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Suel knelt by one of his favorite creeks, a vein of life-sustaining azure which he frequented for its' cool temperature and soothing sounds. Reaching in with both paws, he cupped them and lifted this makeshift vessel to his lips, whereupon he sipped from the water, and when he'd had his fill, he splashed his face with the remainder, moistening his head on a hot Summer day. "Ahh," he sighed, leaning back on his knees with a lazy smile, an almost dull expression of content happiness. Life was quite good for the druid; for the better part of six months, he hadn't had to deal with the unfortunate nuisance of poachers, and he'd quite recently had an encounter with a stallion whom he'd befriended years before, an encounter his behind had almost entirely recovered from. After rising to his feet, the pudgy wolvar stretched, and then he looked up through the canopy of trees, relishing the feeling of the sun's rays on his face, even as oppressively warm as its' glow was. With only the utmost inner peace, the wolvar followed the stream, walking against its' flow, admiring the woods which he guarded. After an hour, he neared the river which the stream branched off of, and he decided it was as good an opportunity as any to again relax. Sitting at the water's edge, he lifted his half-robe, then dipped his hind paws into the water with a relaxed sigh. To feel the cool, rushing waters on his well-worn paws was quite therapeutic, and he could have savored the feeling for the rest of the day. Alas, his peace came to an end in a split second, for he was at once struck with an arrow. The point buried itself in his shoulderblade so quickly that he didn't register the pain until a full second after the fact. When it at last struck him, he merely hissed and grimaced, then immediately flopped to his side, and shortly after that, his stomach, doing all he could to make himself a smaller target.

Suel was under the assumption that he was dealing with a vengeful poacher, but that description was only half-right. As he reached back and tried to clutch the shaft of the arrow, succeeding only in brushing his fingers against it, he began to feel an all-too familiar dullness, a lack of energy that emanated from the blood-seeping wound and left him entirely helpless before long. He tried to make use of his powers, to take on the form of something, anything. If not to fight, then to at least flee, but the arrow was laced with a cocktail of poisons. The second and final toxin that had entered his body was one which stripped him of his powers, effectively locking them, preventing their use for some indefinite period of time. As he lay in fully-lucid exhaustion, suffering from the arrow wedged so neatly in his back, one word floated across his mind: tauren. Once before, he'd been taken prisoner by a band of the bovine warriors, led by the deceptively intelligent Kavaj. Under their "care," he'd been drugged with the same power-stripping potion that the arrow held, and had also been forced to ingest one of their fatigue potions in the most unusual way. To suddenly feel the immediate effects of those two potions on the tip of an arrow was no-doubt a cruel way to remind the wolvar that his escape had not been forgotten nor forgiven, and he knew that the only thing he could do was await his fate.

Suel closed his eyes and waited, listening to the soothing noises of the flowing river. For all his struggling, he could do nothing but squirm, and so he decided to simply accept his misfortune. He thought back on the trials of his first capture, finding himself more or less enslaved, fucked senseless in a seemingly unending orgy of tauren debauchery, though it was merely an appetizer for what came next; an entire night of perverse bestiality, during which he came to intimately know each and every one of the pets of the tauren. Of course, all things considered, Suel didn't find this to be too unpleasant, and he often thought to himself, had he not been obligated to protect his mates and his forest, if he would have stayed willingly. Of a clear mind, one hindered not by lust or unsure worries, Suel adamantly told himself that the answer was no. Yet, on restless nights, when he so happened to pleasure himself, or when he buried his member in the warmth of a four-legged creature, he couldn't be quite so stern with himself. Suel vaguely wondered to himself if he was being punished - or perhaps obliged - by a power from above for his what if? thoughts.

The wolvar heard their cloven hooves _clomp_ing nearer; though he couldn't look, he could hear them well, and for all the steps he heard, he assumed there to be at least four of them. "He isn't moving!" one of them snarled, his voice one which Suel recognized immediately - his old friend Kavaj, the ringleader of that warrior clan. "I swear, for all the time we put into locating this fleabag," he snorted, his voice escalating with every syllable, "if you missed and shot him through the heart, I'll have your eyeballs as earrings!" What came soon after was an audible punch, and a yelp of pain; to hear such a noise from a proud warrior was indicative of extreme discomfort. One of the tauren stepped close to him, then knelt. Suel could smell the creature's musk, and it brought back bittersweet memories of sex and enslavement; and, if he recalled correctly, it was the very tauren who had chosen his face as a seat during their entertaining orgy. "He's breathing," said the warrior with a calm tone, wrapping his hand around the shaft of the arrow. Suel braced himself, knowing full well what was due; the tauren clutched the arrow and yanked it free, and despite himself, Suel cried out from the sharp pain, finding it many times worse than when the damned thing went in, leaving the existing wound far more ragged and screaming with pain. After this outburst, he made no sounds of pain, not even a whine, something that disappointed all of the tauren, aside from the less blatantly sadistic Kavaj. "Bandage him up," the leader ordered, his voice again fortified with absolute composure, his arms folded across his chest. The tauren who had confirmed Suel's continued existence first disinfected the shallow, yet ragged wound with a stinging, pungent liquor, and then he wrapped the invalid creature tight with a bandage around his torso, under his armpits. "Don't want our favorite bitch dying on us, now," said Kavaj with a broad, toothy grin, one Suel couldn't see, though he correctly assumed the tauren was bearing it.

