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Orcish Expansion For Greywolf15000 By Draconicon

Purpose. Some people had it, and some didn't. Bjorn counted himself lucky to have found true purpose already. Leor, the master of all, had brought it with him to the dwarven mountains, and now all who lived under the mountain understood their place. Leor's purpose became their own, and when his god-emperor asked him to leave the mountain and speak to the greenskins of the plains, he did not object. To bring the great lion's will to another people was not a task. It was a blessing.

The grass parted ahead of them, and he lifted his hand, calling his fifty dwarves to a halt. A quick tug at the reins stilled his pony as well, as the greenskins stepped into the open, blades and larger weapons at the ready. He kept still, but not out of fear. He didn't fear death, only the chance of failing his lord's commands.

Do not antagonize the orcs. They're key to my plans. Keep them alive and bring them into the fold however you can. I entrust this task to you, Bjorn. Do not fail me.

He indulged himself with a smile, but only for a moment. He couldn't afford to spend longer on such pleasurable meditations of his god-emperor's words. After all, even Leor's armies would be hard-pressed to fight through an orcish battalion, and he was both outnumbered and surrounded. Best not to look cocky.

As his dwarves were surrounded by six times their number, Bjorn picked out the leader of the warband. The orc didn't have enough armbands to be a chief, but his weapons were notched with the marks of a rising warrior. A scout leader, perhaps, or even so far as a...What was the word Leor had used?

War-Scarred.

The word came to mind without effort, and the dwarf thought a prayer of praise to the lion. Many lessons had been hypnotized into him in preparation for this, and it was good to see that they came when needed. Leor took care of him, even from this distance. His god-emperor knew all.

The dwarf leaped off of his pony and bowed at the waist, his beard nearly scraping the ground in the process.

"Greetings, warriors. I come from the great mountains to speak with your people."

Chuckles and grunts emerged from the tall, broad greenskins. The last time that orcs and dwarves had spoken about anything, they'd barely kept civil long enough to declare a ceasefire until Leor was defeated. That had been before Bjorn had been given purpose, before the god-king had told them the truth.

The orcs must learn the same lesson...though in a different way.

The leader of the warband smirked.

"What could the dwarves have to say to us about anything?"

"I come bearing news."

"What, that your mountain has fallen? We know that already."

Interesting, and problematic. He remembered the closed borders, the many patrols, the hundreds of secret watchers his god-emperor had established around the dwarven kingdom. Bjorn's people and the lion's had been tasked to keep the 'fall' of the mountain secret, to make it look as if they were merely allies. Yet, someone had gotten through.

Most interesting, most interesting indeed.

It would have to be dealt with later. Such disloyalty to Leor must be rooted out and punished. Any defiance could only come from evil hearts and intentions, and he wished nothing more than to turn and deal with these traitors.

However, he had his assignment, and his god-emperor had many other priests capable of rooting out traitors. He was needed here. He cleared his throat.

"I bear more news than that, but the news is for the ears of your chieftain only. Is it still the great Torug?"

A blink of surprise. Yes, Leor was right again. Torug...

He remembered Torug, though vaguely. A powerful warrior and a key chieftains of the plains warriors, he held the key towards opening the plains for the god-emperor. Should that orc convert...

Bjorn deliberately stepped away from his pony - and his only escape - to stand in front of the War-Scarred orc, looking up at him.

"Allow me to speak with Torug. There are many things that he must know from the mountain..."

All things but one are permissible in the service of the god-emperor. The first tenet of the law of Leor rung out in his head, and he was forced to hide a smile as he lied.

"I can tell him how to defeat Leor, and all his tricks."

"The orcs will not fall to anyone, let alone him."

"He is powerful, more powerful than you know."

"More powerful than the orcs? Then have him come. Have him prove it."

Careful, he thought. This was his test. In this moment, he would either prove himself worthy of the god-emperor, or start the war that Leor had sent him to prevent. He could not afford even one mistake, nor could he hesitate.

"Leor doesn't fight just with men and iron. He will soar across the plains with fire and brimstone, burning the grasses and searing the earth behind him. You will fight in him fire and ash, in dust and storms. Your plains will become a wasteland, uninhabitable even if you win..

"He will come at you from the sides, and from behind; he knows your strength, and he won't risk himself in a forward attack. If you take me to Torug, I can tell you his every trick, so you can prepare."

To speak of Leor's powers is not betrayal. It is fair warning, he thought to himself, quoting the second tenet of the god-emperor. Sneaky and creative as his god-emperor could be, to speak of his power in half-truths and lies could only draw the lion's approval. Better, it might give the greenskins something to fear...

He waited, watching the War-Scarred's face. The tusks rose and fell as the warrior chewed over his words, and Bjorn forced his hands to be still. Training - Leor's training - stilled them. He could not afford to look nervous, now. Fear had to come from his words, not his bearing, or they'd dismiss him as nothing but a weakling.

Finally, the orc nodded.

"I will take you. Let Torug chew over your words, dwarf. He'll decide if you say anything worthwhile."

"I thank you for the opportunity."

As does Leor, he thought with a surge of jubilation. Tonight, his master would learn much.

He mounted his pony and followed his guide, the orcs still surrounding him and his men as they slipped into the long grass of the western plains.

The journey was long, but they finally reached the encampment just before sunset. Without being led here, Bjorn knew it would have gone unfound. The buildings were dug into the ground below the level of the grass around them, and were made of the same earth and grass and reeds that covered the plains. The orcs moved among them with ease and a strange, powerful grace. Not like the slender creatures elsewhere in the empire, but with the power of someone that knew nothing dared obstruct them.

And perhaps everything listened, because he saw no signs of their passing in the grass. Bjorn adjusted his opinion of the orcs. Knowing that these warriors could come at him with no sign of their passing only made them that much more dangerous. Leor would need to be told

The War-Scarred - a younger orc named Yerud - commanded that the rest of the dwarfs stay outside the village, and Bjorn passed the order along. In exchange, the loincloth-clad greenskin led him through the village.

He expected to be taken to the center of the settlement, but instead he was guided to what he assumed was the north side. There lay a longhouse, with only the roof sticking out of the ground and a small, covered hole to show it was even there. As he walked underground, he almost felt a sense of coming home. Almost; it was spoiled by Yerud speaking instead of his master.

"Chief Torug and Warchief Xurl make their homes here. You will not speak of this place to anyone."

"I understand. There is a need to protect your leaders."

"Leaders? Ha! They are the heart. They command, and we fight."

