Work Text:
So there you are: a cute little Kindred, minding your own business, clearing your blue buff together with Wolf after a successful bot gank, and feeling pretty good about yourself too—you expertly picked off both the enemy ADC and support with a lethal storm of arrows—when all of a sudden, from out the fog of war, a huge purple ball comes soaring over the treetops, clocking your fluffy white face right in the jaw and leaving you stumbling and disoriented. Purple dust splashes all over your fur and into your lungs, making you cough and sputter as you try to figure out what’s happening. It doesn’t help that the blue golem is still trying to smash you with his stony fists as he lumbers behind you. Wolf growls and latches onto the golem’s wrist in protective fury.
“Aghk! Who’s there?!” You shout in confusion, but it’s no use—you’re out of wards. You can’t see who slapped you with their darn ball, and worse yet, your health is steadily draining away from this accursed purple goo. It burns at your skin and lungs; a slow, agonizing burn that makes you woozy and lightheaded. What kind of diabolical character goes around slapping people with their fat balls and covering them in musky, mind-altering goo?!
Krakooom!
You spin on your little lamb hoof just in time to see the blue golem erupt in a bright pillar of light from the heavens, its stone body tearing in half down the center before collapsing to the ground, dead. Wolf reels back, just as confused as you are. Your camp was stolen from right beneath your nose, and you still have no idea who did it.
Hastily wiping off the slimy, corrosive dust, you decide to cut your losses and run. With a nimble hop, you head towards the safety of your turret. You can see the top of the powerful stone statue poking over the trees—a promise of protection. It’s only a short sprint away. Everything is fine. If worst comes to worst, you even have your ultimate! You put on a smug grin, certain the enemy jungler’s making a mistake if they chase you now. With Wolf by your side you run off, darting between trees and skipping over rocks.
“Achoo!”
Did someone just… sneeze? Right behind you?! With a raised eyebrow you look back over your shoulder… only to see some sort of dangling glowy seed-pod swinging right at your face! Without a moment’s hesitation, you cast your ultimate ability, creating a zone of life-preserving energy all around you. The plant-like pod whacks you across the cheek, knocking you to the ground and covering you in purple poison-dust once more. The impact sends a sharp pain through your head and neck, followed by the slow burn of the dust; but you power through it. Your quick reaction insured that the blow was not lethal, and for some time, nothing can kill you. Pushing to your knees, you ready your bow and face the aggressor.
“Eeep! W-why aren’t you dead?” Comes a confused chirp. Your opponent is finally in the open now, and seems to be caught quite off-guard by your ultimate. You take a quick look at her—she is some kind of deer-girl- hybrid with a large flail. She doesn’t look too threatening. Maybe this is another easy kill. As you take aim, her already-doe-wide eyes widen even more and she leaps into the air, soaring past you at seemingly relativistic speeds. Wolf lunges at her legs as she flies past but his ethereal jaws snap shut on empty air.
“Eh!” You yelp, gracefully cartwheeling out of the way of her twirling flail. You try to line up a shot again, but just as you loose your arrow the deer girl prances right into the underbrush and your shot goes wide. You ready another, but the foliage is too thick—you’ve lost her. Drat. And that’s not the worst part. Since she leapt right past you, she’s now cutting off your path to the turret. Your ultimate’s immortality zone isn’t going to last forever. Should you run away, or charge straight through her? Hmm. Wolf circles closely around you as you peer intently into the leafy brush, watching for the slightest trembling twig. You carefully weigh your options. Your first instinct is to avoid needless risks and run away, back into your jungle. But… on second thought, you seemed to be somewhat outclassed in the mobility department. You could send Wolf in to slow her down, but it probably won’t be enough. You’ll have to make a charge for your tower, and hope maybe your team arrives in time to scare her off. You take one deep breath, cough out some purple stuff, and make your move. Here goes nothing!
“Chase!” Growls Wolf, registering your decision without the need for words and already charging in ahead of you. You rush towards the thick, tangled brush already bracing for a fight, when—
BONK!
Everything goes upside down, and then there’s dirt in your mouth. You’re flat on the ground, face-down, and your head throbs in pain. You must have blacked out for a second. You can hear Wolf whimpering as purple dust burns at his eyes and mouth. His whimpers grow quieter as he floats away, leaving you behind.
“Eeyuh! I did it!” The girl exclaims happily. You’re still flat on your face, waiting for the world to stop spinning. She steps out of the brush, her long deer-like legs towering over you as she stands over your head. “Hey—w-where’s the gold?”
It seems she still doesn’t understand why you aren’t dead. Groaning miserably, you push yourself up onto your hands and knees, feeling around for your bow.
“H-huh?! Y-you’re alive?” She sputters in disbelief.
