Knave
A short story about a hunted hunter.
Frost, dark and cold in the night, blows off from an outstretching branch. A chilled gust whips around the snow covered oak that stands in the dark forest with its brethren, bordering a clearing where a hunt will soon come to its climax...
A brightening light comes from within the forest. Vulpine in heritage, his torch guides him through the woods and thicket into the moonlit clearing. He decided to leave his party behind being that he'd be too easy to track. His pointed ears twitch in the light, poking through the top of his billed hat. He stops, sensing his mark is near, and closes his eyes in focus. Nothing but the nightly ambiance of crickets and wind can be heard as his tail stands stark still over the snow. Vulpine blood courses through his veins like lightning and his refined psyche tells him what his eyes and ears cannot. A chill freezes his blood for a second and his furs begins to stand on end. Now hardly entering the clearing, the truth becomes clear; he is now the one who is being hunted. The tables had turned in the silence and he swallows hard at the irony. The light from the blazing torch is settled upright in the snow, giving the hunter's surroundings another layer of intensity from the low positioned light as the hunter gains full range of his gloved paws. Eyes still closed, his focus becomes like a taught rope of a fine sailing ship, necessary to assure this mission's success or, at least, his survival. The surrounding air becomes thin and tense like a long, single note played on a viola. Silence blankets the area in a false calm as the hunter's trained focus wins him his still intact throat. He opens his eyes to find himself dashing backwards from a large, muscular, dark and furred forearm. Darting his eyes to the monolithic claws that cap the humongous slab of muscle. The hunter juts his arms above him and lets his weight pull him backwards into a handspring. After the maneuver, four or five paces are left between the two and leaving enough space for the area to breath again.
The hunter sees it now; his mark, as it stands in the brazen light of the torch, letting the madly flickering flame expose its full visage. It is massive and far more so than the rumors had paid favor. As tall as a young tree yet as thick as an ancient oak, the hunter stares back at the cold, dark eyes of the beast. It wasn't until nearly too late that he noticed the beast's presence; and its claws were none the farther. Those same dark claws glint in the torchlight, testing their sharpness in the cold air surrounding the beast. The hunter trains his eye on each and every inch of lethality standing before him. The snow underfoot stops at its ankles and nothing more. Steady trunks of muscle and fur keep it upright while the calmly waving tail behind it keeps its balance. Statuesque abdominal muscles sit unmoving below its massive and heaving chest. Its pectorals, like granite, spread across the ends of said chest while the hunter's gaze moves outwards to its broad shoulders. Long, dark arms leak down from each side where the familiar claws flinch and clench, testing the air again. A sudden gust brings the hunter's senses back to his own standing as an unfamiliar scent wafts by. He's pinned, and by a lycanthrope by God's curse. The labyrinth-like forest behind him is the beast's home, it would tear him to shreds before he could even turn to run for the wood and the openings to his sides are valid but a death wish when attempting to run away. There no luck in waiting for an opening he thinks, he must make one.
As if on queue, the two slightly crouch as they sense each other's intentions. The lycan licks its black lips and tugs them up into a quiet snarl. It then flinches and snarls louder as a metallic ring shatters the silence. The ring of a silver short blade being quickly unsheathed in the night. Though the blade is short and has no guard, the hunter has faith in his trusty and tricky weapon. Moon and torchlight bounce off the blade held back hand and eye level by the hunter with its tip trained at the beast's pounding heart. Enraged by the gall of the hunter and his brandished silver, the beast inhales deeply through its nostrils. Its chest swells with icy air and its throat expands to let out a beastly howl that seemed the crack the night sky. His ears laid back in an attempt to protect his hearing, the hunter lowers himself a bit more before starting his calculated dash towards his mark. Time slows relative to the hunter and his thoughts race like lightning. His goal: To survive. His options: Make an opening to retreat or maim the beast for later capture. The latter would prove to be more profitable but the former secures his life for future hunts. Confident in his plan, the hunter finds himself at the optimal range for an accurate slash at the beasts jugular. He leaps and glides through the air like an arrow, his blade slicing the air around it and ready to cut deep into the lycan's thick, pulsing artery.
