Houseguests
A few friends of mine made me watch Legend of Neil recently. This is based partially and loosely on that
Finally finished! Enjoy!
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Human lands were not nearly as treacherous as orc after war broke out between the greater empires. The alliance between the elves, fey, and trolls was rocky at the best of times, but the combined forces of the goblinoids and the humans had reached a equilibrium that devastated the forest dwellers. More and more forest was lost to the stone-city races, and with that conquest more and more forest folk found themselves clapped in iron and carted away as slaves. Things had gotten particularly bad when Princess Evangaline had been kidnapped by a raiding party overseen by one of the orc's most ferocious warlords, and the Kingdom of Faerie's will was broken. To recover their princess they tried to pressure their allies to surrender with them.
The elves, though, were not keep on surrendering. Instead, they sent one of their most promising young rangers and infiltraitors, who had been a personal friend of the princess, out to rescue her. His name was Nathan, better known to the world as Prince Natherlewyn. And he was in trouble.
Nathan's leg was in too much pain to use well. The arrow sticking out of it didn't help things, either. And neither did the small pack of archers intent on killing or capturing him. Chest thudding with fear, Nathan ducks behind a tree throws his camoflauge cloak over himself, in the hopes of his pursuers passing him by. While so concealed, Nathan breaks off most of the arrow. If he took it all out, he would scream from the pain, and then possibly pass out. Even just snapping the shaft, he huffs out a few heavy breaths, and has to clamp a hand on his mouth to muffle them.
He could hear the archers drawing nearer. They were spread out to cover more ground, but close to one another enough that their absences would be noted. He readies his blowgun with a poisoned dart, and tenses at the sound of footprints. Thankfully, they pass him by without noting his hiding spot. He waits a while after their footsteps pass before slowly pulling away the enchanted cloak and even more slowly rising. His injured leg had gone stiff, but there wasn't much he could do about it yet. The archers might come back. Leaning heavily on the nearby trees, Nathan heads in a different direction. He saw more outcropping of rocks this way, and hoped to find a cave or somewhere to hide in.
There was a large boulder with a chunk missing that Nathan saw as sanctuary. Crawling inside, as that was basically all he could do to move around, he starts digging out his medical kit. Given the nature of his mission he needed to be independant. After dosing the area with a pain killer and cutting open his pants around the wound, he puts a piece of wood between his teeth and wedges the arrow out with a knife, crying out through the wooden slab. Without it, he would likely have damaged his teeth despite the pain reliever. By the time he had the arrow fully out, he was holding on to consciousness by a thread. Sheer force of will alone allows him to clean and wrap the wound before he passes out.
Nathan comes to hours later. The sun was on its way down, and he heard the sound of thich boots on the rocks. Cursing to himself, he struggles with his cloak, but can't get it to cover him before an orc rounds a corner and stares straight at Nathan. The orc was tall; a good foot taller than Nathan, and seemed to have as much muscle in one arm as Nathan did in his entire lean body. He was dressed more like Nathan than the archers who had been pursuing the elf, save for his expression was one much more of surprise than bloodthirst, and Nathan matched it with his own.
For a long second, neither of them moves. Nathan breaks it by scrambling for his blowgun. The orc starts running for Nathan as soon as the elf starts moving, and before the slightly sluggish elf, shaky from pain and still dazed from passing out, can bring any weapon to bear, the brutish orc slapped Nathan's wound and clamped his other hand on Nathan's neck.
The blow to his leg drives the air from Nathan's lungs with a yelp, and the hand on his neck kept him from refilling them. Weapons forgotten, Nathan's hands fly to the orc's hand to try in vane to pry them off. His lungs burned, and none of his struggling came to any great result. Practically unhindered, the orc pulls Nathan from the alcove with one hand and slams him in to the side of the rock. Nathan's good leg, and even his bad one, kick wildly, but no strike connects with any real effect, and in rsponse to them the Orc tightens his grip. Nathan's sight filled with darkness, and soon the darkness was all he knew.
Nathan awoke again from the feel of something warm and wet on his injury. There was a strange, gritty texture in his mouth he couldn't accound for, and though he ached and his neck was sore, he found he had no new injuries. And, aside for the partial weight of the orc on the leg, Nathan was not bound in any way. Still, he felt weak and his head hurt. "Where am I? Why didn't you kill me?" He asks weakly, putting his hand to his head.
