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Pavel leans against a tree, panting heavily. The bark underneath his hands is rough, scratchy, but Pavel doesn’t have the energy to care. He’s not quite sure how far he’s gotten, the markings of the woods and the underbrush a continuous, unchanging surrounding as he runs.His hole is still loose from the perfunctory fingering the trainers gave him prefacing release, and he can feel his slick: heavy and full of scent, running down the backs of his thighs. He stretches, feeling the soreness in his calves, the ache of his belly.It’s mating season.Pavel’s been lucky to not have been caught by a stud yet. Well, lucky isn’t really the word, when everything in his blood is thrumming with the need to be chased and the ache in his stomach is crowing with the need to be bred. But it’s a statistical improbability, how far he’s been able to make it without stumbling upon another goaltender. It’s a little impressive, even, when most breeders get caught by a stud the first few minutes. Pavel’s been out for possibly hours.It won’t last. The trainers would make sure of that, to get the most out of the stock this season. And Pavel himself isn’t subtle, his scent and location broadcasted in every nook and cranny he rubs against as he crashes through the undergrowth, his movements already slow and getting slower as heat progresses. And, well.Pavel knows he’s not exactly the youngest breeder in season. But a Stanley Cup winning goaltender is still a hot commodity for more than most.The scent of hunting goalies and frantic couplings are permeating the air. Pavel grits his teeth as heat licks at his insides, reminding him of what he desperately needs.He turns to straighten, hand heavy over his aching belly, when movement to the left of his peripheral makes him startle.Pavel turns, frantically trying to get a visual, but the opposing stud is already charging him. The unknown figure knocks him down, startling a groan of pain from Pavel as his back collides heavily with the forest floor, and while the stud effectively pins him down with their weight. As Pavel tries to catch his breath, getting his vision to focus, the goaltender on top of him leans in close and inhales in the crease of Pavel’s neck. Pavel can smell his interest now, heady and so close in the confines of the clearing.When the stud leans back, looking satisfied, Pavel identifies the goaltender as Connor Hellebuyck. His eyes are wild, and his scent is sharp.The heat between Pavel’s legs kicks.Pavel immediately goes limp beneath Hellebuyck, baring his neck as pure energy thrums beneath his skin. His last mating season, lacking the starter role and the Stanley cup, had been abysmal and a little desperate, with only one coupling managing to catch from some third -string father.Now, as the Jets’ starting goaltender presses a thick cock against the crease of Pavel’s thigh, he knows it’ll be a little different this year.Hellebuyck has no qualms about moving him around, large, calloused palms pushing against Pavel with the ease of practiced familiarity — dozens of mating seasons under his belt a fantastic teacher. Pavel goes willingly, letting Hellebuyck manhandle him onto the forest floor, and tries not to get hard about it.Rough, sloppy fingers thrust into Pavel’s hole, already moving and scissoring inside. Pavel muffles a whine at the feeling, just trying to hang on to the ride. He lets out a real one when Hellebuyck suddenly bites his shoulder hard, the electric pain warring with the pleasurable stretch in his ass from a rutting stud hastily fingering him.“Hear you,” Hellebuyck grunts out on top of him, warm breath ghosting behind Pavel’s right ear. It’s all the instruction and all the warning Pavel gets before a thick cock positions itself against his entrance and shoves in.“Oh,” Pavel says, the sound punched out of him as his hole stretches obscenely to accommodate the girth. Hellebuyck bottoms out immediately and just starts moving, hips pistoning in deep, rapid fucks into Pavel’s warm heat.Hellebuyck is big — nice, thick cock hitting Pavel’s prostate each time and causing waves of pleasure to ricochet through him. Their coupling is guttural, all instinct as they fall into their mating patterns and animalistic grunts and groans. A particularly deep thrust causes Pavel to cry out, lit up in pure bliss.The stud seems to catch onto the way it makes Pavel’s hole clench sweetly, and shoves Pavel’s leg to the side in order to continue fucking into that spot that makes Pavel cry so nicely. It’s only Hellebuyck’s hand that keeps Pavel from collapsing onto the forest floor as Pavel trembles and shudders through Hellebuyck’s forceful mating.Pavel can feel the way that Hellebuyck’s thrusts get more frantic, the way that his knot is expanding fast as he fucks in and out of Pavel’s sloppy hole.When it catches, jerking at Pavel’s rim harshly as it fills his whole being up, Pavel comes on the spot, hole clenching up as he squeals with his orgasm and cock spurting weakly against the ground.Pavel goes limp, letting out only soft moans and shudders as he feels his inner muscles eagerly milk the stud for all he can give. And give he can — Hellebuyck has been one of the league’s oldest and more successful studs for a reason, fathering more than his fair share of goaltenders in the league today. He can feel the stud’s knot filling him with thick come, filling him up the only way that a rutting goaltender can during mating season.Pavel wouldn’t mind if it catches.Hellebuyck keeps his hands pinned as he leisurely grinds himself against Pavel’s ass, enjoying the breathless flutter of