filthfichunter
filthfichunter
FilthHunter
49 posts
18+ A covy of dead doves đŸ•Šïž. Welcome to my trash blog. Where we are garbage cans, not garbage cannots đŸ—‘ïž Them/They/Theirs, Demisexual
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
Note
Yay!! @monarhoe this was totally one of my anonymous prompts!! Thanks for such a fun and filthy fill!!
How about a young Jaskier seduced out into the woods by the pan pipe playing of a horny satyr that's looking to deep dick a young virgin??? Bonus points if Jaskier agrees to the trust to in-part learn a song/learn to play the god Pan's pipe (spoiler the Pipe is his penis not a musical instrument) enjoy!! Welcome to the fun
Here’s your prompt anon ! Once again it took soooo long, but well it’s finally there !
Jaskier truly have the worse ideas. Well, if he was to rebuke, he would petulantly say that it wasn't his idea. Like everything bad in his life, it was Valdo's fault.
There were a rumor going around campus that there were a god in the forest. A god very interested in virgins. Kinda like unicorns, but reverse. It left alone any others persons. It picked Jakskier's curiosity, at first, but not to the point of going to see.
There were plenty enough to see in Oxenfurt, no need to get lost in a muddy forest. And then, Valdo Marx, the Prick of the Academy, had insinuated than only virgins where afraid of going to the forest alone, and, that himself had crossed it without so much a trouble. While looking Jaskier directly into the eyes.
So obviously, Jaskier couldn't let that go, and loudly announced to his friends that he fancied a stroll in aforementionned forest. Some of his friends had whistled, impressioned, and one had patted him on his back
--
Which was how he found himself in the forest, at dusk. Until his death bed he would swear that he wasn't afraid at all, no, that he absolutely didn't nearly piss himself when a squirrel made some branch moves above his head. No, he didn't.
Still trudging along the path, he started to hear a strange melody. Forgoing the trail, he tried to follow the source of the music, going deeper and deeper into the forest.
« Are you lost, boy? » a  voice boomed, somwhere on his right.
He turned, and there there was a satyr. A man on top, with gigantic horn on his head, and some sort of goat-like's bottom. Most obvious, though, was his cock, standing proud and glistening. It was long, longer than any he had ever seen, even inpublic baths, and slightly curved. A nest of curls was shielding the biggest pairs of ballsack he could imagine. Stunned, Jaskier could only gapes at the man, who shuckled.
« Cat got your tongue ? »
Jaskier managed to squeak a no, but he was unsure if the satyr could hear him. The creature smiled, a sardonic smile which spelled trouble for Jaskier.
« I'm the god of music, Pan. You're lost in my forests, child. Have anything to say for your defense ? » he asked lowly.
« No, sir. »
The man harrumphed, jumped to his feet and approached Jaskier.
« I- I heard a strange music, that's all, » stammered Jaskier, trying to slow down his hammering heart. The man lifted his instrument, clutched into his hand. Jaskier nodded jerkily. « You're interested in learning pipe, boy ? »
A strange glint appeared into his eyes. Jaskier hesitated, but it was a god. How could say no to learning an instrument from a god ? So he nodded.
« And what do you offer ? I don't work for free, after all. »
« What may you want ? I don't have a lot to offer. »
The man licked his lip, and pat his cock. Jaskier's eyes fell onto it.
« Oh. »
« Yes, oh, » said the god with a big smile, showing many teeths, «  You're untouched, aren't you ? I've got the eyes for this sort of things. »
Jaskier went beet red, but nodded. Learning how to play an instrument from a God was worth so much more than his virginity. »
« So we have an agreement, boy ? Your virginity against learning my pipe ? »
Jaskier nodded, no trusting his voice right now.
« Well, what are you waiting for ? On all fours, and take off your clothes if you do not wish to go back home in your birth suit ! »
--
Jaskier cummed for the first time when Pan fingered him. The god started with one fingers, slowly entering him, covered in some slick substance. Jaskier gladly prefered not to know where it came from. The god switched to two fingers, and brushed something in Jaskier which made him gasp. It wasn't pleasure like when he stroke himself, alone in his room, but it soon build to be even better. A warm feeling settled in his stomach, and after a few minutes of Pan stroking the thing, he grew weak i the knees and cum splatted the soil. Jaskier keened, and fell to his shoulders, his arms giving in.
Behind him, the god laughed, and his cock slid along the crack of his ass a few times, before catching into his holes. Jaskier was pushed into the dirt, one hand on his shoulder, his cheek shoved
into the ground with small and painful rocks digging into his skin.
Pan wasn't particulary slow, instead shoving his lenght in one powerful thrust. Jaskier, still sensible from his orgasm, could only moan in half-pain half-pleasure, and the god groaned.
« Knew it you would be so tight, boy, virgins always are. »
He started to make small thrusts, grinding deep into Jaskier, against the small bundle of nerves, making Jaskier gasps each time. A hand sneaked on his cock, stroking him on the same rythm of the pounding. One thrust, one stroke. Another thurst, one stroke.
Jaskier cummed once again after long minutes filled by short pants and dirty words gasped behind him, send over the edge by one sharp smack on his prostate. With the tightening of his ass, thrusting him is harder but so much more pleasurable for Pan, making orgasm pretty quick after him.
His dick sliped out, cum splasing on the ground and Jaskier falling onto it, boneless and senseless from pleasure.
« Now, now, we're far from being finished ! »
Jaskier blinked slugglishly, a still hard cock appearing in front of his eyes. After stuggling to raise to his knees, he tried to put it in his mouth, but the sheer size of it proved it to be quite difficult.
« Lick it if it doesn't fit, don't worry, » Pan chuckled. Jaskier licked, from the tip to the root, sucking the balls into his mouth, one at a time. The god moaned, and it only encouraged Jaskier further. He stroke the shaft with both his hands, still sucking on the balls. He moved on licking patterns on the member, swirling his tongue against the skin and swallowing the tip. The god struck a hand in his hair, forcing his mouth to part for the cock. He still couldn't get very far, but the god forced his head to move, and Jaskier let himself be manhandled, still working his tongue every where he could. Pan didn't let him breathe, and even if he could take some breath with his nose, Jaskier ended light-headed quickly, and Pan finallly cumming was litteraly a god-sent gift. Cum flooded his mouth, and he strangled himself tryng to not swallow any.
« When will you teach me your instrument ? » he asked after long minutes trying to catch his breath.
Pan laughed, a high-spirited joyful thing, and he had a smile in his voice as he said :
« But I just taught you how to blow my pipe, little piper ! I simply didn't specify which one. You're lucky, it's a fine instrument if I ever saw one.»
At that, he sauntered away, his cock swinging between his legs, disapearing quickly from Jaskier's view and leaving him utterly speechless.
He met a music's god and didn't even have anything to show off beside cum leaking from his ass and some still drying on his chin.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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Hello. Could I request some con noncon with perhaps Jaskel? Breeding kink, slut shaming, maybe even some monsterfucking in there. I don't mind who's being "forced" to get fucked, I like either option. Your writing is beautiful btw. - DeadDoveCollector
Thank you for such a lovely prompt (and compliment)! I managed to get everything but the monsterfucking in here.
“Don’t leave the camp. I shouldn’t only be gone a couple of hours,” Eskel tells him before bending down to kiss him goodbye.
“Be careful, love,” Jaskier tells him just to see him flush.
Once Eskel is out of sight, Jaskier goes through his usual chores. He makes sure the fire is going, makes sure their bedrolls are laid out, and even tries to write some music but nothing is working. All he can think about is Eskel and how much he misses him.
That thought leads to dirtier thoughts, and he's in the middle of the woods with no one around. So why shouldn't he have a little fun while he thinks about his mate? It's not like anyone is going to stumble upon him. So Jaskier undresses and sprawls out on top of his bedroll and extra blankets.
He's already worked up, his little prick leaking as he palms it and bites his fingers while he thinks of Eskel. How much he would love to be stuffed with his massive cock, how much he wants his knot, how much he wouldn't mind if he got a little rough while they mated, because that always gets him off quicker than anything.
He can feel his ass getting slick and he starts whining as he reaches down and slowly teases himself, just rubbing his wet rim with a single finger. He tries to stay somewhat quiet, even though he's alone, because theoretically someone else could be out in the woods tonight and Eskel is long gone.
All of a sudden he hears a booming voice call out from the edge of the campsite, "Oh my, what a nice treat I've found. Such a slutty little omega, stinking up the whole forest with your sweet scent." and he didn't realize his eyes were closed, but they fly open and he stills, two fingers deep in his ass and looks around frantically to see who is there.
Someone steps out of the darkness, and this alpha is huge, absolutely huge. He smells so strongly, just dripping with power and lust, and Jaskier knows he's gotten himself in a tight spot here. He grabs a blanket and tries to cover himself up, but the alpha just laughs and stomps over, his scent more overpowering the closer he gets. His face is rough, like he's no stranger to fighting, and Jaskier is trembling as he hides in his blanket.
"My mate is near," he cries out, trying to puff himself up as much as he can. But he knows he is no match for this bulking alpha. Why had Eskel left him here? Will he even want him after he's ruined? Because there is no way he's getting himself out of this one. He pushes thoughts of his mate aside, because he has to be strong to get through this.
As long as he stays alive, he can fix things later.
"What kind of mate would leave such a sweet thing all alone?" the alpha snickers and starts undressing. Jaskier hates himself, but the alpha is attractive and he can't help looking, even as he knows he doesn't want this. He clutches his blanket and watches with wide eyes as the alpha strips and reveals his solid chest, strong thighs, and massive cock hanging hard between his thighs. Jaskier whimpers at the site and a fresh gush of slick slides out of him, much to his embarrassment.
"You alpha must not take good care of you if you're this much of a slut for it. All it takes is the promise of a knot and you're dripping like a little whore, aren't you?"
Jaskier starts rambling, tries to deny it. He's not a slut, his body just has needs and Eskel isn't always around to take care of them. But the alpha doesn't seem to care, just laughs again and gets down to his knees, yanking the blanket off of him. "Don't hide, sweet thing. This will be easier if you just give in, you know that, right?"
"You should go, before he gets back," Jaskier tries one last time, but the large alpha just growls. He hates his body, but the deep growl forces another gush out of him. His cheeks heat up and he tries to look away, but the alpha reaches out and grabs him by the chin, forcing him to look at him. He slides his thumb roughly over Jaskier's mouth before shoving it inside and pressing down on his tongue. Again, his body betrays him, and he lets out a broken moan as he sucks the digit into his mouth.
Jaskier brings his hands up and shoves at his chest, but the alpha is just too big, too powerful to move him. He starts begging, trying to talk his way out of this. "I'm nothing worthwhile. No better than any other omega. I'm too large, too hairy! What if you just left and we forgot about it? No one would have to know. If my mate comes back before you're done...he will kill you."
"I'd like to see him try," he laughs deeply before leaning in to take a deep whiff of Jaskier's neck. He trembles, not used to anyone but Eskel being this close, and he sobs as the alpha licks over the claiming bite on his neck. "Just leave and let me go," he tries one last time, but again his pleas go unanswered.
The alpha starts pawing at him, raking his nails down his chest and stopping to twist and tug on his nipples. Jaskier can't help how his body responds, knows he's slicker than he has any right to be, knows his cock is leaking steadily even though he doesn't want this. Still he hates it and closes his eyes to try and avoid what's happening
"Fuck, you're really needy, aren't you?"
"It's just my body," Jaskier whines, already hating himself. When is Eskel coming back for him? Why is he getting so turned on by this aggressive stranger?
"Don't lie to me," the alpha growls, his voice sending shivers down Jaskier's spine. "I know you want this. Why don't you present for me? Show me how much you want my knot."
"I don't!" Jaskier cries out, but he feels himself getting wetter, even as he protests. The alpha inhales deeply, and he knows he can smell the heavy scent of his arousal. There's no denying that his body wants this. Should he just shut down his mind and get this over with?
The alpha tries a different tactic, reaching behind him to dip his fingers in the slick coating his ass and thighs. He trembles at the touch, wonders why he's being so gentle when he could just push him down and take what he wants. Fingers slip between his cheeks and rough, calloused fingertips - so much like his Eskel's - brush against his hole. He can't help crying out and hides his face in the chest of the alpha.
"That's it," the alpha says, almost sweetly as he circles Jaskier's dripping hole. "We both know your body needs this. You need this. Now why don't you be a sweet little thing and roll over for me. No one has to know."
Jaskier isn't sure what changes things. Maybe it's how empty he suddenly feels, or the way his poor little omega cock is hanging hard and needy between his thighs. But it's like something snaps in him and he decides that yes, this is something he can do. So he nods shyly and then scurries backwards, rolling onto his hands and knees. The alpha laughs sweet and low behind him, and Jaskier shivers at the sound.