Soon enough, Suel was rolled over and made to sit up, his back supported by a muscular, stiff arm. Opening his eyes wearily, he at once saw Kavaj nearly nose-to-nose with him, showing his teeth to the wolvar in a grin. "A good afternoon to you, druid," he sneered, sliding his free paw up beneath the half-robe that covered Suel from the waist down, wasting no time in clutching the wolvar's sheath, coaxing a shivering groan out of the pudgy creature. "Ah, Kavaj, if I'm not mistaken?" asked the druid, putting on a smile that, considering his situation, was quite harmless. "I'm not surprised you remember me," Kavaj lewdly rumbled, "not after the way I fucked you in the muzzle and threw you to my men and pets, heh." This was accompanied by a few naughty chuckles from the powerful tauren's minions, and an incriminating blush on Suel's cheeks. "Let me be honest with you, druid," Kavaj said, his voice at once deathly serious, "I've got a bone to pick with you, fat little wolvar." Really, Suel assumed that the tauren had any number of peeves with him, but the creature opened his maw wide, allowing the druid a peek inside, whether he wanted it or not; immediately, he came to realize the tauren was missing a tooth, though the wolvar was unfamiliar with the bovine creature's maw to begin with. "Oh, that is, er," Suel mumbled, uttering an uneasy chuckle, "quite unfortunate, isn't it?" Closing his mouth, the tauren grimaced and growled, then groped the wolvar's balls in a painfully tight squeeze, one which coaxed a wince and a groan from the druid. "That happened during your little escape," Kavaj said, glaring holes into Suel's eyes. "It wound up broken in half when I hit the floor; have you ever had a tooth removed by a tauren doctor?" the leader asked, his tone nearly deadpan. Suel uneasily looked away, no longer blushing or smiling, suddenly quite nervous about the turn of events. "Had that not happened, I doubt I would have come after you after stewing about it, but that much pain simply demands retribution."

Still avoiding Kavaj's glare, Suel quite timidly asked: "Do you intend to extract one of my teeth, then?" Smirking, the tauren dragged his thick finger beneath Suel's scrotum, across his taint and tail hole, before pulling his hand back. "No, no, nothing like that," he chuckled, "even though if might've been entertaining for awhile." Standing, he let Suel fall helplessly upon his back, but into a bed of harmless grass. "It was my intention to take you back to my fortress, and make sure you don't escape again. But first," the tauren paused, whistling for the attention of his nearby pets; five wolves emerged from the forest, each one of them male, and they stood around the helpless wolvar in a tight circle. "I'm in the mood for a little show." To be in the situation he was in, Suel felt that unmistakable bittersweetness - here was precisely what he had so long fantasized about, to be boned senseless and again dragged off to captivity, but he wasn't so sure he wanted it as he looked that destiny in the eye. Of course, the wolvar had no choice, something that he reminded himself of, and so he decided he may as well resign himself to his fate. "If that's what you wish," he conceded with a solemn tone, but Kavaj was most definitely smarter than he looked, a fact that Suel was already well aware of. "Don't you play druid with me, you depraved little mutt," the tauren snorted, bearing his teeth in a broad grin. "You, myself, and all of my pets know just how badly you hoped you might wind up in our care again." With a nod to one of his men, the tauren leader barked a single command; "Get him ready." It was as simple as that, and one of the bovine warriors lifted his prostrate form, removed his half-robe from him without care, and draped his nude body belly-down over a nearby, water-smoothed boulder, much of its' surface covered in a soft, felt-like moss. Suel emitted a single noise of unease, but he felt aroused at much the same time; as one of the wolves padded closer and gave his prone behind a tentative sniff, and then a lick, Suel felt all worry slowly leaving, replaced with a mighty arousal, a need to breed that was by no means natural, but just as irresistible nonetheless.

