[Reading this on AO3, over at https://archiveofourown.org/works/40867779 is suggested, for a slightly more interactive reading!]

"Back to this..."

The gravesite of his befallen kin. Banehallow was initially drawn to his familial region from tailing a morsel he'd marked as his. Indeed, Gondar had once wandered through the ruins, though the Bounty Hunter himself was already long gone. Wrapped under the spell of his self-inflicted intoxication, the only lingering thought throughout his expedition is to snatch another go at the tail that left him in his current state. Like a contraband that was furthest from his reach, he'd do anything to experience that same high once more. No other mixture of bodily scent nor physical stature was deemed acceptable to quench his longing thirst. He's made his mark, and this werewolf was just as much a slave to his instincts as that damn cat was going to be, should he ever reach him once more.

The dimly lit night was all he needed to navigate the war torn citadel that was once his homeland. Limited as he was in his human state, the prince of Slom has made full use of the cursed blood wrought upon him to achieve all manner of goals, as all those worthy of being deemed a hero could. Unknown even to himself however, the bipedal black-haired human (?) known to many as "Lycan" (shortened to accommodate for tongues of all species), could barely control his own powers under his charmed state. Having to traverse the desolate ruins in the same royal fatigues that he'd left with on that fateful day did quite a number on his conscience as well. The compounding strains unto his psyche left him as nothing but a feral wanderer, seeking to fulfill his impulses. His unkempt mane made it hard to determine just how much man was left in this beast.

Alas, the wolfman trudges on in his multilayered red jacket emblazoned with light trimmings, with only a black trouser and loafers to shield his lower body from all manner of jagged trailings. In his dazed manner, attunement to mana was near impossible. With only two pairs of eyes instead of the usual six provided by his spiritual wolf familiars, naught the strength to shapeshift into a more mobile form, and certainly no one to hear what pitiable howl he could muster in such a handicapped condition. Little did the prince knew; he'd fallen in love with that damn cat. Or at least, the predatorial idea of owning him as his one and only breeding tool.

Spying from behind, a pair of studious eyes show itself in the dark. Though he never intended to sneak up on Lycan at all, trailing behind a tunnel-visioned being could barely qualify as such. The one known as Dazzle, a true erudite of the Nothl arts, happened to be on a detour to track a faintly peculiar energy that had been in the area. Colorated oddly with a skin hue of all-purple, the Shadow Priest clad in a matching robe would stand out anywhere outside of his own enclave. Even among his own folk, the garish tattoos of a set of teeth splayed across his upper and lower lips, among other eclectic facial paintings, made him a stand out. Unlike nearly all his peers however, his care and attention towards both physical and intellectual prowess granted him a most privileged englightenment of the Nothlic world; a place where light and dark are intertwined. In a way, he had both the looks and talent to represent one with heroic status among his tribesman; a scholar that shed a lot of literal blood, sweat and tears to get to where he is.

The powers granted to those who have traversed into the Nothl realm are understood by none other than Dazzle himself (and a stalwart distant cousin of his), as the energies to both darkness and light are as unwieldly as they come. Even in its dormant state, the clues left behind by Lycan however are easily picked up by the priest, and he was fortunate enough to be within tailing vicinity. At the present moment, he'd finally found the source to such an odd amalgam of desire. A middle-aged humanoid wearing gaudy royal clothes, with an odd pair of fangs that glimmered under the moonlight. With what little he could piece together from experiences with the local geography, he'd surmised that this was the famed Lycan; or better known as the last crown prince of Slom, Banehallow.

Dazzle took no care at all to hide himself properly in his reconnaissance, but the rocks was all that is needed to shield his presence. Due to his overwhelming preoccupation with finding Gondar's scent, Banehallow couldn't focus on much of anything else, less he risks losing it to the fetid wasteland air. Within mere observations, Dazzle had realized that the carnal energy emitted by Banehallow and the intense trailings he'd been following were one and the same. Only now did he began to question himself, "why was he attracted to it in the first place?"

