Always having her own agenda, Scylla had left pack lands to test out her newest creation. She was hunting, in a fashion. The woman wouldn't be satisfied with her experiment unless she located the proper subject. Since her concoction was designed to take down a larger sized wolf, that's what Scylla was on the hunt for. The brilliant fae wasn't in a murderous mood this very day, which was surprising. Today was about science and testing out her work. She'd done a damn lot to cultivate the sedative that she would hopefully try on another wolf today.

The evening was mild. Though there was a dusting of snow, the temperature wasn't unbearable. The animals were taking advantage while they could and Scylla watched all manner of creatures creeping down the natural pathway before her. The path of least resistance was what most animals took, especially in winter. That was why the tiny fae had chosen this place. There was a great chance that the path would lead at least one or two wolves past her.

From her place nestled at a higher altitude than the path, the woman's dual-toned eyes scanned first one way then the next. The shadows from the naked branches above crisscrossed over the woman's slate and cream form, helping her to blend in with the snow spattered surroundings. From off in the distance, Scylla heard a little bark as her bushdog alerted her to the approach of a wolf. The light was quickly waning and visibility was getting worse and worse. When the wolf came into view, its form was muddied by the greyness of the evening. Despite not being able to see detail, Scylla could see that the wolf was large enough for her experiment. Perfect.

The wolf drew nearer as it progressed down the path. Scylla could tell that the wolf had a crimson looking pelt, but everything else was still muddied. Quietly and smoothly, the woman took up a hollow bamboo shoot that was dried and polished. Into it, she carefully placed a paw-crafted dart, the sharp tip dipped into the concoction of sedatives that she'd created. With her dexterous paws, Scylla gripped the bamboo between her toes, raising it near to her lips so that she would be ready the moment that the wolf was within range.

One step... another. Ah, there. Inhaling deeply, Scylla placed the edge of the bamboo against her muzzle. Cheeks puffing, she blew hard. The dart flew and her aim was true, thanks to all of the practice that she'd been doing. The sharp tip of the dart lodged itself in the thick muscle of the wolfs flank, delivering a hefty dose of sedative to the unsuspecting canine. She saw the wolf jerk as the dart struck, but she didn't see the rest. Already the woman was packing her supplies back into her pack. It would give her enough time for the sedative to set in, cutting down on the amount of danger to her. Once packed up, the sleek fae slid from her perch and began to pick her way down the path towards her victim whom she could see up ahead laying in the snow.

"Scylla Klein"

With winter came shorter days and longer nights, especially in the northern territories of Boreas. Saracyn had not anticipated staying out past sundown when he'd gone off on his hunting trip to replenish some of the furs for Elysium's storage now that they were seeing new members and pups being added to their census, but they weren't any sort of punches he couldn't roll with. The pale argent moonlight lit up the snow-dusted world, and over head bands of vibrant colors danced about as the aurora borealis made its faint appearance in the northeast. It was a beautiful sight that reminded him of the day about a year ago now that he had spent with Avacyn together, the two siblings cutting a bloody swath across the land. They had both matured since then, taken on more responsibilities and higher roles within the pack, meaning they didn't have as much time to goof off like they had when they were yearlings. Those memories would always remain cherished treasures to the brute though.

Carrying his bundle of pelts he'd skinned himself from snow leopards and ermines up in the nearby mountain range just south of Elysium lands, Saracyn made his way through the snow covered thicket of dense trees and gnarled branches. The dire brute stood out against the pristine and undisturbed snow like a splatter of fresh blood, red against white in sharp contrast, even in the low light. Being out on his own didn't unsettle or worry the Mendacium prince; why would it? He was large and strong enough to fend for himself and take on anything that was stupid enough to threaten him out in the wild lands. Like his father, he was fearless bordering on reckless. Stopping for the night never even crossed his mind as he padded his way through the thicket, giant paws crunching the freshly fallen snow into tightly packed tracks in his wake. Sara followed the well worn path headed west, then north back toward his home. How happy his mother would be with his contributions to the pack.

