Transmogrification at the Winterhold College 2
New desires and new needs arise between an Orc and a Student
Transmogrification at the Winterhold College 2
New desires and new needs arise between an Orc and a Student
Urag reached for another book, cleaning up after the mages that had gone through the library like a bunch of cockroaches. Even if he did his best to tidy the place or to enforce the rules, almost no one followed them.
Most of the time, it was a wonder the tables were not covered with breadcrumbs. And it was a regular task to check with the cleaning enchantments on the most sought-after books, in case someone thought drinking wine and reading altogether was a good plan.
Still, it was easier as he looked over his shoulder, watching the same familiar face…
“Ah! Urag! My favorite! I need your help!”
Closing his eyes for a second, the old Orc tried his best to put a tusked smile on his face. It was the best he could do, locking his cheeks and eyes while he turned to Colette. Lately, she’d been on his ass for her new set of research.
“Yes… Colette?” he answered, looking at the petite brunette whose expression was as rigid as stone.
“I need your help. I need a treaty on Transmogrification, but I can’t find it in the collection. You did not lose it? Or… hmm. I’ll try to do without.”
Well, for once, Colette was able to read the room as Urag’s expression turned from joy to frustration. His eyebrows dropped, his smile vanished, even his shoulders dropped. And behind, he could hear hastened steps.
“I’ll see if I haven’t misplaced it. If I find it, I’ll give it to one of your students.”
“Splendid. Finally, I will progress on my projects!”
She turned, raising her hands close to her face as if it could express the joy her soul lacked. And Urag’s shoulders finally got a rest as he looked around. Well, the tables on the east side were cleaned, and so… He could continue on the west side, slowly taking a turn to pile up the books in his arms. Until… Well, there was his favorite and most frustrating Student who helped him put the tomes back on the shelves.
He swiftly looked over his shoulder. It was midday, so almost everyone had gone to grab a bite. And Urag… He was certain nobody was looking as he approached the small Argonian from behind. He reached for one book, and went for one shelf by the Student while he pressed his belly and body against him, squeezing him against the bookshelf.
“Colette is looking for one of her books. Would you happen to know where it is, this time?” he asked, growling. He was still the librarian, and though he could grant some permissions, he had to be warned when a book was taken from the Arcanaeum… And preferred it so.
“I… I left it in the back office last night,” mumbled the Student, his arms no longer moving. But his posterior, it started to press against the Orc’s belly and-
“Orc.”
A cold shiver shook Urag’s spine. A long, thorough shiver that nearly made him sweat. That voice was suppurating with disdain, with… contempt. However, he did his best not to appear surprised and caught as he had his body pressed against the Argonian.
“Fetch the book and get it to Colette before she bothers me,” he said, trying to keep his countenance as he looked over his shoulder. Ancano.
The Altmer still wore his Thalmor robes after all those months operating in the College. And even then, there was no way anyone could put up with him. Except maybe Nirya, who always tottered between insane paranoia and physical appreciation.
Still, as he looked at the prim Thalmor, with his pampered face, powdered gaunt cheeks, those sleek blonde hair, the Orc took a deep breath, bracing.
“He is a student, right?” asked Ancano, watching over Urag’s shoulders. But the Orc did not look.
“Yes. I asked Savos if he could help me in the Arcanaeum. I might be looking for a replacement, soon.”
“That so. I do not care particularly for him, but I might be curious about his specialty. One member of the Thalmor might be better suited for-”
“Stop right here with your fleecing,” growled Urag, taping the books he had in his arms. “Get on with it. What do you want?”
“I still need the maps of the Abecean sea, as well as anything you have on the Psijic order.”
Again. Urag scoffed, rolled his eyes, and started to move to another set of shelves. “Alchemical reactions and gold”, something right from the Alteration shelves.
He started to order the books quickly, remembering where he put them, while Ancano hounded him.
“Orc?”
“I have a name, Ancano. You already have access to our books on the Psijic order, everything, even the notes from my predecessor,” explained Urag, outstretching an arm. “As for the map, I told you someone else borrowed it.”
“And can’t they return it?”
“Not as long as they’re outside.”
“Can’t you summon them back?”
“You should ask Savos.”
“Tsk! Can’t you be useful?” said Ancano, clicking his tongue and tapping his foot like a petulant child.
“No can do. Unless you need something else? Maybe a guide on how to interact with fellow mages?”
“MPHR!”
The nose up, Ancano stepped away. But the slight redness on his face and the ensuing stomping were enough to improve Urag’s mood as he passed his hands on his hips. It was to be a great day… And boring one as he looked over his shoulder to the backroom door. It opened with the Student waving at him and leaving the place with his head low.
Well, it would be impossible to do anything, even with an invisibility spell. Rather, it would be opportune to sit down and do some translations… Yet, as he was about to sit, he saw a little paper on the chair. A small note the Orc fetched, glancing at the empty Arcaneum, and discreetly opened:
“I can’t wait to be with you.”
It was innocent… But the Old Orc’s heart fluttered a bit as he chuckled, crumbled the paper, and slipped it into his pockets. It had only been a few weeks, but the Student was eager, tempting. It was refreshing to have an experience with the young Lad. Even if he was… Well, not what the Orc expected, it was something else. And his submission made it easier for the Orc to change his view on the situation.