As a man of objectivity, it was easy enough for him to be honest with himself; it wasn't that long ago that he'd came back from an expedition to the Nothl realm, but he barely had time to take care of his 'other needs'. In some ways, his body was more honest than his mind; in that before he himself knew of what he was looking for, the draw of that lupine mass in heat premeditated his senses. While his inclination towards men wasn't a natural occurence, it was very much all he could rely on as 'company' due to the patriarchal nature of the temple demographic. 

He wasn't a frequent patron of the deviances yet he is aware of it all the same. A newly learned Dazzle, but the same old lecher. Mastery over his newly infused darklight powers have yet to reach a tipping point, but the trickling sparks riding upon his staff signaled just how eager he was to strut his stuff. A serene smile escaped his lips, as he finally found his evening activity.

"Up to my old tricks again."

Long-winded as the roads may be, the castled regions of Slom was also home to beautiful infrastructure that integrated itself with its many floral habitations. Remnants of the residential annexes could still be seen with trees surrounding much of its perimeter. A familiar territory to Lycan, it was the only advantage afforded to him. In slow and thoughtless motion, he climbed and ducked through the crumbled home turf to heed the primal call that echoes from within and without. What little sanity he had left was spent fully in tuning out any resurfacing emotions while passing by his ancestral courseway.

Underneath patches of surrounding foliage, Dazzle was able to gain more footing without compromising his presence. He too knew that if the Lycan wasn't under such a spell, he'd have been spotted and cornered before he could even lay his eyes on him. An opportunity presented itself in the form of a particularly steep obstacle for Lycan to climb over; and the Shadow Priest wasn't going to let it slip. Sensing that his presence is still well masked by the dreary air and Banehallow's neediness, Dazzle began silently channeling his brand of inversive powers within his palm. With not even one wolf summoned for a lookout, a readied Poisonous Touch flew squarely against the unassuming noble's back.

"Zizzap!"

The blow was powerful enough that even Dazzle himself couldn't hold back a jittery callout. Before Lycan could even react to the source of that noise, he was overcame with a sudden feeling of heaviness, before pain of his cramping muscles eventually start to take hold.

"No! I got careless..." muttered under his breath upon realization of his potentially fatal flaw. Without much of any strength to hold on to, Lycan fell to his knees, before finally slumping his arms over a fragmented wall he'd just about to climb over. The poison slowly dulls his muscles over time, seeping into his bodily core, yet he could sense his wits are regained to an extent. What crept into his tendons were not any kind of paralyzing infliction, but only one of lethargy. A potent spell it still was, as it took a lot out of him just to remain haunched over on the desecrated partition in front of him, as if being held by an invisible gallow.

"Oh yes!" shouted Dazzle, barely holding back his excitement. In fact, he couldn't hold back much of his intentions either as he immediately discarded his religious vestiary and staff. In meandering towards the incapacitated Lycan, a rush of excitement drew all his blood towards his now 'weapon' of choice. With an impressively fat 9 incher to accompany his suite of skills, the level of giftedness he possessed even for a troll seemed borderline unfair at this point.

Right when Lycan managed to lift his head and open his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of a large purple gland landed right on his human snout. Even in his panicked state, all Lycan could do was barely growl in place against the intruding meat. As tempting as it was to get his cock sucked by a werewolf, Dazzle wasn't pent up enough to lose his sensibilities and risk his manhood. Though that was the furthest of caution he would take, knowing damn well just how enfeebling darklight energies can be once it sets in the organs.

Harsh as the paralysis was, Dazzle also had a good tell for its duration. Not wanting to waste further time, he stepped across the wall, eyes beset on his prize. With the reality of it all starting to sink in, Lycan's breathing steadily gained tempo, increasingly so as the rough fingers of the scholars began to feel up his belt. Access to his highborn buckles was somewhat loose by design, as it was enchanted for constitutional adaptations. A few clanging sounds of rocks against olden bricks later and the lordship's pants was only a pull away from freedom. It certainly helped that they were both about the same height, easing Dazzle in the undressing process.

