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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    [mature]  it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased -- deathwish
    #8
    Deathwish
    im a DIY pioneer, they tryna get involved

    She rocked her hips back and forth and arched her back, melting into him as the water dragged around her body, the wetness slipping into places his tongue could not get to. Being loved and laved in places that he cannot fathom, even in all his wildest dreams. But he does not need to worry - his magic has done the job for him, and done it well, it has. She comes hard, in a feast of blood and sweat, and then clenches her hips and twists, A flair in her eyes as she smiles darkly, and begins to grab a new grip on Maugrim, grabbing him instead by that most precious part that lead him here to her. She bucks upward, throwing her hips downward, and mid twist, Deathwish reaches up to bite Maugrim, rotting him from the hips down, holding him in place as she frantically pushes back, using his body, milking him, draining him dry. She wants all he can take and more, and she wants to watch him beg while she does it.

    She wants none of him. And yet she wants to devour him.

    It is almost as if she can feel him claiming her in every thrust, but still it is not enough. She squeals, and bites him one last time, before releasing his rotted nethers, and yet continues to hold him in place inside her.

    Joined.

    "This is where you belong," she snarls, wiggling her hips and lowering her croup to nestle fully into his loin. "As long as you never forget that, bring me prey. And then we shall play." She begins to rock back against him, closing her eyes and coming again, her backside drenched in his seed, in his wetness. She smelled like salt and saline.

    She stunk.

    She was addicted to it.

    She was addicted to him.

    yippee kiyay ahh yea, bout to set it off
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    RE: it was a blood-soaked feast that never ceased -- deathwish - by Deathwish - 01-02-2018, 03:03 PM



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