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[b][u][center]Soulbound Wagers

Chapter 3

For Damiekinz

By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]

Asmund had his cock in a loose grip, still half-hard and sensitive. The polar bear stared at it for another couple of seconds before finally letting go with a groan of frustration.

“No…not worth it…”

He grumbled as he rubbed his hands against his face. The continuing distractions of the nipple piercings and the nose-ring pulled at his attention, but the dull throbbing at his groin was enough of a distraction to keep him from paying that much attention to them. Even if they were rather embarrassing and…sensual.

“Not. Fucking. Worth it.”

Even if it meant he’d go into the next competition horny instead of calm and sober, it was not worth losing the energy that it’d take to get himself off. He needed as much strength as he could muster to get around that cunning asshole of an Overthane.

[i]I’m going to teach him a lesson when he finally loses his soul,[/i] Asmund thought, putting his hands down at his sides as he stared at the ceiling. [i]I’m going to turn him into the biggest butt-slut of my harem. I’m going to make sure that he never, ever forgets what happens to those that humiliate me…[/i]

Few enough ever had. After he finished with Targir, he doubted that anyone would ever dare try again.

He rolled onto his side as he heard movement further down the hall. Someone was probably coming to get him again, and that meant that it was probably almost time for the next event. Knowing the damn wolf, the game was probably already picked out and the Pavilion appointed for it.

Gods, but he couldn’t wait to knock that smug grin off Targir’s face.

The door to his quarters opened. No knock this time; they were losing some of their respect for him, if they ever had any to begin with.

Asmund sat up as another white wolf female stepped inside. This one was naked, and he could see that she was already touched with someone’s seed. A hint of it ran down her thigh, though she stood before him without the slightest bit of shame. His eyes were drawn to her nose ring and the nipple piercings, all gold, just like his own.

It was a sobering view, and for a moment, his grin faded. He wondered if he would look like that if he lost any more games.

[i]You won’t lose.[/i]

He shook his head, pushing himself to his feet. His clothes still hung loose over his chest, leaving him with a flap over his rump and one over his cock. He forced a chuckle as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“So, your wolf master ready for me?” he asked.

“Indeed, Warlord. If you will follow me.”

“Yeah. Question, first.”

“Yes?”

“How often does he do this?”

“Do what, Warlord?”

“All…this. The long Wagers, everything.”

“You are the fourth one this month, Warlord.”

Asmund growled under his breath. He’d worried that this was a little more common than he’d first thought, but he hadn’t imagined that Targir would have been so busy with so many Wagers. Then again, he wasn’t one to just go for the kill the way that Asmund did; he took his time, enjoying the game over and over again. The wolf wasn’t one to just kill his prey and have done with it. He liked to torment them, to take his time and enjoy the shift in their life. He liked to see how long he could drag it out.

[i]Well, you’re going to see what happens when you piss off a bear,[/i] he thought, falling in step behind the naked female. [i]You’re going to lose. I’m onto your little tricks now. No more bullshit.[/i]

It didn’t take long to get from the bedroom to the Challenge Pavilion, and this time, he didn’t even bother to look at the white wolf as he walked along. There was no temptation, not this time. All he had room for in his mind was the absolute and utter humiliation of the man that had put him through all of this to begin with.

As he’d thought, a new arrangement had already been put together while he was resting. Targir waited by one of the tables beneath the Pavilion, as ever, but the garden had a number of archery targets set up, each one a little further off than the last, with the final target just barely visible at the top of the wall around the garden. They were all in reach for the average bowman, though getting a solid hit on some of them would require some skill.

“Archery, huh?” Asmund asked.

“Indeed. I imagined that you would appreciate the chance to show off more of your, ahem, skill.”

“Heh. I thought you preferred games of chance. Or do you think that you got enough ‘leverage’ for this that you can beat me just because we’re on your turf?”

“I may not be a warrior, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my hobbies. Now, archery?”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll take that as your game.”

“Then as my Wager, I would see you take the ring I mentioned last time, plus one more. This one, for your cock.”

“Rings, eh?”