Once released of its modesty, Banehallow's wolven side is shown prominently by the thickly laced hairs decorating his entire backside, hip to thigh throughout. His pants now lying by his floored knees, the physical extent of Lycan's canine physique was made apparent. In his heightened state, Dazzle could feel the needy pheromones flowing from each microscopic pore of the carpeted flesh beheld to him. 

"Ho ho, pretty!" admired Dazzle as he combed through the luscious tufts in wonder as any kind of body hair was a rarity to his kind. Languished odors released by the festering musk made it all the more entrancing to the pent up priest as his caressing made its way to the particularly hairy crevice. 

Perched on his own knees, Dazzle opened the grizzly buttock impatiently with both arms, exposing the nobleman's pink flesh and its surrounding hirsute patterns. This was a triggering point for Banehallow, as it was the first stimulus registered to his senses since he was stricken by the paralysis. The cold wasteland air kissed his hole ever so hauntingly, causing it to twitch instantly to Dazzle's prying. Circling his thumb around the delicately virginal entrance, the near constant providence of sweat gave it a subtly lubricated surface.

'I... can feel again!... Who... what is that!?' were all the thoughts that Lycan could summon, slowly regaining consciousness. However, his muscles wouldn't entertain his enquiries as it can only bide its time until either the poison wears off, or his mana attunement returns into a regenerative state. For now only his rear, made active thanks to Dazzle's generously arcane fingers, could grasp any sensation. Though he'd wished it was the least embarrassing part of his body, all he could focus on now was survival.

Dazzle too could sense something was up, as the bitch's breathing became more obvious. The Juju from within himself had finally taken effect on his little toy. But he was no sadist; just a pent up practitioner looking to score a hole. And boy did he find a looker, and a tight-looking one to boot. 

Having spent long enough marveling his prize, Dazzle took it upon himself to prop his finger into the writhing beastman, feeling up every nook and cranny within. No stranger to reciprocation, he reached his other arm around Lycan's hanging waist to feel up his specimen's own toy. Just as he'd expected, the poison laid to his target could also be removed under his own bestowment. Fearing the repercussions of a rested and wrathful brute, the shadow priest released an alternating trickle of Good and Bad Juju across Banehallow's genitals.

"Just a touch, heh heh heh... for both our sakes." 

The intensity of such energies caused Lycan to uncontrollably twitch in pleasure, while losing much of the energy he'd stored for retaliation, having it all instead redirected to his nether ends. Frustratingly, his mental acuity was stable throughout this torture, and he became increasingly aware that he'd become the victim of a promiscuous deviant. One that knows damn well how to get what they want. Having a blow dealt to his pride was bad enough, but having forced to experience it helplessly only crushed his spirit that much more. 

Banehallow's sinewy insides served to excite the perpetrator even more, much to the discomfort of the victim. He'd never touched himself back there before, and Dazzle certainly wasn't being gentle. Coated in nothing but the wolfman's sweat, the Juju-steeped fingers expertly ran itself against his prostate at a pace to match Lycan's stuttered breathing. In no time at all, the drubbing laid to his insides gave the confused Lycan sensations that are most similar to his last tryst. Under such overwhelming emotional strain, the wolven man's voice relinquished control, allowing for a pup-like whimper to escape.

"Arf!" was all Lycan could utter as his buttons was pushed at an exceedingly faster pace. He was getting so close to release, and that damn cat wasn't even the main thought in his mind. Undulating, ebbing, searching desperately for release, his veiny cock is a hair's breadth away from extrication. Dazzle however had other plans.
 
"Not so fast. We're not done yet," calmly expressed Dazzle with eyes plastered a glimmering focus, as Lycan could feel the literal life taken out of his orgasm. The breathless wolfman's ecstasy was cut short and placed into a Shallow Grave. No matter how intensely his hormones are sent for ejaculation... his biology simply will not give into euphoria. 