You raise your bow. “Your attacks are meaningless,” you boast. “I am death.” Rising to your hooves, you wipe the dirt from your pristine white fur. Your ultimate is nearly over—you’re bluffing now. It’s the only hope you have.
“Eep!” The deer-taur squeaks, hopping in fright as you ready another arrow. “Go to sleep, then!”
“What?” You wonder aloud.
“CHOo!” Sneezing again, she blows a huge cloud of purple dust out of her nose. The thick, slimy stuff envelopes you, clouding your senses with a musky, heady, floral scent. You’re aware that you’re coughing and stumbling, but you’re seeing double or perhaps triple… you’re entirely uncoordinated on your hooves and your thoughts are getting sluggish. Everything looks dim and swirly. You see the deer girl watching you intently, her head peeking over a bush with her ears sticking straight out to either side, but all you can do is let out a yawn as you stumble to your knees. It doesn’t feel like you’re falling. Rather, the ground twists up at you and gives you a rude slap in the face.
“Night-night…” she whispers. It’s the last thing you hear before curling up in the sun-warmed grass to have a nice little nap.
You were having a nice dream about shooting at an angry Scandinavian man wielding a big sword, when you slowly awoke to the sensation of being dragged clumsily through leaves and branches; dirt and grass stains smearing your pristine white coat and twigs poking at your back and thighs. You shake yourself awake and realize that someone’s pulling you through the brush by your ankles.
“Get off! What’re you doing?!” You complain drowsily, twisting against their grip.
“I-I’m finding a better spot, okay? I don’t like b-being out in the open…”
You recognize the deer-girl’s voice and slowly remember the fight you were in. You’ve never seen this creature before, but apparently she has the ability to drug you mid-fight and make you pass out.
“Who are you?!” You growl. “Where are you taking me?!” You try to kick at her fluffy deer-belly, but her hold on your skinny ankles is too tight. You wonder where the hell Wolf ran off to. Some help he is.
“Oh! My name’s Lillia.” She answers cheerfully, a slight pink reaching her cheeks. “A-and, well… when you fell asleep… I just thought, you l-look so nice, so…” Her blush deepens as she speaks. “Umm… I thought maybe, w-we could take a break from fighting for a little bit…”
Plap!
Somewhere beneath her, there’s a meaty wet slapping sound. Your eyes follow the noise to find… a terrifying development. She has a cock. And it’s huge. Shockingly so. You weren’t aware cocks were allowed to be so large. It looks aggresive too—not thin and round-tipped, but monstrously thick with a wide, flared head, a thick bulging medial ring, and numerous throbbing veins. She may be an adorable little fawn, but her cock looks like it would be more at home on a roided-up shire stallion. It’s an angry shade of purple, matching her sleep-dust, and from the winking tip a long sticky string of translucent cockslime hangs and wobbles with each step she makes.
“Hm. Here! This looks good.” Lillia pulls you into the farthest corner of the jungle, deep in the tangled underbrush and wedged between a tall swaying tree and a wall of boulders. There’s just enough space for her to block your only exit, pinning you on your back between a rock and a tree and a very hard place. “S-sorry miss sheep, but you just look so p-pretty…” Her cock flexes in time with that final word, discharging a cloudy rope of fluid that splatters against the trunk beside you. “Oh—I shouldn’t be doing this… a-am I being toxic? P-please don’t report me! I just can’t help it…” She sounds genuinely very concerned.
You’re still a little too discombobulated to respond. As you recover from your shock, you focus on trying to get out of this situation. You take note of your options. You’re very low on health, and completely out of mana, and you don’t even have your bow to use basic attacks. So you can’t attack, or use your little dash, or call Wolf to help you—wherever he is. And of course, you already used your ultimate. Lillia on the other hand is still full health, seeing as you never even hit her, and full mana thanks to the blue buff she stole from you. And lastly, you have nowhere to run now that you’re backed into a tight corner and she’s body-blocking your only escape. What about flash? …No, you already used it when you ganked bot. And smite won’t help you here.
You gulp in fear. Your only hope now is that your team can rescue you. Hopefully those bumbling idiots look at their map. Maybe they’re on the way already! You reach into your item bag, quickly pulling out your magical mini-map, and unfurl it in front of your face, blocking out the hefty cock that’s dangling in front of you. You catch a glimpse of Lillia’s eyebrows arching up curiously as she watches you. You ignore her. Hmm. That’s weird. Where is everyone? You don’t see a single ally anywhere on your map, besides yourself. You just helped out your botlane! Where’d they go?
Splurrt.
A big dark stain suddenly appears in the middle of your map, all over mid lane and dripping down the river over dragon pit. “Yuck…” you mutter, tossing away the now-useless parchment before the musky slime can drip onto your fingers.