Rounding a bend in the path, Saracyn heard a symphony of evening life around him. The cry of an eagle, the distant bark of a hound, the gentle whisper of wind in his ears. What he didn't hear, however, was whatever the hell had come out of nowhere to bite him on his flank. Sara yipped in surprise, rounding about quickly to see what foolish creature had tried to attack the mighty dire wolf—only to see nothing behind him but his own tracks and growing darkness. Brows furrowed over narrowed cerulean eyes as the prince scoured the tree line. What the hell had just hit him then? As Saracyn moved, he felt something stuck in his flesh, something foreign and lodged in his skin. Curling about on himself, he investigated his stinging hindquarters. It only took him a moment to discover the strange dart sticking out of his flank just behind his thigh. With a head tilt, he gently pried the dart from his muscle with a paw, inspecting it curiously. A sniff test to be safe... and Saracyn was greeted with a bitter herbal smell. Though he was no healer, Sara didn't need to be an expert to recognize the stench of the herbs healers used for their medicines and pharmaceuticals. But... where had it come from?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, Saracyn suddenly began to notice a sensation of tingling numbness growing in his thigh where the dart had struck him. Sara eyed the dart again, studying it curiously—and then it was gone. He blinked, confused. A glance down confirmed it was lying in the snow now. He had dropped it. That was when the prince realized his paws had begun to feel the same tingling too to the point where he couldn't flex his digits or keep a grip held as the numbness overtook his extremities. A panic began to grow within the brute, his breathing increasing in rate as he stumbled backwards through the snow, only managing to take a couple of steps before he lost all control of his legs. Sara saw the white earth coming up to meet his face, and then he was collapsed in the snow, breathing heavy and growling to himself. Losing control of his body was a strange and worrying sensation. What the fuck was going on with him?! All around him the world began a slow spin, his vision swimming as the drugs did their work on his brain and nervous system, shutting down his fine motor control while leaving his vitals unharmed.

Sara tried to rise again, but wound up face planting into the snow again, his rump unceremoniously held aloft in the air by wobbly legs he could no longer feel. His tail swayed limp behind him, his eyes still able to move and perceive his world, but now wholly unable to do anything but lie there, paralyzed and confused. Saracyn grunted and growled, his deep voice beginning to wobble as even the muscles controlling his vocal cords went offline, while he tried to force his body to stand or move at all, but the sedative had done its job and rendered him immobile. Now in full effect, Saracyn could only collapse back to the snow again, trapped in this strange experience where he was a helpless passenger within his own body.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

The small woman picked her way through the thicket, growing ever closer to the path where her prey waited. The moon had shimmied its way into the sky, casting its glittering glow upon the crystalline snow. There was ample light now that dusk had given way to night. That little in between time usually gave one a harder time seeing. There was no trouble now, however, and Scylla slid her slender frame beneath one low hanging, naked branch before she was on the clear path. Gingerly, the delicate woman used the pawprints of the brute so that she could keep herself as dry and ice free as possible. In the distance, she could see the hulking form of the man laying in the center of the path. Oh goodie!

There was no wind, but the closer she came to the wolf, the more little alarms went off inside her skull. Familiar. This scent was familiar. Brows drew together and Scylla put on a little speed, loping towards the form that grew larger and larger. The scent grew stronger and by the time she arrived at the black and red body, Scylla was inwardly grimacing. It was Saracyn. Of all the fucking wolves in the world, she had to dart one that hated her. And also one that she lived with. Just great.

"Oh, Strawberry..." Scylla sighed as she moved around in front of the man, her gaze meeting his. She hadn't seen him since her return. He'd grown. Though he was about as tall as he had been last time, Sara had filled out and looked rather manly, if she did say so herself. With another sigh, she seated herself before him, using her paws to gently clear the snow off of his face from his... abrupt stop. Digits ran lightly over his damp fur until he was clean. The woman's dual-toned gaze fell upon the stack of furs and she drew it close, using all of her might to lift the big lugs head and place it on the furry pillow.

