The Bewitching Hour

Within the other rooms of the manor laid a few of Beatrix’s close companions and newly formed friendships. Dion, a sturdy warrior ram and brother to Oona Ewe, was among the few soundly asleep. His brows furrowed, a string of soft murmurs leaving his mouth as his dream took the burly ram back to his distant homeland within the Lost World.

The Isle of Pàrras. A peaceful, beautiful landscape of stone, meadows, and luscious woods, home to the mysterious fae. After years of migration and through the great union of the clan chieftain and faerie queen, the fauns and satyrs finally found a place they could call their own. Eventually, a few minotaurs and centaurs were welcomed, helping the community grow and develop without disrupting the harmony established by the ancient faes.

Some fae creatures began to live among the new residence not long after, helping the clan clean and farm with food and gold as payment. The only place they actively avoided was the forge, as steel was poisonous to all faekind. And it was within this smithy that Dion recalled the majority of his youth.

Metal clanged, steel hissed. The young ram felt his muscles strain as he tried to hammer his weapon into shape. Sparks of ambers flew with every bash until he put away the tool, wiping the sweat off his forehead. His once clean alabaster fur was covered in soot, as were his apron and gloves.

With a frustrated sigh, Dion dipped the searing steel into the cooling bucket. The blade was much too big for him to properly hold, his arms shaking. Yet Dion was confident he would grow into it eventually.

Not too far, another hammer was pounding away as he turned towards his father, busy building his own weapon. While his rule was dubious at times, no one could deny the impressive work Lord Haden had accomplished during his legendary reign. Holding the mantle of chieftain the longest, the four-horned mountain of a ram had earned a respected reputation.

Yet, even when approaching his later years, as evident by his steely grey wool, Lord Haden could throw down with those far younger and quicker.

Until a worthy successor proved themself worthy, the Jakobson sheep was adamant on holding onto his title, despite his waning strength. Dion equally admired and craved his father’s position, pouring blood and sweat into bulking up and competing for the mantle one day. This proved a more daunting task, since part of Dion’s training involved forging a perfect blade.

The young ram pulled out his latest attempt, the cooled metal wisping with steam. Hefted by both hands on the hilt, Dion approached the older ram and knelt on a knee, presenting the freshly forged blade. Putting his own tools down, Haden took his son’s creation and gave it a look over, checking every inch of its shiny edge.

Narrowing his cherry-red eyes, he dropped the sword carelessly onto the ground with a clatter. “No good,” he said with a grunt of dissatisfaction. “Start again.”

“Whit!?” Dion exclaimed in disbelief, picking the tossed blade back up. “Are ye bustin’ mah baws, dad!? This is th’ biggest blade A’ve built yet!”

“Aye, with laymen eyes, it’s quite th’ attractive blade. But any good blacksmith can see th’ carelessness of its maker.” The stout ram pointed towards the edge’s center, where a tiny crack was forming upon close examination. “One good swing, an’ this will break under pressure. Start again.”

“Oh, furfuxake! It’s just a wee flaw!”

“Any flaw is bad enough.”

“A’m not a perfectionist like ye, Dad. Ah don’t have time fur this! Th’ hiehlain games are a week away. Ah need a blade if A’m goin’ tae compete, dad! This sword will be more than enough!”

Haden sighed heavily, facing his son as his Onoma, his arcane magic flashed around his hand, summoning his own bulky sword. “Very well…show me then.”

With a battle cry, Dion charged and took a wild swing. Without missing a beat, the elderly ram released his weapon and caught the blade by its point and, with enough pressure between his finger and thumb, shattered Dion’s hard work into pieces before his eyes.

One broken shard flies past the young ram’s cheek, crying out as it sliced into his flesh, bright blood gushing from a wound that would surely scar. Dion seethed with pain, clutching his injured face while looking over the remnants of his sword, the floor littered with other blades that were deemed failures.