"Thought I said present," he growls, and Jaskier whimpers. This is too much. He can't possibly do that. Only he feels so fucking empty, like he'll shrivel up and die if he doesn't get fucked right this instant. He can feel his face heating up as he moves, dropping his shoulders to the grass beneath him and reaching back to spread his cheeks open.
"Such a good little slut," the alpha spits out, already moving to line up. He rubs the head of his massive prick against Jaskier's slicked hole, making him whine as he struggles to keep his face out of the dirt. The alpha takes pity on him and pries his fingers from his cheeks, letting him scramble up to his hands and knees again. "I'll give you what you want, you needy little omega." The alpha grunts as he sinks in, not bothering to give Jaskier any time to get used to his size.
It burns, and Jaskier howls as he's breached, the alpha shoving into him until he bottoms out. But then he smooths a hand down Jaskier's back, cooing over him as he starts to fuck him. It's so different from the precious way his mate treats him, so rough and rushed. Pain quickly turns to pleasure as the alpha picks up his speed, fucking into Jaskier without any thought to his needs.
"Fuck, you're tight," he grunts, his hips slamming roughly into Jaskier. he claws at the grass beneath him, tears streaming down his face as he's brutally used. He feels so fucking full, and he's torn because it feels good but it's also not his mate. He shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he is. Maybe the alpha is right and he is just a slut.
"Please," he whines, pathetic even to his own ears, "It's too much. I can't."
"You can. You're made for it. Little more than just a sheath for alpha knots. It feels so good, doesn't it? Being stuffed like this?" the alpha tells him, and he sobs louder, his whole body shaking as he tries to deny it. Only his cock is so hard, tormenting him from between his thighs, and he knows he's not far from getting off on this stranger's cock.
"No, I...I don't want this," he argues, but the alpha just laughs and digs his fingers into Jaskier's hips, pounding into him. He can feel the telltale bulge of his knot pressing against him with every thrust. He hates himself, but he pushes back, seeking the pleasure he knows only an alpha can give him.
"I said don't lie to me," he chokes out, and Jaskier whines, unable to form words at this point. "We both know how much you love this. Look at how well you're taking me? Gonna take my knot now? Gonna let me pump you so full? Breed you like your useless alpha hasn't done yet?"
"Yes, yes! Please! I...I want it. Please," Jaskier finally breaks, babbling as the alpha shoves his fat knot inside of him. He fucks him roughly, his knot tugging at Jaskier's rim as he slams into him. It's overwhelming and so very very wrong, but Jaskier doesn't care anymore. He's being used - being bred - like his body wants him to.
"That's it, let yourself take what you want. You omegas are all the same, just greedy for a knot. What a good little whore. You gonna come on my knot for me?" the alpha asks, and Jaskier didn't know he was this close, but suddenly he cries out and comes. He coats the dirt under them, clenching down on the alpha's knot as he shoots off untouched.
"Fuck, Jaskier!" the alpha shouts, and Jaskier feels him spill inside of him. He's worn out and crying messy tears, but he does his best to hold his body up as Eskel fills him, pumps him so full of come he knows he'll be dripping for days. Eskel bites down on his shoulder as he rolls his hips and breeds him like the good little bitch that he is.
Jaskier's arms finally give out, but Eskel is quick to roll them gently to their sides. He rocks his hips, tugging gently on the knot that ties them together, and Jaskier whimpers and reaches back to cling to whatever he can reach. He ends up with his fingers wrapped around Eskel's bicep as Eskel pulls him close. He nuzzles Jaskier's cheek, humming happily as he shoots another load inside of him.
"Lost myself a bit at the end," Eskel says, laughing as Jaskier giggles. "Thank you for indulging me."
"Anytime, dear. Though my body says I need a few days to recover," Jaskier says, sighing as he sinks back into his alpha. They have plenty of time to lay here while Eskel's knot goes down, and he looks forward to the pampering that will come afterwards.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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LOL!!!
Tagged by @piceuscelus
Now *I* am craving potato soup!! Cheesy-Potato-Soup!!! đŸ„Ł
Hmmm I don't know that I have 9 to tag, but...
--
Last SongđŸŽ¶: Catch My Disease by Ben Lee
Currently Reading📚: listening to Debt the First 5000 Years (trying to get some nonfiction non smut into my reading log for varieties sake).
Currently Watching👀: binge watching the first two seasons of Hannibal (again) before it disappears from Netflix
Currently Craving: beyond the new craving for đŸ„”đŸ„Ł??? I am craving a legit soak in some hotsprings?? I might have to go hit the saunas soon!. Gah my bones are tired!! đŸ˜«
catch up game
Tag 9 people you want to know better/catch up with.
Tagged by @misterstalker
Last Song: Peaches, In the Valley Below
Currently reading: technically The Last Wish, in reality nothing because my brain is a fuck
Currently watching: nothing actively, still need to finish Bly Manor tho
Currently craving: potato soup, weirdly.
uhhhhhh idk if i can think of 9 people lets see  @buttercupkinks @afterhoursfic @keys-to-the-kinkdom @darkbard @deaddovedonotyeet @stuffthatbard @little-red-riding-doublet @witchertrashparty @filthfichunter
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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So I've got three delightful prompts to fill, and then will take a tiny internet free hiatus (yay for IRL adventuring) Should I leave my Asks open??
I'm always delighted when someone drops a prompt, but do prompts like ferment? 😆 If I leave them to sit for a bit I wouldn't want to be disappointed to find them all moldering, sentient, and feral for having been neglected.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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Woe is you @oldandkinky, but Yay 😁 is us!!
Whyyyy do I do this to myself?
I'm writing two parts of Honey that have WILDLY different tones, and it's giving me whiplash. But I had the idea for a scene from that second one and couldn't not write it. Woe is me.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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Welcome!!!! Ohhh!! I'm totally following along, I like leaving 'welcone to the Witcher DeadDoveDoNotEat neighborhood fruit baskets' ... When the fruit basket is a porn-y prompt curated from your top fav kinks! 😜
Hello! I’m Dovey!
This is a new Witcher dead dove blog. Will write and reblog Witcher dd. Feel free to send prompts (anon welcome), questions, statements, etc.
Will soon be posting a faq including what I will/might/won’t write.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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😘 Lovely!!! If anyone has any prompts burning a hole in their pockets send them to @sinqueen69 Psst! I've always liked your Teen Wolf content and can't wait to read your Witcher fics!
I know its not on ur list but would you write abt the Witcher?
Only jaskier with the witchers but yes! I did have it on my list but no one seemed too interested in sending me prompts for them so I took it off lol
So in other words: Jaskier/Geralt/Eskel/Lambert/Vesemir
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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Dont you DARE apologize, It's AWESOME I"m 100% down with mages making toys out of boys. *stalks the AO3* You did so much more with that prompt than I ever imagined!
Thank you Anon!! I never really know if I've created something fun and legible along with being fun and filthy! Thanks for the feedback â˜ș
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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A/B/O plus lots
There's a brief brief space of time between the Trials and when an Omega Witcher is fully sterile that omega Witchers can be bred. So, they get bred and knotted by every Alpha they can be. If they're lucky, they'll have a pup with a higher chance to survive the trials, or maybe even a full blooded Witcher pup.
Lucky for them, they're easy easy easy to trigger into heat and spend nearly the whole time in the throes of heat. Maybe up to two years, so two pups, if they're very very lucky
Alphas are always fertile, but only with their own "kind" which is omega Witchers but there's only that tiny gap to breed.
Ruts and heats still happen but they're not seeding fertile ground anymore.
Trial age is up to you, just wreck me some witcher boys. Breeding benches, Stuffed full, plugged up, fucked over and over and over. Screaming on massive cocks and knots and begging for more.
I tried to hit all the elements of the prompt Anon!! Plenty of A/B/O, breeding benches, and fucking 😉
You can find the full fic here on my AO3
Kaer Morhen's Puppy Mill
CW: Gangbang, Breeding, Overstimulation, Come Inflation, Boypussy, Alpha/Beta/Omega, Dubious Consent, Pregnancy Kink, Size Kink, Size Difference, Bondage, Hole/Pussy Spanking, Loss of Virginity, First Time, Knotting, Butt Plugs, Oral Sex, Frottage...like I fit the full kitchen sink in there. Marked as Underage, but no specific age is given. đŸ•ŠïžđŸ’€ DeadDoveDoNotEat đŸ’€đŸ•Šïž
Let me know if you have a favorite line!!
Geralt came back to alertness when the knot locked behind the puffy lips of his tired cunt tried to pull free, still half full. His skinny thighs were shaking with the effort of holding himself up, even proped up as he was on the breeding bench. The Alpha just kept tugging free no matter how he whimpered around clentched teeth and asked for the other man to, "wait, please! Please!"
The knot pulled free with a sucking plop, the girthy cock slapping sloppily across pale pert cheeks, accompaning Geralt's keening wail.
There were similar noises from all around him as the few other Witcher initiates, young like him, omega like him, yet to face their first trials like him, were fucked and seeded.
None of them had taken a knot before, they'd been treated just the same as their Alpha and Beta fellow trainees until they had entered their breeding season.
Training and running and learning together, all things equal. He hadn't been concerned about things like kissing, or sex, or breeding.
That had changed when the Sorcerers came to prepare them for the season. Geralt and his fellow Omega's had been pulled from their regular lessons and made to sit through the most embarrassing workshops to get ready for their duty.
There were diagrams, playmating and the dissected reproductive system of what Geralt though must be a pig, but that Eskel had insisted was human.
It had taken almost a full fortnite for him to work up to wearing the medium sized plug. Eskel had been his heat week partner, both boys taking turns working through the stretches and calisthenics that were supposed to prepare them for their duty.
They'd shared sweet kisses as they frot against each other in their shared bunk, whispering about the Alaphs that had suddenly started trickling back in to Kaer Morhen early. Who they thought might sire a strong new brother for them. Who to avoid.
The potions they were injected with caused a fire to rise in their blood. They had to constantly help each other to alleviate the swelling. Horny pups, mouthing and licking, curled up together whenever they got the chance. Their bed sheets were starched stiff with their watery spend within the first few days.
The Sorcerers had staged a dress rehearsal for their breeding after they finished their special class. Calling it a dress rehearsal was generous since they'd all been naked for it. One by one with each Omega getting a turn they had been strapped bare onto a bench to get the fitting of their bindings correct, Eskel had held his hand the entire time. He hadn't pinched his butt, or rudely stuck a finger in him like some of the others had.
He could see across to where his brother Eskel was dwarfed by the largest man he'd ever seen, a Bear Witcher, visiting the keep for the two week peak each season that omega Witcherlings (that still might be able to fall pregnant) were benched, and fucked by any Witcher able to spare the time to properly bitch them.
The bear's knot must be absolutely huge, Geralt hoped if both he and Eskel did quicken with pups that they wouldn't have to carry such a large man's cub.
It would be a big cub as hairy as it's sire, more beast than man in size and bulk.
The potions they would take later in their training would render their wombs too toxic for a full breed Witcher pup to survive, for much of anything of humankind like themselves to survive gestation.
Other things would grow within his womb, but after his trials those things would only be the stuff of nightmares, a distant duty he wasn't prepared to think about yet.
He only had this small chance to fall pregnant with his own kind. To see them grow up alongside the other fosters and orphans of Kaer Morhen.
All be it with a better chance of survival.
Omega Witcherlings were rare, successful breedings of their young little wombs was rarer still, but the dwindling numbers in their ranks meant that the Brotherhood of Sorcerers needed to swell their pool of potential Witcher candidates any way they could.
Successful Witcher/Witcher full bred pups were, baring a physical injury, almost completely likely to survive their trials and transition into becoming a Witcher. Fewer changes were required of their bodies, immunity to the toxicity of the pure mutagens gifted to them by their Witcher bitch and sires.
He still had a full day and night left to get pupped with a new litter for his first cycle, and knew that even as full and tired and aching as his pussy and little omega cocklet were, there were still at least a dozen more knots in his immediate future.
Including the large bear Witcher.
Geralt hiccuped and tried to clench his tired muscles down, but both his holes quivered and stayed open.
His pussy was over full with the loads he had already taken.
His little ass didn't escape attention, fucked full with a regular deposit of nututrient rich magical slurries, pumped and plugged by those assisting in the breeding. Mostly that consisted of Omegas too far along in their training with wombs too poisonous to carry, or Betas curious or mean, intent on injecting themselves into helping out.
Every Alpha would have their turn to try. Their mutagen Alpha seed only able to catch in another Witcher, totally sterile in any other womb. The price they paid for their augmented mutant abilities.
