Operation Buterbrod
Episode 7 - The Sappy Ending
There
had been some weeks since he last properly had a dream, despite his
vicinity to the Woods that so often conjured them up. Even though,
overall - since the Great Burning, the wilderness had become
significantly less powerful, especially after the Severing of the
Goddess and the creation of her numerous conduits, one would think that
dreams would be in great abundance.
For Muzhik, he had almost lost the desire for dreams, since life had
become something better than anything one could dream. His eyes opened
and for the briefest of moments, he had forgotten that his soul
inhabited a far smaller form. The little Domovoy waited for his vision
to adjust to the perspective and for everything to become more
proportionate. His little hands reached to adjust a pair of glasses
that were not there, for they were not needed.
“Right, that is right…” He felt rather silly. The
little Home Spirit was a small man in the form of a doll-like puppet.
While some woulddiscouragingly call him a Nutcracker or merely, a
superior Soviet take on a ventriloquist dummy - he was crafted in the
image of himself, by the Lady of the Woods.
His head wrapped in a small ushanka and the rest of himself not too far
from his own Siberian styled, Far East district uniform - the Lady of
the Woods had done an excellent job, all those decades ago - forming a
conduit that would best host his soul.
It was not the most perfect solution, but to escape death and to have
his sentience, his consciousness fully possessed the living wood of the
Goddess herself? Truly a blessing. And the fact that his body
produced… substances of rejuvenating substances also was a great
benefit to his wife.
A strong word, that was. Wife. Surely, they were not married in the
typical sense, but marriage itself in the legal or, laughably,
‘Christian’ sense was not the concern of a man
Muzhik’s sort.
While he would never truly manifest an organic body, his wooden one was
surprisingly expressive and held similar points of articulation. Which
put him in the uncanny valley to the uninitiated, but the little
soldier was not the oddest thing that appeared in these woods. It was
here that only the bravest of wanderers would dare come. Not even the
zealots of the Church have dared to step foot in the Woods of Dreams
since the Great Burning. Yet, an odd,
premonition-tinged feeling in his ‘gut’ made him think that would one day change.
The home had become rather comfortable and somehow even more filled
with arcana and books. A symptom of Matilde’s full embracing of a
life of a witch, once under the tutelage of the Lady of the Woods. Now,
she had fully been independent and had long begun her own studies into
the truly esoteric. Once one got a bit of a taste for this far end of
the occult, it was not so possible to ever leave.
The boundaries that separated thi sword from the ‘ordinary’
could hardly ever be crossed over again without there being
consideration for what had been experienced. The Miracles that were
witnessed, shan’t be ignored so easily. There was no room for
skepticism ever again and obviously, Mati had never held a skeptical
thought in her head regarding the World of Miracles.
Outside, the sound of their shared carriage of various goods - rattled
to a stop. Obviously, Mati had returned home and she had gotten the
chocolate mixture that she craved so intently the past few days with
more than one or two complaints. Muzhik usually attended her on such
ventures, for he could simply play the part of a pagan idol or wooden
guardian owned by a witch - to the locals that did inhabit the town. Of
course, Mati’s reputation was clearly that of a witch, but hardly
anyone in the ‘secular’ world would believe that it was
anything but a way of life and a religiously held belief with no
bearing on the physical world. It must have been nice to live in such
ignorance, as Muzhik once did as a living man.
However, her little husband had fallen asleep. The culprit was nearby as he stretched his limbs again in the chair. This chair.
This chair, this chair, this chair, this chair. It had surely seen
things and it was by magic alone that it was kept as clean as it was.
But its essence, along with the substances of Muzhik’s
regenerative properties, gave it a far longer life as a sturdy piece of
beloved furniture than it ever was predicted to last for.
His elbow knocked against a hardcover book. It was on none other than
the Persian legend of Arash. In terms of Iranian mythology, this was
the hero of all heroes that also largely explained many of their
self-sacrificial attitudes in the modern political climate of the world.
Arash… was an archer that was credited with ending the war
between the Persians and Turks. A conflict that had lasted over half of
an entire century. He was in the service of the last king of Ancient
West Asia, King Manuchehr, as far as written history and spoken word
went. An otherwise peaceful man, he ended the war with an arrow so
noble, it took his own life in the process.
