Bred - Blog Posts
She left the bathroom door open. An invitation. A challenge. Steam rolls out, thick and heavy, but it’s her scent that draws me in—sweet, needy, already waiting. I step inside, and there she is, standing under the shower, her hands gliding over her wet skin, pretending she doesn’t know exactly what she just did.
But I know.
I don’t say a word. I don’t need to. In three strides, I’m behind her, yanking her against me, letting her feel exactly what she’s done to me. She gasps, back arching, ass pressing into my cock, slick and ready. My hand snakes up, fingers wrapping around her throat, tilting her head back against my shoulder.
“You knew I’d come,” I growl against her ear.
She whimpers, nodding. That’s all I need. I shove her forward, pressing her against the cold tile, spreading her open. No teasing. No hesitation. Just one brutal thrust, and I’m inside—hot, tight, perfect pussy.
She cries out, hands scrambling for something to hold onto, but I don’t let up. I grip her hips and fuck her like an animal, like she’s mine to take, mine to fill. Because she is. Every slap of skin, every ragged moan, every desperate clench of her soaked cunt screams it.
She left that door open because she wanted this—wanted to be bred, claimed, ruined. And I give it to her, pounding her into the tile, dragging my teeth over her shoulder, leaving my mark.
Her legs shake first, a strangled moan ripping from her throat as she comes, walls milking my cock, begging for more. I don’t stop, don’t slow. I grab her tighter, thrust deeper, chasing the only thing left—burying myself inside her and filling her up completely until she has no doubt she’s been fucking bred.
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Hi all of you beautiful whores. I wrote a small short story that I have been working on for the last two weeks, and I think I'm finally done. Let me know what you guys think. Any constructive criticism is welcome!
Forbidden Hollow
*Ivy shouldn’t have gone alone.
But there was something about Briar Hollow—something that called to her every time she stood too close to its edge. The trees whispered. The wind carried screams she pretended not to hear.
And when she stepped over the edge, it was like slipping into another world. The air was thick, humid, the sky dark. The moon was casting shadows in every direction, and her thighs clenched without reason. Her pulse pounded in places she didn’t expect.
Hours passed. The woods grew darker than they should have. Her flashlight flickered, then died. She stood there feeling some kind of presence around her. And that’s when she heard it—slow, deliberate breathing, just behind her.
She wasn’t being watched.
She was being hunted.
Something massive moved just out of view. The shadows shifted with intent. Every step she took was followed by something bigger, closer.
Then she saw it.
Towering. Humanoid only in silhouette, but too perfect—muscles carved like ancient marble statues, pulsing with veins that glowed faintly violet. Its eyes glimmered like gold, its mouth split into too many teeth. But it smiled.*
“You crossed over into my woods,” *it said, voice sharp and slick.* “Now I take what im owed.”
*She backed away—but she wasn’t scared. Not exactly.
She was wet.
It moved impossibly fast, pinning her against a moss-covered tree with hands large enough to crush her skull—and instead, it gripped her waist. She gasped as heat bloomed between her legs. Her clothes peeled away on command, vines assisting, curling around her like ropes, but never breaking skin.
She should have fought. But her body melted into its touch. She ached.
Its long tongue traced a line up her stomach, tasting her skin like it was savoring every inch. When it reached her throat, it didn't bite—it moaned. The sound echoed in her bones.
Then it took her.
One thick, impossibly hot thrust—and she screamed. In pain. In pleasure. In shock. In surrender.
It didn’t just fuck her. It claimed her.
Every stroke was too deep, too perfect, hitting spots she didn’t know existed. It growled every time she clenched, every time she cried out. Her nails dug into bark. Her moans turned to song. Her body moved like it was made for this—needing him, meeting him. He had a knot at the base of his cock forcing itself inside of her, locking itself into her wet cunt.
When she came, it was like drowning in fire. Her vision blacked out. Her soul shuddered.
And it wasn’t done.
It flipped her still locked inside and took her again. Her body dripping. Wrung out. But hungry. So hungry.
And when it finally came again—deep inside, filling her with something hot and writhing—it purred. It bred her.*
“Now you belong to the Hollow.”