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He plays his cards right. To this day, he can’t tell what he did that tipped them off to his antics, but soon his hand was yanked out of the other’s pocket. The other kisses their teeth in mock disappointment. “Now what was this doing in there?”
Shit.
The other’s grin no longer was charming, now a cruel thing with an edge to it. “Idle hands really are The Devil’s playground, aren’t they? You’re in luck, I think I have just the cure…” Their hand charges, a shimmering conjuration of magic around his wrist. Heat builds and Julian pales when he realizes his mistake of pickpocketing from a witch of all people. Recognizing the immediate threat of bodily harm, he raises his other hand and punches, hard enough to be a shock into the witch’s face. A sharp CRACK! rings out, and the witch yelps, hand dropping his captive wrist to hold their face.
“Heh, you shouldn’t underestimate people just because they don’t have magic. I know all the tricks in the book!” he taunts, grinning with the adrenaline of fear and a successful hit.
A low, rumbling sound emanates from the witch, causing Julian to still. An instinct rose in his throat, stilling his triumphant words where they sat in a hard-to-swallow lump. The witch stepped forward into the light of the Rowdy Raven’s window, prompting him to step back himself and out of it. What he’d previously thought to be the effect of the night’s shadows on their hands proved untrue as the dark stayed stuck to their clawed fingers. He could have sworn they weren’t so sharp a moment ago when they held his wrist in an iron grip, or so dark and… furry?
The witch dragged their hands down their face and their eyes glared out in the dim lighting like a predator’s, their face dark. Their hands drew down further revealing a snarling snout, red falling from a bleeding nose. Long fangs peeked out from beneath curled lips and red gums, drool dripping from a long, animal tongue that licks up over the bleeding nose to lap clean the blood.
“You made my nose bleed,” the witch growls, an animal snarl ripping from their throat a moment after. They slunk over, stepping forward again and out of the dim lighting so only their eyes and outline remained, beastial and hungry.
Son of a bitch , he cursed himself in his head, taking another step back.
“You should fly away now if you think you can, little raven”.
Julian turns and runs.
He can hear the rapid, hunting steps of footfalls behind him. He twists and turns down dark alleys, but as soon as he thinks he’s got a lead, the shine of an eye, a gleam of a tooth or tongue shines in the side of his vision; a footfall or scrape of claw sounds in his ear just close enough to have him worry. “Come out, little raven! You can’t hide from my nose,” the witchbeast sings in the dark, claws sliding along stone in a rough noise that lights fire in Julian’s stomach. He isn’t thinking quite as he would, driven to a blind panic by the sight of the witch changing forms like that. He’d never seen Asra do anything to the effect! How had they managed it? Was it just the type of magic, and Asra wasn’t that specialized? Or inherited? How did they-
The witchbeast laughs somewhere, closer now, the sound grating with growls. “Oh my, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I can smell your desire, raven”.
What?! Julian looks down at himself, and though he can’t see in the dark, he notices with dread the tightness in his gut isn’t just from the fear, not only from the thrill of a chase; arousal gnaws at him from the hips. Every growl the witch gives, every taunting word and grate of claw against the stone of the city feeds the fire even more. “Naughty little bird! Don’t tell me that you wanted me to chase you all along? Is that why your hand found its way into my pocket?”
God, he wishes he’d never done any of it, even as he wants the predator to pin him to the wall and have their wiley way with him.
His thoughts cut off as he noticed a garden, and slips over the wall with some effort. He ducks and rolls on the fall, preparing to get back up when a low snarl rumbles from behind him and he’s suddenly pinned to the earth, a clawed hand on the back of his head pushing his face into the grass. It yields against his skin and he tastes it, bitter and natural, muddling with copper as his lip splits against the bruising push. It’s then that he realizes his mask has fallen off and away.
“Caught you,” the witch barks triumphantly. He can imagine the wolfish grin behind him, gleaming tongue and eyes, all rolling and wild with the hunt. “Not quite the daring escape artist you think you are, are you, thief?”
