When you reach the doorway he’s right where you expect him to be, at the bench press machine looking way too good to handle. Your knees go weak at the sight of him and you have to lean against the door just to keep upright.

His large muscles ripple under the weight he’s pressing and saliva pools in your mouth, freaking drooling for your sexy hunk of a boyfriend. He grunts softly each time he lifts the weight and it does something to your insides. Making you hot and tingly all over, arousal gushing out of your pussy and soaking your panties.

You watch him work through his sets, your body growing hotter with each new machine he uses. You know he knows you’re there. And you know that he’s making all his work outs look even sexier because he’s trying to get you all hot and bothered. You hate how much it’s working. You’re practically itching to jump his bones.

It’s useless to try and fight it. The more he works out the more his light green skin glistens with sweat. You imagine yourself falling to your knees to lap it up, to kiss down his dark happy trail, and inhale deeply at that scent that’s specifically his and his alone. Fuck, you wanna devour him and he knows it.

He’s purposefully taunting you, egging you on, wanting to make a mess of you before he even gets his hands on your burning needy skin. You may be growing hazy with lust but you don’t miss the sly glances he keeps throwing your way or that stupidly smug smirk he’s been sporting since he was curling those weights. It shouldn’t make you hornier than you already are but it is.

Just as you think your pussy is throbbing so bad you’re about to cum untouched, he finally turns toward you with a raised brow and a classic ‘come hither’ look.

“Come over here and help me with these hip thrusts, pretty,” he says and you know it’s not a question. It’s a demand. Letting you know he’s been wanting you just as badly as you want him.

Walking closer to him in the gym you can see just how true that is. The thick outline of his cock pushing against the fabric of his sweats and just begging to be released. Even seeing it twitch once you finally reach him.

“I said c’mere,” he growls, claws gripping at your plush waist and dragging you against his sweaty stomach with a light smack.

The tension between the two of you is boiling as he swoops down and captures your lips in a ravenous kiss. You both groan as your lips meet in a sloppy needy dance, stumbling back until he’s lying down on the mat covered floor with you straddling his waist.

You press against him as hard as you can, hips already rocking, needing to grind against any part of him you can. He moans into the kiss, tongue dipping into your mouth just to get another taste of you. Claws run over your skin, making you shiver with anticipation as they dip lower and lower. Slowly pushing off all your clothes as they go.

“Look at you, humping me like a bitch in heat,” your bf rasps against your lips, pushing off your panties with a single claw and leaving your delicious curves open to him.

You gasp as your dripping folds are exposed to the cool air. He pushes you back down on top of him, his hands guiding you, rolling his abs all over your clit and causing your head to spin. He’s just so much bigger than you that he can easily jerk you around like his own personal fuck doll. Your toes curl at how damn good it feels and your jaw drops in a silent moan.

“Don’t act like you didn’t do this on purpose,” you accuse.

He chuckles, watching you get wrecked before he’s had a chance to really touch you. You don’t even realize when his hands drift off of you, too caught up in the pleasure rolling through your clit. He makes quick work of skillfully pulling his sweats down just enough to release his cock. It springs out of its confines, hitting your back with a fat smack.

“I can’t help it that you’re such a fuckin’ slut for me…” he purrs and you prove him right as you start grinding your ass along his length.

But it seems like it’s just enough to snap him into action. A feral glint passes over his eyes and his hands are on you in the next second. He pushes his massive pulsing tip through your folds, letting your slick coat his entire monster cock till he’s dripping with you.

He can’t seem to look away from it. Mesmerized by the image of your arousal soaking him. He doesn’t even care he just seems to want more and more of you. Low groans leaving him every time you flutter around his twitching head and make a bigger mess.

“God, you’re so wet f’me. So needy for my cock, you should be ashamed,” he scolds playfully, his smirk widening at your gasp.

You know you should actually scold him and you totally plan on it to. Mouth gaping at him like you’re really trying. But he just doesn’t give you the chance. On the next roll of his hips he catches his tip against your entrance, silencing you instantly.

After one more gloating chuckle your bf pushes you down and you go sinking onto his cock, letting out a pretty mewl as he stretches you to your limits. His cock splitting you open till you can’t even think. You’re a puddle by the time he bottoms out, your core squeezing him so tight like you never want him to leave.