The wolf mounted him quickly and easily; the wolvar couldn't fight back, but he didn't think he would have anyway. Though he could have told himself that the tauren would've gladly run him through if he fought, he knew it was a lie, simply something to make himself feel better. The truth was, as he felt that knotted, oozing shaft probe against the sweet, pink pucker of his asshole, that he was a slut for animals. He did spend considerable time with females, but if it was male, and if it had the capacity and the interest to fuck him, Suel would lift his tail without complaint or question. The lupine sank it's mighty meat in to the hilt, and Suel gasped - it was not a noise of pain, just pure pleasure, and when that fat, juicy knot kissed up to the stretched ring of his tail hole, he shuddered in erotic bliss. Beneath him, his own knotted penis emerged from its' fluffy sheath, and it rubbed into the cold surface of the boulder, as well as the carpet-like texture of the green moss. This contact sent shivers up his spine and gave him pleasure, but it was trivial compared to the wolf and his mighty cock. The four-legged creature growled his dominance to wolvar, and it nipped upon the pudgy druid's ears and nape, making it abundantly clear that Suel was the breeding bitch for that occasion. Suel flattened his ears and emitted a whimper, a noise met with raucous laughter from the tauren, though Suel really wasn't paying them any mind. The wolf was responsive to this verbal submission, but in a different way. His chest rumbled with a mighty growl, a noise that signified his absolute dominion over the two-legged bitch beneath him. Suel again whimpered, much louder this time, a noise he made to unconsciously plead with that big, bad wolf, to appeal to his libido, to let him know that Suel was the only bitch he'd ever need; the wolf, seemingly satisfied with Suel's promise, began to ferociously buck his hips. "Hah! I love that," growled one of the tauren, intently enjoying the show, his hide loincloth tented with a powerful erection - a condition shared with his fellow men. "Watching a big, bulky knot slamming against some poor bitch's asshole like that, there's nothing like it..."

Suel saw very little sex from other sentient, two-legged creatures; aside from his tauren captors, he could name only one person in recent times, a traveler whose life he'd saved. As such, the druid most frequently found release with animals, and so he came to appreciate the rough, efficient sex that only a horny beast could provide. The way that wolf pounded him, trying to knot his behind with every punishing thrust, there was no love, no sweetness, no unnecessary tender feelings to muddle the sex. "He always puts on a good show," one of the tauren whispered, though Suel's ears unconsciously heard every word, "that wolf there, he's so rough, even for an animal!" There was simply fucking and domination, and Suel couldn't have been any happier with that. He cried out praises to the wolf, but in no coherent way; mindless whimpers and yelps squeaked past his quivering lips, telling that mean alpha wolf how wonderful a fuck he was, and how much the wolvar bitch wanted that throbbing knot. The wolf replied in kind, snarling menacingly to the druid, but also peppering his scruff and shoulders with bites and nips, ones that drew no blood, but certainly pinched the flesh and left painful welts. Suel heard rumbling murrs from all around him - he assumed it to be the other wolves, but upon opening his eyes, he saw his tauren captors furiously masturbating, aside from Kavaj. Of course, not even the intelligent leader of the tauren could keep his libido in check, for he was fucking the behind of who seemed to be the most submissive member of his clan, the de facto "woman" who was passed around, and though Suel found the sight more than a little bit arousing, his attention wasn't destined to stay there. Already beginning to pant hoarsely, the wolf sloppily pounded his fat gland of a knot against the wolvar's bruising tail hole for all it was worth. Each thrust saw that knot spread open its' target a little bit more, but none of them could quite force it inside; nevertheless, Suel cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, a sick, two-headed beast with no discernible front or back. His cries and whimpers tried to be words, but they were an inarticulate babbling of pleasure. Finally, the wolf shoved his knot home - with a gratifying sound, a pop crossed with a noisy, wet slurp, that knot at least muscled past the yielding, bruised muscle of Suel's asshole, and with that knot so tightly tied, the four-legged creature howled to a moon that wasn't there and deposited a load so thick, so fertile, that had Suel been a wolf bitch, he would've been blessed with a belly full of pups. "Look at how wide that fat knot has him stretched, Kavaj!" the tauren bitch said, in between huffs of pleasure brought about by his leader's ruthless fucking. "Mhm, I see," Kavaj grunted, drawing his thick tongue over his own lips, "I've personally watched that pudgy bitch take two at a time - he's a slut without limits. Now you see why I want him back?"

With the alpha satiated, the other wolves felt not at all shy in inspecting Suel. They freely sniffed his prone body, sparing no part of him. With no choice but complicity, the wolvar closed his eyes and allowed them to size him up, but really, he was quite happy under the circumstances; with a handsome, mighty wolf behind him, whose knot was buried in his rump, what more could he ask for? Yet, as it turned out, he wanted more - he just wasn't aware of it until one of the other wolves took advantage of him. This next creature, younger and smaller than the alpha, yet just as sexually potent and aggressive, rubbed his sheath against the wolvar's snout and rumbled with dubious interest in the prone creature. Suel blushed, but he took this grinding with pleasure, and he even licked as much as he could - which amounted to very little, but he did get to at least taste the musky, coarsely-furred flesh of that wolf's sheath. It didn't take this brash young male long to sport an erection, a red rocket that he intently rubbed and humped against the druid's face, smearing the fur down with musky, viscous precum. Suel shuddered and moaned, nuzzling with all of his severely capped strength, desperate to feel more and more of that aching lupine cock. All around him, the tauren watched in incredibly lewd interest, even Kavaj, who was becoming more and more lost in the tight depths of his group bitch's behind, yet his eyes were glued to the bestial exhibitionism at hand. "Oh, please, fuck my muzzle," the wolvar whispered, so low that nobody could hear him; not the wolves, not the tauren, not even himself. However, it seemed that that aggressive stud of a wolf was ahead of Suel; bracing his paws against the rock, he bumped the pointed, leaking tip of his shaft against the wolvar's lips, and he commanded the pudgy creature with a domineering bark. Suel knew precisely what it was that he had to do, and he so he gladly parted his lips to allow the wolf inside.

