Let the fun begin!

Kragor and Tharn's hut stood at the edge of the camp, larger than the others, built of white mudbrick, roofed with thick trunks of ancient trees and giant palm fronds that rustled softly in the warm evening breeze. The interior was a sanctuary of dense shadows and primal smells: tanned beast hides covered the floor, exhaling a warm, animal scent that mingled with the lingering smoke of resin burning in a clay brazier, and above all, the pungent, metallic smell of pent-up male desire, a thick musk that seemed to permeate the very air like an invisible mist. The light of the setting sun filtered in slanting, reddish rays through the cracks in the windows and the half-open door, painting the space with a bloody, viscous glow that made every surface gleam with a damp radiance, as if the entire hut sweated anticipation. The heat was oppressive, a weight that settled on the skin and made it gleam, the silence broken only by the distant crackling of the campfires and the stifled gasps of the two warriors who had just crossed the threshold.

Kragor entered first, his older but still powerful body moving with the confidence of one who knows every inch of his territory, his broad shoulder supporting the inert weight of the captive as if she were a living trophy. Tharn followed, closing the door with a soft thud that sealed off the outside world, leaving only the intimate, heavy space where the air seemed to thicken instantly with his rapid breathing.

They threw the woman onto the central bed—a wide bed of furs piled on a carved wooden frame, smooth and warm from constant use—with a mixture of reverence and restrained brutality. Susan's body fell backward with a dull thud against the furs, her arms outstretched at her sides like an offering, her legs slightly open revealing the absolute vulnerability of her position: the ripped blue jumpsuit hanging in shreds from her shoulders and hips, the white bra displaced leaving her breasts almost completely exposed, the tiny thong sunk between folds that glistened with a treacherous dampness caused by the residual poison.

The two Goraks stood motionless for a moment, gazing at her. The silence between them was thick, charged with a tension that vibrated like a taut string: the shared desire, the implicit hierarchy between master and apprentice, the thrill of knowing they had a whole day to devour her before sharing her with the tribe. Kragor breathed deeply and slowly, his broad chest rising and falling, his golden eyes fixed on the captive's pale curves with an ancient, patient hunger. Tharn panted more urgently, his body trembling slightly with the adrenaline of the hunt, his already hard cock pressing against his leather loincloth, his fangs peeking out in an involuntary grin.

They approached at the same time, like coordinated predators. Kragor's large, calloused hands grasped the blue jumpsuit first, his fingers sinking into the ripped fabric with a dry, satisfying sound, tearing it completely in a slow, deliberate motion that revealed Susan's naked body inch by inch: her full breasts freeing themselves completely, her pink nipples hardening in the warm air, her flat stomach contracting in an **** spasm, the white thong and matching bra the only barriers. Tharn joined in, ripping off the bra with a jerk that made her breasts bounce, leaving faint red marks on her pale skin. The thong was last: Kragor slid it down with an almost tortuous slowness, his fingers deliberately brushing against the smooth mons pubis and the moist folds beneath, feeling the heat emanating from her even in his unconsciousness.

Completely naked, Susan lay exposed in the reddish light of the setting sun, her pale skin glistening with a pearly sheen of sweat, her breasts rising and falling with her deep, steady breaths, her thighs slightly parted revealing her pink, swollen sex, her labia parted just enough to show the wet, glistening interior. The two Goraks knelt on either side of the bed, their hands beginning to explore with restrained eagerness.

Tharn was the first to lean over her breasts. His lips closed around a pink nipple, sucking hard, his extendable tongue coiling around the hardened bud like a live snake, licking and tugging until a low, **** moan escaped Susan's throat. The taste of her skin—salty, sweet, with a lingering hint of fear—made him growl against the soft flesh, his fangs barely grazing the areola without breaking it, his teeth pressing just enough to leave red marks that would glisten tomorrow. His large hands kneaded her other breast, fingers digging deep into the flesh, pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger until it hardened even more, swollen and sensitive.