Asmund looked down at his chest. Every time he moved, he could feel the tiny weights of the gold bands through his nipples shifting, pulling, dragging at the little nubs. It had to be his imagination, but he swore that he could feel the cold far stronger than he used to, and that they were much more sensitive, as well. The polar bear did his best not to focus on that, shaking his head.

“Fine. Then if I win, I’m gonna fuck you in front of your court. No more playing nice with you.”

“Fuck me, will you? Now that is a threat.”

“Heh, what’s the matter? Not had much experience with getting it under your tail?”

“Heh, a man of my stature has seldom needed to offer that side of himself,” Targir said, the silver-furred wolf shrugging and shaking his head. “At any rate, that is a bargain for me. Anything else?”

“Already said all I needed to say.”

“Excellent. Choose your bow, and let’s begin.”

Asmund wasn’t [i]that[/i] worried. While archery was hardly the sort of pastime that most bears took part in, he knew enough about them to hit a target while in the middle of war. The arrows were often blunted for that sort of combat, of course, but they [i]were[/i] aimed at moving targets across a hundred feet of distance or more. Hitting something that was standing still should be easy in comparison.

He picked up a greatbow, one that was nearly his height, and strung it. It took a few attempts, though more from lack of practice than lack of strength. Once he had it ready, he grabbed his allotted five arrows and joined the wolf at the target line. A bodyguard stood beside the wolf lord, and raised his hand.

“Nock!”

Asmund and Targir laid an arrow on the string and the front curve of the bow. Neither pulled, not yet.

“Pull!”

They moved in unison with one another. As he lifted the bow, he pulled back with his shoulder, and the arrow slid into place. The head rested just over his fingers as he stared down the shaft, making sure that he had it perfectly situated for the target.

[i]Easy. Easy.[/i]

The bodyguard opened his mouth, then –

Targir whistled.

Without warning, the nipple rings started buzzing. Asmund arched his back and the bow shifted out of alignment –

“Loose!”

They both let go, even though Asmund hadn’t meant to. His arrow went flying up and over the wall, soaring out of sight in the space of a second, while Targir’s arrow went right to the center of his target.

Asmund threw the bow to the ground, grunting and growling and on the verge of roaring in rage. Targir smiled, cocking his head to the side.

“Oh, don’t complain. I didn’t break any rules.”

“I said you couldn’t use the damn rings!”

“And I didn’t…last game.”

“…”

“You have to refresh the rules every time that you make a Wager, Asmund. Surely, you know that.”

“…You…you bastard. You –”

“Careful. You know what happens if you try and fight now.”

The bear gritted his teeth until they were on the verge of cracking. Goddamned wolf with his goddamned technicalities. Fucking – [i]fuck.[/i]

“Nock!”

He had no choice but to keep going. As unlikely as it was, he had to try and get at least [i]something[/i] with all this. Otherwise…otherwise, he had already lost.

There were four targets left. On the second, third, and fourth, Targir started whistling just before they were due to loose the arrow, and every single time, Asmund couldn’t hold back from moaning and twisting about. The buzzing through his chest hit him hard every time, and it tingled and teased him more than anything ever had. He couldn’t remember his nipples ever, [i]ever[/i] being that sensitive, and he didn’t think he ever wanted them to be like that again.

Buzz.

Buzz.

Buzz.

His arrows went all over the place. One lodged in the stone wall, another went into the ground, and the fourth of his five arrows went straight up in the air. Everyone ran for shelter, even him, and they didn’t come out again until the arrow landed in the dirt once more.

Targir, on the other hand, had managed two bullseyes, one near-center, and a near-miss. The silver-furred wolf smiled as they returned to the line, smiling up at him.

“Not a good game on your part, Asmund,” the Overthane said, shaking his head as he took his position. “I would have thought that a warrior like you would be better at this.”

“Nnngh…just…take your fucking shot,” the bear grunted.

Hard. Throbbing. Teased to hell and back. He was huffing and puffing by the time that he took his position again. His nipples felt like someone had been twisting and teasing them for hours rather than minutes, and his breath came harder and faster than it had while he’d been getting rimmed. He felt like some bitch-boy after a long night with a new master, and nobody had actually touched him.