Suel did all that he could to suck, but this was, predictably, not enough for the wolf. Growling in sexuality and domination, the young lupine ruthlessly pounded the wolvar's maw and a few inches of his throat, raping the exhausted creature's lips with his swollen knot, caring not that he tried to lick and suck and otherwise give more gentle, conventional pleasures. All that beautiful wolf saw was an orifice to fuck, a hole to deposit his load in, and for that, Suel truly admired the wild wolf. Such uncaring domination, an utter lack of care or empathy, just delightfully rough sex. Beneath the wolvar, his own shaft throbbed, shooting and oozing its' slime onto the rock's surface, but he was helpless to please himself. In a way, this denial only enhanced what was forced upon him; his role was only to please those wolves, and his own enjoyment of the act was of negligible importance. The way he resigned himself to his fate, Suel was an admirable bitch, though he longed to blow a load of his own. In truth, he would have killed - a remarkably forbidden thought for a druid - just to have a ready, waiting wolfess before him, but alas, there were no ladies among these wolves; he could tell from the menagerie of scents alone. "Look at how hard the wolvar-dog is!" one of the tauren sneered, bumping against one of his companions in a masculine gesture. "Heheh," snickered another, fervently pumping his shaft - and his friend's, who stood beside him, "are all druids this disgusting, or are we just incredibly lucky?"

Suel acknowledged their sneers and dirty-talk not as the insults as they were, but as a kind of sexual ambiance. Though he blushed crimson, the incriminating color of shame and bashfulness, to know how low they viewed him only made the sex that much more intense. Suel partook of the rotten pleasures at hand and acknowledged none of his shame, finding that his libido feasted upon it. Harder and harder, his pitch-black member throbbed, leaving a slippery streak of precum down the sloping, smooth surface of the boulder. The wolf's cock continued to abuse the druid's maw, pounding in deep, ignoring the softness of his tongue and the insides of his cheeks, the idle threat of his teeth, the subtle stick of his moist jowls; what mattered most, if not exclusively, was the very concept of fucking the wolvar, of fucking something. His swollen knot, a wash red color, bulging with veins and left nearly white at spots, punched haphazardly into the stretched jowls that made up Suel's lips. Seemingly impossible amounts of pre trickled into the druid's maw; some right down his throat like a drip-feed, some upon his tongue where it stung the hapless wolvar's taste buds with its' potent, bitter-salty flavor, and yet more mingled with the unwilling sloth's saliva, drooling past his lips and down his chin in a slobbery cocktail. "Fuck, look at him go," whispered one of the tauren; in a moment of extra-lucid thought, Suel briefly wondered if he was referring to the wolf plowing his maw, or Kavaj inflicting a similar fucking on his clan's bitch. Before he could disappear too far into this thought, the wolf started to alternately grunt - it was more of a stunted, yet throaty growl - and whine, and Suel noticed a subtle increase in speed, and a considerable loss of technique and composure. The wolf was about to get off.

With the blush on his cheeks ripening from a dull glow to a more vibrant, almost neon pink, Suel awaited what would no-doubt be a mess to savor. In his extremities, he felt that he could wiggle; though his fingertips and toes were not of much use to him on their own, he knew for a fact that the exhaustion serum was wearing thin. Absently, he reckoned that they simply couldn't fit a full dose on an arrowhead. His powers, however, were nowhere to be found just yet. Soon, the wolf's whining and grunting segued into a steady, long whimper, and finally a triumphant howl, and Suel ceased to care about any of his problems. The handsome young wolf came, spilling his seed, momentarily with such steadiness and speed that it reminded the wolvar of the fast river nearby. The young stud's climax was short-lived but virile, and Suel savored the taste and the sensation of having such thick semen coating his tongue, delivering a flavor ironically more mellow than the precum, devoid of any and all bitter twinges, tasting more like a heavily salted cream. Suel shuddered - as well as he could with such thick pieces of meat wedging him open from both ends - and relaxed against the rock, his eyes closed in absolute contentment. A lazy grin tugged at the corners of his maw, obscured by misplaced saliva, but it was most certainly there. Finally, with a content rrf, the young stud tugged his yet-erect, knotted penis free. Suel opened his eyes with a mellow lack of flair, just in time to see that pointed tip briefly dragging along the rock, leaving a trail of slime, the dregs of an orgasm, a barely white-tinted goo with an almost glue-like viscosity.