Half a foot lied before the blade and its mark would meet before the right of the idle arms of the beast hooks straight up with pointed claws. Mimicking the arrow like qualities of the hunter, the beast aims to impale the hunter upwards through his chest as its claws thrust in brutal savagery. Quicker than a flash of light or the lycan's reaction speed, the hunter had somersaulted in the air before the beast, positioning one foot on the bend of the offending arm and the other on the connected shoulder, stepping up as if on a staircase. Knowing his footing is firm, the hunter jumps off the beasts upper body and high into the empty air above his target. As it looked up to the hunter, at least two of its own height must have been between the two. The hunter, now twisting through the air, flips the blade in his paw into the front hand position, reaches behind his back only to whip the blade faster than sound through the air and down towards the beast. All the beast sees a flash of moonlight bouncing of the silver blade before it plunges deep into its left shoulder. The true value of the wound only halted by the lycan's thick and layered muscle. Barking at the sudden pain in its shoulder, the beast uses its free right paw to clutch the blade's handle but just as it does, it lets out a pain filled howl. The hunter's tricky weapon had its anchoring system activated. Hidden mechanisms on either side of the blade exposed its serrated edges and would make the removal of the offending object too damaging to continue its hunt. Absolute rage burned in its eyes, looking up at the hunter. This gaze gave away another of the weapons tricks as a long chain jingled in the air above it and connected the blade to a spiked ball in the hunter's other paw. The hunter seized his opportunity and landed deftly behind the beast still holding his ball and chain.
Releasing the handle of the blade, the beast turns around completely while swiping his claws out to gouge the hunters throat but the hunter wasn't new to his profession. He sweeps under the claw and behind the beast again. And again, the beast turns to swipe while the hunter continues to wrap around the chains a second time. Once again behind the beast, the hunter kicks at the bend of one of the muscle armored legs before him. With its steadiness wavered, the beast leans back only to feel the full reeling the hunter gave his chain. From behind, the hunter was able to yank his chain with enough force to have the staggered lycan fall backwards onto the snow. Whiteness blinds the two for a split second as the previously undisturbed snow plumes above them both, brought up by the sheer impact of the beast hitting the ground. The hunter deftly shoulder rolls away form the beast, leaving at least three or four paces between them.
Without hesitating, the hunter grabs his flare gun from its holster and aims up at the sky. Knowing his party may not be able to see through the thick canopy of the wood, he aims at the direction he came from. Just before he can fully train his sights above the most probable visible area, sparks flash in front of his muzzle and he's taken aback. Slightly dazed, he replayed what just happened in his head. The fresh memory replays in front of his mind's eye. Right before the hunter could get his bead, he sees what looks like his own blade. Thrown so expertly, he watches as the edge of the blade cuts deep into the barrel, hindering the weapon's use. The silver was drenched in dark blood, and he watched the mental replay over and over. The blade comes into frame and repeats the disciplined technique, causing a blinding flash. No. How? That technique... He didn't have time to wonder as he positioned his arm again and pulled the trigger with a worrying click... nothing. No party alerting flare had spouted from the muzzle. No reassuring blaze was sent off into the night sky to alert his party that he is in trouble. The hunter pulls the trigger a second time then a third in quick succession. It dawned on him that no help would be coming. In desperation, he began to wonder how his own blade flew through the air to damage the gun in the first place. The familiar ring of his chain blade derailed his train of thought. He turned his head to look at the knife that was again flying through the air from the opposite side and, as if time were slowed yet again, he watched as another high level technique was employed against him. This one he had yet to master himself; to pivot the blade before it looses all velocity, turning the blade 180 degrees in mid air and calling it back to its master with an impossiblly skilled hand.