“Eeee… this is going to be so fun—for both of us! …I think.” Lillia flicks her ears and looks down at you, her gaze roaming over the curves of your fluffy white assets with guilty enthusiasm, her hands fiddling restlessly as she contemplates how to begin.
You’re still holding out hope for a rescue, but you can’t understand why your team is missing. Reaching into your bag again, your soft fingers find a small wooden board which you yank out. A-ha! The scoreboard. Hmm, let’s see here… there’s you—Kindred. 2/0/0, 44 cs. Looks good. And your team—oh no. Your eyes move from one entry to the next, your heart dropping as you read each. Riven top, 0/3/0, currently dead. Ahri mid, 0/5/0, dead. Your Caitlyn, 0/2/1, dead; along with her Lux support, 0/4/1, dead. How is this even possible?! It’s only been like 5 minutes! Your hands are shaking as you glance to the other side of the board…
Gwen top… 0/0/3…
Aurora mid… 0/0/5…
Kai’sa and Soraka… 0/1/6 and 0/1/6…
A little whimper escapes your throat now. You can do the math. But you look anyway.
Lillia jungle… 14/0/0.
The scoreboard falls from your hand. Your eyes trace a slow, steady path up from Lillia’s cervid hooves, along the height of her skinny deer-legs, across her dripping, angry deer-dick, over her exposed human tummy and belly-button, pert little leaf-wrapped boobs, and finally meet her bashful, doe-eyed gaze. You lock eyes for a few seconds, watching her violet irises shift and her precious lashes flutter. Then she looks away awkwardly and steps over you, whispering an unintelligible apology. The sun disappears behind the mass of her deer-like lower body, drowning you in the fed jungler’s shadow. You can’t bring yourself to do anything but swallow nervously as her needy horsey-dick hangs over you, flexing of its own accord. It bucks upwards with so much enthusiasm that it makes an audible plap against the furred skin of her underbelly, flinging thick strings of pre-sauce with wild abandon. One strand splatters onto your face, painting a stripe down the front of your mask and making you wink your left eye closed. Despite your fear, you can’t help but stare at her throbbing girl-cock in disbelief and awe, taking in its majesty.
Her cock is like a bundle of garden hoses wrapped together in leather, the largest of which is her cumvein—a bulging tube that runs the length of her shaft’s underside, occasionally throbbing so hard you can see the whole thing inflate as a long column of pre-jizz rushes through it. You try to wrap a hand around it to push it away, but you can barely get your fingers halfway around its circumference, and its so heavy you almost need two hands to lift it. Hot veins pulsate against your palm, sinfully warm and engorged. Her cumvein rests against the crook of your thumb, thicker than two of your fingers combined, and vibrating noticeably with a slow, churning flow of seminal liquid.
“Eee—!” Lillia yelps, bucking her hips in response to the contact. “S-so nice… It’s been so long…”
“What are you doing…? Can you get off of me?” You ask, pushing away her thick endowment instinctively. You’re unwilling to believe what’s happening, and what’s about to happen, even though you know full well what she’s doing. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t dare. She… just forgot she had this thing dangling under her. The thought repeats in your mind as you try to reassure yourself.
“Ee—I’m—well—Oh no…” She sputters. You can see her body shaking and squirming in embarrassment above you, one of her hindlegs lifting awkwardly. “I was going to bonk you, b-but then I was watching you sleep, and you looked so pretty, umm, and I noticed you have a nice b-butt, and soft fur, and then, well, I really wanted to hug you, so I started squeeze—umm—squeezing you, and, oh, I guess maybe I got carried away… but I really need this!”
“You—what?!” The indignant shout nearly makes her jump in place. “You squeezed me? While I was asleep?!” Your shoulders tense and you curl inwards.
“Eeep! Sorry! Just a little… you are so soft… and fluffy! A-and you… have a squishy chest—I-I couldn’t help it!” Her face is beet-red, though you can’t quite see it from beneath her deer-half.
You gasp. “You fondled me too?!”
“Eep! Sorry!”
“Get off of me right this instant!”
With a squeak of guilt, Lillia shifts in place… and does not comply. She does just the opposite. “I-I’m sorry…” she mumbles as she bends her front legs, lowering herself towards you and wrapping both hands possessively around the small of your petite waist. Her thumbs slowly massage the soft fur around your bellybutton, playfully caressing it, while her fingernails dig possessively into your lower back.
“Huuuh—“ you gasp, an anxious heat spreading through you from the contact. You jolt, your muscles suddenly tensing. You’ve never been touched this way. The heat concentrates in your lower abdomen, warm and embarrassing yet tinged with tingly pleasure.
Lillia’s practically drooling. She stares down at you, her face red with mixed desire and hesitance, her ears sticking out to the sides of her head and quivering with tension. Her fingers squeeze your waist like slender steel clamps and you begin to squirm in a pathetic, ticklish fit. She watches you hungrily. “Y-you’re so small and… helpless with no health left…” she murmurs, tilting her head.
