Hunted (Open)

Hunters. Their fame as tamers and destroyers of all beasts was renowned, and their reputation befit them well. He had lead them to the hidden valley, through its maze of paths, and just as he had instructed them to, they had felled the herd – taking the precious and rare materials that were typical of his species; horns, pelts and hairs of the unicorns. In exchange for his survival, the humans had asked a few things of him, and now, as the night grew across the sky, their camp roared with a blooming fire and the roasting flesh of the slain.

They had roped, bridled and chained him to a post which stood a distance away from their company. A wrapped cloth bound aside the thick of his tail, and the bit in his mouth made him thrash against the bonds to test their strength. Regardless, he intended on behaving, and wasn't about to second guess the humans. In exchange for his life, to be the only survivor of the herd, he had broken the horn that crowned him as part of the species and fought – blood wet the trails of his mane, his very irises stained by the act against his own kin.

The bridle that rested over his head was only a pretense, a toy. His own sense of humour, and he had discussed with the brutal humans to become their steed, but was about to stab them in the back – as soon as his horn returned. They were all a part of his ritual, and now, it remained to be seen who would fall to his magic that needed no wand, the wiles of the sorcerous, the glossy jet of his hide silvered by the moon. The equine glanced about his prey provokingly, the song of his voice beckoning those that listened.

The humans were a force uncontested for their dominance, their tales spread through the lands as flame by heralds praising their bravery, but now the surviving knew their weakness; drunken stupor that would follow a victory, even in the surrounds of the wilds. None appeared to have taken watch or anything resembling guard duty, and it was this that made them no more than leaves strewn about, left to nature's temperament.

Minutes crept into hours, and the stallion considered taking rest whilst it would be available. The training to introduce him as steed was sure to begin the next day, and whilst restrained, nothing could be attempted to intrigue the attention of comatose barbarians. Not without waking all of them. Besides, an uproar was not his style or preference. So once the forest's quiet was disturbed, a single ear flicked to catch the direction of the approach, muzzle turning as a voice was heard.

Eyes slitted, the wicked amused by such a choice of words. Sarcasm was favoured, it showed a wit, and his restless mind stirred by the daring interaction; though he may appear harmless hornless and lashed, anyone taking the company of hunters should be heavily informed that all beasts, docile or unbroken, were armed. The fearless though deferential nature appealed to him and a soft, contented exhale gusted in response to the strokes, the compliment encouraging a return.

“Such a charming human,” the rebel commended, pacing towards the addressed, his stride restricted by the chain which kept them a few inches apart. Hooves cut into the earth, muscles locking beneath pelt as he strained to uproot the post, but the hunters were practiced in their skills and had not constructed it halfheartedly. It wasn't going to budge. Frustration released by sharp inhale, but his posture relaxed as the other was slyly regarded. “And you have my interest. Why not come closer...?”

Lest the words seem too dubious, the unicorn bowed his head in a summoning gesture, the satiny forelock resting before his eyes and muting their ominous aspect, bound tail flexing as hind limbs spread in invitation for proximity, to tempt the human's gaze to velvety flesh. The male's touches and appreciative attention had aroused him slightly, the exposed cleft nestled between his thighs puckering against the cold night's air, breath misting as smoke before his features.

This one was definitely unalike the kin who slumbered, their minds consumed by the thoughts of trade and the gold the spoils would bring. Despite their placid, rested appearance, they had threatened any misbehaviour and tricks with the severing of his tail, and to make sure it was not taken as jest, the cloth woven across it as bandages to wound would make the task easy. Their rough hands meant it was uncomfortable at best and the constant pressure irritated the skin around it, and he couldn't flick away the pestering insects which would occasionally settle on his lower legs.

Many were surprised that the mythical beasts knew the shared tongue of humans, to communicate with voice – it was an uncommon knowledge. Some chose to hide or refuse it, as so often they supposed this was what kept the two-legged creatures as entirely superior. This one must have been outside that generalisation, as he had not even made for approach with a weapon drawn.

A satisfied tone once the male obliged the request, sable coat pricking at the contact and sparks of pleasure running along his skin in response, the sheathe beneath his torso becoming rigid as the scrotal massage could not be resisted. Taking a step backwards, his fetlocks placed either side of the human, sculpted hind pushing at the other's body with a teasing force. “Very suave, you read my mind. Have you done this before?”

He was not yet to reveal the intention of his frolicking, but if it was questioned, then the unicorn saw no reason to have to lie. Perhaps this one would not decide to attack, as it appeared the interest was mutual.  

The equine had not expected any of their kind to be gentle, as the warrior stereotype typically did not permit the phrase when used in description. Yet its use was more than appropriate here.

