Mag-log inMy eyelids fluttered, heavy as if weighed down by wet earth. Consciousness returned in fragments—first the warmth, then the impossible softness beneath me, and finally… the sensation between my legs.Something hot, wet, and insistently broad was dragging slowly across my most intimate flesh.I kept my eyes closed at first, my mind foggy, convinced I was trapped in some fever dream. The night air had been cold and sharp; now a thick, musky heat surrounded me. My cloak was gone. My thin linen shift had been pushed up to my waist, baring me completely. A low, rumbling purr vibrated against my inner thighs, and that wide, slick tongue licked me again—long, slow, thorough—from the tight pucker of my rear all the way up to the sensitive hood of my clit.A shudder tore through me. Disgust rose sharp and immediate in my throat. This was wrong. Monstrous. But beneath the revulsion, a treacherous heat bloomed low in my belly, tingling and spreading outward with every deliberate stroke.Gods… h
The night air hung heavy with the sharp bite of pine resin and the lingering ghost of woodsmoke from the village hearths. It clung to everything—my hair, the rough wool of my cloak, the thin linen shift that barely reached my knees. I drew the cloak tighter around my shoulders, feeling the scratch of coarse fibers against my skin as I moved. My bare feet whispered over the damp forest floor, each step placed with aching care. One snapped twig, one careless rustle, and I would be finished.Behind me, the Whitethorn Pack slumbered in their longhouses, the thatched roofs dark silhouettes against the star-scattered sky. Only faint orange glows flickered here and there where a hearth still fought against the chill. Tomorrow was the Choosing. The night every maiden in the pack both dreaded and secretly craved.I had felt it coming for weeks, a cold certainty lodged deep in my belly like the approach of my moon blood. The elders had spoken the sacred words at the last full moon gathering, t
Monday morning came too quickly.I barely slept the night before. My body was still sore in the most delicious places — between my thighs, my breasts, and deep inside where that man………Elias had fucked me so thoroughly. Every time I moved, I could feel the faint ache and remembered how he had stretched me open, how deep he had gone, how he had made me cum over and over again like a desperate little slut.I had overslept at his penthouse. When I finally woke up it was already noon. I left in a rush, still wearing the skimpy dress from the club, my hair a mess and my makeup smudged. By the time I got home, it was almost evening.My parents were furious.“Where have you been, Lydia?!” Mom shouted the moment I walked through the door. “We were worried sick! We called Sarah and she said you'd soon be on your way home and that was hours ago.”Dad looked deeply disappointed. “We trusted you, Lydia. This behavior is unacceptable.”I apologized repeatedly, head down, cheeks burning with shame.
I stood in front of my bedroom mirror, nervously adjusting my sweater for the hundredth time. At Seventeen, I had always been the good girl — straight A’s, early curfews, and parents who trusted me completely. Friday nights were for studying or watching movies at home, not… whatever Sarah had planned.A few minutes later her call came through.“It's still a no.” I told her.“Come on, Lids. Live a little!” Sarah groaned through the phone. “It’s the start of the weekend, Lids. One night at the club won’t kill you. We’ll dance, have fun, and be back before anyone notices.”“I can’t,” I whispered, biting my lip. “My parents would never allow it. They still think I’m their innocent little girl.”Sarah laughed. “Then don’t tell them the truth. Just say you’re coming over to study for next week’s exams at my place. Sleep over. Easy.”After almost thirty minutes of her begging and promising it would be harmless fun, I finally caved. I went downstairs and lied straight to my parents’ faces.
The moonlight felt like a spotlight on my naked skin as the maids removed the last piece of silk from my body. I stood completely bare on the raised stone platform in the middle of the vast clearing. Hundreds of male — tall, muscular, wild-looking men of Winchester Forest — surrounded the platform in a wide circle. Their eyes devoured me with raw, ravenous hunger.I trembled, trying to cover my heavy breasts and smooth pussy with my hands, but Victor stepped behind me and firmly pulled my arms behind my back.“No hiding,” he whispered hotly against my ear. “Let them see every inch of their new forest whore.”Low, hungry murmurs rippled through the crowd:“Fuck… look at those massive tits…”“Her cunt is already glistening…”“Perfect breeding body… I can’t wait for my turn…”The lust on their faces was unmistakable. Some men were already palming the huge bulges in their pants, eyes dark with barely contained desire. My cheeks burned with shame, yet my traitor pussy throbbed and leaked
I drifted in and out of a hazy, pleasure-drunk sleep until the soft click of the door woke me. Four elegant maids in tight black-and-silver uniforms entered the lavish Victorian room, carrying silver trays with steaming water, fragrant oils, and plush towels. “Oh… please, I can clean myself,” I whispered shyly, trying to cover my naked, cum-stained body with the ruined sheet. My cheeks burned with humiliation. The head maid smiled gently but firmly. “Lord Victor’s orders, miss. You must be properly prepared for the Fold.” They stripped the sticky sheets away, leaving me completely exposed. Warm, scented cloths glided over my heavy breasts, carefully wiping away the dried cum coating my stiff nipples. Another maid spread my trembling thighs wide and pressed a warm cloth to my swollen, puffy pussy, gently cleaning the thick seed leaking from my freshly-fucked hole. “She’s still dripping so much,” one maid murmured, almost reverently. “The Lord filled her womb so deeply.” Ev
The cage door is still ajar from when I released them at dawn.They haven’t moved far—kneeling on the thick black rug in the center of the room, foreheads pressed together, breathing in shallow, synchronized pants. Their bodies are a map of last night’s wreckage: rope burns circling wrists and ankl
My name is Emily, and I’ve always been the good girl—or at least, that’s what everyone thought. Growing up in a quiet suburban town, I was the straight-A student, the one who volunteered at the local shelter and never missed curfew. But deep down, there was a fire burning, a restlessness that I kep
I barely had time to catch my breath before Lilithara’s tail tightened around my throat—not choking, just a firm, possessive collar of warm leather that reminded me who owned every gasp I took.She rolled off me only long enough to drag an antique-looking wooden chair from the corner of my bedroom
The house felt too quiet after he left that afternoon. Sunlight had shifted across the walls, turning golden, then soft orange, then gone. I stayed in my room for hours, still naked under the thin sheet, body humming with the memory of him inside me. Every time I moved, I felt the faint ache betwee