He didn't like the potions.
They smelled earthy and dank, and no two large syringes of the stuff ever looked the same to him. His guts would cramp for an entire hour after each dose. But the mixture was a reliable way to hydrate the omegas, keep their bodies in a state of fertile heat, and it solved the problem of trying to feed their passed out bodies. They would stay bound to the breeding apparatus in the great hall untill they were pregnant, or the cycle ended.
The room felt like it was spinning, but the sudden clank and jolt was just the special hinge on the bench engaging, tilting the platform he was on forward and down. All he could see now was the floor immediately infront of him, and what little he could glimpse from his peripheral vision, bound tight as he was.
Mostly it was flashes of movement he caught, muscular buttocks flexing and thrusting against wailing writhing omegas, tender bellies being pet and coaxed to hold a little more. There were a few other omegas in the 'resting' position like him too, their little pussies and cocklets pulsing and quivering in the open air, Witcher seed drawn down into their heat ready fertile wombs.
Blood started rushing to his head as his weight was shifted against the straps holding him. Head shoulders and torso flipped forward nearly upside down. His hips and more importantly his womb would stay elevated to ensure the newest deposit of seed could have it's best chance of quickening in the depths of his womb. Gravity helping things along.
It was the only break he would get between knots. Once he was assessed by his current stud and his platform tilted back into the 'free use' position he would be back in service.
"Please, can I have a drink, please, just a small sip?” the boy whispered, voice breathy mouth dry after having spent the morning crying and moaning. The Witcher behind him, he didn't even know who had just come in him, fucked and knotted him, only seemed half interested in what he had to say.
"I-I just need water?" Geralt sounded scared and timid to his own ears, and he knew with their superior hearing that every Witcher in the room heard his childish pleading.
The hydrating suppository in his ass was no replacement for a cool sip of water on parched lips.
The last time he had made the request an older Omega had mounted his face, their cock had been like his own, small, only a mouthful, but it hasn't been what he needed. He had ended up with a cummy salty mouth and not the crisp refreshment he wanted.
He was ignored. The Alpha already surveying the other available omegas for his next fuck.
Geralt's red-rimmed puffy hole opened up a little bit, a small gurggling glug of white seed oozing out.
"Tighten up that loose hole, slut!” the man said spanking one of Geralt's quivering thighs with a sharp hit, eliciting a cry.
"Yes sir!" Geralt was mortified at his own squeak, but the sudden scare and flare of pain helped him tighten back up again, his head flopping back down against the platform, cheeks blotchy from the rebuke and the inversion.
Another quick series of spanks across his butt, caused him to tense up even more, his pert ass jiggling as each blow landed, pinking up his skin.
Geralt nodded quickly again, or at least tried to. “P-Please, I'll be good” he sniffled, knowing the faster there was another load in him, the faster this would be over. It’s not like he didn’t like being bred. But sometimes the men who fucked him were rough and Geralt so desperately wanted to be good. Well to be good, and to have something other than a cock in his mouth.
“Please Alpha, I feel so full...”
“Not nearly full enough little bitch,” a new voice growled, leaning down over him. He knew they could see everything with how he was bound, even his little belly, it's soft swelling a visual testament to how many loads had already been fucked into his pliant small body.
The new Alpha extended one finger, scooping up the wasted drop of cum that had slipped out of the little omega earlier and brought it back up to rub over the quivering muscle of his rim. Geralt yelled, pulling against his restraints with real desperation, “No! No, no, no! I can’t hold it in, please no!"
He thought the man would listen to him, would stop playing with his pussy, he was wrong. The rubbing became more insistent against the flushed oversensitive fluttering muscle.
Geralt wailed again, his lithe sweat slicked body wrecked with shivers, overstimulated, his little cocklet stiffening up against his will as he desperately tried to keep all of the virile seed inside.
He didn't want to be punished for losing any, not again.
Three broad fingers were plunged into his mouth, stretching his lips at the corners, stealing the moisture that was left, chaffing his tongue.
Three broad spit slick fingers thwapped down in quick heavy succession, three, four, then five times on Geralt's quivering hole.
The omega cried.
The Alpha Witcher smirked down at where fat tears were running down the pup's face.
"Don't you want to have your soft little belly full? Don't you want to be good for us, behave and you'll have a new little brother to play with."
"Yes, Alpha, please."
The boy's face was cherry red, all the blood having rushed to his head, out of sorts and overwhelmed from the heavy spanks to such a sensitive spot. The tears running down the pup’s face, were soaking his hairline, snot and tears and drool matting it, the poor little thing, but his little omega cocklet was still hard and he still wasn't trying to wriggle in his bondage.
"Such a sluty messy little puppy."
The Witcher considered playing with the boy there, tugging on his little cocklet and squeezing his balls until the boy begged for him to stop, or he got him to climax.
But that wasn't what this breeding was for.
Geralt hid his teary face down onto the platform as he felt it being tilted back and locked into position. He spread his knobby knees wider, light headed after having been upside down, ready to get filled again.
Wishing his rest had been longer between knots.
Still thirsty.
Across the way he could saw where Eskel was still knotted with the big Bear Witcher. From where he was Geralt could see where the other Witcher was punch fucking the full width of his still full knot into and out of Eskel's ruined pussy, all the packed up come being churned out of his belly, puddling on the floor beneath the bench.
Strong hands massaged his slick thighs evidence that Geralt hadn't been lucky earlier either in keeping all of the Witcher seed inside. "When I'm done, I'll fit you with a nice long plug pup, we'll make sure you don't spill a drop, does that sound good?"
The boy gave a wordless shrug of acceptance, what he wanted didn't really matter, but at least a plug would make keeping it all in easier for him.
Everything around him was heat and friction and fullness. He could hear the other omega's begging and moaning around him as his latest stud hilted deep into his over full pussy.
Was that Eskel moaning in pleasure?
This cock was maybe larger than the last, long enough that it was pummeling the walls of his insides. Occasionally it would hit his pleasure button inside and that was almost worse than the stretch of a knot pulled out too soon.
After a grueling series of rabbit fast thrusts, Geralt let out another yelp and tried to clentch down, tried to be tighter, to make the man come quicker so he could have a rest.
"Such a slut, that's right fuck your little cunt back onto my dick you greedy little thing."
Geral was rewarded eventually with a knot, and soft petting from the Witcher. Large hands moved down to cup his swollen abdomen, the skin heating up more, distending more from the newest load.
"Do you want to come bitchling? Should I rub your little cocklet for you?"
The omega shook his head, fingers clentching into fists where they were bound. "It hurts, I just want to rest, Alpha, Please, Alpha."
"You can rest once you catch. Do you think you are nice and pupped this time?'
"Yes Alpha"
"Good cub, the sorcerers will check you in an exam tonight, stretch your little pussy out with their magical tools and speculums and look up inside that cum dump of yours to see if you've been good."
The Witcher pushed down against the sloshing give of Geralt's belly, slipping a hand underneath where he rested against the bench to tweak a soft pink nipple.
"If you haven't caught, we'll just do this again and again, we'll keep you bound and stuffed here for the season, can't let your little womb lay fallow and empty pup!"
Geralt shook his head snuffling back new tears.
He could feel it all throughout his body when the large Witcher hummed, pleased, thrusting and tugging at Geralt's rim with his knot.
"Good bitch.”
đŸ•ŠïžđŸ’€
----
Thanks for reading! And thanks for the prompt!
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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Filthy Musings 1:
CW: Cum, Spartans, Generational Trauma/Training, Hemi Penises, so spunky.
The reason that Geralt survived the second round of mutagens is totally because of all the cock/cum he was in contact with... Like maybe there is a correlation between the initiates that survived and the amount of Witcher cock they were gobbling down, low consistent doses of the mutagens from saliva/blood/cum, leading to a higher survival rate.
Teenage pseudo rebellious Geralt as an enthusiastic cum dump for any and all takers, (maybe snowballing his prizes with Eskel).
Like the pre-trial of the grasses when the wolf students have decided they want to be Witchers, but haven't been introduced with concentrated potions/elixers yet.
They are already a feral pack of young boys, taught and conditioned like Spartan children, Geralt doesn't own a pair of shoes until he's 20 (barefoot from the time he was delivered through the gates to his new home), shares a cloak bundled up with Eskel in a puppy pile to keep warm through their early teens (they all run around naked, the biting wind and elements desensitizing and conditioning them making them tough).
Young initiates are encouraged to forage and steal their own foods, only given enough to keep them alive, always punished when caught to teach them to be stealthier.
After they've made The Choice to train to be Witchers they eat lichen and mushrooms and strange poisonous flora/fauna in preperation for their first trial, still humans playing at training for something more. Some get sick, some die.
None of the older actual Witchers bother to learn their names, some of the pups don't even have names untill they've at least survived the Trial of Dream, soon to be Witchers themselves. There's no reason to learn the names of so many who'll never survive.
Geralt learns to be stealthy, sneaking into private rooms and store rooms, trading his mouth and ass for favors, treats, and training that will make him more likely to survive.
The first time he experiences a lemon, it's mixed with the aftertaste of the visiting Viper Witcher, who caught him out in his room, rifling through the man's saddle bags. He isn't turned in, only has to face the Viper's private punishment. Is never quite sure if the dual hemi penis cocks he'd sucked had been that tart, or if it was the small juice-y bright sections of the fruit he'd been hand fed, head resting on a leather clad thigh, small morsels slipped into his greedy mouth in-between switching between each cock, warming one with his mouth, and then switching to the other each time he was given another section, sucking the sour juice from large rough fingers, licking and biting at bitter pith not wanting to miss a single part of his prize.
The smell of rough leather and lemons together still brings the sense memory of that time back to him, an instant Pavlovian erection anytime he experiences the combination, the Viper long dead, that first taste decades removed.
Geralt doesn't notice, but after he's filled his belly with tart fruit and spunk some of the poisonous swamp snakes he and the other initiates hunt and eat effect him less. An added perk from all of the cum that had been packed into his body, the mutagens making small subtle changes.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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@piceuscelus, making Wreking Ciri in ever new and inventive ways an art form of filth and function! Beautiful. Reading this pushed me to finish my own #WreckCiri fic!!
this is what happens when i get an idea that boils down to “iron maiden, but make it kinky and non-lethal”
you can also read this on ao3!
ciri misbehaves, so geralt has to punish her.
Keep reading
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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The last part of chapter 3, it wouldn't fit in the original post, no matter how much I tried to jam it in there đŸ˜‰đŸ’€đŸ•Šïž
... Continued...
Her own pulse is rabbit quick and fluttering as she tries to deal with the sensations. Her bruised tissues throb as the Swallow heals the hurt.
Geralt smiles gently at her and she is proud to have pleased him.
She only has a moment to see his golden eyes glint, and that smile turn into a much more lusty smirk as he slaps his hand down hard and quick, spanking her pussy.
Ciri cums again and again, milking Eskel's cock where it's fucking hard up into her insides.
With her head hanging down and her body being jostled up and down she can see where the usual gentle pout of her belly is tender and turning red, bruised and pummeled from the inside by Eskel's cock.
The tip of him visible to the far right side of her tender belly, his thrusts deep up into the winding curve of her guts, her body cored out and making space for where he has distended her flesh, ringing the bell on her belly button piercing each time he claps his hips against her ass.
Cock visible with each thrust.
Geralt stops spanking her pussy and instead moves to kneel between her splayed thighs.
He held the girl’s hips, and together with his fellow Witcher, moved her body up and down the cock, like a living sword into it's sheath.
Tirelessly Eskel fucks into the tightest hole he's ever had the pleasure to be in.
Geralt splayed his hand out against her belly, pushing deep down into her, palpating her lower belly, he was just able to get the tips of his fingers around Eskel where he was still thrusting tirelessly, playfully jacking him off.
"Fuck Geralt, fuck! Stop that shit or you are going to ruin my turn, fuck!"
A last quick slap down into Ciri's belly, caused Eskel to loose his pace, but Geralt stopped teasing his brother in favor of teasing his little cub instead.
He couldn’t really help himself, even if he had wanted to. That close, he had a clear view and scent of that sweet hairless cunt, still so-soft and so tiny, even with as swollen and tender as it looked. Ciri's clit looked so vulnerable and exposed. Wet slick excitement coating her coltish thighs.
"Such a sweet little cunt, cub, you don't mind if I have a little lick, do you? You've made a mess, fuck!"
He buried his head between her thighs, hooked her long thin legs up over his shoulders and gorged himself on her scent and her slick. His tongue lashing out and making his young ward jerk and squeal.
Geralt followed the flow of that wetness to it's source. Thrusting his tongue and then a finger up into her pussy. Sucking more free, his nose mashing her sensitive clit flat against her pubic bone.
