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"Tonight was her night."

Karambit had quite surprised her Master by just how easily she acclimated to domestic life inside the Holy City, an environment so different from the mountainous regions which the Deathclaw roamed before being tamed. Yet, from her perspective, this change of circumstance had been internally translated into something perfectly natural for her. In fact, her new living situation met the requirements of a female of her species quite well.

The breeding partner of a particularly successful male would not need to hunt for herself and her hatchling. The Lair would be her domain, her indolence a remark on the success of her mate. And her mate was very successful. She did not quite understand what the culture and politics that Raphael was involved in as a Saint were, but she did understand that he was important. He must be. Because the Lair was always well stocked with food, comfortable, warm, and unthreatened by any external force.

This Lair was her bliss. Her Master called it a Mansion, and it was much more convenient than any mountainside cave. There was a large pit filled with warm and clean water called a 'bath'. There was a room filled with devices which spewed flame, where the Felyne would amplify the flavour of the food bought with Raphael's stipend. There was a warm room for gatherings, and another for sleeping – with large fluffy squares called 'mattresses'. She liked mattresses. Granted, they never lasted long before her dorsal spikes shredded them.

Though, her spikes were far less sharp than they used to be, and her scales far less abrasive as well. She no longer needed those natural defences after all. Her place was for the Lair, for raising the hatchling, and for breeding. It was the right of her dominant male to better shape her to his liking, and with luxurious oil and rough stones, he had made her smooth and trained her in the arts of pleasure. It was a joy to learn.

Living as an owned female in a Mansion in the Holy City was not much different to living as an owned female in a mountainside cave. Her Master had even expanded his pack with other breeding females and submissive males, just as a male Deathclaw would! As the first Pet (which naturally made her superior to all others), she kept the peace of the Lair, involving herself with the pack and settling disputes which were beneath her Master.

Most of those disputes she didn't really understand, though the content never really mattered to her, she just responded to aggression. She had her own methods for dealing with Pets in conflict: The Skaven would become appropriately submissive when placed upon a high ledge from which she could not get down. The Wolfman and the Manticore would scream and howl for a while, but eventually go limp if she sat on them. She didn't understand the language of the Gryphon but he would flee shrieking if she plucked a single feather, and the Felyne she had yet to find a reason to discipline.

She disciplined her Master too, on occasion. When he spent too much time at the Grand Cathedral working, or left behind his Ring of Status Immunity to go drinking with the Knights, or even doted on other Pets a little too much in her presence. She had developed an expression just for him, a look of mild disapproval which she had learned by watching the Skaven. Though, Kara was much more overt in making it clear that she wanted attention, and would make her jealously known by accosting her Master more… directly.

It was after all quite difficult for him to continue a discussion with another Pet if she were to thrust her chest to the floor, spread her legs wide, and raise her tail to show the need of the cunt which belonged to him. And it was all the more amusing if she were to do such a thing in the company of a visitor from outside of the Monster Harem – she would normally get only as far as the glare before he was springing to his feet to placate her. These Trinity races are far too uptight in matters of sexuality and decorum. But her Master never seemed to quite understand that she was simply demonstrating to their guests that he was such a potent male that he had breeding females at beck and call.

Though, she had more of a claim to her Master's time than any other Pet on account of their hatchling – and rightly so. The Deathclaw had always found the sound of Raphael's voice to be strangely soothing, and while she might not understand the complexities of his professional life, hearing him speak about his day reaffirmed his productivity as a male. In this strange Holy City, his stories of culture and politics were not so dissimilar to one of her own species communicating the state of his hunting grounds. It would put little Bowie straight to sleep, too. Perfect. Since with the hatchling put down for the night, she could have her Master all to herself before the rest of the Monster Harem showed up for their piece of him.

The Skaven was her chief rival. She was always examining the ring on her finger which mirrored the one worn by Raphael and preening as obnoxiously as the Gryphon. Always the last to claim him of a night by climbing into his lap and taking that spot to sleep – vacating before the Wolfman appears for his morning ritual. It was the right of a dominant male to have many breeding females and submissive males, but the intimacy that Khut shared with him stirred a jealousy in her heart quite unbefitting to a Deathclaw. And she knew that the Manticore felt the same way, as well! Kali had been much more aggressive these days in her demands on her Master's time, trying to impress him with her sports and watching him so perceptively.

