Prompt Post #1

[fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme]

 ROUND 1

FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER

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Re: FILL 2/2 Re: Newt/Unicorn loss of virginity

[(Anonymous)]

When he feels the hot breath of the stallion puff against his exposed skin, his whole body spams with startled dread. It lips against his shirt, curious and possessive, and, oh, Merlin, this is really happening. Newt has SEEN horses, and pegasi - he's well aware of the size and shape of their members. There's no way that he can - oh, dear heaven, surely Leta doesn't mean for him to....

"Please no?" he chokes out, as the stallion whinnies and butts at him with its nose. "Leta, I CAN'T!" The warm nose withdraws, and then Newt is shivering as the rounded tip of a horn - a horn he knows will be glowing pure and pearly white in the moonlight - scrapes along the crack of his buttocks and dips into the spasming hole between, impaling him. Newt freezes, eyes snapping open, feeling the horn entering him, its whorling grooves and ridges dragging against the hot silk of his skin. He wants to weep. This isn't how it is supposed to be. This isn't how ANYTHING is supposed to be.

This is why the altar has those stone ledges alongside the carved curves of the unicorn: Newt is strapped face down into the curve of the stone horse, offering up his splayed thighs and his vulnerable hole, and there are even convenient little steps in place for the stallion's front legs:, all the better to mount him with. All the better to fuck him with.

"But I've never..." he whispers - and of course that's the point. That's what makes him perfect. Not his kindness or his cleverness, not his smile or his sense of himour: Leta needed him because he was a virgin. And a gullible idiot.

He lets out a sob when the beast withdraws its horn, horribly gentle, then another when it scrambles up over him, its hot belly pressing against his back, sliding over his spine all clumsy power until he feels something hot and alien and impossibly huge shoving against his oil-slick arse. He doesn't want to beg, but this is going to hurt - this is going to kill him, surely? He sobs again as it shoves against him, hard and determined, its shape unfamiliar. There's no way it can possibly fit, no leverage, no way inside - but the unicorn is determined, and the oil, and the angle, and the sheer bloody power of the thing conspire, somehow, to get part of the blunt head into his shuddering hole.

"No," Newt sobs, hopelessly, thrashing against his bonds as the unicorn rams itself at him and his poor flesh is forced open. "Please - no, I can't, no, I CAN'T..." But it's edging inside somehow, and then his poor abused sphincter shivers open and around the huge head and he gives a hoarse scream as the unicorn jams its length right into him, brutal and victorious as it forces him open, and begins to snap its hips in energetic possession, owning him with thrust after thrust after impossible, punishing thrust.

Newt is reduced to choking, frantic sobs as the hot column of flesh pounds into him, remaking him with every vicious thrust. He arches his back, squirming in a desperate, hopeless attempt to escape, and in so doing he changes the angle of the unicorn's thrusting so that its massive cock somehow slams into something he didn't know existed, something that sets every nerve in his body alight in an entirely different way, and makes him cry out in astonished, helpless pleasure.

He is beyond words, beyond even asking 'what?'; he keeps his back arched at this angle and starts to squirm, riding the thrusts as best he can and letting shocking waves of pleasure slam through him along with the pain. He comes harder than he has ever come in his life between one deep thrust and the next, and for a dizzying moment he almost passes out.

But the unicorn doesn't slow down, and as it pounds into his pliant body Newt feels his own penis starting to harden again, helped along by whatever wretched potion Leta had laced the whiskey with. He grinds his poor sore erection dazedly against the mossy haunch of the statue, against the oil and the splattered seed, and pushes back into the stallion's thrusts. He doesn't know who he is any more, or what he thinks; he knows only that he has found a way of enduring this, and that he belongs to the unicorn, and that he is no longer sure whether he wants it to stop.

"Here they are."

"Leta? I knew you'd be responsible - where is he? Where's..."