A hero of Western Asia, his tales even had spread to the Soviet
Caucasus, which was where Muzhik had first heard the utterance of Arash
the Archer. Apparently, his legendary shot was what crafted the border
between Persia and Turan. The idea was remarkable, a weapon that could
split the earth and travel over 2500 kilometers. If human beings had
developed such a weapon like this, it would never be used for good,
that was for sure. Hardly anyone today had the spirit and nobility of
Arash. If he even ever existed.
“Aghh…” Sometimes, that wooden acorn head of his was
a matryoshka of complicated thoughts. And each layer was more petty and
silly than the other. But once he was fully conscious again, Muzhik
became at ease. “Oh, it was you…”
Resting on the top of the stove, seemingly unbothered by its tremendous
heat, the black cat Lovecraft lept from its perch and approached the
Domovoy house-spirit of carved wood. Muzhik frowned only at first
before he splintered forth a smile.
“Ahhhh… you were giving me some dreams to distract me,
huh? All those memories? I forgot, you were always my connection to
this place.”
He really wondered how it had happened. Lovecraft, as a
spirit-familiar, had some close connection to this realm or at least,
the Lady of the Woods. And yet, by sure chance, he had found himself in
allegiance to a slavic family that had passed him down, matriarch to
matriarch, only for there to be Muzhik - the first patriarch of the
family to receive him.
“Since I was just the youngest of a man, you’ve given me
dreams and ensured that my memories were preserved with perfect
clarity. For that, I have to thank you…” Muzhik huffed.
“Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to return to the
world of the living for a bit… Nghhh…”
The big man encased in a little body would not so easily admit he was
still tired. Anyone would be, after such a long nap, such a long sleep.
Mati must have been gone for some hours and here he was, being rather
lazy. Still, at the very least, he ensured the household was still
imbued with an immensely positive energy.
“Muzhik!” Mati arrived and the door slammed, accidentally,
hard enough to shake the whole house as if it were the rickety
carriage. She surprised herself and nearly dropped her groceries.
“Ahh!”
Luckily, she managed to catch them before they could fall from her
hands, but it was still a fairly clumsy maneuver. The large brown bag
that contained plenty of vegetables had torn, yet the bag that
contained some pre-made bread, kolbasa from the slavic-store and
chocolate mixings, miraculously was unharmed.
“Hmmm…” She composed herself quickly and refused to
let Muzhik see her own apparent surprise at the mishap. Mati had not
aged a day, largely due to her intake of his rejuvenating…
puppet-milk, so to speak.
Dressing in the ornate hood and robins that were gifted to her by the
Lady of the Woods, Muzhik noticed that another part of his body
had… surely shown to be wooden. For whatever reason, the
concealed and modest Mati looked especially delicious today. Was it one
of the earlier dreams that had conjured it up?
Mati could sense it, as she was putting everything away and preparing
some buterbrod. The proper offering to a home spirit such as the
Domovoy that Muzhik had become so many years ago.
He has stored a lot of pilk… I-I mean, puppet milk.
The faintest blush painted her face and her own glasses fogged
slightly. Yes, that meant that it would be time to harvest some from
him again. She could be so selfish in this regard. Mati tried to
distract herself with her diligent focus of slicing
the bread. However, the fashion that she used knives was always of
great concern to even the uncarvable Muzhik. He opted to stay away from
her as she carved the bread loaf and applied some butter, as well as
Doctor’s Sausage. For the fact alone that he did not want to
become a wooden knife slot by accident.
Instead, Muzhik rather wanted to do the slotting. And with a
mischievous grin, he sat in the chair and focused on Mati’s shape
beneath the robes. Yes, that plump butt of her brought him some great
pleasure to imagine.
Already, Muzhik imagined being crushed by it somewhat due to the size
difference. But also, he wanted to give it a few healthy spanks and to
fill her with not just pilk, but some sap, as well. When he had let
some of his more animalistic spiritual attributes out, that inner wolf
of his, the bear of lust, he would produce sap rather than pilk.
A side effect of his transfiguration into a Domovoy. However, it was
not too much of a bother, as Mati had received enough of his
rejuvenating seed from him to last several more lifetimes. Indeed, this
was also the key behind the Lady of the Wood’s seeming
immortality. Mati could not complain that she, too, had a wooden lover
that was willing to fulfill her needs. As a husband, a lover and a
conduit for her own longevity. In the end, it was entirely beneficial
to both.