Kara was not going to lose to either of them! And she certainly wasn't going to lose to any of the males. It baffled her that her Master doted on them so much. What was the point aside from the domination necessary to make them into his submissive slaves? It was not as though he could impregnate any of them, so why breed them just as thoroughly as his females? This love thing was so confusing. It was such a warm and satisfying feeling, a fulfilment which truly completed her. But it came with anxiety and jealousy, lust and desire.

She had no wish to become the sole occupant of Raphael's heart, for with his twisted evolution of [Tame], no single Monster could satisfy him. But she, like every other Pet inside the Monster Harem would settle for nothing less than the top spot. Bravura jokingly called it the 'Wife Wars', which offended Khut greatly and naturally meant that the term stuck. Their contest was hidden from the eyes of their Master, and the battle was fierce.

Tonight was her turn.

When the other Pets had an evening marked out on the timetable where they would have their Master all to themselves, most took it for the opportunity to go on some sort of date. Khut would wear a dress and accompany Raphael somewhere fancy, he might go shopping with Bravura, flying with Talion, to watch sports with Kali, or Alp would simply put on his leash and request a walk. Kara though was quite comfortable in the Lair and preferred simply to spend the time curled up and lazing in the company of her mate. Or rather, doing her best to seduce him.

Bowie had been lulled to sleep after hearing a thorough account of Raphael's day – one spent relating the culture of his people to the scriveners of the Grand Cathedral. Apparently, it was very important for the Holy Scribes to know if a certain series about pirates and treasure had concluded yet. She always enjoyed watching him with their hatchling. Weighty though the infant was, he would be deftly cradled in one arm, and the sight of the other one empty never failed to invoke a certain need in the Deathclaw. Such a worthy male deserved a second egg. All the better if she could deliver it before the Skaven or Manticore had carried their first!

When particularly needy or frustrated (or in need of proving a point), Kara would simply raise her tail and demand that her dominant male breed her. But over time, she had learned the value of finesse. If there was one thing which the Awakening Ritual had granted her, it was the realisation that she may be a submissive female to her Master, but she was not powerless. Raphael wanted to please her just as much as she wanted to please him, and there was much more fun to be had with thorough foreplay than the insistence that he simply fuck her into the ground.

Their most common ritual was also her favourite, “Master, please oil scales."

He smiled. He smiled because he knew what it meant. The Beastlord enjoyed doting on his Pets, and this ritual was so reminiscent of the manner in which he took possession of her all that time ago that the undertaking of it had become a precious nostalgia. They left behind their hatchling, and brought a flame to the baths, lighting up the ornate braziers to illuminate the Trinity emblem frescoes, the shadow filled empty pit, and the tools of this undertaking.

Oil, cloth, a rough stone, and a curved blade called a strigil. Raphael had also carried with him a small wooden box, the contents a mystery. But, if it was like any of the other surprises he occasionally brought to their carnal encounters, she was certainly looking forward to whatever it was. The Deathclaw collapsed onto her front, splaying out her limbs obediently, and awaiting her Masters application of his craft. For what could this be but taming? With these instruments he was shaping her body to his liking, and with pleasure he was moulding her mind to compliance.

For Raphael, this was a relaxing process. Similar to getting his thoughts in order by relating events leading up to a point of consequence aloud, the work of scale care was a ritual which put him at ease. Ten feet of lizard splayed out before him, but Kara was much less monstrous in appearance than she was at their first meeting. The claws were carefully lacquered, the natural weapons shining in the firelight, these required nothing but the caress of the oiled cloth and were the first thing that he tended to.