"What a predicament," she spoke in breathy, contemplative tones. She sat within the man's field of vision, curling her long tail around dainty little paws. The woman sat tall, or as tall as she could manage with her small stature, the moon above wreathing her in soft light. "I was working on a sedative to benefit the pack. I hadn't expected anyone from Elysium to come this way, let alone you." A third sigh pulled from her and she began to speak again, this time in clearer, more clinical tones. "The sedative won't last terribly long and should only leave you with a mild headache, if anything. You'll gradually begin to gain control of your faculties once more. Your voice should return before your limbs are fully functional." She hadn't given him the full dose. Just enough to knock him out. Based on the dosage and his size, she imagined he'd be back to his pissy, volatile self in a little over an hour.

Scylla's lips pursed for a moment and she wrinkled her nose, flashing pristine white teeth for a second. "You also may be subject to an unwanted erection." She remembered this only because it seemed as though this was already the case. "Sorry about that," she shrugged lightly, tail thumping once in the snow. That urge was there within her. The urge to do something terribly naughty while her childhood foe was incapacitated. Ohhh, but should she? Blue and grey eyes narrowed slightly as she looked down upon the prone form of Saracyn. It would be so easy to just take what she wanted from him.

"Scylla Klein"

Left immobile and completely out of control of his body, the poor Elysian prince could do nothing but lie there in the snow, wondering who would ambush a wolf like this out in the wild lands, and more importantly who he would be eviscerating for their insolence to attack a Mendacium prince of all wolves! As if the fates were reading his mind and conspiring to make a mockery of him, a soft, almost lyrical female voice spoke out behind him, calling him by a nickname he hadn’t heard in several seasons. Had he any control over his muscles, Saracyn’s ears would have pricked up at he voice. He recognized that voice… but it couldn’t be. And yet there she emerged into his vision, gazing down at him with what he could only assume was disappointment in her mismatched eyes. Scylla had come back. She was older now, naturally, and had matured into a young adult fae. She no longer had all the lanky, awkward features that had earned her the nickname of squirrel-thing from the brute in their adolescence. Rather, she had become this graceful, svelte creature, wreathed in silver moonlight that practically made her fur glow. She was still ludicrously small, and even collapsed onto his side she was only just above him. But there was something different about her now... a confidence that hadn't been there before, a proudness in who she was. This was not the same Scylla he had known as a teenager.

Sara’s breathing caught in a sharp hiss of surprise, bright cerulean irises still moving and focused to show he was conscious and aware, but unable to even lift his head to look at her properly. His brows twitched in a weak glower, barely able to narrow while a vibrating growl rumbled in his throat. He tried to say her name, but only mumbled sounds came from his throat, his vocal cords reverting back to baser sounds only. His mind tried to will his body to move, to lunge out at Scylla, but all it did was make his taut muscles flex and ripple gently beneath his fur coat, his entire nervous system frozen in stasis. She continued to speak as she cleaned the snow from his face and gathered up his dropped furs and made them into a makeshift pillow. His entire body felt like it was made of lead as she manipulated and moved him—heavy and dead weight, but still entirely perceptive to the sensation of touch. He could feel every stroke of her dexterous digits over his face and her paws cradling his head as if his nerves were still fully functional, but could do nothing in response.

Scylla detailed what her intentions out here had been and how he had wound up an unfortunate victim in her plans. Then she began to describe in detail how her sedative worked. At least he knew it wouldn't be permanent... Another low growl rumbled in the young brute's throat, but it was more of annoyance than aggression. Not like he could do anything about it anyway. Already he was looking forward to his voice coming back first, if for no other reason than to chew her out for sedating him like this. As she was explaining her sedative's effect, Saracyn began to feel a stirring between his thighs, strong enough to break through the tingling numbness of his paralysis. Unable to look down, he was incapable of confirming what he suspected was happening, but he didn't need to look to know what he was feeling. Scylla wrinkled her nose and smiled this impish little girl at him then and confirmed his dread—the sedative had affected his blood flow in more ways than one. Cheeks flushing with embarrassment at this compromising position she had left him in, Saracyn huffed and growled again, his sounds warbling the longer he tried to maintain them.