Once more, he nocked the arrow. Once more, he pulled it back. Once more, Targir whistled.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

They were humming and vibrating so intently that he could barely breathe. He stiffened up, his hands shaking as he struggled to stare down the arrow. His vision blurred, and he blinked quickly, but his cock…oh, his cock ached from how hard it was.

“Loose!”

They did. Asmund dropped the bow as soon as the arrow flew, the greatbow hitting the ground with a dull thud, and he grabbed at the nipples, squeezing them as tight as he could. He knew how it looked – almost like he was playing with them – but he was only trying to hold them still so that they stopped buzzing at him.

“Stop…stop…stop…”

Targir whistled again, and they finally did. He wheezed for breath, slumping back and almost falling over.

“Hmmm, looks like I won,” the Overthane said. “Though…by less than I expected.”

Asmund huffed, looking up at the targets on the wall. Targir’s arrow had missed completely, but his arrow had sunk right through the middle of the target circle. The hardest one to hit, and he’d managed it.

Didn’t make a fucking bit of difference considering that he’d missed all the others, but at least he had managed to get [i]one.[/i]

“Well, no matter. Off with your clothes, Warlord. I need free access here.”

“Nnngh…gimme a – nnngh!”

He didn’t get a minute. The Wager seized hold of him, and he stripped with an efficiency that belied the situation. His garment hit the ground, leaving him completely naked in front of Targir. The wolf already had his rings ready, and he was chuckling to himself as he walked around the bear’s back end.

“You know, this is a better view. You’ll have to stay naked after this, you know; no point in having the rings if you’re not showing them off.”

“Nnngh…”

“Now, let’s see…”

The first ring went around the polar bear’s stubby tail. It was so light back there that he barely felt it, just a little impression of weight against the small of his back. That was fine.

The cock ring, on the other hand, was far more obvious.

As it slid down his dark shaft, running down the fleshy rod toward the base, he swore he could feel something to it that was more than just mere metal. It tingled just like the piercings through his nose and nipple.

[i]Magic. More bullshit magic. It has to be.[/i]

The Wager didn’t let him move, not just yet. He had to stand there and be subjected to the wolf stroking a finger along the underside of his cock, dragging the clawed tip from his balls all the way up to the tip. The way that the whole thing was thrust forward, on display due to the cock ring, didn’t make it any easier.

“That will make the rest of our games much more enjoyable,” Targir said when he finally stood up. “And I certainly imagine that you’ll enjoy showing off, won’t you, Warlord?”

“You…are…”

“Yes?”

“…”

“Well, I believe that it is your turn to pick a challenge. And what will you pick this time, I wonder? Single combat? Or will you save that for the final round, when we actually Wager our souls? If we get there; I’m having quite a bit of fun with this.”

“You would be.”

He shook his head. Glancing at his clothes out of the corner of his eye, he gave up on the idea of getting dressed again. He doubted that there’d be any way to keep them on, not with the rings and the piercings, and he wouldn’t put it past Targir to have something in mind that would make it worse if he was in any way covered up. Besides, it wasn’t like being naked embarrassed him.

Not much, at least.

He crossed his arms. Much as he would like to pick something that was more physical and less in the realm of chance, he knew better than to think that he had every single variable nailed down. He’d won a grand total of once, and that was due to luck being more involved rather than strategy.

Which meant that he needed to rely on that again. The less that Targir could do to affect the outcome, the more chance he had. Which meant that he had to do something [i]stupid[/i] to give himself the best chance of winning.

“Fine. I know the game.”

“What’s that?”

“A simple game of dice.”

“Something so small? So simple?” Targir arched an eyebrow. “You have just as much chance of losing as you do of winning.”

“Same can be said of you, heh.”

“…”

“And with dice, even if you fuck with me, it doesn’t matter. All I gotta do is throw the dice.”

The way that Targir didn’t immediately respond to him that he was on the right track. All the advantages that the wolf had been stacking up with the piercings and rings didn’t matter in games of chance. All that mattered there was luck, and that was something that Asmund had in heaps.

