Primal Instincts

Chapter 1 – The Dragon Overlord Awakens

Mordeus Seifried Roderick cracked his knuckles as the game loaded, the dark screen exploding into fiery letters: Dragon Overlord. His younger sister had nagged him for days to try it, swearing it was the most addictive thing she’d ever played. Out of curiosity, he agreed.

Now, several hours later, he found himself staring at a character that felt oddly familiar. The so-called Dragon Overlord—a towering man with broad shoulders, a wickedly handsome face, and a pair of menacing horns—commanded purple fire in his palm with terrifying ease.

Mordeus smirked faintly. “So that’s supposed to be me, huh?”

Because in truth, it was. Not in the literal sense, but the resemblance was uncanny. The same sharp jawline, the same height and physique he had worked hard to maintain, only perfected—like a reflection sculpted into something larger than life. Where his own dark eyes carried a quiet edge, the Overlord’s burned with violet flames. Where his expression was calm, the Overlord’s was tinged with arrogance and command.

He was about to log off when the screen glitched. The lights in his room flickered, dimmed, then died altogether.

“…Great. Power outage?”

But the monitor was still on—no, blazing. The Overlord’s eyes on the screen seemed to stare straight into him. His chest tightened as the light surged, pressing down on him like a tidal wave. His chair rattled. His breath hitched.

“What the—”

The screen burst into radiance, swallowing the room. He reached to shield his eyes, but his arm felt like it was being pulled forward, his entire body dragged into the glow. His pulse roared in his ears. For a split second, his reflection on the glass was not his own—it was the Overlord’s, horns gleaming, fire licking the edges of his gaze.

Then everything collapsed into white.

He awoke to the scent of damp earth. Sunlight speared through endless trees, their canopies weaving shadows across the forest floor. He blinked rapidly, his breath ragged.

This wasn’t his room.

Slowly, he sat up. His body responded with a strange weight—familiar, yet amplified. He was strong before, but now every movement carried raw power, his muscles taut with energy that hadn’t been there moments ago. Something heavy pressed on his head. When he raised his hand, his fingertips brushed against the smooth curve of horns.

His pulse raced.

He stumbled to a nearby stream. Reflected in the water was his face—his jaw, his eyes—but sharper, more commanding, violet fire simmering faintly within his gaze. He was himself, and yet more.

Purple flames answered his thoughts, sparking to life in his palm. The forest hushed around him.

“This is real…” he muttered under his breath.

The forest pressed close around him, alive with rustling leaves and distant animal cries. This was no peaceful wilderness—it was raw, untamed, and dangerous. Mordeus kept moving, his senses sharpening with every step.

Then a roar split the silence. Deep, guttural, and furious.

Branches cracked as something massive forced its way through. From the undergrowth burst a creature that looked like a wild boar from his own world—but twisted into something far more terrifying. Its body was huge, nearly the size of a horse, with dark bristling hair and tusks as long as swords. Its bloodshot eyes gleamed with rage.

And it wasn’t alone.

Ahead of the beast ran a man—broad-shouldered, lean yet powerful, his muscles taut with strain as he sprinted for his life. His skin glistened with sweat, his long brown hair flying wildly behind him. He wore only primitive clothes: a vest crudely cut from animal hide, sleeveless like a rugged gilet, paired with a short loincloth of fur bound at his waist. Every line of his body was masculine, built for strength, yet his face carried a beauty so striking it seemed almost fragile against the savage forest.

Their eyes met for the briefest instant.

Mordeus felt a strange jolt at the sight—the man was handsome, breathtakingly so, yet there was something different about him. Unlike the towering dominance he instinctively expected, this one’s aura was gentler, his steps quick and agile rather than crushing.

Behind him, the monstrous boar lowered its tusks, preparing to skewer him.

Mordeus clenched his fist. Purple fire blazed to life, answering his will.

The monstrous boar charged, tusks glinting as it tore through the undergrowth. The brown-haired man stumbled, too exhausted to dodge.