Enough even for him to partially daydream as he continued working. It was challenging to think about tenses and proper vocabulary when he had a few ideas running through his mind and loins… When he was eager to return to the comfort they shared.
And he shook his head, trying to endure.
“Difficult day, friend?”
His eyes left the almost empty paper. Urag looked up to Enthir. The Bosmer had that thin smile, rogue and dastardly. His red eyes were on the paper, then on the Orc, trying to feign innocence before Urag slipped the paper and ink away, joining hands. Behind Enthir and his short mohawk? A slew of students and teachers. There was a lecture… Something he tried to ignore as he took a deep breath.
“A bit. Ancano is still looking for his maps. Would you know about it?”
“Maybe. Does he know I borrowed them?”
“No,” said the Orc, tapping his desk.
“Shame. I guess we’ll have to search longer,” continued Enthir, turning and pressing his posterior on the desk, even when Urag had to pull the books away. “So… You need one of my favors?”
The question was abrupt, surprising. For a moment, Urag’s jaw nearly dropped. But then…
He had told the Student he could ask Enthir in his name for rare supplies. Not for the usual research, but for what they had. He needed to make it a list… But to send Enthir his way.
“Hrph… You have a list?” asked Urag, unsure how to handle the situation.
“I received it. More ink, toys, clothes… My, my. Urag. Are you planning to leave the celibate club?”
“Is this feasible?”
“Hmmm… Well. I owe you for Ancano. As for the rest,” chuckled the Bosmer, his hand appearing on the table, waving as if to expect an offering.
Septims. With a growl, Urag reached for his purses. He had a few funds, some of which were from the College and wouldn’t touch. But some were from his salary, and he dug in them, extracting sixty septims, ten by ten, before Enthir seemed satisfied and stood up.
“I’ll see you at the Inn.”
The Inn… Urag frowned. Rarely did he leave the College, but there seemed to be a surprise, enough for him to wonder and no longer be able to focus at all.
His right foot bounced as he tried to return to his work. Outside, the faces were coming and going. Even the Archmage had a pass, asking him if he had insulted Ancano, which led to Urag explaining the situation. A gentle tap on the hand, a faked admonition, and Urag was back to his questioning and worries. Where would he go outside the College? Was he supposed to go somewhere? He hadn’t been warned.
Such thoughts continued as he left his seat and closed the Arcanaeum. They never left him as he descended the stairs, passed by the courtyard, saluted the many mages, wondering where he went… And he continued toward Winterhold.
Though the city still bore the traces of the great cataclysm that hit it decades ago, it had become more livable. Numerous were the tales of the Dovakhiin and the positive influence on the hold. It led to more work for the enchanters, but also more houses to be built. And overall, a better outlook, even though Urag hated people.
He hated being surrounded by people, or the gazes the Nords had for an Orc like him in a mage robe. Still, he walked through and approached the frozen hearth, rubbing his hands to keep them warm.
The inside was the same, albeit a bit rowdy. And as soon as he entered, Enthir was there to beckon Urag to a table in a corner. With a package.
“Here. Your prize.”
“My… Sure,” said the Orc, taking in the package without sitting down. He looked around for a moment, feeling the weight of the linen wrapping.
“Don’t you want to sit down and take a drink?”
“No. I… No,” he grumbled. Maybe it was expected of him to sit down, but he did not want to… Especially when there was a bard already strumming.
He entered as he left… But as soon as he left, there was… A presence at his side. Someone giving him the elbow.
“I couldn’t warn you for Enthir,” mumbled the Student, his robe the same.
For a moment, the Orc did not say a thing, but as Urag was about to return to the College, he noted the Student took a different path, and hastily joined him… Then fixed his steps and pace on the Argonian’s.
“You could not leave me a note?”
“No. After I gave Enthir the list and saw Colette, she… Dragged me away. She didn’t care for the book. And she wanted me to be a part of her next class, she said her top student shouldn’t shirk on his duties.”
The Orc growled, but it was expected.
“And now? Where are we?”
“My little cottage.”
“Your cottage?” asked Urag, surprised.
The city was growing, more alive than before. Guards were coming and going. You could hear people hammering or cutting stone in the distance. Quickly, though, the Argonian walked through the alleys, closer to the cliffs.
“I bought it recently. Or my family brought it for me, after I told them I found a mate.”
Well, that was awkward for the Orc. And so for the Argonian, who scratched his neck.
“And… hmm… The package?”
“For tonight,” said the Argonian, offering a smile as the duo approached one tiny house. Smoke was coming from the chimney, and wood was stacked near the entrance. But once inside, Urag felt better. Maybe it was the habits, but he was unaccustomed to a place that was truly… Warm.
The college was cold, the stone was cold, the empty corridors were cold. And the robes could do so much.
But the tiny home was not only cozy, it was warm. And comfortable. The ground was covered with wood planks, a part of the house was dedicated to the bed inside an elevated alcove with a tiny storage room underneath. The hearth was lit, with plenty of space to cook and prepare meals. On the side, Urag saw a replete pantry with Frost Mirriam dangling atop the storage, with sausages and other salty food. More than that, there was even a corner dedicated to studies, a desk crumbling under the weight of stacked books. And it was clear, this was the best place they could be.