Saracyn glared back up at Scylla while she looked him over, clearly pleased with how her sedative was working on him, despite him not being her intended target. He didn't like how her mismatched eyes kept drifting down towards his hind legs though, knowing that all of his maleness was out on display for her against his will. But then the petite fae got this look in her eyes—this sinister, naughty gleam that Sara hadn't seen in her before. Whatever she was thinking, it was something very pleasing to her though. What the hell was she thinking that got that sort of look from her? He huffed again, watching Scylla through smoldering eyes while he waited for the effects of the sedative to wear off. When he got control of his body again, ohh how he was going to make her pay for this humiliation...

"Saracyn Mendacium"

He was angry. Of course he was angry. She would have been angry as well and couldn't blame him for that one bit. The growls that he forced out were broken and uncontrolled, but there was no mistaking his displeasure at the situation. No one wanted to be helpless like that, especially with someone that they blatantly disliked. Scylla remembered their drunken time together. She'd quite liked him then. Inebriated, he'd let his guard down a little and she could see a little of his depth. That like had held on once she was sober. He may still dislike her, but she didn't dislike him.

Blue and cream ears perked as Saracyn tried to growl again. Scylla rolled grey and blue eyes, giving her head a little shake. "Yes, you're upset. I get it." There was a glint in her gaze as she spoke again. "You don't have to worry though, I won't tell anyone and I'll protect you while you're...indisposed." She looked towards his raging erection once more and her decision was made. When would she ever get such a chance again to hold such power over him? Best enjoy herself now and deal with whatever the consequences may be later. "Yes, I'll take good care of you."

Rising from her place in the snow, Scylla stalked towards Saracyn as though he was nothing more than prey. Coming up before him, she grazed her nose across his cheek, her warm breath steaming in the winter air. She absorbed his scent, giving a soft sound of appreciation for his cleanliness. Scylla detested smelly males. She'd run into quite a few on her travels. So close, her grey eye stared straight into his blue before she moved from his cheek to his neck. Here's where she had her first bit of fun.

A wolf such as Saracyn would hate to be so vulnerable with someone that he didn't trust. Wouldn't he hate it even more if such tender places were free game? Lazily, Scylla's tongue pulled over the brute's throat just under his jaw. Another sound of pleasure pulled from her, the feeling of power bringing about urgent fluttering in her lower belly. No doubt the smell of her heat would be thick in the air, but that mattered little to the fae. Gently, Scylla applied teeth, grazing Saracyn's pulse point blatantly, but not enough to hurt. Just enough to let him know that she could. The blue and cream fae licked the red man's throat once more before she placed a little kiss there for good measure. Then she moved along.

Down the brute's obsidian belly she went, touch and caressing as she wished. It was difficult to take her eyes away from his belly as he was standing so proudly before her. She didn't want to wait, so she didn't. Maw parting, Scylla took that pride into her mouth, tongue meeting the chilled length first. The woman fed at him, quite skilled for someone her age. Her tongue flicked and curled, undulating so that no scrap of Saracyn was neglected. A pleasured, breathy moan drifted through pink nares. She could tell by his breathing that he was feeling pleasure and this, in turn, brought her even more pleasure. The first hint of his flavor hit her tongue and Scylla slowly pulled back, releasing him for a moment. "Just as sweet as a strawberry should be," the woman whispered in lust filled tones before opening her maw once more and, in one movement, she took him in to the hilt.

