Chapter 23 - 023: Rut [R18]
The bear’s ears twitched, but he still refused to meet her eyes. Anaria sighed and straightened her shoulders. She didn’t have time to drag this out.
"Let’s cut to the chase," she said. "I have two people waiting for me."
She stepped closer. The difference in their sizes was impossible to ignore. He was broad and solid, the kind of build that made the air around him feel heavier. Her eyes dropped for a moment.
*Hope he doesn’t destroy my thighs,* she thought dryly. *He’s huge as fuck.*
The front of his loincloth was already strained. The thick shape of him pressed clearly against it, and a dark patch showed where he had started to leak. The scent of rut hung heavy in the air between them.
Anaria reached out without hesitation and pressed her palm against him through the cloth. The heat of him was immediate. The bear’s entire body tensed. A low, rough groan left his throat.
"Leave," he said, voice strained. His hands curled into fists at his sides. "You might regret this if I go berserk."
Anaria looked up at him, unimpressed. "What’s the worst that could happen?"
She didn’t wait for an answer. Her fingers worked his loincloth open, and the heavy length of him sprang free. Thick, flushed dark, and already leaking at the tip. The size made her pause for half a second, but she didn’t pull back.
"Keep calm," she said quietly. "I’ll make this quick."
She wrapped her hand around him. Her fingers didn’t fully meet. The heat of his skin was almost startling. She gave a slow, firm stroke from base to tip, spreading the wetness that had already gathered. The bear’s breath hitched hard. His claws extended with a soft sound.
Anaria stroked him again, faster this time. The friction made him hotter under her palm. A deep, involuntary sound rumbled in his chest. She spat into her hand, smoothed it over the head, and then leaned in.
She took him into her mouth in one steady motion.
The stretch was immediate. Her jaw ached almost at once. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she forced herself to keep going, taking as much as she could while her hand worked the rest. The bear’s groan turned louder, rougher. One large hand hovered near her head before finally settling in her hair, not pushing yet, just holding.
Anaria moved with purpose. She sucked hard, tongue pressing along the underside, while her free hand stroked what her mouth couldn’t reach. Every time she pulled back, a thin string of saliva connected her lips to him. The bear’s breathing had turned heavy and uneven. His hips twitched once, twice, as if he was fighting the urge to thrust.
She shifted lower and took one of his balls into her mouth, sucking gently while her hand kept stroking his shaft. The reaction was instant. A broken, almost pained sound left him. His grip in her hair tightened.
"Careful..." he muttered, but the word had no real force behind it.
Anaria returned to his cock, taking him deeper this time. Her throat protested. Her eyes watered more openly now. She kept going anyway, bobbing her head in a steady rhythm while her hand twisted at the base. The bear’s control was clearly slipping. His hips began to move in short, shallow thrusts, matching her pace. Low, continuous growls vibrated through him.
The thick length in her mouth swelled further, growing even hotter. Anaria could feel the tension coiling in him. She didn’t slow down. She sucked harder, hollowing her cheeks, determined to finish what she started.
The bear suddenly pulled her off him with a rough sound. His cock left her mouth with a wet pop. He turned slightly and came hard onto the ground in thick, heavy pulses, one large hand braced against the wall beside him. His whole body shuddered with each release. The sound he made was deep and raw, almost more growl than groan.
Anaria stayed on her knees for a moment, breathing through her nose, then calmly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked up at him.
The bear was still bent forward slightly, staring at the mess on the ground, chest rising and falling hard. His ears were half-lowered again, and a faint flush showed across his cheekbones.
A soft fox-like chime sounded in Anaria’s mind.
[Host has successfully relieved the village leader of his rut]
Anaria blinked at the notification. Then she stared at the bear again, genuine surprise on her face "...Is that all?" she said. "Is he weak or something? That was too short."
The bear’s ears twitched. He still didn’t look at her.
[Yes. The rut has been successfully relieved.]
[Host is advised to secure the village leader’s formal declaration of innocence and release.]
[If Host leaves without it, the current plan will be altered.]
Anaria blinked at the words, then looked back at the bear still leaning against the wall, breathing hard.
"At least his rut has been cured," she muttered to herself.
She wiped her mouth once more and spoke louder. "You need to stop panting, I need your assistance."
The bear didn’t answer. He just kept drawing in deep, steady breaths, eyes half-lidded, as if he was still pulling himself back under control.
Anaria’s patience ran out. She stood up, brushed off her knees, and adjusted her clothes with quick, practical movements.
"I can’t keep waiting for you to catch your breath," she said. "It’s already late. I’ll find my own way out." She paused at the doorway and added, "Whenever you’re stable enough to stand, declare me innocent. Consider it payment for curing your rut."
She turned to leave.
A huge hand closed around her wrist before she could take a second step.
Anaria spun back. The bear was looking at her now, eyes clearer than before, though his breathing was still heavy.
"Where the hell do you think you’re going?" he asked, voice low and rough.
She pushed at his hand. "Home."
The bear let out a deep, rumbling laugh that seemed to come from his chest. His grip didn’t loosen.
"You’re not going anywhere," he said. "Not for now."
Anaria stood frozen, staring up at him in open shock.
[AUTHOR’S NOTE ^_^: Calming a beastman during rut requires intimate contact, but the method varies from person to person. Some may only need soothing, while others may require a more intimate approach depending on their age, temperament, and the severity of their rut.]