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They seemed to reach out with gaunt hands as if clawing for something to grab and take back to whatever realm it came from.\nStars glittered across the sky like a pile of scattered diamonds and cool air blew through the grassy hills and valleys. A sudden gust sent waves that flowed through, kicking up settled leaves and making the flowers sway.\nThe ground seemed to be copyimg the sky, what with the dark mass of endless grass dotted with bright spots of flowers that resembled the hundreds of stars.\nA large foot crushed a dragon tongue as its owner dashed by, a large hulking mass that sprinted as if racing the wind. Panting ever so slightly, it sped by the shadows of the trees on all fours. It huffed and bashed through the foliage like a runaway horse drawn carriage, leaving claw marks on the soft soils.\nIt slowed down and stopped, sniffing the air and growled, teeth bared. Saliva trailed down from its jaw and dripped down, mixing with blood that glistened on its black fur. Taking slow steps, it moved slowly to a clearing where a pond was.\nAs it stepped into the moonlight, the werewolf revealed itself, hunched over and keeping a lookout, ears strained to listen for evem the slightest rustle or the snap of branches in deadfalls\nSnarling, it stumbled slightly and put it hands to its head, hitting against a tree. It shrunk slowly, the effects wearing off as it slowly reverted back, falling over. Claws receded back to hands and its ears and hunch shifted, the transformation back finally finishing. It growled again, as if in pain, but it came out sounding weaker and weaker before exhaling softly.\nThe argonian groaned and laid back, feeling the soreness in every muscle from his neck to his legs, curling his toes and stretching. He took in heavy breaths, almost wishing he could take the air and stuff it down his hungry lungs whilst recovering from sprinting.\nDespite all the pain, he could only sport a grin as he recovered from the adrenaline rush of primal power whilst on that form. The might he possesed in his claws that could probably send several guards flying from a single punch, though he would never ever want to do that, the wind that blasted at him and ran through his fur when he sped down hills like a charging bull, or the howl he could give to even send the bears, powerful as they were, running for their lives. He had even had a hefty meal from eating one of them.\nThe argonian laughed softly to himself as he felt the soreness fade, he loved this form that he chanced upon, wiping the blood splatter from his chest and the tiny crimson streaks from his mouth. He ought to have eaten much cleaner with that bear, retching at the aftertaste of raw meat in his throat.\nHis briefs, surviving changing from wolf form and back, were a dark red and had a yellow waistband. He got them from Radiant Raiments, and were merely stretched slightly. He didn’t really care that he was naked save for underwear, knowing that changing to wolf always resulted in tearing clothes.\nWiping and sweeping away the various shreds of his clothing, he tossed them to the floor, watching them drift and falls like a pile of torn ribbons as he headed to the pond up ahead.\nHis last job was a labourer for the Nords, working at a mill and helping with the lumber. That gave him a well built physique and with defined muscles like that of the statues made by artisans.\nHe still hated the Nords, overworking him and always giving him shifty eyes and always having a disapproving frown whenever he came up to them. They could have been laughing about last night’s drink at the tavern and their faces would instantly shift upon seeing him. He hated them right back.\nScooping water, he drank and washed out the taste of bear blood from his mouth, gurgling and spitting it onto the ground beside him, continuing to drink and quench his thirst.\nWater meandered down his scaly muscled hands, dripping from his elbows and dotting the ground as the adrenaline slowly faded from him. He would need to sleep and rest after an exhilerating run through the night.\nHe had scared a few guards and bashed through one of the fences of the farms nearby, but he didn’t care. The Nords were surely rich enough to pay to get an entirely new fence erected up. He didn’t need them anymore, not when he was way more powerful then them. Taking big gulps of water, he finished and sighed, looking about for a place to sleep.\nThen he saw the white misty aura appear and envelope him, looking like a fog had spread through the forest. His eyes widened with shock as he turned to run, only to feel a great unseen force hold all four of his limbs, making him struggle.