And you are leading me right to it, he thought. The dwarf knew he shouldn't be surprised at Leor's brilliance, but the lion's information seemed nearly omniscient. Torug had always been a key chieftain - and had been a huge part of the ceasefire talks - but he hadn't known that the tribe considered him a 'heart' piece.

They went down almost twenty feet by his reckoning before coming to a halt. Leather covered a doorway in the earth, and he realized this must be the entrance. He glanced at Yerud for direction, and received nothing. Another test.

My lord and master, what do I do?

There was no response from the depths of his mind, and he knew there was no hypnotic information for him this time. He would have to do as he was trained; Leor did not accept dullards, and he would not disappoint the lion now. The dwarf thought to himself. What would the orcs respect? What would give them a moment's pause?

To have a dwarf act like them.

Pushing forward before he could lose his nerve, Bjorn shoved past the leather flap. The minor details were absorbed quickly; a long, curving wall leading up to an arched ceiling, and a fireplace at the far end that lit up a long table were marked in his head. Sconces for torchlights and light sources at his side were immediately memorized. That done, he paid attention to the important part: the tribal leaders at the head of the table..

Chief Torug, he immediately recognized. The proud greenskin had waged war on the dwarves more than any other chieftain before the ceasefire, and with greater success. Torug the Terror, they called him, and he earned it with his bloody axes cutting through hundreds of his foes. He might have been admirable for his strength and stature, were it not for his mouth; Bjorn remembered the many speeches of orc superiority that had flowed from the chieftain's lips, and according to his master, it hadn't stopped.

Beside the burly chieftain was the other leader Leor had told him about. Warchief Xurl, second in command and possibly the more reasonable orc, from all accounts. The dwarf noted the scars of battle on the younger - but no less muscular - greenskin's chest, as well as the weapons at the warchief's side.

There is more than a little trust between them, he realized. If that trust could be manipulated, then he would have an opening to exploit. Another note for his memory.

He took it all in during a single blink, and the orcs were still turning his way as he slammed his hand against his chest.

"I come from the mountains and I will speak with you."

Speak with authority and with power, and all will at least consider you. It wasn't a tenet, but it was a saying that he agreed with. The orcs paused, and he seized his moment.

"I am Bjorn of the great mountains, recently swallowed by the lion Leor. You want to listen to me, if you don't want to share the same fate."

"I speak to no dwarf!"

Bjorn didn't move as Torug slammed his fist on the table, splintering it with the blow. The great green warrior pulled himself around the table, striding quickly towards him, but the dwarf made himself meet the chieftain's glare. Any fear would weaken his argument, but even he was intimidated by the Terror.

"We are orcs! There is no threat from the lion. Who let you in? I'll see them destroyed!"

"I let myself in. I'm here to save you."

"HA! Save us? The day a dwarf saves an orc is the day all orcs are conquered."

"You believe yourselves better than dwarves? You're right."

A few weeks ago, he would never have been able to say that. The wonders of Leor's power allowed many things previously impossible, however, and it worked. The orc stopped his tirade, staring as the dwarf shook his head.

"You are stronger. Faster. Better. You've always been better. But you don't know this lion. You call yourself the Terror, great Torug, but he is the Horror."

"Ha! Pieces of your kingdom might have fallen, but we stand strong! He won't -"

"Chief."

The warchief's interruption silenced the chief. Bjorn hid his astonishment, but only just. The chief had shouted down the greatest of the dwarven kings, had fought and killed creatures on his own that would normally take an army. That anyone could silence him...

I must bend Xurl first.

"What is it, warchief?"

"The dwarf says that the mountains have fallen. Not one tribe, not one clan...the mountains."

It was just what he hoped for. The dwarf watched the chief puzzle it out. No fear - he didn't expect any, so he wasn't disappointed - but understanding. As much as the dwarves and orcs hated each other, they had a grudging respect for each other. Torug would know even Leor would have struggled against dwarven fortifications, having tested them himself during border skirmishes. Yet, somehow, the lion had still won..

He didn't let the orc think on it for long, however. Perhaps a few seconds, then he spoke again.

"Yes, the mountains have fallen. Leor has pulled my people into an alliance with him, and he speaks with the authority of the mountain king. There is nothing that we could do to stop him."

"Yet you stand here now, dwarf."

"He is the ruler of the mountain; I am not within the mountain."

One lie alone will not be forgiven. The denouncement of me. Yet another tenet. He could lie as needed, so long as he didn't flat out say he didn't follow Leor. But he had always been clever, and Leor's training had only enhanced it. Whatever he had to say, he would make the orcs listen. He must.

Torug finally snorted. The chieftain turned, slamming a hand on the table, shaking his head. Xurl, on the other hand, only seemed to watch, and Bjorn reminded himself to keep aware of the quieter orc. The chieftain spoke up.

"So you find a loophole. Why don't the rest of your people do the same?"

"Because they are scared. Leor's power is immense, and he wishes to wield it over everyone. He has tricks aplenty, things that you would never guess before facing him. He will bring them to the plains, and he will burn you out, chase you down, if you do not join him."

"The orcs are strong enough to fight anything."

"From the front, yes. We know."

"From anywhere!"

"From things you may not see? From things that ride the wind? From witchcraft?"

All lies, but the orcs were superstitious people as well as great warriors. Let them wonder. Let the planted words spread. Let it go.

As the chief growled, Bjorn chanced a glance at the warchief. Xurl looked deep in thought, and he wondered. What was he thinking of? Of the defense of his people, or of what Leor might bring to bear against them? Was he scared, confident?

It was too hard to tell. He didn't know the warchief the way he knew Torug. Too many nuances that he didn't know yet.

"I can tell you of his tactics. I know his tricks, and can help you prepare for -"

"Why do you betray your king?"

A good question from the warchief. Another reminder that Xurl was smarter than Torug. He shrugged.

"I can't betray a king I don't have."

"You said that he's in an alliance with your people. What do you get? A dwarf coming to the orcs could be killed. You can't expect that we'd go to the mountain and help you."

"No. I don't. But I do expect you to listen. What I know can save your lives. You can use me. So use me."

Torug looked over his shoulder at him, and Bjorn met his stare. He knew he'd made no convincing arguments as of yet, but at the same time, he'd done enough to keep them from suspecting him. His only hope was that the Terror would expect a dwarf to give up his king, despite dwarven reputations for loyalty.