The hunter's mind had been shattered. His own weapon turned against him by an unknown assailant, skills he couldn't grasp yet executed flawlessly as if ancient scrolls were playing like a video in front of him. Unable to move as fast as his thoughts could, the hunter was brought back to reality as he heard the clear whistling of his blade slicing the icy air and the rattling of a spinning chain. Slowly, so slowly, he turns his head to look at the beast... standing straight up in the snow... completely untangled from the trap... and twirling his silver blade and chain in complicated and eccentric formations... as if it had trained with it longer than the hunter himself. His breath left him.
"Quite the dexterous weapon you have..." Deep, brooding, and bone-rattling was the voice of the lycan. If there was any air left in the hunter's lungs after the first surprise, there certainly wasn't any now. "Enough of these games." It spoke again just before plunging the knife into the snow and dropping the chain along side it. "I only enjoy playing AFTER the hunt." As his thunderous voice receded, static began to fill the air around them both. The hunter could smell ozone cover the initial unfamiliar scent that lingered since the beginning of the altercation.
"M... Magic too?" The hunter stammered, paralyzed in shock and disbelief. Absolute awe held the hunter down and a blue glow of magical lightning coated the lycan's enormous paws. Paralyzed, he stood in the snow as he watched as the lycan make runic sigils in the air in front of itself nor could the hunter move as he heard an incantation that he had known himself. The beast waved its arms in magnificent arcs and traced skillful matrices in the frigid, night air.
"The hymn... of static sleep.... How do you-..." he was interrupted by a lack of consciousness. Blackness took him. Another plume of delicate snow erupts from the ground and settles around the body of a baffled hunter.
Piercing cold on flesh and insidious danger on his nerves yanks the hunter back into consciousness. He sputters and coughs as his eyes bolt open. Chains clang above him as his instinct drives him to reach for his blade but the attempt is for naught. His arms, barren of armor or clothing, are strung up above him in shackles and a large nail sticks out from a rocky cave wall behind him, anchoring his bindings to the stone wall. Still grunting, the hunter takes his surroundings in; a spacious cave lit by a bonfire roaring a few paces in front of him. Behind the fire on the other side of the cave, a giant bookcase lines the entire wall. Books and scrolls are practically spilling from it. Some more literature litters a number of desktops that seem to lead into a corridor, allowing access to the caves deeper parts. He felt no wind, smelled no wood, so he knew that he wasn't near the entrance of the cave. He and his party hadn't even passed a cave on their way to meet the beast. He was completely lost and his party... however brief or extensive the encounter had been, were unreachable. One thing remained familiar in his surroundings. The ironically unfamiliar yet alerting scent that had wafted through the clearing before he charged the beast. The beast! The magic... That technique with his weapon! It all came rushing back to him causing him to attempt to stand upright. The attempt only left him falling back on his bum. His legs were weak with inexplicable exhaustion. How long had he been unconscious? His tail buffeted against the cave wall as the hunter looked at his own predicament. Bound, confused, and... he lowers his gaze onto himself... stark naked. An unprecedented haziness takes his mind and leaves his fur standing on end. He goes over the events again and again, unable to make sense of how the things that had just happened had come to fruition. The sudden haziness keeping him from being able to fully clarify his thoughts.
"A dream? Maybe... a hallucination? An illusion? What the hell is going on!?" He bellows into the empty cave. Silence takes the cave again, only leaving the crackling of the bonfire.
"Ahh. You're awake. Good~" a deep voice resonates through the cave and snaps the hunter out of his shock.
"Wha- Who's there!? Who are you?! Show yourself!" the enraged hunter rattles his chains loudly and looks about his immediate area, unable to find the source the voice.
"You're not in a position to be making demands, hunter." the voice finds its master exiting the corridor, tracing a dark claw over the books he passes by. Draped in a simple black robe with a matching hood, the tall figure continues into the room, its spaded tail whipping gracefully behind him and its face hidden behind a veil of shadows. The hunter stops his noise and darts his stare at the hooded creature as that unfamiliar scent embraces the cave. His fur flinches and tingles causing his breath to catch and leaving him suddenly winded.