For a few moments, Suel felt blissful and content in his laziness, a feeling he likened to a particularly intense afterglow, but he was woefully far from his own climax. His hearing was rendered dull, both by the rushing waters of the river nearby and the overabundance of naughty sensations forced upon him, but he distantly made out the hurried sounds of a tauren climaxing; the snorting, the grunting, the momentary release of any and all macho idiosyncrasies in favor of erotic cries and brainless mutterings of pleasure. Glancing over - finding it easier and easier to turn his head - Suel saw Kavaj in the middle of an orgasm, and it was he who had been making all of that noise. The "bitch" beneath him was considerably more reserved, but beneath him was a sullied patch of grass, matted down like wet hair by such a colossal bovine orgasm. The sight of the mighty tauren leader's face contorted like so - his oh face - brought a subtle grin to Suel's lips, but not one that lasted. He closed his eyes, still lacking in the energy to rise and move. Three horny, handsome wolves still lingered nearby, two stalking and circling with exposed erections, one merely sitting, eying Suel in what he best classified as curiosity - incidentally, he was the most slender of the pack. If the druid could have called any animal "feminine," that cautious young lupine was it.

Behind him, Suel heard a subtle growl; it was not a noise that commanded any real attention or authority, but the wolvar still turned his ears to it. The alpha had let loose with some cranky vocalization, and soon after, the druid felt that thick, knotted penis attempting to tug free, something it successfully did after much work. The wolvar briefly cried out, not a gasp, but a true cry as the bulk of the wolf's knot came loose, doing so with an audible pop! and a burst of gut-wrenching pain. Like most anal discomforts for the wolvar, it came to pass, but twinges of pain lingered in his gaping tail hole, an orifice that lazily drooled with discarded, lukewarm semen from the alpha himself. There was, in general, a moment of silence; the tauren, once more paying all their attention to Suel and the wolves, said nothing. They only idly stroked themselves and each other off, making it abundantly clear that they were waiting for the wolves to have their way with the druid yet again - which, soon, they did. One of the two circling, erect wolves stepped up close behind Suel, nosing intently into the abused former pucker of his asshole, taking casual sniffs of the musk there, which belonged both to the wolvar and the alpha. Suel blushed at the feeling of such a cool nose taking such liberties with his bottom, though that wasn't to say he minded the attention. He minded the tongue even less; with long, sloppy slurps that demonstrated no care or technique, the wolf slapped his long, broad, slobbery tongue against the druid's taint and his entrance, ingesting the alpha's seed for what seemed to be no particular reason, but again, the wolvar minded this not one bit. He shuddered and moaned, managing to arch his back subtly, his tail flagging up in a similar display of offering and submission. Though Suel would've gladly said it verbally, his body language said fuck me now, you four-legged stud! Knot me all you like, I'm yours! And the wolf, it seemed, knew just what the wolvar bitch was saying. "Look at that wolvar-dog, offering himself like that, keeping that tail up," Kavaj said in his distinct voice, his paws roaming the clan bitch's hips in what seemed to be affection, "you'll offer your rear to anything with a cock, won't you, druid?" Absently, Suel thought yes, but said nothing.

With just the same deadly efficiency that Suel expected and loved from any and all animals who entered him, the wolf propped his fore paws up on the boulder, and he prodded his throbbing red rocket against the wet, loosened entrance to the druid's behind. Growling in a low, guttural manner, the strapping young wolf wedged open the healing, tightening passage of Suel's ass, momentarily wrenching a pained cry from the peaceful creature, but this audible discomfort segued with surprising smoothness into a steady, cooing moan. "This druid, what an unlikely slut," grunted one tauren; Suel cared not who said it. "I've only seen one other creature more inclined to get his rear plowed. Don't you remember that fox we found?" Suel's rounded ears perked, and he listened with closed eyes, waiting to see if they might mention that fox bearing the marks of a raccoon, but beyond lewd chuckles and grumbling murrs at the thought, they said no more. Suel abandoned the thought, and he turned his attention to more pressing matters; namely, the knot pressing against the stretched mouth of his tail hole. This particular lupine seemed inclined to take his sweet time, for he stayed hilted in the wolvar for many long seconds. Suel rather enjoyed the feeling, lending the act an almost gentle, romantic flair, but he knew in his heart that the wolf had some other animalistic urge, having probably been distracted by an inconsequential scent or sound. Indeed, he began to rut the wolvar as carelessly as any other animal might have, plowing Suel with such vigorous strength that his full, throbbing scrotum smacked haphazardly up into the wolvar's own, coaxing trembling moans from the druid. So taboo and delightful was the pleasure that his cheeks once again were lit with neon pink, a pink that only intensified when the other circling, horny wolf mounted his face in a way familiar to the wolvar. For a second time, he felt the pointed, drooling tip of a wolf penis against his lips, and he opened his eyes; this member was colossal, larger than even the alpha himself. It was every bit of ten inches, and so thick that Suel was uncertain he could take it into his maw - but a challenge was a welcome thing.

