Chapter Six #3
At the next pulse, Andre’s cock and balls swelled.
The rings were a mercy. With them blocking his ability to come, he didn’t have to focus on holding off his climax but could enjoy the delightful torment.
After that coach ride with the wooden plug jammed into him, it was something he was used to.
And if his denial pleased Farigoth, he welcomed it.
There was noise and movement in the rows of the amphitheater. A procession of young men dressed in flimsy loincloths spilled down the stairs, carrying pitchers of wine and trays of fruit and cut meats.
Farigoth caught Andre’s puzzled expression. “The social part of the ceremony has started.”
“The social part?”
“It’s a long night. The tribe will indulge themselves in food and drink and make use of their mates.”
Andre’s eyebrows pulled upward.
“Your frustration,” Farigoth continued, “will add entertainment.”
Some of the orcs brushed the offered refreshments aside and descended on their mates, tearing off their loincloths.
The men cried out in shocked pleasure as orcs, riled up by watching Andre, entered them without preamble.
Obscenely loud sounds of fucking echoed through the chamber.
Unmated orcs gorged themselves on the platters of food as they watched their comrades spill inside writhing men.
The debauchery didn’t help Andre’s situation.
His hole was molding itself around the plug, muscles instinctively pressing it against his most sensitive places.
His cock, thanks to the ring, had swollen beyond what he’d thought possible.
The exposed crown turned an angry red, arousal welling in his slit.
“So eager,” Farigoth growled and trailed his fingers over Andre’s straining erection.
His touch was oil to the fire of Andre’s desire, and he jerked, an inhuman sound, pained and pleasured, rising in his throat.
He couldn’t believe he was this excitable after having climaxed, but Farigoth worked miracles.
The orgasmic shouts of the men being ravished in the ranks added to his mounting lust.
“The night will be difficult if you’re this excited.” A lazy smile curved Farigoth’s lips. He resumed his caress, stroking a lone finger up and down Andre’s helpless length. Devilishly, he timed each slide across the tender frenulum on Andre’s underside to the slow pulse of the plug.
Andre’s cock flexed, stretching toward Farigoth, chasing his touch. Desire built, coiling tighter as Farigoth continued his leisurely assault.
It shouldn’t have been enough to bring Andre to completion, but his usual lack of response to stimulation had vanished. The urge to come slammed into him, his swollen balls pulsing.
He couldn’t contain it. The rings did. The one around his flexing cock constricted painfully, while the other pulled his sack away from his body, preventing climax.
Andre’s dick twitched desperately, his balls shuddered, his insides clenched, every part of him trying to unload but being denied.
It was as though the device had a mind of its own and was determined to keep him frustrated.
His impending climax ebbed away.
Panting, Andre fell back on the altar. A sheen of sweat covered his skin, which gleamed in the torchlight.
Unperturbed, Farigoth continued his teasing, caressing Andre’s aching cock in an unhurried rhythm.
Precum beaded on Andre’s tip, forming a thick, shiny pearl.
Every stroke added to it, fattening the drop of lust until it spilled over, running onto Farigoth’s finger.
It lubricated the slide, intensifying his touch.
Andre, forgetting his modesty, broke into a stream of filthy moans, affirming each brush across his frenulum with a wanton cry.
Farigoth was taking him to paradise. Drop after drop emerged only to dislodge and leak down his shaft, wetting Farigoth’s touch.
Between Farigoth’s teasing finger and the vibrating plug, Andre was barreling toward orgasm.
His insides tensed; his cock straightened.
Climax rushed onto him. He could almost taste the oncoming release, the sweet, involuntary clenching of his hole.
The rings denied him viciously, gripping his cock and balls, suffocating his orgasm.
It went on like that. Time and again, Farigoth brought him to the brink only for the rings to yank release out of his reach. It was cruel, and it was glorious.
Andre lost all sense of time. Over and over he came within an inch of orgasm, but the merciless toy granted him no relief.
He had no idea how late it was when Gael, flanked by his orcs, appeared at the bottom of the chamber and handed Farigoth a waterskin.
Farigoth slipped a hand under Andre’s neck. He helped him up and supported his head while feeding him deliciously cool water. It was a boon on Andre’s parched throat.
“Drink,” Farigoth rumbled, eyes glued to Andre’s weeping cock. “You must sate your thirst; you’re losing so much fluid.”