Ducking down lower under her Geral was able to follow the seam of her perineum back to where Eskel's cock had her rim stretched so wide. The Swallow had done it's job, healing and lending an elasticity that made the extreme penetration possible.
The dark hairy bush and big balls slapping up into Ciri would have been comical if it wasn't the hottest thing he'd seen in the last five years.
He found himself eager to play with the bared cunt. Ready to have his turn fucking her.
"Think I could get my cock in that hungry hole of her's?"
"Didn't the Old Wolf say not to break this one Geralt? fuck, I don't know, maybe you could get the tip inside?"
If Ciri heard their exchange she didn't respond, whimpering and crying too lost in all of the sensations that she couldn't tell what she wanted anymore, let alone voice any objection to the plan.
Eskel slowed and stopped his thrusting, grinding slowly up into Ciri, giving her tired body a rest, "Give her another, get her relaxed and see what'll fit" he stilled completely buried to the hilt in Ciri's ass.
Geralt renewed his own assult, getting two finger banging in and out making a 'come hither' gesture against the front wall of Ciri's vagina, sucking and nipping at the root of her clit untill she clutched his head, white hair thread through her fingers as she pulled, wailing and howling like the wolf cub they called her, orgasm hitting her hard as she squirted and clentched down around three of Geralt's fingers and the cock in her ass.
They both whisper to her as she comes back down from the almost painful pleasure they'd inflicted. Eskel's voice rough in her ear as he told her about how the other Witchers wanted to be hers too.
About Lambert who had wanted her since she first started parading her sluty pointy little tits around Kaer Morhen in her training vest, how he'd cupped his cock any time she swung her hips sashaying out of a room trying to tease them all.
About the oldest of their number, how even Vesemir had said that he'd like to put her on her knees, use her plush little mouth.
Geralt told her about the raging case of blue balls she had given her friend Jaskier, with her questions and teasing as they'd traveled together. He was a famous bard! And Geralt said he wanted her too!
"Would you like that?" Geralt panted pressing his erection against the tight opening of her cunt.
"You'd like that, being the center of attention, everyone watching your lewd little body. Those big, adult cocks seeding your tight little holes."
What she wants, is to scream, she's too full, as Geralt starts his unstoppable press into her cunt all she can do is moan, moaning in denial, moaning in agreement, she doesn't know what to think.
"Fuck you are tight!"
She is squeezed between their adult bulk, Eskel holding still and thumbing at her nipples again trying to distract her, "It's not just that she is tight, it's that she's still so small, you aren't going to be able fit much more in, for fucks sake, give her another hit of fisstech and let me feed her some Swallow."
Geralt makes tiny thrusts, just the tip inside her overstuffed body. They can both feel where they are pressed up against each other inside her, the thin wall between them, Geralt thrusts a little bit deeper.
It's a blur of too much sensation for Ciri.
Again she feels the burn and pinch when Geralt ignores Eskel and keeps pushing forward, more than the tip thrusting inside.
Can feel Eskel pull out a couple inches from her ass, a little pressuring easing as he keeps scooping up the churned up mixture of slick, sweat, and Swallow, feeding it to her.
Geralt doesn't stop until he reaches her limit, the tip of his cock pressed snug against her cervix, inches of his cock still outside when she feels down between her legs trying to see how much more is left to go, trying to see if they'll be done with her lesson soon.
Pain and pleasure both sizzle up her spine, and she wails again, tears clouding her eyes. The relief of the Swallow tipping her back into pleasure as both men start rocking her between them.
This was always going to happen, she realizes.
They were always meant to end up with her like this, it's destiny.
She sobs, clentching her eyes closed and lets it happen.
They fuck her. When Eskel final cums Geralt pushes him away from her tired of only getting to fuck part way into Ciri. Vexed at her bodies limitations he hammers into her ass, fucking her hard, it feels like a punishment, it feels like a reward.
Eskel stays hard, eventually feeding her his cock, letting her get more relief as she kitten licked more of the remaining Swallow from his erection.
When he comes again this time down her throat, she is relieved, her throat welcoming his spend, a balm that soothes where she is sore from her screaming.
She may be a Child of Destiny but her body is still small, she's still human and they don't give her any break. Keeping at her until they've each had a taste of all of her holes.
Morning comes.
They help her back into her long split tunic, it sticks to everywhere she is still coated in their semen turning translucent with their combined spunk.
They lace her back into her leather training vest, her chaffed nipples zing with sensation, but for the first time in weeks the sensation doesn't build behind her belly button in her core, she is spent, and couldn't come again if she tried.
She knows she can't come again. Both Geralt and Eskel had tried, giving up when it led to tears.
They lead her back into the dining hall where everyone has gathered to break their fasts. She is left on the bench between them, her bruised ass and swollen cunny throbbing against the hard cold wooden seat.
The conversation kicks up around her and the training she has spent a life time learning kicks in. She cries silently as she makes conversation with her table mates, every inch the princess, every inch Geralt's Child of Suprise. She meets the eyes of each man at the table and is pleased to find all of them paying attention to her.
Her voice is perfectly strong and commanding when she finally does speak smiling, "Thank you for my lesson"
She's where she's always wanted to be, at the center of attention.
Fuck yeah I finished my #Wreck Ciri story! How a drabble became 13k đŸ˜¶ IDK.
Find the full thing posted on my AO3 here: Everytime a Bell Rings a Witcher Gets His....
Deadest of dead doves! đŸ•ŠïžđŸ’€
Ciri finally gets the full attention of the Witchers she has claimed as her own. Training her holes to accomplish the task is a whole other problem. Or, Eskel and Geralt (but especially Eskel) are hung, and Ciri isn't so much extra tight, as she is extra small, this poses a problem.
You don't actually need to have read the first two chapters for this one to make sense. PWP Shameless Filth!
Notes:
Some uniformed, non-consented potion and drug use in this chapter along with: Size difference, age difference, power imbalance, tit slapping, nipple play, mean cunnilingus, slut shaming, over stimulation, and everything from the first two chapter warnings revisited!!
Chapter 3 under the cut I had to split it up into two parts here on Tumblr because of word limits.
There is a growing puddle of slick on the floor beneath where Ciri's milky smooth thighs are being braced open, hooked over a broad equally naked pair of thick legs. Her toes are captured in the sweaty humid bend of the dark haired Witchers knees forcing her pelvis to tilt even more, putting more strain on her hips from the stretch.
She doesn't even remember seeing Eskel take off his clothes, can't accurately recall how long it's been since dinner.
Her nanny back in Cintra would always use flower analogies when talking around the reality of Ciri's little quim. "Don't let anyone touch your blossom Ciri" "No one appreciates bruised petals" "A loose bloom loses its value quickest, best to allow things to flower in their own time..." Actually come to think of it the last one might have actually been about flowers.
Sometimes you just had to call a cunt a cunt.
In any case if the velvety soft dripping petals of her quim were to be compared to any sort of flower right in this moment Ciri would be hard pressed to decide if her pussy is more similar to a sunflower, or a truly lurid looking orchid.
Someone, she's not sure who, strokes through the bald cleft between her sensitive petals...
A sunflower she decides.
Geralt moves to pull a couple vials from the ruck sack at the base of the platform and shucks his own clothes stuffing them in the pack alongside his brother's discarded set, joining Eskel and Ciri in their nudity.
Ciri decides Geral must be the sun. Bright hair a contrast to Eskel's dark. 
"Sun's and moon's and starbursts Geralt!"
They've only just begun her lesson and already Ciri's lust blown mind has decided Geralt is the sun. Her destiny's path lit bright. It's the only explanation for how her sunflower of a cunny is eagerly following his position around the training room, pelvis gyrating and wiggling belly quivering.
"Geralt!"
The bell charm pierced through her bellybutton is loud over the sound of her whimpering and pleading.
She can already feel where her eager slick has also soaked the places where she and Eskel are pressed together. The whorls of the hair on his upper thighs matted from her girl juice and the sweat that's gathering, glistening everywhere their bodies touch.
The sensation tickles and she can't stop herself from mewling and giggling like a lioness or maybe like a hyena in heat when Geralt finally steps back up close between her splayed legs.
She's not sure which.
She keeps giggling, her back arching even more so that she has the meat of her ass pushed back against Eskel's crotch and her tits eagerly offered up toward Geralt's smirking shining mouth.
"I thought we agreed only enough of the Tawny Owl draught to get her endurance up, whatever you put in her goblet has her flying" One of Eskel's broad rough hands cups her swollen folds as he talks, "Fuck but you are so sweet cub," he murmurs, parting her folds and getting his thumb and forefinger squeezed down around her clitoral hood, teasing her engorged clit out, and then roughly jacking it off like it's a tiny cock.
The electric feeling is building up behind her belly button, "not a lion cub anymore, I'm a wolf cub! Geralt! Ughtt" 
Ciri decides she needs to make certain the Witchers she is claiming know who and what she is, Ugh Awrooo!" Her abortive howl transforms into a baser grunt when Eskel slides a single finger into her, testing the stretch and give of her pussy.
"Shhh, girl,” Eskel whispers in her ear, nipping at the back of her neck even as he adds another finger into her, beginning to spread them, stretching her in preparation for something much bigger.
Ciri finally does let loose a keening howl as his fingers find a spot inside of her that makes sparks explode somewhere deep within her. She has to close her eyes when light blooms around where Geralt is outlined by firelight in front of her. 
She feels so empty, she feels too full already.
They've only just started.
As Eskel continues to stretch her tight opening Geralt is slicking up his hand, an unstoppered vial of Swallow coating and pooling in his palm. 
Geral squishes his chest into her face, hugging her body between himself and Eskel as he reaches down around behind her. Ciri can feel his hard cock, feel his nipples rub against her. 
Geralt's full tits are bigger than hers.
Ciri squeal and rocks forward away from where Geralt has dripped some of the cold Swallow down her back further onto Eskel's fingers inside of her. The liquid easily floods down the valley of her spine further adding to the slick where she sits splayed across Eskel's thighs. 
Everything between her legs is so much better.
It's all heat and darkness she can't see back behind her where the warm wet sound must mean the two men are kissing? With how wet everything sounds it's more than that. The  Swallow is slick, the ingredients that make it a potent potion providing a frictionless warming glide in the gap between Ciri's back and Eskel's front. Her two Witcher's are preparing for her. 
A third finger teases at her front entrance. And Ciri rocks forward chasing more sensation.
Even with as broad as his palms are when Geralt lubes up Eskel's cock he's reminded again at just how large his brother's cock is, "Fuck, going to have to get her wetter, stretch her more." 
Pulling away from the clinch, Geralt gives one last squeeze around Eskel's cock. Choking it from the root, up the shaft around where it's thickest in the center and twisting his wrist back around the glands and bulbus mushroom tip, making certain slick is applied completely. It wouldn't do to break his Child Suprise this first time.
The properties of the Swallow mean the veins are even larger and more pronounced down the imposing length, blood flow increasing as the healing herbs work through thin flesh.
He loves the off brand uses for Witcher potions and signs.
Ciri grinds forward onto the fingers, back against the slick hard heat.
Her insides twinge and she whimpers when the big fingers deep inside of her bump up against a bright pinching spot of pain.
"Melitele's tits but she is shallow,  doubt either of us could get more than the tip in here, change of plans, Geralt get the fisstech" 
Geralt taps out a fine line of white powder onto a scared and gnarled finger, balancing the drugs from the tip all the way up to his first knuckle. Runs the mess up under Ciri's top lip, along her gum line.
The flavor of the potion lingering on his skin, along with a taste that must be all Eskel.
Geralt plays the pads of two fingers further back into her mouth, petting her tongue. She tastes the unmistakable flavor and tingle of Swallow working and something new that tastes like a scraped knee feels, full of earthy gravel and strobing sensation. 
That must be the fisstech.
Geralt had coated Eskel's penis in Swallow, and he had coated her gums with fisstech.
"Swallow, swallowing, swallows, am I a bird now Geralt? Am I a swallow, swallow you whole" She squeals again when Eskel meanly pinches her clit, telling her, "Swollen more like it"
Geralt dipped his saliva slick finger back into the envelope of fisstech, then joined it with the other two Eskel already had inside of her.
The fisstech is gritty and coarse until it dissolves, friction and her wet slick breaking it down into a paste as it's all worked deep into her pussy.
The same strobing strong fussing sensation overtakes her again. This time radiating out from where she is so swollen, the ache in her core almost disappears, if it hurts she doesn't mind it anymore.
Ciri is over whelmed and nearly at her peak again squeezing down on the fingers inside of her, climaxing inspite of, or maybe because of that bite of pain.
She loses track of fingers, feeling too full and hot.
More fisstech is rubbed into her clit, around fingers pistoning into her hard and fast.