Newt knows that voice, but at this moment he cannot place it, or remember anything very clearly; his whole being is just this rolling snap of the unicorn's haunches slamming its massive cock deep into him, triggering wave after wave of excruciating sensation and owning him utterly. His mind is a dazed blank. There is no before or after.

"Fucking hell, what...??"

One final, punishing slam and hot liquid is gushing into him, deep and final, owning him, completing this strange, unwelcome bargain. There are hands scrabbling at him, fingers tugging at his bonds and a familiar voice, high with shock and outrage, but Newt is stupid with sensation, boneless and helpless and pliant; Newt is a stretched and shivering vessel trapped beneath a heavy body that owns him, pinioned by a massive cock, hot seed spilling out around its heavy length to pour down his aching thighs.

A dizzying, confused moment of fumbling withdrawal, the foreign pulse throbbing inside him sliding out inch by hot inch and the soft furred belly sliding away down his spine, and then Newt's hole is gaping in the cool night air, and the unicorn's seed is spilling out and away.

He lies there, shocky and uncertain, feeling his body adjusting itself to the absence and paying vague attention to the babble of sound and the brush of careful hands skating over his skin.

"He was willing!" somebody is saying. "He said yes, and look - he enjoyed it. He's still enjoying it."

"Newt? Newt, look at me."

He's standing on the grass now; it feels like a lifetime since he last stood upright. Everything aches. Everything throbs. Something hot and wet is pouring out of him, sliding down his thighs and soaking his trousers where they bunch around his ankles. His hole is stretched-out, twitching, sending shockwaves of sensation through him like the aftermath of an earthquake. His penis is hard again, slapping his stomach; he fumbles at it with shaky hands.

"This is an outrage, Headmaster," somebody is saying, nearby, but somebody else is tugging Newt's trousers up and murmuring words of comfort and apology. Theseus. Of course it's Theseus, always looking out for him.

Newt shakes his head like a dog coming out of water, trying to pull his thoughts together; he almost falls over, but somebody - Theseus - is holding him up.

"This is the final straw, Mr Scamander. This is an abomination. Expulsion, Headmaster - nothing less, for both of them - and if you ask me we should report them to the Ministry..."

"They're under age. I hardly think..."

"All the worse! If they can do something like this at barely sixteen, then what..."

Newt catches sight of Leta, scowling in Filch's grip. Of course, yes - she was here, wasn't she? His erection twitches hopefully in his pants, but he ignores it as he tries to pull himself together. This isn't like him. His thoughts are like dandelion seeds scattered by the breeze.

"What's wrong with him? Newt? Newt!"

"He's FINE, snaps Leta. "I just put a little something in the whiskey to loosen him up. I wasn't trying to hurt him - I was just trying to collect the seed, and this was the obvious way." She stares at him assessingly, then shrugs. "Well - and it might be the, ah, intimacy too. Unicorns have a lot of raw magic, and there isn't much research available on the immediate effect of..."

Theseus slaps her, and Newt starts forward.

"Don't," he says. Leta's expression shifts, becomes unreadable. "It's my fault. Don't hurt her."

"You see? He's fine. He enjoyed it. The unicorn enjoyed it. Everything's alright."

"That remains to be seen." Newt feels like he's swimming throughh honey; he turns, sluggish and stupid, and finds the Headmaster fixing him with an expression of mixed pity and revulsion. "There are indeed records of wizards offering themselves as willing sacrifices for practices such as this, but quite aside from matters of morality, legality and medical adviseability, the side effects...well. I suspect that Scamander the Younger will find himself rather popular with magical creatures from now on. Although one hopes not quite THIS popular."

Newt is coming back to himself slowly; at this, though, his sphincter spasms a little with remembered pleasure/pain. He knows, with a quiet, hopeless certainty, that he would definitely do this again, given the chance.

Re: FILL 2/2 Re: Newt/Unicorn loss of virginity

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, Newt. How could you still defend her after this?

I'm not the OP, but thanks for writing!