"This...is a S-S-SHA-D-DOW P-PRIEST'S-" finally communicated Lycan, regaining what little control he could over his lungs and wits thanks to the emotional high. Frustratingly yet, his motor controls do not respond to any synaptic call still, as the Waves of Shadow sent from Dazzle's fingertips renewed the lease on his muscular atrophy.

"You know you're not going anywhere, so why don't you make it easy for me, son of Ambry? I mean you no harm with my magicks... unless you force such an approach," chided the acolyte, one finger still toying with the royal pucker.

"If only you'd seen how you were; why, even the tamest beast could've taken you out," motioning himself forward, his voice now closer to Lycan's ears.

His other hand now removed from stroking the bestial cock, Dazzle crept into Lycan's line of sight, knowing full well of his limited neck mobility. "Sadly, until I could satisfy my needs-"

"-You're under my 'protection'..."

Lycan was more than inclined to believe his usurper's words, as he wouldn't even be given the mercy of incapacitation otherwise. The... strangely tantalizing sensations building within Lycan was what also tipped him into calming down. Perhaps the aid of a fabled Dezunite could truly relieve him of his everlasting lust. Debasing himself to a priest, with an albeit otherworldly power, is not how he planned his day would go. But it looks to be the only avenue in getting out; both from this eternal hunger, but most importantly, alive.

"Do... what you must...-" weakly responded Lycan, knowing full well of his hopelessness. 

"-...for tis no dishonor, in serving an alpha," huffed Banehallow's last puff before quietly slanting his head down in subservience, though not in complete silence.

Dazzle felt slightly befuddle by such a quick admission of defeat, more so when could tell this man was no stranger to his brand of arts. Uninformed of Lycan's true intention in letting himself be enslaved, he didn't mind it either way. Long has this nerd awaited the lay he'd sought after the past few hours. The sights and smell of it all, compounded with his lengthy involuntary celibacy, did wonders to keep him rock hard throughout.

With the sweat now caked and dry across Lycan's pucker, it gave Dazzle the perfect excuse to dive right in to some tender highborn tush. As disciplined as scholars come, trolls are yet slaves to their animalistic tendencies.

"Arp!" 

Clenching his teeth and anus in tandem, Lycan was clearly not expecting just how odd it feels to be speared open by a troll tongue of all things. Any ass and its owner would be surprised to be doved so intimately, however. The addictive tincture of sweat and canine pheromones decorating inside and out of Lycan's wooly booty made it a cake so good, it's a birthday to anyone with access to it.

Like a dog himself, Dazzle lapped up the tender dynastic hole in every way he could savor it. Tight as it may be, no gate could withstand closure for long against the mighty lips of a troll. Lycan's winking hole received all manner of treatment. Every reflexive muscle spasm of Lycan's walls against Dazzle's protruding taster only made him harder. Merely minutes after the initial tonguefuck, all layers of the wrinkles was loose enough to bend to the invading organ's will. 

The sucklings and light teething of the kinky practitioner molded the middle-age hole in various ways; leaving Lycan reeling for some kind of breathing room. His hole not only sopping wet from all the attention given by Dazzle, it was also the most sensitive now from having captured much of the healing effects of the darklight. 

Despite his initial lip service, Lycan wasn't the type of fool to hand over complete subjugation. His overtaker could very well become his murderer. Never once in his mind did he stopped to devise a contingency maneuver. But...

"Hrrngh..."

His wordless gesture reveals a slivering hint of comfort. Conflicts of second-guessing began brewing within, as his muscles begin to react positively to Dazzle's debauchery. This reaction made it harder to decide between exerting more or less of his thoughts into planning a way out... or to allow this sensation to course through.

