Dark Royal: Feral Instincts

 Tags: M/F/F, doublepenis, dragon, elf, amputee, rough

Silence takes over the baths at the temple of love. The High Priestess stands at the edge of one of the many pools, stunned into silence at the beast looming over the amputated elf woman, Galenna. She clutches at her chest, seeing the pure primal rage that looks at Galenna now. She remembers that rage, as it had been directed at her once before.

During one of their healing sessions, Her body and Draykan’s coiled together. they petted and played at each other’s forms, exploring and healing, for the dragon had only ever been touched in hate and perversity, not with the guiding hand of a true lover.

And as she explored, her fingers move over to the dragon’s horns, seeking to caress those symbols of his virility. But as soon as she did, his body tensed up. His eyes became slitted and angered, his pleasant visage the composure of a monster, and he ravaged her, over and over again, until he passed out, leaving her sore for days to come.

And now, Galenna, the poor elf woman in need of healing, has found that trigger that drives him wild, and is experiencing the full brunt of his wrath.

His strong arms pull her legs upward, not caring that they are in a pool, that she has no solid ground to lay upon, that water splashes up over her face. He squeezes her prosthetic limbs, the material cracking under the strength of his hold. Twin cocks, hard as diamond, line up perfectly to hit both of her holes, and he thrusts forward with little time for her to prepare. Her body bulges with the thick twin rods prodding up into her, penetrating deep, striking at her recesses. A beast like him has no need to worry about assaulting her womb over and over again, all it cares about is its own desire to lay its seed into this, and every, female.

Galenna sputters and coughs from each push, her false arms detaching and moving underneath of her, pushing her up, laying her shoulders on the edge of the pool. He doesn’t care and just continues forcing himself upon her, her body rubbing roughly against the tile next to the tub.

The High Priestess freezes when she sees the expression, hears the sounds, and knows the intentions of the elf. Galenna’s cries that echo the bath hall are not those of a frail waif being violated by an inhumane assault, but of a wild beast, screaming in heat, getting exactly what it wanted.

Tymara knows what she now must do, and the High Priestess disrobes and steps into the pool with a serene urgency. Despite her calm entrance, Galenna glances over to her with manic eyes, and a furious grimace that chills her spine. “Stay away, yo-you whore!” she screams, her hands moving down along her own body. “This is what I want! This is my Drakey, this is love!”

“You don’t know what love is,” Tymara says, lifting her hands up to the sky and speaking in the tongue of the spirits of love. A warmth surrounds her, letting her body glisten. Slight changes come over to her at the request she makes. Her nipples perk up, her pores glisten, and wafting up from her is that sweet musk of a creature in need of satisfaction.

Draykan slows down his punishing rutting to close his eyes and sniff the air. His gaze then turns to Tymara, who stands knee deep in the water, her hands out to her side, open for the beast to take her. He slides his cocks out of the broken elf’s holes, dropping her into the water with a splash as he sloshes through the pool over towards the High Priestess.

Sputtering, Galenna pulls herself up, her face a mask of vitriol towards the High Priestess. She stumbles onto her feet, standing hunched over, and shouts. “You bitch!” With that, she holds her arms out and they fly free from her body, zipping past Draykan. The dragon blinks, letting out a confused grunt as the hands grab the High Priestess by the shoulders and throw her back against the edge.

“You ungrateful girl!” Tymara responds, her eyes glowing with divine energy. “I’m trying to save you!”

The dragon growls, stepping closer to her, but the Priestess grabs the arms by the wrists and whispers another powerful spell. This time, she, along with the arms, disappear, reappearing right in front of the injured elf. She looms over her, that motherly form overpowering the thinner woman’s frame. But Galenna is unafraid, and she grabs the High Priestess by the shoulders, seeking to throw her off, to get her away. At the same time, Tymara grabs onto her hips, trying to overpower the other elf.

The two women splash and struggle, their bodies pressed together, their scents of lust and rage wafting up to Draykan’s nostrils, and the feralized dragon stands there, wide-eyed and dumbfounded that his two pieces of fuckmeat were now tumbling in the water together. His first instinct is to stomp on over there and overpower both at once, taking them with a penis each. But there’s another instinct, one that wants to stand there—one that wants to watch this beautiful erotic battle unfold.

Galenna pulls Tymara’s hair and bites her shoulder, while the High Priestess dunks her opponent under the water a couple times.

Draykan huffs and snorts, his hands twitching, ready to spring in, but that other side of him tells him to wait, to see what happens. His breath calms down as he watches the exchange, his eyes relaxing, his primal urges changing focus, until he can stand there and enjoy the show with an unclouded perception.

Tymara stands tall as Galenna clings to her back, her hands now wrapped around her, squeezing the High Priestess’s breasts. Galenna snarls, saying “is this what you want, queen slut? You want me to lez out on you and let Dray cheat on me at the same time!?”

The priestess’s hands move up and lace through the other elf’s hair. She closes her eyes, and lets out soft gasps as the troubled soul continues to grope and assault her. “I want you to be healed, to be whole in soul and mind.”