The width of his charcoal body fit insistently against the human's, a heavy breath audible in reaction to the adept touches that explored numerous of his most most sensitive areas, shivers following the path of the motions, the heated organ stiffening under the persistent attention that daringly taunted him.

He remained patient, silently appreciating the caresses, tremoring, thick strands gathered around the bandaging as it was eased down a little, the smooth flesh of his dock flexing under the stimulation and the close presence of a thumb causing the orifice to contract in reflex. Liquid began to collect at his sex, urged by those gradual strokes, “I want your seed,” the chain pulled against so his peripheral vision could meet the other's face.

This was often where the prey might realise this was beyond a simple game, but the pleasure would not be his own alone; “I will grant you a wish if you satisfy me.” So the horn would spiral anew in the morrow, and the magician could once more brandish his wand. “If you do, my horn will regrow, and if I do not have this of you, it will take a month in the least to reach its glory.”

There was always the chance there was no intention of the other to assist, of course, but the impish stallion was enjoying the attention, “this is not a stance I take for everyone...”

The unicorn had never been with the spellcraft which was named telepathy, but if in this moment it was so, then he would have smirked in contentment. Those warriors, perhaps, had wanted to just leave him in this vulnerable position to remind him of his place in their bargaining, of their ownership, and not as the regal creature that nature had intended of him. That this one respected and understood that it wasn't an amusing subject, was more than simply favourable; many could have made it a point of mockery or not believed at all. The caution displayed was similar to one who would enter a cave without torchlight, treading very carefully, and it continued to relax him, even as the delicate, hairless skin was toyed with, the dock urged to twist in reaction to the unfamiliar sensation.

He was curious as to what the human would decide upon. A wish would have its boundaries, and not everything could be included, but of course, the sweet little details were not important unless requested. “I am not aware,” a low reply, ears swerving against the breeze as he contemplated. “But knowing this kind of spell... I have to ingest it. Though I do not know your thoughts of this,” as the idea could be seen as repulsive; the mouth of a creature was often cautioned as unsavoury, even though almost all species were of that same description.  

The dusky equine tossed his head to observe the human's continuing touches, able to feel them more than what could be seen, a sly regard to his gaze, “you like that part of me, don't you?” Without the shield of the bonds, he would have had to summon a greater will of restraint, something of a challenge when the human remained so thoroughly attentive. The thought of pinning this one was definitely appetising, though the ample length which steadily revealed at those hands was more than enough to cause harm to the body which surely had never seen alike before.

Sometimes, it would only take a little convincing for the accompanying to bend to will. Other times there was never compromise, and the unicorn was seen as too much a trickster, too untrustworthy. So many would do anything for a wish, to receive the mythical creature's favour; this human proved not all were the same. It would be soon now that the other's efforts overcame him.

The girth typical of his species was at its limits, as the stranger had no task giving the equine gratification; he was not familiar with the particular fondling that hands could give, and it was the newness that had a specifically intense effect.

A hind-leg drove at the earth, the hoof tearing up the soil and his restricted tail curving, “I do,” the tone quite forced, concentration shattering into pleasure at the movements, briefly interrupted once the human's position changed to one more suitable, a loud neigh sounding that might possibly stir those resting at the camp. The dark and sleek flesh teased relentlessly began to surge, “I'll feed you first!” Exclaiming, that exquisite wetness just enough to push him over the edge, the engulf of his member coaxing a flood of release.

“I'm impressed,” but what would the impressive do next? The depleted organ pulsed for but moments longer until it became tender, gradually softening, but yet to retreat to its sheathe. “That was most satisfying.”

The equine held a minimal concern for the possible discovery by the hunters. He had nothing to conceal, and it was the human who had approached willingly, there was no blackmail involved. No threats. Perhaps they would decide to destroy or otherwise punish him for the circumstance, but he would fight back.

An amusement touched the unicorn's features, muzzle lowering as far as it could against the bridle and chain, eyes searching to make sure the other had not drowned. From the still apparent, and delicious, sensation against his length, there were was no hazard. It was most likely a surprise that he hadn't lasted as long as others; in such a situation, his fuse was limited, so to speak.

Ears pointed to listen to the other's breaths, and if there had been anyone watching, a smirk would have appeared to rest on the raven equine's lips. So close now. So. Close.

“That, we will see.” The hand offering the necessary ingredient was scented momentarily, tongue reaching from around the obstruction in his mouth and beginning to lap carefully, much like a feline would, nares flaring as the taste was considered. It was palatable.

Minutes would pass before he had finished cleaning the other's skin, “my thanks,” and the spell was discernible to his senses. Tingles spread throughout his dark forehead, and a warmth grew at the centre. “Tell me human, what can I do for you...?” It was but countdown.