"You sure ask lots'a of questions." The orc replies in a gravely voice, laughter hidden just under his words. "You're'n my home. My guest." He finally answers. Whatever salve he was rubbing in to Nathan's wound worked wonders; the area itched, but Nathan could feel the pain dissapate, until the leg feels fully recovered. And, impressively, manages to become the only part of Nathan that doesn't hurt. A quick glance revealed the wound as gone. "Yer stuff's there, but yeh should rest." The orc tells him, slowly rising off the leg and moving to the side of the bed, then sitting there.
Nathan looks, and finds the orc to be telling the truth. Across the room, he could see his belongings laid neatly on a table, each one set out as though catalogued. All that he remained on him was his clothing, including some of the goodies he kept hidden on his person. He had to hand it to him; the orc was good. "Why-why are you taking care of me? Who are you?" He asks, doubting the orc's hospitality. They were at war, after all. The orc just snorts at Nathan's doubt and places a large, comforting hand on the elf's shoulder.
"You c'n call me Bredar. I like elfs. All orcs do, some just don' realize. We like yer voices, yer hair...." The orc's thunb strokes Nathan's shoulder to try to reassure him, and the orc reaches for something under the bed. Nathan hears metal clink and starts to rise, but Bredar eases him back down. "Relax. Talk. Wha's yer name?" He asks. Nathan tries to push the orc's hand away, but Bredar remains adamant, and finally Nathan allows his weary body to lay flat.
"Nathan. Nathan Greenrite. Now may I please go? I need to be on my way." Nathan tells the orc, once again trying to get up, and once again being stopped. His heart thumps, wondering if his partial alias was comprimised. After all, while a simple ranger might be released, it was unlikely anyone would allow the prince to slip through their fingertips.
"You need rest, Natty. Rest." Bredar insists, finally pulling the metal object in to view and towards Nathan's hand. Before the elf can respond, a thick, iron manacle was clapped on his wrist. There was a leather padding on the inside to prevent chafing, and a chain that disappeared beneath the bed, but based on how little Nathan could pull his arm it wasn't terribly long, and it was well anchored.
"What are you doing!? Let me go!" Nathan hisses, punching at Bredar with his free hand. The orc catches it by the wrist and forces the whole arm down, then leans his face right over the captive elf's.
"Yeh need to rest." The orc repeats, then strokes the size of Nathan's cheek with a green, calloused fingertip. "So soft.... Elf soft...." He remarks, then leans down and forces his tongue in to Nathan's mouth. Suddenly, the ranger knew where the taste had awoken with came from. He tries to bite the thick, leathery muscle, but no matter how hard he chomps the Orc doesn't seem to notice. Nathan's teeth didn't seem to be able to mark the rough tongue, which instead dominates Nathan's mouth. Angry, frustrated sounds excape Nathan's mouth, and tears form in his eyes.
Finally releasing Nathan's mouth, the orc lays on top of him and reaches under the far side of the bed. In addition to difficulty breathing, Nathan found what breaths he could take under the orc's mass were laden with the smell of the orc's body. He smelled gruff and musk, thick enough he could almost taste it over the sticky taste of the orc's saliva. With the weight on his uppr body, Nathan couldn't even squirm, and he couldn't even come close to kicking well, so Bredar claps the second iron on Nathan's wrist with ease and leisure.
Shifting slightly until he sat on Nathan's thighs, immobilizing the elf's lower body completely, the orc looks down at his young prize. The elf, his chest bruised, began to shake with his building fear. To Nathan's absolute horror and disgust, as he looked back at the orc, he could see something in the front of the orc's leather trousers grow and tent out the material, with three distinct points.
"So soft. So sweet...." Bredar continues to remark, his rough hands caressing Nathan's chest and rolling up the elf's shirt. Nathan tries to wiggle away, but he was anchored in place by hands spread too far to even touch his body and legs which could not move at all.