Oh god. The hairs on the back of Julian’s neck stand to attention as hot breath pants against the back of his neck and ears where the beast has crawled over him. The witch hangs over him like a guillotine, wide shoulders and strong body pinning him down. They laugh above him, the sound rolling like thunder in their chest. “You know, I don’t think I’ll take your wandering hand off. I think I’m in a giving mood. I think-” the wolfish face bends close to his ear, teeth grazing the shell of it. Julian has to bite back a whimper, muffling it in the soil. “I’ll give you exactly what you want”.
The punishing hand lightens from his head, though knots in his hair a moment. “Stay perfectly still now; I’m not about to let you go just yet. Not when you’ve put me in such a… generous mood. Understand, thief?”
“Yes,” he whispers, voice cracking dryly in the slight chill of the night air, though it felt hot against his skin now.
“Very good,” they murmur, petting his hair and running claws along his scalp in an encouraging manner. Julian shivers at the praise, pressing his face further into the dirt to hide it from the witch’s beastly sight. “Such a good pet. You can be quite sweet with the proper motivation, can’t you?”
“Yes. Please…” he pleads again, raising his hips.
“Ah, so eager,” the witch mocks, clawed fingers leaving his hair to rove down his body. They tease through the thick fabric of his coat, sharp points making dull, light sensations across his back and ribs as they track his musculature. “I shouldn’t be surprised with how greedy I’ve seen you be”. The claws sneak back up and finger at his coat. “You will take this off for me”.
Julian nods as he’s allowed up, back to the beast. They pant into his neck and he can’t wrench the coat from himself fast enough, gloves and jacket quickly following and soon he’s down to his shirt. The wolf’s breaths deepen behind him and Julian can barely keep himself still.
“You’re trembling,” they say aloud, a clawed hand brushing from his shoulder where it pauses to squeeze down his arm and to hold his wrist once again like it had earlier in the night. Indeed, his hands were shaking as he held the coat. He hears the shift of movement behind him and feels the warmth of a body press against his back, an arm coming around his waist to tug him close. He hums, leaning into it, and bares his throat.
It earns him a laugh that stokes the fire in his gut, a tongue licking out against his neck, long and wet. It’s a foreign feeling, strange, and yet, it delights. He can’t contain a squirm, shifting in the witch’s arm. He feels their hand dig its claws into his wrist, gently pricking him.
“So docile when you’re like this. Where did that haughty little thing go that thought he knew all my tricks?” they sneer, pressing him back down, this time atop his coat.
Julian settles. “He’s hoping he’d be getting a prize if he was polite”.
The witchbeast hums in amusement behind him, hands roving up and down his body. They follow his waist to his chest, gliding over the billowy cotton of his shirt before sneaking underneath and pressing claws into pale skin. His breath hitches at the first dangerous point, tracing shapes in his skin and leaving little thin, pink lines. “He can certainly dream, can’t he?” The hands push the cotton up and over Julian’s head, tossing it away.
Julian flinches and startles a laugh out of his pressed lungs when a cold, animal nose presses between his shoulder blades. It gives slight, quick sniffs of him, trailing up to his shoulders and back down before praising him with a small, warm lick of a velvet tongue.
The witch slowly works their way down his body, sniffing and taking careful note of his body properly. They press furred hands down and graze their claws along in tow. Finally reaching his breeches, they tug, renting them from their place at his hips and baring his backside to the night. “Such soft skin…” the witchbeast sighs, testing the plush of his ass with a claw like it was a rip fruit. Julian whines when he feels his skin give way and a drop of blood pool for the claw. He feels them shuffle and lean down, tongue giving a gentle lap at the red.
Julian tries to relax himself into it, but can’t help his shifting, moving his weight from one knee to the other, stretching his arms out in front of him like a cat. A pair of clawed hands each grasp an ass cheek, thumbs spreading him to bare his hole and Julian freezes, suddenly feeling all too vulnerable. “Wait-”
The witchbeast snarls loudly behind him, grip turning punishing on his hips. Claws dig in indiscriminately and he yelps in response, clutching his coat for comfort as tears dew his lashes. His eyes are screwed shut, afraid to look up and see punishment from on high come down from this beastly god. He feels teeth against his ass, far too close to his hole for comfort and Julian whimpers weakly, tugging his hips in futility to try and pull them from the cruel hands of his master. “No, no, no-” he chants in a quiet prayer, but soon recognizes with terror that it is in vain.
