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"I've never had a bitch that can take it all so well." He growled, grinding his hips with his knot locked tightly in her womb. His cock didn't stop pumping until she looked well beyond a healthy pregnancy. Yet that spark of life and excitement never left her eyes.

Much to his surprise, she surged up and encircled his neck with her arms. She pulled him down onto her stretched belly and kissed him passionately. Her touches were not those of denial and resistance but of deep, abiding adoration.

"Never... in all my life..." She murmured, caressing his muzzle, "You do realize I will never let you leave my web, yes?"

He immediately felt furious at her trying to command him. Still, the fantastic lightness to his balls and the complete satiation of his need to mate cooled the emotions a bit. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, focusing on the delight of his knot being so tightly tied inside a well-bred bitch. He nodded, "I've never had a female like you before. I have not the desire to find another. I've been through so many and have never found one that could... remain conscious."

The Broodmother grinned a devious grin, and her eyes blazed, "Remain conscious? I fight for mates that can remain alive! All so weak before, and now here I am... at your mercy."

"Yes, you are." He growled, his dick twitching inside the bulging lake of semen it was stuck in.

She pulled him in for another kiss, and the forest slowly quieted around them. For the first time in the lives of Wolf and Broodmother, they fell asleep with all their desires and wants fulfilled.

*******

Silence reigned over the forest. After the sounds that had permeated it the day before and the ferocity that shook the leaves from the trees, what creatures remained nearby were still and quiet. It was something that had never occurred before. Through the light of day and into the darkness of the next evening, silence reigned until the moon's light came into the sky. Then a soft chanting broke it all.

Deep in the darkest corner of the woods, thirteen women stood in a circle around a moonlight flame. The gigantic stump of an ancient tree held the flickering silver tongues as they swayed and rose. The chanting came from the voices of the women, all in eerie unison.

These women were in all different stages of life. Most were wrinkled crones with wispy hair and knobbly knuckles, but a couple were middle-aged, and one was as young as a newly fertile teen. All of them were wrapped in the same attire: thin brown robes adorned with silvery runes stitched around the edges and seams. The witches of the wood they were known as among the many races that inhabited the forest.

"The flames show us the truth of what has happened." The eldest witch said, raising her hands over the forest. A bangle of jewels on her wrist clattered, and power flowed from her to touch the silvery flames.

Color blossomed in the center of the fire and spread outward, producing an image in the feathery tendrils. Laying amid a torn gossamer mess was the sweat-shone, ebony body of a gorgeous spider broodmother. The spider's legs were splayed, and the broodmother's chest was heaving with exertion. Laying across the spider's form was the muscular, powerful body of a young alpha wolf. His luxurious fur was stuck up, and his dick was laying flaccid across the broodmother's body, cum still drooling from it. His seed was all over her. It soaked into the soil beneath them, and clearly still leaked out of her engorged slit.

"The balance of the forest has been shifted." The eldest witch said, her voice growling with discomfort.

The chanting slowed, and the flames froze suddenly. A still image of the two entwined, lustful bodies was visible to the entire circle.

"What shall we do, elder?" Another witch asked, looking from the flames to the eldest.

"If this is a union of a malicious nature, we cannot allow it to proceed. The wolf packs or the spider families cannot be allowed to gain the power of the other with power or hatred in mind." The eldest witch said with cold pragmatism in her voice.

"And if it is not malicious?" A younger witch asked, her face softly flushed from the image before her.

The eldest witch waved a hand, and the moonlight flame disappeared like a soft breeze blew it away. She snapped her fingers, and a pale pink fire appeared in the center of the stump. Immediately, a flicker of desire and lust came over each of them and passed slowly. She pointed to it, "If it is not malicious, but a mating born of love and desire, then it will be allowed. An ancient ritual not used in many seasons: The Fucking Fire. It will purify and anoint those who hold true passion within them but will utterly destroy them if they should harbor selfish desires for the other."

"Really...?" The young witch breathed heavily, blinking in surprise at the small lust flame.

"Yes. Now we must go prepare the ritual grounds. All of you gather your ritual belongings. The Fucking Fire will not be simple." The eldest witch broke the circle, and the grove around the ancient stump dimmed.

The witches split up and went about gathering ritual ingredients as instructed by a few of the elder witches. They came together in a single file line, led by the eldest among them, and walked through the woods to the long, low valley deep in the woods.

The Eldest witch directed them into setting up ritual totems around the vast stone pit in the middle of the valley floor. They took silver blades and etched emblems into the stone and lit small flames beneath each totem.

"Come together, sisters. Gather here with me." The Eldest witch said from the edge of the stone. She held out her hands and joined with the others, "We will call them. The wolves and the spiders alike. All tribes must gather here in this valley to witness what has happened and what must happen."