"Don't touch me! Let me go!" He orders, shaking from side to side The orc curles his lips, making his tusks look bigger, and lets out a soft snarl. His hands grip the cloth of Nathan's shirt and pulls it roughly from side to side. The shirt shreds, and with each pull on it Nathan gets painfully shifted around, until at last the article is a pile of rags entirely removed from Nathan's body. The elf yelps with each pull, finally falling back on to what he would consider a shabby, makeshift bed.
"Yer mine. Yeh do what I says!" Bredar snarls to the bound, stunned elf. "Was bein' nice, but gonna punish yeh now. Gonna hurt yeh, soft little elf. Gonna make yeh cry. Ginna make yeh beg. Gonna make yeh bleed." A feral light fills the orc's eyes. Where they had been cordial and maybe even friendly before, now they were bloodthirsty. Each threat made Nathan's heart sink, and by the end of them he softly begs for mercy, until the orc backands him silent.
Shaking, the ef doesn't even make a move when the orc rises off of him and stands by the foot of the bed. He lays, fully stiff but for his shaking, with his head staring in the direction the orc sent it, as though somehow that might banish the orc and prevent further humiliation and pain. Tears he would have held back before now freely stremed down his face while the orc jerks off his boots and begins pulling off Nathan's pants. He hears the orc chuckle, and finally looks at his kidnapper again.
"Two? Yer so prissy yeh need two pairs of pants? Yeh don't need any 'nymore!" The orc sneers, grabbing the silken smallclothes and ripping them off. More's the pity, they remained intact, which meant their removal hurt even more. The elf watches at the orc puts his underthings to a large flat nose, and shakes with disgust when the orc takes a deep breath, eyes closed in bliss. With particular care, the orc sets the silvery silk article down and fixes Nathan with a hungry stare, then with painful slowness peels away his own clothing, tossing both articles beside Nathan's underwear. The orc's musculature was thick and solid enough that Nathan's looked effeminate by comparison. A washboard of chest, capped by a pair of pecs wider than Nathan's hands were long, extends a dozen sets of lumps down to a forest of thick, black pubic hair, below which.... Nathan's heart all but stopped, and a cold shiver ran down his spine.
Bredar had three dicks, each longer and thicker than an elf could get. The two on the sides were each a good ten inches long, the middle one closer to thirteen and thicker than its brothers. "Be good 'n yeh might walk again, soft elf." He tells the elf, grabbing his ankles and hoisting them up until Nathan's shoulders bore his weight, and feet pointed straight up. The elf would have loved to have fought, but Bredars warning kept him well behaved. He couldn't see much but Bredar's huge hands wrapped tight, but he could feel the orc leaning in, and tusks against his cheeks. The leathery tongue laps out, leaving mucus residue along the elf's valley. It comes again, and again, each time making Nathan's rear even more slimy and wet.
Getting a little more upright, the orc pulls apart his captive's legs, and begins to lick every patch of elf flesh he can reach. Mainly he focuses on Nathan's sack and hole, hungrily lapping at each and periodically poking his tongue it to the other. Worst than the lapping for Nathan, though, was every time Bredar moved, Nathan got poked in the back by three cockheads, and each left a long trail of warm liquid on his back, which slowly oozed down to his shoulders.
Bredar's face was one of bliss. He relished the sweet taste of Nathan's sweat, particularly the sweat in Nathan's crevice. His tusks left scratches, which he heard Nathan whimper about. The sounds fired Bredar on, and his tongue lapped up every last bit of sweat in and around the elf's virginal hole.
Letting Nathan's back touch the bed again, Bredar licks his tusks and presses his body between the elf's legs. The elf knew what was coming, but was also wise enough to obey the orc and not struggle. Still, he shivered and found his rear clenching on its own. Teary, pleading eyes gaze up at Bredar, who just chuckles and begins licking the tears away. Holding on to the elf's thighs, Bredar spreads them and puts his largest dick up against Nathan's tight, tensed hole.
The elf's silence finally breaks. There was now no part of his body, save his head, that he could move, and moving his head would result in injury on a tusk. But he had his voice. "No! Please, don't do it! Let me go!" He begs, his legs struggling as best they can. By way of reply to his pleading, Bredar tears in to Nathan. He drives his large spear in to the knot, driving sound and breath both from Nathan with a loud grunt. The elf's mouth opens in a silent scream, his eyes screwed shut. The burning and pounding within Nathan are given no chance to ease before his rapist pulls out and thrusts back in again, and again, and again, until Nathan couldn't even count the thrusts anymore.