\nIt slowly carried him into the air, much to the argonian’s horror. It had to be some mage nearby trying some spell, or maybe someone after his life. Perhaps someone knew he was part werewolf and wanted to kill him, he knew the Silver Hand would. He had to get out, and writhed and pulled, however futile it was.\nThe force suddenly slid up his legs and begin to hold and cup his bulge, making him groan. It continued in this manner, shock and fear mixing into the maelstrom of thoughts in his head.\nThe mist took the form of tendrils and kept on fondling the argonian’s bulge, another joining in and stroking from another angle, making him moan loudly.\nStruggling in his bonds, his bulge began to soak with pre, his jerks and struggles all powerless before the ethereal force.\nA misty appendage moved and struck him square between the eyes, filling his mind with numbness as his senses dulled, time seeimngly slowing before him. His mind too seemed to become hazy, as if he had a bottle of ale too many. But this felt even more powerful, like a trance.\n“Auugghh…..”\nNo longer could he say proper words, for only grunts and moans escaped from his throat. Drool trickled down and dripped off his chin as he entered a hypnotic state, seeing the white glowing mist before him.\nBut yet in the back of his mind, he recognized this aura. He had felt this before, and it could not have been casted by any illusion practicing mage, however skilled. It was from a primal force, a more mighty power, a daedra, and he knew it.\nThis great daedra was formless and manifested as the misty tentacled beast that continued to pleasure him, yet he felt its aura radiate from its very being. The energies in himself felt the primal power of the werewolf waking once more in him, and finally, he managed to say the prince’s name.\n“Hircine…..”\nLike a bolt from the blue, the tentacles triggered a climax in him and orgasmic pleasure surged through his loins in great mighty waves. Argonian seed spurted out and soaked his briefs, turning them burgundy at the tip and dripping onto the stone ground. The material seemed to let out long trails of it as he kept shooting string of jizz, his mind fully submitting before the power that held him.\n“You seem to enjoy this primal power, you bask in it, and revel in the blessing of the hunt whenever you can….”\nHircine’s voice seemed to thunder in his head and yet feel soft like a whisper. The argonian could see the misty tendrils waving about and further restraining him, pleasuring him all the while. His moans became filled with wanting graons and pants as he felt his mind give way.\n“Now as a price….you must submit. Let your mind truly feel that raw might and instinct that truly makes you a hunter.”\nThe tendril that seeped into his mind begin to awaken something, like roots that began to slowly reach out into the depths of his psyche. He felt a desire, a burning want inside of him as his lust grew again. His moans became more and more wild, as his train of thought became one with the hunt.\n“You have that power to be one of my next champions, to be one with this form….but you need to give in to the wild….”\nThe argonian felt pleasure rise again, the heat in him burning up as he reached a second climax. He grunted hard and twitched, jerking about whilst more of his seed soaked the briefs and seeped out. The jizz dripped and oozed from the underwear and splattered the ground, the prince seemingly pleased. His mind was fully submitted to this power, and as the tendrils let him go and vanished, he groaned as he moved a hand down to his crotch and felt himself. The warmth beneath felt good, and he felt the heat in him bubble like a boiling pot. It was dormant but it would rise and spread like flames in his very being, the heat that animals had, the heat that now resided in his body. He found a craving need for the blood of game, and the need to dominate the land as his own.\nHis mind was split in two, with the beast side fully taking root. He had to mark terrritory, claim places as his, to hunt and feast. Soon the animals would know his prescence, as he roamed at night, spraying his seed through the soaked briefs he wore. The now burgundy material easily let some jizz seep through, dripping onto trees and rocks, making the place as his own. His smell of seed emenated from his underwear, glistening in the moonlight as small drips dotted the forest ground.\nThe non-beast side of his mind knew he had to still tend to basic needs, but that would be for daybreak. He now lived for the hunt, for the thrill, and Daedric Prince was pleased. ", "description_bbcode_parsed": "Original date posted on Fur Affinity: Apr 15th, 2016 11:34 PM

Moonlight washed over the lands in a cloudless dark blue expanse, drawing long foreboding shadows from the trees that dotted the plains. They seemed to reach out with gaunt hands as if clawing for something to grab and take back to whatever realm it came from.
