Primal Dawn

Chapter 16: Chapter 16


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To describe himself as exhausted would be an understatement. Drained may be the only word to describe the state Peter found himself in.

Yesterday the Dryads had carried him back to what appeared to be their home. Although tied up, Peter was still able to briefly look around and found himself surprised.

He had always thought untamed primals lived in caves or underneath rocks or something. Well, perhaps living underneath rocks would be difficult for the majority of primals. But he figured the majority did not do much to establish any sort of residence, and simply used whatever dwellings nature could provide.

It was nothing compared to the towns or homes of humans, that was certain. But the Dryads seemed to have built makeshift shacks using whatever materials the forest provided. Leaves and other vegetation were used to help build a sort of roof. It seemed they even had a separate space for storage. This is where Peter was being held captive.

When they were not using him, and sometimes during, Peter's hands were bound together overhead by vines against the trunk of a tree behind him. His legs were kept free. So confident in their abilities, they knew that he could not escape the bindings. Peter realized as well.

He tried to scratch at the vines with his nails, pushing up with his legs, but no matter what he could not free himself. At one point he had tried to bite at his wrists, thinking he could leave his hands behind and escape.

The only outcome was a bit of blood, which the Dryad guarding him quickly healed. In some regards, it made sense to keep him in their storage area. The guard which stood by accomplished multiple things. It seemed they were involved in the safekeeping of food for the rest of the... group? Tribe? Peter wasn't sure what to call this gathering of primals.

Berries and other foods which could be found scavenging and gathering around the forest were sorted and organized neatly into piles, and the guard would distribute them out to those who stopped by. Based on the quantity they had obtained, the town name of 'Wildburry' had certainly been deserved.

Initially, Peter thought to describe the guard as “Beautiful.” But he later added “Erotic,” as an important qualifier. Certainly, primals in general were attractive, and Dryads were no exception. This ones face bore a feeling of youthfulness and innocence. Which were in stout contrast to her body, which could only be described as voluptuous. Even meaty.

Breasts which seemed to eclipse even that of the Daurus' he had seen before. If he were in a private gathering with another man, he might simply utter the words “Even from behind...” and they would immediately understand. A healthy butt which jiggled and taunted him with each step. And to top it all off, she seemed to emit a sweet, flowery and homely smell, which almost had a relaxing kind of effect. When Peter first arrived, it was impossible to take his eyes off her. Yet to his surprise, this Dryad, which in his mind seemed to hold reasonable authority or position within this tribe of Dryads, apparently held very little.

Although he couldn't be certain as he was unsure of exactly how many Dryads were here, or which ones mated with him due to general similarities in appearance, one thing was painfully clear to him. She had not done so yet.

In fact, it seemed she was forbidden from it. A few times he caught her seemingly peeking nervously from within the entrance before trying to approach him. Yet as soon as she tried to do anything sexual, it always seemed that another Dryad would appear and say something to her, of which Peter could never understand their language. Sometimes his guard would even be slapped, or blasted with a gust of wind for her transgressions. Peter didn't get it.

It seemed the Dryads were considerate enough to feed their captives, or perhaps he was an exception, or maybe it was the nature or personality of the guard. Did untamed primals even have personalities? The Dryad which had been in charge of guarding him also handled feeding him. Since his hands were tied, she would slowly press berries or nuts into his mouth, one at a time.

It was in these moments that Peter was enacting his only plan of escape. When Deric and the others had fled, Peter felt that it was unlikely they would come back unless they found others to help. They had already lost their fight, so without reinforcements all it would result in is another defeat.

Would other tamers volunteer? In the moment he believed so. Now with all the time in the world to think to himself, Peter had doubts. He recalled the tamer captured by goblins. What was his name? Peter couldn't remember. Perhaps this was justice for his weakness at that moment. Rather than try to save the man, Peter ran. And now he found himself in a similar situation.

Besides his own impending death, what Peter feared most was what would happen to Kalista. Knowing her, he feared that she would try to go save him by herself. And he knew that despite how impressive Kalista had been so far, such a feat was impossible. Perhaps the best outcome that had a reasonable chance of success in this situation would be that he died just as she left the town to go after him. She would go berserk and find nobody nearby, and once the effect subsided, either a tamer might pass by and capture her, or she could return to town and attempt to find a new tamer.

Yes, that might be the most he could wish for at this point. Unless his current plan succeeded. That is, taming this guard.

Taming, after all, couldn't necessarily form under conditions outside of sex. The basic requirements for forming a bond when he had attended school were that both the tamer and the primal had to have some sort of 'need' or 'connection' towards each other. Sex was just the easiest way to get a lust-hungry primal to further their desire for you. Although now that he thought about it, Kalista was oddly enough an exception. Didn't Evans say that multiple tamers had failed with her before Peter showed up?

It seemed unlikely that he would be able to mate with his guard any time soon. The other Dryads were undermining his efforts. But there were other things available to him.