“Gnnnhhh—no! No!” That’s the best you can manage as you wriggle, your hands trying to dig at hers and pry away her grip on your tummy.
“Mmm… just one hit, and you would die…” The way she moans about your empty health bar almost makes you think she’d rather fuck it instead.
“Fine—just get it over with then! Take my shutdown!”
She bites her lip, a crazed, power-drunk gleam in her eye. “No… not yet….”
You can’t believe it. She can just keep you here at the edge of the map, leaving you trapped but refusing to finish the kill, and your useless teammates won’t even notice?! Ignoring your pitiful resistance, she gently pushes you beneath her, your back sliding through the grass and dirt whilst her tauric lower body blocks out the sky. Her purple cock flexes and slaps the fur with a sound like a 30-pound steak hitting a drum. You feel her release your waist, only to immediately lower her cervine chest onto your upper body, pinning you under her weight. Her hindquarters remain in the air, shuffling to and fro as she tries to line up her dangling horsecock with your crotch.
“Ack! Stop!” you shout into her underbelly, getting a mouthful of soft auburn fur. Your stomach drops and you feel panic washing through your chest. This is really happening. You want to dissociate, but you force yourself to focus—you have to get away! You wriggle and squirm frantically, twisting like a weasel and grabbing at anything you can for leverage. Your hand wraps around one of her bony ankles, and you pull with all your might, then shove, then desperately punch and scratch her furry leg. It’s all futile. She doesn’t even acknowledge your struggles, and you end up panting from exhaustion and your fingers and arms ache. How can this be happening?! You are death! You can’t be defiled like this! Especially not by some, stupid, annoying, unskilled jungler that cheesed you with her smite-steal! And her stupid dumb sleep ability—like, that’s so overpowered, and rapey! It’s not fair! Who decided she should have an ability like that? You think about how she must’ve touched you while you were asleep and you shudder. Does she… really want your body that much? You’re just a little lamb. Your face is unbearably hot and sweaty beneath your mask. You want to say something, shout in protest, scream—but your head is spinning and instead you only squeak pathetically.
“Nyyooo…” you manage, crossing your thighs as you feel her pulsating meat brush menacingly against your delicate folds. No one’s supposed to touch DEATH down there! And yet you can’t do anything to stop her.
“Nnnngh—!” She moans, biting her lip. “Oh—you’re so soft a-and warm… I need to… get inside…”
“Noo! You’re NOT allowed! Get away from me!” You finally find your voice. With a flick of your hoof, you kick Lillia’s shaft, earning you a surprised “eep!”
“Ow! Stop moving…” She quickly adjusts her position, scrunching forward and threading her rear hooves between your legs, using her size advantage to wrench your thighs apart until they’re spread wide open, leaving you unable to kick any more, and your tight puffy slit exposed and utterly defenseless. Her cock slaps heavily across your abdomen, smearing hot stickiness into your pristine white belly fur.
“AAAAAAAH!” There’s nothing you can do now but scream. You feel her pull her hips back, dragging the underside of her cock down your stomach until its tip rests directly on your pubic mound. You’ve lost it at this point. Sweat soaks the fur on your forehead, making it stick to the inside of your black wooden mask, and tears cloud your vision as they pool in the mask’s eye-holes and cling to your lashes.
“Shhhh! Stop it! Th-this is going to feel really good.” Lillia’s hooves dig into your shoulders and thighs as she braces you for penetration. “It will! You’ll see..!” Her tip is sliding up and down your slit, dribbling thick goo onto your labia. the head is massive—wider than your entire cunt, such that the sides of her flare are rubbing each of your inner thighs while her tip kisses your winking slit. You can already feel warm strands of precum dripping into your opening and sliding all the way down to your unbroken hymen.
“This isn’t going to work, you stupid boosted freak!” you shout, your voice warbling with fear. “It’s too big, it won’t fit! Get off!!”
“Wha—? I… hey…. That’s m-mean…” Despite her soft-spoken retort, the pressure of her hard cloven hooves against your skin only increases, the sharp edges digging in painfully through the wooly fur of your shoulders; and her hips contract even more, pressing her equine cock-head insistently at your entrance. “Just—let me in!” She insists, trying to brutishly force her oversized battering-ram-meat-rod into your tiny hole and breach your body. But as the pressure mounts, squishing the folds of your pussy under her tip, your virginity proves too tight for her monster dick and it drifts out of line, sliding up across your stomach and bashing the underside of your left boob.
You whine, taking the opportunity to wiggle one thigh free from over her leg. You instinctively cross your legs to protect yourself, but doing so makes the fur of your inner thighs mat together with deer-pre. Above you, Lillia shifts, taking tiny adjustment steps backwards as she attempts to realign her angry rod, oblivious to your now-closed thighs. Her thick, blunt tip jabs blindly, ricocheting off your knees and the bony points of your hips.
