Chapter Six #5
Farigoth gave a shove, forcing himself deeper. “And I love your hole. It’s so… tight.” The last word was drenched in ecstasy. Andre’s heart soared.
Farigoth fed him another inch of his colossal girth, and Andre struggled to keep loose enough while preventing climax. The pressure on his gland was perfect, Farigoth forcing fluid from it with every thrust, precum dripping down Andre’s cock.
Farigoth invaded him, triumphing over tightness with every forward push. Andre, despite how stretched he was, narrowed, welcoming him. He grunted when Farigoth met resistance halfway in, on the edge of pain.
“Relax, my sweet mate,” Farigoth hummed. “Breathe.”
Andre did, allowing Farigoth’s scent to entrance him. It calmed his body, assuring it that everything was all right, that Farigoth only wanted the best for him. As though something deep inside him had been pacified, Andre’s tense muscles slackened, and Farigoth thrust into the opening.
Andre wailed as he dragged along his prostate, the friction sending waves of delight through him. His insides shifted to create space for Farigoth’s girth.
Jaw set against the onslaught of ecstasy, Andre locked his trembling muscles, forestalling his climax.
With a rock of his hips, Farigoth rushed inside, seating his length in Andre. Andre cried out. He was full. Completely full. It was everything he’d wanted.
Farigoth clasped his waist, big hands enclosing him. Andre was claimed. Owned.
He gazed up at Farigoth as his body went rigid. His hole flushed with heat, tightening. The rings gripped him, but with Farigoth buried deep inside him, there was no holding back.
Farigoth growled. “Come on my cock.”
A pleasured shriek flew from Andre’s lips as the orgasm tore into him. He clenched Farigoth’s dick, its massive girth satisfying a need that had never been met. His balls shuddered in their confines, the rings unable to restrain him. He jerked, and cum splattered onto his chest.
Farigoth’s face contorted. He threw his head back and roared as a hot spout flooded Andre. Farigoth grunted. He emptied into him, filling him up with his seed, snarling and groaning throughout.
Andre’s channel heated and undulated. In rapturous convulsions, he soaked up Farigoth’s cum. Gratitude filled him. He was finally serving Farigoth in the way a man was meant to serve his orc.
He came again, moaning like a whore. Every squeeze and release was an act of worship, praising Farigoth for the girthy resistance he provided.
His orgasm triggered a second wave from Farigoth. He creamed his channel, Andre absorbing every drop, happy little cries breaking out of him as he contracted.
Farigoth wasn’t done with him. His grip on Andre’s waist tightened. He used him like a toy, dragging him back and forth across the smooth altar as he fucked into him.
“Ravage me,” Andre moaned.
Farigoth smirked and sped up, pulling Andre off his cock until only his fat tip remained, then slamming him back on.
“Yes!” Andre’s shout echoed through the chamber. The orcs snarled, many no doubt wishing for mates of their own. Restlessness swept through the ranks. Andre was too far gone to care. All that mattered was Farigoth fucking him with abandon, taking what was his.
Farigoth grunted, nostrils flaring, eyes boring into Andre’s. “MINE!”
His rhythm turned brutal, and he plowed into him, giving him no choice but to whimper and groan, his body but a tool of Farigoth’s pleasure.
Farigoth manhandled him like a doll, exerting his power. Andre loved every moment of it, couldn’t believe it when another round of release announced itself in the straining of his pelvic floor, muscles gripping Farigoth. Impaled on that battering ram, climaxing was easy.
He soared as his hole clamped down, embracing Farigoth. Andre climaxed, shooting white ropes onto his front, convulsing in ecstasy. He came hard, his release drawing out as Farigoth followed him over the edge, filling him up, spraying every inch of his hole.
With a final spurt, Andre sagged, depleted.
“My precious human,” Farigoth groaned, lovingly thrusting one last time, pushing his cum deeper.
He dragged a hand through the mess Andre had made on his stomach and raised it into the air, presenting the evidence of Andre’s pleasure to the horde, wetness glistening. “The Jewel of Vale has been mated.”
Howls of approval swept through the ranks.
The orcs sniffed the air to get a whiff of Andre’s most intimate scent, roaring and beating their chests when they did.
The horde grew restless. Farigoth hissed, and they quieted, but there was an unease.
The orcs wouldn’t be content with shows of their chief and comrades ravishing their mates.
They craved men of their own to claim and breed.
Hopefully, Lord Aranin would deliver the promised ten thousand soon.
For Andre, Farigoth taking him for the tribe to see had gone better than expected.
Pleasure had overwhelmed him, and for long stretches, the watching orcs had faded from his thoughts.
Now that he was descending from his high, his mental faculties returned.
The orcs’ heated stares, knowing they had seen Farigoth claim him, aroused him.
He felt no shame. In the lands of the orcs, no one would look down on him for what had happened.
