10-31-2017, 12:14 AM
a ghost in the darkness.
There’s a growing need in him, fermenting and spreading like a wild fungus. Plenty of partygoers submit to his needs willingly, spreading themselves and inviting him to pillage their depths. He is a King and he holds power, it is not surprising. There’s only so many doe eyed squealing girls he can take. He wants resistance, he wants to feel his power over them. So when she bumps into him, drunk and not paying attention, he flexes his ability and slips into her heart. Draws out that which she desires most.
The broken man he becomes is unknown to him. He doesn’t know why the stallion's wing that now graces his back is so battered, where the wounds came from. However he gets the word brother and it’s enough to go on. To play his game. The mare isn’t paying attention, her glazed eyes searching the masses. By the time she looks back to him, the white stallion is no more and it is Dahmer gazing unsmilingly back at her. ”Sister.” Dahmer’s voice breathes, dripping in sarcasm. "You desire me?"
There are no other words as “Dahmer” suddenly comes closer to her, starting in what seems like a normal embrace. An embrace that lingers as his muzzle runs gently against her neck, as lips begin to press soft kisses against supple skin. If she tries to pull away, he only tightens his grip. Then suddenly his kisses are frenzied, finding her lips as he pushes her against a tree. His touch becomes more inappropriate, moving lower and further but making sure she can’t get away, trapped between himself and the trees.
Nobody notices, too busy in their own debauchery. Nobody notices when Dahmer forces her face into the brush and explores the most intimate parts of her. The more she protests and fights, the more aroused he becomes. Nobody notices when the broken black stallion mounts her back. Nobody notices when Dahmer covets his sister and claims her as his own. His teeth sink deeply into her back, leaving marks along her flesh as he rocks within her. His grip is tight around her barrel, not caring if he causes her pain. Her resistance had built him up quickly and he does not last long. With a sigh of satisfaction, he finally slips from her. Placing a sharp nip on her rump as he mutters. ”Well worth it dear sister.” Then he slips between the crowd, lost in the masses, fading from the black stallion to the red eyed ghost once more.
The broken man he becomes is unknown to him. He doesn’t know why the stallion's wing that now graces his back is so battered, where the wounds came from. However he gets the word brother and it’s enough to go on. To play his game. The mare isn’t paying attention, her glazed eyes searching the masses. By the time she looks back to him, the white stallion is no more and it is Dahmer gazing unsmilingly back at her. ”Sister.” Dahmer’s voice breathes, dripping in sarcasm. "You desire me?"
There are no other words as “Dahmer” suddenly comes closer to her, starting in what seems like a normal embrace. An embrace that lingers as his muzzle runs gently against her neck, as lips begin to press soft kisses against supple skin. If she tries to pull away, he only tightens his grip. Then suddenly his kisses are frenzied, finding her lips as he pushes her against a tree. His touch becomes more inappropriate, moving lower and further but making sure she can’t get away, trapped between himself and the trees.
Nobody notices, too busy in their own debauchery. Nobody notices when Dahmer forces her face into the brush and explores the most intimate parts of her. The more she protests and fights, the more aroused he becomes. Nobody notices when the broken black stallion mounts her back. Nobody notices when Dahmer covets his sister and claims her as his own. His teeth sink deeply into her back, leaving marks along her flesh as he rocks within her. His grip is tight around her barrel, not caring if he causes her pain. Her resistance had built him up quickly and he does not last long. With a sigh of satisfaction, he finally slips from her. Placing a sharp nip on her rump as he mutters. ”Well worth it dear sister.” Then he slips between the crowd, lost in the masses, fading from the black stallion to the red eyed ghost once more.
Gryffen
@[Scyla]