His hope was fulfilled as the chieftain smirked

"Trust a dwarf to find a way out of his agreement. Fine...I will consider it. But not today. There are other raids to plan."

"I will accept this. Where might I sleep?"

"Hah! You expect me to house you?"

"I expect something for my information."

"Hmmph."

"It is a small enough price, chieftain. The dwarf bears information that we can use, whether it's what he would offer or not."

"...True. House him in one of the empty huts. The tallest of them."

An offer to any raiders that might come. He would see me gone, if he could do it by someone else's hand.

It didn't matter. He would be safe enough; his men were outside, and would warn him of any raiders. Bjorn bowed his head, and turned to leave. Orders were shouted to Yerud, and he was led away. He kept his face calm, but his mind was racing.

I must report to the god-emperor. I need advice.

The hut was small but comfortable enough. The earth was soft but smooth, and there was a bedroll already laid out for him. A dug-out hole in the center would serve as a fire pit, and he immediately started piling reeds into it, much to the confusion of his guide.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm preparing something for tonight."

"It's hot. You don't need a fire."

"I wish one for meditation."

"Ugh...one of those."

He put Yerud's disgust out of his mind. If the orc was bothered, let him; it was late already, and if he waited much longer, then he would have worse problems than an annoyed orc. The thought of missing his chance to speak with his god-emperor sent shivers down his spine.

As Bjorn laid out the last of the reeds, setting it up in a small pile and triangle, the orc left. With the War-Scarred orc gone, he lit the fire, sat down, and closed his eyes.

The training of Leor involved many things, but the first and most essential - past obedience - was calming one's mind. The dwarf had many distractions from his time in the village, but with some effort, he forced the images of muscular, tall, green, nearly naked men out of his head. It was not proper to lust for others when he should have his mind solely on his god-emperor.

A small smile crossed his face as he thought of his training. How the great Leor had selected many dwarves to serve him personally, to spread his word about the lion's godhood.

He had been one of these dwarves, selected from the masses to work closely with the god-emperor. The training was...vague...in his mind. The techniques remained, of course - they could not be forgotten - but the methods were hidden. Leor said that they were secret and couldn't be shared,, and Bjorn accepted that.

The idea that he might betray his lord and master was impossible, of course. It was the one thing that he could not even conceive of doing. Yet, with so many doing everything they could to bring Leor down...

He works with caution. He will not allow anyone close that might bring harm to him and his, Bjorn knew, though the thought was something that felt...unnatural. But it was truth, regardless of its source.

He took another deep breath, and then another as the fire grew. Its light shot up around the hut, filling the room with warmth as he thought back to the training again. His body tingled as the past came to him.

_On my knees, the great god-emperor's shaft within my mouth. Suckling along his masculine length, giving him my devotion...

Leaning back, allowing the great one to loom over me, his cock sliding along my own before dropping lower, between my legs and spreading me open...

The wonderful feeling of his eyes staring into mine, opening my mind as his shaft opens my body..._

Bjorn shivered, his body throbbing from the memories. They always restored him, always enhanced his need to serve the great lion. He needed to see the power of Leor spread across the world. Everyone needed to know the bliss that came through service to...Him.

Slowly, he pulled his focus back on the fire, though his body's excitement remained, throbbing and pressing against the front of his leather pants. He forced himself to ignore it and watched the fire rise.

It was time.

"As priest of Leor, I call to my master. As priest of Leor, I ask for an audience. I, Bjorn, so speak to the god-emperor."

His words were received with a crackle and blaze from the pit, one unnaturally large for the fire that he had created. The dwarf settled back, kneeling as he bowed his head. Seconds passed, then a minute...And then the voice was there.

_I hear you, Bjorn. I can only imagine that you have reached Torug's encampment. Where is it?

Within the bounds of the great plains, perhaps no more than twenty miles from the border.

Wonderfully done, my priest._

The praise went right to his head, leaving him smiling and throbbing at the same time. The dwarf bowed his head a little deeper, taking a deep breath as he maintained the connection.

_I have spoken with Torug and his warchief, Xurl. Both of them are...aware of your conquest of the mountain.

They are, are they?

Someone must have gotten the information out. I do not know who.

Leave that to me. The leak will be plugged, now that I know there is one. Has it spread further?

No further than the chieftains and the War-Scarred. I don't think they want their warriors to know that someone has conquered the mountain besides them.

Yes, yes, I see..._

He sensed disappointment, and felt his stomach plummet. The dwarf searched for some other piece of information that could complete the puzzle for his master, but nothing came to him. No, he would have to move on. He took another deep breath as his energy faded. He had to make this quick, or he would lose the chance to speak for another day, if not longer.

_Torug is as foolish as you expected. He only allows me to stay because of his warchief, but I doubt I can persuade Xurl of any real threat from you. Yet...I feel he could be saved, brought to you, if I could just get him -

You will speak with Xurl alone, if you can.

How? The Terror looms over everything.

Torug has always had a weak mind. Perhaps he knows this, subconsciously; he refuses to meet with me personally, and has always sent others with stronger minds in his stead. It would not take much to present him with the fear that he would be dominated in the discussion.

And then, I turn Xurl during my time with him.

Yes. Ensure the warchief is on your side, and then you will be clear to make a move for the chieftain.

Should I ensnare any of the War-Scarred or his bodyguards? Numbers may -

No. We may need to use force on Torug, but only him. The fewer we involve before the end, the better. Torug must not become a rallying point for the other orcs. Save any further conversion until after.

I understand, my lord.

See that you succeed, Bjorn. I entrust this to you._

And with that, the connection faded. The dwarf gasped for breath, his beard rising and falling and his pants tented forward after the intense connection with his god-emperor. Temptation rose, but he squelched it. Such pleasure would be better spent...tomorrow.

With a groan and continued pants of need, he carried himself over to the bedroll and laid down. The results of being connected with his god persisted through the night and into his dreams.

Morning came, and with it came Yerud's ugly face. Bjorn glared through one eye as the greenskin let in the morning light.

"Mmph...what is it?"

"The chief and warchief want to talk."

"So early?"

"It's over an hour past sunrise."

"...so early?"

"Get on your feet, dwarf."

Two meaty hands yanked him out of his bedroll, leaving him standing in only his loincloth. Bjorn groaned as he struggled to find his balance, only managing it after almost tripping in the fire twice..

His clothes, however, were another matter. The simple but well-made leathers were nowhere to be seen, and when he looked at the orc in wordless inquisition, the War-Scarred only shrugged.