"Scylla Klein"

To say he was upset was a gross understatement. Saracyn was furious, aggravated, and more than a little embarrassed at the current predicament he found himself in. Were it any other wolf that had ambushed him on his way home, it would have been a traditional fight that he no doubt would have been able to hold his own in. Scylla had taken some sneaky underhanded route and poisoned him from afar. Had she just tried to attack him, he would have broken her in half life a dry twig. Knowing that he had been a random target of her macabre fascination did little to assuage his humiliation either. Scylla tried to reassure him that she'd look over him while he remained incapacitated and take good care of him, but the way she purred those words out with a mischievous little glint in her mismatched eyes did nothing to bring him any comfort. If anything, it just made him all the more wary of her, especially when that gaze shifted back down towards his lower half. He knew what she was looking at; that grin on her lips told him everything that was on her mind. His leer stayed fixed to her, having nowhere else to look or no other way to communicate, shooting her a warning look as if to say "Don't you dare".

Scylla, of course, dared. Saracyn was forced to watch with uncontrolled impassivity while the slate and cream fae lifted her slender body up and stalked towards him, looking at him like some wounded animal she intended to devour. There was an eagerness in her eyes, an excitement that sent chills down his spine. Her nose grazed his cheek, a cerulean eye holding the gaze of her gray jewel, and a slow exhale from the brute formed a thin fog at the end of his muzzle. Although he could not move a muscle, he could still feel every touch she placed upon his body—in fact, some sensations even felt heightened by his drug-induced paralysis, his nerves hypersensitive when her warm tongue pulled over his vulnerable throat. Electricity rolled over Sara's skin from the contact, drawing a shuddering rumble from the brute, little stuttering breaths of steam pouring from open lips. Scylla sampled his scent here, breathing in his natural musk hinted with the smell of Alias' woods and the bergamot oils he bathed with. He felt her fangs on his tender throat, nipping at skin right above his beating pulse. She was expressing her dominance over him in this moment, flexing the power she held.

The sound of pleasure the slate and ivory fae made sent another shiver through him, followed up by another lick and kiss to the soft spot on his neck, this time coaxing a huff of breath and lower rumble from Saracyn in the process. He was resisting the sensations Scylla was giving him as best he could, but the little minx was targeting all of his erogenous zones like she had a map to them. Where the hell had she learned to do this? His eyes shifted down, trying to follow Scylla's descent as she vanished from his view, but without being able to move his head at all, Saracyn was instead left with a rather good view of Scylla's shapely rump while she continued to tease and torment him. The pheromone-laden scent of her heat pouring off of her in waves was indeed senses by the brute, and with breathing being one of the few things he could do, Sara was forced to drink deep of the intoxicating aroma, those pheromones activating primal parts of his brain regardless of his own personal feelings of their situation.

Down and down he felt Scylla's touch descend, moving over his torso and belly at her own leisure. Each surprise touch sent a little quiver through the crimson wolf, making all of his muscles tense and flex, including those between his thighs. He could feel Scylla drawing closer to his maleness, and then all at once she was there. Warmth and wetness surrounded him, drawing a surprised sound from Saracyn as pleasure suddenly lanced through his body. The striped fae touched and teased him with expertly placed motions of her tongue, teasing and pleasing in ways that made Sara's hips twitch and toes curl. Hypersensitive nerves sent hot waves of pleasure radiating out through him, and despite his initial resistance, Saracyn couldn't stop cerulean eyes from rolling behind fluttering eyelids and his breathing turning short and sporadic. Scylla's own moans as she fed at him made his core clench hard, and once she got a taste of his flavor, he felt the warm embrace of her maw slide off of him.

