DudeThrill.com
The mountain temple was silent. Only the low hum of ancient magic vibrated through the air. Aelin, the last fertile oracle of the High Elves, stood alone before the breeding altar. Her silver-white hair cascaded over bare shoulders, her body draped in translucent silk that clung to every curve. The fabric didn’t hide — it revealed.
She wasn’t here to pray.
She was here to be filled.
The High Council had chosen her for the sacred rite. Centuries had passed since an oracle had successfully carried divine seed. The survival of her bloodline, of her power, now depended on this night. She was nervous. But she was ready.
The guardian entered. He was not elven. He was summoned — a creature of muscle, dark eyes, and raw virility, carved by the gods themselves. His cock was already thick and pulsing between his legs, glistening with precum. Aelin trembled, not with fear, but with anticipation.
He said nothing.
He didn’t need to.
He approached her, claws brushing the silk aside, baring her glowing skin inch by inch. Her nipples were already hard. Her thighs parted instinctively, welcoming his touch.
When he pushed her down onto the altar stone, her legs spread wide, and her cunt, pink and slick, glistened in the temple light. She reached for him, hands trembling. Her voice was a whisper.
"Breed me. Fill me. Make me worthy."
He growled — low and animalistic — and mounted her in one motion. His cock slid in slowly at first, stretching her, claiming her. She gasped, eyes wide, back arching off the altar. Her moans echoed off the marble columns, blending with the hum of ancient runes.
His thrusts grew harder, deeper. The altar began to vibrate beneath her. With each pump, her body responded, juices flooding, hips lifting to meet him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and begged for more. Louder. Rougher.
"Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop."
Her words turned into cries as his cock slammed into her womb. He reached between them, rubbing her clit with his clawed thumb until she exploded around him, shaking violently. Her orgasm poured down his shaft, soaking the altar, but he didn’t pause.
He flipped her, pulling her onto her knees, ass high, face pressed to the stone. He entered her again, now deeper, rougher. The sound of flesh slapping echoed through the chamber. She screamed as he fucked her open, her pussy drooling with every thrust.
Her second orgasm hit fast. Then a third. Her voice became hoarse, her breath ragged. She didn’t care. Her only purpose was to be bred.
And he was ready.
With a final growl, he drove in hard, balls slapping her soaked clit. His cock twitched, pulsed — and then he came.
Hot seed blasted into her womb, flooding her. Thick ropes filled her again and again, her body convulsing with every pulse. She could feel it inside her, coating her walls, leaking out from her swollen entrance. She collapsed, trembling, dripping, conquered.
But the rite wasn’t over.
A second guardian approached.
Aelin’s eyes fluttered open as the new figure stepped forward — this one larger, horned, glowing with infernal heat. Her body shivered in anticipation. Her hole was still gaping, seed spilling down her thighs, but she wanted more.
She turned onto her back and spread her legs again.
“I’m not full yet,” she whispered.
The second guardian took her face in his clawed hand, tilted it upward, and shoved his cock past her lips. She gagged, throat bulging as he pushed deeper, her eyes watering, nose pressed against his skin. But she didn’t resist. She moaned.
The first guardian lifted her hips again and entered her pussy once more. Double-penetrated, used from both ends, Aelin moaned louder than ever, her voice vibrating around the cock in her throat.
She came again. And again. Her body broke into spasms, controlled only by the rhythm of two divine cocks pounding her open, drowning her in hot, sticky pleasure.
Hours passed. Her belly bulged slightly, full of cum. Her face and chest were glazed. Her voice was reduced to soft, whimpering pleas. She didn’t know how many times she had orgasmed. She didn’t know how many times she had been filled.
All she knew was that the altar had accepted her.
And she never wanted it to stop.
The final guardian approached — the one known only as The Seedbearer. Taller than the others. Silent. His presence alone made her pussy clench with need. He watched her for a moment, then stepped forward.
Without a word, he lifted her limp body into his arms and slid inside her with one slow, complete thrust. She screamed. Her legs locked around his waist. Her body melted into his as he began to move.
He didn’t fuck her.
He claimed her.
Every thrust was brutal, beautiful. She felt her soul shake, her blood ignite. When he came, it wasn’t just semen. It was magic. It filled her deeper than before. Her womb glowed, pulsing with new life.
And in that moment, she knew.
She was no longer just an oracle.