Stars glittered across the sky like a pile of scattered diamonds and cool air blew through the grassy hills and valleys. A sudden gust sent waves that flowed through, kicking up settled leaves and making the flowers sway.
The ground seemed to be copyimg the sky, what with the dark mass of endless grass dotted with bright spots of flowers that resembled the hundreds of stars.
A large foot crushed a dragon tongue as its owner dashed by, a large hulking mass that sprinted as if racing the wind. Panting ever so slightly, it sped by the shadows of the trees on all fours. It huffed and bashed through the foliage like a runaway horse drawn carriage, leaving claw marks on the soft soils.
It slowed down and stopped, sniffing the air and growled, teeth bared. Saliva trailed down from its jaw and dripped down, mixing with blood that glistened on its black fur. Taking slow steps, it moved slowly to a clearing where a pond was.
As it stepped into the moonlight, the werewolf revealed itself, hunched over and keeping a lookout, ears strained to listen for evem the slightest rustle or the snap of branches in deadfalls
Snarling, it stumbled slightly and put it hands to its head, hitting against a tree. It shrunk slowly, the effects wearing off as it slowly reverted back, falling over. Claws receded back to hands and its ears and hunch shifted, the transformation back finally finishing. It growled again, as if in pain, but it came out sounding weaker and weaker before exhaling softly.
The argonian groaned and laid back, feeling the soreness in every muscle from his neck to his legs, curling his toes and stretching. He took in heavy breaths, almost wishing he could take the air and stuff it down his hungry lungs whilst recovering from sprinting.
Despite all the pain, he could only sport a grin as he recovered from the adrenaline rush of primal power whilst on that form. The might he possesed in his claws that could probably send several guards flying from a single punch, though he would never ever want to do that, the wind that blasted at him and ran through his fur when he sped down hills like a charging bull, or the howl he could give to even send the bears, powerful as they were, running for their lives. He had even had a hefty meal from eating one of them.
The argonian laughed softly to himself as he felt the soreness fade, he loved this form that he chanced upon, wiping the blood splatter from his chest and the tiny crimson streaks from his mouth. He ought to have eaten much cleaner with that bear, retching at the aftertaste of raw meat in his throat.
His briefs, surviving changing from wolf form and back, were a dark red and had a yellow waistband. He got them from Radiant Raiments, and were merely stretched slightly. He didn’t really care that he was naked save for underwear, knowing that changing to wolf always resulted in tearing clothes.
Wiping and sweeping away the various shreds of his clothing, he tossed them to the floor, watching them drift and falls like a pile of torn ribbons as he headed to the pond up ahead.
His last job was a labourer for the Nords, working at a mill and helping with the lumber. That gave him a well built physique and with defined muscles like that of the statues made by artisans.
He still hated the Nords, overworking him and always giving him shifty eyes and always having a disapproving frown whenever he came up to them. They could have been laughing about last night’s drink at the tavern and their faces would instantly shift upon seeing him. He hated them right back.
Scooping water, he drank and washed out the taste of bear blood from his mouth, gurgling and spitting it onto the ground beside him, continuing to drink and quench his thirst.
Water meandered down his scaly muscled hands, dripping from his elbows and dotting the ground as the adrenaline slowly faded from him. He would need to sleep and rest after an exhilerating run through the night.
He had scared a few guards and bashed through one of the fences of the farms nearby, but he didn’t care. The Nords were surely rich enough to pay to get an entirely new fence erected up. He didn’t need them anymore, not when he was way more powerful then them. Taking big gulps of water, he finished and sighed, looking about for a place to sleep.
Then he saw the white misty aura appear and envelope him, looking like a fog had spread through the forest. His eyes widened with shock as he turned to run, only to feel a great unseen force hold all four of his limbs, making him struggle.
It slowly carried him into the air, much to the argonian’s horror. It had to be some mage nearby trying some spell, or maybe someone after his life. Perhaps someone knew he was part werewolf and wanted to kill him, he knew the Silver Hand would. He had to get out, and writhed and pulled, however futile it was.
