Let the fragment die — open yourself completely and beg Fenris to knot you.

Pan's Underground Chamber, Pandora's Box Costume Shop, at 11:50 PM on a full moon night, approximately 3 years after October 31st, 2024

The fragment dies like a candle flame in a hurricane.

I feel it go — feel the last whisper of Trevor snuffed out beneath the tidal wave of need that crashes through my body. My hips lift off the cushions, my thighs spread impossibly wider, and my pussy opens like a flower desperate for rain. The heat of Fenris's cockhead radiates against my entrance, and every cell in my body screams a single, unified command.

"Knot me," I beg, my voice raw and broken. "Please — I need it, I need your knot inside me, stretch me open and lock yourself in —"

Fenris's muzzle splits into a savage grin. He presses forward — just the head — and my pussy stretches around the blunt crown of his cock with a wet, obscene pop. The girth is staggering. My walls strain to accommodate even this first inch, my lips pulled taut around his shaft, slick gushing out around the seal of flesh.

"Patience, little breeding thing," he growls, his voice a rumbling earthquake that vibrates through his cock and into my stretched walls. His hips hold perfectly still, letting my body adjust to the impossible thickness splitting me open. "You're tight. Tighter than anything I've ever fucked. This little cunt of yours isn't ready for my knot yet."

He pushes another inch inside — slow, relentless, inexorable — and I keen, my back arching, my claws shredding the silk beneath me. His cock is massive, each vein standing out like a ridge against my clenching walls, the heat of him like a brand searing my insides. Pre-cum leaks from his slit in thick pulses, coating my inner walls, making the passage slicker, easier — but still so tight that every fraction of an inch feels like being split in two.

"That's it," Fenris rumbles, pulling back slightly before pushing deeper. A slow, grinding rhythm — never more than half his length, never less than the head, each thrust working another inch into my spasming pussy. "Gotta stretch you out proper before I give you the knot. And I've got all night, little thing. My stamina is legendary."

He's not lying. Each thrust is measured, controlled — a predator savoring his prey. His cock slides deeper with every stroke, my walls forced to yield around his impossible girth, my pussy making wet squelching sounds that echo through the chamber. I can feel every vein, every ridge, every pulse of his heartbeat through his shaft.

From her chair, Pan strokes herself slowly, her amber eyes fixed on the junction of our bodies. "Look at her," she murmurs, her voice thick with arousal. "Taking it so beautifully. You should see how her pussy stretches around you, Fenris — like she was made for this."

"She was," Fenris agrees, hilting halfway — seven inches of knotted werewolf cock buried in my clenching cunt. My belly bulges slightly from the sheer size of him. He holds there, grinding in slow circles, stretching my walls in every direction. "But the knot... that's gonna take some work. This tight little thing needs to be opened up before she can take the full lock."

He begins thrusting in earnest — long, deep strokes that pull nearly all the way out before driving back in, each one pushing slightly deeper, slightly harder. My pussy squelches obscenely with every impact, juices running down my thighs in streams. The fullness is beyond anything I've felt — beyond Pan, beyond Sable — a cock so thick it reshapes my insides, so hot it makes my vision blur.

And through it all, that swollen knot presses against my entrance with each deep thrust — a promise, a threat, an inevitability. Each time it bumps my stretched lips, my pussy clenches desperately, trying to pull it in, my body knowing exactly what it needs even if I'm too full of cock to form coherent words.

"Not yet," Fenris growls, pulling the knot back just as my entrance begins to yield. "You haven't earned it yet, breeding bitch. Beg harder."