It began with a tide.
Not of water—
But of milk and crimson sap, churning together until the valley below looked like a living vein.
From the north, the Milk River ran warm and white, swollen with the surrender of the milkmaids.
From the south, the Bleeding Dark flowed thick and red, heavy with the Crimson Mare's nectar.
At the valley's center, they met—
and the earth trembled like a cunt on the edge of climax.
Kaito stood at the confluence, bare-chested, cock hanging heavy, still glistening with the Mare's blood-oath.
Kaori was at his side, wearing only a belt of vine-leashes attached to four kneeling milkmaid-priestesses, their udders leaking in rhythm with the current.
Nyxa sat astride her squirt-beast, letting it lap from the mixed river until its mouth dripped pink foam.
The Crimson Mare stood behind them, no longer the feared predator of whispered stories, but a towering, scarlet-bodied queen with her thighs marked by Kaito's seed.