Namely, feeding time. Whenever the guard was feeding him, Peter always took care to seductively lick her fingers. He could always see her body tremble whenever he did so, thankfully a lot of playtime with Kalista taught him different avenues of pleasure.

Since he had been stripped of all his clothes, sometimes he would try to wiggle his hips towards her, trying to tease with her with his flopping or erect member while she was standing watch. Or rub his feet along her thighs as she kneeled nearby him, trying to give him sustenance.

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Certainly all his prodding was having an effect, but the bond did not form. Perhaps it was for the best, as Peter realized he needed to accomplish two things for his plan. The first was to tame this Dryad. The second, he realized, was he needed the other Dryads to be either away or distracted. The thought occurred to him at some point. If he tamed this Dryad, perhaps she could free him, and they might try to escape, but the others would not spare her just because she had been one of their own seconds ago.

They didn't show any mercy to Kya, Kean's Dryad who was likely to have been from this very same forest. The Fren's which had ambushed him and dragged him away hadn't shown any sympathy to Anda.

Despite the generous offerings of a small handful of berries and nuts, Peter's body was breaking down. It was nearing the end of the second day, and he wasn't sure if he would last until the morning. Having your essence sapped continuously was taxing on the body, and outside of being outright killed or eaten alive, it was believed this was how most tamers who were captured died.

The next feeding time might be his last. He might not get any other attempts. The guard briefly looked towards Peter, his eyes half open as he stared towards the floor. She picked up some food and approached him, kneeling besides him.

Her fingers gently pushed a berry towards his lips, Peter accepted the Berry and lazily licked her fingertips, yet found himself barely able to even do that. He struggled to lift or move his body, raising only an inch before collapsing onto the ground. Peter had to try harder. He had too...

The exhaustion which had been hanging above him like a cloud, now wracked his body like a storm. The nut which the Dryad offered him was getting stuck on his lips, his head beginning to tilt downwards. He began to shake his head. “Have to...” He softly muttered. “Have to...” He accepted the food and tried teasing her fingers again.

Suddenly, in the background, Peter heard a lot of yelling. He could barely make out Dryads running by the entrance, all seeming to be heading towards one side of the camp. The guard, startled, looking towards the entrance to the storage.

Peter's eyes opened wide. This was his chance. With all the energy he had left in his body, he wrapped his legs around her as she was about to stand up and pulled her towards him. Her head bashed into his. Peter winced in pain but ignored it. He opened his eyes just long enough to see her startled expression, and drove his lips towards hers, stabbing his tongue into her mouth. Hers soon reacted and began to play with his, and Peter tried to pull her body even closer to his, but couldn't without his hands.

The Dryad ignored the commotion outside and went along with him. Her body rubbed into his and Peter could feel himself get barely hard. It was enough for the Dryad who quickly inserted his rod into her entrance, and began to rock her body atop his. Her soft body made slapping sounds as it repeatedly fell onto his, hours of pent up lust being released all at once. Perhaps longer, if Peter was not their first victim. Peter tried to move his hands to keep her from escaping, but had forgotten that they were still bound. He did his best to return her aggressive kisses with his own.

Peter could feel time slow to a crawl. He focused all his thoughts on the Dryad. How much he wanted her. Peter wondered if the nature of the thoughts mattered. Only a single thought kept repeating through his head. Please, I need to get free. Would it be enough? Peter could feel himself begin to swell inside the Dryad. A small burst of whatever he had left buried in the depths of his being shot inside of the Dryad.

Peter's eye's closed and for a moment, his head grew stiff. No longer able to resist even gravity, his head tilted downwards. “Freeee...” Peter gasped. Afterwards, his body lie completely still.

---

A foreboding feeling filled Kalista as she sprinted through the Dryad's encampment. She, along with the others had been battling the Dryads which they had managed to catch off guard, a reversal of the battle from the day before.

Although she had been busy fighting the Dryads, her goal here was not to defeat them, but to save Peter. And Kalista could instinctively tell that the bond which connected her and Peter was about to be broken.

She shoved aside the Dryad which she had been fighting and sprinted towards a group of them. The startled primals began to volley her with attacks, which she did her best to block with her shield as she pushed forward. Cuts and wounds began to appear all over her, but she did not care and pressed forward. A vine caught her foot and she immediately swung her sword to cut it down and pressed onwards. The Dryads began to spread apart to dodge what they thought would be her attack.

Instead, Kalista ran past them, towards a small structure a short distance away. As she neared the entrance, the bond grew even fainter than Kalista thought possible, yet somehow, suddenly, something else seemed to be present.

She burst inside, and saw a Dryad sitting atop a man. “Peter!” Kalista shouted. She jumped with her sword ready to smash into the primal. The Dryad's head quickly turned around, Kalista spotting the terror in her eyes. As she was about to cut her head off, Kalista noticed a green glow bathing the Dryad and Peter's upper body. Kalista landed, and her body froze, sword hanging just above the Dryad's neck.

It didn't take long for her to understand what was going on. But she didn't want to understand. She lifted her sword once more. Anger. Fury. Hatred.

She looked at Peter.

Despair.

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