“Hold still, or it will be so much worse,” the witchbeast swears, the words brushing on his skin like their teeth. It’s first just a press that repositions a few times, sliding against skin in a simple press. Then, all at once, the teeth clamp down, biting through skin and into the meat of his ass in white hot pain.
Julian gasps aloud, moaning and squirming against the brutal hold on his hips even as his cock hardens even more. Every nerve is alight and it’s the feeling of being held down, the teeth that dig into him that has him rocking and struggling to stay afloat.
The maw opens, long, animal tongue licking out in greedy fervor of his blood, sweeping so close to his hole that he thinks he sobs. Teeth tease at tender skin and sharp nips have him shaking and jolting away with a cry, even as the witchbeast laughs. He finds himself turning so his one eye can look behind him, staring past the blur of tears to the beastial face of his captor.
Their eyes shined, pupils wide and focused and brilliant with a thousand colors that had no names yet for them. They were no sun or moon or star, but flew with the colors of the sky between the wolf and the dog. "Thoust yields beneath my teeth like a sun ripened peach, thief. Perhaps you do have a use after all: a flavorful little morsel".
"Oh fuck," Julian whimpers, shaking as blood leaks from the flesh of his ass, a clawed, fingered paw reaching around to cup his hardened cock.
The beastly witch laughs roughly, sound smokey and wild and blood. "And hard as a diamond in an ice storm. Do you always warm up with such eagerness when you are about to die?"
“Oh fuck,” Julian repeats, hips jolting involuntarily with pleasure at the rough treatment. Pleasure leaks into the pain like watercolor, blending smoothly. He shivers against the hand, whining when it strokes him just so. He can feel hot breath against his ass and he stills his hips, eager for another bite. He wants more, wants as many as he can get, until his ass his bruised purple and blue, red and scabbed with bites.
They do not bite him again, though the new action is no less torturous. Instead, teeth nip at his rim, prompting sharp, exciting pain as he gasps and whines. “Such excitement. You’re certainly a glutton for pain, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he breathes, rocking back into the snout of the witch beast, spreading his thighs further for them. “Yes, yes, please, bite me, I want it-” he moans brokenly. A second bite has another loud moan leaving his throat, rocking back into the pain and only notices a small trace of wetness on the witch’s fingers when he is released, realizing he’s let loose a small string of pre. The witch laughs, lapping at the blood with a grin he can feel on his flesh.
Then the witch licks up at his hole and the world escapes him. His head hangs low as he moans brokenly as the witch kneads his wounded ass, claws picking at bleeding bites with a bruising sort of affection. Julian can only gasp as the witchbeast’s tongue licks into him, the slick velvet pull of it so strange to him and yet so deliciously good . It pressed so deeply into him in steady, slow laves that has him shaking.
Clawed hands slide down, caressing him like a pet. They pry his ass cheeks apart for a fast, deep lick that leaves him trembling for air like he’s a virgin again before they travel lower, pressing sharp, clawed thumbs into the inside of his thighs. He cants his hips up, pressing into the muzzle with cries of want.
The witchbeast pulls away and he hears them lick their lips between his panting breaths. “Nothing can incite my appetite like a meal that begs to be eaten,” they growl, pulling away.
“No, no, don’t stop-” he begs, turning back to give a pleading glace, only to pause and watch as their own robes fall away to reveal their own flesh and bare it to the night. The wolfish features don’t go far, the dark fur stopping at their chest from the head, and only halfway up the arms, though it seems to reach further up their legs, revealing furred haunches and a- oh god…
“This is going to be so delightful, won’t it? I’ve never done it like this before… It’ll be quite fun. You know, I think I recognize you…” the witchbeast says with an idle, amused tone as Julian freezes. “You’re Doctor Devorak, aren’t you? Well, you’ll be certainly helping with this little experiment, won’t you? So nice to know that I have someone so scientific to help with my… research”. A clawed hand reaches out for his ass cheek and has him relaxing into it again, until the hand raises and falls with a harsh slap against the bite wounds, sharp pain racing through his veins. The dull ache is raw and upsetting and he has to bite his split lip, worrying it open to keep from crying out at the ache. When they do it again, splitting open another bite he can’t help his whimper from escaping.