“I’m not in need of help, you dumb bitch!” Galenna says, pinching Tymara’s nipples. The priestess pushes her chest out. “See!? Look at that. I’m torturing you, and you want me to give you more?”

Tymara spins around, letting the fingers tug at her, but she doesn’t mind, as, when she breaks free, she clasps Galenna’s cheeks, her thumbs rolling over blushing flesh, and she presses her lips to hers.

Galenna growls, pressing her body up against the priestess’s. She holds her false hand upon the older woman’s back, leaning in, trying to overcome her in this battle of wills and bodies. When Tymara holds onto her, it is the touch of a gentle lover. When Galenna holds to her, it is the grasp of an animal in heat, digging into her soft flesh, taking hold, and not letting go.

The priestess stumbles, falling now, with a splash, into the narrow shore of the pool so that the water only goes up to her ears as she lays. She wraps her legs around the hurting elf, tears of sympathy on her eyes as she kisses her once more, tongues playing together as bodies entwine.

But all Draykan sees as he stands there, dumbfounded, are their lower bodies grinding together. Two perfect mounds locking in their own battle, in their own kiss, ready specifically for him. He snorts, sloshing through the water once more before he looms over the two of them.

Tymara sees him first, her eyes widening, but her head nodding.

Galenna stops and looks over her shoulder, a smile forming over her mouth, showing off sharp teeth. She raises her own hips and detaches her arms, fingers floating down along both of their bodies, but hooking at her own mound, pulling it apart, showing the waiting moist hole to him. “Come on, my monster! Do it!”

Draykan roars and falls upon them both, his chest on Galenna’s back as her chest smashes up against Tymara’s. The amputated elf cackles and initiates the next kiss, invading and conquering the High Priestess’s mouth as she feels one of Draykan’s impressive rods fill up inside of her.

Her arms fly back up, gripping onto Draykan’s horns. This causes the dragon to push into overdrive, his arms wrapping around both of the women as he pounds relentlessly into both of them.

Their bodies are so jostled by his force, that they rub up against each other, continuing their erotic dance with intensity turned up one hundredfold.

“L… let go of him!” Tymara says. “You don’t know what you’re dealing w… with!”

Galenna just laughs and gives the motherly elf bites over her neck as a response. Tymara tries to rub her arms over Draykan, but he won’t relent.

“Oooh!” Galenna cries, pulling her head back, her eyes fluttering. “I… I feel it. His cocks, inside us, rubbing together against us!. Can you feel it!?

The priestess squeezes her eyes shut, concentrating on her healing magic. Perhaps, if she can get him to finally come, he will be calmed?

Draykan moves his hands over their bodies, seeking something to hold onto. He settles onto Galenna’s hair, pulling her back more as he shoves himself even deeper, the tips kissing at the deepest core for both of the women. “Aah, ffuuuuck! Draaaykyyyy. You’re gonna… I’m gonna have your babies!”

With that, Draykan hilts into both of the women. That final barrier to their wombs yields, sweallowing the heads of his cocks. Encircled by the entrances and by the cervix, each cock explodes forth with all of his might.

Galenna rolls her tongue out, screaming so hard, her voice becomes sore. Her mind is so fractured by the amazing sensations around her, that her hands let go of his horns and her arms and legs both drop into the water with a splash.

Tymara, meanwhile, focuses in on the magic, drawing in all of his seed, as if her womanhood has become a receptacle for more than just the physical. The essence that he gives her becomes laced with the feral fury that drives him to his anger and lust, and soon, he moans, falling to the side, and collapsing in the water.

Tymara reaches down, grunting as she pulls the thick thing out from her. It takes a while, and it comes out with a loud pop.

Panting, Tymara scoots up, letting Galenna’s unconscious body tumble off of her. The High Priestess sits, rubbing at her stomach, a soft, sad smile upon her face. “I’m sorry… your life will be fraught with issues, little one.

Draykan awakes in his bed, sitting up and rubbing his head. He’s tired, but not exactly sure why. “Galenna?” He stumbles to his feet and out of the door, into the halls beyond his cell. One of the serving lads passes by him and he grabs the young man by the shoulders. “Where is Galenna?” he asks.

Frowning, the lad says. “She’s in the healing chambers, sir, but High Priestess Tymara has said-”

He storms out of the hall and into the healing chambers. There, he finds Galenna, her arms and legs off to the side, laying in a bed and sleeping soundly. He sighs, slumping at a seat by her.

“You didn’t harm her, lover,” Tymara says, walking up behind him. She pats his back, rubbing his scaled body with a comforting palm. “Her mind is far worse than your own.”

“I… I almost tore her apart…”

“That is something to be concerned about yes,” Tymara says. “But the thing I’m concerned most is that in your frenzied state, you’ve bonded to her in ways that the spirits of love do not take lightly.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, looking up to her, but his eyes move down and sees that she caresses her stomach. His jaw drops and the priestess nods. “Yes, your seed has taken root. You are entwined to both of us through your progeny.”