Her armoured forearms were clad in a vambrace of scales, and to these he applied the stone, brushing back and forth to draw a find power from the few burrs which had cropped up since her last polishing. Once so abrasive, the coal black armour now gleamed, smooth to the touch, a cladding which broke at the elbow to resume at the upper arm and erupt into dorsal spikes at the shoulder. Perhaps he had grown more used to her, perhaps it was these grooming sessions, or her adjustment to being a kept female, or perhaps an unknown effect of [Tame], but her appearance had softened greatly. Now, he would probably call her voluptuous rather than terrifying, with an expressiveness heightened by a newly forged consciousness.

Pressing on the upper back invoked a rumbling growl of satisfaction, and the continuing application of pressure encouraged it. Her shoulders rolled, her toe-claws clenched and unclenched, and Kara made her pleasure known, “More."

Complicated sentences remained difficult for her, and the Deathclaw found many words superfluous in communicating what she desired anyway. Her Master took a seat on her lower back, just above her tail, and began to massage her shoulders, smoothing scale with his stone and working oil into them to have her shine. While very tall when she extended herself, her race walked with something of a hunch when upright, and it put a lot of strain on her upper body – making it rather pleasant to be worked on so thoroughly.

There was nothing erotic about this grooming, but there was an air of anticipation, an unspoken covenant of where this would inevitably lead. Master's hands felt powerful, far more powerful than a Human had any right to be, and the application of his strength seemed to be growing day by day without the man really conscious of it. His absolute power over her was already grander than any male Deathclaw could manage with only physical might, for it was [Tame] which had made her acknowledge him as a breeding partner when they met, but now he invoked a different sort of submission in her.

The Human was devious, and as he worked on her back, she allowed her mind to wander, recalling the depravity of her mate. She had been forced to drink his seed from the gaping holes of the other two females and had her own tended to with just as much desperate vigour. He had bound her down on the platform brought in by the Felyne and spent an afternoon making sport of her with strange devices of pleasure. He had taught her to use her tongue to pleasure him, wrapping dexterous grey around his cock to shield it from her fangs so that she might suckle down his orgasm. He had made her beg. Made her use her limited speech to voice words of absolute submission.

She had no shame in that submission. She was his owned female, his breeding slave, the keeper of the Lair who lived to dote on her dominant male and to raise their hatchlings. It was his right to fuck her however he desired. It was his right to bind her to the platform and fuck her ass raw for no reason but the entertainment of seeing her copious slick form a river down her thighs. It was his right to put a metal ring between her fangs so that he could shove his cock down her throat, grasping her horns and mating with her face. It was his right to pump her womb with cum, and to have his other females lick her cunt clean.

The cock of her Master was ruinous, a cervix-plundering shaft which winded even the enormous Deathclaw when he bent her over herself to give her the long and hard fucking which inevitably led to a blissed-out collapse into slumber. But his fingers were true bliss. They worked now with an oiled cloth into her coal black armour, but their dexterity at the entrance of her ashen grey femininity, and the soft pressure of a small mouth and forceful tongue at her clit, that was where they were at their best.

Raphael repositioned himself, turning at his seat on her lower back to now take her tail into his arms and tend to it with his stone. The raising of it came with the strong scent of Deathclaw arousal, a musky and potent odour which had always made the man's head spin despite the Ring of Status Immunity on his finger. Or perhaps it was just the arousal of observing thick strings of feminine need connecting a wet cunt to the base of it, “It always amazes me just how wet you get when you're aroused, Kara…" He commended idly, “And you always get like this when I'm tending to your scales."

She huffed, the sound breaking the rumble of satisfied growls, “Master's hands. Good." She flexed her lower body, her tail twisting in his arms to allow him better access to its underside, “Oil. Make soft. Then fuck. Hard." Kara was demanding, “Like feeling. Dominant Master. Your place power. My place submit. Feels right. Comfortable. Raise tail. Spread legs. Serve Master."

The Beastmaster hummed, finished with her tail, he moved on to the armour of her buttocks, jostling what was a little less solid than the plate-mail of the rest of her body, “But, you do like to be doted on, don't you? When we've these evenings together, this is always what you ask for, after all."