The force suddenly slid up his legs and begin to hold and cup his bulge, making him groan. It continued in this manner, shock and fear mixing into the maelstrom of thoughts in his head.
The mist took the form of tendrils and kept on fondling the argonian’s bulge, another joining in and stroking from another angle, making him moan loudly.
Struggling in his bonds, his bulge began to soak with pre, his jerks and struggles all powerless before the ethereal force.
A misty appendage moved and struck him square between the eyes, filling his mind with numbness as his senses dulled, time seeimngly slowing before him. His mind too seemed to become hazy, as if he had a bottle of ale too many. But this felt even more powerful, like a trance.
“Auugghh…..”
No longer could he say proper words, for only grunts and moans escaped from his throat. Drool trickled down and dripped off his chin as he entered a hypnotic state, seeing the white glowing mist before him.
But yet in the back of his mind, he recognized this aura. He had felt this before, and it could not have been casted by any illusion practicing mage, however skilled. It was from a primal force, a more mighty power, a daedra, and he knew it.
This great daedra was formless and manifested as the misty tentacled beast that continued to pleasure him, yet he felt its aura radiate from its very being. The energies in himself felt the primal power of the werewolf waking once more in him, and finally, he managed to say the prince’s name.
“Hircine…..”
Like a bolt from the blue, the tentacles triggered a climax in him and orgasmic pleasure surged through his loins in great mighty waves. Argonian seed spurted out and soaked his briefs, turning them burgundy at the tip and dripping onto the stone ground. The material seemed to let out long trails of it as he kept shooting string of jizz, his mind fully submitting before the power that held him.
“You seem to enjoy this primal power, you bask in it, and revel in the blessing of the hunt whenever you can….”
Hircine’s voice seemed to thunder in his head and yet feel soft like a whisper. The argonian could see the misty tendrils waving about and further restraining him, pleasuring him all the while. His moans became filled with wanting graons and pants as he felt his mind give way.
“Now as a price….you must submit. Let your mind truly feel that raw might and instinct that truly makes you a hunter.”
The tendril that seeped into his mind begin to awaken something, like roots that began to slowly reach out into the depths of his psyche. He felt a desire, a burning want inside of him as his lust grew again. His moans became more and more wild, as his train of thought became one with the hunt.
“You have that power to be one of my next champions, to be one with this form….but you need to give in to the wild….”
The argonian felt pleasure rise again, the heat in him burning up as he reached a second climax. He grunted hard and twitched, jerking about whilst more of his seed soaked the briefs and seeped out. The jizz dripped and oozed from the underwear and splattered the ground, the prince seemingly pleased. His mind was fully submitted to this power, and as the tendrils let him go and vanished, he groaned as he moved a hand down to his crotch and felt himself. The warmth beneath felt good, and he felt the heat in him bubble like a boiling pot. It was dormant but it would rise and spread like flames in his very being, the heat that animals had, the heat that now resided in his body. He found a craving need for the blood of game, and the need to dominate the land as his own.
His mind was split in two, with the beast side fully taking root. He had to mark terrritory, claim places as his, to hunt and feast. Soon the animals would know his prescence, as he roamed at night, spraying his seed through the soaked briefs he wore. The now burgundy material easily let some jizz seep through, dripping onto trees and rocks, making the place as his own. His smell of seed emenated from his underwear, glistening in the moonlight as small drips dotted the forest ground.
The non-beast side of his mind knew he had to still tend to basic needs, but that would be for daybreak. He now lived for the hunt, for the thrill, and Daedric Prince was pleased. ", "writing": "", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "", "pools_count": 0, "title": "Totem of Lust", "deleted": "f", "public": "t", "mimetype": "image/png", "pagecount": "1", "rating_id": "2", "rating_name": "Adult", "ratings": [ { "content_tag_id": "4", "name": "Sexual Themes", "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal", "rating_id": "2" } ], "submission_type_id": "1", "type_name": "Picture/Pinup", "guest_block": "t", "friends_only": "f", "comments_count": "0", "views": "65" }