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The southern road out of the ruined valley was little more than a ga trail — narrow, rutted, and treacherous under the fading light. Ethan rode at the front on a captured syndicate stallion, the horse’s muscles bunching beneath him with every step. Behind him, Zara rode bareback on a second stolen mount, her powerful thighs clamped tight around the animal’s flanks. She had refused any cloak or covering; the only thing she wore was the drying evidence of Ethan’s claim — thick ropes of cum still leaking slowly from her swollen, gaping pussy, trailing down the insides of her dark thighs in glistening rivulets.
Every few minutes she shifted in the saddle, a low, needy growl rumbling in her throat as the movent rubbed her sensitive folds against the rough leather. Her dark brown tail flicked restlessly, brushing Ethan’s back like a teasing caress. The scent of her arousal — thick, musky, animal — drifted forward on the wind, mingling with the dry grass and distant pine.
"Master..." Her voice was rough, almost a purr. "Your seed hasn’t stopped dripping out of since the valley. Every bounce... every step... it reminds who owns this cunt now."
Ethan didn’t turn, but the corner of his mouth lifted. "Good. Let it remind you. Let every beastkin we pass sll that you’ve been bred by a human. That the chieftain’s mate now belongs to ."
Zara’s ears pinned back, a shudder running through her muscular fra. "Ragnar’s scent is gone. Washed away. Only yours remains. I can feel it... deep inside. Your pups already taking root."
She leaned forward, breasts pressing against his back, nipples hard and scraping through the thin space between them. Her claws flexed against his sides — not enough to hurt, just enough to mark.
Ethan reached back with one hand, sliding it between her thighs without looking. Two thick fingers plunged straight into her cum-slick hole, curling against her front wall. Zara gasped, hips bucking forward, nearly unseating herself.
"Quiet," he ordered, voice low. "Or I’ll stop."
She bit her lip, fangs digging in, a soft whine escaping. "Please... don’t stop... finger your beastkin slave... make drip more..."
He pumped slowly — deliberate, torturous strokes — thumb circling her swollen clit just enough to keep her on the edge. Her pussy clenched greedily around his fingers, fresh juices mixing with the cum already inside her, dripping down his wrist in warm trails.
"You’re going to ride like this all day," he said. "Leaking. Needy. Thinking about how much deeper my cock is going to go tonight."
Zara’s tail wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. "Yes... Master... I’ll ride... I’ll leak... I’ll beg... just don’t make wait too long..."
The teasing continued for hours.
Whenever they paused to water the horses, Ethan would pull her off the saddle, bend her over a boulder, and finger her until she was shaking — then stop, leaving her dripping and whimpering.
"Master... please..." she’d growl, claws scraping stone. "Just once... let cum..."
"No." He’d wipe his fingers on her thigh, mount up, and ride on.
By mid-afternoon, Zara was a wreck — tail thrashing constantly, ears pinned, amber eyes glassy with need. Every step of the horse rubbed her clit against the saddle, every shift sent another trickle of cum and arousal down her legs. She rode in silence now, breath ragged, claws digging into Ethan’s sides as she fought not to beg again.
They stopped at dusk beside a small stream, hidden by a copse of pines.
Ethan dismounted, pulling Zara down with him. She stumbled, legs weak, pussy visibly throbbing.
"On your knees," he said.
She dropped instantly, tail high, ass presented, hands braced on the soft earth.
Ethan circled her slowly, admiring the view — the proud beastkin warrior reduced to a dripping, trembling animal, cum still leaking from her used hole.
"Look at you," he murmured. "Chieftain’s mate... now just my leaking bitch."
Zara whimpered. "Yes... your bitch... please... Master... I can’t take any more teasing..."
He knelt behind her, spreading her thick cheeks. Her pussy gaped slightly, inner walls pink and fluttering. He spat on her hole, watching it drip inside.
"Beg properly."
Zara’s voice broke. "Please... fuck ... ruin again... stretch this traitor cunt... make forget Ragnar’s na forever... breed your beastkin whore... fill until I’m overflowing... until my tribe slls only you on ... please!"
Ethan gripped her tail like a leash — yanking it back hard, forcing her to arch deeper. Then he slamd in — one brutal thrust burying every inch.
Zara scread, claws tearing furrows in the earth, back bowing violently. Her walls clamped like a fist, hot and rippling, milking him instantly.
"Fuck— so tight... your chieftain must’ve had a twig," Ethan snarled, setting a punishing rhythm. Hips slapped against her thick ass, each thrust rocking her forward, heavy breasts swinging beneath her.
Zara’s voice turned primal — growling, moaning, begging. "Harder—! Break —! Breed —! Forget Ragnar—! Only you—!"
Ethan yanked her tail harder, using it like reins. He spanked her ass with his free hand — hard, stinging slaps that left glowing red prints on her dark skin. Each spank made her pussy clench tighter, fresh squirt spraying backward onto his thighs.
"Tell who owns this pussy," he growled.
"You—! Master—! This pussy belongs to you—! Ragnar’s nothing—!"
Another orgasm ripped through her — squirting violently, body convulsing, tail thrashing against his stomach. Ethan didn’t stop — he fucked her through it, forcing her into another peak imdiately.
He flipped her onto her back, legs over his shoulders in a deep mating press. Now face-to-face, he could see every expression — the proud warrior reduced to a drooling, begging ss.
"Look at ," he commanded. "Watch your Master breed you."
Their eyes locked. He pounded down — slow, deep, grinding against her cervix with every thrust. Zara’s claws raked his back, drawing thin lines of blood, but he didn’t care.
"Cum inside... please... flood ... make carry your litter... my tribe will know I belong to you...!"
Ethan’s control shattered.
With a primal roar, he buried himself to the hilt and erupted.
The first rope blasted out like a cannon, painting her womb white. Then another — thicker, hotter — flooding her fertile depths. He kept thrusting through it, stirring his seed, making sure every drop claid her.
Zara scread through her most violent orgasm yet — pussy clamping like a fist, squirting so hard it splashed his abs and chest. Her body convulsed, tail thrashing, ears pinned flat, fangs bared in ecstasy.
He pumped until empty, grinding slow circles, forcing the last spurts deep.
When he finally pulled out, a thick river of cum gushed from her gaping, ruined pussy, pooling beneath her ass on the soft earth.
Zara lay wrecked — panting, trembling, amber eyes glazed with worship. "I’m... yours... forever... Master..."
Ethan stood over her, cock still dripping. "Good girl. Rest. Tomorrow we ride for the spire."
Zara curled against his leg, tail wrapping around his ankle. "I’ll follow you anywhere... breed again tonight... please..."
Ethan smiled darkly. "Soon."
The night was long.
To be continued...
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