“Hey—“ she sputters, realizing what you’ve done. “Don’t move around.” Her voice sounds darker now—not deep, but driven. The usual shy, fluttery, hesitant rhythm is gone, replaced by something desperate; too absorbed in her own desires to be self-conscious. “I mean it, you.”
When she lifts her right rear hoof, wedging it between your thighs once more and carefully prying you apart like a raw oyster, you can’t bring yourself to protest. A twitch of panicked energy shoots through your spine, almost like you’re starting from a nightmare, and you ball your fists to beat at the sides of the deer-chest that’s smothering you. You shoulders and upper-arms are pinned hopelessly beneath the weight of her second ribcage, but you can still bend your elbows and swing your forearms, you knuckles crashing hard into her sides like the twin mallets of a marching band bass drum.
“UhhUHuhhUHuhhUhuhhUH… heehee…”
She hums a drone so the impacts make funny hitches in her breath, and as the strength of your blows wanes she only giggles at your futile struggling. You want to cry… but you already are. Your arms drop limply to ground in defeat.
“…this… sniffle… isn’t what you’re supposed to be doing….” You’ve never had a match like this. You and Wolf have had hard-fought battles, crushing defeats, and sweeping victories; but never anything like this. You’ve never felt so helpless, toyed with, and violated. And never felt so hot and trembly inside, like your blood and organs had turned to a molten whirlpool of shame, anxiety, rage, and morbid anticipation. You feel her hot, throbbing horse-member drag across your thigh, the leaking tip drooling yet more slimy Lillia-juice into your fur as it lines up with your quivering entrance.
“You’ll get banned…” you whimper.
“Shush.” Her tone leaves no room for compromise; no pity for your muffled sobs and whimpers. She flicks her short fluffy tail impatiently, arms braced against the tree in front of her. “Now let me in…”
Her humungous dick finds its position, the drooling urethra eagerly kissing your wet pink opening. It’s frighteningly hot on your vulnerable skin, and you can’t help but imagine that it’s the literal heat of her rage and lust made manifest. She twitches her hips slightly and the vascular flesh prods at your sensitive cunt, squishing your soft skin as it fails to squeeze inside. There’s no way you can let her in. Even if you wanted to—it’s just too big. Your folds wink open against her tip, too small and firm to yield to her insistent thrusts. It’s like she’s trying to fit into a shoe that’s four sizes too small—your body was simply not designed for taking horsecock. But the way your slick virgin hole just slightly parts gives her a teasing hint of the exquisite tightness waiting beyond, beckoning her to push harder. You gasp and cry out as she gets more violent, practically pummeling your poor battered pussy into submission. You can’t believe what your body is doing to the bashful deer-girl—somehow the sight of you was enough to make her fondle you in your sleep rather than kill you off as she should have, and now the touch of your sex has gotten her furiously humping at your cunt as she pins you to the ground. You might be flattered if you weren’t so terrified.
Alas, no matter how hard she pushes, it just won’t fit. Huffing in annoyance, she seems to realize she’s getting nowhere and stops. She keeps her throbbing member pressed insistently to your rear, tracing the underside angrily across your glutes hard enough to deform your scant assfat. Occasionally she brings the tip back to your holes, making hopeful prods at your pussy and bum only to be disappointed once more by your unyielding tightness.
She stamps one hoof and grinds it into the dirt near your thigh. “MrrrrRRRMm… how are you so tight? You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”
“I—huh?! That’s not how it works!”
“Don’t lie to me, you! You l-little tease…” Her voice is trembling with anger now; in fact, it’s so vicious her stutter resurfaces. “I’m going to make you take it… y-you can’t just hop around in that cute little lamb body, with your tiny, cute little flicking tail, and your yummy little butt exposed—and expect me not to do this. W-why do you have such nice juicy thighs?! Y-you wanted this, didn’t you?! How come you let me steal your blue golem?! A-and then you swung your little fluffy white hips back and forth at me as you ran away! You’re just a teasing little sheep-slut! SO WHY WON’T YOU LET ME IN?!”
A small flash of anger hits you, but before you can act on it, the deer-centaur slides her rear hooves back, stretched out behind her as if in mid-leap; and lets her entire hindquarters plop down flat against your pre-glazed rump. The fluffy, muscular weight flattens your entire body into the grass. Your eyes go wide as your breath is squeezed from your lungs—you can’t do anything but squirm and wriggle, unable to kick or close your legs with her bony stifles wedged between your thighs. You’re panicking again, fighting for every molecule of oxygen you can fit into your squished ribcage. As such, you’re too preoccupied to notice the pressure building up against your stretching cunt. Lillia’s pressed so tight to your body that there’s no longer any way for her cock to slide off target, and she’s insistent now. She’s compacting you from either end, her front hooves hooked over your shoulders and forcing you down into her hungry horse-meat.
