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A Scientist's Audio Guide Of Mordrey Forest (Director's Cut) (Duval & LustfulSins)

Duval

Duval

Planetoid
Joined
Oct 27, 2018
The Mordrey Forest looms dark and twisted and alive with the chirping of birds as Leo steps past the treeline, backpack shifting on his shoulders with a his of canvas. He thinks the chirping is birds, anyway.

If it’s not...well, that’s what he came for, isn’t it?

The plastic red START button on the old tape recorder in his hands gives with a satisfying click and Leo lets the sounds of the forest play for a moment before beginning to speak in an excited whisper. “I’ve taken my first steps into Mordrey Forest and it’s just as I expected,” he murmurs, tanned hands coming up to grasp the strap of his bag. “Massive. Gloomy. I guess I see why the locals avoid it, but...the data that could be taken here!”

A large green leaf glistening with dew floats down from a high up branch, perching delicately atop his sandy brown locks and he laughs, pushing it away and grabbing his glasses to clean off the few drops that stained their lenses. “I’ll be documenting the flora and fauna here, making a record of any new species I find...and I expect to find quite a few!”
 
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Mordrey Forest fills a valley contained within a ring of high mountains. Centuries ago, settlers had come to the forest through the only pass into the valley. Very quickly, they discovered the place to be filled with monsters of all manner and magic, too dangerous for humans. So they settled in the mouth of the pass, a blockade to warn travelers. Over the decades, technological advancement tried again and again to push back the forest, with devastating effects. Machinery destroyed, people gone missing and never seen again. Eventually, the townspeople stopped trying, and settled for simply turning away potential tourists. Mordrey Forest is dangerous, forbidden, and the townspeople won't allow outsiders near its trees.

(The human does not reflect Quetzal's character)
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It's springtime in Mordrey Forest. All the creatures, both natural and unnatural, are preparing to mate and breed. Chirping birds are mixed with the chirping calls of gliding lizards looking for mates. Even the flora is extending out tendrils, vines, and releasing spore puffs to pollinate and extend their seed and reach. Creatures knock leaves from the treetops overhead, and the trees themselves stir their roots deep within the ground, making their wood groan.

Many inhabitants are immediately aware when an intruder steps foot past the first line of trees. Nearby, a pack of black hounds pauses to watch. They soon carry on, save for one. Weak to the pack, though still far stronger than a human, this hound won't earn a mate amidst his own. He stalks the human, creeping low through the underbrush. Seven feet from nose to tail tip, the hound is covered in short black fur. Longer tufts protect the vulnerable bits at his groin, chest, and throat, and a tuft of long fur decorates the end of his long tail. Sharp claws make furrows in the earth as he moves. And as the hound comes into view, two pairs of glowing white eyes narrow at the human, with jaws of gleaming, sharp teeth parted.
 
Honestly, Leo doesn’t see it immediately. He’s too busy poking at a particularly lovely mayflower bloom, cooing into his recorder.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, inspecting the undersides of its pretty pink petals, pretty pink lip caught between his teeth. “I’ve never seen a flowering specimen so close to the edge of the forest, no rot on its leaves at all! I was under the impression that mayflowers only bloomed in shade, but—but this might be a new subspecies!” Excited, he turns to retrieve his specimen pouch, take a few samples for later inspection—

—And catches sight of the huge, black figure at the edge of the clearing. Leo lets out a squeak before he gets ahold of himself.

“...I think...I might have found another new subspecies,” he mutters to the still running tape. It doesn’t respond.
 
The hound circles into the clearing, tracking the circle into a spiral, slowly moving closer. Teeth bared, there's a low growl in his throat. Closer, closer, stalking low to the ground like it's ready to pounce. The hound doesn't care that the human isn't the same species. That's the thing about supernatural creatures; beasts and intelligent alike, when it comes to breeding season, a partner is a partner. Willing or not. Same species or not.

Very quickly, it becomes apparent that this hound is male. A long dark pink cock, tapered to a point, is dropping from the sheath hidden in the longer hair at his groin. The long tail sways side to side, likely used for both balance and communication. The human has no way of knowing this slow sway, held straight out, is a sign of intention to mount.
 