A different louder sensation after so much over whelming pleasure focused around the blood engorged mouth of her pussy, the turgid red sore clit exposed to both men's continued attentions.
Eskel is rutting his hard cock between her smooth hairless butt cheeks his length extending up - he's rutting along the ruts of her spine- framed by the cutest of lower back dimples, the only feature accentuating the otherwise almost non existent dip and curve of hips to waist to ass. 
The size difference between them is obscene.
Ciri is feverish in her need, "Please," she begged even as she slumped further back against Eskel, her head solidly thunking back against his thickly muscled chest, grinding down against him and his pinching probing fingers.
Eskel’s scruffs the back of her neck, fingers gripping tight, bruising. Geralt feeds her the tip of his cock, much too large to actually fit in her mouth. Not without training.
She loses more time again, kissing, licking and mouthing at the cock, dipping the tip of her tongue into where he is leaking, a new flavor coating the back of her throat. 
Her nose is crushed up against white wiry coarse hair, the rough texture iritates her skin as she laps and sucks at the full sack and balls, deep earthy musk and pressure and heat.
The grip Eskel has on the back of her neck, holding her in place for Geralt lessens. He scissors his fingers one last time before pulling them out of her pussy. 
She feels so empty.
She can’t help but cry out in disappointment, she knows that they won’t leave her unfilled for too long, that they won’t stop at just a swift and almost brutal fingering.
"Shhh, little cub,” Eskel whispers in her ear, "we aren't anywhere close to done with you yet." His hands gentle her, running up and down her sides, soothing her distress the same way she's seen him stroke and soothe his horse. 
One hand settles low on her belly holding her steady tapping a rhythm out on her pubic bone in time to the tinkling of her bell.
His other hand runs up and down her spine shifting lower into the pool of slick between them, teasing at the tight furl of her asshole. She mewls and shivers and her hands move up to Geralt's rocking hips infront of her, pushing him away so she can catch her breath. 
She is overhelmed her shaking body is too sensitive.
They both gentle her. 
Geralt, crouched in front of her dusting light kisses across her eyelids, stroking her hair, kissing the hollow of her throat, a gentle pressure as he softly kisses first her one, and then the other peaked nipple, gentle butterfly kisses soft against her tight areolas. He hugs her from the front, massages down her body and hips, make sure she isn't cramping from holding the stretch in her hips and thighs.
Large warm hands sensitizing her, distracting her from the painful stretch where her rose bud is being forced open so wide.
"Shhh, princess,” Eskel whispers in her ear as he adds another finger, beginning to spread them scissoring his fingers apart, stretching her virgin ass in preparation for something much bigger.
Nothing had prepared her for this experience, none of the exams, or games she's played.
She cries and it's Geralt that shushes her this time. "Shhh,” he says, lips busking teasingly against her sensitive belly. “Let him train your little whore hole Ciri, let him take care of you, you don't have enough experience, let him in, let us be good for you.”
Eskel withdraws his fingers and she can’t help but cry again, convinced they have decided she isn't old enough, or good enough to to fuck or claim.
She'll do anything, she wants everything, "Please! Please, please, please, Ughhh!" Her pleading is cut short by Eskel who has returned with more fingers stretching her further, coring out a place inside of her.
"Your cunt is just too small cub, much too small to take anything the size of my cock, are you sure you still want to try?"
"Please," Ciri begs , her head falling back against Eskel's shoulder again as Geralt's thumbs brush over her sensitive breasts. She grinds her asshole back against the three fingers inside, desperate and feverish in her need to prove herself.
Time moves slowly. Ciri is floating.
Geralt starts plucking at her small, little nipples, still tightly budded, making them flush a deeper pink, plump where they sit on the her otherwise underripe chest, they flush up plump and swollen.
It makes her gurgle clentching down where her cunt is empty and dripping. Her chest justs out toward those teasing callused fingers. "You'll have the most beautifully sensitive, little tits when these grown in cub, soft and pretty and ripe," he hums, fingertips stroking lightly as Ciri squirms and clentched down around the four fingers Eskel has inside of her, "These little teats of yours all hard under your training vest everyday, just begging to get plucked, you got are attention, acting the slut." 
Geralt's thumbs rub over the very sensitive tips of her breasts, heat rising in her center, as needier mewls and whines bubble out from between her kiss swollen lips.
He cups them both in his hands, his hands so rough and scarred against her unblemished youth. "Maybe we should see about getting these pierced to match your belly button, what do you think Ciri, do you want a pair of bells through these sluty little nipples?"
She's hazy at the question, "Do people even do that?" She assumes they must, and this is another thing she's never heard of when Eskel's rumbling laughter resonates through to her, rewarding her innocent question with a teasing light rub to her clit.
Geralt drops his hands from where he had been cupping her, he ducks to drop another set of sweet light kisses on her nipples, then, he takes her nipple fully into his mouth, sucking down suddenly hard and mean, sharp teeth scrapping against her. Ciri arches and cries as he pinches her other nipple, she clentched every muscle in her body and her cunt throbs as she climaxes.
Geralt's thick fingers push up inside her without warning. She's sloppy and swollen where he's touching her. Fingers spreading her wide, feeling the pink wet walls of her pussy tremble through the last of her climax.
"Horny little bitch isn't she?"
Geralt's rumbling agreement is muffled by her tit. He licks at her nipples again, finally pulling back, a long strand of saliva connecting his smirking lips to her wet spit slick chest.
He grins and slaps her. Hard, sharp, and sudden, right on the rosy swollen tips of her nipples.
Ciri's empty cunt clenches down, the rim of her straining asshole spasms where Eskel's has fit four fingers snug inside her - deep, she rides them as Geralt keeps slapping and plucking her nipples.
"Perfect little bitch, you mean" Geralt murmurs, and Ciri is pleased to know they think she's perfect. 
Geralt abandons her cherry red nipples and drops down closer to where he can see her wet swollen lips - bald, spread wide exposing the red gash of her plush little pussy. She doesn't look innocent and untouched here anymore.
The four fingers that stretch the previously tight furl of her rosebud squelch as they pull free. And Eskel tilts Ciri back further against his chest, he slid his large hands beneath the smooth skin of her upper thighs, hooked her under her knees lifting her up higher and tilting her pelvis up even more.  Putting their work on display for his brother to appreciate fully.
Geralt feasts his eyes on the ruin of both of Ciri's holes. Eyes trailing back up to Ciri's own watery eyes, her blush stained cheeks her throbbing teats.
Ciri is lifted a little bit higher, the slight gape of her asshole kissed the tip of Eskel's cock. The thick head rocking and teasing against her opening. 
Her cunt might be much too small, new and fresh to take anything close to the size of Eskel's cock. But between the fisstech loosening her inhibitions, the stretching, and the restorative properties of the Swallow they were using as lube, her ass was a good compromise for Eskel to break in.
Geralt added some more Swallow to Eskel's shaft, a quick squeeze and release. He uses what's left on himself, masturbating his own not inconsiderable endowment at the sight in front of him.
It all feels impossible to Ciri, the thick crown of Eskel's cock centering more and more pressure on her hole, her own weight driving it up deeper into the cleft of her ass. It won't work, and it hurts. Just when she thinks it won't happen, that they'll have to give up, her asshole finally gives way. The flared head makes an audible wet sound when it finally pops inside her.
The gurgling whimpers and teary cloudy eyes the little Citran princess locks on Geralt have the Witcher's own cock tearing up, spitting precum, in response.
"Please! Oh, this is too much!" The snot and crying tears aren't how Ciri thought this lesson would go, she hates it when her voice gets all whinny.
"Do you want to continue, or are you going to tap out like a little girl? You want us to be yours don't you?" Geralt sounds a little disappointed and Ciri hangs her head and tries to be strong and hold back her tears, tries to be brave.
"M'sorry. Yes  Geralt please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me like a big girl."
"That's right, you are our precious little perfect bitch, so grown up and pretty for us. Remember your meditation lessons and breath out for us, Now be good and don't tense up you little hole, you aren't afraid of a little pain are you my sweet cub?"
Ciri takes a deep breath, tightening all the muscles in her core and then breath out, she tries to be as calm as she can, focusing on the happy tinkling bell sound her percing makes as she contracts and expands her diaphragm, belly heaving in and out with her breathing. Eskel's cock feels better where she is stretched out with each set of breaths she takes.
"You can do it cub, unless you want me to try your other hole?"
"No! No, please don't, please fuck my ass!"
She can't imagine taking Eskel inside her pussy, she only has a moment to feel relieved before she is screaming as Eskel raises her up beneath her knees again, the hard won progress they'd made getting the head of his cock inside her almost undone, her hole stretching out wide with pressure as it almost pops back out again. It doesn't pull free, and she is dropped down abruptly and more of his shaft slams inside of her.
The sweet kiss Geralt gives her heads off her hiccuping cries. His fingers gently start rubbing her clit, giving her new pleasure to focus on.
"Hmmmm, fuck, you are doing so well Ciri, your pussy is just dripping wet, we knew you'd love making us yours." Ciri is able to blink away the tears rolling down over her flushed cheeks. They are both watching her, she doesn't doubt she is the center of their attention, just like she has always wanted.
This is what she's worked so hard for. She wants this, wants them all. She'll fuck them both and make them hers.
"C-can you touch me inside, please." It hurts but she unclenches and breaths, remembering her meditation lessons, remembers how much fun they'd had so far.
"Can you spread your legs a little more, cub?"
"More...more Ughhh." 
Eskel tilts her forward onto Geralt's chest a little bit where he is infront of her. She feels her legs being spread further up and out, it's a lot like when they practice stretching on the platform mats after training, except how it isn't at all like that.
Her legs are straightened out and her ankles rested on Geralt's either shoulders, his hands are on her cheeks, fingers gripping deep into her cleft pulling them open, and it helps, makes the stretch around Eskel's girth feel better.
She likes their attention, she likes this, she does.
Geralt steps back away from her, and without the support her body drops back down onto where Eskel is making a slow steady grind up into her.
He watches as his brother’s thick, meaty cock disappeared, inch by devastating inch, into his Child Suprise.
The slide down onto Eskel doesn’t stop until she can feel the press of his hip-bones against the meat of her ass. 
She's taken him all inside of her, tip to root.
Ciri doesn't know what she is feeling, plundered and stretched beyond anything she has ever known. She is crying and twitching against the massive insertion. Her tissues bruised she can feel the slow steady pulse where she is impaled, even in this his Witcher heart doesn't speed up it's rythm.
Her own pulse is rabbit quick and fluttering as she tries to deal with the sensations. Her bruised tissues throb as the Swallow heals the hurt.
Geralt smiles gently at her and she is proud to have pleased him.
Continued in second Part of Chapter 3, or read it in it's entirety on AO3 link at the top of the post.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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Fuck yeah I finished my #Wreck Ciri story! How a drabble became 13k đŸ˜¶ IDK.
Find the full thing posted on my AO3 here: Everytime a Bell Rings a Witcher Gets His....
Deadest of dead doves! đŸ•ŠïžđŸ’€
Ciri finally gets the full attention of the Witchers she has claimed as her own. Training her holes to accomplish the task is a whole other problem. Or, Eskel and Geralt (but especially Eskel) are hung, and Ciri isn't so much extra tight, as she is extra small, this poses a problem.
You don't actually need to have read the first two chapters for this one to make sense. PWP Shameless Filth!
Notes:
Some uniformed, non-consented potion and drug use in this chapter along with: Size difference, age difference, power imbalance, tit slapping, nipple play, mean cunnilingus, slut shaming, over stimulation, and everything from the first two chapter warnings revisited!!
Chapter 3 under the cut I had to split it up into two parts here on Tumblr because of word limits.
There is a growing puddle of slick on the floor beneath where Ciri's milky smooth thighs are being braced open, hooked over a broad equally naked pair of thick legs. Her toes are captured in the sweaty humid bend of the dark haired Witchers knees forcing her pelvis to tilt even more, putting more strain on her hips from the stretch.
She doesn't even remember seeing Eskel take off his clothes, can't accurately recall how long it's been since dinner.
Her nanny back in Cintra would always use flower analogies when talking around the reality of Ciri's little quim. "Don't let anyone touch your blossom Ciri" "No one appreciates bruised petals" "A loose bloom loses its value quickest, best to allow things to flower in their own time..." Actually come to think of it the last one might have actually been about flowers.
Sometimes you just had to call a cunt a cunt.
In any case if the velvety soft dripping petals of her quim were to be compared to any sort of flower right in this moment Ciri would be hard pressed to decide if her pussy is more similar to a sunflower, or a truly lurid looking orchid.
Someone, she's not sure who, strokes through the bald cleft between her sensitive petals...