Andre had done what was expected of him, the orcs loving every minute of his public surrender.
Farigoth pulled out with a wet sound, leaving his hole gaping. The orcs cooed, and Andre blushed.
Farigoth petted his cheek. “I know showing your pleasure to the tribe was not easy for you, but you did well. You’re a joy.”
Warmth filled Andre, and he looked at Farigoth with a new feeling budding in his chest. “I’m glad they saw me submit,” he said quietly, his words meant for Farigoth alone, “and you assert your ownership. There will be no doubt in their minds as to whom I belong to.”
Smugness pulled at Farigoth’s lips. Idly, he drew a fingertip along Andre’s dilated rim. It hadn’t retracted much after the thorough stretch. Renewed need flared in Andre’s loins. “I could already go again.”
Farigoth dragged his fingers up Andre’s taint.
“Yes. Your craving for my seed has set in. This is normal after the first mating. We must wait one day and one night before I can take you again. It will give you time to hunger for my seed. Once you have experienced the deprivation of going without and know how much your body needs me, I can mate you again. In the meantime…” Farigoth traced the rings curled around Andre’s cock and balls.
They were already swelling again, desire pulsing deep in his loins.
“I like seeing you trapped in those. I will not take them off. From now on, you will wear them.” Heat rushed into Andre’s groin.
“An orc’s mate should always be hard and aching.
And when I take you, your abandon will add to my prestige. ”
Farigoth manipulated the rings, and Andre started when something big and blunt pushed against his swollen rim. “You’ve grown the plug again.”
“Yes. It will keep you stretched. When the time comes to mate you again, I will slide in with ease.”
Andre throbbed. He wanted this so much, wanted to be perfect for Farigoth, ready to be taken at a moment’s notice. “You’re going to keep me filled?” It was the sweetest promise.
“Always. Your needy hole must be ready for me.”
Gratitude overcame Andre. He was going to be stuffed at all times. It was his idea of heaven, and he moaned when Farigoth exerted pressure. He pushed out, allowing the toy to breach his hole, the filthy sounds he produced growing in volume as it slid deeper and inflated, filling him.
Farigoth removed the shackles and put their loincloths back in place, Andre going limp and pliable when he picked him up and carried him out of the chamber.
Outside the temple, the morning sun was casting its warm, amber light onto the ancient streets. Andre rested his head on Farigoth’s chest. After an eventful night without sleep, he was close to passing out from exhaustion.
It barely registered when Farigoth took him into one of the palatial buildings of white stone and classical pillars. The slap of his bare feet on the tiled floor echoed through the deserted corridors.
They arrived in a monumental chamber that contained a gargantuan bed of carved marble. Farigoth deposited him on it, Andre moaning at the unexpected softness of the silk sheets and the comfort of the mattress. He’d anticipated far more rustic accommodations.
He stretched like a cat, the silk flowing around his skin like water. This wasn’t the bedchamber of an orc, chief or not. “You had the room readied for me.” It was furnished to meet the most refined human tastes.
“Yes. It will be our marital chamber.”
Fatigued, Andre’s eyelids dropped to half-mast, and he regarded Farigoth from underneath his lashes. “Join me.”
He didn’t move.
“Farigoth?”
“I cannot mate you again before tomorrow morning.”
“I know, but we need sleep. The bed is big enough for both of us.” It was certainly big enough for ten of Andre, who felt a little lost on the giant mattress.
Farigoth shook his head. “I must not share a bed with you until the time comes. We need to practice restraint.”
Andre’s gaze dropped to Farigoth’s loincloth. Like his own, it was tented. Was Farigoth worried they’d give in to their cravings?
“I will leave you now. Do not worry, nobody will enter this chamber. You are safe here. No one would dare to touch a chief’s mate, especially after he so publicly gave himself. But I will post guards in front of the doors for your peace of mind.”
Andre was salivating over Farigoth’s body. He yearned to put his hands on those chiseled muscles and his mouth on those juicy pecs. His cock wept a drop of precum into the silk of his loincloth.
Farigoth chuckled and placed a hand between Andre’s wantonly spread legs. “Perhaps you’ll sleep better with this.” The plug fell into a slow pulse. “It will remind you of me.”
Andre moaned helplessly.
“Touch yourself if you like. You will not be able to come. Your body knows your release belongs to me. When the sun has set and risen again, I will return to you, and I am going to train you on the art of climaxing on command.”
“On command?”
“Yes. It is part of your duties.”
Andre clenched the gently throbbing plug. “I’m eager to learn.”
“I know.”
Farigoth turned to leave, and despite himself, Andre whispered, “Don’t go.”
But his words must’ve been too quiet for Farigoth to hear, for he was out the door in a heartbeat. Andre sighed, his eyes falling closed. He already missed Farigoth. The languid beat between his legs lulled him to sleep, his dreams full of Farigoth plundering him.