《Unnatural Instinct: Transform》27.
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The room is quiet except for the sound of his sucking and the pounding of your heart. Arching your neck, you smooth your hands down his horns. Reaching their base, you feel the skin around them where the bone meets his scalp. Then you rake your fingers through his hair.
Finally, he's had enough of your breasts and looks at you breathlessly, his face flushed, his lips wet. 'What is your name?' he pants. 'I don't even know it.'
You tell him. 'And yours?'
'Rush.'
'Rush,' you repeat, kissing him on his left cheek. 'Rush,' you repeat again as you kiss his right cheek. Then you meet his lips again and as you do you push him flat onto the bed.
Even now, as you gaze down at him, you feel a twist of uncertainty in your guts, that you really shouldn't be doing this, but it's only fleeting, and soon you're kissing him down his throat, down his sternum, his belly. His nipples are hard and dark, his muscles firm beneath your lips. You pull back as you reach his groin. His erection is lying hard and flat against his pelvis, red and pulsing. You can feel the heat of it like a blaze against your face.
You look at him and he looks at you, waiting. Leaning over, you kiss the tip, then drag your tongue down the length of him. When you meet his soft, wrinkled balls, you kiss them too.
You'll be able to have children...
No. Not children. Little monsters. Cute monsters. Your monsters. Briefly, you think of your own childhood, then of your parents. You've never known what happened to them. All you know is that you were found abandoned. Were they monsters too? Both of them or one of them? Or maybe neither of them? Maybe they looked human on the outside but merely carried the 'monster' gene.
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What really happened to them?
'Something wrong?' he says, sitting up on his elbows.
You are a Drona, and one of the last of your kind.
'Nothing,' you say a little too thickly. A solitary tear trembles on your eyelid. Before he can say anything you seize onto his massive shaft, making him drop back into the bed with a gasp.
As you grip him, you look down at yourself, and for the first time realise that all your terrible wounds have mostly healed. From the springs? From your monstrous blood? Are you self-healing? Long red marks, similar to rashes, are the only evidence of the terrible agony you endured.
And you notice something more. Not only are you taller, your arms and legs longer, but your hips are wider too. It seems reasonable, considering the overall size of you—and the size of him. And you were right about your breasts—they're certainly bigger. Your nipples are hard and his saliva has turned them sticky.
He seizes your wrist. 'You're thinking about something.'
'Of course I am. I'm thinking about everything.'
'Talk to me.'
You shake your head. 'Later. I can't-I can't deal with it right now. Just let me ... just let me lose myself ... a little bit.'
Releasing him, you climb off him and kneel on the floor. He sits up, realising what you want to do. You grab his shaft again and pull it towards your mouth. The feel of your hot breath makes him engorge even further. Your hands are bigger now but even despite that, he's still a lot to grip.
He collapses back into the bed as you take him in your mouth. He groans, gasps, grunts as you try to engulf as much of him as possible. He tastes like the water in the spring. Sweet. Warm. Vibrant. You quickly find that he's too big to swallow him all, so you pull back and take him in again, reaching the halfway point before pulling back to suck him again and again.
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You watch him as you do, enjoying the way he stretches out on the bed, the big muscles rippling in his stomach and bulging in his shoulders. Agitated, he braces his hands behind his head, where he claws at his hair, his canines bared.
You start to fondle his balls and he seems to like that just as much, growling like an animal. Like the monster he is. Slowly, you pull your mouth away, sliding your tongue along the length of him. When you reach the tip you discover a bead of glinting semen, which you promptly lick up. Then you start jabbing at his little hole with your tongue.
With a grunt, he suddenly sits up, seizing onto your left horn. 'Stop,' he gasps. 'That's enough.'
Slowly, he stands, his eyes dark and lazy with lust. You stay kneeling, looking up at him in awe. Wrapping your arms around his pelvis, you press your face into his groin. Why you do that, you don't know. For some reason it feels safe.
It feels good.
He tangles his fingers through your hair. You kiss his hips bones, then press your mouth against the base of his erection. 'Take me to bed,' you murmur in a muffled voice.
He doesn't hesitate, gripping you under your arms and hauling you to your feet. Looking deep into your eyes, he kisses you on the lips before lifting you into his embrace. 'You're sad,' he says.
'No. Just ... just do it.'
He stares at you a moment before gently resting you on the bed.
'Take me hard,' you say, spreading your legs.
The mattress sinks, the slats beneath creak, as he kneels his great weight in the bed between your knees. He's like a brick wall, all red and tensed up. His slitted eyes seem to bore straight through you.
Then he crawls on top of you. He doesn't take his time, just as you asked, sliding into you in one hard thrust. He thrusts again and again, his hips pounding against yours. His gaze seems almost empty, like you're staring into the eyes of a doll as he becomes overwhelmed with his own pleasure. His forehead is furrowed; his lips pull back as he grits his teeth.
'Harder,' you say. 'Harder.'
So he does. The bed creaks. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you thrust up against him, trying to take him in deeper. He thrusts again and again and again. And at every thrust he snarls or grunts or growls. You reach out to grab onto the headboard, but he stops you, pinning your wrists to the bed as he pushes into you ever more deeply.
He arches his neck as he comes. He's so swollen inside you he can hardly move now. He alters his long, hard thrusting to deep little jabs that make you clamp your knees hard around his hips. You arch your neck too, bracing yourself for the rising tide of heat pooling in your hips.
Finally, it hits. You suffer it with a small cry while his roar explodes around the room. It's so loud it makes your ears ring.
He's still jabbing into you, his arse thrusting between your thighs, until he finally sags on top of you with a sigh, his face buried in your neck.
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