In the minutes that passed by, his quivering entrance had become soft and pliable thanks to the "thorough taste test". Light patches of sweat began to surface on Lycan's forehead from being given such a workout, now matching the wetness of his other end. Having blissfully enjoyed his meal, Dazzle finally lifted his face to observe their work of art. Like fresh dew glistening after a rainfall, the dribble that still hangs unto Banehallow's shaggy manhole proved to be an attractive spectacle to the looming top. It definitely helped Dazzle reach a full mast erection, and will certainly assist for what's to come.

Twitching his ears, Lycan could hear Dazzle rising from his knees-

-yet even he wasn't prepared at all for the raw hotdogging of an impressively girthy meat against his exposed buns. Friction was felt between motions of the throbbing cock against the hidden cherry, prompting Dazzle to drip a bit more slobber, as his dick-sawing continues uninterrupted.

"W-wait, hold on, I can't- T-This is- yyYEARGH!" pleaded Lycan, before his begging was cut off by a disciplinary smack against his ass.

"Did you really think your voice has a place here?" doted Dazzle, in a creepily calm tone, hand humming in the afterglow from doling out a Poisonous Touch against the sagging buttocks.

"You've no right!!" answered Dazzle himself, seeing as his blow scared Lycan from further aggravating the horny spellcaster. One can imagine just how hardheaded these eccentric geniuses can be; as when even the tiniest of excursions don't go their way, there's little in holding back a furious meltdown.

"I was going to take my sweet time with you. But you had to ask for the hard way," said an annoyed Dazzle. With not much patience left in him, he slicked his stick to its maximum hardness, and lined its bulbous head right against the wolfman's opening. Within the second of what's to come, Lycan could only reflexively inhale a frightened breath. He was truly up a creek, with no way to dog paddle out.

"Well, ask and you'll receive!" roared the shadow priest, cramming himself in one go, guided only by ire and spit.

"ngGRAAGH!"

Accompanying his bestial roar, Lycan couldn't help but suppress a singular droplet that left his eye. That cherry was not made to be brutally popped so. Yet all he could do was shiver and quake in place. Perhaps it was a blessing that much of his body was spared the stimuli of being skewered wide open. The sting of being forcefully spread by a larger than average pole certainly hits differently compared to a battle wound.

It took a lot out of Dazzle as well, as the tight asshole delivered itself quite the vice grip, allowing only 4 to 5 of his 9 inches in within the first few humps. After a second of composure, the priest continues his unflinching barges, getting every bit deeper with each dip. His well-exercised tongue hangs out lackadaisically as he zones out to the sounds and sensations of some good ol' sex. No matter how high up one may be in status or prestige, all are powerless to their own carnality. Lycan however was not afforded the mercy of adjusting to such a new experience. The wolfman's mouth grew agape at every indefensible attack against his walls, but could find not the strength to say any more than indistinct grunts.

The tightness of the middle aged half-wolf cannot be understated, as Dazzle almost felt like his dick would be crushed if Lycan were to gained even the slightest control over his lower musculature. The priest however held nothing back in resuming his full-action pumping. He'd yet been able to fully hilt his dick in, but he was very much already bewitched by the patrician under his lay. 

However for every action, there's an equally opposite reaction. The onslaught against his exposed backside made Lycan's minute whimpering grow into full on screams. Dazzle was deliberate in timing his thrusts, to ensure that he could get in deeper with each push, further encroaching into unexplored territory of the dynastic rump. The constant restretching of Lycan's anal walls still prickled even after supposedly having adapted to the large base of the gifted troll.

The worst of it came from deep inside; from each of Dazzle's clash against an intestinal roadblock in his attempts to further cram his monstrous shaft inside of the unwilling beastman. The cresting pain from having his insides forcibly reshape itself against the terrorizing outsider even made him a holy man, soliciting outbursts of theistic words of his forefathers.

Through repeated trials of literal brute force, the maroon-skinned scholar had completely sunk his tool in a decisive thrust, his hips meeting the noble's.