Bredar had had lots of holes, but never before an elf male. Nathan was in the top five, ever. He was good and tight, his insides a crimson velvet or satin to the invading member. "Sweet, soft, beautiful elf!" He shouts out as he drills his fucker in to the defenseless elf. His side dicks dripped precum on Nathan's perfect cheeks while his huge dick filled up the elf and stetched him to capacity. Soft as their flesh was, elves proved resistant to tearing, as Nathan's posterior proved. It was a good match; elf rears could take a lot of punishment without tearing, and orcs were predetermined with lusts for elven flesh, and some had even evolved the ability to impregnate elven males. None of that was of consequence, however, when Bredar forced a fully swelled knot through Nathan's orifice.
Finally, Nathan's dry throat gave rise to a scream. It was music to Bredar, whose rough thrusting threatened to take the knot out every time and continued the sound. He matches the scream with a yell and pumps out enough seed in to Nathan's inside to make it swell for a moment, before the thick fluid gushed upstream. Nathan was panting hand and somehow still conscious, even after Bredar savagly pulls his still-hard dick out, knot and all. With a key from under the bed, Bredar unlocks the manacles and pulls Nathan to his feet. The elf was too weak to lift his arms or fight, and barely strong enough to stand, so it took no effort at all for Bredar to cuff Nathan's hands behind his back. Bredar pulls one hand on each of the elf's upper arms and holds him upright. Nathan's head falls forward. He hadn't even begun to think about what had just happened; right now all he cared about was that his pain was a lot less than it had been, and was easing to a dull throbbing. Sweat dripped off of him, and Bredar's thick, thick cum oozed like mud out of Nathan's abused hole.
"Boys! C'mere!" Bredar calls out, and Nathan's heart nearly stops. The six archers he had been fleeing from step in from the 'wall' Nathan had been facing, naked now, but hadn't been paying too much attantion to. With them, they had a similarly attired and bound fairy woman, though she had a gag in her mouth, a leash and collar around her neck, and cum caked all over her naked body and blood oozing out of her. Nathan wouldn't have recognized her, but he knew who she was instantly. They had no time for pleasantries, however; the archers with her leered at Nathan, and Bredar unceremoniously shoved him towards them. "Take 'im 'ere, but 'e's mine. Needs a little punishment, eh boys? Orthal, yeh shot 'im, yeh don' touch 'im no more. Shoulda' used a snare."
The archers caught Nathan while their master was speaking, though one of them scowls and starts stroking himself, then grabs Evangaline's leash and pulls her away. She didn't even struggle; there was no resistance with her whatsoever. Nathan's heart sank. The princess had resigned herself to be a sex pet. As five archers encircle Nathan, though, his worry was more for himself. None of them was as big as Bredar, and they were all limited to only one penis, all smaller than Bredar's mercilessly large one but there were FIVE of them, and they all wanted as bit a piece of him. They quickly converse in rough, gravely words Nathan didn't understand, licking their lips and tusks while they speak. Then, without warning, the one directly behind him wraps Nathan in a bearhug and lifts him off the ground. Two of his fellows grab feet and pull them apart until Nathan's legs were parallel with the ground and spread to to a side-split he was only just flexible enough to manage. The elf didn't even have the strength to struggle.
The remaining two take patches of Nathan's body and sample them; one fixated on a nipple with his tongue and teeth, abusing it until Nathan couldn't put it out of his mind. The other shared his master's interest in Nathan's hole, and ended up poking Nathan more roughly than Bredar had in his seeming pursuit to lap his master's cum out of Nathan's ass. The three holding him up were not about to miss out on tasting Nathan to their fellows; the one holding his torso tortures an ear with his teeth, while the ones holding Nathan's feet turn to licking his feet and sucking his toes. The elf whimpers, though mostly out of fear; despite being josled around by five orcs licking him like a lollipop, the only one causing him any pain was the one biting and pulling on his pink, tender nipple. Ear-guy was a little incomfortable, and the one whose rough tongue scoured Nathan's depths eased some of the pain Bredar had caused.