“Shaped by Master. Made smooth. Made soft. Better for Master to fuck." She bucked her lower body once, having him rise and fall as he made her scales shine, “This submission. Make clear place. My body for Master." Kara growled softly, “Control. Like when male Deathclaw use force and take by throat. Master not even need [Tame]. Control with good feeling. Use pleasure. Make want surrender. Give self to mate."

That was certainly one way of looking at it, “Flip." He ordered her on to her back, but there was no need to make use of [Tame] just as she had said. Eager for pleasure, Kara was obedient and submissive, her dorsal spikes scraping the tiles as she lay back to give him access to her body. With arms and legs done, he moved straight on to the granite shaded chest and underside, the oiled cloth pressed into pectoral muscles beneath much softer scales than her grander armour cladding.

She watched him work, her skull-like face softened by the Awakening Ritual into expression much like her body had been tempered by grooming into a comfortable yield. There was intelligence behind her eyes, and a flush of arousal in how she breathed, her slightly ajar maw, and the mistiness of her gaze, “Master small. But, I like. Not strong like Deathclaw. No fangs. No claws. No scales. But maybe strong like Human. Kind. Comfortable. Makes feel good. Makes want more. Like smooth skin. Like quick hands. Like big cock." Kara murred softly, “Make knees weak. Make tail raise. Want breeding."

“Thank you." It was a very Kara compliment, but it pleased him nonetheless, the process of oiling her scales winding down as he finished up her abdomen, and reached at last a point which could not really be much softer or smoother, “I like doting on you. If anything, you seeing it as me shaping you makes it even more enjoyable. I want you to be soft and safe and comfortable. I'll keep you for breeding in the Lair, taking care of the Monster Harem, raising the hatchlings, just like a male of your own species would."

He moved himself to her side, placing his hands on her inner thighs, breathing deep that familiar scent, and allowing the demonstration of her need to seep into his senses, “This is the wettest cunt of all the Pets, the sloppiest cum-drenched fuck." Raphael grinned, “And it is mine. You're my breeding-slave. My submissive female. I own this pussy. And when Khut used her Enchantment Magic to turn pain to pleasure and you moaned like a whore, cumming around your own egg as you passed it, it was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I want to fuck another one into you just to see that sight again…"

The bulk of her tail beneath the Deathclaw projected her hips slightly upwards, her legs slightly spread and held this way by the press of his palms. It was not the natural position in which her species would mate, but she had come to quite enjoy it. Her mate had the best access to her body this way, and in this reclining vulnerability she could give herself to him entirely. The cant of her lower body formed a divot at her tail base, and it was here that a lake of femcum had already accumulated.

Her soft flesh was an ashen grey, and as he pulled at the soft scales he revealed the inside of her leaking cunt. It was comparatively featureless when held against the femininity of the Skaven or Manticore, yet at the peak was an engorged clit around the size of his thumb, the tip just peaking from within her slit. For so lascivious a species – though he'd come to find that all Monsters in this nonsense world were somewhat lusty – there was not a tremendous amount of sensitivity to her genitalia as a whole, with almost all of the pleasure of a Deathclaw experienced through the clit alone.

Lubrication was prodigious, for males of this race were somewhat violent in rut, quick and brutal when it came to breeding, and Raphael now trailed his fingers through the pool at her crotch. He'd likened it before to the consistency of olive oil, a taste slightly bitter and a little salty, far from unpleasant, and scented with the sharpness of her unique musk. He spread her undertail, invoking a slight gasp as her puckered hole drank in the excess lubricant.

For Kara, there was even less pleasure to be found here, but she'd come to enjoy the sensation of having her undertail played with for a different reason. There was no purpose for it but the enjoyment of her Master, a futility for breeding and only a little pleasure for her. It underscored his ownership of her body, and the sensation of being so completely under his power aroused her greatly, enough for a river of slick to leak from her cunt to be drank in by the dark opening his fingers parted.