The witchbeast hums, pleased. “So good, aren’t you? Very well behaved”.
Julian cannot hide his shiver, racing down his back and through him to his hard, leaking cock. “None of that, now. You’ll come before my main course”.
Julian doesn’t have to ask what it is, and he’s not surprised to feel the witch pull him backwards so they are furred hip to bloody hip. The witchbeast sighs, rocking against him slightly. It’s just a gentle rut, the witch’s slick cock pressing against the inside of Julian’s thigh bringing him sparks of warmth and hunger. “Please… please, I want it…”
“Such a good little thing,” the witch purrs, pulling a hand off his bloody hip to help their cock find his entrance. The tip teases, catching just a bit on the rim before sliding purposefully off. Julian sobs aloud, pressing his hips back against the cock, trying to get it to catch. The witch kisses their teeth at him, rubbing their thumb against his wounded ass, hurting as much as soothing. “Come now, be patient. I’m trying to enjoy myself,” they scold, even as they nudge their cock just so, so that the tip presses inside of Julian. It stays like that a moment, then they pull out once more.
Julian wants to cry, to scream, but then the witchbeast presses down, down, down with their whole weight behind it on his back until his chest is pressed to the dirt and his hips are arched just so. A growl sounds off in his ear; its the only warning he gets before the witch’s cock slams into him without warning. He yelps loudly, a wounded, dying noise he’d be embarrassed about if he weren’t so achingly full. The witch’s arms curl around him in a possessive hold, pulling him down onto their cock with more force. With each snap of their hips, Julian finds himself losing more and more of his sense to it. His mind is a tangled knot of white noise, lost in pleasure. Each time he is pulled forcefully back onto the witch’s cock is terrible and lovely, the harsh pace slapping the wounds of the bites. They ache each time they are hit, and the wounding tempo of their hips does nothing to soothe them. Julian doesn’t want it anyhow; it’s a gorgeous, horrid feeling that leaves him wanting more. More pain, more pleasure, he wants anything this wretched creature will give him.
The hot, slick drag of cock in his under-prepared hole is nothing short of religious. He moans brokenly into the night, feeling like an animal under the onslaught of the beastly witch’s thrusts. They growl into his ear, slipping between snarling condescending humiliation that has him gasping, and purring sweet praise to make him weep. He feels so easy to them, as if they pulled him apart like he was nothing.
A calloused hand around his cock cracks the steady beat of the fuck, teasing him out of his mindset and back to consciousness. “-I can’t believe you just let me take you right here where anyone could see us-” he catches, moaning brokenly as his head hangs low, clawing at his coat for some semblance of grounding under the new stimulation. His hips shake, pressing back into each thrust, pleasure sparking and knotting in with the pain. “-Shit, shit, I’m going to- Fuck, here it comes, thief, here’s your real prize-” the witch snarls, suddenly turning him over to his side and slinging his leg over their shoulder.
Looming over him, the moon peeks through the trees and across the monstrous wolf face of the witch. They grin down at him, all wild-sky eyes and sharp teeth. Blood is caked on their nose and red-pink glints on his teeth; remnants of himself left. Impulsively, he reaches a hand up and knots it in the fur of their neck, fingers digging into the thick mane. It’s dark as night, fingers lost immediately to the night of it. The witchbeast slows slightly in surprise, cruel, cocky grin faltering.
“You’re beautiful,” he breathes, hardly aware he’s even said it.
The witch’s fanged grin finally drops, teeth sheathed away like a hundred swords in a surrendering party. Their head cocks, thrusts slowing to a steady grind, just a simple swivel of hips that has Julian gasping. He squirms, the subtle sense of some remaining instinct in his overactive hindbrain screaming that something is about to happen. “You are quite messed up, if I may say so, thief” .
Julian moans. “You may only say so, so long as you don’t stop”.
The wolfish grin returns full force, leaning down and into his face. “Trust me: I will. You have no say in the matter”. The witch’s hips cant harshly and Julian whines, struggling against the thrust with a gasp, cock catching on his rim strangely.
“What-?” he manages to ask, struggling under the weight of the wolf and the pleasure they bring him.