"Who... what are you? And..." he wriggles uncomfortably on the ground, "... that smell... its sickening." The hunter snarls as his muzzle begins to flush. "Are you in control of that beast that's been attacking the other hunters? How does it kno-"
"Excuse yourself, knave! My musk is proud and intoxicating. Even... potent." the hooded figure raises a clawed digit, clad in dark red scales, and uses it to lower the shadowy hood down to further conceal its own visage.
"To Hell with your potency! A.." he pants briefly before continuing, "A hunter has no needs for such... such cursed intoxicants!" Now fully blushing, the hunter knew exactly what his "musk" was doing. Between his legs vainly crossed in shame, his bright pink fox cock stands erect, twitching every now and again. His decent knot still hidden behind a furred sheath and a hefty sack sits beneath on the chilly cave floor.
"Quite the equipment you have there, knave. Hmm... Knave. That'll be your new name then." the hooded figure kneels down before the hunter as its tail whips over its shoulder. "Do you like that, Knave?" He cooed, the point of the spade at the end of its tail giving a quick flick under the hunters chin.
"Enough games!" He shouts, jerking his chin back. Taking his chances, the hunter swipes one of his free legs at the hooded figures head only for it to be caught in its powerful clutch.
"I agree!" the creature growls loudly as its other clawed hand grips around the hunters throat. "Your name is Knave.... say it." it growled quietly this time. The hunter remains silent, one leg off to the side of the kneeling creature and the other still trembling slightly in its grip. "I said..." the creature tightens its grip around the hunter's throat, only allowing enough air for a whisper. He gasps a bit, fear coursing freely through his veins now. He goes over his options in vain, thinking rapidly of any way to get out of this alive. He gulps hard through his constricted throat and gasps again. The hunter shuts his eyes tightly, "I am.... my name... is Knave.." he manages to whisper. The stranger's face is still hidden but the newly named Knave could tell it was smiling.. or its own equivalent.
Just then, the creature yanks Knave into its own muzzle by his throat. Simply bumping lips at this point, Knave opens his mouth to protest whatever the creature is doing but only to be interrupted by a thick, wet and mouth filling tongue. The formerly known hunter grunts at this sudden intrusion but is unable to move his jaw any further. The creatures tongue unnaturally curls and furls inside of the fox's maw, coating everything in a thick, viscous daemonic saliva. Still gripping Knave's ankle and throat tightly, the creature continues his assault. The purple tinged spit begins to seep from the sides of their interlocked mouths and down their chins. He groaned and grunted but felt his strength beginning to waiver. The longer they embraced, the more Knave could feel his strength leaving him. Weak tingling was all that was left of his strength while the burning in his loins increased. He was finally released from the kiss with loud gasp. Knave panted heavily, still being lightly strangled by the creature. It's purplish saliva had made its drooling way down his lightly muscled chest and abs, leaving a long shiny streak of moisture. The hooded creature also takes its breath, allowing its tongue to hang out of maw in lust. Its breathes filled with lust and its anonymity sparks legitimate fright in Knave.
"You taste exactly how I imagined, Knave. It was just the fight that I had to rid you of before I could really enjoy myself. You could have left me quite cut up if I hadn't of reacted faster. Maybe even dead if you had alerted your party." it licks its lips, allowing the a glint across its scaly lips. Still panting and dripping, Knave looks up at the creature. Only being able to see the stranger's moist lips leads the hunter's sharp keen into the realization that this had all been planned.