Pavel’s hole while his cock continues to pump come into the breeder. Lazy thrusts cause sparks of dual pleasure and overstimulation run up against Pavel’s spine as his prostate was brushed again and again and Hellebuyck fucked in another load. Under Hellebuyck’s large knot, stretching his ass obscenely, Pavel can only lay there and take it, bred like a good little goaltender.When Pavel looks up, he’s startled to find a crowd of studs starting to form around his little clearing.It makes sense a little — a breeding attracts noises and scents and studs, those eager to get a fuck and a pup out of a breeder already submitting. And breeder numbers are of course not the highest they could be, with so many goaltender retirements from the league this year. So it’s, not like, surprising.Still, when Pavel catches sight of some names like Quick and Fleury in the crowd, he can still admit that it is a bit surreal.Hellebuyck’s knot goes down enough a few moments later for his cock slips from Pavel’s hole. His spend is obscene, and Pavel can still feel a bit of his come trickle out between his legs as Hellebuyck pulls out. The feeling makes Pavel groan, but the ache barely has time to resettle before another stud is moving forward, deft hands already spreading him open where he is wet and ready.“So wet,” the familiar voice of Andrei Vasilevskiy murmurs from behind him. Pavel lets out a gasp that’s buried with a shout as Vasilevskiy takes the chance to bury his cock into the wet, willing breeder at the hilt.He’s never been bred by Vasilevskiy before, and he knows few who have. Where Hellebuyck was instinct and stone, Vasilevskiy is vocal — possessive hands digging into Pavel’s hips as he growls dirty promises into the breeder’s ears. Combined with the sound of skin slapping on skin, the “ah”s punched from Pavel’s mouth on each thrust, Pavel is bright flustered red as he’s drilled into the dirt.“Gonna fuck you full,” Vasilevskiy snarls in his ear, the sound twisted and rough. The stud tangles a hand in Pavel’s hair and pulls, drawing out a sob from beneath. Vasilevskiy’s hips just keep moving. “Gonna keep you on my knot til you burst with my pups. Fill you with so much come, you’ll keep having them way past heat-season.”Pavel’s eyes roll back as Vasilevskiy rubs his growing knot right across his prostate, the ridge of it staying there and massaging him hard. His legs are trembling, both futilely attempting to butterfly to keep more of Vasilevskiy inside, and futilely trying to shift away as the goaltender pounds in and out.Vasilevskiy only leans in, bending Pavel almost in half as the rim of Pavel’s hole keeps catching at the stud’s knot.“Keep you out of commission the next time we face each other in the finals, huh?” Pavel moans brokenly, hands scrabbling against the dirt as Vasilevskiy finally shoves his whole knot in, bullying his way past the resistance and making Pavel come and come and come.“Oh, you liked that.” Vasilevskiy’s voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere far far away.Pavel can only sob, feeling the pleasure swirling in his gut and the stretch as his hole clenches to accommodate the massive knot inside him.He wouldn’t like that, he knows it — the cup has been his dream, and he wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize that.Yet, as Martin Jones taps in to take Vasilevskiy’s place, pinning him down and fucking in, Pavel knows that he could easily get addicted to this.Jones and several other starters fuck and breed him. Pavel floats, lost in the sensation and slick. The sound of skin on skin echoes throughout the clearing, thick cocks driving in again and again through the open mess of Pavel’s fertile hole and stretching him to the limit, relentless and unforgivingAndersen rolls him onto his back when he catches him, the stud pinning him down and bullying his knees apart before forcing his way in with a satisfied grunt. He fucks him greedily, chasing his own pleasure as the stud breeds him.A stud who Pavel is pretty sure is Markstrom takes his turn after that, massive knot splitting him open as it paints his inner walls well with seed. Pavel drifts in and out between matings to find Vasilevskiy and more than a few past studs taking another go at his hole, fucking into the sloppy mess of slick and come.Pavel moans and cries and comes all throughout it, pleasure lighting up his insides and the scent of so many studs mussing up his head.By the time the heat-scent fades, Pavel aches all over. The studs have cleared out, searching fast to cover the rest of the in-season goalies. His last knot, belonging to some third-stringer he wouldn’t remember, tugs itself free reluctantly as its stud fumbles to keep up with the rest of the hunt, leaving Pavel gasping, panting heavily on the ground where he was discarded.He’s been stuffed full, the rounded edge in his gut a proof of all of the fucking and knotting and come that he’s been taking. When Pavel stands, he stumbles, the wetness in his ass a steady stream down his thighs and calves, and he sticks his fingers into himself tentatively just to feel the way stud come catches in his palms.He’s definitely caught. He can feel it, in the slight subtle change in his scent to give away bred-up goaltender to some of the lucky few.And yet, as Pavel grits his teeth, steadying himself against a tree, he knows he’s not done yet. Mating season goes for days. Any moment now, the next heat wave will come crashing back, and Pavel will see himself bred up in a clearing again, another two or three pups in his womb.Pavel runs an idle hand through the hair on his belly. Stands, and begins again to move.