Mati could not imagine a life without Muzhik. And Muzhik could not
imagine a life without her. Just the thought, the consideration of it
being a possibility, even though it was utterly unlikely… it had
nearly brought some tears to her eyes. She didn’t even have any
onions to blame!
The thought rammed into her head, just as he had rammed into her so many times in the past.
I am going to march over there and suck his wooden dick. Mati thought and spun around. Far more
practiced and capable than she used to be. Her
clothes lifted in the swirl to reveal the legs that Muzhik loved so much.
Already, he had removed his cock from his trousers and had gripped his
trunk with one hand and stroked his branch with the other. One eye
closed shut and the other open.
“Muzhik!”
“W-what!”
“Already?”
“Just warming it up…”
“Oo-oh…”
Out of the tens of thousands of times they have done this by now, there
was still this air of innocence to Mati that could never be defiled. At
first. Once she got into it, it would be more than enough.
She stomped over with the plate of buterbrod ready, only to place it
beside the chair. Lovecraft ran away, for not even he would dare touch
the sacred buterbrod offering that was an essential part of the loving
pact and marriage between both Mati and Muzhik.
Mati was eye level with the sitting Domovoy-Muzhik, positioned on her
knees, which had gotten rather veteraned in this position for a
multitude of reasons.
“Muzhik.”
“Matilde.” Muzhik showed his teeth, his wooden face somehow
flushed. His wooden cock stroked so near her mouth. “I want to
fuck your face… Please? I want to give you some
pilk…”
“Some pilk?” Mati
found that hilarious. “Pervert… you are so stoic
sometimes, but when you store so much pilk-”
“Lovecraft gave me some dreams too, so I guess I’ve been
more stressed than I’d like to admit lately…” He
mentioned, eyes transfixed on Mati’s through her glasses. Muzhik
did his best to ignore the reflection of himself, polishing his
lacquered dick with his hands. “I guess its only
natural…”
“There is a lot going on in the world, as always…”
But Mati did not want to think about that. To think about the Infinity
War that was Germany’s endless Siberian campaign that had lasted
decades and effectively bankrupted Europe under the Axis. Rather
amusingly, those who lived in communities such as this, in rurality,
lived far better than even the ‘winners’ of the last Great
War, did in the cities. In Berlin, people would kill for the amount of
bread and butter and luncheon meat that Muzhik got to eat practically
daily. “Mmmm… Look at my lips.”
“Oooh? W-we are starting then?” Muzhik melted somewhat, he
enjoyed it when she took the lead, even if he knew that he would steal
the reins near the end, despite the size difference. With him being
smaller, it made dominating poor Mati all the more fun.
“Ahhh… those lips are begging for me…”
“Y-you got to say it like that each time?” Mati didn’t bother to lower her hood just yet, she
knew that it added some erotic intrigue to it all, for herself as well.
But her fingers already pressed against her clothed sex and felt the
warmth behind the layer of her black, somewhat lacy panties. The very
kind that she wore just because she knew it made Muzhik hard, whenever
he glanced up at her from beneath her garbs.
Mati sighed. What was she going to do with him? Well, she had a few
things in mind. Before she was the one to be ‘disciplined’
by him, she would be the one to tease him. She blew him a kiss and then
kissed his wooden phallus. It was more than enough to make him shutter.
“Oooh… Mati, the things you do to me…” Muzhik
finally removed his hands from his own stiffness. The benefit of being
this size, meant that he got to fully feel all so many pleasurable
things in great multitudes. Although, his own ability to transfigure
his form would be abused on occasion. For now, he was happy to have his
dick kissed cutely by Mati. “Time to polish my wooden
mushroom?”
“Yes, actually…” The next kiss was far more wet. The
taste of his wooden cock was so enticing, that finally, she let her
tongue fling out and flick against it. Audibly tapping it and letting
her spit enticingly glaze the top of it. Once it was nice and gilded on
top, she polished the rest of his dick with some loving energy.
“Mmmm… you taste like honey today…”
“More like honey and sawdust…” Muzhik let himself
joke, stiffening further as her lips became more warm, more wet and
more focused on giving him the attention he yearned for. In practically
no time at all, Mati had begun to fellate the Domovoy. And rapidly, he
would huff and feel the overwhelming pleasure of her larger mouth, in
comparison, being able to take his cock with such ease.
“Mmmm… Yes, Mati… you still know, don’t
you…?”