“Baby— nngh— yes. Your pussy is being so good, sucking my cock in like she’s missed it. Show me how much, ride me hard,” he demands again and you’re in no state of mind to refuse.

The two of you work in total sync, starting at a frantic pace as you ride his cock like it’s been days since you’ve last got a taste instead of the hours it’s been. Meanwhile your boyfriend stays true to his workout, his hips thrusting out and plunging into your depths.

Your bf is entranced by the sight of you, completely lost in your pleasure. Head rolling back, your fucking perfect tits jiggling with the force of each thrust. His eyes trail down to where your bodies meet and his cock instantly jolts at the obscene way your fat cunt stretches around his giant cock. It’s a miracle you’re able to take him.

As your sweet pussy throbs and flutters around his girth he groans, his claws tightening around the soft rolls of your hips. His hips then move on their own, picking up pace and ramming his hard pulsing dick as deep inside your core as he can go, swirling you around his length and rearranging your guts.

Your loud shrieks of pleasure fuel him to fuck up into even harder, barely giving you a moment to adjust to each new sensation. You try and lift up to take a moment to breathe but he growls and slams you back down on his shaft, making you scream.

“Ah ah ah, don’t run from my cock. You’ve been droolin’ for it so be the good slut I know you are and take it.”

His hips are a blur as they pound into your messy cunt. Obscene noises fill the room with every snap of his hips, the loud squelch of your bodies meeting only sends you closer to your peak. It only takes one brush of his finger over your clit and your orgasm crashes into you.

Your bf groans at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock and suddenly he’s shooting spurt after spurt of hot cum straight into your needy womb. Grinding his length as deep inside you he works you through it till you both sag on the mats in total exhaustion.

His hands caress your back, smirking as aftershocks wrack through your spent form. He grabs handfuls of you, loving how you fill out his big hands and he drags you closer to him.

“What a workout, huh?” He asks with a big sigh, feeling very pleased with himself for getting you so fucked out.

The first time he saw you was three months ago, on a street he liked to frequently get his blades sharpened. You were wrapped in pale silk, standing out among the rough crowd you didnt belong there, but you kept coming back to the armourers stall, to the weapon merchants, always lingering just long enough for him to notice. He noticed everything.

Then the yearly games began.

Every week you were in the noble seats, high above the blood soaked sand, hands folded in your lap, eyes wide and unblinking. You never cheered like the others. You just watched. Watched the way he moved, the way his axe sang through the air, the way he roared when he won. He started fighting for those eyes. Every swing, every kill, every drop of blood spilled was a message Look at me. See me. Remember me.

He learned your habits. You always wore soft colours that made your skin glow. You always left before the final fight ended, slipping away like a dream at dawn. He hated that part. He started ending fights faster just to catch one last glimpse of you leaving.

He asked around for any information about you. A soft human with delicate features, untouched, curious about the arena but too shy to speak to anyone. A virgin prize, some whispered. Untouched. Waiting. He waited too. Week after week, victory after victory, stacking bodies at his feet and gold in his purse, all so the arena master would owe him one perfect prize when the time was right. 

Tonight was the time. He saw you the moment he stepped into the sand. Same seat. Same wide curious eyes. Same pretty mouth parted in awe when he crushed his opponents skull. When the fight master asked what he wanted there was only one answer.

“Name your prize champion!” The fight masters voice boomed

The roar still echoed in the arena when Gorvaks blood coated finger pointed straight at you.

“That one,” he snarled. “Mine.”

Ten thousand voices exploded. You stood frozen in the noble seats, silk robes suddenly too thin, heart battering against bone. Before you could stand, before you could even breathe you felt arms grabbing onto you, dragging you towards the victor of this years games. As you stood infront of the towering orc you had to pretend the smell of the iron from the blood staining his green skin didnt bother you in fear of what he might do yet the thought of just what exactly would he do if you did show fear made you aroused just a tiny bit. One massive hand closed around your wrist and pulled. You stumbled after him down the dark tunnels, heart hammering and silk tearing on the rough stone. You opened your mouth to protest, but no sound came. He never once slowed. 

