This piece is about Primal Play and two primal beings in a dynamic together and features themes of CNC – consensual non-consent. As such, it may contain imagery that may be triggering. There’s no rape but there’s no holds barred with this couple and I don’t want to upset anyone.
On the other hand, if this piece strikes a chord within you in a way that arouses – but also confuses or scares you — please don’t slip into a cycle of despair and self loathing. If you need to discuss certain things about this piece, you are always welcomed to message me.
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Let me sketch an image for you.
And I invite you, as always, to bring your own brush to the drawing and paint in what you’d like alongside me. Do let me know how you find this.
Wind rushing all around you, plants smacking at your bracing arms, you run from me. I’ve given you a head start. I’ve counted at the top of my lungs and you’re far away enough now that you hear my voice on the very wind that drums on your ears.
Your heart is in your throat, your blood is thunderous in your ears.
And the forest betrays you. The trees watch your every move, marking your footprints in the mud, reaching out and clawing at your skin so that I may find the faintest trace of your blood on their fingertips.
Can you feel my heart racing? You must. We’re linked, you and I. Some strand of symbiosis. Like the goosebumps from the wind hitting our sweat-coated bodies, we feel each other through the shivers. I sense you as you sense me. I catch your scent on the wind and follow as you run from mine.
I do enjoy your panting on the wind.
Of your footsteps splashing in fresh rainwater puddles.
I’ve hooked my fingers around the straps of your dress just as you spot me. You tear from me – in a display of strength I admit catches me off guard – and though I’ve loosened the lace around your dress and your tits threaten to spill out, you giggle and run from me, further into the thicket. My growl reverberates after you. It catches up with you before I can even give chase. Are you soaked, I wonder? How badly do you want to be claimed? I’d ask you but you’re not going to make this easy for me are you?
I like that.
I don’t want easy.
I don’t want you to hold back.
I want to howl through my bite into your neck – Gods, how I want to sink my teeth in your skin. So badly my cock aches.
You come to the end of the paddock. A fence blocks your way. I know it because I’ve been there many times before on this land. Question is, do you climb in between it, hands stretching apart the wire like I’m going to do to your pretty little cunt when I catch you?
No. You squirm under. Wrong choice, kitten. It slows you down. All you can do is think of all the other ways you could’ve gone as I drag you by the ends of your dress back under. Goodness me. You’re wearing no panties. Tsk. Tsk. You’ve been a bad little pup, haven’t you?
You struggle at my hands – fuck, did you just try and kick me? That was on the table I suppose. I won’t hold back if you won’t you told me the weekend before, hands intertwined, us in the midst of what you giggled and called a cuddlefuck. And here we are, breathing hard.
You’re squirming and struggling so much I have to put one knee on you as I tear your dress apart like a kid opening up gifts on Christmas. I jump forward in time — to when we walk back to our tent, back to our parked car with one strap of your spring dress hanging open and your tits exposed. You might read this back and think I’m coarse and unrefined with my language but this is what comes in the moment, this is what nature does to me.
This is what you do to me.
So I hold you down by the knee to your back while I tear your dress off. We’re both panting hard by the time I wrangle it off you, till you’re a naked, wriggling animal covered in the fresh mud from the rain last night.
You look back at me, spit at me – but it misses. Nice try. But it just gives me a look at those enormous eyes of yours, glazed by the thrill of the chase.
It’s only a heartbeat before I have you overturned on the ground under me. Leaves in your tangled hair, face down in the mud as I pull you to your hands and legs.
I can see your pussy glistening between your thighs. You want this as much you wanted the chase. And you lost.
Thunder crackles above and rumbles across the sky and the rain begins to fall.
Smacks our hands and then pelts our bodies.
Assaults your tits.
I pin you to the earth, one knee on you, the other beside you as I pump my cock over your ass.
You’re going to cum when I say you can cum.
But here, amongst the trees and the wildlife and the rain, while you squirm and shout and act feral I am going to pump my load into your pretty pussy until I’m satisfied I’ve bred you like the feral little fuck you are.
Now. How does that make you feel?