Ignoring her streaming need, her Master instead slipped two fingers beneath her tail, pressing as deeply as he was able and parting them to force her own slick deep into her body. Now a moan came, the pressure on her insides enough to provide some mild stimulation to her cunt-squeezed clit, and the satisfaction of his ownership fulfilling to her Deathclaw instincts. Yes. This is precisely where her Master should fuck her. This was how he demonstrated his ownership of her body. Her place was to accept this pleasure, and to play the part of a good womb-slave.

His fingers curled upwards and that pressure increased. While her clit was as large as a thumb when engorged – which it very much was – it took the parting of her cunt to reveal it. At rest, it remained crushed within her, and she fought the urge to rub her legs together to stimulate it in the way in which a Deathclaw would masturbate. Pleasure instead came from the pressure of this stern probing of her undertail, and the unique stimulation that it gave her insides.

It had taken quite a long time, but Raphael had trained her to cum from this. Even without the sensitivity of other races, she had come to learn and appreciate this pleasure, melded it in her mind with the joy of submission to his power, and now she moaned as whorishly as every other Pet when her Master made sport of her undertail, “Master… Harder…"

The lewd squelching of his fingers would have been a noise depraved enough for even Kali to blush, but the Deathclaw had no such shame. He pressed back with his knuckles, delved deep with his fingertips, and curled upwards to scrape the interior wall against the back of her cunt. Every motion ushered more lubricant forth, and the cant of her hips had it flow between his digits back into her body. What began as a singular whorish moan became lascivious panting, the squirming of a vulnerable creature beneath him, twitching unbidden, marionette to pleasure.

“Words like slut and whore don't mean anything to a Deathclaw, do they?" Raphael mused, leaning forward and increasing the rapidity of his thrusting fingers, “I love your scent, Kara. I love your wet cunt and your femcum slicked undertail. I love the mess of fucking you. I love that no matter how loudly you moan, I can always hear the shlicking of your holes." That very sound now permeated the air, “No wonder you got knocked up so easily. This lewd body was made for breeding!"

“Yes! Master!" She bucked her hips, rolling on the tail pinned beneath her, “Want pregnant again. Came so hard. On our egg. Next time. Please. Magic again. Fuck me. While I birth for you." Kara moaned, “I'm your. Breeding female. Also. Pleasure slave. You're dominant male. Use me. Make me owned." Her voice remained a broken mess of concepts, “Need cum. Inside me, Master. Fuck. Use wrong hole. Makes me feel. Like true slave!"

The Human was quick to oblige her. Raphael's own arousal had mounted while he worked on his Pet, and her needy request for anal was as much music to his ears as the lewd sound accompanying the pumping of his fingers. He withdrew them to find a thick strand of that thick and gloopy femcum between the two of them, surveying it for only a moment before mounting her tail and angling his cock downwards. Her body twitched, and her clit winked at him as her pussy bucked upwards, but he was aiming lower.

Raphael bucked his hips forward into an undertail made light on resistance, the battery of his cock against her internal walls drawing another long and whorish moan from his Pet. He impaled her on a foot of girthy Human meat, the rock of her body allowing her to stimulate the clit caught in the press of her sealed cunt. But he knew that the real pleasure came from the defilement of this act, the futility of dumping a load under her tail and what that meant that she was. Something beyond a breeding slave, a creature devoted to the pleasure of her Master, wanton in service, owned and willing.

As wet as a Deathclaw was, the evolution of [Tame] had left the Beatsmaster equally copious in precum, and he immediately added his own to the mix as with a gentle rhythm he began to fuck Kara in earnest. He growled, revelling in the power of it. A towering mass of monstrous muscle, armoured and clawed, with savage countenance and lethal jaws, squirming and moaning beneath him, her sharp edges dulled for his convenience, slave to his cock, worshipper of his masculinity. It drove the pace of his rut to an immediate fury, and that initial gentle rhythm was abandoned in scarcely a dozen strokes.

“Yes! Harder! More!" He seized her hips, the muscles of his forearms bulging, the corded lines of his biceps pressed against pale flesh, his shoulders straining, his abs drawn in with effort, and he lifted her lower body, empowered by the endless vigour of [Tame]. From this angle he could fuck her more deeply, holding his breath as he worked his way quickly towards orgasm. But the Deathclaw would beat him to it, her helplessness in the face of this titanic feat of strength driving her past the peak of pleasure, her cunt spasming in a sloppy cascade of orgasmic juices.