That, Urag was not even opposing the idea as he experienced the Argonian’s hands wrapping over his belly and a huff against his neck. He turned and kissed that muzzle before he was let go and could finally hold out the package.
“Where should I-”
“Let me handle this.”
With a soft order, the package was taken away and slipped into the closet underneath the bed before the Argonian turned and smiled fondly.
“I cooked a meal for us.”
“I am not… So hungry for that,” said Urag, feeling the lust overtaking him. He only needed to look at that Argonian, at those hands about to scratch that neck. And he stopped them, stopped his Lover from doing that before he kissed him, forced his wide tongue into that wider mouth and sampled the small tinge of wine. “I am hungry for you.”
“As you want, Golzarga Ornim.”
Two words, but the old Orc’s groin flared with desire, and so did his mind as he reached again for those cheeks, cupping the jaw while he forced his Lover into a kiss. Then another. And another. Each time they kissed and took a breath, Urag felt restless in sampling his Lover’s presence, feeling his envy, feeling his desire against him.
It was strange. It was not what he expected. But he loved that young Student more than most partners he had. Most females.
He sighed finally, out of breath. And so was the Argonian as he reached for the Orc’s bearded cheeks, brushing them with his thumb.
“It’s… You’re in a mood.”
“I am. Strip.”
“Wait!”
Pulling away from the embrace, the Argonian turned to the hearth and the pot that was by the fire, pulling it away carefully, much to Urag’s surprise.
“I don’t want it to burn,” explained the Argonian. “And now… Please. Turn away. So you don’t see what happens.”
“I… As you wish,” said the old Orc. But rather than merely turning away, he went on the books and studies.
On the table, there were a slew of papers and copies, in large amounts. And even more designs for the transmutation markings. In fact, Urag had guessed before those would no longer be necessary.
But no, the Argonian had been planning for more. Or trying, searching…
Behind, there was the sound of clothes dropping and some fabric being set aside. His eyes wanted to wander, but he knew to wait. And so, he returned to the formulas.
He had started to pick up on them. Shrinking, conversion, modification, fertility. A whole slew of daedric that was to partake in another type of modification he hadn’t seen. And then… After he sat down and started to skim through, scalies hands reached for his neck.
“You can leave that here.”
The scalie right hand descended along Urag’s shoulders, arm, taking it away from the note while the Orc had to turn… And well, it seemed his Lover was on his toes because he faced that gray-scaled belly. And below, a formula. Maybe a copy of one of those, inked in purple.
Beyond that, the Argonian might have removed his robes, but he replaced them with soft fishnet leggings and arm sleeves. He looked… Softer with those, and enough for Urag to lean on and deposit a kiss on that belly.
“Another try? You don’t have much to lose.”
“I know.”
His mouth descended, but he spared the ink, unwilling to smear it as he approached the groin. And the slit.
It had taken shape. Properly so. The entrance was constantly wet and had a slight fishy smell, perfumes covered partially. However, the young Argonian maintained it clean… And Urag kissed the border, then pressed his tongue against it.
He licked the slit, pressed his tongue while he had two fingers pulling on the scales, spreading them until the soft pink flesh appeared, steamy and warm.
Above, the Argonian moaned and had his hand over his belly, trying to fight a hiccup. But the Orc did not stop for something so small. He continued, pressing his bearded face against the soft entrance and deposited one kiss. Then a second, feeling the throb inside.
He spread the slit further, forcing on the scales but not bruising them. He acted gentle and then… There was the tip. The bulbous tip. What remained.
It was barely peeking through, it was just… So small. And yet wide. It was closer to an orifice, at this point.
One the Orc did not hesitate to give it a lick, poking at the meatus.
“So small.”
“Y-Yes,” answered Urag’s Lover, the voice low but trembling from the excitement.
“It is so small. This is not a cock.”
“Mhrphh yes. You are… Right. Sir.”
“You cannot even use it anymore. It is only a shame for you to compare with me.”
The Argonian was warmer. Way warmer, and yet the Orc kept licking and nudging the cocktip, knowing how sensitive it had become and how his Lover fought against the sensation.
He did not have to look down to know that scrotum was clenching and lifting, the muscles pulling on it to milk the orbs. They were still there, big and heavy. But alas, there was no more cock. Urag appreciated the sight.
“That’s what you wanted. To be a tiny dicked failure of a male.”
Urag’s voice was rude, gruff, heavier than usual. But he knew when he took that tone, that attitude, his Lover was a trembling mess.
“N-Not yet. I’m… About to cum,” said the Argonian, swallowing his saliva.
“Hmm? You don’t want to lose the last few traces? There’s not much more,” scoffed Urag, blowing on the cocktip while he had two fingers hooking on the slit, forcing it open and scissoring against the tiny cock; it could barely slip out. That slit was like a cunt. And it worked for the aging Librarian.
“There’s… Something more,” said the Argonian, sighing when the pressure was left and his nub no longer quivered. “Can… I prepare you… First?”
Urag smiled, chuckled as he turned on the chair. His neck had been hurting a bit from the foreplay. But there was the pleasure of being worshiped that followed. And he spread his legs, again wearing nothing under the robes. And he knew for a fact the scent down there would be heavy, powerful.