The momentum from such a thrust toppled even Dazzle, as he fell forward and landed chest first against the still-lying Lycan's back. His savoring of the moment however was slightly perturbed in the process, on account of being within earshot of the booming response.

"HRAOOOOOOOOOOOGGHH!!!" shouted Lycan as his frame reached its threshold's edge. Having received the package in its entirety sent nervous tremors across Lycan's unmoved stature, causing it to tremble slightly in reciprocation to the whole new world of an anal orgasm. Well, partly also because having his internals ravaged just fucking hurts in the first place. However, the nasty snarl belies a more prominent feeling, one he never thought he'd be a part of.

For a worldly veteran, this man he clearly did not know of his own biology beyond the surface level. Dazzle is not the most gentle lovemaker, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of comfort between the agonizing cycle, peaking particularly at the apex of being penetrated. His cruelly stricken pleasure gland flung his emotions in all manner of directions. The rondo of prostatic compaction pushed him to the envelope of rewiring his thoughts, awakening memories of his engagement with Gondar; or rather, bits and pieces of what his body could remember.

'I... know this feeling...'

Almost as if manifesting his abstract thoughts into being, viscous liquid started to leak out from the tip of Lycan's swinging rod, lightly staining the ground underneath. As the delayed feedback of his bodily endorphins had finally caught up, bliss begins to meld seamlessly into the lasting soreness. Turns out the old prince's anatomy could very well take what he could dish out. Though it took a while, his body had discovered the hard way that he was a flexible switch.

Having its head squeezed so tightly by the aristocratic ass, Dazzle was for the first time throughout, threatened with imminent release. The ever growing warmth of Lycan's depths practically melted his manhood in its embrace. And melt it did, as he could feel his precum beginning to take place over the dried saliva. His secretions now coating Lycan's insides, Dazzle's residual magic began to emanate into Lycan, minutely restoring control over his figure. The boldened weight of his paralyzed muscles began to rescind ever so slightly, but not completely. As the clouds in Lycan's mind started to lift, so did his apprehension.

The wolfman's contoured insides began to expand further in acceptance of the big troll meat, as more of his nerves are restored in the process. Gradually, his increase in receptiveness to Dazzle's blessings reached even greater heights. The scholar barely slowed down in his rutting, despite edging closer to release. The only floodgates left are the lengthy sexual endurances afforded to his kind. Sweat-drenched bodies met in doggy style, both men are no more than animals at this point.

Hammering up and down in a purple blur, Lycan's orifice responded in kind by murmuring all manner of squelching sounds. The newly spelunked virgin is now practically a veteran sluthole, deftly airing out whenever it can in between the intensely deepening strokes. Dazzle's cock was practically married to the gruffly gripping pussy. All that was embedded in the moment was primal love between two men, packaged alongside a veritable trove of noisy slaps and the occasional grunts. 

As his insides grow more tainted by the darklight sperm, Lycan felt even closer to how he was before. Pure restorative energies of the Dezunites, sourced straight from the tap, began its timely debut. The straining burn of being pummeled came hand in hand with the most radiant of pleasures as more of Dazzles juices stared to brim with his primal power. Seeping across his dermals, Lycan could now sense the blades of grass grazing his planted fingertips. The rocky divider he'd been laying down on for the past hour made itself felt. And the jubilating bump of the troll's testicles against his own hardening sack was more heartfelt.

He had full control of his face this whole time, yet he could only maintain a listless, drooling look throughout. Like an atrophied creature nursed with sensory perception once more, he'd craved for as much stimuli as his body could purchase. Like the motion of the ocean, he let himself be carried away into a Nothlic dreamland. 

It takes a practiced body to accept such potent ordination from a Dezun priest however. Lycan's reverie was broken sooner than he figured, from an unfamiliar nauseum surrounding his chest. Not attuned for such innoculation of nothlic energies, part of his body was inflicted with the typical inversive effects of darklight; causing his nipples to leak a faint trace of manmilk. Fear overtaking his mind once more, Lycan's body reacted the only way it knew how against his administer; in shock and awe.