"How..." he starts weakly, "How did-"
"I won't have you speaking so freely Knave!" the creature's somber yet quaking voice interrupts while bringing Knave's captured leg up above his head. This movement causes the fox to slump down with his back now on the floor, his arms raised above his head, his legs useless to the sides of the stranger, and his plump button of flesh exposed to the light. He struggles as hard as he can in the grip of his captor and the chains holding him up, but to no avail. His waning strength fails him and he falls limp in the stranger's hold again. He was simply too weak at this point. No armor. No weapons. Not even free range to move and no clear idea as to what is going on other than his blatant helplessness and growing need. He was entirely vulnerable and his foggy mind couldn't manifest any clear instinct other than begging lust. Never had he been in such a situation; one that he had never trained for. Strung up, helpless, hexed with lust and desire. Cringing as the feeling set his loins ablaze. The creature lets out a mixture of a hiss and chuckle, seeing its new to made it eager to play. As if on command, his musk tripled in strength and tangibility. The air in the surrounding area became soupy and hot. The lust was absolutely palpable as it tossed Knave's libido in its thralls. He began to pant harder, his tongue lolling out in exasperation and his knot now fully exposed to the warming cave air. His cock continued to twitch, bobbing in anticipation and need between the two. Precum begins to trail down his cock, tracing his thick vein.
The hooded creature sighs heavily, allowing its long and prehensile tongue to slowly makes its way to the leaking tip of the fox's cock and clean the involuntary mess he had made. "Your body betrays you... or, does it simply know to beg its master for pleasure. Pleasure, of course, being relative. We shall both know how relative soon." At that, the creature slowly lowers its hooded head down towards Knave's vulnerable sphincter. Almost with care, it circles the outer rim of the fox hole with its slimy, purple tongue. Knave cringes in his shackles but is left helpless, feeling surges of teasing pleasure pulse through him. The sensitive button twitches, unable to recoil from the assault of pleasure. The creature continues around the supple mound of flesh until its slick tongue presses against the beckoning entrance. The hooded figure gently pushes. And pushes. And pushes a little harder each time, never fully penetrating until, on the fifth or sixth push, the tip of, its thick, lubricated tongue enters Knave. He gasps and rattles his shackles, "S-S-Stop! Now!" Knave shouts. Only spurred by his toy's inexplicable pride and gall to speak to his captor that way, the creature tightens its grip around his throat and wriggles his lube laden tongue deeper into him. So slow and nerve-tingling, the same intruding tongue that claimed his maw is now inside of him again, drenching his insides in purple saliva. It twists and coils, pushing further and further, past the first inner chamber of Knave's colon and flexes hard against his prostate.
Silent gasps and slick, wet sounds echo through the cave. The fox's cock had grown swollen with need as precum leaks steadily down his length and onto his taught sack. Now deeper in him than he'd ever known, the creature's tongue wriggles and worms deep into Knave's fourth inner chamber. After the extensive excavation of the bound fox had done been complete, the creature begins to retract its lengthy and teasing flesh, allowing himself the pleasure of feeling the loosened muscle flex around its tendril-like tongue. As it would slip past the rings of muscle throughout the sodden colon, every small pop caused Knave to twitch in brimming pleasure as the heavily drenched tongue slides out of the one.. pop... two... pop... three... pop... four violated saliva coated chambers. The tapered tip of the tongue finally leaves his well loosened hole while excess lubricant leaks from it. The leaking doesn't stop though. Like a faucet left just a tad loose, the excessive amount of drool the creature so generously left inside of Knave practically has two of his chambers filled to the brim.
The creature's grip on Knave's throat had loosened a bit though he didn't have the strength to speak. Small gasps and whimpers were all he could muster as his filled colon pushes against his buzzing prostate. After the ravishing of his insides, the panting fox had to use the most keen of his mental ability to keep from losing himself. Years of training had solidified his grasp on his psyche yet, never has he had to fight so hard to keep it from failing him. Calm and Control; His master's words echoed in his head.
"I must find out... I must... try..." the hunter thought to himself. "I have to see... what... this bastard.... is...!" With newly found zeal, Knave steeled himself and focused on the darkness concealing his captors face. Instinct contracts his pupils to try and find a hint of the creatures origin or heritage. Some definition became clear as the fox regained his focus. Dark red scales plated its face and its tongue was spouting from slick black lips. A short muzzle with nostrils, reptilian in nature, grinned as the last bit of its tongue receded.