“I didn’t clean for days. I’m sweaty and stinky there. You’ll have to clean everything yourself.”
A little lie; he still maintained a minimum of body hygiene. But he was definitely sweaty and smelling down there.
But as expected, the Argonian’s reaction was the opposite of disgust. The eyes lit up, the smile appeared. And he took another whiff.
“Yes, Sir.”
Even if he was in command, Urag was kind enough to lift his robes and spread his legs as his Lover knelt before him. The Orc lifted the fabric, letting it breathe, and so, the Argonian could take a whiff of the potent and pungent orcish musk that had been macerating inside the robe. Despite being a librarian, Urag often had to move and lift weights just to put the books on the right shelves. In return, all that sweat, all that aroma, he had been keeping it and only bothering with washing what was “necessary” to him. The minimum, but enough for the Argonian whose mouth and tongue went for: reaching for those hairy and luscious gonads. For those low-hanging fruits, slightly greasy, and yet whose perfume tantalized the submissive male.
His breath quickened. A kiss. A lick. A blow. A murmur. A whisper. A loving embrace as that tongue danced, coiled, wrapped, danced, stroked. It was a wondrous sensation the old Orc enjoyed as he reclined on the chair, letting the Argonian give the white hair a thorough clean-up. And the dark-green orbs the attention they deserved.
“Keep working… Girl. I want them polished and cleaned,” ordered the Orc, folding the robes on his lap so the Argonian could access his genitals without much effort and prodding.
That way, Urag could relax, close his eyes, and feel his heartbeat down his loins, along with the need. Oh. His cock was getting hard. Dark green, veiny, uncut. He was still a stallion, a stud. Not in his prime, in age. But endowment wasn’t limited by age. And through his blood pumping, his organ arose and pointed up. The foreskin slipped, revealing the precum he had been producing and projecting inside the folds. But it was rather clean, if a bit greasy from the oozing liquid and sweat. And as the glans released, the scent was the strongest, the most brutal, the most… Heady. A long whiff came from the Argonian as the aroma pervaded the entire room. It would be difficult to get it away, especially when cleaning their clothes. But it was fine for Urag. It was fine for his Lover who often spent hours hidden between his legs.
The nights spent fucking, the days with the Argonian hiding and sucking him off discretely, the moments during their researches with the Orc’s exploring the Argonian’s plump bottom. And so on.
There was solace in being with such a lusty Lover, in being there for them. And having one for him, even if it was not the kind of partner he had been looking for, at first. Still, he sometimes called him Girl. Or sometimes messed with him.
“Go on, you can leave them be for a moment,” ordered Urag. To be fair, his scrotum was still unclean and reeking of Orc musk. But he wanted more as he reached between his legs, ignoring his belly, and passed two fingers along the foreskin to peel it down further. To force on it until the glans was entirely uncovered, from the tip to the corona. And he approached it to the Argonian’s face, pressing the soft tip against those nostrils; he smeared them with fluids.
The result was instantaneous: the irises dilated for a moment, saliva dribbled from that mouth, and a long breath ensued droplets landing inside that sensitive nose, branding it.
The second after, the mouth opened wide and the tongue descended along the chin and lower. It dropped down, lolled, then pressed against the base, the throbbing mast, the foreskin, the tip. It formed a wall that rubbed against the flesh, collected the salty grease covering it before he opened that jaw wide and… yes. Slipped the length inside that throat.
Urag’s Lover was… Good. Argonians were different in anatomy, therefore allowing an easier “swallowing”. Other species would have gawked at the utter width and length. But the Student? No, he took it in until those scaly lips had closed on the base and he suckled thinly, careful with those teeth.
Such a loving vision as that mouth suckled, nursed on the cock… And Urag reached, stroking that familiar face.
“You are so good at this. You ought…”
To be a whore. Sometimes, he did this. He mocked the Argonian for his slutty behavior, knowing he enjoyed it.
Rather, this time… He did not.
He lifted his boots, pressed them on the Argonian’s genitals. His Lover’s gaze turned inquisitive. He even started to peel off before the old Orc stopped the Student in his movement, pressing firm hands on those cheeks to keep them full.
“To be mine.”
He said it. And he sighed, experiencing that tender Lover keeping this suction, wondrous suction. There wasn’t much need for a back-and-forth to get Urag excited. The movement of the tongue, the saliva, the pressure, the rubbing, it was enough for his body to get going. For his boots to press further on the orbs, knowing that if it were too much, a tap on his thighs would stop him.
He could crush them… Fix the situation like a few Orc clans would do.
But he released the pressure slightly, instead rolling his feet against it, pressing on the organs with an angle coming from the exterior. And he closed his eyes, looking at the ceiling and the hanging dried plants. He exhaled again, feeling the tension in his groin growing.
He kept stroking the Argonian’s face, feeling the suction continuing as his thighs tensed. He released the pressure from his feet and growled… Then, the suction stopped. At once.
“Wo… What?” he asked, feeling his orgasm close but receding. He was so close, so damn close. His balls even felt heavier, painful, as he looked down and wiped some saliva from his face.
“I want to tell you something, Urag,” mumbled the Argonian, standing up slowly while wiping his face. Up and about, he had his hands outstretched and palms up for the Orc to grip. And when it was done, the Argonian pulled.