Andre swallowed greedily, emptying the waterskin. Farigoth sent Gael to get more.
The plug had elongated and widened considerably. It pressed into his prostate, pushing the precum from his gland. By now, it was past the size of Andre’s wooden plug. How much larger was it going to get?
When asked, Farigoth gave no indication that it’d stop any time soon. He teased Andre, pinching his nipples, chuckling when he arched.
The pulse between Andre’s legs was driving him out of his mind, each lustful throb beating him toward the edge, the rings never allowing him to tumble over.
Farigoth lay a hand on Andre’s cock and balls, engulfing them with heat.
His fingers brushed Andre’s taint and hole, sending shivers through him.
He touched the toy, and the pulsations sped up, the plug vibrating against Andre’s gland.
Warmth spread across his chest. Nobody had ever made him feel as good as Farigoth did. It made Andre want to worship him.
Breathless groans rushed out of him, wordlessly praising Farigoth and the steady hum ravishing his hole.
As the intensity increased, so did the strain on Andre’s insides.
The plug was growing, cramming itself tightly into his confines, pressing against his inner walls, driving them apart. Andre loved the fullness.
The edge of discomfort snuck up on him.
It wasn’t intolerable, but an uneasy, overfull sensation settled in him. The plug was stretching every part of him until there was no more room for growth. Except grow it did.
Andre hissed as the plug widened further. His breath came in sharp bursts.
“We’ve reached your limit,” Farigoth said. “Now we will go beyond it.”
“Beyond it?”
Farigoth patted his hip. “Yes, my precious human. I can see the plug has dilated you nicely, but it is not enough. You could fit an ordinary orc. You cannot fit me.”
Andre shuddered. The pressure on his prostate was constant and exquisite, the vibrations taking him higher and higher. “Is it going to hurt?”
“No, my dear. My scent lulls your body into a sense of safety. You won’t feel pain in my presence. Besides, I’ve slicked the plug with my essence—it’ll protect you. That delicate inner skin of yours is safe, no matter how much stress the plug puts on it. An orc takes care of his mate.”
Something in Andre expanded.
“This is not the most difficult part of your journey,” Farigoth added. “The plug will test your obedience in ways you’ve never been tested.”
“I want to be good.”
“And you will be. You’re going to be so good for me.”
Farigoth pressed his fingers to the toy, and the vibrations accelerated once more, shaking Andre.
Every pulsation thundered through his prostate, pleasure slamming into him in a staccato. Andre quaked under the ceaseless assault. He squirmed, chains rattling as he tried to get away from the agonizing bliss, tried to press into it. He couldn’t think. His body was Farigoth’s.
Dark need churned. Had his hole not been stretched so wide, his inner muscles would’ve clenched in ecstasy.
“You’re mine,” Farigoth rumbled.
“Fuck me.” The words came out before Andre realized what he’d said. Pre-orgasmic bliss thrummed through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to be taken and brought to climax, his hole milking Farigoth for his release.
“You want to be fucked?” Farigoth growled.
“Yes,” Andre sighed. “Oh God, yes. Please, fuck me. Please.” He didn’t know what he was saying anymore.
On the edges of his mind, the thought that they were not alone, that an entire horde of orcs was watching, intruded.
Andre pushed it aside. It didn’t matter.
All that did was the mounting tension in his loins, and the irresistible urge to— “Please let me come.”
A rough grunt was his only answer.
Farigoth reached between his legs, bringing the murderous vibrations to a stop. Andre sighed with both relief and disappointment. It had felt devastatingly good.
With a squelch, the plug withdrew by several inches.
It slammed back inside, the bump smacking into Andre’s prostate. A rapturous shout flew out of him.
The plug pulled out, then tunneled back in. Andre seized with ecstasy. The toy was enormous, and it was fucking him. He could’ve cried with bliss.
“Thank you,” he moaned, delirious.
The plug took him in slow thrusts, each one driving him closer to completion. God, nothing had ever felt this amazing. Farigoth was owning him by proxy, and it made him lose his mind.
The plug grew thicker and heavier, taking him apart.
“I can see it move inside you,” Farigoth mumbled, staring at Andre’s belly.
Andre had trouble focusing his sight, but Farigoth was right: each time the plug drove in, Andre’s stomach distended, the silhouette of the toy visible. It looked obscene.
Farigoth’s finger trailed the outline. “I can’t wait for this to be me.”