As that size-too-large lupine cock slid past his lips, Suel uttered a wavering moan. His eyes rolled back in his skull with the casual air of a delighted cocksucking slut, and then the lids fluttered closed over them. Inch after musky, veiny inch of desaturated red flesh dragged over his lips, tongue, and teeth, slowly sinking into his maw and the back of his throat with a dramatically slow speed. It was as if this particular wolf was smart enough to know that what he wielded was no ordinary piece of meat, and thus, it deserved respect. The fact that the wolf buried in the druid's behind was ferociously humping and grinding with all his strength was of no concern to Suel, especially as the pointed tip of that enormous wolf cock pierced the opening to his warm, velvet throat. Beyond a subtle twinge of a gag, the druid took it with ease and skill, and within a moment, the lupine was hilted. Suel's cold, tender nose was pressed into the fluffy, musky warmth of the creature's sheath, and down his throat oozed a non-stop dribble of precum. Suel was in a state of blissful sexuality, an almost zen-like calmness that saw him grin in a dull way. "See him take that cock down his throat," one of the tauren said with disbelief and lewdness heavy on his voice, "I thought for sure he'd choke to death on that thing! I know I almost did, the first time..." Suel took this as a compliment, however backhanded it may have been, and he began to suckle and swallow eagerly; over top of him, the wolf with the enormous endowment growled in tones that were truly lewd, and he stayed put, keeping his knot butted up against the wolvar's lips. It seemed that he simply enjoyed the feeling of having his length buried in such a tight, warm passage; there was no other explanation for the handsome stud's passive behavior.

At a pace incomparably slow to the furiously bucking, humping wolf at Suel's rear, the well-hung lupine began to slowly rock his hips, grinding his meat against the wolvar's tongue and into the back of his throat with every agonizingly slow thrust. Suel whimpered, but not in discomfort; his cries were of needing, wanting, slutty sexuality. As a druid, he longed for few, if any material things; to want was to defy his very nature, but he gladly threw his convictions to the wind, and he begged that wolf to fuck his face. There was nothing he wanted more at that particular moment in time - nothing whatsoever. The wolf continued to slowly, steadily thrust, but Suel was certain that he began rocking his hips a little bit quicker, though the rough grinding and rubbing seemed to suffer for the speed. Beneath the wolvar, his knotted cock throbbed, his loins burning with a fire that he felt only that oversized wolf cock could extinguish, but he needed the wolf to fuck his face. That slow, almost sensual lovemaking would not suffice. Crying out with whimpers and whines, sucking for all he was worth, Suel did everything in his power to goad the lupine into greater dominance, yet nothing could entice him. His chest rumbling with lewd pleasures, the four-legged tease slowly slid his drooling meat in and out of the druid's maw at his leisurely pace. Suel would have continued to beg and whimper if not for the sheer determination of the wolf behind him, who started to pop his fat, bulging knot in and out of the druid's behind. Again, Suel whimpered, but this time, it was not in appeal to the tease of a wolf; it was in pain. But, like any anal pain the wolvar ever felt, it was laced with unsure pleasure, and in time, it gave way fully to simple, accessible enjoyment; every knot he'd had, every stallion he'd bent over for, he always came to enjoy such unreal penetration.

Suel instinctively - and far-off, rationally - knew that that wolf's ruthless knotting meant he was on the verge of a climax. Prepared to spill his seed and attempt to impregnate the wolvar, that wolf wanted nothing more than to ensure that his load stayed precisely where it was wanted, and after a few more vicious, animalistic thrusts to bring himself to the tingling edge of his climax, he buried his bone right up to its' sheath, and he howled with pride. Just as this mighty cry pierced the ears of anybody and everybody nearby, his seed pierced the depths of Suel's behind, shooting with such force and volume that the druid felt a very loving, gooey warmth deep in his bowels, which brought another dull smile to his lips. All pain from that anal knotting had left, leaving only sweet pleasure in its' wake; below him, his shaft twitched and throbbed harder than ever, and though he imagined having an orgasm entirely hands-free, it was not to be the case. "This wolvar, he's almost as bad as the foxes we've come across," a tauren laughed, yet it was, not surprisingly, a noise of sexuality and not good nature. "He takes that knotting so well, look at how badly that tight, pink little asshole of his is stretched around it..." Over top of the druid, with ferocity seemingly spurred by his fellow wolf's climax, the lupine whose mighty endowment was buried in the wolvar's face began to truly thrust his hips. As efficiently as any other animal would, he fucked the druid's maw just as violently as he pleased, and Suel couldn't have been happier. He groaned in primal arousal, savoring the ruthless sexuality of the feral creature. It was no single sense that aroused him the most; the sensation of that cock pounding his lips, the taste of the precum and the flesh itself on his tongue, the scent of overbearing male musk, the sound of him grunting and heaving just overhead, Suel savored all of it and wished for the moment to never end. But, like all good things, it had to.