“Mhmm?” What exactly did Mati know, she wondered? As of
now, she was too busy bobbing her head on his prick. Sucking more and
more and swirling over the entire shape of his wooden manhood, which
stood at attention like a true soldier for her tongue.
“Ehh…?”
“That you belong to the URSS…” Muzhik quipped, as he
pushed his little hips toward her, sticking his schlong further across
her tongue. The way he would jab at her tongue and inner cheeks like
that was surely erotic. “Ooh? Not even an eyeroll this
time…?”
The only thing that Mati rolled was her warm, soft as velvet or silk,
tongue over him. She had gotten especially good at polishing his
lacquered appendaged and it would not be long before she had made him
utterly feral.
“Ahghh… Mati, mhmh… Yeah, just… ahh, I love seeing those lips over me like that…”
And enduringly, Mati gave him a closed-eye, wide smile, which audibly
broke the suction around his dick. While she showed him her teeth, she
playfully flicked his dick back and forth with her tongue before she
took him in deeply.
“Snlrrk…” Mati would not choke on this dick, rather,
she would be the one fucking her own mouth with it for now. The rough
oral had begun and the wetness from her mouth had begun to drain over
him and onto the chair. “Aghhhla-”
Mati’s lips would begin to pound against his pelvis as she would
take his length over and over again. The erotic sounds of her
practically sucking every single part of his entire cock had driven
them both wild.
Now, Muzhik actively bounced his hips into her mouth and swabbed her
the very beginning of the back of her throat, with his own hands
holding her cheeks and dragging the bobbing along. Muzhik fucked her
mouth the same way he would fuck her body. It was a little rough, of
course, but entirely out of love.
“Naghhhh…. Ahhh… Mhm, take that Soviet dick,
Mati!” Muzhik gasped, just as Mati finally lowered her hood and
allowed him to have some more free reign over the actions. Of course,
he would prod her cheeks with his dick and swipe it over her tongue
repeatedly. He’d swing his hips as he dabbed against her sweet,
warm mouth and ensured she tasted his wood religiously. And like a
corrupted nun, Mati let the taste of the polished phallus completely
take
over her taste buds.
“I love fucking your Spanish mouth… Mmmmm, that Galician
tongue was made to serve my Soviet cock, right?” Playfully,
Muzhik would ask such things as scrubbing his prick roughly against
every soft and wet surface past her lips. Mati’s lips,
themselves, pursed around his prick and perpetually made smooching
sounds as he pumped his body into her. “Y-yes, kiss my pelvis,
mhmmm… Ahhh, this mouth has been claimed by the
URSS…”
What a dastardly little gremlin he could be, especially now that he
pulsed in his erratic need to hump against her tongue. Wooden and flesh
smacks combined as Mati’s chin got more and more sticky. And the
whole time, Muzhik would look down and see his own blushed face in her
glasses, beyond that - the eyes he loved so much and loved to make eye
contact with.
“Yes, Mati… watch me as I stuff my cock in your mouth,
oughh!” It was so erotic and it made his hard wood even harder
somehow. “Ahhh, yeeeees, this is it! L-let me look down at
you!”
In some cases, Muzhik certainly missed the height advantage he had over
her. But Mati was happy to oblige with a rather cute compromise. Her
hands took him under the arms and lifted him up, so that he could pound
her face from above. While he was at the mercy of her grasp, he sat in
her hands and happily fucked her lips as he gripped her head.
“Ahh! Ahh! Matilde! Matilde, you want this!? Yeah?”
“Mghhm!”
“I am going to… ngh!” And after the considerable
effort, the first of the reserves were drained as he busted a large,
loving, rejuvenating pilk-nut in her mouth. “Ahhh… this is
why we call your mouth the Nutcracker, isn’t it…?”
Muzhik nearly rolled his eyes back so hard he passed out, but still, in
this held position - he let Mati lovingly suck and nurse his cock.
Tasting his delicious milk. The moloko of rejuvenation dripped down her
chin just as much as her saliva did. With his cock soaking-wet, it
swelled ever so slightly.
Once he was placed down onto the chair again, he watched as Mati fed on
his timber penis, his treen-peen. She loved to have her mouth bred by
the Domovoy, to taste his gift of pilk just for her. Muzhik stroked her
face and was reluctant to let his cock be pulled out so soon.