Saracyn nearly groaned in disappointment when he felt the cold winter air touch his bare flesh again, but Scylla's words swiftly silenced him. The lust in her whisper made his fur stand on end, ripples of ecstasy jolting through his every nerve like electricity. Saracyn was no stranger to the touch of a female, but being rendered so helpless and in Scylla's control while she took her pleasure from him and used him as she pleased did things to him he never expected he would enjoy the feel of. He rumbled deep in his chest in reply—that rumbling soon turning into a deep, throaty groan as Scylla swallowed him down til he felt her nose meet his belly and her warm maw surrounded the length of him. Blue eyes rolled back in his skull again, thighs flexing on reflex but unable to even buck or thrust. He held nothing back from her now, forced to enjoy the ride he was a hostage of while she manipulated his body like a master, making his male parts respond in ways she wanted and earning her as much of his flavor as she desired. The brute's breathing grew faster, shifting and changing with everything she did to him and communicating what he enjoyed as she pulled him closer and closer to euphoric release.

"Saracyn Mendacium"

Saracyn really hated her, right? This was certainly such torture for him to suffer through. Scylla could think of worse ways to spend her evening than taking advantage of someone who would have never chosen to bed her on his own. His nose was too far up his sisters tailhole to look at anyone else, she'd heard. In fact, he even smelled like her now. It didn't bother the woman at all; the fact that he was banging his sibling. That would definitely be hypocritical on her part, wouldn't it? What did bother her was that he had always acted as though he was superior. Well... right now she was proving otherwise.

With her throat relaxed, Saracyn slid home like a sword to its scabbard. The blue fae had been left to her own devices out in the wild for quite some time. In that time, she'd learned many new things, this being one of them. Saracyn would be the first that got to experience such pleasure. Well... the first one that was granted his life afterwards. No one ever expected death from the tiny, svelte fae. That's what made it so easy. Sara was in no danger of joining the dead this day. If he died on his own from pleasure though, well... that wasn't her fault.

Though her throat was occupied, Scylla's tongue stroked and curled, sliding around the brutes length while her head dipped and lifted. One paw slid forward, wiggly fingers gentle as they grasped and toyed with the furry orbs hanging below. A lover that always took the initiative, she would do everything in her power to bring Saracyn to the heights of pleasure. She listened to his breathing, could feel the tension in his body, even the way that his balls drew up as she worked them, they were all signs that the fae paid careful attention to.

Again and again Scylla lowered her hot mouth down upon the giant man's length. Once it felt as though he was close, she increased her pace, working him expertly until she could feel just how full he was. When Saracyn was ready, the fae pushed the limits, squeezing him into her throat while her long tongue protruded outward, sliding over the brutes tightly drawn up bits as he emptied himself against his will. The corners of Scylla's maw turned up in a smile despite having her mouth quite full.

Once he was finished, the woman released him. She breathed deeply, taking in the sweet oxygen that she'd deprived herself of during their session together. She was careful not to leave a mess and she was nice enough to move the man's leg so that it covered his bits once more. It wouldn't do to have him get frostbite. Licking her lips, Scylla turned and moved back up the length of the giant's body so that she could look him in the eye. "Mmm, it didn't seem like you hate me as much as you pretend to." She enjoyed irritating him and he knew it.

Saracyn should have regained use of his vocal chords, but she wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't. This was a test batch, after all. Since they would still be here a while longer until he regained full control of his limbs, Scylla would have to stick close. Lifting one of the man's big forelegs, the diminutive fae slid beneath it, placing them chest to chest. If she was going to stay here with him, she at least wanted to be warm. Scylla tucked her pretty pink nose under Sara's chin and gave a small sigh of content as she settled.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"

Saracyn knew he should have felt some sort of shame. He should have felt some sort of anger or rage for this humiliation. He should have been planning some sort of vengeance on the diminutive fae for these debased acts on him. Instead, all Saracyn could think of was how damn good Scylla's mouth felt around him. His mind was blank with pleasure, cerulean blue eyes rolling back behind fluttering red eyelids as wave after wave of hot, brain-melting pleasure washed over him with every movement and motion the slate and cream striped woman made over and around him. The only other fae he had slept with was Avacyn, and as much as he loved her, there was just something so intense and sordid about how Scylla was treating him that would have made his toes curl if he had any control over them. He had thought Scylla disliked him as much as he disliked her given how tumultuous their interactions had always been, but now even he was questioning if he hated her after this. It was awfully hard to hate someone when they were rolling their tongue around your... oh gods, that felt good!

