L*st and Death

“Ha... haa, I like this quite a lot.”

At the sound of Isaac’s laugh, Siron realized—too late—that he’d wet himself, but with his bladder, prostate, colon, even his rectal ring crushed and squeezed, he had no strength left to clench anything. His insides were a wreck, yet the bit in his mouth—his shackles—couldn’t be shaken off by his own will.

Isaac released one of the hands braced on Siron’s shoulders, trailing it down to his swollen belly, stroking idly as his hips moved in a slow grind. The thick shaft buried inside him shifted with the implication that there was still more that could be crammed in, that he could still push deeper, before starting a deliberate, steady back-and-forth.

He dragged himself out slowly, as though scraping down the inside, then forced his way back in, roughly prying through the reflexive contractions of Siron’s gut. He didn’t speed up, didn’t drive any deeper—but it was already a thoroughly destructive fuck. In Isaac’s arms, Siron felt crushed, ground down.

“I—nghh—can’t... I can’t do this... hhhngh!”

Not knowing what else to do, Siron turned his head cautiously to look back—but all he saw was the thickly veined side of Isaac’s neck and the taut bulge of his jaw muscle working under clenched teeth. He laid his own trembling hands over the one on his lower stomach and whispered miserably,

“I don’t want this, sob... nngh... I really can’t... okay?”

Isaac slowly lowered his head, watching him with a gaze that savored the tears caught in the corners of Siron’s eyes, the shivering voice.

“Shh.”

You fucking dog. Siron tried not to cry, but the sobs wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t understand why this absurd torture was happening to him now. Tears like acid rain stung their way down his cheeks, the sobs turning to a wildfire of grief that burned his mind raw.

Then suddenly, Isaac seized his chin and kissed him. As if to say he’d hear no more protests, no more pleading or questions, he sucked hard on Siron’s lips, moving his hips all the while. Slick fluid soaked them both, but it still wasn’t enough—when that cock sank deep again and began to draw back, his entire inner wall clung to it, moving as one with the thick column. The sensation was like nonexistent roots tangled through his flesh being ripped out.

“Mmphh... mngh!”

Siron jerked at the hollow, dropping ache that ripped through him, but every sound he made was swallowed by Isaac’s mouth. And then the vicious shaft mashed through his walls again, pushing past his limit. Pain and pleasure knotted together, wringing his insides. I can’t... I can’t take it—

For a moment, he blacked out. When his vision blinked back into focus, he realized he’d been moved.

Now he was perched on the armrest of a four-seater couch, legs splayed limply. His heels were hooked over Isaac’s shoulders, and the fucking hadn’t stopped.

But something was different this time—the angle had changed, and with it, the points of stimulation. A new line of nerves lit up. Even dazed, Siron realized he was aroused again. His hole, catching up to the rut of its conscious owner, was now greedily kneading around the cock that was raking over his prostate as if desperate for the taste.

Isaac, who had been giving slow, rubbing thrusts from the rim to his prostate, seemed to notice Siron’s return to awareness. He answered that faint eagerness with a sudden deep plunge. Siron’s lips fell open helplessly.

“Ah—ahh—hahk—nngh—ahhh!”

Short, broken cries slipped out between his teeth. Warmth spread sweetly through his whole body, and for a moment he let himself moan. But then the memory returned—he’d been fucking for far longer than just the last few minutes. If he counted the time he’d been unconscious, it had been going on much, much longer.

Alarmed, he craned his head to look—and what he saw made his stomach drop. The monster killing him bit by bit was right there in front of his eyes.

What the hell—is that a horse cock?

The brutal thing dominating his body was even larger, even more terrifyingly imposing than he’d imagined. Even with enough of it inside to pound his prostate from within, there was still a hand’s length of shaft left outside his hole.

Under the taut skin of that grotesquely thick, long cock, violet-tinged blue veins bulged along the shaft, worming their way like a cluster of giant earthworms clinging and writhing against his flesh. The sight made him queasy.

And there was more—when it pulled back, the swollen mound of flesh around his hole puffed outward; when it drove in again, it sank deep as though the ground were caving in. Siron stared, transfixed, watching the skin around his hole ripple like quake-shaken earth with each in-and-out. The abdominal pressure from holding his head up only made the crushing presence inside him more vivid, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Then he realized something crucial—there was no semen pooled messily at the join. The cock’s slick, glistening sheen came solely from his own translucent fluids. Isaac hadn’t come even once.