“Why does humping your pretty innocent face never get old, Mati…?” He asked himself, but also her.
“Ahhh…” The blushed lady replied with an open
display of her mouth. Nestled on her tongue, his cum - soon to be
swallowed harshly. But not after the tip of her tongue dabbed his still
hard prick some more. “Ah-hum.”
Muzhik always slumped a bit at the sight of her swallowing his seed. It
made the naturally in-human side of him want to just hunt her more,
pursue her pleasure and his own even farther.
“Naghhh… Mati…” Like a little wooden king on
a throne, he would make a demand of her. “Ride my
dick…”
“Oh.” She glanced down and then stood up. “You want to inject me directly…?”
“Yes, I want to fuck you and smack your ass red…”
Huffed Muzhik. He easily looked past the sight of his saliva drenched
dick as Mati slowly raised her robings. “Ooooooh…”
Muzhik’s chiming heart skipped some beast as she saw those
delicious thighs of Mati, just above those boots that always got him
properly stiff. But here were her bare thighs, which made his eyes open
fully and finally… those delicious black panties that concealed
her bubble butt.
“That ass haunts my thoughts all the time…” He
admitted, watching as Mati’s advantage of size just emphasized
her plump butt even more for him.
“Trust me, I know when you look at it and I feel it in my tummy when you think about it…”
Her lacy, black panty clad ass rubbed firmly against his dick - which
only encouraged it to swell, swell and significantly grow some more.
Yes, this was an appropriate length for what was to come, Muzhik
believed.
Muzhik’s hands reached out to feel each cheek with love. Of
course, Mati would sit down hard on him, which made him exhale, but he
was able to lay back some and enjoy the sensation of being partially
smashed by her ass as it beautifully formed over him - as well as his
cock.
“Ahhh… Mati… I can feel the stickyness from your pussy too…” He could also smell her
distinct scent, which made him lick at his own lips. “Mmmm… Let's do this…”
It was like a holy unveiling, as she looped her fingers into the
panties’ band and slid them down, further releasing the shape of
bubble butt. Muzhik loudly inhaled at awe at her pear shape, watching
as she sat down firmly on his cock.
The chair shook, the floor shook, the entire house seemed to shake. As
Mati sat down again and again on his dick. Pounding herself against it
and twisting her hips in a way that even made her yelp out in pleasure,
all allowing it to stir inside of her. Muzhik groped her plushness with
intense eagerness, occasionally reaching around to grab at her pudge
too.
Everything about her body, even after decades of being together, still
made him wild. It couldn’t have just been the fact he was carved
out of a fertility goddess either, this was a part of him that was
amplified somewhat by the purity of his soul essence as it was
reinserted into this vessel.
In other words, Muzhik loved her and his body yearned for her so much.
Just as her pussy fully enveloped him… just for him to suddenly
increase the size of his dick in her dramatically.
“Oooh, oooooooouh!” Mati gasped, being reminded of the time
he had completely pulverized her virginity. This was a stiff stick to
take and while the surprise could have been forewarned, Mati had to
embrace it as her body did. “Ouuh, Muzhik! The big peen has
returned…”
“The Soviet bear has awakened…” Both hands came down
on her ass hard, which forced a pleasant ripple through her plump ass
and even through her somewhat plump legs. “Ahhh… Time to
liberate your pussy for the URSS!”
“Ahhh, yes… hold on!” Mati did not need to tell him
twice. Muzhik grasped her hips and tugged himself into her pussy again
and again. The phallus squeaked inside her tight slot as she moved away
from the chair in a crawl. There was a place by the bookshelf that was
used for little situations just like this. “Y-yes, hold on
still!”
“Ahhh! A true Soviet never gives up so easily!” Declared
Muzhik, as he triumphantly grasped onto her soft womanhood, pounding
his wooden pecker into her cunt hard enough to cause her to practically
drain her pleasure over her thighs already.
A foot rest that was otherwise for the chair would be a fine place to
lean against, Mati knew. She placed herself over it and raised her ass
in the air, feeling full how Muzhik drove his prick deeper and deeper
into her. This also gave him the pleasurable perceptive of being able
to feel nice and tall, despite everything.
Balls deep, over and over again, Muzhik nearly feared that he’d
slip all the way into her. His booted feet cling to her thighs as they
begin to sweat and redden. Fucking her pussy like this was a familiar
thing, but it was much harder than it looked sometimes.
