Story Roleplay | The Hound's Mate

The beast prowls the night. An infernal killer, clad in shaggy grey fur and fiendish claws, a hellish melding a man and canine. The Hound stalks these woods, the same forest your grandparents taught to you avoid as a child. The Hound is why. And now, as an adult who shirked off fairy tales a long time ago, you violated that promise you made so many years ago and ventured deep into that wild weald. And in so doing, you crossed into the Hound’s territory.

It smelled you long before you ever saw the golden glint of its eyes. It prowled behind you, its lengthy body clad in shadows as its great paws marked the soil. The hot breaths it took as it watched you strip drifted over you as you bathed in its stream. None of this you knew, prey that you had become, as the predator marked you for more than just food.

As you set up your lonely camp that night, did you expect its hellish company? The sounds of animals about you hushed to silence as the Hound approached in your sleep. The fire you kept burning low to ward off such beasts it snuffed out with a kick of sand. The knots that kept the door to your tent closed off from the elements the beast cut one by one with its claws. The sweet slumber you anticipated that night evaporated as the monster’s growl startled you awake.

A scream? No. In the face of death your very throat closed up. Not a sound escaped your trembling lips as the golden-eyed wolf eyed you down. It stripped away your blankets with a swipe of its clawed hand. You wore nothing beneath it. Naked as a fawn, you shivered as it moved atop you. Inches from you face that beast growled low, his muzzled face a mix between beast and man.

Yes, he was male, without a doubt in your mind. The evidence swayed between the Hound’s furred thighs. A great cock, red as blood with his bulbous knot at its base, swelled to life as the monster’s tongue snuck out to lick your cheek and neck. Relaxing just for a moment earned you a snarl from the monster, and its teeth about your throat. Your feeble weeping seemed to invigorate the beast, and you could feel its excitement slither up your bare thigh to supreme hardness.

But as you submit to it, the beast lets go. The pinpricks of its fangs leave your neck in favor of your tits, heaving with your panicked breaths. The Hound’s great maw tenses about them, jaws able to crush the life from any animal that crossed it now testing how yielding and soft your womanly mounds are. The beast liked them it seemed from the bestial sigh it made and the way its tongue lashed out over your hardening nipples.

Yes, you couldn’t help yourself. The fear mixed with its lewd touching to kindle something deep inside you. An urge you felt only as you imagined the steamiest romances or naughtiest fantasies. This beast drew it out of you from somewhere deeper than stories however. Somewhere primal. And now the Hound snorted as if noticing the change in your body, and buried its muzzle between your legs.

By instinct your thighs snapped shut like a trap about its furred head. Its muffled growl joined with its wrenching of your legs apart once more. No trap could hold such a beast, least of all from you. Your womanhood was bared to the beast’s carnal lusts and hunger, and there was nothing you could do to stop its thick tongue from dragging along your tender folds.

It roved. It lapped. It tasted. From the base of your wanting sex to the pinnacle of your throbbing clit, the beast’s big tongue slathered your whole slit in saliva. It would be a lie to say it did not feel good. An understatement for certain. In moments the monster had your hips bucking, grinding against the cold of its canine nose that nuzzled against your clit as the heat of its tongue delved deep into your tight hole. Its snuffling grunts and heady growls vibrated down to the core of your femininity, and in moments your orgasm seized you. The beast did not stop until your back arched and your juicy quim poured into its thristy maw, and let you go only after your panting breaths rendered you limp and helpless to its mounting.

You realized it was testing your taste and preparing you to take his giant canine dick. Over and over, licking and lapping and tasting your every inch till your pussy gleams with drool and drips with need. Only then did the Hound release you to claim you as his. On your back you marvel as the dangerous creature lines his wolfhood up with your tight hole. A batter ram brought to the gates of your womanhood. Bare, twitching, its tapered tip caught its mark, and with a deep groan the Hound thrust in.