Just as Nathan was beinging to hope they weren't actually going to cause him pain, the one in front of him stands back up and grins, and presses in to Nathan's body. He musters the strength to try to struggle, and loses enough more of his pride to beg and plead, but Ass-Man brings his dick to the slobbery, dripping hole he had spent time on, and violates it with his dick. It didn't hurt nearly as much as his earlier rape, but Nathan finds himself crying out in pain. Ear-Man pushes Nathan in towards the one impaling him and follows in with his bulk. Nathan could feel him probing around his impaled hole with something thick and hard....
"No! NonoNONODON'T!" Nathan cries out, growing more desperate the harder Ear-Man pushes with his crotch. His whole body tenses, earning a pleased moan from Ass-Man. But Ear-Man was persistant, and soon the elvan prince screamed as a second dick slides in beside the first. His chest heaves heavy breaths while the orcs remain paused inside him, laughing and joking to each other in their gruff, harsh language. Somehow, not even the two dicks simultaniously spreading Nathan made him bleed, not did the constant biting and sucking of him tender nipple, even if it felt like the former should have been split open and the latter long since chewed off. It wasn't even a small comfort that Nipple couldn't gnaw at Nathan's chest while his two fellows began a poorly harmonized invasion of Nathan's rear. There was always motion, and it wasn't always even in the same direction. Sandwhiched between the two orcs, their tick, wiry body hair scratched against Nathan's smooth body with every move they made, and the thick musk of them would have made Nathan's eyes water if he wasn't on the verge of bawling his eyes out.
That was the worst; Nathan felt like they would shred him like egg-paper between their opposing motions. His pain, cries, and pleas fell on deaf ears, except for Bredar, who would periodically laugh at the elf prince's predicament. His ass was on fire around the rim, and within it he could feel his organs being roughly jostled. Each thrust shook through him with enough force to release some of Bredar's semen out. Ear's arms wrapped tightly around Nathan, limiting him from replacing the air forced out of him as cries. What breath Nathan did manage was heavy with sweaty musk belonging to the two brutes using him for their carnal urges.
The orcs grunt in their barbarian tongue to each other. Nathan was beyond caring what they were saying, though the one behind him had a stange urgency in his words. His thrusting became even more rough if such a thing was possible, then on one thrust pulled all the way out and fountained thick, goey cum all over Nathan's back. Some of the greyish-white cream reached the elf's hair, and Nipple laughed at the sight of it, and stepped behind Nathan. Dreading what was to follow, the elf felt a second wind coming on, which let him clamp down on Ass and try to prevent an additional invader, though Nipple didn't seem to have that as his goal. Leg and Foot moved at more urging from the temporarily halted Ass, and pulled Nathan horizontal, his face right by nipple's engorged dick and sack. The elf gasps in alarm, which Nipple uses to his advantage. A sweaty, grimy taste pervades Nathan's mouth, including a faint taste of blood and womanhood, but was far more thick with the taste of sweat., and a stale taste of Nathan had no description for but a horrid idea of what it might be.
Both organs suddenly came back to life together, with Nathan caught between them. He gagged on Nipple's sweaty dick, which soon coated the back of Nathan's neck with a fresher version of the stale-tasting substance, though it now was vinegary and salty, and somehow forced Nathan's throat to relax. The sweaty member filled Nathan's mouth painfully wide, too wide for him to even bite back down. It seemed to go all the way down the elf prince's throat before his nose was buried in the long, wirey pubes of the orc warrior's sweaty sack. Balls the sizes of apples slapped against Nathan's eyes. Nipple remains thrust in, cutting off Nathan's air, until the elf's struggling for air reached a wild high. Darkness and burning filled Nathan's head and lungs as surely as the smell of the unwashed male, and he struggles against both dicks remaining inside of him to no avail. He could not free himself of either, let along the hands holding him up or the manacles binding his hands behind his back.
The dick leaves his mouth as suddenly as it had first entered, the orcs apparently not inclined to let Nathan die so easily, allowing him one gasped breath before gripping the sides of Nathan's head and fucking in to it. It had begin to ooze a steady stream of precum, which left a streak on Nathan's face and soured his mouth. While the elvan prince choked and gagged on orcflesh, his captors slowly brought him to the ground and paused deep within him.