Raphael buried his cock deep, a low roar of effort in his throat, and a hefty cumshot poured into his mate's core. This was his mark, his proof of ownership, the power over her which let him choose futile pleasure over breeding when the purpose of a female of her race when owned by a male in this way was reproduction. He rejected her nature, and he forced her to reject it as well, a defiance of instinct in favour of the pleasure which only he could provide. It made her toe-claws curl, and a melted expression befall that skull-like visage.

Strength failed, and she descended with bone-deep satisfaction, her mate atop her. But of course, Raphael was far from done, and while in need of a little recovery time for the moment, neither was she. Now was a time for greater depravity, and in the lull which followed this overture of pleasure, Raphael retrieved the two items from the small box he'd acquired at the market. If the Pontiff knew what he was spending his stipend on, he could only imagine how they would react…

The item which he had purchased was designed to be a Magic Weapon, relatively cheap for its limitations. Upon his finger went a magic ring, a Ring of Projectile Control – the projectile in question being a piece of silver metal roughly the size and shape of a chicken egg. The intent of the device was for the metal to be launched from the hand with force akin to a sling, and when within around a foot of so of distance to the ring, it could be controlled with the utmost precision, increasing the accuracy of the lob.

Magic Items were delightfully intuitive in their use, and despite being something of a neophyte, even Raphael was able to make the egg hover a few inches above his palm with little effort beyond thought. What came next was almost certainly not in the mind of the Dwarf craftsman which had forged and imbued the object. Or perhaps it was – after all, just about every race in this nonsense world seemed somewhat horny, the Trinity races just having a little bit more decorum about it. Raphael focused, and the egg pulsed. Once. Twice. And then, with a dull and rhythmic vibration. Perfect.

He forced it into her sopping cunt, pressed it hard against her clit, and focused the intensity.

“Maaaaasssssteeeeeeeerrrrrr!" The result was as immediate as it was predictable. This bundle of nerves was the sole point of pleasure inside a Deathclaw, and here was a device to stimulate it directly, forcefully, and with his ring-bearing hand cupping her spasming cunt, he manipulated it with the utmost precision. For a female which had never before known the sensation of vibration, with the hard cock of her mate stirring cum beneath her tail, and his fingers parting her wide so that he could observe her quivering insides, Kara was undone.

She screamed, and she squirted, a gush of femcum splattering his palm, the rolling pleasure of the egg manipulated to flow in time with her own spasming insides. Her Master was fucking her again, but her broken mind was scarcely conscious of it, every fibre of thought bound up with the intensity of pleasure wrought by the egg. Raphael grit his teeth, for the seizing of her undertail about his cock in orgasm was torturous in its own right, his miniscule refractory period already passed, he set his mind to working the Magic Item, and his body to finding its own pleasure in rut.

“What!? What is – happening!?" He flexed his fingers and twisted the egg, the narrower peak of the metal now forced against her clit, the vibrations intense, before after a few moments rotating it again to the gentler thrum of the broader bottom. He growled himself, though the sound was subsumed by the noises of the female beneath him. There was a mild feeling of tingling pleasure emanating through her, conducted by the inner walls of her cunt, and her shuddering upward grind elevated the feeling of pleasure.

“It's a Magic Item." The explanation came through grinding jaws, and he wished that he'd delivered it before immediately pressing the egg into her cunt in his eagerness to see the effect at work, “Much smaller than one of yours…" He thrust his hips deep, and snarled, “I'm going to make you cum yourself stupid… and then…" Orgasm gave him the clarity he needed to finish, “Then I'm going to force it deep, I'm going to press it through your cervix…" Another snarl, “And while I put my seed under your tail, I'm going to womb-fuck you with the egg and stir the cunt I own into a frothy mess!"