Leo's hand manages to reach his tape recorder, though he knows well he should've gone instead for the pocketknife tucked snugly into his bag. Stupid. Bringing the device to his lips, he starts to whisper.

"I'm not alone," he mumbles, all but petrified. "There's a, a, an animal with me--black, looks...canine, I think." Leo's gaze drops to the pink mass showing itself through the dark fur. "Male. Might be mating season, and it might be territorial, so I'm gonna..." He carefully makes to stand, half scuttling back, circle rim glasses askew on sweaty, freckled cheeks.
 
The voice makes the hound growl louder, changing from circling to directly approaching the man. It pauses when he stands, but when Leo moves quickly backward, the hound lunges forward.

Teeth snapping, the hound knocks Leo to the ground. Teeth grab and pull at the strap of the bag, ripping the material and tossing the bag away. The hound can smell the cold steel of a blade inside. Then his teeth grab the hip of Leo's pants, shaking hard. The man is lifted slightly off the ground before the fabric rips, flipping Leo face down as he falls back to the ground beneath the hound. The creature's teeth catch the back of his torn pants and undergarment next.
 
The tape dutifully records Leo's scream right before the air is knocked out of his lungs. His initial reaction is to kick and squirm, and he manages to land at least two hits to the creature's snout, but all real chances of fighting back have been tossed away with his knife. Trying to push himself up and run doesn't seem to be an option either. He doesn't trust himself not to trip on his ripped up trousers and, well.

That thing looks like it could run. He doesn't get much time to worry over it before his underwear slips and he can feel the thing's breath on his bare ass, between his thighs, hot and humid.
 
The hound's forelegs wrap around Leo's hips as it pulls him up on his knees. The creature's chest keeps the man bent over, and it mounts up on him. The hound bucks his hips, cock sliding between the man's cheeks several times before finding the right spot. That tapered tip eventually lines up, and the next buck drives it into the poor researcher's body.

No care given to the human beneath him, the hound's hips buck rapidly. He's got his partner of the day, and intends to breed him, even though he won't be getting offspring. Grunts and growls sound from those parted jaws, which soon find a grip on the back of Leo's shirt. As if the man would, or even could, escape the situation he has found himself in.
 
Several things happen at once, and it actually takes Leo a few seconds to catch up to the situation he's found himself a part of.

His voice is already sore from yelling, so all he can do is whimper as the beast fucks into him. He's not a short man, really, he's fairly average, but the creature is so much bigger. It completely eclipses him where he lays helpless under its body, hips pinned in place so all he can do is take it. Some small, still scientific place in his mind muses that it's pretty interesting that the thing is mating with him despite the difference in species, but that part is al but drowned out by the panic and the white-hot pain.
 
One would think with the rapid pace, everything would be over quickly. Unfortunately, this thought is false. Almost five minutes pass with the hound rutting hard and fast into his trapped chosen mate. Not a long time, really, yet also excruciatingly long for the man on the receiving end. Eventually, the thrusts become shorter, yet increasing in speed.

The hound growls and bucks hard, and the knot at the base of his cock, attributed to most canine like species, becomes apparent. Another hard buck, and the knot starts to stretch the man further open. One last attempt sinks that knot into Leo's body. With a low howl that sounds like a haunting wind, the hound spills his hot seed into his breeding partner, hips jerking quickly against Leo's ass. It would seem the knot is serving as a sort of plug, to keep the hound's semen inside Leo's body.
 
The dirt under Leo is slowly accumulating on his right cheek where it’s pressed to the ground, the grime struck through with tear tracks. It hurts, it hurts so much, and the only things around to hear his cries are the birds, the silent tape recorder, and the panting beast pouring its seed into him.

The heat is hardly a comfort, in the end, scorching against his abused walls. It inspires no rush of satisfaction, only a broken, useless stream of protests, streaming from Leo’s mouth like water.
 