Pulled the Orc up on his feet… Before their bodies narrowly bumped. Urag’s Lover was about to drop, only for those green arms to wrap around and hold by the waist.
“Okay. Tell me now. What’s happening? Is this our last time? Have you found someone else?” asked the Orc, frowning as the situation slipped out of his control.
“What? No?” asked the Argonian, frowning and grimacing, his hands on the Orc’s chest, their bellies pressed together… And Urag’s tent rubbing against the Argonian’s slit. “First. This is nothing bad.”
Urag still glanced, looking at the eyes, watching the slight tremor.
“Then?”
Then… The Argonian slowly slipped away from the embrace, checking with the markings on his belly, to make sure they were pristine.
“Can you… Strip for me?”
“If it’s to take it behind, you could have asked, Girl,” said Urag, still going for his belts and layers of clothes. It was tedious, especially with such an erection taking most of his attention and tranquility. He wanted to cum, he could take his Lover. Stuff him on the bed from behind, in a chokehold like last time… But no.
He grumbled, frowned. But finally, the last parts dropped, though remained his boots. It was not sexy, but he stood around, kicking his clothes off as he was naked. The Argonian’s eyes were on his round belly, his slightly saggy pecs… Then on his cock.
An awful silence hung around until Urag coughed. He did not want to reach for the Argonian, though he could. And for a moment, the youngest of the two seemed to tiptoe. Until he pointed to the markings.
“I did some changes to the design.”
“I saw that. You were searching for something new? What’s important? Don’t tell me you want to reco-” he started, watching the thin smile on the Argonian’s face as he shook his head. “Something else, then?”
Well… This time, the Argonian approached and has their groins touching, frotting, rubbing together as he sighed.
“I… Want a cunt. So you can fuck me like a proper girl, Urag,” said the Argonian, brimming with joy. “I found the formula. I haven’t tried it yet. But if it works.”
If it worked… Urag fingers descended, touching and stroking the slit, touching the soft scales. He played with them, pulled on them.
“If it works… You are mine.”
There were no other options. They wanted it. And so, his Lover smiled.
“Yes. I’ll be yours. Truly.”
“But you are afraid.”
The smile disappeared for a moment, the lips bitten. The eyes drifted away. The neck scratched.
“I would lie if I said no. I… Want it. Desperately. But if I’m losing it…”
“Then let’s make it something new.”
Without even asking for more, the Orc grabbed his Lover’s thighs and forced him to turn, to twist. And through some uncertain movements, they were back sitting. But with the Argonian on the Orc’s laps, his legs open by the Orc’s knees.
The Argonian’s soft scales pressed against Urag’s belly, making him feel the tremor and shivers from his lover as his soft hands reached between his legs and…
“Hhh!”
A mere touch, and he was already writhing from the intense pleasure. Yet, Urag did not stop as he had two fingers deeply inserted into the Argonian’s slit. The entrance was warm, hot, slick. The precum pouring from it was watery and mostly clean, enough for the Orc to continue fingering the passage, all the while, teasing the nub that had been such a monster before their relationship. Something that was… More ordained for the submissive Argonian, whose neck outstretched under the kisses.
“Tell me when it’s coming,” said Urag, his voice soft and encouraging while he watched his Lover tense, the limbs outstretched and tensing.
The legs tried again to close, but Urag’s knees were on the way. The arms flailed before they locked on the scalie legs to dig into the knees. The breathing quickened, the chest lifted and descended at a frantic pace. And then, the moans were coming clearer.
“C-Coming,” moaning the Argonian, enjoying the old Orc’s sultry touch. He loved the contact on the tip, oversensitive from the changes. Yet, the fingertip circling around the urethra and playing with it, no different than the sounds they had started to use.
Oh and the depths, feeling how tense and short was the Slit, exploring the inner walls, the prostate through them.
It was a novelty, a brutal exploration. And the Argonian was grinning, ear to ear, while his body was taken by spasms, by tremors… And by the intense orgasm that had been pointing from the depths. It happened in one instant, sweeping over him.
A tidal wave locking the spine and tail in place.
And Urag felt it, too.
He felt the echoes of the sensations from his lover’s aching breath, the tension releasing from the limbs, the deep sigh escaping those lips as he continued to cover that neck with kisses. Even the drumming beat in the arteries had calmed as fluids poured from the Argonian’s oversized urethra and landed on the Orc’s fingers, then on the slit’s limits, the testicles, then the wooden floor.
Yet, it was not done…
Not done as the Argonian’s bliss turned into pain. As he hissed and his tail wrapped around Urag’s right leg, strangling it. He hissed and salivated, spat, and tensed his neck.
“What is happening?” asked Urag, looking at the Argonian. After that instant of peace, the Argonian’s body was taken over by the pain. The soft claws were digging into the thighs to the blood… The limbs outstretched, the knees lifted… The face contorted into pain.
“I-Hmphhh!”
A tentative of a word and Urag was about to lift him, to pry his fingers free. And as he did… No. The Argonian’s hand gripped his wrist. Held him close, but higher.
“P-Pain! Lower! It!” shouted the Argonian before he hissed again, the tail almost crushing the Orc’s leg.