She was a vessel of the divine.
The rite was complete.
Her body, her soul, her sex — all marked by the gods.
She would carry their legacy.
And she would beg for more.
She wasn’t here to pray.
She was here to be filled.
The High Council had chosen her for the sacred rite. Centuries had passed since an oracle had successfully carried divine seed. The survival of her bloodline, of her power, now depended on this night. She was nervous. But she was ready.
The guardian entered. He was not elven. He was summoned — a creature of muscle, dark eyes, and raw virility, carved by the gods themselves. His cock was already thick and pulsing between his legs, glistening with precum. Aelin trembled, not with fear, but with anticipation.
He said nothing.
He didn’t need to.
He approached her, claws brushing the silk aside, baring her glowing skin inch by inch. Her nipples were already hard. Her thighs parted instinctively, welcoming his touch.
When he pushed her down onto the altar stone, her legs spread wide, and her cunt, pink and slick, glistened in the temple light. She reached for him, hands trembling. Her voice was a whisper.
"Breed me. Fill me. Make me worthy."
He growled — low and animalistic — and mounted her in one motion. His cock slid in slowly at first, stretching her, claiming her. She gasped, eyes wide, back arching off the altar. Her moans echoed off the marble columns, blending with the hum of ancient runes.
His thrusts grew harder, deeper. The altar began to vibrate beneath her. With each pump, her body responded, juices flooding, hips lifting to meet him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and begged for more. Louder. Rougher.
"Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop."
Her words turned into cries as his cock slammed into her womb. He reached between them, rubbing her clit with his clawed thumb until she exploded around him, shaking violently. Her orgasm poured down his shaft, soaking the altar, but he didn’t pause.
He flipped her, pulling her onto her knees, ass high, face pressed to the stone. He entered her again, now deeper, rougher. The sound of flesh slapping echoed through the chamber. She screamed as he fucked her open, her pussy drooling with every thrust.
Her second orgasm hit fast. Then a third. Her voice became hoarse, her breath ragged. She didn’t care. Her only purpose was to be bred.
And he was ready.
With a final growl, he drove in hard, balls slapping her soaked clit. His cock twitched, pulsed — and then he came.
Hot seed blasted into her womb, flooding her. Thick ropes filled her again and again, her body convulsing with every pulse. She could feel it inside her, coating her walls, leaking out from her swollen entrance. She collapsed, trembling, dripping, conquered.
But the rite wasn’t over.
A second guardian approached.
Aelin’s eyes fluttered open as the new figure stepped forward — this one larger, horned, glowing with infernal heat. Her body shivered in anticipation. Her hole was still gaping, seed spilling down her thighs, but she wanted more.
She turned onto her back and spread her legs again.
“I’m not full yet,” she whispered.
The second guardian took her face in his clawed hand, tilted it upward, and shoved his cock past her lips. She gagged, throat bulging as he pushed deeper, her eyes watering, nose pressed against his skin. But she didn’t resist. She moaned.
The first guardian lifted her hips again and entered her pussy once more. Double-penetrated, used from both ends, Aelin moaned louder than ever, her voice vibrating around the cock in her throat.
She came again. And again. Her body broke into spasms, controlled only by the rhythm of two divine cocks pounding her open, drowning her in hot, sticky pleasure.
Hours passed. Her belly bulged slightly, full of cum. Her face and chest were glazed. Her voice was reduced to soft, whimpering pleas. She didn’t know how many times she had orgasmed. She didn’t know how many times she had been filled.
All she knew was that the altar had accepted her.
And she never wanted it to stop.
The final guardian approached — the one known only as The Seedbearer. Taller than the others. Silent. His presence alone made her pussy clench with need. He watched her for a moment, then stepped forward.
Without a word, he lifted her limp body into his arms and slid inside her with one slow, complete thrust. She screamed. Her legs locked around his waist. Her body melted into his as he began to move.
He didn’t fuck her.
He claimed her.
Every thrust was brutal, beautiful. She felt her soul shake, her blood ignite. When he came, it wasn’t just semen. It was magic. It filled her deeper than before. Her womb glowed, pulsing with new life.
And in that moment, she knew.
She was no longer just an oracle.
She was a vessel of the divine.
The rite was complete.
Her body, her soul, her sex — all marked by the gods.
She would carry their legacy.
And she would beg for more.