“H-here…” A stack of books were slid between her
legs. Prepared just for this occasion. In fact, the top book had
already plenty of stains from her happy valley and also his pilk, not
to mention - visible scruffs from his boots. “Ahhh… now
remind me who I belong to!”
“The URSS! Yes!” Muzhik had far more support as he stood on
the books, able to slam dunk his mushroom into her Spanish cake, all
while he got to see the beautiful side of her butt bounce against his
thrusts. Just as he fucked her mouth earlier, he clung onto her and
continued to shove himself in deep. “Mmmmm! My beautiful wife!
Soviet property or not, you are one of a kind!”
“Mmmm! Muzhik! Butter my, uhhh… bread! With your uhhh… cock! Turn me into buterbrod!”
Her ass being smacked red and kneaded like dough, Mati couldn’t
hold it in any longer as she nearly blasted poor Muzhik off of the
books with her squirting orgasm, practically drenching her Domovoy
husband - but hardly to his complaint, as he opened his mouth and let
her pleasure drain into his mouth as he continued to breed her Galician
pussy until it was melting putty around his Siberian schlong.
It was far from a toothpick, that was for sure. The manipulation of its
size had made its enjoyable longevity for the two of them that much
greater. Even though he could not exceed what his original body had
permitted, it was still a considerable size that packed Mati’s
love-locker nice and tight.
“Ooooh, I’ll butter your buns too…” Promised
Muzhik, just as the heat inside of his penis began to grow. At first,
he mistook Mati’s tightness at her entrance for the cause, but no
- it was deep within his shaft, the incredible seed that was soon to be
born from the tip of phallus. “Ouuuh, the pilk has been stirred
and I am about to burst!”
It was said with such bravado, a great sense of achievement and
victory. Knowing that he’d soon blast her womb to the womb was
the happiest joy. Still plastered in Mati’s orgasm, the wet
Muzhik made a considerably loud slosh as he penetrated her again and
again. The pounding that left her plump goodness reddened would
continue with extreme effort.
“Yes-yes-yes-Muzhik-yes!” Mati coiled and embraced the
Soviet cock as it drilled her without ceasing. Every part of her
vagina’s innerwalls kissed and caressed the manhood, especially
now that his
love-sap began to pour into her. And that was just the pre-pilk.
“Oouuh, yeeees, I’m feeling it!” Mati gasped as the
warmth of its first pouring had erupted.
The first pearls of Domovoy cum swirled deep inside of her, enough that
a large strand crept out and shot out of the seal of Muzhik’s
dick and her entrance. The steaming hot, white glob of wood-cock,
pleasure-glue painted the floor loudly, but not without leaving a wet
smear against her leg that caused her to shiver.
“Ahhhh!” Clenching her body around him, she squeezed out
the other rewards into her. There was no mistaking this feeling, a
steady stream of pilk had burst into her. Muzhik had successfully bred
her once again and his milky seeds poured recklessly into the
packed-tight womb, where she would cultivate the most significant
amount of the rejuvenation properties.
“Oo–o–ooohhhhoh!” Matilde was outright ashamed of how much her euphoric senses worshiped the presence of Muzhik’s Siberian dick-snow.
“Uuuuraaa!” Meanwhile, Muzhik popped his dick out of her
and the tip flung a burst that would stain her clothes for sure. At
this rate, a mix of his penis-glue and her pussy juice had already
seeped into her boots. “What a wet mess, ahhh… I love
making my wife shiver at my touch…”
Like a true artisan, and true to his promise, he used his prick like a
paintbrush and scraped it against her ass cheeks. Each one being
drizzled with his white glaze, as if it was not enough that he turned
her cake into a Russian-cream filled one.
The books were entirely ruined and were doomed to be stuck together for
an eternity, as puppet milk drizzled out of the thoroughly pleasured
sex of Matilde. Even Muzhik shook as he finished drawing a hammer and
sickle, composed of his cum, both sides of her ass’s flank.
His dick would return to a more proportionate size and shape. But still rather large for the body he packed it on.
Matilde felt her hips being squeezed again. There’s more?! She wondered, as the blissful whiteness of his love had reached her tummy pudge.
“Muuuuzhik… are you going to sap me?” Mati asked,
small exhausted years of pleasure in her eyes. “Oooouh, you
monster-Domovoy… do you really want it in my ass that bad?”