“I am n-” He was not like Colette, capable of removing the pain. But it didn’t matter. He mouthed a spell, silently, and let a glow form at his fingertips before he touched the Argonian’s belly, letting the soothing touch spread over that part.
And there was a sigh… A relaxation. The legs stopped tensing, the arms relaxed… That face became the expression of relief. An earnest relief.
“Oh… Thank you… Urag. That’s… What I needed,” mumbled the Argonian, his expression dejected. If he could sweat like Humans or Orcs, he would be.
“What was that?”
“The… Spell,” pointed the Argonian, coughing and laughing, uncoiling his tail.
“You knew it would happen?”
“I… Presumed. Couldn’t do without.”
“You could have told me.”
“You would have told me not to do that, then. And never would I… We have what we need.”
“We need?”
With a more gentle touch, the Argonian reached for Urag’s other hand. For the moment, one remained focused on the spell. But the other guided the Orc to the slit, to the lips. To the warm and sultry entrance. However, as he touched, he still felt the nub there, inside. It was warm, smaller, and the Argonian tensed at the touch. But it was definitely there, the remnant of his cock. Inside the slit that had been shortened.
“It’s… it didn’t work. Your cocklet is still there.”
“Oh. It is. I- I couldn’t figure out the other way.”
Cryptic, the Argonian still guided the Orc. He abandoned the wrist to hold the fingers instead, enjoining them to touch the tip, to poke at the “glans”, and then the urethra. The orifice was there, but it seemed softer. More… Eager. It clenched, too, when Urag brushed it. But it opened under the caresses, and the Student breathed quickly from the intense sensation: “Continue.”
Urag’s fingers continued, and then started to delve inside. The orifice was velvety, soft, reminding of… Something he had enjoyed when he still had a partner. Female.
He brushed it, touched the walls… Then pulled away. And looked at the Argonian.
“It’s not the way you like it, but-”
No. It was not the way he used to like it. But it did not matter for Urag as he reached, forced the Argonian to turn his head and for their lips to kiss. Not a complete, but merely the scraping of tusks against the scales, before he let go. Both hands: the one holding the head; the second holding the soothing spell. The change was done, and so was the pain.
“It is good for me. And I can’t wait to try this out,” said Urag, his cock hard and erect… yet, still poking at the Argonian’s scrotum. An oddity, but the Orc reached for his Lover and lifted him. He even supported him as they were going on their feet, and the younger Argonian was a tottering mess. The gait uncertain, Urag helped him climb the stepladder to the bed and followed, his organ pointing towards his lover.
“How does it feel?”
“Strange… But I can’t wait to try it out,” mumbled the Argonian, extending his legs once on the bed. Spreading them was almost natural, his hips a bit larger. However, it remained peculiar to see the Argonian who, except for his slit, looked still masculine. Well, if the lithe and wiry Argonian could count as one.
“What are you waiting for?”
“I was thinking… But I’ll bother you later,” said Urag, going on all fours and over the Argonian. His belly sagged and pressed on the soft scales, weighing on them. He might have been abusing ale a bit. But it was nothing. Nothing that stopped them as their lips met. As their bodies pressed together, as the legs were already locking around his waist. The heels gave him little nudges, but the old Orc was steady and thorough. He held his cock, had it hard and stiff in his hand. He pumped it, stroked it until the cocktip was smeared with fluids. And then… He pointed it at the slit. The entrance was wide enough, he didn’t have to worry.
No… The issue was more the cocktip he searched, pointing in different directions with his fingers. Then, he brushed it. He brushed it again, circling around it. And for a moment, his angry huffs echoed the needy ones from the Argonian until their cocktips met.
Until Urag was ready to press on and… Pushed further. Just the tip, right against the Argonian’s modified urethra.
A hiss. A groan. And he slowed.
“Co-ntinue.”
“If it hurts…”
“It doesn’t.”
A glance and a confirmation, he ensured his partner wasn’t overwhelmed by the sensation. Then, he pushed deeper. His cocktip pressed within the velvety passage, feeling how the walls were… So soft. They pressed against his length, massaged and squeezed on it… And he was feeling it.
His lover was tight, tighter than most girls once they were used to Urag’s penetration. It was like being held all the way, stroked by the walls. And the Argonian was hissing, gritting his teeth, and closing his eyelids.
But the feet remained locked, and so were the hands on the Orc’s shoulders.
The progress was slow, steady, as their bodies were coming close together. As inch after inch, Urag had his length slipping inside. The hole… No. The cunt was just wondrous. And after he had passed a sort of sphincter, a tighter presence, he was met with a sort of place, a cavity. But the insides were much more delicate and yet with little nodules pressing against his cock, massaging it.
Whoever wrote the base of the formulae his lover used was crazy. But they were also a genius since the Orc enjoyed the odd but pleasant sensation. And the constant stroking over his cock as he then started to pull back, feeling how the sphincter softly tugged on his corona.
“That’s… Phew,” said Urag, sweat dripping all over his face. He had to control himself; he had to restrain his needs to breed that hole. But he wanted it so badly.
“It’s not perf-” said the Argonian, his composure coming back and his eyes looking away.
He did not dare to say the rest as Urag chuckled and scoffed.
“Your hole is the best hole I’ve ever felt in my life, idiot. I want to fuck you so hard.”
