Erotic short. A young man is knotted by two wolfmen at a night-time festival.
1.2k, rated E, trans man getting double-knotted by two huge-dicked cis wolfmen! Public sex, double-knotting vaginally and anally, come inflation, overstimulation.
The light from the full moon is so bright that they don’t really need the lit torches that line the forest path, and where it kisses Simeon’s bare skin, creamy and almost liquid in its thickness, its weight, he almost forgets that moonlight is what it is — he knows it’s the middle of the night, but it feels like the light should be warm.
The men from the woods are both very tall, taller than Simeon, taller than almost anybody, and their hairy chests are thickly padded and full of brawn — they wear flowers and thorns in crowns around their heads, and their eyes are each a darkened gold, their teeth sharp. They don’t have fully wolfish heads, but their ears are hairy and sharply tipped, and there are thick whiskers on their faces, sprouting from their brows, too, their ears.
They both grin as they lay eyes on Simeon, his arms tied behind his back, forearm to forearm, his body as naked as theirs are — he’s not so hairy, of course, and oil has been rubbed over his skin so that he glistens in the moonlight, and under the flickering firelight from the torches, too.
People are chanting, singing, all their voices layering over one another and blurring into so much harmonious noise, pleasant and full and all-encompassing.
The first of them grips him by the hair and tilts back his head, and he whimpers but doesn’t struggle as teeth graze down his neck. They don’t dig in, they just slide over the surface of his skin and make him shudder even as the other one reaches directly for his cunt, two fingers sliding over the bud of his cock and making him gasp out loud.
He’s already wet — he was wet even before the attendants had started rubbing oil into his skin, their palms warm and strong as they’d slid over his skin, pressing into and massaging his muscles. He’s breathless and wanting, the whole of his body feeling oversensitised and eager, and he craves it, is desperate for it, the press inside him of one thick finger.
He has claws, Simeon knows they both have claws, and so he doesn’t move, stays completely still as he presses into him, rubs around his walls. He tries not to clench, just whimpers out, “Please.”
“Please, he says,” rumbles the one with his hand in Simeon’s hair, his head tilted back, and then Simeon is being pulled forward, tugged up onto the stone dais that serves as altar.
He feels heady and high, his blood pumping heavy and thick in his veins, his head feeling thick — he’s dizzy and just a little out of it, and his arousal isn’t badly affected by it, isn’t ruined by it. It’s intensified to the nth degree, so sublimely overwhelming he feels as if he’s submerged in water, and he moans out loud as the first of the wolfmen takes him by the hips, tugs Simeon into his lap, and lets him slide down the length of his cock.
It’s tapered, sinks into him inch by inexorable inch with no resistance whatsoever, even as it gets tighter toward its base, and then it’s buried in him all the way and he can feel the folds of his sheath against his cock, the lips of his cunt, and already he can feel it, feel the slight bulge at the base of it, and fuck, but it thrills him — and terrifies him, at the same time.
Maybe that’s what the thrill is, the terror.
He all but wails against the other man’s neck as he falls forward against his chest, his legs spreading wider so that the other man can slide his fingers against his arse — he’s already open, has been perfunctorily prepped, but it seems the wolfman wasn’t prepared for that, because he laughs, and then suddenly leans forward.
He’s lifted up by his hips until the other cock is only just nudged into him by the tip, and when he’s lowered it’s to be doubly impaled: a howl breaks out of his throat, sharp and throaty and utterly desperate, and he gets no warning, no prior assurances, nothing but sudden movement up and into him. The two of them drag him down onto their cocks, rock him between them, and his moans join the noise of all the chanting festival-goers, the priests, the witnesses, the audience gathered with their torches and their voices raised in song.
He wails when both cocks start to thicken enough that they pull at him, but that’s nothing yet, nothing compared to where the knots really start to get thick enough that they can no longer pull out of him, so that they’re thick, heavy bulbs that fill his arse and fill his cunt, so that they rub against one another through the thin wall that separates one from the other.
He’s sobbing, he realises, tears on his cheeks at the sheer overwhelming, throbbing ecstasy of it, come washing inside him, both knots bigger than fists and making him see fucking stars. His cock is jumping, rubbing against the thick hair on the wolfman’s belly, and he’s being kissed and it makes his head spin, his lips bitten, his holes so full with so much pumping into him he feels as if he’s going to fucking burst, and maybe he will, because his belly is rounded and heavy and he can feel his skin fucking stretching, can imagine he hears it all sloshing in him like water in a skin.
His swollen belly is shoved up against the wolfman’s, weighing down on his cock, and when both wolfmen shove together, one nipping at the back of his neck and the other at the base of his throat, it squeezes him, puts pressure on him where he’s fucked full and round and fat with come, and he feels the slightest bit of it trickle out of him at a change in angle.
It’s instinct, maybe, that makes him whine and shove his thighs closer together, tighten them around the man he’s impaled on, because he’s not supposed to spill a drop, he’s meant to be just like this, tied by both of them, filled up until it’s all he is.
Maybe it is all he is because he’s coming, his cunt throbbing, his arse tightening so that it all feels so much bigger buried in him, and he gasps, hiccoughs, digs his nails into one of their shoulders at a particularly vicious thrust and goes through the shuddering heart of him.
He doesn’t want this to be just for tonight — he wants it to be forever, this fucking horrible ecstasy, their clawed hands on his shoulders, patting him where his belly is tight as a drumskin and full, and he can feel their come packed in him, imagines that he’s full with it all the way up, that he’s more come than man.
Simeon is coming again, choking on air between them, and there’s no escape —
And why would he want there to be?
He wants this to go on forever.
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