The chamber door slammed shut behind you as he pushed you inside. Once inside you only had a few moments to look around the room as gorvak walked to put his weapons away, Gorvaks chamber seemed to be carved from the same dark stone as the arena tunnels, but the space feels more like a den than a room. The floor is almost entirely covered in thick, overlapping furs a black wolf, white bear, and one massive spotted pelt from some beast you dont recognize. They are soft and smell faintly of smoke, pine, and him and that makes you hotter all of a sudden, blaming the already lit fireplace by a wall for the increase in temperature. Weapons line the walls a massive double headed axe, several shorter throwing axes, and a few other weapons all within arms reach. Their edges catch the firelight like hungry smiles.

In the far corner you spot a sunken stone tub wide enough for an orc and whoever he chooses to share it with, fed by a bronze pipe that drips constantly, keeping the water steaming even when no one tends it. 

The sound of something dropping snapped you out of the silent judgment of his room you turned to face him and gasp, Gorvak had dropped his leather covering and was standing with his cock out heavy and dark, flushed with victory, a bead of clear fluid already pearling at the slit. Your feet seemingly rooted to the ground as he took a few wide strides in your direction, your eyes wide and your palms sweaty in fear of what he was planning to do only for him to walk past you as he stepped into the tub, sank down with a hiss, and fixed you with burning golden eyes. 

“Draw it hotter,” he commanded. “Then come here. A wife washes the blood off her husband before he breeds her.” 

You stayed rooted in the center of the room, arms wrapped around yourself. Your voice came out small. “I…I dont–”

His eyes snapped to yours, molten gold. “I said hotter.”

The command cracked through the room like a whip. Your feet moved before your mind caught up. You twisted the bronze tap. Boiling water thundered in raising clouds of pine scented steam. When the tub was full you turned back, hugging yourself tighter.

Gorvak watched every tremble.

“Take off your robes and get in.”

You shook your head, just once. The movement felt tiny and useless

A low growl rumbled from his chest. “I waited months for you little wife. Im not waiting another heartbeat.” 

Your fingers found the silk ties. They shook so badly you fumbled twice. Finally the robe slipped from your shoulders and pooled at your feet. Cool air kissed skin that had never been bare for anyone. You stepped in quickly the heat shocked you red. A small, frightened sound escaped your throat. Gorvak caught you by the waist before your knees buckled, steadying you between his spread thighs letting the water hide you to the breasts.

Gorvaks hand rose, slow enough that you could have flinched away. You didnt. Calloused fingers cupped your chin, tilting your face up. 

“Good,” he rumbled. “You learn.” 

He handed you the soap and cloth. You washed him with shaking hands broad chest, scarred arms, the thick column of his throat the fresh cuts that made him hiss. His skin burned under your palms, every swipe revealed more of the warrior who had just killed for the right to own you and you didnt know whether to fear that fact or be aroused by it. When the cloth drifted lower and brushed the tip of his cock, you jerked back. He groaned, head falling back, but kept his hands on the rim, letting you explore the thing that would claim you tonight. He then grabbed your wrist keeping your hand on his cock. “Keep going.” 

You swallowed, but your hands obeyed. Soap and water made him slick you stroked once, twice, clumsy with terror and possibly something hotter ’must be the water’. His groan vibrated through the water. When your courage faltered he guided your grip, showing you exactly how he liked it, slow and firm until his hips flexed and the head of his cock breached the surface like a threat.

“Enough” he rasped.

He hauled you forward. You straddled his lap before you could think, water sloshing over the rim. The blunt head of him nudged your entrance. You tried to pull back his hands locked on your hips he stilled instantly, Gorvak felt the tremor in your thighs the moment you settled on his lap, the moment the blunt head of his cock pressed against untouched flesh.

“No,” he said, voice low but iron hard. “Not like this.”

You tried to hide your face against his wet shoulder, mortified at the tears already spilling. He cupped the back of your head instead, keeping you close, letting you feel the thunder of his heart. “Listen to me, little wife. I have waited months to claim you. I will not tear what is mine on the first night.” 

With one arm banded around your waist he lifted you clear off his cock as easily as lifting a bird, ignoring your startled gasp. Water splashed down your joined bodies as he turned you, settling you on the wide stone bench inside the tub so you sat facing him, knees drawn up, thighs trembling. 

“Open,” he ordered softly.

You shook your head, arms crossing over your chest. “I…I cant. Im not… Ive never–”

Something flickered across his face, raw almost pained. He leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours, tusks framing your cheeks. He didnt repeat himself. He simply took your knees in his huge hands and parted them himself, slow but unstoppable, until you were bared to the steaming air and his burning gaze. Tears welled and spilled before you could stop them. “Im scared,” you whispered. “I dont know how to be what you want.” His thumbs brushed the tears from your cheeks, smearing them across your skin like war paint. 

