Vines of Savage Craving 💋
The sun baked my black fur as I prowled the dusty caravan trail, my tail flicking irritably against the hot sand. Name’s Lena, a sleek pantheress rogue with curves that turned heads and claws that ended fights quick. Emerald eyes scanning the horizon, I clutched the smooth obsidian idol I’d snagged from that greasy weasel peddler back at the oasis bazaar. Flashback to yesterday: his beady eyes gleaming, whiskers twitching as he shoved it into my paws for a fistful of coppers. “Cursed treasure, eh? Perfect for a sly cat like you,” he’d cackled. I should’ve walked, but the thing pulsed warm under my fingers, whispering promises of power. Now, deep in the crimson canyon where no sane fur dared tread, regret gnawed at me like a bad hangover.
Sweat beaded on my tawny underbelly, mixing with the metallic tang of canyon dust in the air. My lithe muscles ached from the trek, pert breasts heaving under my skimpy leather harness. The idol grew hotter, vibrating faintly. “What the fuck is this shit?” I muttered, dropping it onto the jagged rock ledge overlooking a steaming hot spring. Birds screeched overhead, scattering like they knew what was coming. Steam rose in lazy curls, carrying a musky, earthy scent that made my nostrils flare and my slit twitch inexplicably beneath my tail.
Crack. The idol split with a wet pop, green ichor oozing out. Vines erupted like serpents from hell, thicker than my thighs, slick and throbbing with unnatural life. They lashed out, wrapping my ankles before I could bolt. “Shit! Get off me!” I yowled, slashing with claws, but they coiled tighter, thorns pricking just enough to draw tiny beads of blood. The scent hit harder now—sweet sap and raw lust, invading my lungs, making my head swim.
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Chapter 1: Canyon Trap Snaps Shut
I thrashed, tail whipping wildly, but those bastards yanked my legs wide. One vine slithered up my inner thigh, rough texture scraping my silky fur, sending shivers up my spine. It teased my folds, already damp from the humid air—or was it? My pussy clenched in betrayal, lips parting with a soft schlick. “No… fuck you!” I snarled through gritted fangs, twisting to bite at another vine snaking toward my neck.
It clamped my throat, squeezing just right to make stars burst in my vision. Air rasped in, tasting of salt and sap. Smaller tendrils wormed under my harness, ripping it off with a tear that echoed off the canyon walls. My heavy tits bounced free, nipples hardening in the breeze, dark peaks begging for touch. A vine latched onto one, suckers pulsing, milking me with wet slurps. Milk? No, just the pressure drawing out drops of sweat or… precum from my glands? Felt too good, electric jolts shooting straight to my core.
Behind me, cold stone bit my tailbase as they pinned me face-down over a boulder. Ass up, vulnerable. The scent was everywhere now, intoxicating, like feral rut mixed with blooming nightflowers. A fat vine prodded my asscheeks, probing my puckered hole. I bucked, but it forced in, inch by burning inch, stretching my ring wide. “Gah! Too big, you leafy cocksucker!” Pain twisted into filthy pleasure, my walls gripping it greedily.
Then the real assault. A massive tendril, bulbous and veined like a demon dick, nudged my dripping cunt. It was ridged, oozing a sticky nectar that burned sweet on my tongue when I licked my lips. No mercy—it rammed home, splitting me open. My scream echoed, raw and throaty, as it bottomed out, kissing my cervix with a thud. Ripples ran through it, massaging every ridge inside me. Touch like velvet fire, sounds of squelching wet fucks filling the air, taste of drool and dust on my lips.
I clawed the rock, splinters under nails, but my hips rocked back instinctive. Hated it. Loved it. Vines fucked both holes now, syncing brutal. The anal one swelled, plugging me airtight, while pussy invader twisted, grinding my g-spot till I squirted first gush. “Fuuuuck! Cumming already, damn you!” Juices sprayed, hot and acrid, soaking the sand.
They weren’t done. Thinner vines invaded my mouth, forcing jaws apart, pumping down my throat. Gagging, choking, but swallowing that nectar made my body burn hotter. Vision blurred with tears, hearing only my muffled moans and the vines’ pulsing throb. Another climax built, womb aching empty.
Chapter 2: Womb’s Wicked Filling
Hours? Minutes? Time smeared in the haze. The pussy vine hammered deeper, battering my cervix till it bloomed open like a flower in heat. Pain seared—white-hot lance—but nectar soothed, turning it to throbbing need. “Deeper… no, stop! Gods, yes!” Internal war, my mind screaming resistance while body begged.
It breached. Bulbous head popped into my womb, stretching walls never meant for this. Felt it all: the pop, the flood of warmth, the impossible fullness. Eggs came next. First one, fist-sized, smooth shell pulsing life. Vine swelled grotesquely, forcing it through my spasming channel. My slit gaped lewdly, lips puffy red, as it lodged in utero with a wet plop I felt in my soul.
“Nngh! It’s… planting… me!” Drool cascaded from my chin, tits swinging pendulous, nipples raw from suckers. Egg after egg followed, each bulge visible snaking up the vine, distending my belly bit by bit. Ten? Twenty? My flanks ballooned, fur stretching taut, a gravid dome rising. Weight pinned me, but pleasure outweighed—each deposit triggered mini-orgasms, pussy milking like a vice.
Air thick with my musk now, cuntcream and sap mingling into heady perfume. Sounds: my grunts turning to mewls, vines sloshing eggs home. Taste: salty tears, nectar’s honey tang. Touch: eggs jostling inside, pressing nerves everywhere. Sight: belly swelling past my tits, veined and shiny.