“Damn it.”

Mordeus didn’t think. He ran. His body moved with a speed and force that surprised even him, muscles coiled like springs. He hurled himself between the beast and the fleeing man just as the tusks swung low.

The impact rattled his bones—he caught the beast’s head with both hands, shoving back against its impossible strength. Its rancid breath blasted his face, hot and foul. The ground tore beneath his heels as he slid backward, barely holding the creature at bay.

Instinct screamed at him. Fire.

He clenched his teeth, his vision flaring with violet light. His palm burned—not with pain, but with energy waiting to be unleashed. Without knowing how, he thrust his hand forward.

A burst of purple flame erupted.

The boar squealed, rearing back as the fire scorched across its snout, the heat unnatural, searing yet leaving no ash. It staggered, rage boiling in its eyes, then lunged again.

Mordeus twisted aside, muscles straining. His movements weren’t graceful, but raw and desperate. He struck with his fists, each blow carrying more weight than he’d ever known. The beast slammed into him, throwing him hard against a tree. Bark split, his ribs rattled, but he rose at once.

The brown-haired man was watching, wide-eyed, torn between awe and terror.

“Run!” Mordeus barked, his voice guttural, edged with power.

The man hesitated—but the beast gave him no choice. It charged again.

Mordeus raised his arms. This time, the fire surged without his command, flowing down both arms, wrapping his fists in violet flame. He met the beast head-on, striking its tusk with a flaming punch. The air exploded with heat and sound.

The creature bellowed, its tusk shattered, body thrown sideways into a tree with a thunderous crash. The trunk snapped under the impact, leaves scattering.

The beast staggered, bleeding and burned, then collapsed with a final squeal. Smoke curled from its hide.

Silence fell.

Mordeus stood in the clearing, his chest heaving, his fists still burning with violet fire. Slowly, the flames dimmed, leaving only scorched earth and the sharp scent of charred fur.

He glanced back.

The man with long brown hair stared at him, lips parted, his chest rising and falling. Up close, his beauty was almost unreal—eyes shining like amber, framed by strands of hair clinging to his sweat-damp face. His animal-hide vest clung to his muscular torso, his form lean but powerful, yet there was a softness in his gaze that set him apart.

Mordeus’s pulse quickened, not from the battle, but from that look.

The man took a step toward him.

“You…” His voice trembled, half wonder, half disbelief. “What… are you?”

Before Mordeus could answer, the man’s body wavered. His knees buckled, his strength drained from the chase and the terror.

“Hey—”

Mordeus lunged forward, catching him before he hit the ground. The man’s body was warm, firm with muscle yet unexpectedly light in his arms. His long hair slipped over Mordeus’s arm like silk. His breaths were shallow, his chest rising and falling against Mordeus’s own.

“Shit…” Mordeus muttered, glancing around the forest. Leaving him here was suicide; other beasts could come at any moment. He tightened his grip and hoisted him easily onto his back, surprised at how natural the strength felt.

He moved quickly through the trees until he found shelter: a shallow cave hidden behind hanging vines, dry and quiet. He laid the man gently on a flat patch of stone, brushing away stray leaves.

The stranger didn’t stir.

Mordeus sat back on his heels, studying him in the dim light. Even unconscious, the man was striking—long lashes resting against his cheeks, his lips parted slightly as he breathed. His hair spilled across the stone in tangled waves of chestnut, catching the faint glow of firelight when Mordeus summoned a small flame to warm the cave.

He wore only rough hide clothes: a fur vest cut short and sleeveless, and a simple loincloth bound at the hips. Primitive, yet revealing the sculpted lines of his body. Mordeus frowned. Everyone here… dressed like this? Was this world truly some kind of ancient, primal society?

“Who the hell are you?” Mordeus murmured.

The only answer was the steady rhythm of the man’s breathing.

Mordeus leaned back against the cave wall, purple fire flickering faintly in his hand. His mind spun with questions: where he was, why he had been brought here, and who this beautiful, unconscious stranger might be.