“I waited months” he went on, voice dropping to something reverent and terrible. “Watched you sit in those seats week after week, soft and curious and untouched. Every time you looked at me I thought one day Ill have her trembling under me, terrified and wet and mine.

Your sob caught in your throat.

He drew back just enough to meet your eyes. “Tell me to stop and I will carry you to the furs and hold you until morning. No more. But if you stay here, if you let me open you, understand what it means. I will never be satisfied with once. I will breed you tonight, tomorrow, every moon until your body forgets how to be anything but full of me. That scares you?”

You nodded, trembling.

“Good” he growled. “It should.”

The first touch was not his cock.It was one thick finger, tracing your folds with deliberate gentleness. You flinched he paused, waiting until you relaxed a fraction, then traced again, parting you, learning every shiver. “Sensitive,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Good. means youll feel everything I do to you.” 

He circled the small, untouched pearl at the top until your hips jerked without permission. Only then did he press lower, gathering your slick and his own leaking seed, spreading it everywhere. When the pad of his finger finally pressed against your entrance you tensed so hard he felt it. 

“Breathe out,” he coaxed voice rough with restraint. “Let me in.” 

You exhaled on a sob. 

“Shh” he whispered against your trembling mouth “Cry all you want. Tears taste like surrender, and I am addicted to the flavor.”

The finger slid inside, slow and steady, stretching tender flesh for the first time. It burned but not like before, the heat of the water and his patience turned the burn into a strange fluttering ache. He watched your face the entire time, golden eyes unblinking. When your brow smoothed he crooked his finger, searching and found the spot that made your back arch and a broken sound spill from your lips.

“There,” he growled satisfaction and hunger warring in his voice. “Right there. Thats where my cock will live.” 

He worked you open carefully, one finger until you rocked against his hand, then two scissoring gently, curling and stroking until your thighs fell open on their own and your hands clutched his forearms for balance instead of pushing him away. Only when your hips were chasing his touch did he add a third, stretching you wider the burn now sweet and overwhelming.

When the third finger breached you and you arched with a broken wail, he did not soothe.

He curled them hard, stroked that raw spot inside until pleasure stabbed through the pain, and growled, “Remember this feeling. Every time you think of running, remember how easily I make you come apart on my hand alone.”

You were sobbing quietly, not from pain but from the intensity of it, from the way pleasure and fear braided together until you couldnt tell them apart.

Gorvak leaned forward, tusks framing your tear streaked face, and licked a tear from your cheek.

“Beautiful,” he whispered. “My brave little wife opening so pretty for me.”

When he finally withdrew his fingers you whimpered at the loss you chased them with a helpless sound, then flushed crimson at your own greed. He saw it. His smile was slow, possessive, and utterly without mercy.

He brought them to your lips.

“Taste yourself. Taste what you made for your husband.” 

You obeyed, shy and trembling, the salty sweet flavor making you flush hotter.

You clung to him, terrified and drowning in him, and he drank it in. 

He rose then, water falling off his body and lifted you with him. One arm under your knees the other cradling your back, he stepped out of the tub and carried you to the furs still dripping. He laid you down on your back, knees bent and spread wide. 

Only then did he kneel between them, cock jutting heavy and dark, flushed with need, but his hands were steady the broad head of his cock kissing the entrance he had just prepared.

“Still scared?” he asked, voice shaking with restraint.

You nodded, tears still falling.

“Good,” he whispers, and he teases your entrance, about to claimthe prize he’s been fighting for all along. “Means you finally understand who you belong to.”

“Im going to take you now” he said, lining himself up, the broad head kissing your stretched, slick entrance. “Slow. Youll feel every inch, and youll take it, because this cunt was made for me. But you say stop and I stop. Understand?”

You nodded, biting your lip.

He pushed.

The first inch slid in on a single, controlled thrust. You cried out, fingers pawing at the furs. He froze letting you adjust, letting the burn settle. When your hips rocked the tiniest fraction he gave you another inch, his tusks scrape your throat as he leans in breath scalding.