"I know what you're asking yourself. I can smell your fear of the unknown... of me... Though we've only just met, your memories must as fresh as the snow I first fell in." The small amount of muzzle showing began to shift. The hue of the dark red scales mixed into itself and was replaced with a dark brown. That shade of fur took over the previous scales and a black and wet canine nose took its place at the tip. "You're not a bad fighter after all. The chain blade is a very difficult weapon to use without maiming oneself." At the mention of that, Knave gasped in realization as the creature trembled and chuckled. Its form began to stretch the dark robes wrapping it, splitting its seams and all together tearing away the disguise. The ribbons of cloth fell off the growing form of the mysterious creature. In a split moment, the familiar beast that had bested Knave was before him again. The claws around the fox's ankle and throat grew in size and completely changed from smooth scales to course, dark-gray and brown fur. The Adonis like build of the lycan appeared before Knave like before. Crouching low and keeping a strong hold on the shocked fox's throat and ankle.
At this distance, the fox could clearly see how in depth and powerful the beast's physique was. Face to face with his defeater, Knave lets out a small whimper as he lays his eyes on the massive pillar of flesh now standing proudly between him and the beast. It twitched with the strong pulse of the lycan heart in its chest. The hot flesh hid pulsing veins, emanating heat that thickened the air around them both with the powerful musk that was now filling the cave. A thick dollop of precum beads on top of the canine tool. Its swollen figure would take no less than three paws to fully wrap around and no less than seven to match its length. At the bottom of the monument of testosterone, the beginnings of what must be a massive knot peak out of its sheath. Lying in wait for the proper attention to bring it forth.
Two grapefruit sized orbs can be felt pushing against Knave's own contrasting endowments. Just from their positioning, they keep the fox's package aloft and resting on the large, pulsing sack. They twitch hard, sending a glop of precum through the length and spouting out of the creatures shiny, pointed tip, landing squarely on Knave's face and muzzle. It trickles down and around his jaw, only to allow the thick glob to fall and coat the fox's own cock in hot lycan cum. The sensation of wet and warmth involuntarily brings a louder gasp out of Knave who pants in fear and desire. Terror and lust course through his body after the creature's transformation.
"You were the beast... the entire time... of course..." The panting fox manages to groan. Every breath only filled his lungs with musk, causing a bit of drool to escape his maw. The beast notices and licks its black lips before giving Knave a long lick over his muzzle. It cleans off its mess and swallows it well.
"I'll be showing you exactly what kind of beast I am, Knave. There's so many things I want to show you." It chuckles deeply and looks down and its own tool. "Now," the familiar thundering voice fills the cave, "The first of these things will leave you... rather worn." It grasps its tool with its free paw and lowers it, dragging its precum covered tip down Knave's chest, around his cum-covered cock, and under his furred sack. The tip finds its target, the sodden button of lubricated flesh, freshly used, moist, and still quivering. Unable to put up anymore fight, Knave's hole betrays him as it warmly welcomes the pointed tip of the lycan's burning hot cock; and pressed past the fox's abused prostate. Penetrated again, Knave's insides swoon with bliss as he moans, undoubtedly in pleasure, and the expanding girth of the monster's cock's advances.
As pressure builds, Knave short gasps become hotter and heavier. Still about half filled with slippery drool, the pressing flesh causes some of the creature's liquids to seep out between its pulsing cock and the flexing fox hole. The creature chuckles and slowly pushes deeper into him, plugging the passage of saliva and precum and causing the surrounding muscle to twitch and spasm. After allowing the first four inches of cockflesh to pass the fox's ring of muscle, the rest of the widening tool slowly slides past the soaked inner walls. A longer, harder push follows causing inch after steaming hot inch to grind into the fox's hole and stretch it more than the creature's tongue had. The entrance to the second chamber inside the fox's colon began welcome the tip of the lycan's swelling cock. The worn ring, already robbed of its integrity, allows itself to stretch again around the creature's meat and swallows it deeper and deeper. A few inches of hot pink flesh are all that's left between the quaking fox and panting beast before him.