“Ah warned ye,” Haden reminded grimly, towering over his son. “One flaw is all it takes. Now, let me see yer eye-”

“Get off me!!” Dion brayed, pushing his father away, tears streaming down his face. “Ye said ye would help me, but all ye’ve done is reject all my efforts! Yer a stubborn old man!”

“Ah can’t help someone who ain’t willin’ tae learn from their mistakes.”

“Baagh!!!” Dion brayed, slamming his fist into the anvil, ignoring searing he was causing himself. The pain he had gotten used to. It was the humiliation he could not handle…

“A’ve spent sae long forgin’ these dingy blades, an’ not one ov them was good enough. Am Ah just…destined tae be a weaklin’?”

Another deep exhale left his father’s torso-length beard as he gripped Dion’s shoulders and pulled the young ram around, wet crimson eyes meeting soften cherry orbs. “A weapon does not make th’ man,” Haden answered. “It's th’ man an’ what he does that make th’ weapon. Ye’re too focused on th’ result an’ praise, instead ov makin’ sure there aren’t any cracks. If ye can not give me a proper sword, how can Ah trust that our people will be safe in yer hands?”

Meekly, Dion nodded and wrenched as Haden ran a thumb under the freshly made cut, wiping away some blood. “Mmm. Ye're lucky ye didn’t lose an eye. Any weapon can be rebuilt, but not at th’ cost ov yer sight or senses. Now go see Fidelma an’ take a break. Then, when ye're ready, come back an’ try again.”

“Y-yes, father...” The young ram sniffled, leaving the forge with bitterness and contempt. No one else could make him feel so small. Not even the bullies he bashed skulls with whenever they picked on him or Oona. But deep down, he understood that his father’s bluntness was necessary if the young ram ever hoped to prove his worth.

So, after Fidelma, the masked soothsayer and advisor to the chief, patched up his wound and prepared lunch for him, young Dion returned to the forge and started anew. Again, he would forge another blade, only for him to cast his work aside upon spotting the cracks and crooked shapes. Groaning, he threw away his shortcomings and tried again.

This process repeated long into the day’s end, where the chief returned to check up on his son. Haden noted the pile of discarded swords, spotting Dion delivering one final hammer to his weapon before dipping it into the cooling bucket.

The young ram was soaked in perspiration, panting hotly while leaning against the stone pillar for support. His hands felt numb, shaking from all the hours he spent building. Grunting, he was about to reach for the hilt until Lord Haden stepped in, pulling out his son’s latest creation.

He studied the pristine steel, humming thoughtfully while stroking his long braided beard. Then, casting a glance towards the large boulder in the room, the elderly ram walked over and, using both hands, took a mighty swing.

Dion tore his gaze away and closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable sound of steel breaking onto the floor. Yet, the only thing he heard was a hard clang. Opening one eye, Dion saw that not only did the saber survive the impact, but it also managed to leave a scarred crack over the rock’s surface.

Haden turned back to his son, his mustache covering a proud smile. “This is what good looks like,” he told Dion before handing him back the sword. “It may not last long in a real battle, but it’ll hold up nicely fur th’ hiehlain games. Well done, son.”

The young ram did say a word. Just stared in astonishment over his creation, surprised to find it in one piece. “I… I-I did it!”

The chief ram nodded before warning, “Don’t let that go to yer head. Rulers do not earn respect through shoutin’ demands or throwin’ tantrums. They gain it through dedication and hard work. Remember that, Dion.”

“I-I will, father,” the young ram smiled, placing his sword back onto the anvil.

“Now come along, son. Ye’ve at least earned yerself a beer,” the older ram chuckled, patting his boy on the back as the two left the smithy to have a drink over Dion’s small achievement.

*****

Thunder cracked across the sky as rain poured heavily over the Isle of Pàrras. Mud splashed and filled Dion's mouth as he was flung into the mushy ground. Over him stood a victorious minotaur, who soaked in the crowd's mixed reactions of cheers and boos. The battered young ram gazed over his discarded sword, nearly half-buried in the muck. Raising to a knee, he clung to his injured ribs, casting a frustrated glare to his opponent, who cockily snorted,

“Better luck next time, runt!”