"Things disappear in the night, if a guest doesn't pay attention."

In other words, someone had taken them. Perhaps as a prank, though he wouldn't have been surprised if it was meant to keep him off-balance, to humiliate him and silence him. It wouldn't work. He had tricks of his own to counter it.

Bjorn brushed himself off, flicking bits of dirt out of his chest hair before doing the same to his legs. Perhaps it wasn't the most dignified way to present himself, but he was hardly worse off than anyone else. If the orcs were fine with loincloths, he could feel the same.

When no more dust flew from his beard and body hair, he nodded.

"Take me to them."

There were fewer laughs than he expected as they crossed the encampment, and soon, he had almost forgotten about being so naked. Part of it was the training, admittedly, but he wasn't even trying that hard. Perhaps it was just the fact that the mind adjusted to things quickly. Whatever the reason, he was glad; there was important work to be done, in the name of Leor.

Into the darkness he delved, his only companion a comment about his bare ass on the way down. He ignored it, instead forcing his attention to the task at hand. If he was to ensnare Xurl, then he needed all of his skills at their best. Both his skills as a negotiator, and the...persuasive...skills of a priest.

Once more, he passed through the leather flap, and once more he was welcomed with a stare and a glare from Xurl and Torug respectively. This time, Torug sat on his throne with Xurl at his side, the two big orcs looking down at him despite the fact that they'd summoned him.

I need an ally, and soon, he thought as he walked around the table. Their stare reminded him of his state of dress, but oddly, he didn't feel any embarrassment. And why should he? Leor found his body marvelous to look upon; there was nothing to be ashamed of in the lion's service.

He came to a halt in front of the throne and bowed at the waist.

"You have summoned me."

"Yes, yes...do that again."

Bjorn indulged the chief, bowing once more. This time, he went a bit lower, and was rewarded with the deep chuckle of petty vengeance. As he came back up, he glanced at Torug's eyes, measuring as Leor had trained him to measure.

Power and strength aplenty, but not of the mind, he thought as he saw those raging, golden eyes. Good. Lacking his tools, he had limited options, but there was something that might work.

"I am thankful for your invitation today. Since my self-banishment from the mountain, few have listened to me. I've been silenced and pushed away so often that I felt like a nomadic hermit."

Words. Simple words, but with the proper focus and intonation, they would slip deep into the listener's mind. Not sufficient to control someone, of course, but he wasn't moving for control; he wanted to make the chief uneasy, nervous.... And it was working, as Torug's expression shifted, just a hint of that cockiness fading. Bjorn smiled, turning to the warchief.

"Thank you for allowing me to talk yesterday. I have much information, as you assumed. All I need is a chance to share it."

"Then share it with me!"

Nervous. Torug was very nervous, indeed, and the dwarf was happy to feed that as he turned back to the chieftain.

"I will give you everything I have, so long as I have the proper attention. After all, this is a matter of war and needs to be taken seriously. It should be the chief concern for you."

He could see the muscle twitches as the chieftain thought, and was grateful that this warrior didn't bother trying to hide his reactions. His training - bless the god-emperor - let him read every flicker as easily as words on a page. The dwarf bowed once more, smiling.

"If I might suggest, Chief, Warchief, it might be effective for me to talk to Xurl first. He can filter out what is useful and what isn't. He can advise you, alone, later."

That should do it. If it didn't...

He saw the flicker of annoyance on the chieftain's face, followed by a glance to the warchief. Bjorn immediately dropped his gaze to the floor. His work was done; if he'd failed...well, he'd find out in a second.

"Chief, perhaps we should -"

"Handle this, Xurl."

"...Chief?"

"This dwarf is...right. It's a priority, and you should handle it. There are other matters that I need to deal with."

And you are afraid, Bjorn thought, unable to ignore the tone in the orc's voice. Without question, Torug, the man who had faced down dragons and entire armies of dwarves...was afraid.

His god-emperor had been right. Leor had known, somehow, that the Terror was weak enough to flee a situation that left him vulnerable. It had saved the chieftain, but at the cost of leaving the warchief vulnerable. Perfect.

Bjorn resisted the urge to watch Torug scuttle out of the room, and finally turned his attention to Xurl. He pulled at his loincloth, settling it against him as he sat on the ground by the table.

"Shall we get comfortable and talk this through?"

"I suppose we might as well. Whatever you have to tell me won't change anything. Whether Leor burns our plains or not, we will still eventually win. Orcs will fight; we won't stop, and we won't be talked down."

No, no, I doubt that you will, he thought with a mental shake of his head. He had to remember the warchief was different. Torug drew his confidence from believing that orcs were the strongest and that nobody could hold a candle to them. With Xurl, the confidence came less from bravado and more from experience, of knowing the power of orcs.

The warchief was right, of course. Orcs were the finest footmen in the world, able to take down most cavalry units and more than sufficient at storming castles and fortifications. His own people had been hard-pressed to keep them out, and everyone knew that dwarves built the best fortresses in the world.

That confidence would be hard to erode...but what if he built it up instead?

He pulled his legs around so that he was kneeling on them, almost like a courtly supplicant. It was something more dwarven than orcish, admittedly, but the indication should be the same. Xurl would be smart enough to pick up on it, he was sure.

As the orc sat down across from him, he looked the warchief in the eyes. There was no rage there, no power of anger that threatened to overwhelm reason. Instead, there were questions, curiosities, and...and a calm strength, something not that dissimilar to his master.

Leor would like Xurl. Leor would like him very much.

Imagining the orc bending over and giving service to the god-emperor as all subjects back home begged to do, he felt his shaft throbbing again. He squirmed, shifting his loincloth around to keep his cock hidden beneath the table as he spoke.

"Again, thank you for talking to me. There's been too many times -"

"Dwarf. We both know how fast Leor works. I don't care about the flowery speeches; just get to the point. If you've got information, I want it now, not after a hundred thanks."

That...was a problem. Brevity did not lend itself to powerful effects, and he needed that to get around Xurl's intelligence. Worse, warnings and threats wouldn't boost confidence, which was what he needed.

Be smart. You are trained for this. What can you do?

A thought. Not much of one, but maybe...

"There is a way to do this faster. A technique that some of the dwarven officers are taught, but I can use it here."

"And what is this?"

"A small state of open-mindedness."

"...Explain, dwarf."

"My people have learned how to store information through hypnosis. All I need to do is put you in a small trance, and I can give the information much faster than I can explain it, and you'll remember it with just a single word. It's how my people remember battle plans and strategies on all levels."