“Hhhgh—hahh—are you... are you bored?”

“...Maybe.”

Fuck it. I’d rather pass out.

But the virtuoso psycho director pushing Siron, star of this brutal sex show, had no intention of giving him a break.

Isaac leaned forward, spreading Siron’s legs wider, his lower body fully open to take every movement. Unable to twist or escape, Siron felt every ounce of Isaac’s weight pressing down on him.

And then, once again—Isaac’s way of doing things. Thorough, merciless, the real thing. Siron cursed the alpha race, their monstrous stamina and bodies that never seemed to tire. After thirty minutes—no, maybe longer—the measured, controlled pace began to quicken, until Isaac’s hips were pistoning with near-feral intensity.

“I’m gonna—ugh—die—hahhh—ahhhk!”

The sensation of his rectal bends being crushed drew a ragged expression over Siron’s face. His ass muscles twitched and jerked as if in seizure, but Isaac never loosened the grip of the arms pinning him. Instead, he poured pleasure into the body he held captive.

Warmth spread in a heavy, saturating wave, the climax arriving at the end of a frenzy. Driving through the folds of his colon, Isaac finally spilled deep inside, releasing a heavy load beyond that inner curve, then collapsed against Siron, every muscle slackening.

Their breathing tangled, one rhythm between them. But even with the curtain fallen, that heavy presence inside still sat in him, soaking in its own semen, enjoying the pressure of his inner walls.

And slowly, like a low-temperature burn damaging tissue from deep within, the slicked walls began to throb faintly. Just like with Lewis, it seemed alpha semen carried some concentrated agent that stoked arousal.

Like Baekgyeong’s pheromones drifting in the air, Isaac’s seed smeared white along his mucosa sent Siron’s body into a warm daze. Pinned under Isaac’s heavy torso and locked in his arms, Siron, within the limits of his movement, gave himself small pleasures.

“Hhhngh... mmm—hahhh—hahh!”

Closing his eyes, he drew in Baekgyeong’s scent and pheromones with deliberate care, while his snug, slightly swollen hole flexed and loosened around Isaac’s shaft, rolling his hips in slow circles. The semen- and slick-soaked mucosa clung to the column, drawing tight, rubbing. He savored the heavy knot of pleasure blooming near his tailbone, squeezing down on him with his sphincter.

The sensation of deliberately stimulating the uneven ridges of the shaft was good—so good he wanted to memorize every contour, every texture of that obscene girth inside him. Thinking of that unnaturally huge cock, he rolled his hips the other way, squeezing shamelessly.

The way it rubbed over his swollen walls was so damnably good he could hardly stand it. Baekgyeong’s habit of calling his ass a “back mouth” wasn’t wrong. Forgetting shame, Siron milked the cock like candy with his “back mouth,” tightening and loosening, grinding for his own fun.

“Mmm... nghhh...”

“Ha... hahahaha.”

At the sound of Isaac’s laugh, Siron opened his eyes sluggishly. Isaac was smiling, amused. Flustered, Siron stopped moving, and Isaac said,

“Why stop? Weren’t you scratching right where it felt good?”

“I—it wasn’t... ahhh!”

The edged head scraped his clinging inner wall, pulling out almost to the rim, then slid back in smoothly.

“Say it again. Was it really not?”

“It didn’t—hhngh—feel good, I said...!”

In an instant, Isaac scooped Siron up and laid him down in the middle of the couch, only his upper body hanging awkwardly against the backrest, shoulders and neck buried uncomfortably. Maintaining their position, Isaac gripped behind his knees and lifted his legs toward the couch back, pressing them wide apart.

With his ass lifted into the air, his hole and the cock filling it were bared in plain view for both of them.

Breathing rough, Isaac lowered his hips on display. Siron’s breath came short as he watched the swollen flesh around his hole cave inward, the shaft buried to the root. The hot head pushed through the narrow path, sealing it off, and sank deeper than it ever had, prying into the curved reaches of his gut.

“Ahhh—hahhh!”

Siron rubbed the back of his head into the couch, crying out. No matter how he tried, he couldn’t hold it back. For not admitting what felt good, he was pushed past his limit. His inner muscles spasmed desperately to expel him—but it was useless.

Trapped in Isaac’s arms, their hips pressed so close his balls were flattened against Siron’s ass, the pounding began again.

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