The Argonian’s eyes widened, and he closed them. His fingers tapped on the Orc’s shoulders. His legs relaxed, unlocked as he spread them again. But as he did so, he felt Urag’s fingers digging into his posterior, playing with it.
“Can you… Fuck me as hard as poss- wait.”
Urag’s nascent grin and excited breath stopped right away before the Argonian. And a small pause remained between the two, filled by the crackling fire and their breaths. Mainly Urag as he approached, feeling ashamed suddenly as he pressed his lips on the muzzle.
“I-” began the Argonian.
“We will make it a good first time,” said the Orc as he passed a hand underneath the Argonian’s buttocks, giving them a firm grip and feel while he advanced again. Slowly, steadily. His cock progressed within the Argonian’s newly formed cunt… From the modified and expanding cock to the sphincter leading to the vagina and… Well, its tightness was divine.
There was the need to take and claim that hole. But Urag sighed and went slowly, his face still pressed against the Argonian. He inhaled the perfume of Frost Mirriam, felt the tremor shaking those hips as he continued to advance. His belly squeezed and pressed, making him feel almost ashamed of it and the pressure he added to his Lover.
But then, their hips met. Not exactly, but he rested on the Argonian’s hips, his cock firmly entrenched inside that cunt, their balls pressed together.
For a moment, they stood still, their breaths ragged.
“Good?” asked Urag.
“Good.”
Another kiss on the muzzle, and he pulled back. Slowly, trying not to tug on the soft nodules and the tight flesh, on the sphincter, then the cocktip. He pulled back, steadily, until his tip was out. And then, he pushed back. He pushed right inside, hit the Argonian’s entrance wide, forced the door wide open, and squeezed against the sultry walls.
There was a groan and a moan, but no pain. No hiss.
So he continued, taking it slow and steady. It was more difficult than a thorough breeding, both for his stamina and mind. But the old Orc resisted the call. He would make it a good first experience. Their… First experience with that hole. With taking his lover’s newly acquired cherry. Popping it.
Even if he had to grit his teet-
“Faster…. Urag.”
The words came, akin to freedom. A liberation for the Orc as he leaned forward. As he had his hips pressing on that muzzle. He couldn’t deny his desires. And so, he pushed.
Faster.
He didn’t wait for his Lover’s encouragement, he pushed as fast and deep as possible. The hole was velvety, tempting, exciting, pleasant. He couldn't deny the attraction he felt as he pumped inside that artificial vulva, enthralled by the wondrous sensations.
He didn’t want to stop. He couldn’t stop. Neither did his Lover want him to, as he pumped faster and faster, as his lips continued to kiss and nudge that muzzle until it opened under his insistence.
Finally, as the whispers and sighs started to fill the room, echoing the smacking hips and testicles together, the lips opened and their tongues tied again. The flavors from each other were exchanged, bestowed, relished, enjoyed.
The sultry moans grew in height, higher and higher as their breathing grew in tension. Their bodies were united, tangled, hitting one against another, smacking in thunderous shocks. The structure might have creaked under Urag’s strength, as he was no longer restraining himself or his love.
But it was much better as their pleasures grew and grew. Urag’s, in an erratic crescendo, heightening and sometimes dropping. Or his Lover’s, whose moans and groans were piling and ascending, a ceaseless orgasm.
One… That would culminate as the old Orc plunged deep, as he finally gave in, and hit what felt like a wall, a door, a passage that had been untaken. And as he hit it, his Lover roared, the back arching… Almost.
But it was too late for him to react out of fear, to pull back. His control, his hold, slipped, and so followed his orgasm. His ejaculation.
A fire, an explosion arose from his scrotum and followed the path given by his body. Up, in, down, out… A long tedious path, that continued onward, yet down following gravity and their bodies.
His seed poured free and inside the Argonian, in a warm flood. Hot.
His hips trembled one more time, his prostate clenching further to send whatever might have remained. And again. Again.
His growly voice was akin to a whistle as he abandoned the lips to dig his tusks against his Lover’s shoulders, scraping the gray scales while he kept ejaculating, following a bestial and blood-rushed instinct. Until… Until he dropped.
Like a dead weight.
“Hrph!” moaned the Argonian below, still bent and taken. But not so pained as he chuckled here after, the neck outstretched not to hit Urag’s forehead.
“I… I hope this was as good for you as it was for me,” laughed Urag, after a few seconds of recuperation. A respite he used well to slowly raise on his wobbly hands and knees, to pull up his end. And with it, followed his cock slowly slipping free from that artificial vulva, from the remains of the Argonian’s cock… Before he rolled on the side… Besides his Lover.
“I… I think it cannot even compare,” sighed the Argonian, swallowing his saliva and reaching to cover his chest.
For a moment, they were silent. No words. Only their breaths and the crackling fire… And maybe the sound of the Argonian’s hole trying to close, with little sputtering sounds.
Argonian who reached for his face, burning.
“How does it feel?” asked Urag, looking at the ceiling, observing the wood grain. He could roll, but he would make a mess as he felt his cum-covered genitals on his thighs.
“Less intense. But… More continuous. More… Right?” mumbled the Argonian, chuckling. And then rolling. Surprised, Urag followed his Lover’s movements until the Argonian rode Urag’s belly, their genitals touching… That scrotum on his cock.