Knave, feeling that the monster's advances had ceased, grabs hold of his conscience again. Still breathing hard and feeling his insides burn with friction and stretched flesh, moans tightly as his prostate spasms again. The bound fox glances down and realizes a truth that had been waiting, biding its time. The now exposed knot shimmered brightly in cum and spit. It pulsed and pushed against the stretched fox hole, begging for entrance. A long breath was exhaled from the creature as it felt Knave wrapped around his cock so nice and tight. The bulging knot still waiting patiently on the outside of the well heated hole, the length of the beast's cock took up the entirety of the first two chambers inside of Knave's colon. The liquids squelched and settled around the fleshy intruder, keeping the surrounding warmth from dying down a single degree. Now hotter and more filled than ever, the panting hunter begins to moan again. A sucking began inside of him and the creature starts to pull its hips back, threatening to release a tide of liquids upon the warming cave floor underneath them. Muscle and inner flesh smoothly rubbed against the expansive cock and pulled back together when it could. More flesh slowly exited the fox as it pulled itself out, leaving the fox's second chamber half empty and well heated. Purple spittle spurted out of the plugged hole and kept the column of flesh drenched and oiled.
Feeling it had let enough of Knave's insides attempt to regain their tension, the lightly panting lycan roughly pushes itself back into the fox's abused entrance and fills the emptying chamber with its hot pressure again. Its knot bounces against Knave's blushing hole as he is filled again and pulls a long moan out of him. A familiar sucking repeated inside of him as the motion began again. A retreating pull drags out more of the mixed liquids and splash out as another viscous thrust refills the fox. The repeating of the motion continues, small whimpers echo off the cave walls as Knave's hole continues to expand and retract. Every thrust ending with another bounce of the ever-swelling knot. Thrust after thrust after thrust, Knave's whimpers become moans and yelps while a quarter of the creature's knot fits into him. Another assault of thrusts let's Knave stretch around half of the burning hot knot that has half plunged into him again and again. Every thrust splashes out more of the slick purple tinted mixture of drool and cum. The barrage halts again and the thick, swollen lycan cock seemed to have double in girth since the beginning of the powerful rutting. With his chambers filled again, Knave felt his own cock swelling with lust and blood as his pressured prostate spams after every thrust.
The creature lets the tip of its cock tease the entrance to the third chamber of the fox's colon. It pulsed and swelled in anticipation as its knot stretched the fox's heated ring of muscle again. Beginning with a solid grinding, a monstrous thrust follows soon afterwards, having the fox's colon greedily swallow the rest of the knot and wrap tightly around the end of it. Knave howls in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He could imagine the entirety of the lycan cock inside of him, throbbing hard and leaking copiously. He could feel the liquids inside of him shift and maneuver around the bestial shaft, keeping his insides as wet and warm as the cock inside of him. Still panting, he looks down and notices a small bulge had formed just above his cock. Every throb of the knot prodded his prostate to a faux orgasm. Every nerve was firing but there was no release for the filled and swollen fox, no climax, only cock. He tried to catch his breath, finally feeling like there wasn't any further the creature could dominate him.
Now panting a bit heavier, the lycan lets out a satisfied moan having his entire knot finally pop into the fox and fill him to the brim with cum. Plugged even more effectively by swollen bulb of cockflesh, quarts of cum flow deep into the fox's colon and causes the bulge to swell further. The pleasured lycan pushes a claw tepidly into the bulge forming above Knave's cock and chuckled as the fox couldn't help but let out a moan almost as loud as his previous howl. He licks his lips as the fox's teary eyes moved from the beast's furrowed brow down to his own entrance. Knave's jaw dropped and a pair of tears trace his cheeks. Between the fox's hole and the base of the creature's crotch was another, slightly larger but just as need-filled, steaming hot knot.
"O.... Oh gods.... Oh no..." Knave whimpered in a shaky voice.
