My cock twitched at the sight of her hole and I regretted not fucking my seed into her the first time. My palms spanned the swell of her belly, possessive even in this small touch. The changeling within rippled at my presence—not a kick, but a laugh, the little beast already delighting in her distress.
Good.
I smiled, slow and deliberate, letting Willow see the fangs behind it.
“Your womb suits my purposes, mortal,” I murmured, claws pricking just enough to make her gasp. “But this? This joy from tormenting you?”
The changeling kicked again, hard, and I relished the way her breath hitched. Pain or pleasure. Even she didn’t know anymore.
“This is all mine,” I said before lulling my son to sleep.
Her desperation was a living thing, thick as the scent of crushed petals and salt-stung skin. The vines held her fast—my vines, grown from the thorns I’d carved into her collar—as she arched against them, her damp red hair a wildfire against the black silk of my bed.
“Please,” she sobbed, though whether she begged for mercy or ruin, even she didn’t seem to know.
The aphrodisiac did its work well. Her pupils were blown wide, her green eyes glazed like frosted glass. That pouting mouth, usually so stubborn, now dripped with pleas.
“P-please, take me,” she slurred, her hips straining upward.
“You’ll take what I give you,” I murmured. “When I choose to give it.”
The vines tightened in response, thorns pricking her thighs. She wailed—not in pain, but in frustration—and the sound was sweeter than any Fae wine in my Court.
I gripped my throbbing rod, rubbing it over her cunt until she coated my dark flesh. My magic held her open, and I eased my way in, filling her with slow, deliberate cruelty. She sighed and I hissed at the feel of her swallowing my cock, encasing it in her tight sheath. I gripped her thighs, ready to make her feel all of me.
“Breathe, broodmare,” I purred, with my claws pricking her thighs. “You'll take all of me.”
I plunged into her. She was so wet that I sank into her. The feel of her soft, young flesh stretching to accommodate me was delicious. Her cries were a beautiful symphony of her impending destruction. I didn't stop fucking her until I was seated to the hilt.
“Do you like me filling you up like this, Willow?” I asked, teasing her bundle of nerves hiding beneath her wildfire hair. “My dirty little flower. You need more, don't you?”
She nodded with a sob as I started to swing my hips back and forth. Her bound breasts jerk up and down with each violent thrust. The vines hold her in place, so I didn't harm my babe. Her swollen body only makes me fuck her harder. The only body capable of nourishing my seed.
The filthy wet sounds from her pussy join her moans. I move my hand from her pussy to palm her hard belly, reaching over to slap her distended breasts until she breaks for me. My balls tightened, and I growled when her hole rapidly contracted around me. Her scream pierced my ears, but it was cut short as her hips started to dance, begging for my seed.
“Dirty flower, take my seed as you were meant to,” I snarled as I see white while I deposit torrents of my seed inside of her.
My balls pulsated as I continued to empty myself inside her. I gripped her breasts, pinching her nipples until milk erupted from her rosy pink nipples. I stared at the droplets forming before they leaked down her breasts. My groin was soaked from how wet the little whore became. She was more than a wet nurse. My dirty little flower would become my prized breeder.
Her eyes fluttered open as I leaned down to lick her creamy milk up. I kept my eyes on her, but when she began to raise her hips again, I paused in stealing my son’s milk. Her eyes glazed over, and she looked feverish.
“You need more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she whispered, trying to hide her face in the curls of her hair, but not before I saw her devastating shame.
It only gave me more ammunition to use against her. The vines released her breasts, and with a flick of a finger, they wrapped around her milk-sodden nipples.
“Are you sure, little flower?” I asked pulling my cock out of her. She licked her lips nervously before nodding.
She should have known better. I conjured a golden chalice and held it against her hole. She gasped as the cold metal touched her hot skin. My seed trickled out of her before it gushed out. I retracted my claws and pushed two fingers in to scoop out any excess. The vines were torturing her nipples, milking them until the white mingled with green leaves.
“Drink every last drop.”
I gripped the back of her neck, lifting it until I pressed the chalice to her lips. She hesitated before her lips parted. I tipped the chalice until I saw her throat ripple as she drank my seed. The three rows of thorns moved with her since they were alive and part of her. I couldn't have chosen a better place to leave my changeling than in her womb.
???
Her body was a canvas of my ownership—crisscrossed with vine marks, dotted with the bite marks I’d left on her breasts and thighs. My filthy flower had begged for every one of them. I traced the dried blood on her neck from the collar of thorns, recalling how tightly she’d squeezed my cock when I gave her a taste of pain.