“MmmmmmMMMMMM—!” Finally, with a smothered scream you realize how wide your winking slit has been stretched. The lips of your pussy have been defiled from their formerly plump, virgin state into thin-stretched bands forming a near-perfect circle. And yet it’s still not wide enough to fit around her flare. Your abused hole involuntarily smooches the brim of her flare, while the rounded front of her equine head dips into your channel, stirring sloppy squelches out of your flesh as it gets the first taste of your slippery pink insides.
“Rrrrr, I-I can feel it… it’s going to be so tight…” Lillia shudders at the feeling of your delicate wet hole slurping at her diamond-hard tip, releasing yet another splash of stringy pre into your sodden entrance.
Despite the fact that you’re already struggling just to breathe, you frantically expend every last ounce of strength you have in an attempt to squeeze your thighs shut—but it’s impossible. Her deer-knees are braced between your legs with the weight of her entire deer-half and they don’t budge even a millimeter.
You can feel the firm, resilient tightness of your flesh is about to give out. She’s simply pushing too hard—your poor pussy can’t defend against her invader for much longer. She shifts, allowing you a gasp of breath; and a sudden rush of urgency pours over you.
“I don’t want to be raped!” You blurt out.
“Cute fluffy little lambs like you deserve to be raped.” She growls with only a shred of hesitation. Her words shock you into silence.
It happens without warning. One moment you’re still too tight, and then next—SCHLLLLRRRK!—her cock has already sunk six inches into your un-touched tunnel, your wet walls gripping her so forcefully that the sliding friction left your entire abdomen searing with heat.
“Uuuhhhhhhhyyyyeesssss…” She moans like she’s been lost in the desert for a week and your pussy is a sip of cool water.
You, on the other hand, are in denial. You freeze up and don’t react at all. There’s just no way she really fit that thing inside you. Not the same massive, hulking, disproportionately-overly-gigantic horse penis you tried to lift a minute ago. Nope. She must have another, smaller one. That cock is not inside you right now.
“Oooooohfuck need more…”
You swallow your spit. She can’t have forced it in. It would just never have physically worked. It’s not possible. It… it…
A sudden distressed frown falls over your face and you have the urge to cry. That thing is inside you. You can tell from the feeling of unbelievable fullness, the painful stretching—it feels like the blue golem dipped its hand in lava and punched directly up into your crotch with a steaming-hot boulder-fist.
You’re not meant to engage in… sexual activities, and you never have. The most you’d ever done was a curious, tentative prod of your pinky finger that you cut short out of flustered guilt and hot-cheeked embarrassment. And now your first real penetration was from some deer-girl’s raping, leg-sized, slobbery, musky beast-cock that’s tearing you so wide you can feel your intestines being displaced.
She moans again and brutally slams herself further in, viciously fighting against your immense tightness to sink her smoldering shaft another inch deep. The force pushes your diaphragm, squeezing the air from your lungs with a choked wheeze. Before you can even recover, she does it again, gaining another half-inch of slick warm lamb-cunt squeezing at her needy shaft. This time her tip bumps up against your cervix despite the fact that her cock is not even halfway in yet.
“Oh, dream—everything is so tight and soft! I have to feel it all over!” Lillia throws her head back, her deer-ears twitching while she yanks on loose locks of her own hair. “Why have I never met you before, miss sheep? I’ve never dreamt of something so nice and tight around me!”
It’s too much. Can’t she see that “tightness” is painful for you?
You want to voice your complaint, but with another ravenous thrust she begins battering down the door to your womb, stunning you into silence. Her urethra drools precum on your cervix every time she pushes forward. The slippery fluid would make you gasp if you weren’t already heaving for air every time your lungs were allowed to inflate.
“Stop… resisting!” The deertaur is slowly getting mad at the tiny size of your cervix, and you can see her frustration from trying to penetrate you all over again. Her front legs push down on your shoulders again, brute forcing you down her length like a yordle being impaled on a tree-trunk. Or a yordle being impaled on a horsecock.
You want to resist, to stop her from sinking deeper—but there’s no way you could be any tighter. You can’t even tense your vaginal muscles when they’re already stretched like rubber bands. All you can do is take it; lie pinned beneath Lillia’s furry deer-body and let her iron horsedick have its way with your innards, and maybe hope she’s not strong enough to get any more of it stuffed in. Maybe she’ll get tired. Maybe, after a while, the sweet warm squeeze your pussy’s giving her will be too tight, and her cock will start to hurt from the pressure.