Finally, vines withdrew with obscene pops. Cum-like residue gushed from my ruined holes, pooling sticky. I collapsed, panting, womb a churning nest. Eggs wriggled faintly, alive. Canyon spun, aftershocks rippling. “What… the hell… have you done to me?” Whispered to the cooling idol shards.
But instinct kicked. Can’t stay. Staggered up, belly swaying heavy, slit winking open still. Fur matted, scent marking me as bred bitch. Canyon exit seemed miles, but village lights flickered distant. Help? Or horror?
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Chapter 3: Village Heat Ignites 🔥
Twilight shadows cloaked my waddle into Thornwood village, anthro haven of fur and fang. Guards—burly boar bois—eyed my bloated gut, snouts wrinkling at the reek of ravaged pussy wafting off me. “Lena? Fuck, what knocked you up like that? Tavern wench’s litter?” One grunted, tusks gleaming.
“Shut it, Gruk. Magical bullshit. Need shaman.” I shoved past, belly brushing his crotch. Felt his cock twitch through pants. Village square buzzed: foxes haggling, wolves roaring laughs. All heads turned. Whispers: “Pantheress broodmare.” “Smells like jungle rut.”
Shaman’s hut loomed, woven vines and bones. Inside, Gorak the rhino anthro loomed, horn curved wicked, muscles like boulders under gray hide. “Lena. The idol? Foolish kitty.” His voice gravel rumble, eyes on my swollen form.
“Fix it, hornhead. These eggs… they’re moving. Burning me up inside.” I stripped, presenting. Ass high, tail aside—cunt still loose, egg outlines pressing out. Milk beaded my nips already, unnatural lactation from the curse.
Gorak snorted, hoofed feet thudding close. “No fix. Vine spawn gestate fast. Only way ease: drain seed pressure.” His massive paw gripped my hip, cock unsheathing—arm-thick, flared head drooling. “Take my load, breed over breed.”
“You horny bastard! Just—ahh!” He impaled me, rhino dick slamming past eggs, stirring the nest. Pain-pleasure explosion. “Fuck yes, stretch me wider! Pound those eggs!” I yowled, claws raking his chest. Hut filled with slaps of fur on hide, my belly jiggling against him.
He rutted savage, grunting, “Tight even fat with spawn! Milk those tits, slut!” Suckled hard, guzzling my sweet flow. Taste flooded him; I tasted his pre, musky salt on my tongue when I licked his balls. Scents mingled: my creamy heat, his bull musk, eggs’ earthy pulse. Sounds: wet churns, my screams echoing.
We came together—him flooding my womb, eggs swimming in rhino cum. Collapsed in heap, his shaft plugging leaks. “More tomorrow,” he growled. Village night alive with jealous howls.
Chapter 4: Gestation Frenzy
Days blurred in Gorak’s hut, my belly ballooning to beachball size. Eggs grew, wriggling constant, pressing bladder till I pissed squirts mid-fuck. Village studs lined up—wolf alpha with knotted cock, bear brute splitting my ass, even sly vixen with strap-on ridges.
“Deeper, knot my cervix!” I begged the wolf, legs over shoulders, belly smothering us. His knot ballooned, sealing cum inside, mixing with vine spawn. Orgasms chained, squirting arcs soaking furs. Bear took rear: “Gape that shithole, mama cat!” Anal prolapse tease, rosebud blooming pink.
Gorak orchestrated orgies. Sensory overload: tastes of cum varieties—bitter wolf, thick bear; smells of sweat-soaked fur, pussy juice puddles; touches of claws raking back, tongues lapping folds; sights of my reflection in basin, gravid goddess ruined; sounds of filthy chants: “Breed the pantheress! Fill her forever!”
New conflict brewed. Eggs matured uneven—some hatched inside, tiny tendrils tickling womb, fingering nerves. “They’re… fucking me from within!” Climax after climax, no sleep. Gorak brewed potions, heightening sensitivity. Nipples streamed milk nonstop, villagers suckling like pups.
One night, storm raged. Lightning flashed my distended form. Pains hit—labor. “It’s time! Gorak, you bull—help!” He grinned, cock ready. “Birthing ruts best.”
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Chapter 5: Ecstatic Birth and Craving’s Return
First egg crowned, stretching my cunt to ripping limits. “Push, Lena! Milk it out!” Gorak roared, fingers fisting my ass for leverage. Pain crested with pleasure—egg slick, vine nectar lubing the way. Popped free with gush of fluids, steaming on furs.
“Holy fuck, that felt… amazing!” Wave crashed, squirting harder than ever. More followed, each birth an orgasmic expulsion. Eggs piled, pulsing alive. Tiny vines emerged from some, seeking milk—latching to tits, suckling greedy. Felt like nursing demon spawn, bliss overload.
Villagers crowded, cocks out, jerking to the show. “Hot damn, pantheress laying like whore!” Cum rained on me, painting black fur white. Gorak plunged in mid-lay, fucking around emerging eggs. “Take it all, my bred bitch!”
Womb emptied slow, forty eggs total. Body deflated, but loose—gaping pussy fisting-wide, prolapsed rosebud. Exhausted bliss, scents of birth fluids, cum, milk thick. Tastes lingered: egg slime sweetish on tongue. Touches: tender caresses amid rough paws. Sights: spawn writhing, already sprouting. Sounds: my purring moans, crowd cheers.
But curse lingered. Idol shards reformed distant in canyon, pulsing call. Craving gnawed anew—needed more. “Gorak… we hunt it. Together.” He nodded, horn gleaming. Village hailed us, new legends born.
We prowled out at dawn, bellies empty but souls full. Vines awaited, savage cycle eternal. My tail flicked eager, slit dripping anticipation. Fuck yeah, bring it.
The end? Nah, just round two brewing. 🔥