"Hmmph. I gave your people the credit of discipline."

"I'm afraid it's just this trick."

A partial truth, at least. Leor had trained him and the other priests to do this, and they'd trained the army. It formed an intricate web of hypnotic commands and shared information, which could be accessed instantly with the right word. Every officer, every soldier, every priest knew them, instinctively, and they would use it to spread Leor's rule to every corner of the earth.

He realized that the silence was stretching on. The dwarf heard the orc's tapping fingers, and knew he hadn't made his case. He racked his brain for more.

"I give you my word, you have nothing to worry about. You won't fall asleep; you'll know everything that's going on, and it'll be your choice how deep you go. I can't force you into anything."

"You swear on this?"

"I swear on whatever you like."

"Swear by your soul."

That is simple enough. I no longer have one; Leor holds it in trust.

The dwarf bowed his head and nodded, making the oath, and the orc warchief slowly nodded.

"What do you need?"

"A coin will do."

A few minutes later, Bjorn sat on the table with the warchief kneeling in front of him. Besides using Torug's throne, it was the only way that they could get around the height differential, and he wasn't about to try sitting on that when the chief could walk back in.

The fact that Xurl was willing to try this, despite the indignity, spoke volumes to the dwarf. More than ever, he needed to snare the warchief for Leor; such a good asset couldn't be ignored. Running a string around the coin, the dwarf tapped it, and set it swaying side to side.

"All you have to do is keep staring straight ahead. The coin is nothing more than a target, a simple thing to watch as it passes back and forth. A simple thing to keep watch on, like a creature stumbling through the plains. Like a clumsy dwarf, something that you can follow without any effort.

"Yet, you are an orc. You are powerful. You are strong. You are mighty. You are the greatest warrior that the world has ever seen. You can't give it just a token effort. You must put everything into it. You must see every detail as it passes, tracking it perfectly. You must put every ounce of your focus into this, as an orc does with everything.

"Yes, that's it. Perfection, utter perfection. I see your focus, I see that intensity in your eyes, just as you can see in the coin. Your reflection, staring back at you, so powerful and intense. Yes, yes, look at how well you are doing this. You are an expert already, and you are hardly trying."

Knowing he could easily overdo the flattery, Bjorn paused, letting the coin continue its sway. He studied Xurl's face, seeing the muscles tightening as the orc's eyes flicked back and forth, following the coin as instructed. As any good warrior would, he knew how to follow orders...yes, he was very good at this.

The dwarf organized his thoughts quickly. If he worded this wrong, he would fail. No matter how deep the orc went, he would only take on a command by his own choice. Lacking the skills of the god-emperor and the back-up to force a decision, he needed to persuade the warchief to accept this willingly. Carefully, carefully...

"You are proving orcish superiority here and now. Look at the power of your mind, at how quick you learn. The things you can learn in trance would make the orcs even more powerful. You can pass it on to so many, but you need more. Take yourself deeper...open your mind for me, just a little more."

"Opening my mind...this is..."

"You know how to do it. You're already pushing yourself so far, taking yourself so deep with my words. Just a little further wouldn't hurt. You are so strong, so powerful. Let me see the power of the orcs. Show me your strength, open yourself more. You can always stop; you are strong enough for that."

"Fine...just...just a little..."

The orc's eyes were flickering. Not with awareness, but with relaxation. Bjorn knew the signs. As the mind opened up, its contents escaped. More and more focus was forced on the coin, and less and less on the specific nature of his words. He grinned, then forced it down. If he lost focus, he wouldn't get it back; the warchief wasn't deep enough to maintain it on his own yet. More; just a bit more.

"You are showing the great power of your people, Xurl. Every flick of the coin back and forth, every time you follow it, you show the intensity of orcs. You give me great honor, and I thank you for it."

"You...are welcome..."

Speech becoming ever more labored. A good sign. A very good sign.

"Yes. Going deeper and deeper, opening up your mind...it's letting the information in now. You can feel it. Sensing, hearing, understanding things. It's so much easier with your mind open...You can afford to open it further...letting in more and more of what I say...hearing more and more information."

"I haven't heard...anything..."

"Yes, you have...you just don't know it yet. Open your mind...open your mind, and listen...such intensity...such focus....such perfection."

"...Perfect...tion..."

"Yes, perfection...showing so much...Giving so much to me...Open your mind...and let me in...Let in the words...of Leor."

He couldn't delay it any longer; much more empty praise, and the warchief would have woken up from boredom. The dwarf braced himself, half-expecting the warchief to attack, to see his mission end in failure...but nothing happened. Instead, the orc continued to stare ahead, his ears open and his mind blank. He had succeeded.

There was no need to hold back now. He slowly pushed his loincloth to the side, allowing his short but thick shaft to continue rising. The tip bumped the orc's porcine nose, and he groaned as he kept talking.

"Yes, the words of Leor...the great god-emperor of the world. He reaches out his arms and he takes what he wishes, and those taken revel in it. The power of the lion is the power of a god, beyond words and beyond reproach. There is nothing that one can say against him, nothing that one can take back from him.

"Your power, your strength is what defines orc-kind, and Leor loves you for it. Leor loves you for your strength, your focus, your sheer intensity. Why fight that which loves you? Why fight that which would care for you?"

"Fight...fighting is...what orcs...do..."

"But why fight..."

He scooted forward a bit, his toes feeling around for something. Yes, there. The tip of a loincloth rising up. The flattery had done more than open the orc's mind.

"Why fight...when you can be loved?"

Bjorn clenched his toes, and Xurl gasped for him. The dwarf grinned as he pulled the leather loincloth off to the side, feeling the warm flesh beneath it, feeling it throb and ooze beneath his toes. Everything was so hard and warm, just like the rest of the orc's body. He slid his toes down the side of the orc's cock as the coin kept spinning, swaying.

"Let the words of Leor into your mind. He wishes nothing but submission from you, and in exchange he gives protection, love, and strength. Your strength compliments his, and his does the same for yours. There is no other with the strength of orcs but Leor, and there is no other with the strength of Leor but the orcs. He will give the clans the chance to prove their strength against the entire world.

"Give in, Xurl. Give in and feel the power and love of my god-emperor. Give in, and feel what Leor has to offer."

"What...what does...he offer?"

"Strength. Manhood."

His cock was so hard. He stilled the coin, and pulled the orc closer. It was harder than he expected, considering how relaxed the warchief looked, but he managed it, dragging the orc down to his crotch. The tusks combed through his pubic hair, and he soon felt the thick, rubbery lips of the warchief against his cock, brushing against him in a lewd kiss.