As if to trample on your hope, she whines, “Mmmmff—I need this lamb all the way on my cock! I need you so bad it hurts…” It seems the only pain you’re causing her is in the portion of her shaft you aren’t squeezing.
“Oowaah!”
Glirk!
With a mighty effort she bashes down your final fortifications and conquers your innermost sanctum. Your cervix spreads open in defeat, delivering submissive slurps along the length of her veins as they slide past. Her whole cock surges past in one sloppy, gooey thrust, her flare digging into the walls of your uterus and billowing out to keep you trapped on her breeding rod. When her medial ring squelches through your entrance a shock travels up your spine—you didn’t think you could spread any wider.
There’s so much hot meat inside you. It doesn’t feel real. Little lambs weren’t built to house this much meat—and yet that just makes you all the more inviting and delicious for her. It’s… strange. Why does she want you so much? You’re not sexy. Right? You’re just a petite lamb, with fluffy little boobs and a barely rounded white butt. Why didn’t she go after one of those stupid bimbo sluts like Miss Pirate-Tits, or Ahri, your stupid fox-slut midlaner? Why does she want to rape you so bad?!
Shhlllourk… Glirk!
Lillia pulls back slowly, savoring the way your cunt lips distend as her medial rings pops out, only to hungrily slide it all back in.
“Unnnngh—you’re milking me so good—fffuck!” She hilts slowly, the merciless girth of her cock sinking in inch by excruciating inch. The walls of your womb are stretched so thin you’re afraid they’ll tear; and every part of your insides is filled so full of girlmeat, but still she presses deeper. The tip of her cock is grinding into the dirt through your belly fur, making your belly button invert. You think you’re about to die when—plurp. Her groin finally claps into your ass. She’s all the way in. You can feel the gurgling weight of her twenty-pound nuts resting on your thighs, vibrating with unreleased seed.
For a few moments she just stays there, throbbing inside you, making you feel how thoroughly you’ve been conquered. There’s too much girlcock stuffed in you to even comprehend. Veins pulse against your inner walls, your heartbeats mingling. You feel like you’re becoming a part of her, and she a part of you. It’s almost love… but it isn’t. You don’t want it. But nothing here is happening because you want it to. She’s just taking what she wants from you, and giving you want she wants you to have. And there’s so much backed-up, sticky, slimy, eager deer-love packed away in her gurgling nuts, waiting to be graciously bestowed upon you.
“RrrrRAAA—YES!” Lillia screams. Her whole body shudders in sequence, starting with her crotch and traveling up her spine in a series of tremors that reverberate through your trapped form.
“Please… not inside…” you beg pitifully. The continued tremors of Lillia’s hips and the urgent, searing-hot throbs of the meat-pillar buried inside you signal impending danger. Your paper-thin-stretched pussy recoils at the menacing pulsations, your flesh itself utterly terrified of the cum-engorged semen-cannon on the brink of exploding inside you. She’s so close to cumming that you’re pretty sure you can feel which portion of her angrily-trembling dick is already filled with cum based on how much it has engorged. It’s going to come out. That stuff will touch your vulnerable pink insides! It’s going to get inside your womb and spray all over your defenseless virgin eggs and inseminate you—you have to stop her, now! “You can’t, I’m too important! I’m Death! I’m not supposed to—y-you’re not supposed to—I don’t wanna be pregnant!!”
“OOoouuuhh! Shush and take it!”
You try to respond, but all you can get out is “You don’t—uuummf!” before she interrupts you by lettting her weight settle heavier on your chest, squishing you again and stopping any protests. You make one last attempt to crawl forwards off her cock, but you might as well be trying to phase through solid stone. You pull your limbs in, instinctively folding in on yourself as the inevitable approaches; you would curl into a ball if you weren’t being flattened and straightened out by the fleshy pillar buried in your tummy. You sob. There’s nothing left to do. You’re shivering uncontrollably with despair and powerlessness, and as you close your eyes you notice that the eyeholes of your mask have completely filled with tears.
Then she moans, and her cock throbs so hard that you know it’s over. Time slows as the first sperm-filled pulsation billows down her shaft. You feel your sore passage billow out in obedient imitation, your tender walls perfectly matching the shape of the intruder as its cumvein engorges into your flesh. Closer and closer the bulge travels towards your womb, trampling over your abused cervix without a shred of remorse, until—
GLOLORMP!