Before Dion could retort an insult, a pair of referees urged him to rest on the sidelines, pulling him aside as the final stage of the tournament went underway. While walking, he looked towards the royal seat, Oona cupping her hand to boo along with the onlookers. But the one Dion couldn’t face properly was Lord Haden, who rose from his throne and prepared to face the champion.

One steely look was all the sorely bruised ram needed to understand how disappointed his father was. No matter how stoic the quad-horned chief appeared, it was evident to all who knew him how badly he wanted his son to win.

Dion hung his head in shame, ignoring the medical team, and made a quiet exit from the arena. He didn’t need to watch to know his father would once again successfully defend his title. The poor faun sat by a pound, staring in turmoil at his reflection, rubbing a chipped tooth with his tongue.

Whatever confidence he built up was instantly deflated. Internally, Dion loathed himself for letting his family down. His father wouldn’t be chieftain forever, and if he didn’t step up, someone else would claim the chief’s mantle. But it became clear to the young ram he wasn’t learning anything by staying on this island.

So, with a heavy heart and determination, Dion decided his best option was to leave home and acquire the strength, skill, and mentality needed to fight and protect.

When night fell, Dion slipped through the village to gather his belongings, leaving a written letter in the forge for his father to read. Thankfully, his sword remained intact, retrieving it from the muddied fields. Accompanied by a shield, a sack heaved over his shoulder, and adorning a green cape, Dion walked towards the docks, where a lone boat floated along the wavy banks.

What he didn’t expect to find was his sister, waiting there with a pensive expression. For a moment, silence hung among their locked gaze before Dion began to speak.

“Oona, listen. Ah-”

“Ah know Ah can’t convince ye tae stay,” she cut off, sporting a sad smile. “Just…tell me ye’re not leavin’ because ov the games. Don’t beat yerself over it. Ye got so far!!”

“Aye, Ah did,” he admitted. “But in defeat, Ah learned a harsh lesson. My best doesn’t cut it if a stronger opponent steps over me. Sae as much as it pains me tae leave, Ah feel like it’s th’ only way A’m going to grow. Dad will understand.”

Giving a slight nod, Oona locked her arms around Dion and brought their heads together. They held each other tenderly, both reluctant to let the other go.

“Promise me ye’ll come back,” she insisted. “That ye won’t get yerself killed!”

“Ah promise,” he nodded, pulling back with a smile. “A’ll come home once Ah know A’m worthy. Farewell, sister.”

With nothing more to regret, Dion left the mystic Isles of Parras to pursue the warrior’s path. The alabaster ram partook in many wars, often changing the tides of battle in his favor. And after vigorous training, fighting, and wandering, he discovered his archaic signature, his Onoma, in Ares.

Like his father before him, Dion earned a reputation as a bullheaded, brash, yet poetic hero who fought for the weak and opposed those who abused strength. It wouldn’t be until many years until he reached contact with his sister again, where she invited him to the manor in celebration of Midnight and Cerise’s wedding. He also indulged with the promiscuous witch who captivated her heart.

*****

The dreams of Dion’s youth were slowly interrupted as the ram stirred awake. A spike of pleasure surged from his loins, feeling something small and wet stroke along either side. Casting a groggy glance down his bare, chiseled chest, he spotted the twin pair of crystal ponies prostrated before him, lapping away at his red member like ice cream. Save for the stockings and heels, their sparkling coral pink bodies were entirely on display, which served to make the warrior harder once he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Gosh, sister! Look at how big his balls are,” Foal-Bearer murmured, burying her snout into his massive wooly sack, inhaling his masculine aroma.

“Mmm,” her sister moaned, dragging her tongue from base to tip, which she kissed and suckled. “I heard rams possess high sperm volumes. I can hardly wait to milk out every last drop~!”