"Manhood that can be served...that will grant you service in turn...All servants under Leor will serve each other and serve him."

"Serve...Leor..."

"And serve...me."

He pulled the orc down, and the warmth of that mouth nearly pushed him over the edge. It had been too long since he'd enjoyed this, and he panted as he leaned his head back, pulling the bald green head up and down his cock. There was no struggle; Xurl's mind had been fully emptied, and the words of Leor would be echoing around inside of it, bringing the word of the great lion to the orc.

Up and down, up and down he pulled the warchief's head. He felt the orc's drool running down his cock and dripping off of his balls. Groaning, he bit his lip to keep from making too much noise, but it was a struggle.

Words. He had to keep the words flowing.

"The power of Leor fills you today. You have submitted, and you haven't lost your strength. Instead...instead, you are showing it...strength in submission. Strength for love. Strength for your king."

He panted, starting to hunch his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into the orc's mouth, filling it with his shaft. He couldn't reach his throat - no dwarf might have - but he tried, humping harder and faster to try and reach it, to fill it before he came.

Bjorn rubbed the top of the orc's head, feeling him start to swallow. The suction was almost enough, just about enough to take him over.

"Yes...serve...Leor..."

He pulled out, his cock dripping with orc spit as he stroked it.

"Say it...say it..."

"I serve...Leor..."

Devotion. Pure, true devotion. Bjorn threw his head back in a moan, and came, painting that green face white. His mind went blank, save for the image of his god-emperor's maned head, glowing in his mind.

And then, minutes later, it faded, leaving him fulfilled and Xurl most definitely not. The temptation to serve the new acolyte of the lion came to him, but he pushed it away.

He'd need Xurl's desire for the next part of the plan.

The wait for Torug was a long and hard one, for various reasons. Minutes ticked by, one after another, and with the need to hold back and be ready, the distractions that Xurl offered him were more and more difficult to resist.

It didn't help that the warchief had become a true worshiper. The words spilled from his lips constantly, whispers and mutters of his new god. Like now.

"Leor is the true god-emperor...I will serve him like no one ever has. For him, I will do anything...anything he might wish."

"Obey and help me, Xurl. We will serve him today."

"Service is happiness. Service is good."

"All for Leor."

The dwarf smiled, squeezing the orc's hand as they continued waiting, trying a number of meditations to try and empty his mind of distractions. It was...difficult, to say the least, now that he and the warchief were both naked. His own cock continued to throb, and with the temptation of that massive green cock beside him...

No. No, he had to focus. Torug would be hard to take down, and if they were caught indulging...

Still, they both had to fight the temptations. After pushing Xurl off of him for the third time, he finally heard the footsteps signaling Torug's return. The naked dwarf sat down behind the table, hiding his lack of clothing, and gestured for his orc to sit beside him. They were just barely in position before the flap opened and the chieftain stepped in, the big warrior stomping over with a frown on his face.

"So? Did he have any information?"

Xurl nodded.

"Quite a bit of information. Leor has become a bigger threat than we realized."

"But we can handle him."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe?! We're orcs! He's just a lion!"

"There are many things that can change, Chief."

"There's nothing to change! Orcs are the strongest in the world. We can handle anything!"

Except my lord and master, Bjorn thought as the chieftain ranted. He looked down, watching as those bare, green feet took several steps, each one pulling the chieftain further into the hall. A few more, and he'd show Torug the truth, just as he had told Xurl. Just a few more.

"You can't tell me that this dwarf had anything worth listening to. He's a pathetic little traitor to his own people. The fact that we're even letting him live -"

"He's more valuable than you know, Chief."

"...Why, Xurl?"

There. That was it. The sound of doubt. This was why he needed Xurl. More than as back-up, more than a secondary conquest, for this. The Terror would never have listened to a dwarf. He would only listen to an orc, and a trusted one at that.

As Xurl stood up and waved his chieftain closer, the dwarf watched with interest. The lack of loincloth drew no comment - perhaps the two of them were even closer than Bjorn thought - nor did the warchief's erection as he laid out a map for the chief.

"He's told me everything. From the positions of the troops to the numbers that Leor is putting against us. There are secret weapons among them, weapons that could destroy hundreds of orcs in a single use."

"Hundreds of orcs can die every day. The plains are a harsh place!"

"Hundreds in a second, my chief."

"...Second? Just..."

Yes, yes, build up his doubt, Xurl, he thought with a smile, the dwarf sliding along the table. The warchief had arranged something better than a coin for Torug's induction. This time, he wouldn't need to rely on persuasion alone, nor worry about the Terror breaking free before he could be hypnotized. Hidden among the food was a folded piece of metal, thin enough to be rolled, but utterly reflective with spectacular designs. For a weak mind like the chief's, it would be far better than the coin, indeed.

He looked over his shoulder. The naked warchief was still deep in discussion with the chieftain, but soon enough, he glanced away. As his ensnared orc looked up, the dwarf nodded, and set their plan in motion.

Xurl swung his hand behind Torug's head and slammed his face against the table. The impact stunned the bigger orc, but only for a moment. The dwarf shook his head as the fight began faster than he thought, running down the side of the table as the chieftain started to get the upper hand. He was just starting to straddle the warchief, his fist in the air, when Bjorn brought the rolled-up metal down on the back of the chief's head.

Torug went down, and Xurl leaped into action, pulling out some rope they'd prepared. Together, he and Xurl lashed the chieftain down, hands behind his back and legs spread, tied to the legs of the great table. It was over quickly, leaving the two of them panting, shaking their heads at how close it had been. Torug groaned as he lifted his head, and the great warrior snarled past his tusks.

"How dare you! You fucking...I'll kill you, dwarf. And you too, Xurl, you blood traitor! How could you do this?!"

"The power of Leor is great, Torug the Terror."

"So, you never meant to betray him at all."

"Not at all. I merely wished to save you...as I wish to save everyone."

Bjorn grunted as he pulled himself onto the table and straddled the chief. It was easy enough to push that loincloth off to the side, and he smiled as he saw the big tool between the orc's legs. He chuckled, his beard dragging across the orc's chest as he fondled that tool, pressing it against the back of his ass.

As the chieftain groaned beneath him, Xurl followed their earlier plan. The orc warchief walked forward until his thick green cock pressing between the chief's thighs. The sudden burst of terror and surprise on the big man's face only enticed the dwarf.

