Wail of the Wild: A Viera's Tale

The campfire’s dying embers cast a faint ruddy glow across their Rak’tika Greatwood camp, the air thick with the loamy musk of wet earth and the cloying sweetness of night-blooms unfurling under twin moons. Sielle perched on a gnarled log, her silver hair cascading like molten moonlight over her shoulders, blue eyes glinting with weary defiance. Dain loomed nearby, a hulking slab of muscle and stubble, his sweat-soaked bulk an unshakable storm. All evening, he’d stalked too close—his thick, calloused fingers brushing her thigh with a greasy slap as he tossed her a skewer of sizzling meat, juices dripping to the moss with a mocking plip. His breath, a hot, smoky gust, rasped against her silver-furred ears as he growled low, “Gonna make ya squeal tonight, bunny—bet you’d like that, eh?” She spat back, “Piss off, you lumbering ass—touch me again, and I’ll shove that skewer where the sun don’t shine,” her ears twitching sharp as knives, but her pulse hammered, a damp heat coiling in her core despite her snarl.

He didn’t back off—his tunic clung to his broad chest like a second skin as he knelt to stoke the fire, embers popping like tiny stars, his knuckles grazing her leather skirt with a taunting scrape. “Keep dreamin’, lass—gonna melt that icy glare ‘fore dawn,” he rumbled, his musk—raw and animal—mingling with woodsmoke, seeping into her senses. She swatted his hand with a crisp smack, “Dreamin’? I’d sooner hump a chocobo, you reeking ox,” but his dark eyes flashed hunger, lips curling into a crooked, shit-eating grin that screamed trouble. As the party—Hyur scouts, a Miqo’te healer, a Roegadyn tank—collapsed into their bedrolls, snores rumbling like a distant storm, Sielle sought refuge in her own, yanking the coarse wool tight around her, turning away from the camp’s glow to bury herself in its scratchy embrace.

Then came the crunch—Dain’s heavy boots grinding twigs with a smug snap as he crouched beside her, his shadow swallowing the moonlight. “Oi, bunny,” he rasped, shaking her shoulder, his palm a rough, sweaty brand against her leather-clad arm. She groaned, burrowing deeper into her bedroll, the fabric rustling with a muffled shff as she tried to cocoon herself from his stench. “What now, you relentless bastard? Go hump a tree and leave me be,” she snarled, voice thick with exhaustion.

“Got a problem, lass,” he said, his tone dripping with dark mirth, a predator’s edge slicing the night’s hum. “You’re the only one who can fix this ache—unless ya want me wakin’ the whole damn camp with it.” She peeked out, eyes narrowing at his looming bulk, the reek of leather and sweat rolling off him in waves. “Jerk off in a bush and let me sleep, you filthy cur,” she snapped, rolling tighter into her bedroll, wool scraping her cheek. His chuckle rumbled, a low quake, and her ears pricked at the shff of fabric—his breeches loosening. “Look at me, Sielle—gonna need more’n a bush for this.”

She growled, “Not interested, you swine,” but his hand gripped her shoulder again, yanking her halfway out with a grunt. “C’mon, bunny, just a peek—ya owe me for them looks all night,” he coaxed, voice dropping to a gravelly taunt, spit flecking his lips. “You’re daft—find a puddle to drown it in,” she hissed, but curiosity gnawed, a itch she couldn’t scratch. What’s this idiot up to now? she thought, irritation warring with a flicker of heat. He leaned closer, breath a hot blast against her ear. “Been hard as steel ‘cause of ya—ain’t fair leavin’ me to suffer, ya cold little tease.”

“Fair?” she scoffed, clutching the bedroll, her voice a sharp jab. “Cry me a river, Dain—go nurse your own damn woes.” He pressed on, gruff and smug. “One look, Sielle—see what ya stirred up, ya heartless wench.” She growled, “Suffer then, pig—I’m out,” but her resolve wavered. Gods, he’s a mule—might as well shut him up, she reasoned, turning with a glare that could cut glass. Her breath snagged. His cock jutted free, monstrous and veined, its girth obscene in the moonlight, the swollen head glistening with precum like a taunting dare. Her ears flattened, heat scorching her face, the air thick with his salty, primal stink. “Gods, you’re a foul beast—shove that back in your pants!” she choked, but her voice quavered, thighs clenching despite her fury.