One thing was certain.

This world was alive. And he was no longer just a player in a game.

He was the Dragon Overlord.

Mordeus leaned against the cave wall, exhaustion finally pressing down on him. His body—stronger than ever before—still carried the ache of the fight. The steady flicker of violet fire warmed the stone chamber, and the stranger’s quiet breathing filled the silence.

He told himself he would only rest his eyes for a moment. Just until dawn.

But at some point, sleep claimed him.

A strange weight pulled him from his dreams. Something warm pressed against his hip. Mordeus stirred, brow furrowing, and opened his eyes.

The sight that greeted him sent a jolt straight through his chest.

The brown-haired stranger was no longer lying quietly beside him. He was straddling Mordeus’s lap, his thighs braced against him, hands trembling as they clutched at Mordeus’s shoulders. His long hair fell in disheveled strands around his flushed face, amber eyes hazy with something primal.

His breath came fast, shallow, as though his body burned from within.

“You…” His voice was hoarse, broken with need. “…please… help me…”

Mordeus froze. Heat coiled low in his stomach at the sight, unfamiliar and dangerous. The man’s scent was different now—sharp, intoxicating, something that seemed to tug directly at his instincts.

“What the hell are you doing?” Mordeus rasped, gripping his wrists to steady him.

“I… I can’t…” Lukas’s words stumbled between gasps. He pressed his forehead against Mordeus’s chest, trembling. “It hurts… my body… it’s burning… please…”

Mordeus swallowed hard. He had fought a monster with his bare fists, but this—this was something else entirely. His pulse pounded, his mind a storm of confusion.

He had never seen another man look like this. Never felt like this.

His hands hovered at Lukas’s waist, unsure whether to push him away or hold him closer.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you want from me,” Mordeus muttered, his voice rough.

But Lukas only clung tighter, his body quivering. “Help me…” he begged again, eyes glistening, desperation breaking through his beauty.

Mordeus’s chest tightened. The cave was suddenly too small, too warm. His own instincts clawed at him, whispering things he didn’t understand.

For the first time since arriving in this world, he was truly shaken.

And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to push Lukas away.

Mordeus’s hands tightened on Lukas’s waist, trying to steady him. The man trembled violently in his lap, amber eyes hazy, body pressing close like he was desperate for something he didn’t understand.

“Please…” Lukas’s voice broke, soft but urgent. “It hurts… my body feels so strange—I can’t stand it.”

Mordeus drew a slow breath, his pulse pounding. He had seen arousal before, had taken lovers before. But this… this was different. The scent filling the cave was thick, primal, triggering instincts that made his chest tighten.

“Easy,” he muttered, brushing back strands of Lukas’s sweat-damp hair. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“I don’t,” Lukas admitted, his voice trembling. He clung harder to Mordeus’s shoulders, his whole body quivering. “I just… I need you. I feel like I’ll break if you don’t help me.”

Mordeus cursed under his breath. He was strong, disciplined, but the raw plea in Lukas’s voice broke through every barrier. His hands slid lower, exploring, and then—

He froze.

Between Lukas’s thighs, beneath the crude loincloth of fur, was not what he expected. He had assumed all beastmen were like him—male, only male. But what he felt, what his fingers brushed against, was soft, slick, sensitive. His eyes widened.

This man has a female genital.

“…You…” His voice dropped into something rougher, darker. “You’re not built like me.”

Lukas shuddered at his touch, face flushing a deep red. “I—I don’t understand,” he whispered, innocence and confusion mingling in his gaze.

Mordeus swallowed hard. His instincts screamed at him to take, to claim, but he forced himself to breathe slowly, steady. This man didn’t even know what was happening to him. He was in heat, his body begging for relief, but his mind was untouched by experience.

“You really don’t know, do you?” Mordeus said quietly.

Lukas shook his head, pressing his face into Mordeus’s chest. “Only that it hurts… and that when I’m near you, it eases. Please… don’t leave me like this.”

