Page 39 of Beneath Hoof and Hollow
“You don’t like things in there?” Fierdon purrs. A small mass of vines presses against the tight flesh. My back arches, hipstrying to lean into the sensation before I can stop myself. It’s challenging without the proper leverage.
Fierdon chuckles and I freeze. Damn, I really do give in to everything my monster wants. There’s magic in his cum. Some of it must have seeped into my brain. The things he does to me would make the townsfolk clutch their crosses but for some reason I cannot get enough.
“Stop teasing m?—”
His cock and the vines take me in the same moment, claiming both spaces and filling me until I cry out. The moment Fierdon is fully seated inside, the magic saturates every throbbing inch between my thighs. I didn’t recognize it at first. Now, that glowy hum signals warmth, pleasure, the supernatural ability to fit a jack-o’-lantern’s monster shaft, and whatever other debauchery Fierdon has planned for me.
“I wasn’t like this before.” Fierdon slides in and out of me at a devastatingly slow pace. “I think magic cum was something you added when you cast the spell to raise me from the demon realm.”
“I…” My brain is borderline boiling as he works both places in tandem, applying slow but steady pressure everywhere I need it. “I wouldn’t even know how to add things to a spell.”
“Magic is all about intention. It knows your secret desires.” With a swift snap of his hips, he buries himself in me until his pelvis slaps against my ass. The vines tighten, anticipatingmy flailing. “And I think you desired to have your body licked, fucked, and stuffed by something inhuman, somethingthat knew how to make you scream.”
Another snap of his hips.
I feel the foliage slide across my clit. “Yes, yes,” I simper. “Right there. That’s what I need.”
“Do you hear that, Leed?” The pressure on my clit builds. My legs are already shaking. It only takes the slightest touch inthat area to make me see stars. “She needs this. A monster. An oversized cock. Her ass to be worked while her cunt rains down on this hallowed ground.”
“Stop it. Focus on me, not him.”
“Did he ever taste you?” Fierdongrowls out. “Stroke your clit? Slide inside you until that sensitive spot made you weep with pleasure?”
I’mpanting, my orgasm so close. “N-no.”
“Pathetic.” Fierdon slows his strokes and my building climax dissipates.
“No. Don’t stop.” I’m whining, begging for the release that wassoclose.
There’s a sharp crack beneath me. The sound of wood splintering has some of my brain tuning out my insatiable needs and into my current surroundings. My eyes are still covered.
“Fier, what was that?”
Instead of answering, he doubles down, cock, vines, cunt, ass, nipples, clit. I’m bombarded with pleasure so thoroughly that I come without thought. The dead man beneath me? Might as well not exist. The fact we’re in a literal cemetery? Who cares. The thought that any of the townsfolk could catch us in the act? My brain has shut off the part that processes consequences. All I can do in this moment is be a vessel for pleasure as it courses through me hard enough to make my ears ring and bones grind.
Fierdon’s release comes soon after. With my sight taken, I’m able to tune into sensations I’ve never noticed before. I can literally feel his seeds spraying deep within me. Hot cum, clusters of seeds, sticky, wet, slippery. I’m momentarily uncomfortable. There’s too much spend. I’m too full.
Fierdon’s cock pops free and he buries his face between my thighs, licking out his mess and cleaning me up so thoroughly that relief, and then another orgasm, ripple through me.
There’s the loud sound of spit, followed by liquid hitting the wood below.
“I know you didn’t just spit your cum on my dead fiancé’s grave,” I deadpan.
“I would never. The seeds slipped out of my mouth,” he says innocently.
“Sure they did.” I roll my eyes beneath the blindfold.
Fier pulls me from the grave, not restoring my sight until we’ve left the cemetery.
“You know whoever covers that up is going to have quite a fright when they see someone has cracked a coffin open and left a face staring up at them.”
“Not as big of a fright as if they had seen me fucking you with a pumpkin cock on top of that coffin.”
I laugh. Am I really so deranged as to find these things funny?
“Here.” Fierdon drops down with me in his arms and places a hand in the dirt. The ground trembles and I’m momentarily thrown back into the memory of our final moments with Itrimort. “Fear not. My vines are simply traveling below ground.” When the rumbling stops, he smiles. “There. All covered up. Every grave. The attendants will find themselves work-free when they return to finish the job.”
“What a gentleman,” I tease. Really it was a kind thing to do.