He grinned, shameless, sweat beading on his brow. “Can’t, bunny—been throbbin’ for hours. You’re my cure, like it or not.” She yanked the bedroll up, “Cure yourself, you lout—find a hole in a tree,” but he caught her wrist, iron-hard, and pressed her hand against it with a grunt. The heat seared—his shaft pulsed, thick and unyielding, twitching as he forced her fingers along its length. Gods, it’s a bloody log—what’s this madness? she thought, reeling. No, I shouldn’t—filthy brute! “Let go, you pig,” she snarled, tugging, but her hand lingered, curiosity clawing free. How’s it even… so damn hot? Her fingers twitched, stroking hesitantly. “I ain’t touchin’ this,” she muttered, weaker, her hand moving on its own, tracing the veins. Fuck, why’s it… pulsing like that—I can’t stop!

Her strokes grew firmer, resistance crumbling. “You’re a sweaty ass,” she rasped, voice softening, her mind a tangle of I shouldn’t—he’s a beast—but gods, what’s this pull? “This is daft,” she hissed, but her grip tightened, curiosity overtaking defiance. It’s… alive—gods, I’m feelin’ it. “Fine,” she snapped, breaking, jabbing a finger at his chest, eyes blazing. “But not here—and don’t you dare cum in me, you rutting ox. I mean it—or I’ll skin ya alive.” Her tone was steel, a warning carved in her glare.

He smirked, a triumphant leer splitting his face, spit gleaming on his lip. “Knew you’d bend, bunny—too tempted to resist. Don’t fret—I’ll keep it tight,” he growled, voice a cocky rasp, though a flicker of doubt danced beneath it.

They slipped from camp, her bare feet sinking into the spongy moss, silent as a whisper, while his boots crunched with a smug snap-snap, twigs breaking under his weight. The forest swallowed them—vines drooped like glistening serpents, dripping dew that pattered onto leaves with a rhythmic tap-tap. Bioluminescent fungi pulsed sickly green along gnarled roots, casting eerie shadows that danced across their path. A distant howl split the air, raw and guttural, answered by the rustle of wings as some unseen creature took flight. The wind sighed through the canopy, a low whoooosh carrying the sharp tang of sap and the damp rot of fallen logs. Deeper they went, the wild’s pulse thumping—skitter-skitter of tiny claws on bark, the croak-croak of frogs echoing from hidden pools, a sudden snap as a branch gave way under some prowling beast’s weight, the forest alive with unseen eyes and restless hunger.

In a secluded glade, hemmed by twisted trees and glowing moss, they stopped. Sielle turned, unbuckling her leather armor with deft fingers, the clink of metal soft in the stillness. She peeled it off, the cool air kissing her sweat-damp skin, her silver hair spilling free as she shed her tunic and skirt, revealing pert breasts with taut, dusky nipples and the smooth curve of her hips, her cunt already glistening in the moonlight. I’ll break him, she thought, a smirk tugging her lips. Pin his ass down, ride him ‘til he’s a whimperin’ mess—beggin’ me for mercy. She bent to set her armor against a tree, the bark rough against her palms, imagining his grunts beneath her, her thighs clamping his hips, his massive cock hers to tame. He’ll learn who owns this night.

But Dain pounced faster. As she straightened, his hands—rough and searing—gripped her hips from behind, yanking her naked form against his bare chest, his tunic and breeches already shed, his skin a furnace of sweat and muscle. His cock, freed and rigid, pressed against her ass, its heat a brand. What—now, you sneaky bastard? flashed through her mind, her plans crumbling as his stubble prickled her neck. “No time for your games, lass,” he growled, his voice a raw, hungry edge.

He hoisted her, her feet dangling, the cool air brushing her dripping cunt, her lips parted and swollen with need. I was gonna lead—how’s this ox takin’ over? she thought, startled. His calloused hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her mmph! “Quiet, bunny,” he snarled, spit flecking her ear, “or they’ll hear ya squeal like a stuck pig.” His cock pressed her entrance, scalding and monstrous, its head too thick to fully fit. He lowered her, slow and merciless, parting her slick, pink folds with a wet schlick, her glistening slit stretching wide, juices trailing down her thighs. The stretch burned—his girth forced her open, but only partway, her walls straining as he sank in, the tip hitting her womb with a dull ache, a faint bulge pulsing on her tummy. Gods, it’s a bloody beast—won’t fit! she screamed inwardly, her mind a storm of shock and heat.

She quaked, helpless. I own this—why’s he stealin’ it? He thrust once, hard, the wet slap loud, his cockhead slamming her deepest spot, and her climax hit—her cunt spasmed, soaking her thighs, a muffled nnngh! against his hand, her juices dripping in glossy strands. Already? Fuck, he’s a monster! He chuckled, a low, smug rumble, “Came fast, eh? Weak bunny—thought ya’d last longer,” and shifted gears, relentless now.

