe I should do some father/daughter stuff with her and Mint where he teaches her how to submit? That'll be for the comments to decide! Lovander's brother is still waiting in the wings, too…

Special thanks to Etnom for nudging Eikthyrdeer forward and those outfit ideas (especially construction worker Leezpunk). LuryNeto10 for the kind words of encouragement. EWEW for the support (I hope the doe landed for you!). Cyril Dran for some of the insights and help that got this piece going. NoNoNope for the same – and also the idea of a harness for Direhowl. Oddreptile for pressing for the matronly stuff, and all of the feedback on the 1k, too. ForgeFather that really helped me realise to double down on the fawn adoption stuff (cool to hear from you again, too!). And Nathanwe for the name of Prudence that won out just in time!

As always, thanks for every fave, vote, comment, PM, folder sub (over 60 now, yay!), watch, and every last view as well. I always say this, but I really do appreciate them all – and I was bowled over to find PMs in my inbox as soon a I put in a comment that I was struggling with this one. You guys really are legends, and I hope that you enjoy these stories – they're all for you.

As for the questions this time around… so, how would you go about domming an enormous Pal like Alpha Mammorest (should our often-referenced sentinel be male or female?) or Jormuntide Ignis (male)? I reckon we're probably going to have some big ones soon enough, so I'm keen to hear your thoughts (I really do have Broncherry Aqua in mind from old comments especially). Oh – and I could use a pair of witchy names that are related to each other for Katress and Wixen! Both are female, and next entry they're going to have quite a battle. What better way to settle their rivalry than seeing which can best seduce Master? As for who wins… well, a draw would kinda be a copout. So – you decide! Let me know which is your fave, and we'll put it to a vote.

Have a most excellent day.