“Every week you sat up there in those seats, thinking you were safe behind stone and silk. You werent. I counted every breath you took. I memorized the way your lips parted when I spilled blood. Every swing of my axe was a promise one day Ill drag you out of that crowd and lock you to me forever.”

You whimper. He sinks another inch and snarls against your ear.

“You don’t get to watch from a distance. You watch me from my lap, from my cock, from the crook of my arm where I claim you every night. You dont walk these streets unless my hand is on you. You dont breathe unless I allow it.”

Another inch. Your nails dig into his shoulders as tears spill a sob escapes your lips

“Say it” he growls, voice shaking with barely controlled violence. “Tell me who owns you.”

“Yours” you choke out.

"Again" he says with barely any control left

"Yours!" you say abit louder this time

"Louder little wife, they wont hear you outside like that" he says as he stops pushing his cock in making you whimper. "YOURS GORVAK! YOURS!"

He slams the rest of the way home in one brutal thrust, burying himself to the root, claiming every untouched inch. The stretch tore a cry from your throat. He was too big too hot, too everything. Halfway down you froze, tears spilling. He held you still lips brushing your temple.

“Breathe little wife. Ive got you.”

Slowly the burn melted into aching fullness. A broken moan escapes as you were flush against his hips and he was buried deeper than you thought possible.

He gave you one heartbeat to adjust, then began to move slow, grinding rolls that dragged over every raw nerve. His hands slid to your belly, pressing hard so you felt him there.

“This is where my sons will grow. I’m breeding you tonight, tomorrow, every day until your body swells with me. I want you round and dripping and leaking milk, still spreading these legs because even heavy with my child youll beg for my cock.”

His thrusts turned harder, deeper, your one fist grabbing the furs beneath you and the other on Gorvacks thick bicep.  

“You’ll never know what it feels like to be empty again. Ill fuck you awake, fuck you asleep, fuck you at the victory feasts with my war band watching so they know exactly who this belly belongs to. Ill keep you chained to my cock if I have to, plugged and full every single hour until your body has no choice but to take.

You sobbed, clinging to his shoulders, terrified and safe and aching all at once.

“Say it again” he snarled.

“Im yours,” you cried. “Only yours!”

He slammed deep and spilled with a roar, flooding you in thick endless pulses. You felt every one, felt him swell and throb and mark you inside. When he finished he stayed buried, plugging you, keeping it all.  He pulls back just enough to look down at where youre joined, your slick sticking to his lower half making his cock twitch at the obscene sight of your virgin cunt stretched tight around his girth, his spend already trying to leak out. He snarls and shoves two thick fingers alongside his cock, pushing the leaking seed back in, fucking it deeper with his fingers while you wail.

“None of it escapes. Not one fucking drop. You squeeze and you hold what I give you, little wife. You carry it. You grow it. You birth my heirs and then you open your legs again the same moon because Im never finished.”

His eyes are wild now, gold gone molten, pupils blown wide with breeding madness.

“I want ten. Fifteen. Twenty. I want your body ruined for anyone else, stretched and soft and always, always full of me. I want every orc in this city to smell me on you, in you” 

He sits back on the furs and in one smooth motion youre straddling his lap, thighs spread wide over his hips, his cock still buried to the root. The new angle drags a broken sound from your throat he swallows it with a low growl and settles his huge hands on your waist, keeping you pinned. 

“Ride me little wife” he rasps “Take whats already yours. Show me how a virgin takes her husband”

You try to move and falter, oversensitive and shaking.

Gorvaks right hand slides from your hip, slow, deliberate, until it rests palm up on the furs beside your knee. An offering. A question. A dare.

You stare at it scarred knuckles, thick green fingers that have killed men these past months, and something inside you cracks open.

Your smaller hand slips into his, trembling. Your fingers barely span half his palm, but the moment you lace them together he closes his grip like a manacle, gentle and unbreakable.

“There you are” he breathes, voice ragged with reverence.

You try to rise and your legs nearly give out. He steadies you with one iron arm banded across your lower back, guiding you up until only the fat crown stretches your entrance, then lets gravity pull you down again, slow, merciless, every inch dragging over swollen nerves until youre seated to the root and gasping. “That’s it ” he rasps, thumb stroking the back of your trapped hand. “Feel how deep I live in you now.”