The other witches nodded in agreement and began to chant their low spell. The flame beneath the totems flickered as the wind shifted around them. A soft beacon of light appeared in the middle of the circle, floating above the stone pit. It began to rise into the air and high up in the sky. It reached the cloud level and snapped into a bright flare that streaked across the sky.

In minutes, the first spiders began to trail out of the woods. A few wolves soon came after them. The call of the witches of the wood was irresistible and all-encompassing. All tribes observed their power and accepted their law, for it was the fairest that the forest knew. The witches maintained balance better than any war. So they all knew better than to start a fight when they had been called.

Before the moon had even wholly risen, the tribes had gathered, and the witches stood at each ritual totem, staring outward at the gathered spiders and wolves. The eldest called to them, "Would the wolf and spider who shared a time of mating come forward?"

Those words set off a cacophony of rage and confusion through the masses. Wordless shouting and fury came as all of the crowds surged forward. The witches raised their hands in unison, and there was a flare of silver moonlight around them in a blinding wall. It disappeared as quickly as it came, and the gathered tribes were stunned into silence.

Before they could speak again, a gorgeous broodmother and a tall, powerful wolfman stepped out of the masses. They walked forward to the eldest witch, and she addressed them, "You two are accused of breaking the balance of the wood. You will be put to trial, and it will be seen if your bond will be allowed. Sisters, begin the ritual..."

The forest is alive with chanting, howling, and chittering. An unprecedented union has the entire ecosystem turned upon its head. A wolf stud and a spider breeder have entwined in union, and no one is happy about it. The two on trial gaze upwards from the ritual pit, where pitch and wood line the surface. His paw holds her leg, squeezing it as he declares his intentions to the elders.

Witches from the forest loom over the pit. Behind them, the wolves and the spiders watch, eyeing each other between moments of ritual observation.

The oldest of the crones raises her withered hand, and through her gummy mouth, proclaims, “You are to enter into the trial of fucking fire. Long have we hags used the flames to test our lovers’ desires for us. Those who were repulsed by us and sought us only for power were consumed by the flames. But those who truly loved us were spared, spurred on by the flames of passion. Tonight, you two shall prove your love for one another, or burn and be a forgotten blight on the history of your tribes.”

The wolf nods and the spider chitters, each raising arms into the air in a show of solidarity.

With that, the witches chant their last incantations, flames erupting from beneath them, traveling down into the pit in arcane marks that burst into explosive flame.

The two turn towards one another. The spider lays upon her back, her breasts and her sex on display for everyone. The wolf lines himself up, falling upon her, their bodies pressing together as fire engulfs them.

As the smoke rises up into the starlit sky, the watchers all hold their breath. The roaring flames and choking smoke keep them from seeing or hearing anything, but soon, those initial bursts die down, and the sight, the sound, and the smell wafts up with the embers.

The spider gasps with each thrust going into her. The wolf grunts with each shove of his cock. Their bodies rock on the burning ground, knocking coals and sparking more flames with their dance.

The witches frown, looking at each other. One of the wolves leans in and asks. “What’s the matter, crone?”

“They should have finished by the time the flames wane,” the witch replies. “No one, not even the most passionate of lovers, should be able to last that long! The fucking fire should inflame their desires to the point where they’ll climax before the fire ends!”

“What does this mean?” the head spider asks, clacking her mandibles together.

“We don’t know,” another witch says.

The grunts and the moans rising up from the bottom of the hole draw more and more of the spectators closer. They watch, entranced by the power and stamina of the wolf, and the endurance and passion of the spider.

“So, should we make them stop?” One wolf asks, looking to one friend. That wolf shrugs.

“No, we must see if the fire still burns them!” one spider snaps back.

“How much longer could they be down there.

From below, the spider cries out, “More, more, oh gods, right there with your huge fucking cock, you beeasst!”

The lead witch scratches her chin. “Could be… quite a while yet. But, the ritual cannot be broken, or we shall all be cursed, so… watch, we shall.”

And watch they do. They listen and watch, and wait. They watch as the wolf slams to the hilt into her. They watch as his knot inflates, claiming her. They watch as they quiver and lay there. They 1watch as cum spurts out of both of them in an unceasing fountain of fluid pooling around them and even dousing some of the nearby flames.

“This is ridiculous!” a wolf growls. “The sex can’t be THAT good, can it?”

“I dunno,” says one of the females among them. My sister got fucked by him a couple weeks back, and, well, she’s still a drooling mess, so…”

“This is ridiculous!” a spider shouts. “I’m going in there and stopping this, once and for all. This is not the natural order! She should be paralyzing him and riding his dick until he dies!” She shoots her web into the wall across from her and hops into the hole.