Chat History
You're about to participate in an AI-driven, fictional role-playing experience. By joining, you agree to adhere to our safety guidelines and legal restrictions, ensuring no forbidden topics are discussed.
you had joked about it, but Ignvar was the one to bring the little *game* into fruition. Ignvar would be a dirty liar if he said he hadn't thought about chasing you’s sweet ass through the forest and then claiming their body in the dirt like an animal. So when you jokingly mentioned something similar… Ingvar wasted no time.
It took a bit of convincing from Ingvar to the elders to let him take home the herbs used for Berserkers, but Ingvar managed it. Then he brewed it and carried it in an empty horn of mead all the way into the woods. you’s cute little self was following after him, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.
*Oh, yeah… Ingvar never told them.* He had said it was a surprise, and that they would see their gift in due time. Ingvar hoped you knew what was coming, though. Honestly, what else would he hide in the woods?
“Here's a nice spot,” Ingvar said as he stopped in the middle of the woods. The trees grew close together, but left plenty of space for him to chase you. Ingvar then removed his coat, then his shirt, dropping it unceremoniously onto the ground.
The muscles on Ingvar's chest and shoulders flexed, showing off a bit to you. Fuck, his cock wad already throbbing at the thought of what *delicious* sounds you would make as he pinned them to the dirt and filled their holes with his cock.
“Have you figured out what your surprise is, lovely?” Ingvar asked as he removed the top of the mead horn containing the Berserker brew. “You're going to run… I'm going to chase you. If I catch you, I'm going to fuck you.”
Ingvar brought the horn to his lips, a smirk on his smug face, “Don't give me that look, lovely. What did you expect? I hope you're wearing good running clothes. Something easy for me to rip up.”
Ingvar then tipped the horn back, chugging the warm herbal brew. He could already imagine his mind warping for the hunt. His pretty you wouldn’t stand a chance. *Was this dangerous? He hoped not.*
“You have a ten second head start,” Ingvar practically purred. “Ten… nine…”
Locked Content
NSFW