“And you?” asked Urag, grinning, knowing the answer.
“Much better. I feel like… I’m free from a weight.”
“Still, you have two other weights,” chuckled the Orc, going between the Argonian’s legs and beyond that posterior to pat that scrotum.
“I’ll have to think about it… Maybe… Well, they were supposed to go up and finish the transformation. It felt… Like a pussy?”
Urag shook his head, but bore a smile that continued even with the Argonian’s dejected sigh.
“It was different. But way better, and enjoyable. Do not lessen yourself or try to compare. You’ve given me something much better,” said the Orc, before he reached and gripped the Argonian’s shoulders. Widened eyes met Urag’s gaze, but soon eased when they were going for another kiss.
“And I prefer it that way. I might have some things to do with them… Since you are into that.”
“You-”
“Know? Yes. And I know for a fact you loved feeling mine against yours,” Urag continued, fondly, stroking that back. He felt the cum, his cum, pouring all over his belly. But if his Lover didn’t care… So was he.
“I want to do so many things with you. I want… You. And nothing more matters.”
-
Urag growled as he lowered the axe. It was… strange. His hands were starting to get more calloused from the yardwork. But it was necessary as they needed wood for the hearth. And honestly, it was better now that he had almost moved out of the Arcanaeum. Savos was still a bit sour, but it was not like the Orc was gone.
Truth was, he still held the role of Librarian even if he was instructing a new student to the role. Not… His favorite.
Heaving and white puffs forming from his lips, the rugged Orc still wore the College’s robes as he lowered the axe and snapped a log in two before he threw it aside. Alas, the temperature was bearable, and he cou-
“Urag! Hey!”
The voice ticked off the old Orc for a second, though he relaxed. It wasn’t for something silly; he was not working. So he relaxed, his shoulders dropping as he turned and saw Tolfdir. And their favorite Student, looking a bit flustered.
“Tolfdir. Are you not busy teaching your students?” said the Orc, dropping the axe and passed a hand over his sore back. Though less sore than from their “nights”.
“No. I was running errands when I noticed a familiar face. You’ve finally returned? Heh?”
“Not as a full-time Librarian,” explained the Orc, raising one hand. “Savos will explain it to you.”
“So what? Are you retiring? And will you replace him?” asked Tolfdir, pointing his chin at the well-covered Argonian who stepped closer, and passed an arm around Urag’s.
“No. I am helping him. But I’ll stay as a student.”
Urag nodded, his gaze going to the Argonian as his hand moved, rubbing what was beneath the robe.
“What?” asked Tolfdir, frowning, looking at the two. “You have to do some explanations. The College’s still in turmoil from your departure!”
Well, the College was important. But the Orc was glad he had found a sort of kinship. They only returned yesterday from their travel further south, where they met with a few blacksmiths and lapidaries. Yet, the Mages were asking for details. The reason for their absence, what was happening, and so on.
Slowly, Urag’s hand lowered, and he saw a shy grin from his Lover, who moved his fingers, casting a spell. Illusions.
Perfect.
“Well. We went on a little honeymoon together. Enjoying the countryside, meeting with our mutual families. Or what remains.”
“Honey… moon. Are you two?” asked Tolfdir, his brows lifted.
Though Tolfdir’s brows lifted higher when Urag’s hand gripped his lover’s robe to lift it. It was something he had been so eager to do one day, and the option was just perfect. He also knew his Lover wanted it, too.
And as he lifted, he revealed first those powerful thighs… And the heavy scrotum dangling in between. A golden ring had been cinched around it, weighing the orbs down. But it was only the beginning: Orcish script had been inked on the scales.
Tolfdir couldn’t comprehend it, but it merely said, “Abuse me, Urag”. Such a perverse marking, yet… Yet the Orc continued to lift, finally exposing the Argonian’s newly acquired cunt. The “labia” had been pierced by a golden ring though the remnant of the cocktip was visible and drippy due to the slit’s natural gape.
A peculiar ring the Orc brushed before he pulled the robe higher to reveal what had been written, in common this time: “Urag’s Property”.
“Oh, he’s my bitch,” said Urag, watching the Argonian’s flustered but joyful expression, as much as he smelled it. Or felt it by the hand going for Urag’s robe. The scaly hand pulled on the fabric and lifted it. It was a mutual agreement for the two to no longer wear anything under the robes… And Urag’s genitals dangled just as much as his Lover’s scrotum. However, his cock remained there, half-chub… And pierced with a decorative ring.
“Wh-” started Tolfdir, surprised as he looked around. But nobody in the street seemed to have noticed it… Whether the perverse display or the tattoos.
But he was silenced by the Argonian’s index.
“If you want, we can talk about it together in private. We have a stew prepared. I’m sure there’s a lot of catch-up to do,” said Urag, watching Tolfdir’s pants bulge. No different than that flustered face.
Even more so when the Orc’s fingers descended to play with the ring. It was not like an amulet of Mara in significance, but the wedding rings pierced through their genitals were… Revealing.
“I… might be interested. If I can do more than watch,” said Tolfdir, his face burning.
A glance at the Argonian, who nodded, and Urag nodded along.
“Sure, but only in the back,” chuckled the Orc; opening the door and letting Tolfdir inside their home.