The wolfish witch shushes him with mocking sweetness and fucks out of him, cock catching harder against him this time and it hits like a punch. He hiccups, trembling with each merciless thrust. The new- angle? No, it’s a swelling- It presses into a familiar sweet spot inside him, lighting his nerves raw and oversensitive when it suddenly clicks. The sweat on his back turns cold and he opens his good eye with tender fear.
The witchbeast lets out a grating laugh, gaze lingering on his face with unveiled appreciation for the terror it sees. “Finally figured it out, did you? No, no, don’t tighten up, that will just make it more painful,” they deride, laughter plain in the tone. Shame eats Julian from the inside even as heat grows. “Although it shall hardly be a punishment for you anyhow, will it? You like this so much, taking to it so naturally… Somehow I feel like the real trouble you’ll cause is getting you off my cock after the knot’s gone down” .
“No, no, no, please don’t-” Julian begs. Even as fear begins to break through the curtain of pleasure, he finds a disturbingly large part of him follows the witch’s line of thought. He doesn’t want to stop; he wants to keep the witch’s cock in him. He wants to be tied to them naturally, cruelly, sweetly.
“I think I will, actually,” the wolf says cheerfully, huffing with the effort of short, hard thrusts, fucking the swelling knot in and out of his tender hole. Pain joins the fear in breaking the rose-colored pleasure that veils his vision and now cries at the burn of pain. “Shh… such a soft little thing… so sweet and tender… I wonder how wide I can make you…” The witch huffs, pulling his leg higher and presses down on him, bending it up so his knee presses into his shoulder with a gasp. “Yes, that’s it. Feels so good doesn’t it?” The witch fucks harder, straining under the effort to keep fucking the enlargening knot into him. “It feels natural; like it’s just what you were meant for”.
Julian struggles under the weight, eyes clenched tight and tears leaking shamefully from his eyes. He’s stretched wide and sloppy, wet with the gentle leak of the witch’s precome and saliva. It aches, shame biting at him harsh as the fangs that pierced him. The knot slides home inside him with a grind and he sobs openly, begging and crying to his uncaring partner. A claw teases the slit of his cock as it slowly drags the knot out, stretching his hole beyond what it should be able to. He feels it rest on the widest part before teasingly, slowly, sliding back home inside him to press against his prostate. A slight spurt of precome leaks from his cock across the claw and he cries openly.
“That’s it, just a little more- Come on, you useless piece of trash, tighten up, will you? I know I haven’t stretched you out that much,” the witch growls, ears flattening to their head, clawed hand raising and coming down again in a harsh slap against his wounded ass, drawing a yelp and instinctual flex of muscle, tightening around the knot and accidentally drawing it back in, deeper. The wolfish witch moans in surprise then chuckles breathlessly, fucking faster and rewarding him with another, sharper hit. “That’s it, good little raven. Being so good for me right now. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll knot your mouth next time. Won’t that be fun?”
Dizzily, Julian imagines it: his jaw flexed so wide around the knot he can’t even clench his jaw. He can’t suck, just swallow down whatever he’s given, the knot tied behind his teeth. The thought of the beastly witch using his mouth as thoroughly as they are using his ass… he can’t help the moaning cry that makes its way out of his throat, cracking in pained pleasure. The swelling progresses until the difficulty becomes too much for the witchbeast to bear and it becomes just a quick, short series of grinds.
The witch nearly howls, throwing their whole body forward and into Julian as the knot finally pops. A steady stream of warmth pools in Julians gut and he groans under the pressure, even as it doesn’t slow, coming in pulsing waves. Come pools in his gut, caught inside by the thickened knot and Julian screams at each harsh slap against his ass. “Yes, yes, yes-!” the witch chants, bending him in half like he intends to break him, the other hand clutching his waist so hard he knows he’ll bruise. It will be the least of his injuries.
The witchbeast leans close to his face, mesmerizing eyes glaring light deep into his own and blinding him with their luminescence. “Come on now, Doctor Devorak,” the witch growls, breath hot and damp on his lips. Their hand finds his cock again, pulling dryly on it and he yelps, pulling against the knot painfully. “Surely you can come from this, can’t you?”