“Naughty lil’ minxes, aren’t ye?” Dion wheezed between his teeth as their half-lidded eyes coyly met him.

“Are you opposed?” Wet Nurse asked slyly before taking his tip back into her mouth.

“O-oh, not at all!” The Alabaster ram managed to say with a cocked smile. “If Ah knew such lovely ladies would be joinin’ me in bed, Ah would have been better prepa-aaaahh!”

Foal-Bearer tugged at one of his balls with her mouth, smooching his fuzzy orb before tending to its twin. Wet Nurse bobbed her head over his veiny shaft, saliva dripping down her lips. Eventually, she popped off to continue their conversation while rubbing the thick slab of meat against her cheek.

“Forgive our sudden intrusion. It’s just… we’ve been a little needier ever since Moon Hammer made off with our counterparts.” The crystal maid cooed, recalling how possibly the minotaur rutted them before eloping with a new pair from another world.

“Aye, Ah get that. So why did ye go after me?” The burly ram asked.

“You looked equally as impressive,” Foal-Bearer answered, prying off his wet breeding bag to scoot closer towards his spit-covered cock. “We wanted to see if we could win you over~!”

“Heh! Well,” Dion groaned, shifting his position to sit up without pulling away from the twin’s grasp. “A’d say ye’re a step in the right direction~!”

Both mares beamed at him with lascivious eyes while nuzzling his beating breeder, their bare heart-shaped posteriors prostrated into the air. “We live to serve~.”

And service, they did. Wet Nurse and Foal-Bearer took slow, sensuous strips off his dick until every inch of reddish male meat was coated in their saliva. Dion moaned with gratitude, hands brushing over their heads while eyeing their wiggling their peach-shaped asses. The crystal twins took turns seeing who could shove the most of his cock down their throat. Wet Nurse managed to fit a good amount as she noisily gagged and choked around Dion. Foal-Bearer, however, engulfed every inch of his phallus in one go, slurping on it like a straw while massaging those large swollen testicles, earning a much louder response from the ram.

“Pft! You were always the biggest cocksucker,” Wet Nurse playfully teased her twin. “You’ve practically turned it into an artform~!”

“Gmmh!! Mwah~! What can I say,” she gasped upon popping it out, a thread of drool mixed with precum connecting her glazed lips to her treat. “I like putting things in my mouth. Helps me concentrate~!”

The two giggled and began sloppily kissing each other around the tip, moaning and twirling their tongue to scoop up the salty pre oozing out and beaded on his tip.

“A-Aaauuh, fuck!! Ye’re both terrific,” Dion murmured, his eyes closed while he eased into their skilled oral work. Not that it surprised him much, since he'd heard when they worked for Cadance both routinely serviced Shining Armor at her behest. The two managed to squeeze out a lot of precum to suckle off, making the burly warrior squirm and grumble in anticipation.

“Hehe~! It pleases us to hear you make such sounds, sir,” Foal-Bearer cooed, planting soft, wet kisses along the veiny edge.

Wet Nurse licked her lips clean of his pre before adding, “You humble us, yet this is merely what we were born to do.”

Dion was catching his breath before his brows furrowed. “W-wait, that can’t be true,” he murmured, pulling away slightly to see his swollen testicles soaked in mixed spit and discharge. “Ah mean, ye’re obviously talented at this, but…don’t ye ever consider life outside ov being servants?”

His question made the pair pause in their ministrations, turning to each other in surprise before returning their gaze to Dion. “A-ah.... Of course, we do,” Foal-Bearer confirmed. “We actually often fantasize about life outside the manor…”

“But it can only be a fantasy.” Wet Nurse frowned. “Our souls and bodies are forever bound to this place. If we tried to leave… poof!” She brandished her free hand in the air. “Mistress Bellatrix was kind enough to increase the mansion’s radius of influence outside, but that’s as far as we dare go.”

“But who knows! Maybe one day, we'll have this whole asteroid to explore, once it’s terraformed,” Foal-Bearer said wistfully.