Not once did the wolf whimper or whine; he seemed to be a paragon of masculinity among the wolves, even more so than the alpha, for he neared his climax only with the gruff tones of a creature who never knew pain. Grunting and snarling and huffing his praises to the wolvar bitch's maw and throat, the bucks of his hips grew more frantic and irregular, and it was all too obvious to everybody - to Suel in particular, who wished that fucking would last an eternity - that the mighty wolf was near his climax. Tossing his head back farther than the others did, howling with such might as to frighten flocks of birds from the trees for miles, the lupine creature nearly wedged his knot between the wolvar's jaws, and he came. Rope after rope of sticky, nearly chokingly thick semen shot from the pointed tip of that wolf's twitching penis, splattering its' way down the wolvar's esophagus in a messy trail of warmth, leaving his throat so pleasantly warm that he felt as though he'd downed the entire contents of a bottle of rum or whiskey. For many long seconds, the lupine slowly, contently swished his tail, his fore paws planted on the wolvar's shoulderblades; he seemed to revel in his afterglow, and when he at last pulled free, he did it slowly, as if to allow the tip of his shaft - which continued to ooze with discarded semen - to drag across the wolvar's broad, tender tongue, which it did. With his shaft freed of that hot, freshly defiled maw, the wolf hopped down from Suel and the boulder, and he laid nearby, resting his head on his crossed fore paws, his intelligent eyes affixed to Suel.

And so, all that remained was that single wolf, the lanky, oddly feminine creature who merely sat and watched, his tail wagging intently. It was abundantly clear that he wanted Suel, but his gentle eyes spoke differently than those of the others. Suel was certain that the cute thing was being submissive, nearly coy, but he couldn't have been sure. Behind him, the wolf whose knot was buried in his behind abruptly pulled his length free, sending a brief bolt of pain up through the druid's body, but it faded quickly. Suel was no longer pinned, but still surrounded by the lewd murmurs of the tauren, some of whom began to discuss taking him back to their compound. At long last, finding the motions easier as he began to move his protesting muscles, he pushed himself up with his fore paws, and then up to his feet. His powers were still entirely bound, however, and when the tauren began to close in on him, he offered them only a timid, harmless raise of his paws, on which the fingers were splayed. "Please," he reassured them, his face clearly too tired to fight, "I'm in no condition to defend myself." Though they didn't intend to listen to him, and one of them produced a length of rope, Kavaj spoke up over them. "Let him be!" the authoritative tauren boomed, catching the gazes of everybody - the tauren, Suel, and the wolves. Though Kavaj's face was stern, it soon melted into a dirty grin, and he folded his arms across his enormous chest. "He's not done yet. Tie him up after he's done."

Surrounded by a loose ring of his tauren captors, Suel knelt near the feminine wolf. At first, the creature seemed skittish, as though he might scamper away, but instead, he flopped over upon his back like a shy dog might. Finding a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, Suel began stroking across the handsome wolf's belly, ignoring his sheath for the time being, which, despite the fact that it bulged with clear arousal, was largely dormant. "Pretty boy," he murmured, rubbing more and more, his affections soon rewarded with aimless, delighted kicking and pleased growling from the wolf. The tauren spoke amongst themselves, but they were largely hushed; Suel only caught the occasional snatch of conversation. ...didn't think he'd want us to bring that wolf, he's kind of, you know... ...don't think that stupid wolvar's figured it out... ...heh, I doubt if he will, he's such a bitch, himself... These were nothing more than curiosities to Suel; but truthfully, he had his assumptions about the wolf. And, indeed, they were more than that, for the alpha butted his way between Suel and this apparent omega with a haughty flair. The alpha barked for the feminine wolf's attention, and he acknowledged it with a shocked yip, a noise of surprise and submission. Then, in what seemed like instinct, he turned around, his rump facing Suel, and he lifted his tail, at the same time dropping his face into the dirt. Gazing upon the snug, presented pucker of the attractive young wolf's tail hole, Suel found his grin coming back in full force, manifesting in a very toothy manner. "Oh, I see just what you are now," the wolvar murred, leaning closer and closer, while the alpha stalked close by, watching carefully, intent to be sure Suel used, but did not abuse the bitch he'd been offered. As the wolvar nosed, and then began licking the bitch's quivering asshole, however, the alpha laid down; clearly, Suel knew how to treat his gift.