Agony, the kind that only accompanies the aching need to be filled and satisfied, stretched and ripped through your core. Your belly distended as the monster’s massive cock pressed in, beginning to rut deep and fast in doggish manner. Your human hole wasn’t meant to take a demon’s cock, but in mere strokes it wanted to. Without realize it you find your hands gripping the soft fur covering its chest, masculine beyond any man you’ve ever known, and reveling in the beat its feral hips make against yours.

To feel that hard beat, familiar in its rabid strokes yet every time bringing new pleasures streaking through your system. Nerves sing as that canine battering ram strikes at your very core, the Hound intent on breeding his bitch. There was nothing to stop the monster from accomplishing just that. The bare flesh of its member rubbed against every inner wall and ridge, and nothing would spare your fertile womb from its inevitable release.

Tongue lolling out, grunting, gasping, growling – the beast’s sounds are those of a male in rut, and accompany a new sensation. A great weigh slams against your pussy now as the beast drives ever deeper. It’s the Hound’s knot, swelling up even now as lust courses through the terrible orb’s abominable veins. It beats against your stretched and abused pussy lips, demanding passage into your fertile channel.

You remember how the dogs on the property would be in springtime, before the Fall brought your family their litters. The males would press in until their bitch was knotted, and they never failed to give her puppies after that. As an orgasm winds up within your stomach, you know that catching that knot before it breaks into you is the only way you will escape this without a belly full of the Hound’s pups.

But your hands do not move to protect yourself from that fate. Instead they tighten around the beast’s wild hips. Your legs raise up in utter surrender as the Hound batters your pussy into submission. Your gasp as the beast’s teeth close in about your throat again, leaving their mark on your skin. The Hound’s mark. In that moment when your mind finally catches up to your body, when your soul submits to the untamable beast astride you, that is when you feel the great swell of its knot press against you hard, unrelenting, until it disappears into your body with a hard shunt.

You cum as the Hound claims your sex so completely, and the beast howls in triumph and unleashes inside you. A flood of devilish semen gushes out into your squirming body, bathing your pussy in the thick cream of an unholy animal. At the gates of your womb the tapered head erupts rope after rope, filling your sacred depths more fully than your body can hold. So much does the Hound unload that even the tight fit of its knot cannot hold back the tides of spunk that coat your shaking thighs in oozing jizz from its wolfhood’s great, pulsing throbs.

Flooded with doggie spunk and knotted to you, your beast continues to rut. His eyes are wild with lusts both satisfied and lingering, thrusting as the sound between your legs turns from a subtle slicking to a lewd squelch as churned-up cum pours out of your used and knotted hole. And before your latest orgasm even ends another bursts within you as you surrender completely to your fate, to your new mate, until the twinkling stars of ecstasy fade into total blackness…

The morning light awakens you so many hours later. Your tent lies in tatters about yourself, your camp in total disarray at the Hound’s departure. Like the fantasy it once was it is now gone, leaving behind only destruction and the sodden mess of its primal duty. Your body is sore from countless scratches and bites, and your pussy aches from the aftermath of such a wild fucking. As you stand you feel the spend from the mating pour out from inside your used body as even more sloshes about within your womb – too deep to come out.

The hike home will be long with only torn clothes to wear, but the spring air is welcoming. And somehow you know the Hound is still watching, somewhere unseen. Would he follow you back to your home on the edge of the woods, stalk as a silent predator would to find his newest mate lived alone in such a cozy cottage?

The doubt such a thing could happen ebbed away with every step you take, for you hear amid the songs of birds and scrabbling creatures the sound of twigs snapping beneath great steps, and from time to time you can hear the low-pitched breathing of some unnamable beast just out of sight.

It only makes sense that the Hound will follow you home. What good father would ever abandon his mate once he knew she was bred and carrying his children? Even then, as you pet your hand over the flat of your belly, you know that soon it will swell with the Hound’s wild offspring, neither human nor beast.

And nothing else in this world could make your smile as widely as you did at the thought of having a little of your Hound’s pups.

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