“That still hardly seems fair,” Dion said with a pursed snout. “Kind ov reminds me ov silkies back at home.”

“Silkies?” They both perked up with curiosity.

“Aye. Hearthbound ghosts,” the ram explained. “When a female fae dies within a house or castle, their soul tethers tae th’ establishment until it can no longer stand. Adorned in a silky dress or robe, they take care ov chores an’ provide for each family that comes an’ goes. If there's any treasure or valuables, they’ll ward off any intruders with malevolent force.”

The crystal maids huddled closer to the ram, intrigued by these spirits and their similarities.

“A silkie could be released if the master ov th’ house grants her permission when asked. So, maybe yer situation isn’t that far off? Maybe Ah could help find a way tae unbind ye if it's possible.”

Their eyes widened and moistened a tad at his bold proclamation.

“You would…do that?”

“For us?!”

Dion gave a smile and backed himself into the pillow, arms spread open. “Come up. Let’s get to know each other a little. A’m sure ye don’t often get the chance tae talk about yerselves.”

The twins looked at each other and shared a nod. Then, slowly, they crawled over the muscular ram before huddling him as his arms wrapped around each mare. While comfortable in their cuddling, the twins gingerly stroked his shaft, thumbs rubbing over his tip, causing him to lightly groan. Dion could feel their soft breasts squish into his sides, which helped in keeping him erect.

“Well, for starters,” Foal-Bearer began, resting her head closer to the ram’s heart. “We were born with a special cutie mark that connected us on an almost psychic level.”

Dion’s crimson eyes followed the crystal maid’s hand to highlight her flank, the interlocking symbols of venus almost shimmering.

“Anything happens to one; the other feels as well,” Wet Nurse cooed, a hand sliding down her stomach to tend her dripping wet snatch. And as her fingers stroked inside her velvety lips, both she and her sister shuddered and mewled. “We share everything together. Joy, pain…mmm, and pleasure~!”

Foal-Bearer explained, “Our parents labeled us perverse before abandoning us to the streets. We were taken to an orphanage, as the authorities weren't able to track them down. We're not sure what happened to them. We were worried we would be separated...until one day Princess Cadance heard about our unusual nature, and took us into her service where she trained us.”

Wet Nurse continued after her twin, “We learned about court etiquette. How to sing, dance, and when we came of age…how to ‘serve' them.” Her smile widened over the nostalgia. “The couple invited us into their bedroom, you see. Princess Cadance had to travel a lot, and needed someone to tend to her husband while she was away.” Titters rose from the pair, coiling their grip around his thick cock while their marehoods gushed with feminine lubricant at lurid memories.

“We were okay becoming their personal breeders,” Foal-Bearer insisted through slight gasps. “We threw away our old names and, with them, our old lives. We became completely subservient to the family and embraced our role. To us, it was the highest honor to serve the royal bloodline.”

“Mmm,” Dion grumbled as more pre-cum was milked, dripping down to coat their fingers. “But surely, times have changed. Ye could be free mares, make a new life fur yerselves. Maybe one...with me?”

The twins were once more stunned by his bold proclamation, cheeks heated at the thought. “That’s…mighty generous of you, considering you’ve only known us a day,” Foal-Bearer reminded with a skeptical look as she pumped her sticky fist.

“And just what kind of life would you provide us?” Wet Nurse asked.

Dion gave a bashful smile. “Ah plan tae be chieftain one day. Unlike most monarchies, A’ll always be fightin’ tae keep my title. A’ll need tae take a Matanam or ‘mate’ tae ensure our bloodline persists long after A’ve been overthrown. And, while Ah haven’t been home for some time, Ah don’t recall there bein’ a rule sayin’ Ah can’t take more than one~.”

The crystal mares let out an elated gasp, their hearts fluttering over the idea of leaving the manor and starting a family for themselves. “Would we be your only wives?”

