Seeding Kinks

"Wha… , What do you think you are doing N'Ïrk?!". Dyll'Phá questions the young man, as he relaxedly replies. "Getting ready for my Double Blowjob".

"You don't need to lose your pants for that!".

*Oh*. "You want them (Da'Heyliá and Bräzzeya) to pull my partner in crime through the gap of my zipper like if it were a convict?. That it is not my preferred style, but if that makes it easier for both, sure thing, «Come here and give me ahead»…".

"What are you talking about?!". Interrupts Dyll'Phá, her heart beating fast because N'Ïrk continues opening up his pants, letting the black boxer almost in full display.

"The Blowjob Nectarine Escort. Or you really don't know what it is?".

"Of course i know!. Is a kiss that leaves a mark in the neck". She remarks, pointing at the body part. "The Neck…".

{Adorable. Though, she is not entirely wrong, a Novice Cocksucker can scrap the neck of the shaft, or even the head with her teeth…}

*Hahaha*. Laughs Káth'Dria with the cute inexperience of Dyll'Phá. "That is just a little «Hickey»…". She confess, whispering the real answer to the ear of the Nectarine Escort. "Your pretty little mouth around N'Ïrk's manhood. That is a Blowjob…".

The sultry purr of Káth'Dria is distracting for Dyll'Phá, but insufficient to not imagine herself, performing such impudent act.

With the Nectarine Escort completely stupefied, Káth'Dria is the one taking the reigns of the situation, gesturing a nervous Da'Heyliá to come closer.

Simultaneously, the Half Tarzön extends her right hand, scratching Bräzzeya's chin, spiting annoyance in the prideful Jaguaress, as Both Species have a long lasting grudge.

After all, the Tarzöns are also known as «The Black Lions», a funny analogy, considering there are only females, hence, they should be called «The Black Lionesses».

Weirdly enough, no one does that, even they avoid to call themselves like that, as if it were a taboo, or a very bad omen.

"Do you want to start alone, and get accustomed to what you are going to worship now on «Mottled Pussycat»?".

Bräzzeya growls at the Nickname she is labeled by Káth'Dria, making evident that both had a dispute, and another ongoing bet, aside the one known by the rest of the competitors.

"Not answering Mottled Pussycat?. It doesn't matter. I bet you know we are running out of time, so it's better if you hurry up".

The Matronizing tone employed by the Half Tarzön only exasperates Bräzzeya, who slaps Káth'Dria's arm with the back of her hand, reducing the distance, and standing a step away from N'Ïrk's body.

"What did you dish out this time Glutton Gobbler?". Asks the young man, observing the proud posture of Káth'Dria. "I win a Feisty Sex Slave for you…".

"For us…". She corrects quickly, stepping behind Bräzzeya, tugging down the Jaguaress's blouse, freeing the large firm breasts, revealing stiff black nipples that protrude tall and might, seeking attention of any onlooker.

Her defiant orange eyes meet N'Ïrk's, he has his face wrapped in amusement and hunger at sighting the Jaguaress's sensuous silhouette.

She has a toned frame that doesn't lose her womanly benefits or her femininity, and N'Ïrk has now absolute power to command over Bräzzeya.

Displeased with the outcome, she changes her attitude, showing a lot of combativeness, and feral instincts, trying to challenge the man in front of her.

What a gruesome mistake, because the next thing N'Ïrk does, is putting his hands on the Jaguaress's shoulders, forcing her down, and staying on her knees with the assistance of the Tyrant's Grasp blades, turning into barriers that lock the female's legs from the calves, impeding any possible attempt to lift or stand on her own.

"Is that the only thing you can do?". Bräzzeya says contemptuously, her feistiness bordering delusion. "This Half Tarzön holds you in such high regard… , But without your «Artifact», you are meaningless, and utterly unworthy of respect".

*Jhumph*. N'Ïrk mocks with a calm snort and a playful smirk, dispelling the floating barriers, freeing Bräzzeya's legs while the Tyrant's Grasp pass from it's gauntlets form, to the forearm protections.

N'Ïrk walks to the side, his pants still half opened and starting to slide down. "Come to me, and show me what you got".

The Jaguaress scoffs, sure of N'Ïrk not being a melee combatant. He excels at the usage of Empiric Energy, and for remarkable that his physique may be, his Species and Evolution are a limitation that makes him appear to fall short, if he is directly compared to Bräzzeya's pure bloodline.

"You will regret this N'Ïrk, and once you are beaten black and blue, crying on the floor, you are going to cancel your engagement with Niveilia, so she can leave the Preppers and join the Sadrin Fraternity".

"Changing the Fraternity, is a decision that compels «My Wifey» alone, but once that you are breathless over the floor, you are going to wear a collar that alludes to the fact that you are «My Bitch»".

Bräzzeya gets extremly angry, it is common sense that cats and dogs do not get along, so anyone should avoid to mix them up.

But the idea of being collared and leashed around, is a huge insult in itself, nowhere close as to being called a Bitch, much less someone's Bitch.

With a savage roar, the Jaguaress's lunges forward, mirrored by N'Ïrk, dashing swiftly and landing his left knee on the female's stomach.

The strike is so hard that the Emeneld can cope up with the hit, losing stability, bending inwards and taking out the oxygen out of Bräzzeya's lungs.

Breathless, she bends over with the powerful blow, and before she can do anything else, N'Ïrk has already lowerd his boxers, letting his erect virility elevate like a mast, while ha clasps his hands on the Maiden's head, mercilessly plugging the gasping mouth of Bräzzeya, but delving further down into the unexplored oral cavity.

The invasive intrusion of N'Ïrk's cock doesn't has the slightest consideration for the novice Jaguaress's, she doesn't gives respect, then she wouldn't receive it neither. So the young man has reduced her to a mere Fleshlight…