It was uncommon for the wolvar to go so far as to rim an animal, yet he could think of nothing more appropriate here. This was a beautiful young male who had been offered to him, and for an animal to do something sexual that didn't assist in the savage love of procreation, well, that was something special, and a creature so special deserved special, loving attention. Putting his broad, canine tongue to good use, Suel lapped and slurped across the snug, needing pucker of the feminine omega's behind, and he responded with any number of submissive, seemingly pleased sounds. Most of all, he whined for Suel, but they were not sounds of unease or discomfort, instead speaking volumes of arousal and lust. It seemed that Suel was doing precisely what both the alpha and the omega wanted, and as he began to lick inside of that tightly clenched pucker, defying the tight ring of tender muscle with his slobbery, saliva-soaked tongue, the lanky creature seemed to actually coo with pleasure. Beneath him, his muted-pink shaft had slid free of its' sheath in its' entirety, and it drooled almost incessantly with precum, a slime that stained the dirt beneath. Likewise, Suel's shaft, in desperate need of a climax, throbbed with almost insurmountable lust; the desire to simply stop his loving licking and plow the wolf for all he was worth was almost impossible to resist, even for a druid of such conviction. Without an ounce of smugness, Suel told himself than a less devoted, patient creature would have given in already. Of course, after he briefly stroked his own shaft and felt the mighty, full-body shiver of pleasure it brought him, he decided even his patience had limits. Hurriedly, he tugged his tongue free of the cute wolf's well-lubricated behind, and he mounted the creature.

With one paw on his own shaft and the other on the wolf's hip, Suel guided the pointed tip of his black penis to the pink, quivering entrance of the sissy wolf's behind, and he started to press forward with very little in the way of sensuality. He groaned, pulling his jowls into a toothy grimace; his eyes were soon closed tight against the light of the day and the prying eyes of the tauren, all of whom were deathly silent as they pawed at their erections. Quickly, his knot was pressed up to the cute omega's tail hole, and the feral bitch whimpered to him. It was a whimper he understood, for it was a whimper he often used himself; it said oh, fuck me, for I am your unwavering bitch! And Suel, not one to neglect a gift, especially one as beautiful as that wolf, began to fuck the presenting creature for all that he was worth. Huffing and grunting, wrapping his arms around the effeminate lupine, the pudgy druid threw the brunt of his weight into each thrust, the bulking, throbbing fruit of his knot pressing hungrily against the slowly yielding pucker of the bitch's asshole over and over. He could be loving and sensual when the situation called for it, but when he was left to his own devices, Suel could fuck like a true animal, as he was demonstrating on that wolf's ass. The wolf seemed to be well used to the notion of being so ruthlessly used, for he took it and whimpered in that incriminating slutty way for Suel yet more, begging and begging to be fucked harder and harder. Suel gave the cute young thing all he wanted and more, but the druid's erection had endured through so much sex, sex in which he wasn't given any release whatsoever. And so, though he fucked the young wolf with all his strength, that wonderful lay wasn't meant to last more than a few blissful minutes; heaving and grunting, bearing down on the twink of a wolf, thrusting with every ounce of his strength, Suel finally hilted, sinking his knot with a lewd pop! that was all too familiar to his ears and the ears of the tauren. Crying out in the throes of an incredibly intense orgasm, he spilled his seed deep in the bowels of the feminine wolf, and that wolf, so clearly a bottom bitch for every member of his pack, came with nearly as much ferocity as the wolvar himself, and without so much as a finger laid on his shaft.

Suel savored his afterglow, but deep in his body, he felt his powers returning to him; whether it was the release of his orgasm or simple coincidence, he would never know, but he waited and bided his time. The tauren around him came one by one, and he stayed put, under the guise of relaxing and enjoying the last of his freedom. In truth, though he remained inside of the wolf so as to avoid harming the pretty young thing, he savored the closeness and the inherent cuddliness of such a sexually conditioned bitch. Yet, when he at last freed his shaft and the tauren took hold of him, Suel had no time for foolishness any longer; in but an instant, he changed from a pudgy, amiable wolvar into a grizzly bear who was a head above even the tallest tauren. "This again!?" Kavaj snarled, reaching for a bottle of the power-binding concoction, intending to smash its' glass container against the bear's flank; the glass would no-doubt open wounds, wounds that the potion would seep into, and then it would bind his powers effectively enough. Suel, however, had other plans; with a mighty roar, he lifted one of the tauren who so ineffectively tried to bind him, and he hurled him into Kavaj, sending the both of them to the dirt in a daze. In a flash, the druid had returned to his less combat-ready wolvar form; he dodged a haymaker swing from one of the tauren, slid between the legs of another, and then he disappeared into the canopy of the trees, his domain, where the tauren would have no hope of catching him.

Just as before, the druid made his way to his den, where he chose to bathe himself. And already, with a dirty grin to himself, he'd begun to wonder how he might go about luring that beautiful, feminine bitch of a wolf out of the tauren camp without getting himself caught again.