It’s so loud. The sound fills your body just as the smoldering, slippery warmth fills your lamb-cunt. It’s shooting out in rapid pulses, spraying into your belly so hard you panic. You worry the thick, pressurized stream is going to rip a hole in your tummy-skin. You start kicking again, scratching at Lillia’s deer fur—but she just cums harder, as if to punish you. Molten slime churns and roils inside you, stirring and boiling as it continually flows out of her throbbing cumvein. As you struggle and fight uselessly against your rapist’s cumming deer-body, a strange twitching-tremble comes over you. Your arms and then your legs lose their strength, filling with hot twitches that you can’t control. Then it hits your torso, making you seize and shake, and at last culminating in your lower abdomen. Warm swirls of helpless, submissive pleasure swim in your semen-slick tunnel, making your sphincter shudder. Each rope of cum splattering the walls of your ruined virgin womb set off another involuntary tremor in your muscles. You’re cumming.
The sheer volume of white breeding-sludge being pumped into your poor hole can’t be contained. As the glue-like substance spills out between your thighs and drips down your pubic bone, you crash shamefully from one orgasm into the next. It doesn’t make sense; it shouldn’t be allowed… but you’re in ecstasy. The most shame-ridden, guilty, dirty, defiled—yet potent ecstasy that could possibly exist. How can anything feel so good and so awful at the same time?
“Mmmmuuuuhhhhgggnnnnn…!” Your jaw can’t seem to move right to form the curses and denial you want to voice.
When you moan, Lillia seems to remember you are a person, rather than just a fleshy fuck-sheathe, and is startled from her reverie. “Mmmm—Ooh! Lamb-pussy is so good! I—I think you were made for my cock…”
You weren’t made for this. Was I? No, you definitely were not. This is unnatural, nonconsensual! “Mmnnnnooouuhhh…” you groan, your core still quivering with cascading orgasms. You are pathetic. You’ve failed. You lost. She’s better than you. She’s bigger and stronger and you are powerless. What are you good for now? Was I made for this? Does her cock own me? Do I deserve to be raped? Because I’m a… cute little lamb? You honestly don’t know anymore. You’ve never thought of yourself as cute, or little, or even a lamb—you are Death. Such descriptors were always irrelevant to you. But look at you now. Death has been claimed.
As the warm, sloshy stickiness packs into the deepest recesses of your belly, coating every last inch of your uterus in gooey heat, you begin to truly realize the magnitude of what you’ve lost.
Death should be pure… Death should never be tainted by mortal desires… DEATH IS BEING RUINED! Yes. You are being ruined. Horrified thoughts rush through you, the shame almost too much to bear. Nothing will be the same after this. Death will be forever marked by this… weird deer-girl’s taint. Yes. You’ve been conquered by horsecock. You belong to horsecock. Death itself has been conquered by deer-girl horsecock, deflowered against its will, forever destined to carry her mark, forever burdened with subservience to a mortal. Every mortal death from now will be tainted with the essence of fawn-cock, and every soul that passes into the afterlife will not be reborn pure, but begin its existence by being spiritually raped full of the same sticky seed that churns in your womb. Lillia has defiled you so thoroughly that she’s not just enslaved you to her deer-cock, but also the entire cycle of the spirit world. No more virgins will be born after today—only cock-hungry, mind-broken, horsecock-worshipping cum-slaves that roll over to present their pre-raped holes at the faintest smell of deer-girl-musk. And it’s all your fault. It’s all your fault. You are the manifestation of Death, protector of its sanctity, and you are allowing every last drop of purity to be thoroughly raped out of you.
And it feels amazing.
Lillia’s still cumming. “Mmmm, so good…”
She steps back a little, exposing your head to the open air while still leaving her cock buried in your body. She hunches over you and whispers right into your ear: “I want to see you next game.” She pauses, her breath hot and slow on your hair. “I want to do this again. So… you’re going to queue up again, after I kill you and your team surrenders. And then you won’t ban me in champion select. And then… I’m going to kill your whole team. And you won’t do anything about it. You’ll just sit in your jungle, waiting for me, while they choke and burn on dream dust; you’ll ignore their screams and pings and let them all die so I can have their gold. They’ll all die one by one… until it’s just you and me. Just like this. All over again.” She pauses, inhaling deeply, indulging in your scent. She nuzzles the fur directly below your ear with her nose, while simultaneously tightening her grip on your throat. “And next time… don’t bother fighting the jungle monsters. Those are mine—you don’t deserve any gold. Just come to this spot and wait on your hands and knees. Do you understand, my cute little lamb?”
You still can’t speak with the way she’s choking you, but you give a weak, barely perceptible nod. It happens before you realize what you’ve agreed to, as if your body is acting entirely on its own. And yet, you know, for some reason, you’ll do exactly what was asked of you. She told you to, after all.
“Good girl,” she purrs. “We’re going to have a long night together…”
A shudder runs through you. Of horror or anticipation, you’re not quite sure. Perhaps both. Meanwhile, Lillia finally releases you, bouncing to her hooves with a sudden look of sweet innocence and twirling her flail as she winds up for… something.
“Sleeeeepy time!”
You gasp for air. The last thing you see is a glowing purple censer careening down at your face.
BONK!