A sunflower she decides.
Geralt moves to pull a couple vials from the ruck sack at the base of the platform and shucks his own clothes stuffing them in the pack alongside his brother's discarded set, joining Eskel and Ciri in their nudity.
Ciri decides Geral must be the sun. Bright hair a contrast to Eskel's dark. 
"Sun's and moon's and starbursts Geralt!"
They've only just begun her lesson and already Ciri's lust blown mind has decided Geralt is the sun. Her destiny's path lit bright. It's the only explanation for how her sunflower of a cunny is eagerly following his position around the training room, pelvis gyrating and wiggling belly quivering.
"Geralt!"
The bell charm pierced through her bellybutton is loud over the sound of her whimpering and pleading.
She can already feel where her eager slick has also soaked the places where she and Eskel are pressed together. The whorls of the hair on his upper thighs matted from her girl juice and the sweat that's gathering, glistening everywhere their bodies touch.
The sensation tickles and she can't stop herself from mewling and giggling like a lioness or maybe like a hyena in heat when Geralt finally steps back up close between her splayed legs.
She's not sure which.
She keeps giggling, her back arching even more so that she has the meat of her ass pushed back against Eskel's crotch and her tits eagerly offered up toward Geralt's smirking shining mouth.
"I thought we agreed only enough of the Tawny Owl draught to get her endurance up, whatever you put in her goblet has her flying" One of Eskel's broad rough hands cups her swollen folds as he talks, "Fuck but you are so sweet cub," he murmurs, parting her folds and getting his thumb and forefinger squeezed down around her clitoral hood, teasing her engorged clit out, and then roughly jacking it off like it's a tiny cock.
The electric feeling is building up behind her belly button, "not a lion cub anymore, I'm a wolf cub! Geralt! Ughtt" 
Ciri decides she needs to make certain the Witchers she is claiming know who and what she is, Ugh Awrooo!" Her abortive howl transforms into a baser grunt when Eskel slides a single finger into her, testing the stretch and give of her pussy.
"Shhh, girl,” Eskel whispers in her ear, nipping at the back of her neck even as he adds another finger into her, beginning to spread them, stretching her in preparation for something much bigger.
Ciri finally does let loose a keening howl as his fingers find a spot inside of her that makes sparks explode somewhere deep within her. She has to close her eyes when light blooms around where Geralt is outlined by firelight in front of her. 
She feels so empty, she feels too full already.
They've only just started.
As Eskel continues to stretch her tight opening Geralt is slicking up his hand, an unstoppered vial of Swallow coating and pooling in his palm. 
Geral squishes his chest into her face, hugging her body between himself and Eskel as he reaches down around behind her. Ciri can feel his hard cock, feel his nipples rub against her. 
Geralt's full tits are bigger than hers.
Ciri squeal and rocks forward away from where Geralt has dripped some of the cold Swallow down her back further onto Eskel's fingers inside of her. The liquid easily floods down the valley of her spine further adding to the slick where she sits splayed across Eskel's thighs. 
Everything between her legs is so much better.
It's all heat and darkness she can't see back behind her where the warm wet sound must mean the two men are kissing? With how wet everything sounds it's more than that. The  Swallow is slick, the ingredients that make it a potent potion providing a frictionless warming glide in the gap between Ciri's back and Eskel's front. Her two Witcher's are preparing for her. 
A third finger teases at her front entrance. And Ciri rocks forward chasing more sensation.
Even with as broad as his palms are when Geralt lubes up Eskel's cock he's reminded again at just how large his brother's cock is, "Fuck, going to have to get her wetter, stretch her more." 
Pulling away from the clinch, Geralt gives one last squeeze around Eskel's cock. Choking it from the root, up the shaft around where it's thickest in the center and twisting his wrist back around the glands and bulbus mushroom tip, making certain slick is applied completely. It wouldn't do to break his Child Suprise this first time.
The properties of the Swallow mean the veins are even larger and more pronounced down the imposing length, blood flow increasing as the healing herbs work through thin flesh.
He loves the off brand uses for Witcher potions and signs.
Ciri grinds forward onto the fingers, back against the slick hard heat.
Her insides twinge and she whimpers when the big fingers deep inside of her bump up against a bright pinching spot of pain.
"Melitele's tits but she is shallow,  doubt either of us could get more than the tip in here, change of plans, Geralt get the fisstech" 
Geralt taps out a fine line of white powder onto a scared and gnarled finger, balancing the drugs from the tip all the way up to his first knuckle. Runs the mess up under Ciri's top lip, along her gum line.
The flavor of the potion lingering on his skin, along with a taste that must be all Eskel.
Geralt plays the pads of two fingers further back into her mouth, petting her tongue. She tastes the unmistakable flavor and tingle of Swallow working and something new that tastes like a scraped knee feels, full of earthy gravel and strobing sensation. 
That must be the fisstech.
Geralt had coated Eskel's penis in Swallow, and he had coated her gums with fisstech.
"Swallow, swallowing, swallows, am I a bird now Geralt? Am I a swallow, swallow you whole" She squeals again when Eskel meanly pinches her clit, telling her, "Swollen more like it"
Geralt dipped his saliva slick finger back into the envelope of fisstech, then joined it with the other two Eskel already had inside of her.
The fisstech is gritty and coarse until it dissolves, friction and her wet slick breaking it down into a paste as it's all worked deep into her pussy.
The same strobing strong fussing sensation overtakes her again. This time radiating out from where she is so swollen, the ache in her core almost disappears, if it hurts she doesn't mind it anymore.
Ciri is over whelmed and nearly at her peak again squeezing down on the fingers inside of her, climaxing inspite of, or maybe because of that bite of pain.
She loses track of fingers, feeling too full and hot.
More fisstech is rubbed into her clit, around fingers pistoning into her hard and fast.
A different louder sensation after so much over whelming pleasure focused around the blood engorged mouth of her pussy, the turgid red sore clit exposed to both men's continued attentions.
Eskel is rutting his hard cock between her smooth hairless butt cheeks his length extending up - he's rutting along the ruts of her spine- framed by the cutest of lower back dimples, the only feature accentuating the otherwise almost non existent dip and curve of hips to waist to ass. 
The size difference between them is obscene.
Ciri is feverish in her need, "Please," she begged even as she slumped further back against Eskel, her head solidly thunking back against his thickly muscled chest, grinding down against him and his pinching probing fingers.
Eskel’s scruffs the back of her neck, fingers gripping tight, bruising. Geralt feeds her the tip of his cock, much too large to actually fit in her mouth. Not without training.
She loses more time again, kissing, licking and mouthing at the cock, dipping the tip of her tongue into where he is leaking, a new flavor coating the back of her throat. 
Her nose is crushed up against white wiry coarse hair, the rough texture iritates her skin as she laps and sucks at the full sack and balls, deep earthy musk and pressure and heat.
The grip Eskel has on the back of her neck, holding her in place for Geralt lessens. He scissors his fingers one last time before pulling them out of her pussy. 
She feels so empty.
She can’t help but cry out in disappointment, she knows that they won’t leave her unfilled for too long, that they won’t stop at just a swift and almost brutal fingering.
"Shhh, little cub,” Eskel whispers in her ear, "we aren't anywhere close to done with you yet." His hands gentle her, running up and down her sides, soothing her distress the same way she's seen him stroke and soothe his horse. 
One hand settles low on her belly holding her steady tapping a rhythm out on her pubic bone in time to the tinkling of her bell.
His other hand runs up and down her spine shifting lower into the pool of slick between them, teasing at the tight furl of her asshole. She mewls and shivers and her hands move up to Geralt's rocking hips infront of her, pushing him away so she can catch her breath. 
She is overhelmed her shaking body is too sensitive.
They both gentle her. 
Geralt, crouched in front of her dusting light kisses across her eyelids, stroking her hair, kissing the hollow of her throat, a gentle pressure as he softly kisses first her one, and then the other peaked nipple, gentle butterfly kisses soft against her tight areolas. He hugs her from the front, massages down her body and hips, make sure she isn't cramping from holding the stretch in her hips and thighs.
Large warm hands sensitizing her, distracting her from the painful stretch where her rose bud is being forced open so wide.
"Shhh, princess,” Eskel whispers in her ear as he adds another finger, beginning to spread them scissoring his fingers apart, stretching her virgin ass in preparation for something much bigger.
Nothing had prepared her for this experience, none of the exams, or games she's played.
She cries and it's Geralt that shushes her this time. "Shhh,” he says, lips busking teasingly against her sensitive belly. “Let him train your little whore hole Ciri, let him take care of you, you don't have enough experience, let him in, let us be good for you.”
Eskel withdraws his fingers and she can’t help but cry again, convinced they have decided she isn't old enough, or good enough to to fuck or claim.
She'll do anything, she wants everything, "Please! Please, please, please, Ughhh!" Her pleading is cut short by Eskel who has returned with more fingers stretching her further, coring out a place inside of her.
"Your cunt is just too small cub, much too small to take anything the size of my cock, are you sure you still want to try?"
"Please," Ciri begs , her head falling back against Eskel's shoulder again as Geralt's thumbs brush over her sensitive breasts. She grinds her asshole back against the three fingers inside, desperate and feverish in her need to prove herself.
Time moves slowly. Ciri is floating.
Geralt starts plucking at her small, little nipples, still tightly budded, making them flush a deeper pink, plump where they sit on the her otherwise underripe chest, they flush up plump and swollen.
It makes her gurgle clentching down where her cunt is empty and dripping. Her chest justs out toward those teasing callused fingers. "You'll have the most beautifully sensitive, little tits when these grown in cub, soft and pretty and ripe," he hums, fingertips stroking lightly as Ciri squirms and clentched down around the four fingers Eskel has inside of her, "These little teats of yours all hard under your training vest everyday, just begging to get plucked, you got are attention, acting the slut." 
Geralt's thumbs rub over the very sensitive tips of her breasts, heat rising in her center, as needier mewls and whines bubble out from between her kiss swollen lips.
He cups them both in his hands, his hands so rough and scarred against her unblemished youth. "Maybe we should see about getting these pierced to match your belly button, what do you think Ciri, do you want a pair of bells through these sluty little nipples?"
She's hazy at the question, "Do people even do that?" She assumes they must, and this is another thing she's never heard of when Eskel's rumbling laughter resonates through to her, rewarding her innocent question with a teasing light rub to her clit.
Geralt drops his hands from where he had been cupping her, he ducks to drop another set of sweet light kisses on her nipples, then, he takes her nipple fully into his mouth, sucking down suddenly hard and mean, sharp teeth scrapping against her. Ciri arches and cries as he pinches her other nipple, she clentched every muscle in her body and her cunt throbs as she climaxes.
Geralt's thick fingers push up inside her without warning. She's sloppy and swollen where he's touching her. Fingers spreading her wide, feeling the pink wet walls of her pussy tremble through the last of her climax.
"Horny little bitch isn't she?"
Geralt's rumbling agreement is muffled by her tit. He licks at her nipples again, finally pulling back, a long strand of saliva connecting his smirking lips to her wet spit slick chest.
He grins and slaps her. Hard, sharp, and sudden, right on the rosy swollen tips of her nipples.
Ciri's empty cunt clenches down, the rim of her straining asshole spasms where Eskel's has fit four fingers snug inside her - deep, she rides them as Geralt keeps slapping and plucking her nipples.
"Perfect little bitch, you mean" Geralt murmurs, and Ciri is pleased to know they think she's perfect. 
Geralt abandons her cherry red nipples and drops down closer to where he can see her wet swollen lips - bald, spread wide exposing the red gash of her plush little pussy. She doesn't look innocent and untouched here anymore.
The four fingers that stretch the previously tight furl of her rosebud squelch as they pull free. And Eskel tilts Ciri back further against his chest, he slid his large hands beneath the smooth skin of her upper thighs, hooked her under her knees lifting her up higher and tilting her pelvis up even more.  Putting their work on display for his brother to appreciate fully.
Geralt feasts his eyes on the ruin of both of Ciri's holes. Eyes trailing back up to Ciri's own watery eyes, her blush stained cheeks her throbbing teats.
Ciri is lifted a little bit higher, the slight gape of her asshole kissed the tip of Eskel's cock. The thick head rocking and teasing against her opening. 
Her cunt might be much too small, new and fresh to take anything close to the size of Eskel's cock. But between the fisstech loosening her inhibitions, the stretching, and the restorative properties of the Swallow they were using as lube, her ass was a good compromise for Eskel to break in.
Geralt added some more Swallow to Eskel's shaft, a quick squeeze and release. He uses what's left on himself, masturbating his own not inconsiderable endowment at the sight in front of him.
