No CGI: Arc 2 (M/M/F)
Story by Tagenar on SoFurry
A healthy relationship involves knives.
No CGI: Arc 2 (M/M/F)
by tagenar (https://www.furaffinity.net/user/tagenar | https://tagenar.sofurry.com/)
{A healthy relationship involves knives.}
T had given them enough privacy. She nudged the bathroom door just enough to slide her muzzle through. She couldn’t see, but she didn’t need to; the scents of human blood and raptor blood, heavy with testosterone, filled the room.
Human scent and dinosaur blood mixing, hormones rising further and further. T pushed the door open just wide enough to see the shared shower space, noting the door connecting to the next unit was closed.
Charles and J lay on the floor of the shower. The water was on, but very low. They had tried this on the living room floor several times, but it had been too messy. Here, they wouldn’t have to clean up.
They were free to indulge in the rarest scent in the world.
Limbs intertwined, J’s muzzle clamping one of the human’s arms, Charles holding a knife and making a slow incision across J’s muzzle, both inhaling the blood coming from one another.
It was something T only imagined. Something males alone could experience. While females indulged in one another’s heat scent, male raptors were all but forbidden from enjoying the scent of another male’s blood. Evolution intended it to stimulate males to fight harder for a mate—it was all about the females watching. To indulge in the blood scent for its own sake went against nature.
J had long ago told T that he had been part of some groups as a teenager, but he had left it behind.
T reached back and rubbed herself, watching J with another male. A human, at that, who did so well fitting in during the sparring he could pass for a dinosaur. Barely a day went by they didn’t have a new mark on one another.
T smelled something as Charles moaned. J panted and moaned in reply.
They had just cum from the smell of one another’s blood. No hands. No penetration—they had never fucked once. To be turned on by someone’s blood to such an extent one forgot everything else was a feeling T could never experience, but she could appreciate the results. These were new scents coming from J, as well as Charles.
T climaxed just taking in the smells and watching them cut and bite one another, inhaling the wounds. No aggression.
Nobody had told Charles that X was open to recording this. Blood-play vids (?) were among the most risqué things he produced, and he hadn’t made one in a very long time. She wondered if they would go for it.
T had seen the final cut of the sparring video. Almost two hours long and structured so as to save the human’s appearance for the film’s climax, with everyone reacting as if he were an intruder, fighting for the affection of one particular female (T did some closeup reaction shots in post production), only to fall into the blood-covered arms of J, rivals fighting over the same female.
T had rubbed herself just previewing the final cut, imagining all those males fighting over her. X and Comma and the rest of his team had managed to take hours of raw footage and cut it into a loose narrative. Still mostly dinosaurs fighting and clawing one another, lots of shots of dripping slits and puffed raptor vaginas, but still an unexpected opportunity to frame it as a story rather than a utilitarian fetish video.
Charles sliced J down the shoulder. J nuzzled him and clawed the human down his shoulder in reply. Both of them lay together, noses pressed against the wound they had inflicted on the other. T couldn’t tell if they were hard again, but she had been told it didn’t matter; the rarest scent in the world didn’t need to be erotic to be enjoyable.
It had been hours. They both could bleed out or suffer infection if they didn’t know when to stop. Just as in the sparring, T often had to separate them to remind them to recover.
She stepped into the bathroom, clicking her claws on the tile to make her presence known.
Then she closed the door and crouched, watching them openly and letting the room fill up with her scent.
For at least ten minutes, the two males just lay there, limbs intertwined, inhaling one another’s blood-scent. T crouched and waited. She had kept this hidden to be sure it was happening. So few females actually had clutches she had to consult with two of the oldest in the district to confirm.
If it were true, they would know.
T kept rubbing herself watching two rivals indulge.
Another ten minutes went by, and then both of them looked up from one another, turning toward her. T rose to attack stance.
The human and the red-scaled raptor (white spots hidden in blood, both his and the human’s) untangled their arms and legs, scenting in her direction. Somehow, she expected to see Charles react this way. T turned around, raising her tail.
Seconds later, she had two pairs of hands on her thighs, and two faces taking in her scent.
“T?” the red raptor said between breaths.
“What is this?” Charles said. He, too, could barely speak.
They took in her scent so harshly they were pushing her across the tiles. T panted—males giving her this much attention—something about it—the night of the sparring had not ended. Long had she yearned for that feeling never to end, and now...
She waited until they were convinced.
T rose to full height and turned around, meeting both of their faces. She noted they were covered in bleeding lines. They were hard. T reached down and grabbed both of their cocks while they sniffed her.
Two males doting on her. It was as good as a sparring.
She released their dicks and took their hands, guiding them to her belly.
“T, are you—?” Charles said.
She licked his face, taking up some blood.
“How?” J asked. “You’re on [p]ills!”
She bumped her muzzle against his. “It’s a false clutch. It has to [b]e. Just watching you two is enough to [m]ake me cu[m]. I’ll never need dick in [m]e again with you two around.”
Charles looked at J. The red raptor looked at Charles. T took the opportunity to push their faces together.
“Kiss.”
They obeyed, as best as human lips could kiss a raptor’s muzzle. She then turned their faces toward hers.
“[b]oth of you did this to [m]e. [b]oth of you are the father. I [w]anted to be sure it was real [b]efore I told you. I can feel the[m] for[m]ing. It’s just like [m]y [m]other told [m]e.”
She took their hands and raised them up to her muzzle, forcing their heads together, and to look her in the eye.
“I want to share this with [b]oth of you. Laying eggs is a [p]leasure I never thought I’d ex[p]erience. I lay in three weeks. We leave for Hollywood next week. Charles, I want you to co[m]e to Hollywood with us.”
The human hung his jaw, speechless.
She nuzzled him, and then J. “I want [b]oth of you to be there when I lay.”
T released them and turned to the door. They followed her, noses still working, she noted.
She opened the door and walked out.
J: “T, this is serious! We have to register this clutch! We have to tell the ins[p]ectors! They [m]ay not let you leave the state!”
“I’[m] not telling anyone else until we’re in California.”
They were following her. Charles was still sniffing. She looked down her flank at them.
“Clean u[p], you two. I don’t want any infections. We’ll discuss the details when you’re done.”
Dutifully, J nudged the human back into the bathroom, and then the water turned on full. She could hear them washing out one another’s wounds, wincing.
Pain becoming intimacy.
T lay on one of the soft mats in the living room, content with the feeling of life forming in her belly, and the sound of both of her mates in the next room, taking care of one another.
{If you like what I do, consider buying one of my published books. Links below. Thanks!}
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4539730.James\_L\_Steele