“Mmm, well, maybe one more if she’s interested, an’ if ye’re alright with it,” the white ram admitted with a sheepish chuckle. “But Ah promise, after Ah claim th’ mantle an’ free you from your spectral bounds, A’ll give ye all th’ kids ye desire. Though Ah would like tae know yer true names first.”

The twins stared at each other, considering his proposal before sporting wolfish smiles of their own. “That does sound wonderful and all, but I don’t know…” Wet nurse purred. “I think we need proof of how serious you are about us~.”

“Maybe if you satisfy us,” Foal-Bearer added in, making sure her bountiful bosom pressed furthered into Dion’s chest. “...then we might give you our names, hmm~?”

Smirking at the challenge, he rose up to secure Foal-Bearer by her shoulders, his head against hers while she fluttered her ruby-like eyes at him. “A’d be happy tae give ye a demonstration ov what life with me will be like~,” he said huskily before pressing his lips to hers. The crystal maid mewled excitedly, wrapping her arms and legs around Dion as the two heavily kissed, his pulsating member grounded against her needy slit while their hips mashed.

Not wanting to be left out, Wet Nurse clung to the ram’s side, kissing at his neck before he shifted focus and locked lips with hers. One of Dion’s hands groped Foal-Bearer’s supple rump while the other stroked and rubbed against the mound of her twin. Both mares mewled as shared pleasured synced up and stacked, their cuties marks glowing and humming in complete resonance.

“Nnaah! N-no more teasing,” Wet Nurse whined. “Give us your cock! Fuck my sister~!”

Not needing to be told twice, Dion guided the tip of his hardened cock into the crystal mare’s slippery slit, making her back arch as ecstasy spiked upon penetration.

Both hands secured Foal-bearer’s hips to bounce her on his lap, driving his cock deeper into her gushing hot honey pot. In return, she curled her legs around the warrior ram to draw him closer as he dominated her ass and pussy, which clapped below under his forceful slams.

“Aaa-ugh~! Yes! Ooh fuck, that’s it! Harder!” She chanted as her tits bounced and leaked. The slits in the tips of her pink, erect nubs dotted in droplets of milk. Licking his lips, Dion pushed his head down into her pillowy chest, popping one sucker into his maw to suckle her milk, feeling his lover squirt extra mare cum all over his groan as he nursed her bouncy tit.

“A-aagh! So ravenous,” Wet Nurse moaned, feeling her own sensitive buds be stimulated while fingering herself like a crazed mare in heat to the scene. “Yet so passionate~!”

“A-aaaaaye~! Oh, it’s been so long since we were last milked!” Her twin exclaimed, feeling Dion drain one breast before tugging on the other. “I-I haven’t gotten used to this, e-even after Shadow Scythe beheaded us and switched our a-ahh~! Bodies!”

“We could almost thank her,” Wet Nurse laughed between pants and schlicks. “We...we feel more connected than ever!”

“Well, don’t ya worry,” Dion said after sating his fill from his lover's milky, pendulous tits. “A’ll put yer names tae good use!”

Foal-Bearer squeaked in alarm when the ram rose up to his feet and started to hammer at her jiggling plot with abandon. The crystal maid started screaming to the heavens, her limbs climbing onto his broad physique for dear life while feeling that cock punch its way past her cervix into her slippery womb.

Her sister, likewise, was moaning just as loudly, feeling every inch of Dion’s massive dick surge into Foal-Bearer through their psychic link. And through it, they knew that they would never be apart, accepting the fact they would always share a lover.

Both crystal maids were brought to an orgasmic high as Dion, after all their pampering and teasing, slammed Foal-Bearer down to take his thick torrents of cum directly into her uterus. Again and again, the ram hosed down her slippery walls, flooding her core until her eggs were soaked in his virile seed. Mixing fluids leaked out of her slit, dribbling over his balls before the contents leaked all over the floor.

“A-aaaauch! F-fuck sister~! He feels amazing,” Foal-Bearer praised, hugging Dion tightly, tits mashed to his chest. “I can still feel him pumping me full of baby batter~!”