“You agree?” he asked.

“I don’t suppose you’ll pick something else?”

“No.”

“…Then I have little choice, if I want the games to continue. But after this, I’ll pick something more interesting.”

“Heh, go ahead. Can’t stop you. But for my Wager…I Wager that you’ll have to give a speech to your entire court about bear superiority. You gotta stand in front of them while I finger-fuck your ass, telling them all about how much better bears are than wolves, and how you all crave nothing more than to have your noses rammed up against our balls, your tongues jammed up our asses, and your cheeks spread for us to take.”

Targir paused. Oh, Asmund felt better than ever to see the wolf even slightly discomforted, considering the sheer amount of humiliation that he had suffered so far. He had stumbled onto something – he wasn’t sure what yet, but something – and it had changed the game completely. The wolf muttered under his breath, rubbing his chin, then nodded to himself.

“Fine. Then in return, I make the same Wager. If I win, then you have to give the same speech in front of my court [i]and[/i] your bodyguards, while I finger you. You have to tell them how much better wolves are than bears, and how all this toughness is nothing but an act, a way to spice things up when you finally break.”

“Agreed.”

For the first time, Asmund felt in charge of the game. It had been slipping away from him ever since that first Wager, but now…now, things were going his way.

“Bring us dice,” Targir said. “Quickly.”

“Hope you’re ready to lose.”

#

The game was over in a single round, and now, they stood side by side in the wolf’s throne room. Targir stood with his robe cast off to the side, naked for the first time, and Asmund had to admit that he rather liked the shape of the silver wolf’s ass. Not so wide and large as some of the others he’d seen wandering around in their underwear and less, but nice enough, and certainly with enough muscle to squeeze tight.

He ran one hand over the cheeks, his ringed cock rising as he grinned to himself. The rest of the wolf’s court filed in on the upper levels, taking their seats as they looked down. They were clearly puzzled, uninformed of what was going on.

“Tell ‘em,” Asmund said. “And lift your fucking tail.”

“Oh, very well.”

The wolf’s tail went up, and Asmund slid his finger between the cheeks. He wasn’t surprised that the Overthane was a bit of a tight-ass. He didn’t look like the sort that offered his asshole around very freely. He probably hadn’t had a good dicking back there for years, if that. Well, all the easier to get him to squirm.

He worked his finger against that pucker, feeling it giving almost immediately. It clenched, of course, the other man’s body trying to keep him out, but it was going to give in, eventually.

Meanwhile, Targir cleared his throat. He smiled, spreading his arms as he looked up at his courtiers and attendants.

“My fellow wolves, I’ve been asked to give this speech. I suppose it’s fair enough to throw this bear a bone, but –”

Before Asmund could even growl at the half-assed speech, the Wager took control. He saw it, felt it. Targir’s eyes went from a simple, dull glint to a full glow, shimmering as the magic of their little bet took control. The wolf even arched his back, his ass cheeks pressing back against Asmund’s fingers as something else came out of his mouth.

“Mmm, but I have to confess, I love bears. They’re [i]so[/i] powerful, so manly and sexy, and they are far better than we little wolf-bitches.”

That was what he wanted to hear. Asmund grinned, his other hand going to his cock as he circled that tight little pucker, teasing it with the tip of his finger as it clenched and unclenched before him.

“I’ve been so close to this bear, and I tell you, his musk is driving me insane. I’ve never felt this way with another wolf before. So potent, so strong, and – mmmph…”

The glow faded, and Targir huffed. Before he could gather his thoughts, Asmund pushed his finger in, feeling the rim spread. It was still tight, barely able to take him without pain, but that was the point. The sheer tightness of it pushed the breath right out of the silver wolf’s lungs. And even more than that, it had his cock rising, getting stiffer, harder, pushing up from between his legs with every gentle thrust of the bear’s fingers.

“Go on,” Asmund growled.