Mordeus closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. He was a grown man. He knew what it meant to touch someone, to bring them release. And yet the innocence in Lukas’s trembling body, the way he begged without knowing—there was something dangerously pure about it.

He tilted Lukas’s face up, kissing him slowly this time, less hunger, more coaxing. Lukas gasped into the kiss, stiff at first, then melting with a soft sound that made Mordeus’s blood ignite.

“Let me help you,” Mordeus whispered against his lips.

Lukas nodded, shy and desperate, eyes glistening. “Please…”

Mordeus guided him gently, stripping away the primitive clothes until Lukas’s body was bare before him—muscular and strong like all beastmen, yet marked by the softness hidden between his thighs. Mordeus’s breath caught at the sight.

“Beautiful,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Lukas flushed, squirming under his gaze. “Don’t… stare…”

But Mordeus only smirked, lowering his hand again, fingers brushing carefully against that secret place. Lukas cried out softly, his body arching, eyes wide with shock at the sensation.

“You’ve never been touched here, have you?” Mordeus murmured.

“N-no…” Lukas admitted, voice trembling. “What is… happening to me?”

Mordeus kissed the corner of his mouth, his voice low and steady. “Nothing bad. I’ll show you.”

The cave filled with Lukas’s gasps and Mordeus’s deep, soothing whispers as instinct and tenderness mingled, guiding the innocent sub through sensations he had never known—while Mordeus, though surprised at first, found himself drawn deeper, his desire entwined with something else: the need to claim and protect.

The taller man kissed him hard, crushing his trembling lips, swallowing every broken sound. “Careful,” he muttered against his mouth, voice husky. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

But Lukas arched up, clinging to him with shaking arms. His body burned, demanding something he didn’t understand.

Mordeus pushed forward slowly, his thick cock parting that hidden entrance. Lukas cried out instantly, back bowing off the furs, nails digging into Mordeus’s shoulders.

“Ah—! N-no! It’s too much!” Tears streamed down his face, his voice cracking with pain.

Mordeus’s jaw clenched. He pressed his forehead to Lukas’s, forcing himself to move carefully, though his instincts screamed for more. “Endure,” he rasped, his breath hot against the man’s ear. “It won’t always hurt.”

The passage was unbearably tight, pulling him in inch by inch. Lukas writhed beneath him, sobbing, shaking his head, yet his body betrayed him—clutching desperately, refusing to let Mordeus go.

“Please—stop, it’s—ahh—it’s too much!”

“You can take it,” Mordeus growled, his large hands locking Lukas’s hips in place. His thrusts grew deeper, harder, each one wringing a fresh cry from the man. “You were born for this… just let me.”

The cave filled with the sound of their bodies colliding, Lukas’s sobs echoing against the stone walls. His legs trembled, spread helplessly wide, his innocence torn apart under the relentless rhythm. He begged, he cried, but slowly—shamefully—his voice shifted, pain laced with something sweeter, something he didn’t understand.

Mordeus bent down, biting the man’s lip until it bled, claiming him completely. His voice was a low growl against Lukas’s mouth, possessive and rough.

“Mine.”

Mordeus’s control shattered. His thrusts grew brutal, each one slamming Lukas’s body into the furs beneath him. The man’s cries turned ragged, high and broken, echoing against the cave walls.

“Ahh—! Stop, I can’t—!” Lukas sobbed, clutching at Mordeus’s arms, his nails dragging down hard muscle. His tears streaked his flushed cheeks, his lips swollen from kisses that had stolen his breath.

But his body betrayed him again and again, clenching desperately around the thick intrusion, refusing to release him.

“You say stop,” Mordeus growled, voice deep, almost feral, “but here—” He slammed in to the hilt, grinding against the tender walls. Lukas screamed, trembling violently. “—your body is begging for me.”

“No! N-no it’s—ahhh!” Lukas’s head fell back, hair spilling wildly across the furs, his throat bared in helpless surrender.