Though a sweaty sack hung on his face and dripped in Nathan's eyes, and his nostrils were full of the odor of orc crotch, he was glad for the respite. Powerful hands on the sides of his head kept him from understanding the gruff syllables the orcs spoke to each other. Hands roved his body, though their touch was almost welcome in substitute. At least, of course, until one finds Nathan's own member and begins to roughly stroke it. Through the dick in his mouth, Nathan could feel its owner laughing at the now-struggling elf's plight from the intense, unique agony of having his genitals manhandled.
With Nathan wiggling and struggling, the respite in his mouth comes to a close. Nathan finds the agony of air depravation somehow enough to steal his attention away from his other tortures. In and out, the dick hits back far enough to make his throat sore, and hammers in with every stroke. If the orc even felt the teeth against his leathery hide, he gave no indication of it. The hands on Nathan's ears suddenly pull his head up while the cock buries in deep, then pauses. The meat throbs, sending reverberations through Nathan's mouth before salty, sweaty fluid fills Nathan's mouth and pours down his through. The dick withdraws, sending a splash over Nathan's face while he tries to cough the thick guck out of his mouth....
He had no idea how long they'd used him. Well, he sort of did; in the brief respites they allowed him, Nathan noted the difference in light; it went fully dark at some point, and then had begun to be light again. Then, finally, the hunters were done with him. They fucked him so hard he sucked willingly, because every breath-blocking blowjob was one less dick going up his ass. His body was sore and so wracked with pain Nathan could hardly move on his own, and the cum caked on his skin was like swimming in smelly oatmeal. The elf couldn't even move when his hands were released, though strong hands gripped his wrists and pulled him up until he dangled.
"Meh 'unters're content now, elfie. They gonna nap 'n go split fairy bitch." Bredar tells Nathan smugly. The elf makes an effort to raise his head, and the orc let out a laugh. "Don' relax too soon, soft elfie. Gonna clean yeh and then we're gonna have s'm fun."
"P-please...no..." Nathan begs, but Bredar slings his cum-goey body over a shoulder and carries him off, a hand gropping Nathan's cheeks, and a finger sliding in Nathan's abused hole. Each step made the invading finger in the elf's body recall more of the brutal gangbang that still soiled it inside.
The destination was a natural pool off of a sparkling stream. Bredar steps in, carrying the weary elf in to the frigid water. Popping his finger out of Nathan's tightening hole, the orc unceremoniously drops the elf in to the sparking water. In that initial contact with the water, the cold air stunned the water from Nathan's lungs, leaving the elf trying to curl up to try to retain some heat without subjecting any more of his body to the icy water. Bredar, however, had other ideas. Unlike the elf, the orc didn't seem to notice the cold, and unceremoniously dunks the elf in to it.
"Ge' clean!" He bellows to the elf when Nathan comes up sputtering, then dunks Nathan again. The second time, Nathan came up coughing and wheezing.
"P-p-please; it's so c-c-ccold..." Nathan mumbles, shivering and shaking. Had he tears left to cry, the agony of cold would have drawn them out.
"I told yeh I'd make yeh beg. Now beg." Bredar remarks casually. Grabbing Nathan by the hair, he roughly scrubs the violated elf with a tattered square of roughly spun cloth. He worked over the elf's body with the efficiency of a scullery maid working at a pot; there was, as was becoming usual, no tenderness in the orc's hands. Five horny orc hunters, as it turned out, left a big mess.
The only remeadming pieces of the orc scrubbing him down were that Nathan felt much cleaner with the crusty remains of the sludgy cum gone from his skin, and that where Bredar touched him was spared the cold. The trade offs, of course, were that the rag scratched Nathan's skin unpleasantly and his captor and rapist's hand wandered freely over his body. Still, the elf realized that he was firmly in Bredar's power; the cold water and rag currently scrubbing cum off of Nathan's smooth taint and out of his perfect, lean ass crack were just shows of that. But begging felt like a surrender, despite having done so quite a bit already. Despite being humiliated and repeatedly violated, Nathan clung to what dignity he had left, though the icy water sapped his resolve.