"Wha... unnatural freak... is this?..."

As the overdose of Dazzle's essences emptied itself out through Lycan's only feminine path, his mind refills once more to a heightened state. Addled and rattled by the stimulation, his body joins forth in absorbing all the Good Juju it could. A process not without stress and strain, his lupine ass tightened, giving the priest a sudden death grip. Mind temporarily emptied once more, he rode the torrent of pleasure to the end, panting languidly in his craving.

And the end did came. The acolyte was no stranger to a good relief, yet the kickback from this outpour recoiled unto him like no other.

The raspy exclamation came unabated, as did his 'sword in the stone'. Like long-dried adhesive, Dazzle's deeply embedded pole remains clinched in the unloading of many months' worth of abstinence. He came plenty enough for a celibate priest, but the intensity grew to uncomfortable levels within a couple of minutes, as the flood of spunk remained trapped with nowhere to exit.

Eventually, Lycan's inner muscles received the bulk of its ameliorating sperm, forcing much of Dazzle's to escape even deeper into his intestines. As most fertile trolls operate, the pent up priest unleashed even more of his breedstock as soon as he could feel more space to do so. The hole that refused to let go invariably consumed the gifts as it was given, without any regard for capacity, or lack thereof. 

Mouth agape and pupils upturned, the singular thought in Lycan's mind was to milk the syringe inserted in him for all he could. His body had acclimatized to such levels of unnatural fluid, becoming a temporary host to absorb every bit of Dazzle's offering. His nourished psyche brought about all sorts of minor reactions, yet the most noticeable is in his hardening penis. The previously steady droplets had grown trickle by trickle, gradually developing into a narrow shot of white. Sparesely firing in bursts in sync with his tightening ass, the rush of being sent into Nothlic nirvana eclipses his thoughts. In that periodic mental cleanse, the lusting curse's hold over his thoughts began to unravel itself. His thoughts were his once more; of Banehallow, heir to House Ambry.

With a triumphant howl, Lycan descends from his orgasmic high, however slowly it may take. Unwarranted as it may be, Dazzle started to panic as claustrophobia starts to set on his erection. His dick had been clamped down upon for a good few minutes after all. The vacuum tight seal surrounding his meat is beginning to slightly sore his still sensitive veins. As he wiggled out his freshly emptied genitals slowly; the moment its head pops out from the nobleman's hole, a viscous spurt barely escaped before it shut itself close. The untrimmed anus winked in tune to the bottom's ragged breathing, with Dazzle taking care not to admire his handiwork too closely. 

As Lycan's consciousness is brought back to earth, the adrenaline wore off far too quickly for his still recovering body. Immediately, the contents of his intestinal tract made itself apparent, bringing forth an excrutiating feeling of bloat.

Everything suddenly starts to hurt again, eliciting a pained whimper. With only the help of gravity-assisted meditative breathing, Lycan lifted his left hand to massage his stomach, with his other hand firmly clutching onto grass. His freshly closed hole now needed manual intervention, so as to relieve his bowels of all the excess liquid. There was nothing Dazzle could do; his afterglow bringing about arousal just from watching.

Being a literal lone wolf, it was uncomfortable enough for Lycan to be seen in such an uncompromising situation. Wild as he was, a highborn never loses their grandeur.

Yet the settling belly ache tells him that shame had no place here. He'd been sodomized while groveling atop a rubbled wall, for God's sakes. After swallowing some air (and his pride), Lycan motioned his hip downwards, spreading his knees to the extent of his flexibility, luckily pointed away from his disheveled pants. 

As the pressure sets into his entrance, Lycan's opening popped open with an unflattering belch, expelling a handful of Dazzle's baby batter; before it abruptly closed. 