It all feels impossible to Ciri, the thick crown of Eskel's cock centering more and more pressure on her hole, her own weight driving it up deeper into the cleft of her ass. It won't work, and it hurts. Just when she thinks it won't happen, that they'll have to give up, her asshole finally gives way. The flared head makes an audible wet sound when it finally pops inside her.
The gurgling whimpers and teary cloudy eyes the little Citran princess locks on Geralt have the Witcher's own cock tearing up, spitting precum, in response.
"Please! Oh, this is too much!" The snot and crying tears aren't how Ciri thought this lesson would go, she hates it when her voice gets all whinny.
"Do you want to continue, or are you going to tap out like a little girl? You want us to be yours don't you?" Geralt sounds a little disappointed and Ciri hangs her head and tries to be strong and hold back her tears, tries to be brave.
"M'sorry. Yes  Geralt please."
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me like a big girl."
"That's right, you are our precious little perfect bitch, so grown up and pretty for us. Remember your meditation lessons and breath out for us, Now be good and don't tense up you little hole, you aren't afraid of a little pain are you my sweet cub?"
Ciri takes a deep breath, tightening all the muscles in her core and then breath out, she tries to be as calm as she can, focusing on the happy tinkling bell sound her percing makes as she contracts and expands her diaphragm, belly heaving in and out with her breathing. Eskel's cock feels better where she is stretched out with each set of breaths she takes.
"You can do it cub, unless you want me to try your other hole?"
"No! No, please don't, please fuck my ass!"
She can't imagine taking Eskel inside her pussy, she only has a moment to feel relieved before she is screaming as Eskel raises her up beneath her knees again, the hard won progress they'd made getting the head of his cock inside her almost undone, her hole stretching out wide with pressure as it almost pops back out again. It doesn't pull free, and she is dropped down abruptly and more of his shaft slams inside of her.
The sweet kiss Geralt gives her heads off her hiccuping cries. His fingers gently start rubbing her clit, giving her new pleasure to focus on.
"Hmmmm, fuck, you are doing so well Ciri, your pussy is just dripping wet, we knew you'd love making us yours." Ciri is able to blink away the tears rolling down over her flushed cheeks. They are both watching her, she doesn't doubt she is the center of their attention, just like she has always wanted.
This is what she's worked so hard for. She wants this, wants them all. She'll fuck them both and make them hers.
"C-can you touch me inside, please." It hurts but she unclenches and breaths, remembering her meditation lessons, remembers how much fun they'd had so far.
"Can you spread your legs a little more, cub?"
"More...more Ughhh." 
Eskel tilts her forward onto Geralt's chest a little bit where he is infront of her. She feels her legs being spread further up and out, it's a lot like when they practice stretching on the platform mats after training, except how it isn't at all like that.
Her legs are straightened out and her ankles rested on Geralt's either shoulders, his hands are on her cheeks, fingers gripping deep into her cleft pulling them open, and it helps, makes the stretch around Eskel's girth feel better.
She likes their attention, she likes this, she does.
Geralt steps back away from her, and without the support her body drops back down onto where Eskel is making a slow steady grind up into her.
He watches as his brother’s thick, meaty cock disappeared, inch by devastating inch, into his Child Suprise.
The slide down onto Eskel doesn’t stop until she can feel the press of his hip-bones against the meat of her ass. 
She's taken him all inside of her, tip to root.
Ciri doesn't know what she is feeling, plundered and stretched beyond anything she has ever known. She is crying and twitching against the massive insertion. Her tissues bruised she can feel the slow steady pulse where she is impaled, even in this his Witcher heart doesn't speed up it's rythm.
Her own pulse is rabbit quick and fluttering as she tries to deal with the sensations. Her bruised tissues throb as the Swallow heals the hurt.
Geralt smiles gently at her and she is proud to have pleased him.
Continued in second Part of Chapter 3, or read it in it's entirety on AO3 link at the top of the post.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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You had me at 'lava lamp' as improvised lube @witchertrashparty 😉
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: WiedĆșmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Underage Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Additional Tags: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Consensual Underage Sex, Extremely Underage, Loss of Virginity, First Time, homemade lava lamps, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Children, Love Confessions, two cakes Series: Part 16 of Witcher Trash Party Summary:
Geralt wants to show his very best friend in the whole wide world how much he loves him. Good thing he already has an idea how to do it - and if he didn’t, there are instructional videos on the internet.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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A++ womb fucking! Also Centaur!Geralt is such a great fun filth fodder!!
In light of some reading of Centaur!Geralt, I got,,, inspired.
Watch out for kind of beastiality, GeraltxCiri, womb fucking, and implied underage, also implied sexual slavery
Keep reading
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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The time of Witchers ended, but the Witchers didn't. Instead of killing the Witchers, the mages took them to use. to be milked for their cum and breastmilk to make potions and such, and be incubators, ass and magicked cunts, for their experiments and rare monsters. They learned the secret to changing Witchers and make as many as they need, the younger the better, because it gives more time for breeding them. They get used by anything and everything. stuffed full all the time and never free
Find the full fill here on AO3
Well Anon, I kinda just took the inspiration from your original prompt, and then as I tend to, got stuck in the "Explore How This Works" fussing around.
A DeadDoveDoNotEat exploration of the trials and training of Witcher trainees. What actually does happen to those that fail? #WhatHappensDuringTheTrialsStaysInTheTrials
The Brotherhood of Sorcerers setting up Witcher's training and creation to cultivate resilient fuck pets.
Seriously DeadDoveDoNotEat here.
More tiny vignettes based around the prompt. Sorry Anon, I'm apparently incapable of doing a short succinct fill without getting sucked into the larger "What If" spit balling.
*Geralt and Eskel aren't given an age here, but the fate of younger witcher trainees is explored, so I'm marking this underage but there actually isn't any graphic underage smut here, just magic users acting badly.
Content Warnings: Gangbang Not Safe Sane and Consensual Dead Dove: Do Not Eat Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con Trauma Object Penetration Dildos Fucking Machines Come Inflation Object Insertion Underage* - Grooming Anal Fisting Rimming Evil Plans
--- The True Fate of Failed Witcher Initiates ---
Less than one in ten boys that started their training to become a Witcher in the Wolf School at Kaer Morhen reached their last trial.
Geralt's school had always had one of the better survival rates, down mostly to the care and teaching from older Witcher instructors. If you survived your maiming and made it home alive you helped teach the next generation to avoid your mistakes.
Of those that did make it to the last trial before becoming a fully trained Witcher, it's was an even coin toss on their longer term survival rate. If they survived their last infusion of mutagens and chaos magic from the sorcerers, and lived through their first year on the Path most Witchers were likely to continue to survive baring the accidents and fatalities intrinsically tied to the vocation of course.
The Brotherhood of Sorcerers had use for Witcher's and were careful in how they grew each successive generation. Manipulating their concoctions and methods between each batch of initiates.
For all of the copius research notes that most of the sorcerers and magic users kept, it was still unknown who that first mage had been, or why they had decided to create a creature like a Witcher.
There were plenty of initiates across all of the various schools - the levels of attrition never really impacted the scale and scope of the Witchering work needing to be done compared to the trained workforce carrying out that work.
It wouldn't do to flood the market with too many new graduates when new jobs had statistically been on the down turn since the time of the great confluence.
If every Child Suprise, bartered third son, orphan or runaway that made it through the doors of the mountain keep of Kaer Morhen had been successful there would be too many of their mutant ilk, and the continent would be over run with too many Witchers and not enough work to keep them all employed and occupied not causing trouble for their betters.
The mages made certain to keep the numbers balanced.
It was no tragic circumstance that accounted for the total number of failed initiates. It wasn't just a cruel trick of fate that saw most of the number of boys thinned out early on in their training. It was down to the appetites of the mages in charge of creating new Witchers.
The more beautiful or submissive or sweet a boy, the more likely they would 'die' at their trial, or if the sorcerer was particularly horny it was likely their favorite would 'die' during a freak training accident.
No one ever saw the boys who didn't return from their trials or from the special healing rooms of the magic users who rotated through the Witcher schools.
They all heard the screams, could scent the distress and pain, but the one mercy the magic users gave to the Witchers was dealing with their failed boys.
There was no graveyard in Kaer Morhen.
The 'dead' were wisked away through portals to workshops and towers. The remains studied and used to tweak and feed the mutegens used on the next batch, the next trial, the next boy. At least that's what everyone thought.
The training even before the first trial made the boys lithe, strong and flexible. The physical drills and magical practice left them open to suggestion, helped along by a regiment of potions and tinctures.
The Brotherhood of Sorcerers helped raise a delectable and hardy stock of fuck pets.
It was a fun gig 'helping out' at a training school. If you were frequently involved in cultivating the new herd you had your pick of the boys. Most magic users had a predilection for sadomasochism and used their toys roughly. Centuries of sexual exploration of their appetites, boredom and unchecked magical power a dangerous combination.
The genius that thought to grow a cabal of fuck toys that could also help police the failed experiments and monsters that the Brotherhood's other experiments often created was a bonus.
Less work dealing with irate townspeople, more time on pleasure projects.
Stregobor was a prime example. He was known to have at least two nubile little Witcherlings in stasis if not actively being used in each of his tower strong holds at any given time. The boys would see to his pleasure, help in his experiments and rituals and then when they grew too damaged or boring he would trade them out for a new set. He'd almost single handedly depopulated the Cat School because of his appetite for little cat boys and disregard for the numbers needed to maintain the population.
The Cat School was considered particularly unhinged by the other school's of Witchers, another PR win by the sorcerers, it would not do for their pets to be too friendly with one another and start comparing notes.
Better they doubt one another and remain weary.
Anytime the secret got close to being figured out the Brotherhood would agree to cull the majority of the herd and start again if enough of them were still interested in heading up the Witcher sub committee or needed vessels for other projects.
Witcher Trials and Training:
Geralt and Eskel were the only two left in their age group when they were taken for special training in advance of their trials. If they did well, they might even receive extra instruction.
No one talked about their training sessions with the sorcerers. Or when asked couldn't share what their experience had been, unwilling or unable to recall what trials or training they had undergone.
Both had prepared in advance for the week they would spend in testing, by eating well doubling up on their stretches and conditioning.
When they both were returned everyone was too happy to see them alive to ask questions.
The physical proof of their hardships was evident to all, Geralt's hair gone white and Eskel with a limp that would take weeks of long soaks in the hotsprings and regular stretching, balm and massage to remedy.
There are only half memories and impressions they remember. More sensation and pressure, everything hazy and seemingly impossible.
Things they whisper to each other in their shared quarters, unsure if what they remember was reality or a shared fever dream brought about from their shared experience and love for one another.
Things they'll not discuss years later across campfires and in rooms at inns.
Experiences hard carved into their psyches, Eskel more reckless, Geralt more quiet and terse. Both prone to insomnia and short tempers.
They scrabble confidently together down over the back of the mountain keep toward a portal that will take them to a training evaluation and then, if they are lucky/unlucky a final trial together.
They'll be gone a week, or forever.
The long arms of the fucking machine engaged them both- halfway between where Geral and Eskel were both strapped down on breeding benches, limbs bound and their tits, asses and cocks made accessible.
The thrusting was constant and fast, cum churning up in their bellies, the large ballons wisk attachment similar to something found in bakeries- buried deeply in their guts, battering their insides, bashing their swollen prostates with each revolution.
Groans and cries over shadowed by a mechanical grinding of the machine, and the squelching sound as more and more fluid was introduced through the hollow handle of the device down into their bellies.
A robed figure came to periodically to check on them. Pulled the wide open balloon part of the wisk part way out. It's widest point would strain their assholes open obscenely wide, the chasma of their pink inside on display as more cum and icy cold potions were funneled into their depths.
Expanding and solidifying into an important alchemical agent.
Overfull and over stimulated holding on to one another pressed bloated belly to bloated belly sobbing as they tried to expell the contents packed so tightly in their bodies.
Desperate for one another after such a long session strapped down to their individual benches, so close to one another but unable to touch each other for reassurance as the volume inside them increased and their throats gave out dehydrated and unable to offer encouragement to each other.
Geralt chapped lips sealed around Eskel's ass hole frantically lapping and sucking racing to save his best friend, his brother from the rising toxicity of the solution still stuck inside.
The previously tightly furled hole, (something they would tap shyly on when exchanging blow jobs and hand jobs in their shared quarters) was swollen so much no wrinkles remained.
It was tighter than ever before, raw from frictions and stimulation. Acting as a barrier, keeping the massive solution retained behind, poisoning Eskel.
A crescendoing cascade of noise: squealing from Eskel, and slurping from Geralt who had to work frantically sucking the last of the solution out, spitting globs of thick mixture into the catchment bucket before diving face first back between the other boys cheeks.
Both their veins getting darker and darker as the toxicity spread.