"All r-r-right! J-just s-s-stop the c-c-cold...." Nathan finally begs, the larger part of his body numb save for the wracking throb of cold.
"Call me 'master.'" Bredar orders in e level, almost bored voice, still scrubbing mercilessly. Nathan hesitates, earning him a backhand hand enough for him to see stars and knocking him off his feet and sending him fully in to the cold. Bredar doesn't wait long before snapping a hand in the water after the elf and pulling him up by his hair. "Runnen outta patience, elf."
"A-all right, m-m-master." Nathan whimpers, rubbing where he had been struck with a shaking hand, the other busy trying to conserve his body heat.
"Good. Na' whatdoes mah lil' guest wanna do to repay 'is master?" Bredar asks, fully releasing Nathan and putting his hands on his hips. Nathan wasn't sure how to answer, but from the orc's posture, and prominant triple genitalia....
Feeling the last of his pride ebb away for want of warmth, Nathan drops his head. "A-anything, m-m-master."
"Vereh good." The orc replies smugly, lifting Nathan out of the cold water and stepping out of it himself. Nathan himself couldn't help but cling to the marvelously warm chest, even if it was covered with the thick, wiry hairs of an orc warrior who had violated and humiliated Nathan. The orc carries Nathan all the way back to his abode, setting him down on a pile of soft furs on the floor that hadn't been there before. Before Nathan can wonder about what other changes had occured in the dark, but blessedly warm cabin, Nathan gets a swat to the rear, then Bredar stands over him. "Start."
Nathan looks up but doesn't move, unsure of where to begin. The whole day had served to tell him what the orcs all wanted from him and what they would do to get it, but not what he should do to escape their wrath. Bredar makes an impatient sound, but for onc doesn't immedietly follow it up with some sort of physical punishment. The elf wracks his brain, trying to think of some way he could obey that would be least offensive to himself. Slowly, he rises, eying the orc's massive frame. Minor shifts in the orc's stance resulted in little muscle flinches which would have been wholly invisible on a less powerful build.
Hesitant hands set down on the orc's hips for support, and defeated Nathan lowers his lips to a nipple and begin to suckle it. There was a faint taste of sweat still remaining on the coin-sized patch of darkened, hardening skin, but it tasted dilute with the lingering droplets of formerly icy river water. The orc grunts impatiently. "Tha's na' goin in'ta you. Don' worry 'bout it now." Comes the stern warning, and powerful hands grab Nathan by the sides of his head and jerk him off the nipple, then force him on to his knees.
With a yelp, Nathans hands had flown to Bredar's wrists when he got jumbled about, finally coming to rest with his face right towards Bredar's groin. Three long, hard shafts stared Nathan in the face, and the massive body controlling was not coy about his wants. With a whimper, Nathan closes his eyes and opens his mouth, to be filled immedietly with salty flesh. Part from the quick bath the orc had recently had and part from the intense oral workout his hunters had given Nathen, the elf found he couldn't taste Bredar nearly as much as he could that first long dick.
It hurt his jaw to be opened as much as he had them; he didn't want to touch Bredar's beast with his tongue. It was to no avail, though; his jaws refused to stay splayed open. Nathan screws his eyes shut in disgust at the salty taste.
"Too long." Bredar complains flatly. "You be punished.." The orc reaches for Nathan's hair, but the elf dodges around his hand frantically.
"Wait, wait! It's a, uh.... Trust me! I'll make it good!" The elf pleads. To a slight grunt from the orc, Nathan hesitates, scrambling to think of what he might say to appease Bredar. "M-master! Please!"
The orc lets out an amused laugh and stops grabbing for Nathan, hands waiting on his hips for the elf to spring to action. With a nervous look, Nathan eases himself closer to Bredar's three monsters, kissing the head of each of them slowly. He had no idea how to pleasure another man like this; he was hardly chaste, but this wasn't the forest he hunted in, and normally he didn't watch women handle him. He glances up at the smug orc, trying to picture the last time someone had given him this sort of treatement.
Swallowing what remained of his pride, Nathan stuck out his tongue and ran it down the underside of the central beast, his hands cupping around the serpents on the side. Both sets of action seemed to please the orc, but Nathan was largely out of any other tricks, save the obvious. And if it saved the orc getting rough again, surely the taste was worth it....