He sets the rhythm slow, grinding lifts that make your thighs burn and your belly flutter, then hard drops that punch the air from your lungs and slap wet skin on skin. Each time you sink he thrusts up to meet you, forcing himself deeper, the thick head kissing your womb like a threat and a promise.

“Look at me,” he orders again.

You do, tears still falling, and he drinks them in with dark, hungry eyes.

“You’ll ride me like this every morning” he vows, thrusting up to meet you, slow and punishing. “Heavy with my son, belly round and tight, tits leaking milk down my chest while you still fuck yourself on my cock. Youll waddle through camp with my seed still dripping out of you because I took you again at dawn. Never hiding it. Never. I want every warrior to see this belly and know exactly who breeds his wife.”

Your free hand claws at his chest for balance the one he holds he lifts to his mouth, tusks scraping your knuckles, tongue licking the salt from your skin.

“Feel that?” he growls, pressing your joined hands to your lower belly so you feel him moving beneath the skin. “Thats where my army starts. Right here.”

He shifts you just a little, lifting your hips and tilting them forward.

Now every time you sink down, the thick ridge of his cock rubs hard over that one perfect spot inside you. It feels like lightning. Your breath catches, your thighs shake, and suddenly you cant help it you start moving faster, chasing that bright, hot burst of pleasure, rolling your hips again and again because you need more of it, need it so bad it hurts.

“Greedy little wife,” he laughs, dark and delighted. “Already learning how to fuck yourself on me.”

"Nngh〜 please gorvak" you whimper

His free hand slides to your ass, spreads you wider, controls the pace now, lifting and slamming you down until the furs bunch beneath his shoulders and the wet slap of your bodies echoes off stone. Seed from the first load leaks around his cock with every thrust, smearing your thighs, his hips and the furs beneath. 

You’re close, so close your vision whites out at the edges.

“Come” he snarls, slamming up hard enough to jolt your whole body. “Milk me. Pull my seed deep where it belongs.”

You shatter.

The climax rips through you like a blade, back arching, walls clenching so hard around him that he roars, hips jerking, and spills again, thick, scalding ropes painting your insides until your belly feels hot and tight and impossibly full.

He keeps moving through it, drawing out every aftershock until youre sobbing, boneless and  draped over his chest.

Only then does he still, cock still pulsing, still plugging every drop. His hand never leaves yours. He brings your joined fingers to his lips, kisses each one, tusks once again grazing tender skin.

“Second load” he whispers against your knuckles, voice hoarse. “And I’m still hard.” He rolls his hips lazily, slow and filthy, proving it. Your whimper makes him smile, slow and savage.

He presses your hand harder against the slight swell of your belly, forcing you to feel the heat of what hes already poured into you.

He still doesnt let go.

He falls back onto the furs, pulling you with him so you sprawl across his chest, still impaled, still joined hand to hand. His free arm locks around your waist, keeping you flush, keeping every drop sealed inside.

He rolls his hips lazily, still hard, still hungry.

“Third load coming, little wife,” he murmurs against your temple. “Then the fourth. Fifth. Until youre overflowing and your womb aches when I’m not inside it.”

“You’re going to give me an army,” he says, soft and lethal. “And every time you come on my cock you’ll remember who put it there.”

He kisses the inside of your wrist, right over the pulse that races for him now.

“Mine,” he says, soft and lethal. “Body. Womb. Pleasure. Pain. Future. All fucking mine.”

And then he starts again, slow, deep, endless, your hand locked in his the entire time.

The torches burn lower and lower until the room is only red embers and shadows.Gorvak never lets go of your hand. He keeps you on top of him, thighs spread wide, his thick cock buried in your sore, newly-opened body.

You were a virgin when the night began.

You are not one now, and he makes sure you feel every single moment of that truth.

He moves you slow at first, lifting your hips, letting you sink down inch by inch so you remember how it felt the first time he split you open. Your legs shake. Your breath comes in little hurt sounds. Every time you try to hide your face in his neck he pulls your hand to his lips and kisses your fingers, then makes you ride him harder.

“Again,” he growls each time you come, walls fluttering around him like youre still trying to push him out even while you pull him deeper. He spills inside you over and over hot, thick ropes that never seem to stop until your belly feels warm and tight and youre sure you can’t take any more.

But you do.

Fourth time.

Fifth time.

Sixth.

You lose count somewhere after the moon starts to fade.