For her second climax, he turned brutal—his thrusts came fast and rough, a frenzied thwack-thwack-thwack, his hips slamming her ass, her flesh rippling under the force, the bulge on her tummy flickering with each deep plunge. His cockhead battered her womb, never fully sheathed, the wet schlup-schlup-schlup of her cunt a lewd symphony, her slickness splattering onto the moss. Gods, he’s a rutting beast—slow it down! she thought, her will fraying, her body jolting with each hit. Then he slowed, torturous—long, deliberate thrusts, each a deep schliiick as he dragged out, then plunged back, grinding her womb, the bulge stark now. Too slow—fuck, I’m losin’ it! Her mind cracked, He’s tearin’ me apart—I can’t stop him! Her muffled hmmmph-hnnnngh! grew erratic, her resistance melting into a haze of I need it—gods, I need more! The climax built slow, then crashed—her cunt clenched, a flood soaking them, a sobbing nnnnnnh! as her will shattered. He’s got me—damn him, I’m his!

He paused, lifting her, letting gravity tease her down, his cock sliding with a slow schliiick, stopping short, the head grinding her womb, the bulge pulsing. He’s relentless—drivin’ me to the brink, she thought, her muffled mmph-mmph! frantic. He held her, panting, then lifted again, her slickness dripping—plip-plip—before dropping her, the stretch reigniting. Her third climax tore through—hnnnngh!—her resolve buckling. He’s remoldin’ me—gods, I’m comin’ undone!

Then he paused again, his hands trembling under her hips as he lifted her, sliding her up his thick shaft until only the swollen, throbbing tip of his cock remained inside her, her dripping cunt clenching desperately around it, her swollen folds glistening crimson and slick in the moonlight, a sheen of sweat and arousal coating her inner thighs. She hung there, suspended in the humid air, her breath a shallow, ragged whimper, the forest’s damp heat clinging to her skin like a second layer. Dain’s chest heaved against her back, his sweat-slicked muscles taut, his jaw clenched, a faint twitch in his grip betraying the strain—he was selfishly determined to last, to stretch this torment as long as his iron will could hold, savoring the way her tight, quivering heat gripped him, not ready to surrender to the release building in his core. Not yet—not ‘til she’s mine completely, he seemed to will, his dark eyes glinting with predatory focus.

With a slow, deliberate release, he let gravity take her, her body easing back down his monstrous length with a slick, torturous schluuuurp, the sound wet and obscene, like flesh parting under a slow blade. His cock sank deep, too massive to fully fit, the swollen head pressing hard against her womb’s entrance, a stark bulge pulsing on her tummy where it lodged, her walls stretched taut around his girth, unable to take more. The pressure was excruciating—his tip ground against her deepest spot, gravity and his unyielding grip forcing every inch he could manage into her, her slickness pooling at their join, dripping in thick, glossy strands to the moss below with a faint plip-plip-plip. She quaked, her mind spiraling—He’s fillin’ every inch—gods, I’m goin’ under,—the bulge a visible testament to his size, throbbing hot and unrelenting as her swollen lips quivered around him.

He held her there, pausing, his breath a low, ragged growl, resting in his selfish bid to prolong it, the pressure building in her womb like a molten knot, searing and wild. Her body trembled violently, sweat beading on her brow, her slick thighs twitching as the ache surged beyond control. He’s got me pinned—fuck, I’m breakin’ apart, she thought, her senses drowning in the heat and stretch. Her climax hit, sudden and catastrophic—her cunt clamped down, a fierce, pulsing vise, squeezing his shaft with desperate, wet spasms, her overflowing juices gushing in a hot, torrential flood, squirting out in a high, forceful arc that sprayed across his thighs and splattered the moss beyond with a loud splsh-splsh-splsh, her swollen lips quivering as the excess dripped in creamy rivulets, pooling beneath her in a slick, shimmering puddle. His hand slipped from her mouth—overwhelmed by her intensity—and her scream tore free, ragged and primal: “Aaaahhh—Dain—fuck!” It rolled into a shuddering moan, “Nnnnnh—gods—yes!” echoing off the twisted trees, answered by a chorus of shrill bird cries erupting from the canopy, a wild flurry of wings beating the air in startled response.