He wasn't lying. Watching her cum so hard around Bowie's egg had been immeasurably hot to the Beastmaster, and while he would one day have her replicate that with her next laying, the image had been too alluring for him to resist indulging in this stopgap. Magic Weapons were particularly expensive, usually more so than all other categories of Magic Item, but immediately on making the connection on what he could use this metal egg for, he knew that he had to have it.

His cock stirred a mess of femcum and his own ejaculate, and no further explanations came as the air was again filled with the lewd shlicking noise of his maleness plundering her depths, Raphael's subdued groans of pleasure, and the rapturous moaning of a horny Deathclaw. Her juicy cunt was overflowing with need, and every period of oversensitivity which followed orgasm was ignored completely. [Tame] was never invoked, yet she felt no less restrained by the desires of her Master, baring her holes for him and singing her pleasure, overstimulated to pain.

But it was a good pain. It was a maddening jolt which leapt straight from her pussy to her reptilian brain, and with every toe-claw curling, ruinous orgasm, every wet gush of pleasure against his hand, every writhing snarling whorish moan, she submitted to her dominant male. What deeper fulfilment could there be than this? She would happily bear her love a hundred eggs, if he fucked her this well in the conception of them! She would dedicate her life to their Lair and the raising of their young, and demand from her Master this pleasure in turn!

Kara's lower body went slack, wracked by orgasm after orgasm, the mess of her own femcum crawling up her abdomen, her undertail squelching lewdly as his balls slapped against her, and her cunt frothed by the egg and his exploring fingers. It was now at last that those digits took over the stimulation of her clit, and the egg was forced deeper, to a cervix which a foot of Human cock could only just graze with the deepest thrusts. She gibbered, her words a meaningless babble as the peak of the egg nestled against that internal circle of muscle, and began to vibrate in a rhythmic pulse timed to the probing of his fingers and the plundering of his cock.

The Deathclaw came undone. It ached. It ached so deeply, a potent poison wearing away at her sanity, reducing her to a creature made only for breeding, only for serving her dominant male, nothing but holes for fucking and birthing, an obedient slut, a born whore, an owned female. Her Master was using her. Entertaining himself as if she was a toy, finding pleasure in the wrong hole and battering the gates of her cervix with this metal egg. Her horns scraped into the tiles beneath her, dorsal spikes grinding down hard, her whole body bucking upwards, thrusting needily.

This is how he trained her. This is what had made her surrender to the supremacy of her Master. Her cunt spasmed, she clamped down on his cock hard with her undertail, and a womb from which eggs should descend was now invaded by one.

All that followed came in flashes of consciousness found between expanses of searing white-hot pleasure. The egg rummaged around in her violated womb, her Master toying with her, creating an artificial ache which she had found before only in pregnancy. It flooded her reptilian mind with endorphins, it made her docile and yielding to her mate, and it reduced her to a drooling wreck, too ruined to give voice even to words of pleasure.

The warmth of his seed flowed into her core once more. Perhaps for the fourth time. Perhaps more. The upward cant of her hips and the foreplay of his fingers had loosened her well, Human seed melding with her own lubricants, fucked deep into her body and denied escape by the downward force of his rut. It frothed into a lewd spatter, joining their lower bodies with lines of thickened essence, the heat of his cum obscene inside her.

The egg was drawn down again, and this time without the manipulation of Enchantment Magic, Kara was forced to endure the sensation of a birth entwined with catastrophic pleasure. Her Master tore the metal egg from her in an explosion of femcum, licking it clean of her deepest essence, and then forcing it back into her cunt, pressed against her clit, and then deeper, bludgeoning through her internal gate for the process to begin all over again.

She was fucked with the egg until her cervix was made as loose and yielding as her cunt, her womb descended for the entrance to come down, and it was now that Raphael at last set himself to claiming what he had come for. He unsheathed his cock from her undertail, observing the gape left behind with unabashed pride, a blossoming creampie slowly disgorged by the redrawing of overstimulated muscle. He took back the egg as well, and set the head of his masculinity to her cunt.