“A-as do I…. S-shit!” Wet Nurse heaved, face burning up as she drenched the bedsheets completely in her mare cum.

As Dion gave one more kiss before putting Foal-Bearer down, her tummy swelled up like a balloon, his red eyes found Wet Nurse’s violet shades. Instinctively, the crystal mare spread her legs wide for her stud, puffy lips winking with anticipation of that red hot dick stained in her sister’s pussy juice.

“R-ruin me~!” She arily begged, kneading her breasts until her burly warrior was upon her, hooking her legs over his shoulders and rolling her up into a coveted mating press. Their muzzles mashed as he slid into Wet Nurse’s marehood, and began pummeling her love tunnel to better fit only his size.

Foal-Bearer managed to recover enough to watch her sister’s wide pink ass getting tapped by the ram’s oversized balls repeatedly. The twins cried out as he absolutely pounded Wet Nurse into submission, making the bed creak noisily below them each time he sunk balls deep.

“That’s right, stud! Breed her! Claim my sister's pussy, make it yours~!” Foal-Bearer encouraged through heated gasps, whispering carelessly into his ear while her sister cried in elation. “Cum inside her. She was made to take dick and give babies~!”

Her dirty talk triggered the ram’s more aggressive side as he started to relentlessly fuck the crystal mare with short, rugged pumps. Dion groaned harshly while Wet Nurse wailed underneath, milking him more violently, as they rode out their climax until both twins cried out. “F-fuck!” The sturdy ram groaned before he followed shortly, then he sank balls deep and unloaded another fresh batch of foal batter into Wet Nurse's womb.

The pair wailed as another wave of bliss washed over them, so raw and doubled between them it almost knocked them out. Wet Nurse squeezed Dion to the last drop, trembling as he held her in place.

After catching his breath, he rolled off of the crystal maid, her gaping twat oozing out his seed as it settled onto her puckered asshole.

Both the ram and the twins laid in the bed, soaked in sweat and cum, the sheets utterly swamped with genital fluid. Dion panted hot puffs of air, his ears ringing from how hard he went on both twins. Both crystal mares managed to drag their bodies up against the ram's with a series of lusty whimpers, curling up in his arms once more and planting sweet pecks on both sides of his sweaty face.

“Fuck…what a wild ride!” Wet Nurse exclaimed, moving her kisses down to Dion’s neck while her hand rubbed his fuzzy chest.

“Invigorating,” Foal-Bearer agreed, lazily tracing over his scar. “It’s been a while since we were satisfied in such a thrilling way.”

“Aye,” Dion chuckled, his hands trending through their locks of pastel pink hair as their tits rested on him. “Ye two definitely put me through th’ wringer. Ah don’t often get to tussle two bonnie lassies at once~!”

“Mmm, Well.… We’ll have to change that once you set us free~.” They swayed their rumps.

Dion cast both mares an exhilarated look before they leaned in to whisper their names.

“Amaranth Carnation…” He looked to Foal-Bearer before turning towards Wet-Nurse. “...an’ Amethyst Butterfly Coral. Wow...such beautiful names.” He smoothed their rumps.

Both mares beamed, one twin licking the shell of his ears while the other nibbled at it, each draping a leg over his body. “Please keep it between us, okay? It’s our secret.”

The warrior ram nodded as his hands wandered south to smooth down their velvet, crystalline curves. He tenderly fondled their expansive assets, memorized their every perfect contour, as the sisters sighed and nuzzled into his barrel chest.

Soon, both maids fell asleep, leaving Dion to his thoughts, which drifted back to their predicament. No one could ever be satisfied in their position, no matter how proudly they claimed otherwise. There was more to life than living it inside as a servant or out on the battlefield. He knew this all too well, having embraced his mortality during many wars, losing plenty of good folks in the process.

One day, Dion would come back home to win the hiehlain games and settle into the life of chieftain. And he vowed to share that life with the crystal twins as his wives, once their shackles to the manor were finally broken.