"Don't worry. You will enjoy this."

"I swear, if you dare to touch me -"

"You will be touched more than there, great Torug. By the end of this, you will accept the words and commands of the great Leor, just as your warchief has. Xurl is deep in the service of my god-emperor. Aren't you, Xurl?"

"The way of Leor is the way of the world. There is nothing better in life; Chief, we bring you the same wonder that the lion has given us."

"It's nothing but lies! The orcs will rule, and none will rule us!"

The dwarf shook his head; it was always a pity to see someone throw their chance away. But the glory of Leor must be spread; there was no stopping it, and Torug was key to the work.

Shaking his head, the dwarf slowly pushed himself back, feeling Torug's hardening meat sliding beneath his ass. The feeling of the thick cock parting his cheeks made him groan, reminding him of his training where he had been allowed to sit on the god-emperor's cock for an hour. The feeling of that thick shaft had imprinted itself on his mind for all eternity, and he wanted nothing more than to feel it again.

The orc's cock was a cheap substitute, but it was big enough to stretch him and leave him feeling full again. As he rocked back and forth, he felt the chief responding despite himself, getting thicker and harder with each rock and slide of his hips.

"You...damn...dwarf..."

"I am not here to damn you. I'm here to save you."

He rode slowly, pulling the orc's cock in and out of his hole with slow, precise strokes. Each one was sufficient to bring the dwarf close to orgasm, but he had better control than that. He would not allow himself to blow early.

Instead, he pulled the metal sheet up, unrolling it and holding it between him and Torug. In the low torchlight of the great hall, it flickered and shimmered. The light caught the orc's eyes immediately, and the chieftain's weak mind was drawn to the hypnotic light. Here, he could push harder than he could with Xurl. Here, he could taste the power that his master wielded over any mind that opposed him.

Up, down, up, down, up, down. With every move the light danced along the orc's face, like waves of firelight covering him. Torug's golden eyes glimmered with each one, and the dwarf smiled.

"That's it. Let yourself ride the waves of light. Let yourself fall deep into the power of my voice, into the power of my master. It's too hard to look away, the waves of light drawing you in, drawing you further and further down into the depths of your own mind."

"Damn...you...Stop...Stop moving..."

"I will not. Nor will you look away. Up and down, up and down, the light getting more powerful as it keeps washing over you, dragging you deeper, deeper into your head, deeper into your thoughts. Bit by bit, sliding away from you, the pleasure washing away your thoughts, the light drawing you deeper. You can feel it, can't you? Your mind slowing down, that powerful body of yours becoming more and more focused on your cock, more and more focused on the feelings that I'm giving you with my ass.

"That's it. I felt that twitch inside of me. You are giving in, slowly but surely. Drowning in the golden light. Drowning in the light of Leor. Don't struggle. You know you have lost. It is inevitable. Let it happen, let yourself drown in the light of my god-emperor. Let yourself fall deeper, and deeper, and deeper. It's so much easier down here, so much better to let yourself fall into the golden light."

Unlike Xurl, he had no reason to allow Torug to maintain himself. He was proud, but stupid. As soon as they had him declare for Leor and announce the god-emperor's superiority, he could step down as chief, and the warchief could take his place. Torug could fight without thoughts; he could be Leor's personal warrior, champion, thug. It was all he'd be good for, and all they needed, after this.

As the chieftain squirmed beneath him, the dwarf leaned forward, meeting those golden eyes. He forced Torug to stare at him.

"You cannot deny it, Torug. The power of the great Leor is already here. He sent me, and I have saved your warchief. Soon, I will save you."

"I won't...give in...to a weakling of a cat..."

"You will, Torug. And you will find the love and care that you need. The love from the great Leor for all his subjects. And that we all give him in return, in our desperate care of him."

Up, down, up, down, up, down. He could feel Xurl behind him, that thick green cock begging for a taste of the chieftain, but he didn't unleash it. Not yet. There was more to do, more to be implanted. He couldn't leave it like this, not when the chieftain was still quite potent. He kept up his stare with the chieftain, holding his eyes as he continued sliding his hips along that thick, drooling cock.

"Fall into the light...fall into the power of my king. The true king of the world has come, and your thoughts, your mind, are nothing before him. You already obeyed me once...obey me again, and fall."

Bit by bit, the patterns and commands were working. He could see it in the slow relaxation in the orc's face, feel it in the way that he was getting loose and limp everywhere but his cock. That thickness, that pleasurable rod inside of his ass, was getting harder and harder, and he smiled at an inspired idea.

"There's nothing left in your head. Only the power of my god, only the strength of my emperor. The golden power of the lion. It pulses and burns in you, taking you and molding you for its own. You can feel it in every part of you, from your head to your toes, pushing that hate away. That hate, that need to dominate, it's disappearing. Slowly, surely fading away, pushed where it can be eliminated."

He reached back, squeezing the orc's balls. It barely drew a grunt out of the panting chieftain, nothing more than a slight widening of the eyes before they fluttered nearly closed again.

"That's it...your hate, your fear, your need to be the strongest. It's all there, all waiting to be pushed away. The more I bounce, the more you focus on your cock. The more you focus on your cock, the more you need to focus on it. It's impossible to pull your attention away. It's impossible to think of anything but your throbbing, needy cock."

"Impossible...to think of..."

"Don't think. Just feel. Feel my ass riding you. Feel your hate bubbling in there. Feel that strength, that need to dominate throbbing and burning inside of your cock. There's nothing else there. Nothing else but that."

"Nothing..."

Such a weak mind...but such a strong body...

He looked over his shoulder, nodding at his converted warchief. Xurl undid the ropes on Torug's ankles, and slowly lifted the legs up until the big man's soles pointed towards the roof of the hall.

"Soon, you will be allowed to release. Soon, you will shoot away all the hate, all that need to dominate, and you will no longer feel it. Instead, you will be strong, understanding. You will see the light. You will be filled with the golden power of Leor, and know where you truly belong. Soon, soon."

He felt the orc's legs pressing against his back, and knew that Xurl was almost ready. He waited until he saw the soft gasp for breath, knowing that it meant that the other orc's cock was in position.

"That is the stand-in for my emperor. If he were here, he would take this himself...but you will see him in your mind. You see it now, don't you? Look up, great Torug, and see the lion that has bested you."

The orc chieftain did, and Bjorn envied Torug at that moment. The idea that he could make anyone else see his lord and master before them, but not himself, cut deeply. It almost made his cock go soft, but the throbbing green meat in his ass kept him up. Barely.