Saracyn let out another throaty moan as Scylla continued her expert work over him, precise and practiced ministrations unwinding him like a ball of twine wound up too tightly. His heart was pounding in his chest fast and strong, his breathing evolved into a shallow panting that formed thin clouds of steam at the end of his muzzle as Scylla stole the breath from him over and over again. Despite how furious he had been at the start of this, Sara wished he could gaze down the length of his body to watch the blue fae at work, just to see if it was as hot as it felt for him. There was something so erotic about being put totally out of control, left to stare numbly out at the thick woods around them while she took advantage of him, not knowing what would be coming next with every slide of her muzzle around his length and glide of her tongue over his sensitive spots. The sudden brush of a soft paw on his balls drew a shuddering gasp from the brute, his muscles rippling uselessly beneath his coat from the contact and the sensations of Scylla's dexterous digits massaging and working him over. That was entirely something new and unique even Avacyn couldn't replicate! It did make Saracyn briefly wonder just how many times she had done this to other brutes to get this talented—but even that thought was wiped away with the next swallow she made around him.

Reduced to a shivering, moaning mess, Sara rode those tidal waves of pleasure while Scylla pulled out all the stops to blow his mind while she blew him. Resistance was futile at this point; the petite fae had the brute exactly where she wanted him. Trapped inside his paralysis, the crimson prince could do nothing but lie back and enjoy. He wondered if this would have felt any different if he had his faculties about him, or if perhaps the nature of Scylla taking what she wanted from him was what turned him on so much. Almost too soon nature took its course, and within due time, Sara was riding the edge of coming undone. Just when he thought he was going to lose his mind from how good everything felt, Scylla finished him off with one deep swallow, surrounding him and teasing every part of his male bits like a pro. Saracyn's eyes squeezed shut as fireworks exploded in his head, his whole body shaking as he hit his peak and came undone, emptying himself at her demand. What had begun as something he had vehemently denied wanting had turned into something so indescribably good that the Mendacium prince couldn't help but lose himself in.

Saracyn's quivering lasted for several long moments until the giant brute was spent, his twitching body going limp in the snow while Scylla cleaned him up and repositioned his legs to protect his most precious parts from the cold. At least she had the kindness in her heart to give him decent aftercare when she was done having her way with him. Listening to Scylla gasp for breath while he was still panting from her ministrations to him made the brute's fur bristle with a feral lust, knowing that she had practically been choking herself on him arousing him in strange ways. Saracyn felt the slide of Scylla's svelte body move up along his until she reemerged in his vision, smiling at him with this pleased gleam in her eyes that both irritated and enticed him. Those purred words just further stoked that heat in his core, and though Sara could not move any parts of his body yet, his throat had relaxed enough to allow him to speak and make sounds normally once again.

"Scylla..." Saracyn spoke her name in low, husky tones that vibrated with a bit of a growl on them. Bright blue eyes followed her movements as she lifted his leg to snuggle in against his chest, feeling her silken fur mingling with his own and the warmth of her form pressed up to his body. With her this close to him, his sense of smell was once more flooded with her heat scent, the pheromone-laden perfume making that hunger well up in his belly and a singular animalistic drive rouse in his brain. He had spent so much of his life hating on Scylla and Albion, but after the surprise paralyzing and blowjob, only one thing was burning on the brute's mind right now. "I'm going to fuck your brains out when I can move again." It was spoken like a promise, or perhaps a threat, whichever turned Scylla on more. She had made a mockery of Saracyn, felling the giant wolf with no effort and taking advantage of his incapacitated state. When he could, he was going to regain his masculinity and pride by having his way with the petite Klein princess.

"Saracyn" & "Scylla"