Julian shakes his head uselessly in rebellion, shaking under the weight of the knot. The witch huffs in amusement, come slowing to a trickle inside him. He feels hot, heavy from the swell inside him. It’s a terribly good feeling, possibly the best Julian’s ever had and a disturbingly large part of him wants nothing but this for the rest of his natural life. “Here, how about I stretch you out some more. Won’t that help?” Julian frantically shakes his head more, looking up at the wolf with a wide, fearful look, lashes dewed with tears that had streaked down his cheeks. He hiccups, trying and failing to form words and rebuttals and only managing broken moans. Words escape him, strings of thought now whittled down to concepts and colors. “No? Come on, you love your slutty hole stretched on my knot. Let us see how far I can pull it out”.
Julian cries, throwing his head back as the first bit of knot makes its way out of his tightened ass, and he feels a small drip of come leak out with it. The wolf hums above him, head tipped back in ecstasy. The drag of the knot is slow, full of pleading from him and words of lazy encouragement from the witch. His ass stretches wide, wider than he’s ever been around the knot and it is a glorious pain that only doubles his pleasure when the hand on his cock tightens, using his precome to lubricate.
“Do you know why I turned you over rather than fucking you into the dirt like a real wolf, Doctor?” the witch says, almost idle if it wasn’t for the gruff rasp of pleasure in his tone as he drags his knot outward. Julian can only shake his head, both in denial of the events unfolding and in answer to the question. “I wanted to see your face when you realized what was happening; what I was about to do to you. You think you’re so frightening, don’t you Doctor Devorak?” the witch coos to him, mocking him even as they backslide back into him. He nearly sobs at the relief, but then they start to draw back out once again. “But you see, the thing about being big and bad is that there’s always someone bigger and badder, isn’t there?” His cock is slick and hot and hard, and if he weren’t so exhausted he’d be struggling to stay still. Now he can only manage the barest of twitches, crying out against the slow, deliberate pull of knot. The witch’s words are lost on him, sent spiralling into his subconscious where they’ll come up the next day no doubt.
“There we go,” the witch grunts at last as he feels them pull out to the widest part of the knot, and god, it’s divine. He can’t even properly clench, even as the witch slaps his ass cheek again, only weakly flutters around it. The strain is unbearable and he whines loudly, looking up at the witch with blind fear. “Heh heh… if I were any bigger, I think I would have torn you in half, thief. Now, let us finish you, hm?” The hand quickens on his cock as they slide slowly in, giving a quick reprieve before sliding back to the widest part of the knot. Soon, the pain starts to fade, leaving naught but a steady ache and a burning pleasure that grows and tightens in his gut. His stomach already so tight with the slight bulge of the witch’s come grows somehow tighter as he nears completion.
With one final, patient slap that breaks open the bite wound on his ass, Julian’s vision snaps into white pleasure. He could have screamed, but he didn’t hear it. Blind and deaf to everything around him, he’s only dimly aware of the witchbeast grunting in surprise as they thrust back inside him, fucking him on the knot with growing eagerness. His come splatters up his stomach and notes with some horror that his gut is growing even tighter, not from his orgasm, but a second from the witch who is filling him past his threshold with their come.
“Stah- St- Stop! I’m going to- I can’t hold i- it!” he begs uselessly, words slurred with pleasure and fear.
“I can’t,” the witch grunts irritably, grinding deeply into him, knot sealing the growing amount of come inside his stretched insides. “Deal with it. You wanted to take something from me? You wanted a prize? Well, this is what you earned. Take it”. Julian cries out, hands dropping from their tight hold on the witch’s furred, muscular biceps to his own stomach, feeling the slight paunch that’s formed on his formerly flat stomach. “Heh, you look so cute, all strung out like this. I think I could go again… I wonder how much more I can fill you…?”
Julian’s already weak protests are cut off by a sudden thrust and he realizes with a feeble sort of shame that there isn’t any resistance now when the witch pulls the knot out and thrusts right back in. He’s stretched past his limit, and now being used even easier, knot being fucked in and out of him as easily as if he were a toy made for it.
“I think I’ll keep you around, Doctor. The palace might not want you, but I think I’ve got a use for you,” is the last thing he hears before he falls into unconciousness.