Elbow deep in Eskel, drawing the last of it out, his friend's hiccuping cries and the very real throbbing pulse squeezing in time to the beat of Eskel's heart surounding him like a living glove.
The shuddering rhythm assuring him that they were both still alive.
Two pale pairs of buttocks crashing together, sharing a monsterously large double sided dildo.
The Sorcerers in charge of them making gestures and signs, causing the penetration to increase in both breadth and width.
Eskelin a crumpled ball, ass proped on folded slightly sprawled knees, face smashed bloody on the ground from when his arms and consciousness gave out.
Geralt straddled over and above the larger boy, taking more and more of the vibrating phallus deeper into himself- saving his friend more pain, even if he isn't awake to feel it, letting him rest.
The sting of over worked muscles and sweat running over open abrasions, thighs straining as he has to raise and squat down endlessly.
Both of their butt cheeks chaffed, red hot and bruised from the repeated impact and friction of slamming together.
The clapping of their asses accompanying the clapping and rasping sound of those watching stroking their own cocks along at the same pace.
The end of the dildo pulsing and expanding twisted so deep into him he is certain he'll choke on it before the Sorcerers who are watching are satisfied. -
Waking up alone certain that Eskel must be dead, must have failed the trials. -
Going through a second set of trials. -
His hair going white, the only outward sign his body is able to give, the only visible record of the trauma of his second lonely trial.
The relief, both felt at seeing each other again alive. Geralt and Eskel quiet and solem under the eyes of the Brotherhood of Sorcerers. Both thanking them for administering their training and trials. Both turning to travel back up the mountain over the path named Killer back to Kaer Morhen and hopefully to a future where they will now both be on a Path together. -
Whenever they are within each other's orbit they'll always Interlock their fingers grasping tightly, fingers laid against one another's pulse points, just checking to make certain.
Gladthey survived where so many other initiates died and were lost forever.
Not knowing that scores of their number still lived locked under spell and command, still existing in an unending trial.
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filthfichunter · 4 years ago
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OMG 😍 I was the second anon on this prompt!! Fantastically porn-y!! This is the easter content I am HERE for!! Thank you so much for delivering such a playful and filthy-fun fill! đŸ°đŸ”„
Can't help but send this to everyone with the egglaying/oviposition/eggpreg kink listed in their kink list... Easter themed stories for everyone!! Maybe it's a creature, Easter Hare/Sprigon/Springtime goddess maybe it's easter eggs, maybe it's a fertility ritual gone wrong/right!! So much fun springtime/fertility/creature lore out there, go wild and feel inspired!
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Hope you don’t mind that I combined these two--they were both so good! Although sadly I didn’t manage to work in CBT. Next time!ïżœïżœ(Also, to the 3 months-old prompts still sitting in my inbox, very sorry for the delay! Those will definitely be my next priority.)
read on ao3, or below:
--
Geralt woke with the first breaths of spring, shaking the cold out of his bones and shedding the winter that had settled over his forest for the long months. He had much to do in preparation for the months to come—an entire world to bring back to life.
It was easy enough to coax the lands back into blooming, and it was a task he always enjoyed, convincing the flowers to blossom and the trees to bud. He wove among the trees, feet treading lightly on the soft grass springing up.
And then he heard it—someone singing, the spring breeze carrying the melody to him from afar. The singer’s voice was beautiful—clear, joyful, reaching soaring highs. And an idea came to Geralt.
He knew he would soon need to bring new life to the world, the beginnings of cramps in his abdomen already making themselves known. His eggs wouldn’t be ready for another few weeks, which was perfect—it gave him time to prepare, time to plan how he would snag the singer to be his mate, to bear his young and to renew the forest.
Geralt laid his trap in advance—a trail of treats leading from the village to just outside his warren, sure to pique the curiosity of the young bard, if not the appetite. And then, hiding in the bushes, belly heavy with eggs, he waited for his soon-to-be-victim to appear.
It didn’t take long. Jaskier—as Geralt had learned his name was—had taken to walking the forest paths in the evenings, sighing over the beauty of the forest or the beauty of a lover or any other thing that caught his poet’s attention. And sure enough, when he saw the first treat Geralt had laid out, he picked it up, and the next, and the next, until he found himself in front of Geralt’s warren.
“That’s odd. Who would--?”
He was cut off as Geralt leapt, bursting from the bushes to snag Jaskier around the waist. The bard yelped, too surprised to even fight back—in a short moment Geralt had navigated the twisting hallways of his warren (an impossible maze to anyone but him) and deposited Jaskier solidly on the pile of furs that made up his nest.
Jaskier stammered for a moment, lost for words as his brain processed the quick turn of events, until he finally gathered his wits. “Now see here!” he started, and then he finally took in the creature before him.
Geralt stood, bare as Mother Nature had birthed him, stomach gravid with new life. His rabbit ears swiveled under Jaskier’s inspection, his nose twitching as he waited for Jaskier to speak.
“What—who are you?”
“Geralt.”
Jaskier paled at the name—he had only just realized he was in the presence of a god, apparently. “What—what will you do with me?” he whispered, fingering nervously at the hem of his shirt. Geralt kneeled down next to him, pulling away his hands and pinning them to his side, just as he pinned him with a stare.
“You’ll bring new life to the forest.”
Jaskier’s eyes flickered downwards and back up again just as quickly. “I think there’s been a mistake, I can’t—I’m not a woman,” he said bluntly, trying to tug his hands out of Geralt’s grasp. Geralt held firm.
“You’ll bear my eggs just fine.” Saying that, he released Jaskier’s wrists so that he could begin to divest the bard of his clothing, but he wasn’t expecting the sudden resistance he was met with.
“What—no,” Jaskier protested, batting his hands away and drawing his knees up to his chest. Geralt admired how it rounded his arse—which he would soon be sinking into. “I—I mean, please, o God of Spring, I urge you to reconsider,” he begged.
“I’ve considered it enough,” Geralt answered, “and decided. You’re perfect for me. Young, full of life and song. You’ll make a wonderful mate.” Then, hoping to calm the bard’s racing heart, he leaned forward and kissed him, gentle lips trying to put him at ease.
It didn’t work—Jaskier went even stiffer, turning his face away and squeezing his eyes shut. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, let me go. Don’t do this.”
Geralt grew angry. It was an honor to be chosen by a god—who did this young upstart think he was, turning down such a generous offer? But he knew of a way to ensure Jaskier’s compliance. “What do you think happens if the God of Fertility is unable to complete his ritual?” he bit out.
Jaskier didn’t answer.
“I’ll tell you. The forest will stagnate, devoid of new life, and your village will starve,” Geralt said bluntly. “If that’s what you want
”
Jaskier bit his lip, reddening it. “No,” he finally sniffed, all the fight fleeing him at once.
“Then let me breed you,” Geralt rumbled, and leaned in for another kiss, testing Jaskier’s resistance. He was met with none, although he wasn’t met with enthusiasm either. That was fine—Geralt didn’t need a willing host.
He pushed Jaskier backwards until he was lying on his back, and made quick work of his clothes. Jaskier stared resolutely at the ceiling the entire time, face creased in distress, but he didn’t struggle. Soon he too was bare, and Geralt wasted no time in hiking up his legs, exposing his tight hole.
“Wait,” Jaskier interrupted, a new fear in his eyes. “Aren’t you going to—please don’t fuck me dry.”
Geralt growled. He didn’t want to waste any more time—the eggs were growing heavier by the minute, his body anticipating his coming laying. But he supposed lubricant would make it more pleasurable at least, and the boy wouldn’t run the risk of tearing.
He dropped Jaskier’s legs and went to fetch a vial of oil, confident inn the knowledge that Jaskier wouldn’t—and couldn’t—flee. He returned shortly, and Jaskier was still where he’d left him, shivering a bit in the cool springtime air.
Geralt would soon warm him up. He poured out some oil and hiked Jaskier’s legs up again, oiled fingers coming to prod at his hole. He was tight, but under Geralt’s constant pressure, soon yielded to the press of two fingers stretching him wide. And Geralt knew he would only stretch further as the night went on.
Jaskier’s lips parted at the first intrusion, brow creasing in not-quite-pain. “Relax,” Geralt murmured. “It’ll feel good, if you let it.”
Geralt worked him with two fingers until he was panting, subtly shifting his hips in search of more. Geralt obliged, slipping in another finger, rewarded with a moan as Jaskier threw his head back. Geralt reached for his cock, intending to bring him to orgasm so that he would relax further, but was surprised when Jaskier gripped his wrist.
“What are you doing?” he growled, and Jaskier released his wrist instantly, eyes widening.
“Please don’t—just get this over with?” he pleaded.
“You need to relax, or else my eggs won’t fit.” Jaskier turned watery eyes to him, but Geralt couldn’t be budged. “I know what you need. Just relax and let me.”
Jaskier shut his eyes, but made no move to further hinder Geralt as he once again reached to stroke Jaskier’s cock to full hardness. It only took a few strokes before he was moaning louder, bucking up into Geralt’s fist, driving himself back down on Geralt’s fingers.
Geralt twisted his wrist just as he prodded at that sensitive spot inside of Jaskier, and Jaskier spilled with a cry. Geralt pumped him through it, only stopping when Jaskier began to shudder from overstimulation and twist away. Geralt’s fingers remained deep inside Jaskier’s hole, keeping him stretched and ready for his cock—which was proudly standing at attention, eager to sink into that warm slickness.
Jaskier’s eyes rolled back in his head as Geralt breached him for the first time, Geralt himself only barely holding back from sinking all the way in. Fuck, Geralt hadn’t felt something this good in a long time. Even parted around Geralt’s thick cock, and even after orgasm, he was still so tight, hot and contracting sinfully around him.
Geralt sank in slowly, until he was buried to the hilt, Jaskier gurgling underneath him. Geralt could oh-so-faintly see the outline of his cock in the bard’s abdomen, piercing him all the way up past his navel. Geralt pulled out and sank back in again just to watch it bulge, feel the way Jaskier clenched.
“Fuck, gonna breed you so good,” Geralt grunted, his composure leaving him as he began to thrust faster. Jaskier moaned, writhing a little beneath him, his hot, sucking hole fluttering as if trying to draw Geralt deeper. Geralt’s pleasure grew higher and higher, until, with a grunt, he emptied himself into Jaskier, hot cum splashing deep, filling his stomach in preparation for the eggs that were coming.
They weren’t very big, but there were many of them, all clamoring to get out, to be laid inside a warm host. Geralt gripped tighter around Jaskier’s waist, pulling him further down onto his cock as the first few eggs spilled out of him. One, two, ten, bump after bump traveling the length of his cock and being deposited inside Jaskier.
“Fuck,” Jaskier gasped, muscles twitching. “Feels so weird—so much—”
“There’s plenty more to come,” Geralt replied, groaning as another batch made its way out of him. Jaskier made a guttural noise and tried to pull away instinctively, his body screaming at him too much too much too much.
Geralt yanked him ruthlessly back down, and Jaskier screamed, voice cracking as he sobbed. “Please, enough,” he wheezed, and Geralt knew he had to be struggling for air, his lungs unable to fully inflate with how full his stomach was becoming.
He didn’t listen, pinning Jaskier in place despite how he struggled, animal instincts trying to flee, until he gave up all at once, sobbing beginning anew. His lithe body quaked underneath Geralt, each jolt sending a shock of pleasure to his cock, still trapped in that wet heat.
The last egg, one of perhaps a hundred, popped into Jaskier. He lay there shuddering, covered in sweat and his own come, gasping for breath. His eyes were closed, but they flew open as soon as Geralt took his cock in hand again, stroking just to feel how wonderfully tight he clenched around Geralt with every touch.
“Nonono stop,” Jaskier gasped, pushing ineffectually at Geralt’s chest. “Stop, it’s too much—”
Geralt didn’t stop—Jaskier felt too good around him. He grunted, speeding his hand and thrusting into Jaskier, chasing a second orgasm as he forced Jaskier towards his second.
Jaskier came with a cry, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he spasmed around Geralt, and Geralt followed him, spurting his seed into Jaskier once more. His body couldn’t take it, full as he was, and it spilled out around Geralt’s cock, leaking out onto Jaskier’s thighs and onto the furs.
Geralt pulled out, watching hungrily as more come leaked out, though his eggs stayed firmly inside, where they would remain until the time came to birth them.
“You’ll carry my eggs so well,” Geralt praised, picking Jaskier up—careful not to compress his overfull belly—and laying him down on a cleaner pile of furs.
Jaskier didn’t reply, too wrung out to even muster a word. His eyes slipped closed, his body falling into a much-needed rest, so that he didn’t hear Geralt’s next words.
“And next year, you’ll do it all again.”
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