Opening his mouth, Nathan slowly slides it around the largest dick with a whimper. The salty, grimy taste prevailed despite Bredar's recent bath, and it was almost strong enough to make Nate gag. Still, he forces himself up and down it, his jaws quickly getting sore and failing to keep the taste out, no matter how wide Nathan tried to open his mouth. He had no idea how it had fit in the other end, but gagging on it was a whole lot better than finding out.
On the sides, Nathan's hands pumped furiously. The elf had no other way to vent off his disgust and the pain in his body. He just had to get through this, this one time, then try to escape while the orc slept....
*************
The faeries' support in the war had largely been cut out, or at least carried out in secret. All it had taken was a single finger of their princess returned to them in a wooden box. And, in the past six months, Prince Natherlewyn had sent no sign or missive about his success or even his progress. The elves mourned their lost prince, but they and the trolls fought on.
Aethyre had an arrow nocked, and in his paranoid caution had a knife gripped in the two fingers not holding the bowstring back. There had been a few times his stealth training had been stretched to avoid detection.
He would have avoided the hut, but for one thing; a set of underclothes. Elven silk, of the highest quality, hanging to dry. So; the mighty prince had taken with some local human peasant, and shrugged his duties.
Aethyre crept up to the window and wagered a peak. There was a fire burning inside, but a skin covering the window prevented further sight. Still, the elf heard a woman moaning rhythmically. It was somewhat muffled by the covering of the window, but the sound of it infuriated Aethyre. So; his suspicions were confirmed. It was time to kill the bitch and drag the prince home for charges of desertion, then pick up where he left off.
Inching towards the door, Aethyre toed it open. Nothing in the immediate vicinity but walls or screens made of furs. Using the tip of the arrow to push the door open further, Aethyre quickly jumped in to the room in hopes of getting his bow useable sooner rather than later. His immediate view, however, surprised the elf. He wasn't sure what he was seeing at first, until the sight registered. And elven male, back to the entry, sitting on a large, orcish lap. No, not just sitting; the elf was bobbing up and down, his hands gripping a pair of large, fleshy appendeges stemming from precisely where he was sitting. His bruised body was bend over, mouth suckling the orc's nipple while the orc simple enjoyed.
Lack of immediate reaction on Aethyre's part, however, was all that an assailent from behind the door needed. The flat of an axe smashed against Aethyre's bow, shattering the arrow and knocking both bow and dagger from Aethyre's hands. The heavy weapon followed, freeing brutish hands to seize Aethyre in a massive bearhug.
Gravelly voices laughed to each other in a language Aethyre didn't speak while he struggled and kicked, neither doing any good. All they did was convince the orc to fall forward on to Aethyre, knocking the wind from his lungs and ceasing his struggling while trying to recover from the jarring experience. The orc's large bulk shifted off of Aethyre, but the only moving Aethyre could make himself do was curling in to fetal position and shifting from side to side, trying to regain breath. He didn't even realize what the orc was doing to him until his trousers and undergarments were slid halfway down his thights, but he couldn't even resist them being pulled fully off. All obvious weapons were stripped off as well in short order before the elf even mustered his arms to feebly push at the orc's in a pitiful attempt to fend him off. Even such a helpless attempt earned Aethyre a jarring backhand before the orc forced him on to his stomach and sat on his bare ass.
"No! No!" Aethyre protested, as the orc forced of the elf's hands against his back. Some roughspun cloth was pulled over the elf's hand while he struggled, then pulled tightly enough to force the elf's hand to ball in to a fist. He could feel something cold and hard through the cloth circle around his wrist and close tightly. Aethyre's eyes went wide, and in panic he redoubled his struggling, but the orc still had no trouble binding and cuffing Aethyre's other hand tightly and immobily to the first.
The orc rose, and dragged the bound, struggling elf up with him, then forces Aethyre to kneel eye-to-eye with one of the dicks the other elf was stroking, then bow further.
"Ah. 'Nother guest." The orc it belonged to rumbled out, sounding quite pleased. The orc who had captured Aethyre positioned himself behind the elf, and what he did next causted the elf not only to beg and struggle, but to scream.