Kragor, meanwhile, positioned himself between the captive's open thighs. His rough hands caressed the inside of her legs with deliberate slowness, from her knees to her groin, feeling the velvety softness of her pale skin, the slight tremor of muscles still under the effect of the poison. He spread her thighs wider, fully exposing her pink sex, her swollen, glistening labia majora, her clitoris peeping out like a wet pearl. He tilted his head, his broad nose inhaling deeply the sweet, musky scent of her involuntary arousal, and then buried his face between her thighs. His extendable tongue unfurled like a living tentacle, long and thick, licking from her perineum to her clitoris in one slow, deep stroke, savoring the nectar that flowed from her. It was sweet, sweeter than he had expected, with a salty tinge that made him groan with pleasure. The tongue plunged into the canal, stretching beyond human limits, exploring the tight, hot walls, twisting and pressing until another **** moan escaped Susan, her hips barely moving in response.

They stopped at the same time, as if a silent signal had passed between them. They stood beside the bed, the air thick with their heavy breaths, the scent of their own arousal mingling with hers. They undressed with slow, deliberate movements: Kragor first, untying his loincloth with expert fingers, letting the fabric fall to reveal his thick, veiny cock, as long as a forearm, the bulbous head dripping a thick, greenish-white fluid, his heavy testicles hanging low in the heat. Tharn followed, trembling with impatience, his member thinner but equally long, erect and throbbing, his pale green skin glistening with sweat.

Tharn leaned over Susan's beautiful face, cupping it in his large hand, his fingers digging into her soft cheeks and platinum blonde hair. He opened her **** mouth with his thumb, then leaned down to kiss her. His long, extendable tongue plunged deep, beyond its normal depth, reaching her throat in a slow, deliberate invasion, passing thick, hot saliva that tasted of resin and animal desire. He knew that for all human whores it was unpleasant—that strong, metallic, invasive taste—and that excited him even more: knowing that she would awaken with his essence in her mouth, in her throat, marking her from the very first moment, even in her unconsciousness.

Kragor, between her thighs, plunged his head in again. His tongue unfurled once more, devouring the canal with renewed hunger, licking the inner walls, circling her clitoris until Susan's moans became more frequent, faint but unmistakable. It was as if, even with her senses dulled, her body knew she was being violated, that two men were claiming her with their mouths and tongues before they did so with their cocks.

They finally released her, taking a step back to contemplate their work: the pale body glistening with green, human saliva, the breasts marked by hickeys, the open and gleaming sex, the lips of the mouth swollen from the invasive kiss.

Kragor spoke first, his deep, husky voice vibrating in the heavy air.

“I’ll go first.”

He positioned himself between the captive’s sexy thighs, his large hands spreading them wider, aligning the bulbous head of his veiny cock with her wet, tight entrance. Kragor plunged into her with a deliberate cadence at first, each thrust long and deep, designed to feel every inch of the tight, hot channel that enveloped him like a living glove, the inner walls throbbing around his veiny thickness with an involuntary suction that made him grunt softly against the captive’s pale neck.

The sound was obscene and constant: the wet slap of green skin against white, the squelch of her tight cunt accepting the invasion again and again, the soft creaking of skin beneath their bodies as the bed dipped with each impact. His golden eyes, glistening with the sweat that beaded on his scarred forehead, were fixed hypnotically on Susan's breasts: large, full, perfect, swaying with a hypnotic rhythm with each thrust, the pink, hardened nipples swinging in wide circles, the pale flesh trembling like churning milk, red marks from previous hickeys glistening wet in the reddish light of the sunset that filtered through the cracks of the hut.

Susan murmured something unintelligible, a sound somewhere between pain and **** pleasure, her hips moving barely in response.

Kragor laughed softly, a guttural, satisfied sound, and began to **** her forcefully, long, deep thrusts that made the blonde's breasts bounce, the wet sound of flesh against flesh filling the hut. She was so wet, so tight, he thought as he grabbed one of the full breasts and devoured it with his mouth, his fangs brushing against the skin, his tongue wrapping around the nipple until he drew another moan from the **** whore.

That's how all the falls were: even if they said no, even if they fought, their bodies always ended up surrendering, opening up, begging for more.