Surprisingly, his ass didn't receive much of the magical aftercare. Twitching his eye to the sudden prickle, Lycan's knees almost gave up from the sudden stinging flash in his bottom. Oh, how it stung. Regrettably, much of Dazzle's healing powers was redirected to literally everywhere else but his bruised sphincter. Yet his stubbornness overpowered all discomfort, as he bared down once more. With much concentrated effort his reddened anus expands, sloshing out more of the milky goop that was pumped into him. The hairs lining Lycan's inner cheeks became laden with Dazzle's sap, both of the wet and dried variant. The impregnated ground soaks in spent darklight fluids, and the air roars with bubbling noises from the prince's flapping tunnel. So hostile was the nature of his deflowering, that his insides could be seen upon maximal dilation.

Still unmoved from his prostration, Lycan could only mewl softly from expelling the incompatible concoction. Notably, the half-beast performed all this while enduring still-searing soreness. It took all his energy to even remain barely upright. What little fortune granted to him was that all this took place behind a covering; sparing much of his nose the acquired scents. Though his backside is a furry garden of its own, anything that came from down there wouldn't exactly smell like roses.

Over time, there was barely any more jizz to push out, despite how hard he tried. Though his anatomy is now cleared of foreign objects, he still had to contend with the usual suspect after such a tiring ordeal; exhaustion. With the last of his strength used up, Lycan blanked out on the spot, chest-planted on the very same wall.

...

After some time had passed, the Dezunite is seen carrying his fully clothed 'partner' over his shoulder away from the glades, and towards a safer environment. In his prior pursuit, Dazzle identified more than a few hospitable structures to take shelter in. Carrying someone just about bigger than himself was no trouble at all for the physically emboldened scholar. In fact, so short was the trek that they arrived in minutes, to a shielded reside complete with a functioning door. Not many structures survived in the aftermath of what befell Slom, yet this humble shack offered more than enough clemency for its final heir.

Gently letting the prince down on a patch of untarnished wood flooring, Dazzle brandished the khakkara tucked to his side and channeled a small curative prayer. He knew it did the trick in accelerating Lycan's rest; the signs were subtle, but he saw the tells. Before continuing his journey to wherever, the satisfied troll got another good look at the handsome old man he 'conducted business' with.

"Oh, what a beauty! I might just fall in love with you, had we met under different circumstances," he mused on his own. 

"Hrm... I've done all I can for now," he continued, before standing up, ready as ever for his next destination.

"May the shadows keep you," amened the member of the Nothl order. His monologue ends there as Dazzle steps out of the protected enclave.

...

Moments after the priest had left the dilapidated building, Lycan's senses returned to him. Memories from the past few hours uncorked itself in an instant, bringing his body to full attention. The instant he saw the familiar decor and lack of presence however, it eased him in bringing his guard down. With a sound mind, he could feel once more his attunement to the flow of mana.

With a snap of his fingers, two wolves materialized to answer their master's call. No words neeeded to be exchanged between them for Lycan to comprehend that they hadn't learned of what transpired ever since he did the deed with Gondar. After sounding a nonverbal apology to his subjects for worrying them, Lycan dismissed his loyal brethren to ensure he'd have enough mana reserved for future threats. 

Merely a step later, a faint flaring of his muscles forced him to knees, and soon after on his sides again. Sitting his backside down was particularly troublesome. Peeking through the ceiling cracks, light had yet penetrated the surface of his locale. This meant that he wasn't asleep for too long. All he could do now was gather himself mentally until he could move freely again. Of course, this meant highlighting a particular event that just occurred hours ago. While it did knock him out of his hazy state, the means in which it was achieved was... not something he'd choose to ruminate over. Fortuitously, his violation was masked under the shade of dusk, allowing him to recover in solitude, with the knowledge of what transpired kept between him and that damn shady priest.

"Hragh... an embarrassment..." mulled Lycan as he mostly regretted even being consumed by lust in the first place. But things will only look up from here on out, as the post coital clarity renewed his mindset for the greater mission of avenging his kingdom.

"This wolf will howl again."