Mordeus pinned him down, one large hand locking both slim wrists above his head. His other hand grabbed Lukas’s thigh, forcing his legs wider, spreading him obscenely. With a savage thrust, he buried himself to the core. The tip touche the gate of his uterus, violently breaking in.

Lukas wailed, the sound cracking into sobs, yet every movement made his body shudder, tighter, wetter, hotter.

“You’re mine,” Mordeus snarled, pounding mercilessly into him. “This body—” another deep thrust that made Lukas cry out, “—was made for me to break.”

Tears streamed down Lukas’s face, but his lips parted in desperate gasps, his innocence shattering with each punishing rhythm. He could no longer tell where the pain ended and the strange, burning pleasure began.

Mordeus bit down on his neck, hard enough to leave a mark, groaning against his skin. His pace quickened, hips slamming relentlessly, the sound of wet, violent friction filling the cave.

“Please—I can’t… I can’t—” Lukas whimpered, his voice faint, yet his body still rose to meet each thrust, trembling uncontrollably.

“You’ll take it,” Mordeus hissed against his ear. “Until I’ve filled you.”

The pressure built until it was unbearable. With one last brutal thrust, Mordeus buried himself deep, groaning gutturally as he spilled hot inside Lukas, holding him down so he couldn’t escape.

Lukas let out a broken scream, his body arching, convulsing under the force, tears and sweat soaking his flushed face.

Mordeus finally collapsed against him, breath ragged, chest heaving. His seed leaked slowly from where they were joined, marking the man thoroughly.

Pinned beneath him, Lukas trembled, eyes glassy, lips quivering. He had never felt so shattered, so full, so claimed.

Mordeus stroked his damp hair roughly, forcing him to look up. His golden eyes glowed with a dangerous, possessive fire.

“You belong to me now,” he said, voice low, final.

The fire crackled low, shadows flickering over the walls as Mordeus drove Lukas mercilessly beneath him. The younger man’s body was already slick with sweat, trembling and raw, his voice hoarse from crying out.

But Mordeus wasn’t satisfied, his monstrous cock hardened again.

His grip shifted, strong hands seizing Lukas’s narrow hips and dragging him closer, forcing his body to arch unnaturally. Lukas gasped, wide-eyed, sensing a new, sharper threat as the Overlord pressed lower.

“N–No… not there,” Lukas stammered, voice breaking in panic. His nails clawed at the furs beneath them, desperate for escape. “It—it won’t fit—please, don’t—”

Mordeus only snarled, the cruel edge of hunger gleaming in his eyes. “You’re mine,” he growled, voice guttural, primal. “Every part of you. I’ll claim it all.”

He thrust forward, merciless, tearing a strangled scream from Lukas’s throat. The man’s body arched violently, tears streaming unchecked down his flushed face. Pain flooded his expression, his lips trembling as broken sobs spilled out. Below, his anus tremblingly embraces the unbelievably large thing buried deep inside him. Blood’s dripping out from every thrust, making him cry miserably.

“It hurts—it hurts—please, stop—” Lukas begged, his voice dissolving into choked cries. But Mordeus’s strength was unyielding, pressing past resistance, forcing the untouched place open with brutal determination.

The sounds that followed were raw, unrelenting—Lukas’s gasps, his sobs, the heavy rhythm of Mordeus’s body driving deeper into him, consuming both of his last shreds of innocence.

“Remember this,” Mordeus hissed against his ear, his hot breath sending shivers down Lukas’s spine. “Remember who took you—front and back. You’ll never forget me.”

Lukas’s legs gave out, his body shaking uncontrollably as he collapsed beneath the overwhelming force. He clung blindly to Mordeus’s shoulders, not out of desire, but because his body could no longer hold itself upright. His voice was weak, trembling, broken:

“Please… I can’t… I can’t anymore…”

But Mordeus didn’t stop. The cave was filled with the sound of dominance, of Lukas’s innocence being shattered completely, claimed utterly by the man who had fallen from another world.