“Nnngh…T-the bears are…are quite a bit stronger than us…and they’ve proven…time and time again…that they are willing to…to go through hardship that we would prefer not to do –”

Again, the Wager seized him. Targir moaned as he thrust his hips back, sinking the bear’s finger all the way into his ass. It didn’t matter that it had never taken something that thick; he did it anyway, and the sight was enough to keep Asmund hard, and dripping.

“Mmmm, and they are so much stronger than we are. Our cushy little thrones, our privileged little lives; it makes us soft, weak compared to the mighty bears like the man behind me. We sit on our asses for so long that they’ve become the perfect cock-cushions for the mighty ursine warriors, and our own men falter by comparison. Nnngh…even his finger is bigger than some of our cocks, and it’s making me feel so good…”

Asmund’s grin couldn’t get much bigger. He barely had to finger the Overthane. So long as that light was in the other man’s eye, so long as the wolf kept trying to fight the Wager by half-assing his speech, he was forced to humiliate himself.

He’d heard that there was something about the Wager that pushed the intent behind it to actually happen. The only way to avoid it was to follow the terms of the Wager without fail, and to push further than the Wager would force to keep it from activating. He must have been more focused on the feeling of getting a tongue up his ass for the last Wager than the humiliation.

This time, however…this time…

He growled as he pumped his hand up and down his dick, matching his finger’s thrusts to the rolling motions of the wolf’s hips. Targir kept groaning, sliding in and out of the control of the Wager, his eyes glowing and going dull, then glowing again.

“The bears – the bears are – are mighty, and they – they have their points, but – mmmph! Oh, they have such broad points, and they are going to show each wolf how it feels to serve them. Oh, can’t you smell him? Stronger than any male you’ve ever had in your bed, and so virile, and so – nnngh!

“Yes, his…his muscles are…are quite potent, and – and I would have to struggle to match them, and – and – ooooh, yes, and he can just take me however he wants, whenever he wants. We wolves are weak, weak and waiting for our betters to take us!”

The polar bear growled in his throat, picking up the pace of the finger-fucking as he looked around the room. Unlike last time, when he’d gotten rimmed by the Overthane in front of his court, this time, they were staring down in shock and awe. They couldn’t believe what they were seeing, or what they were hearing, and they were squirming in their seats with red cheeks and – in a few cases – bulges in their trousers.

[i]This[/i] was what Asmund had wanted from the start. Humiliation, power, authority over someone else in a way that hammered home just who was in charge. No more holding back, no more dealing with tricks. This…this was what he had craved.

“Keep…going…”

“Ah…ah…”

“Keep going!” he growled.

The silver wolf barely managed to keep himself upright, his eyes rolling back in their sockets as he sucked air to keep talking. His cock swayed from each finger-thrust up his ass, and his cheeks jiggled as the bear’s palm kept slapping between them. Each thrust was as good as a spank, and it had that pucker clenching down, that rim squeezing as tight as it could around his finger.

“He…he is…the best of the bears…but even…even the weakest bear…is better than the best wolf. Bigger cocks…bigger muscles…faster…stronger…They are the…the warriors of the ice…and the fuckers of all…all that come before them. They rut anything that…that they beat, and they…they can beat any of…of us…”

The wolf stumbled, leaning back, all but bouncing his ass on the finger ramming its way inside. Targir moaned, his head rolling back.

“We’re just bitches waiting to be claimed compared to them! Soft asses, soft holes, waiting to be claimed and filled and used by the superior bears and – NNNNGH!”

And just like that, Targir came. Whether it was the Wager, the fingering, or the raw humiliation that the Wager had put him through, it was enough to get the Overthane to cum and completely humiliate himself before his court. Whatever dignity he had left, whatever power he might have had, was gone.

Now, he was just a bitch on a bear’s finger.

Asmund could have pushed himself over the edge right then and there. He was tempted to do it, just to celebrate his victory, but instead, he pulled his hand back. He intentionally denied himself, smirking around the room as he took in the stares of every wolf courtier, every canine attendant in the throne room.

He was better. And now they saw it.

With a grunt, he pulled his finger free of Targir’s asshole. The glint of the Wager had left the silver wolf’s eyes, and he stumbled forward, stepping in the puddles of his own cum in the process.