Muzhik admired the asshole before him, her already wet cheeks beckoned
him as he teased her exit. Preemptively, he twitched his phallus and
allowed a single droplet of white warmth to enter her black hole.
“It's just so cute and nice, you know I just want to sap your ass…”
“Y-you animal! You are going to give into the beast and sap my
butthole?!” Mati resisted at first, but upon feeling the warmth
of his pearl trail inside of her forbidden place… she sighed.
Relentling. “F-fine. But only because you really have been a good
Domovoy lately…”
The hammer-and-sickle cum painting was slapped off her ass by him,
Muzhik was pleased so far, but he would not let her just say such
things without some discipline.
“Mati… Comrade Mati, you belong to the URSS and that means you must not be insubordinate, yes?”
“Mhmhm…” She played along because it made her tummy
cramp with how hot it was. The two’s face were the colour of
chopped beets. “Y-you are at least going to suck my chest,
r-right, hubby?”
“Oouh, uhh…” That sweet voice had nearly distracted
him from inserting his penis into her ass. “O-of course.”
God, he loved her.
He also fairly enjoyed the fact she let him take her anally every so
often, but not ever with the full size. It was fine, knowing he could
explore her forbidden hole was more than enough for him.
With his wooden bottom lip bitten, the sort of animalistic purr Muzhik
let out as he choked his dick with her asshole reminded Mati that was
was truly an elemental beast that simply had the soul of her husband
inside of it. But no, this was truly him.
A loving, caring husband that gave her pilk… but also desires
her ass. So indecent, but she would have lied if she said there was not
enjoyment in knowing he was so pleasured taking her from behind some
more. If it wasn’t for the fact it actually felt good in the most
lewd way, she would never have agreed to it. She just wished that he
shot more pilk up there than sap.
“Mmmmh…. Go ahead, Muzhik, enjoy your beastly f-fun…”
“I will, Matilde, my love…” Rather than abuse her
anally, Muzhik took his time and drew his dick into her and out of her
repeatedly. All with the cutest little gasps, but also - the wolf-like
growl that showed the unnatural part of his heart. His magic body knew
not to waste any pilk on a hole that could not receive its mystical
properties, so Muzhik now felt the deep storage of sap build up inside of him.
Conjured by the alchemy of sex, it began to bubble within him and fill
his member. The clearly sticky sounds he made as he let the
amber-liquid gradually drain into the anal session, made Mati cringe
but also gasp as she felt the many strands of the sap goop her butt.
“Oooh…” It was a sensation that hardly could be
described in words. The sap was unpleasant at first, but the texture of
slight resistance only made Muzhik give it to her butt some more. Now
the books were just as fucked as Matilde, being as the golden,
alternative cum poured over it like maple syrup on pancakes.
“Ooohh… I’m gooping, Mati… Ooh!”
Completely flushed and gasping as if for dear life, Muzhik had run out
of energy as he held onto her hips - which meant that Mati had to slam
her ass against him some more to help. An act that was much
appreciated, with this unique type of friction in the relative
tightness of her tunnel.
Terribly, it seemed that there was just as much sap to suddenly slosh
into her as there was pilk. Somewhat slimy, the syrupy-bestial cum made
for a sticky mess. Muzhik’s mouth was wide open, drooling
practically - as he leaked into her again and again.
“Ouuuuuh, Matilde-”
“Y-yes…?”
“I sapped in your butt…”
“I know…”
“I sapped your ass… your asshole, I sapped it!”
“I-I know sweetie, you can be proud of it… E-ehhh…”
“S-sorry, almost done…”
One last triumphant thrust and… there. A bit of puppet milk, as
his love for her reminded his body of the human soul inside once more.
The pearls of love would surely help with cleaning it up later. But for
now, Muzhik had felt exhausted.
“Oooh… wow!” He stumbled off of the books, only to
look back and admire his work. Thoroughly sapped and gushed with puppet
milk, Matilde had been utterly made love to you by the Domovoy and he
could not have been happier. “Mmmm… Time for the
pampering…”
“Yes!” Excited, but exhausted, Mati collapsed off of the rest and rolled onto her back.
The rest of her clothed were pulled up and Muzhik grinned full heartedly as he got to rub her
belly a little. “Ouhm…”
“I love this tummy…” Muzhik gave it a loving kiss. “Now… time for our favourite part.”