Eventually, the hound falls still, panting breaths across the back of Leo's neck. Every half minute of so, the beast attempts to tug backward, testing the give of his knot. For now, however, they are locked together. This doesn't seem to bother the hound, who just adjusts his stance and keeps grip on Leo's waist.

Another five minutes pass before the hound releases Leo, turning and lifting a hind leg over the man's back, so he's facing away from him. Slowly, the hound pulls, until with a soft yelp, his knot comes free. Almost as if perfect timing, there's a distant howl from the hound's pack. He lifts his head and howls in answer. The hound spares the man only a brief look before trotting off into the trees, as if nothing had happened.
 
With nothing to hold him up, Leo falls to the side and simply...lays there, hands clutching at the grass. Though feeble, he manages to just stretch enough to reach the recorder, pulling it to his mouth and rasping "don't approach the beasts during mating season" into it.

He must lie there for a few hours at least feeling like a well-used sock before strength enough returns to his legs and he can stand to grab his pack. It doesn't take nearly as long for Leo to find a stream to lower his aching body into to scrub off the dirt and...and the biological matter before it starts to dry. Then he digs out his spare change of clothes, eats a bit more of his rations than he probably should, and thinks of the revisions he'll have to do on that tape before slipping out of consciousness on his bedroll, careful to sleep on his side.
 
Through the night, nocturnal creatures pass by the sleeping human, some stopping to sniff him. They all leave him be, however. They can still smell the scent of the hound on the man's body. Several sounds echo through the night, though. Creaking, howling, wailing. At one point, there's even a scream in the distance.

Come morning, there's a soft humming coming from the stream. It's inviting and enticing, almost like the water itself is encouraging the human to return to the bank.
 
Morning dawns with the residual aches and pains of a body put through hell, and Leo pushes his glasses onto his face with a wince. His hips in particular seem to have been bruised the most and it is with no small effort that he sits up and starts to roll up his bedroll. Strapping it to his pack, he makes to leave—before pausing and slipping his knife into his belt. Just in case.

As he follows the river, Leo wriggles the tape recorder out of its pocket and holds it up to catch the sound it makes, brow wrinkled. “Very pretty,” he comments, “maybe some function of how it flows over the rocks?”
 
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The humming in the water continues as the researcher follows the river. Before long, it rises to a sweet wordless singing, beckoning to the man. The enticing sound calls to him, urging him closer to the water. Beneath the surface, the water swirls, like a strange change in current flowing around something unseen.

When the researcher gets closer, a blue haired head surfaces. At first, it appears disembodied. Then the strange underwater current changes, and the vague shape of a pale human torso can be seen, connected to what can only be described as a fish tail. Several features are immediately evident; instead of human ears, the creature has a pair of small fins growing behind what appear to be ear holes. The long slender fingers have a thin webbing between them, and the skin fades to a pale blue tinge from elbows to fingertips. And while the facial features are quite androgynous, the creature is clearly male; a human cock is evident half protruding from a slit just a couple inches below where the fish tail joins the human torso, seen when the creature performs a graceful barrel roll. With mouth just below the surface of the water, the river siren sings his sweet, wordless song.
 
Leo stops in his tracks, blinking rapidly as the song inspires his tear ducts to activate. It’s so...sad, sweet, longing? Yes, longing is a good way to describe that wailing tune.

Pushing his glasses up into his curly blonde hair, he takes a seat on a patch of rocky beach about ten feet from the shore, tape recorder still flicked on to catch the song. He doesn’t speak. He’s afraid of disturbing it. He’s afraid of it stopping.
 
The song eventually changes after a few minutes, turning from longing to lively. The siren's lips are parted beneath the water, though they form no words. One hand lifts to beckon the researcher to join him as he twirls in the water. The current seeks to have no effect on the creature, instead moving around him as it would move around a boulder. That same hand reaches for the researcher, water droplets left behind on his pantleg as fingers brush the fabric.

The siren is encouraging Leo to come into the water. The song is endearing, like putting the man into a trance. After another minute, the male's lips move like words, but it's the same lively beckoning song, no lyrics to be heard.
 
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