"Oh, but yes~" The creature breathes as begins to pick itself up onto his knees, releasing Knave and leaving both paws free. As he erected himself, Knave's flesh tightly filled hole kept him connected to the beast. It brought its hips back and caused Knave to lie completely on his back, his arms still shackled above his head and his legs above him, spread far apart and bent at the knee for the beast's final plunging. The creature's massive form was over Knave now, covered completely in its shadow and lust. It smiles above its toy, locking eyes with the whimpering, shivering Knave. An involuntary flex of the fox's colon creates a thick ring of cum between the bulbous knots, as if preparing a slick entrance for the swelling, throbbing second. Every pulsation of lycan cock causes the fox's entire body to jerk with it, eliciting small whimpers from Knave. He watches his growing belly jiggle along with him, fearing the impending increase in size he will soon experience. The lycan tests the elasticity of the fox with another push. Readily, Knave's rectal ring slips around a small portion of the second knot. Another small push expands it further, feeling little tightness grip around the massive bulb. Without any retreat, he feels the beast's knot reach its peak girth, groaning hard, feeling like he will soon be split in two. Finally, with a single and brutal push, Knave swallows a second knot, pushing hard against the first and filling the four lubricated chambers with cum and cock.
Uncontrollable moans escape Knave's throat they both begin to ejaculate. The fox's hot, white streams shoot up and fall onto his own swollen belly. Heat and pressure fill him further as the two knots keep any of the unloading cum from spilling out of him. As if a dam had burst, the searing liquid gushes into the fox's insides with nowhere else to go. The flow gives continuously as if the beast's cock was a fountain, the stream not dying down in the least. The beast keeps its cock deep inside of Knave cumming and howling furiously into the cave. The fox's already bloated form only became more so as gallons of cum gathered in his expanding bulge. The initial geyser of cum hardly died down before the second less intense yet still as filling stream began. The howling lycan continued to deposit its load into its ever filling toy, feeling its sack flex and contract. A third spout began, then a fourth. The number of pumps was unforgiving and relentlessly engorging. Knave lost count at ten, watching his belly fill and his mind melt. The creature gave up counting at fifteen, feeling its once swollen and used balls releasing the last of their seed into Knave's drenched insides.
Its tongue lolls out in exhausted pleasure, looking down at the now positively pregnant looking toy. It raised a paw and rubbed the poor fox's belly as he let out a pathetic excuse for a moan, also exhausted and worn. After catching its breath, the beast uses both paws to grab onto Knave's sides to begin wrenching its spent cock from his innards. Ignoring his toys uncomfortable grunts, it's first few tugs found that the second knot was still very swollen. A few more attempts splash out some of the hot liquid inside the fox, allowing excess cum to make the next attempt successful in removing the second knot. With an audible and slick pop it became free and another splash of cum and slippery drool was released from Knave's stretched hole. The mess spills over, pouring down his legs, back, belly, balls and cock, coating his fur and genitals in a thick layer of hot lycan cum. The fox shuts his eyes tightly as another moan escapes him, feeling the slick liquid drool all over him. Another tug came, then a strong second tug releases the initial intruding knot. The rest of the hardly deflating lycan cock slipped out of Knave so quickly, it left the fox's back to fall onto the puddle of cum that had gathered under him.
Suddenly empty of throbbing meat, Knave gasps and pants loudly in the musk filled cave. His chains jangle lightly and his hole drools cum only kept warm by his ravished insides. It puddles and cools on the ground around him. He finally opens his eyes again, looking up at the familiar and enormous beast in front of him, now standing straight up. Its cock drips and seeps a solid string of residual cum that adds to the copious amount on the floor. His vision begins to darken and fade. With exhaustion taking him slowly, he mumbles the best he can, "Who... what.... are... you?"
The creature flicks an ear and idly strokes his spent cock, "All in do time Knave... all in due time." Silence takes the cave as Knave passes out in front of his mysterious and powerful captor.
-To be Continued