Lovingly and for a long time, the two of them completely drenched in
evidence of their love and also their loving lust, Muzhik sucked on her
titties. He even bit them lightly a few times,
nibbling them nice and red - as he did her body in general.
Mati would squeak like a mouse as she sucked on her boobs with his full
mouth - his hands also were happy to twist and turn her nipples, tug
and press.
“Schlk… mmmmm, schlk…” Muzhik made sure she
heard every sip, lick and suckle sound. He enjoyed the taste of her
chest and was always happy to let her breasts be slick with his Domovoy
drool. “Ahhh…” And of course, occasionally, his ever
sensitive penis would be rubbed against them, only for her nipples to
be polished by him again soon after.
The day would pass on into evening, as the two proceeded to clean one
another up. Matilde always got a sudden jolt of energy, as her body
consumed the pilk and made her so wondrously alert. All while Muzhik
was nearly dizzy and needed some pampering and guidance to normalize as
his body began to fill with his spirit again.
This was hardly their stickiest or messiest session. But it was a
typical one, regardless. The exchange of love between them had been
going on for decades and there was never a doubt, never a bit of
boredom and hardly ever any second guessing.
Their feelings for one another were as complex as they were simple. And
while they made love, they also fucked. And while they fucked, they
also made love.
But at the end of the day, the two would share an offering of buterbrod
and in their meager conditions, they would sleep with their hands held.
Fingers intertwined, as best as they could manage.
On this night in particular, Mati had woken early and hugged him with
great earnest. Without much else to say, the two embraced in their
comfortable love and Muzhik managed to utter a small song.
A lullaby. For the dream that never ended, the life that he was so
happy to live, so glad to have. And the song would tell of the wolves
that slept among the trees, of how they yearned to escape the dreaded
hunters.
And the lyrics would tell of the bats that swayed in the breeze, who
dared to fight the cold winds that wished to cast them away. Of how the
anxious souls of slumbering men and women would suddenly bolt awake -
just as the wolf.
But the perspective would always be the same.
The wolves feared the end of their lovely little clan and thus, against
the hunter, they still would hide beneath the trees. For every predator
had something to fear, a larger predator.
And yet there was the fox, so nobly stupid. Once, Muzhik wished to be
like him. To die so dumbly, having trotted out into the snow and to
have their life darted away by a hunter’s bullet. To see the
blue, cloudless sky one last time.
But no, Muzhik knew that he was the wolf in his den beside his beloved
Mati. Where he was comfortable, where he was safe, where he would love
her and she would love him. The wolves, even the steppe wolves, who so
aggressively fought one another… would not their most loved
wives be left alone to tremble.
And the wolf would guard their loves, from ghouls, from wraiths, hags
and witches. Even the hunter and his wicked bow. Even the hunter and
his loud, ringing rifle.
Come the night, the birds would become so silent and if one listened
closely enough, the distant waters of the oceans, being pulled by the
moon’s gravity - could be heard. In the middle of these woods,
all one could hear was the soft rhythm of mother nature’s heart.
Even the cows turn to the moonlight and rest while standing. And even
the wolves, while some may bravely howl, still rest contently in wait
for the hunter. For they wished nothing more than to scare away
heartache and woe, for that is all that those who hunt for sport bring.
And the lullaby would end, with Mati and Muzhik suddenly back to sleep.
The sway of gentle bristles and pines, Mother Nature stroking the
flowing locks of her beloved planet - created a soft rhythm to
encourage further rest.
To think, it was once Muzhik that was the hunter. Who would slice and
dice, cut others up nice. The hunter that came for the wolves. The
beast that made the sunlight die for an evening. And now, more than
anything else, he enjoyed and loved his peace. The war, no matter how
close, no matter how distance - was a resonance in retroactive history.
To Muzhik,
he had seen the beginning and end of his life and it all started, it all ended, with his one true
love.
The sun blistered Euskadi that morning. Not a hint of rain and even the cold had been run away from by the blissful warmth.
And to what, did Muzhik wake up to? Not to his sleeping wife, but to his attentive wife,
presenting him a meal on a plate. Bread. Butter. Luncheon meat.
He remembered what he had fought for, so many years ago. The right to
enjoy some simple buterbrod with someone he loved more than anything
else, even life.
Finally, the dream he always wanted - had come true. And there was suddenly no need for dreams ever again.