Even with [Tame] enhancing his maleness to the obscenity of a foot of length, and girth appropriate to such a mass, it had always still been insufficient to fuck Kara as deeply as her womb. And he would claim all of her. It was his right to take every piece of his Pet, even her deepest sanctum, that belonged to him, that was his to defile.

Consciousness returned to Kara as her Master slammed his hips against hers, sinking his cock into her body, through the gate of her cervix, and deep into her descended womb, until he pummelled the back of her insides. The shot of precum which accompanied this penetration was like liquid fire, an invocation of breeding instinct which jolted her back to reality. Her eyes again became clear, her thoughts lucid, and voice returned, “Breed me! Master!"

He was certainly going to give it his best effort.

The sound of fucking Karambit was visceral. The shlicking of her cunt, yes, but also the frothing of the deluge of femcum, the lewd noise of his cum disgorged from her undertail by the ferocity of the ploughing of her cunt, the slap of his potent orbs against wet scales. There was pleasure enough for Raphael to snarl and grunt with desire and effort, his muscles tightened with the effort of rut, his strength set against so large and powerful a female. And the Deathclaw was unashamed in her whorish moans, her horns and spikes grinding the tiles beneath them, her tail slapping down hard against the floor.

Her scent was heady, the musk of a heated scalekin, but it was the Human masculinity near imperceptible against it which Kara locked on to, the odour of her mate in rut, the need of her dominant male. She rocked her body against his thrusts, the breaching of her womb like the fucking of a second, deeper femininity within her. He claimed the Deathclaw with deep plundering thrusts, and as he found orgasm, the pleasure of his seed poured so deep had her reptilian pussy ripple in a mirrored peak of ecstasy.

[Tame] was a cruel Apex Ability. Cruel because this was where Kara collapsed, a consciousness held together with breeding instinct unravelled, and the world was subsumed in a white which this time remained. She fainted, and did so with frustration. Frustration that came with the knowledge of knowing that her mate would keep going, and her mind would be absent for all of the pleasure that would come with that rut. Raphael would fuck her hard and deep, he would not stop until he was satisfied, and her womb bloated with his cum.

But he was her Master. And that was his right.

And that fact let her skull-like face break into a smile as she surrendered beneath him one final time. His breeding female, his slave, his Pet, his owned Deathclaw. Her body his to impregnate, his to defile, his to make sport of. Her life in his service, his Lair to mother over, his hatchlings to raise. This is what she was for. And she was happy. Deeply in love with a mate which loved her back. For Kara – all was right in this nonsense world.

~ SevenWingedDragon ~

Note: Special thanks to User TheMemesWantMemes for the encouragement - I hope to be as based as you inspire. To User Etnom1 for their prophecy. And to user AaAAaAaAaAAAaaHhHhhHhh for their encouragement as always - I hope you enjoy seeing Kara again.

I wanted to do a little more with Bowie and even have the World God swing by, but in the end it didn't really fit (by hook or by crook though, I will find somewhere to put this one!). But it was fun to spend a bit of time inside Kara's head, with how this feral Deathclaw has acclimated to life in the Holy City and what she makes of her changed situation. This Short came at the suggestion of User Sewuyy, so extra thanks to you as well for the idea. I couldn't get an egg laying Interlude with Kara to work, and this Short is kinda my redemption on that. I really hope it landed.

Thanks for the faves, votes, watches, and the views. The number of people subscribed to the folder that this is produced in at time of posting this is almost at fifty, and that makes me weirdly happy. I've been watching it slowly tick up, and it feels like I'm reaching some sort of benchmark. It's pretty fulfilling - so special thanks as always to everyone that's keeping up with this series. You're all legends.

Any other shorts that you're keen to see? I had Kali in mind, but she's ended up surprisingly prominent in Beastlord IV, and if things go to plan then Alp will have a time to shine in the next one, too. Which leaves... Khut? Bravura? Or maybe Raine or Dia if I'm going more current? I have a few ideas, but it's down to you guys if you want to see them. These Shorts are pretty easy and tend to come out all in one sitting, so it's not too troublesome. I hope you enjoy them, either way.

Have a most excellent day.