Her release undid him—her tight, relentless milking and the sudden gush dragged him over the edge he’d fought to hold, defying her warning. His climax erupted, unintended and colossal—a guttural roar burst from his throat, “Hrrrngh—fuck—Sielle!” muffled against her neck, a faint hnnngh of shock escaping as he realized—Fuck—too soon—inside her?! His cock swelled, veins bulging against her overstretched walls, his seed blasting forth in a torrential gush, hot and thick, spurting into her with forceful splrt-splrt-splrt-splrt, each pulse a heavy, creamy flood that overwhelmed her depths, spilling out around his shaft in viscous, milky streams, mixing with her squirting slickness to cascade down her thighs in a sticky, molten river that puddled beneath them with a wet glrp-glrp-glrp. Her mind flared with fury and fear—He’s floodin’ me—damn him, he broke his word! Too much—could he…?—a fleeting panic at the fullness, the risk of his seed taking root, as his balls tightened, unloading in relentless waves, the sheer volume distending her faintly, the bulge of his cockhead still pressed against her womb, his hips jerking involuntarily as he shook, his mind blanking in the blinding peak. Her own senses spun—He’s wrecked me—bastard—I’ll make him pay,—her body thrashing, legs dangling helplessly as their combined gush painted the forest floor, the moss glistening with their excess.

He held her, trembling, his breath a ragged wheeze against her ear, her gasps wet and broken as aftershocks rippled through them, her swollen cunt still twitching around him, leaking their mingled fluids in slow, glistening drips that trailed down her thighs like liquid moonlight. Slowly, he lowered her to the moss, her naked form collapsing in a sprawl, silver hair fanned out like spilled moonlight, her chest heaving with labored, shuddering breaths, her thighs a glistening mess catching the moons’ glow, a faint ache in her core hinting at what might come. She lay there, spent, limbs heavy as stone, struggling to even lift her head, while Dain loomed over her, panting, his own legs unsteady, his cock still half-hard and dripping, his smirk faint but unbroken.

“Bloody hells, bunny,” he rasped, voice a gravelly croak, spit flecking his lips as he grinned. “Tried to last ‘til dawn, but you milked me dry with that banshee grip—your fault I painted ya inside.” He wiped sweat from his brow, his smirk widening into a taunting leer. “Greedy little vixen—bet those wobbly legs loved every drop.”

Sielle’s blue eyes flared, defiance slicing through exhaustion, her voice a hoarse snarl as she spat back, “Selfish… prick—I warned you… not to, you rutting pig!” She dragged herself to one elbow, wincing, a hand brushing her sticky belly with a furious grimace. “If this takes, I’ll carve your balls off—mark my words, you smug bastard!” She struggled to her feet, legs buckling like a newborn foal, and as she staggered upright, thick globs of cum oozed from her still-gaping hole, plopping to the moss with a wet splat-splat. “Look at this swamp, you leaking lout—ya turned me into a damn fountain!”

He laughed, a booming, throaty bellow, crouching beside her, his massive hand slapping her sticky thigh with a wet thwack. “Fountain? Lass, you’re a geyser—squirted like a damn storm! Tie me up next time if ya can stand without spillin’ my handiwork!” He winked, winded but smug, his breath heaving as he nodded at the dripping mess. “Worth it—admit ya loved that flood.”

She swatted his hand with a weak, sweaty smack, her growl ragged but venomous, swaying as more drips hit the ground with a faint plip. “Admit it? I’ll admit… I’ll gut you… with a rusty blade—you’ll pay… for this mess, you oaf!” Her legs quaked, and she caught herself, glaring as a rustle swelled, a sharp “Oi, Sielle? Dain?” cutting through the vines, footsteps thudding closer, punctuated by a faint bird screech still lingering in the air. “Your… beastly roar… woke ‘em—nice goin’, you… rule-breaking ox!”

He stood, stretching with a grunt, his laugh echoing as he tossed back, “My roar? Your wail riled the birds—sounded like a harpy in heat beggin’ for more! Camp’s comin’—better hobble quick, or they’ll catch ya drippin’ like a tavern tap!” He offered a hand, smirking wider, sweat glistening on his chest.

She batted it away with a shaky snarl, spit flying as she rasped, “Hobble? I’ll crawl… over your corpse… before you haul me, you seed-spillin’… boar! Next time… I’m gaggin’ you—after I gut ya… and feed ya to those damn birds!” Her smirk flickered, fierce despite her stumble, as his booming laugh clashed with a shout—“There—over there!”—the camp’s pursuit closing fast, the forest humming with scattered bird calls.