The blonde's beautiful face moved in small, **** gestures: her lips parted, releasing low, broken moans; her eyebrows furrowed slightly as if even in the fog of poison her body registered the ****; her cheeks flushed with the rising heat; strands of platinum hair clinging to her forehead and moist lips. It was a sight that inflamed him even more: this otherworldly beauty, proud even in her unconsciousness, now reduced to a receptacle for his pleasure.

Suddenly, one of her hands—her right—moved slowly and clumsily, her fingers extending weakly toward his chest as if trying to push him away. The gesture was instinctive, an echo of resistance that made Kragor smile, his fangs bared, a low, satisfied growl vibrating in his throat. Immediately, his large, calloused hands gripped her delicate wrists with brutal ease, pinning them to either side of her blonde head against her warm skin. The position opened her wider: arms outstretched, breasts raised and exposed, her body arched slightly beneath his weight. He quickened the pace then, thrusts faster and wilder, his thick cock almost completely out before plunging back in, slamming against her cervix with each impact. He felt her cunt clench in response, an involuntary spasm that made him gasp with pleasure: the inner walls contracting around his length, sucking in as if her treacherous body wanted to keep him inside.

That's when he saw it.

In her left hand, now immobilized by her head, a golden band gleamed in the reddish light: a wedding ring, simple yet elegant, the metal flashing against her pale skin. Kragor's smile widened, his fangs fully exposed, a predatory gleam in his golden eyes. He knew what it meant. Many falls had led him to this place: a symbol of union in their distant worlds, of a male who had claimed them before. The thought excited him even more: this whore had belonged to another, had opened her legs for another, and now he was fucking her.

Without stopping his thrusts—on the contrary, deepening them until Susan's moans became more frequent—he released one wrist and grabbed the hand holding the ring. His thick fingers encircled it, pulling with deliberate ****. She shook her head, a weak but instinctive movement, murmuring a barely audible "no," her lips trembling, her brows furrowing in **** protest.

Kragor laughed, a deep, cruel sound that reverberated through the hut, causing Tharn—who was watching from the side, stroking his own hardened cock—to join in with a loud, excited laugh.

He released her other wrist for a moment and slapped her cheek gently—not hard, just enough to jolt her, to try to rouse her. "Wake up, whore," he growled, his voice hoarse from the exertion of the thrusts, sweat trickling down his green chest and dripping onto her breasts.

Susan's blue eyes opened for a moment, clouded and dazed by the poison, her pupils dilated, her face flushed and confused. She stared at him, her lips slightly parted and trembling.

Kragor held the ring up before her eyes, his thumb and forefinger intertwined, the gold metal gleaming mockingly.

"You want this?" he asked, his voice low and heavy with cruel undertones, thrusting deeper at the same time so she felt every word in her body. "Did you have a man who fucked you there, in that land you came from? One who put this ring on you and spread your legs?"

She tried to take it with her free hand, her fingers reaching weakly for the ring, a **** and pathetic gesture that only heightened Kragor's arousal.

He swatted her hand away, laughing again.

“Relax, love,” he said, the word “love” dripping with venomous irony, his voice throbbing with pleasure as he quickened his thrusts. “You won’t need it anymore. Tonight, we’ll be your husbands.”

Tharn cackled from the side, moving closer, his cock dripping precum onto Susan’s skin.

Kragor tossed the ring into the fire in the center of the hut. The golden metal flew in a glittering arc before landing among the embers, sizzling instantly, melting slowly into a pool of liquid gold that shone like burnt tears.

He seized Susan’s free wrist again, pinning it down by her head, lifting her body to intertwine his thick, green fingers with her delicate, pale ones in a cruelly mocking gesture: fingers intertwined like lovers, like husband and wife on a wedding night. He looked into her eyes—still clouded, but with a glimmer of growing horror—and leaned in to kiss her.

His mouth closed over hers with possessive ****, his long tongue plunging deep again, invading her throat as he continued his claim with savage thrusts, his heavy body crushing her against their furs, their sweat mingling, the scent of sex and domination filling the hut until the air was unbreathable.