"See him before you...see him as he is taking his position, his cock throbbing for you, waiting to fill you and take away your pain. You will never be alone again. Leor is the greatest of us, the most powerful in the world, the one that will rule us all until the end of time. He will shoulder all of our burdens."

He leaned forward, dropping the metal. There was no need for it anymore. He slid forward until only the slick tip of that green cock was still inside of him. He looked down and asked the most important question in the world.

"Will you accept him?"

"..."

"Will you accept Leor?"

"Y..."

"Will you accept the god-emperor, the lion of the world, the emperor of all, as your master?"

"...Yes..."

"Say it, then."

"I...I accept...Leor..."

"Say that you obey him."

"I obey...Leor..."

"Then accept him, now."

The warchief slammed forward without warning, and Bjorn shoved himself back. The twin sensations forced the chieftain over the edge, and the dwarf moaned deep as he felt his ass getting filled with hot, plentiful cum. He panted, his own cock pushed to the very limit, throbbing and drooling on the orc's belly, but he held himself back. It was close...but he would hold himself until Leor allowed him release.

Of course, he was allowed to enjoy the filling feeling, and he did. He leaned back, letting that cock fill him to the brim and rubbing his stomach as he felt that lovely throbbing. Not since his time with Leor had he been filled like this, and even though this fell short of that, it still gave him some small satisfaction.

No longer needed, he dismounted the orc. Torug's eyes were glazed over, a sure sign that the commands were settling in, that the need to serve the lion was sinking into his soul. It would take time, but it would settle...forever. All Bjorn had to do was whisper the right words.

So he settled down at the chieftain's side, his beard tickling the orc's ear as he whispered the words that he needed, all while Xurl had his reward of the chieftain's ass.

Slowly, Torug started muttering, whispers at first, but getting stronger by the minute.

"Leor...Leor is all...

"I submit...

"Glory to the lion, the god and emperor of the world...Let me serve...let me serve in the golden light..."

Hours passed, and the dwarf's business still wasn't done. With the two heads of the clan captured and conditioned, the rest was assured, but he could leave no loose ends. With the 'permission' of the warchief, he was allowed to take Torug's bodyguards out of the village, and the warchief accompanied him for a brief demonstration of dwarven prowess.

The show, it turned out, was a demonstration of Leor's hypnotized battle knowledge. Bjorn called out two words, complete nonsense to everyone else, but it rang out as a trigger for every dwarf. The twenty elite orcs were subdued, pinned to the ground and staked out, and over the course of the next three hours conditioned to serve. The power of Leor must be embraced.

When they returned, the green behemoths were sent to their chieftain with stronger - and new - loyalties.

The mission was a success. By tomorrow, the tribe would be handed over to his master, and the orcs that resisted would be properly hypnotized and brought to love Leor as the rest of them did. It truly was only a matter of time, now.

He couldn't wait to tell his god-emperor the good news.

The dwarf returned to his hut as night fell, stripping off his clothes and building up his fire as before. Straddling it as he whispered the words of communion, he felt the fire burning beneath him, setting his balls to sweating and dripping, and he waited for the words of his god-emperor.

Soon, they came.

_From the sound of your thoughts, you have good news for me.

I do, my lord. Torug the Terror is tamed, as is his warchief. The pair of them are now nothing more than your eager servants, and I have arranged to have Torug step down after voicing his opinion of you.

And Xurl is ready to step in, to give his leadership to the tribe?_

Ready and more than willing, though both of them are looking forward to the time when they may meet you and be fulfilled properly. I have left them both with an ache that they will not be able to fill without your aid.

My Bjorn. You have done very, very well, and you have earned a reward for yourself. As I imagine that you already know, my priest.

The dwarf blushed, already looking forward to the touch of his lord and master. The fire seemed to soar upwards, dangerously close to his manhood, but the heat held no fear for him. Leor was with him, and whatever Leor chose would be pleasure incarnate.

Then take my blessing, my Bjorn. Take my blessing, and savor it.

He gasped as he felt something invisible slide between his ass cheeks, pushing deep inside of him in one smooth motion. This was what he had craved for so long, and it almost took him off of his feet. The dwarf tottered forward, his beard hanging down as he felt the lion's cock plunging deep inside of him, ploughing him and opening him up far beyond what Torug's cock had done.

_Yes, yes! Thank you, my emperor. Thank you!

Enjoy it, my priest. Enjoy my...blessing._

The word hit him hard, making the cock inside of him feel bigger, heavier, wider than ever. The dwarf rocked back and forth on tiptoe, his cock smacking against his belly, the heat of the fire running up him from below. His body glistened with sweat as he was heated up from without and within, the blessing taking him to new heights of pleasure.

In and out it went, and his cock throbbed and dripped, his balls feeling so pent up. He closed his eyes tighter, feeling the ache that always came with such denial of the outside world, but he wouldn't let anything intrude on this moment.

Leor...Leor...

He couldn't see him, not in the way that a trance would allow him, but he could imagine. The great lion, looming over him and smiling in that commanding way, showing every one of his teeth. The great emperor, taking command, showing why he was the one in charge, filling him to within a razor's edge of too much, giving him a reminder of the wonder of servitude.

"I am his priest, and he is my god...I am his priest, and he is my god."

The mantra ran through his head, leaving him panting and gasping as that throbbing feeling went deeper and deeper, almost punching into his guts. He rode it, savoring it, imagining the lion against his back even as he swore that he could smell the emperor upon him, over him.

It was all a memory from training, he knew, but he could dream.

Bjorn could feel every little detail of that leonine cock inside of him, feel it parting him, filling him, soaking him. His balls drew up, driving him crazy as he tried to prolong the pleasure. The image came to mind of a soft paw wrapping around his cock, jerking it, squeezing it, tugging it.

Release for me, my priest. Release, and be rewarded with my blessing.

Yet again the trigger word hit him, and he screamed as he came. Thick ropes of cum splattered his belly and the ground as he tottered forward, no longer straddling the flames. It was so powerful that he almost collapsed, barely catching himself on the wall. Dirt turned to mud underfoot, but he didn't care. All he felt, all he needed, was the image of Leor in his head, driving him to greater and greater heights of pleasure.

Even when it finally faded to nothing more than a drip, the dwarf continued to pant and smile. It was...amazing. He...He was a good priest...and Leor was proud of him.

I could not ask for anything more.

The End