“Heh…now [i]that[/i] was what I’ve been waiting for…”

Targir didn’t respond. The wolf just stared straight ahead, his eyes wide and his breath coming in harsher and harsher pants. He wasn’t broken – and Asmund would have been disappointed if he actually was – but he had been dealt a serious blow. For the first time, the polar bear felt like the wolf was going to take him seriously.

[i]About fucking time,[/i] he thought, shaking his head as he kicked the wolf’s robe off to the side. [i]I’ve taken down better men than him a dozen times already. I claimed two of his Underthanes before I even got here. And this whole time, he’s been treating me like a joke. If this didn’t ram that message through his skull, then nothing will.[/i]

“So, you gonna make sure that they keep watching, or you going to send them away like last time?” Asmund asked.

“They…stay,” Targir muttered. “They will stay, because the last game is going to be right here.”

“Last game, huh? You finally find a spine?”

The Overthane growled. It was a quiet sound, not one of the deep things that he had heard out on the ice or the louder snarls that occasionally broke the silence in the tents, but a quiet thing that showed barely contained rage. The wolf pulled himself upright, turned around, and looked Asmund dead in the eye.

There was none of the amusement from before. There was no cocky smirk, no knowing smile. This was the face of an enemy that had finally gotten the point that this was a real fight, and was going to treat it as such.

Most of his men would have been a little afraid. Asmund, however, grinned. This was what he had wanted the whole time.

“Glad you finally get it,” he said. “Ain’t one of those merchant boys that you’re used to. I don’t cut my losses and run. I keep going until I get what I want, or until someone beats me down so hard I can’t get up again. And lemme tell you. I don’t stay down easily.”

“Clearly.”

“So. We doing the real thing?”

“Yes.”

“Finally.”

To his surprise – and pleasure – the wolf didn’t try and get his clothes back, nor did he try and hide himself. Now that the games were done, he didn’t seem to care about humor or decorum. He didn’t seem to care about trying to impress anyone. He had that same intense glare that anyone that had been dealt a blow on the battlefield got, and Asmund could not have been happier to see it.

The worst insult to a warrior was to be disregarded. There would be no more of that.

“Bring us a table,” Targir called out. “Table, and two chairs. And the game.”

“What game, eh?”

“Olem-Ra.”

Asmund was impressed. There were plenty of copies of the game out in the world, of course, but there were few that knew how to play it properly. He’d picked up a set a long time ago when he raided a merchant caravan that was making its way onto the ice with goods for some of the further settlements, and he’d made the merchant himself teach him how to play. He hadn’t had the chance to play much, but he didn’t lose very often.

[i]Gotta make sure I don’t fuck this up,[/i] he thought as the servants darted hither and yon. [i]Only got one chance now. If I win, I get him as Soulbound, and if I lose, he gets me as Soulbound.[/i]

From the looks of things, he had a little while to put together a strategy, not just for the game, but for the stipulations. And this was the time that he had to get it right. The other times, the other little losses, it hadn’t mattered so much, but this time? This time, if he lost, it would be everything.

He had to come up with the right stipulations. The nipple piercings and the nose ring were doubtlessly going to be used again if he didn’t do something about them, and the ring around his cock and at the base of his tail were probably magical, too. He couldn’t count them out.

How did he put this properly? If it wasn’t specific, then Targir could still use them against him. Just saying ‘Don’t cheat’ wouldn’t be enough. Just saying ‘Don’t use items’ wouldn’t be enough.

As the servants milled about, Targir just kept staring at him. It was such a deadly, serious stare that he almost felt afraid. He didn’t, he never did, but it was the first time that he came close to feeling it from an opponent.

It was a novel experience, but not one that he particularly wanted to repeat.

Think.

Think.

Think.

[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: Asmund has another pair of events, and ends up getting a win on Targir.

Tags: M/M, Fingering, Anal Fingering, Orgasm, Forced Orgasm, Body Control, Cock Ring, Nipple Vibes, Fantasy, Magic, Betting, Forfeits, Series, Polar Bear, Wolf, Nudity, Piercings, Cum, Speciesism, Humiliation,