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Being a stallion is fucking shit. He has been two for a handful of months and already he is sick of the rampant lust that controls him, dominates him. He prays to all the Gods in the sky that he will grow out of this - that his desires will wane with age, and that he will be returned to the vice-like control of his own body that personified him as a boy. Save for the visceral flashes of his volcanic temper, he always maintained an iron grip on himself, refusing to let himself be owned even by his own emotions. If he is to be the master warrior that his sheer bulk and musculature say he should be, the king he hungers to be, he cannot quiver at the loins at the mere sight of a mare. But everything has changed now testosterone owns him. Even he, with his colossal strength, cannot reign in the beast that screams in his balls, driving him to roam far and wide in search of women to cover. His searches find nothing, and he is condemned to wander in a haze of ravishing frustration. Even his dragon has forsaken him, taking himself off to hunt far away from the tumultous, sexual thoughts of his bonded, leaving the mammoth stallion alone. It is perhaps a blessing that he has not come across his sister during his daily maraudings, as he knows he would be unable to control himself around her. Nymeria, with her easy beauty, her ferocious power...shit, he can feel his thighs aching at the very thought. Best that he stays well away from his beloved twin until this phase has passed. His roamings bring him to the Blood Falls, his single favourite place in Helovia. He owns this place, and he swiftly bucks his hips to spill his scent against a tree and solidify his claim over the area. Snorting his satisfaction, the behemoth turns and rests one massive shoulder against the tree, admiring his territory. From the crimson waterfall to the eternally autumnal trees, the land just appeals to him in a way few other places ever had. The Deep Forest has its plus points, with its lingering shadows and lurking animals for him to hunt down, but the Falls are just so damn right. He forces his lust-filled, hedonistic mind to focus on the simple serenity of the place, regulating his breathing and commanding his body to submit to him. This is just a phase; he will survive it, and be all the stronger for it. He will not be this obsessed forever. He will rise one day and look back on this period with nostalgic amusement - ah, the days when I was so addicted to women that I walked around with my balls banging against my hocks! Or so he prays. The alternative, that he's stuck like this forever, is too unnerving to even contemplate. "" PLEASURE TO MEET YOU, PREPARE TO BLEED |
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ]
[ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