Youre crying quietly now, not from pain anymore, just from how full you are, how raw, how completely his. Your thighs gave out hours ago  he just holds your hips and uses you gently, then roughly, then gently again, whispering the whole time.

“Still my virgin in every way that matters,” he rasps against your ear, voice cracked from hours of roaring. “No one else will ever have this. No one else will ever open you. No one else will ever put a child in you. Only me.”

When the first pale light slips through the high slit in the wall, youre laying over his chest, shaking, stuffed so full your belly looks softly swollen already.

His cock is still inside you, half hard, still leaking slow, steady pulses like he cant turn it off.

Gorvak kisses your wet cheeks, your swollen lips, the fresh bite on your neck that will scar.

“Morning little wife,” he murmurs, rolling his hips once, lazy and deep, drawing a broken whimper from you.

“Suns up,” he says, smiling against your hair. “Time to start again.”

And he does after giving you a nice full meal and a nice warm bath with him continuously spilling his seed inside

Outside, the war camp wakes to the low, steady sounds of their champion breeding his virgin prize again, and again, and again, until every soul in the city knows exactly who took your innocence and exactly who you belong to now.

"Oh, that's so improper... but..." His teeth have already started to chatter. "Yes, I should."

You lead him into your kitchen, next to your burning cookstove, and jump to help him remove his heavy coat. While he was undoing his boots, you checked out the perfectly flat oven tray. You have a feeling he even polished it unnecessarily. "Oh dear, this is amazing! The first tray of muffins is yours."

"Oh, thank you, I love your muffins!"

You had to chuckle a little bit, truly entertained by his warm innocence. Although he's far from inexperienced - or so you heard.

You help him remove his sweater before bringing him a towel. As soon as you enter your kitchen, you are greeted with a naked orc back as wide as a barn door. He is muscular, of course, as any blacksmith would be, and slightly hairy across his shoulder blades, naturally. But - oh, makers - he is freckled! How adorable!

He notices your stare and immediately hides himself behind his shirt. "I'm so s-sorry. Even my undershirt is wet. If I can only leave it here for 10 minutes, and I can hide somewhere until it dries off a little bit."

"No no no..." You really hope your voice doesn't quiver as much as your cunt does at the sight of his muscular, freckled shoulders. "You'll stay here, undress all those wet clothes, and get all nice and warm."

There is a slight blush covering his ears. "Are you sure?"

You take a step forward, the tip of your head barely reaching his collarbone, and you boldly look him in the eyes. "I insist." Even more boldly, you hook your index finger against his pants.

He smiles. Sweetly, like honey. He is familiar with this game. He is a skilled craftsman not only when it comes to metal and fire. Many villagers enjoyed their time with him, and they all loved to brag about how divine he is with his tongue and fingers. You and your sweet neighbor blacksmith, however, only had one brief opportunity to exchange a heated kiss behind an oak during the spring festival. But it was one salacious kiss that left you breathless and craving so much more.

And you decided you won't try only his fingers and mouth. Oh no. You are taking the whole orc package tonight.

"Let me help you undress," you coax him.

He obediently raises his arms. "As you wish."

Soon he stands naked in front of you, his massive cock hanging low even though semi-hard. "You are so handsome..." You stroke his length, licking your lips. "Can't wait to ride it..."

"What?" His eyes show genuine concern. "No, don't! You might get hurt."

You chuckle and pinch his nipple. "Don't worry, big guy. I can handle you. Just give me time." You pull him lower toward you by holding him by his tusks. He moans when you bite his lower lip. "And you are not going anywhere during this downpour."

The rain is indeed heavy enough to silence your pathetic whimpers as you hold your bed frame, keeping your core stable, thanking the Makers for sending this incredible orc to your village. The aforementioned orc is meanwhile kneeling behind you and eating you out with the fervour of a starving wolf devouring a deer carcass. He is enjoying it, too, humming into your pulsating, soaking wet cunt, bringing you to the verge of your fourth orgasm.

"No!" It was hard to say this word. But you had to. His tongue and fingers did a perfect job, and you knew you were ready for the real deal. "I want you. I want your cock."

"No," he pants against your thigh. "I'm too big for humans. If you were—"

You bury your face into the pillow and spread you ass cheecks. "FUCK ME NOW!"

Even though your bratty scream was muffled by the goose's feathers, your demand was heard. There is a gruntle, sounding somewhere between protest and pleasure, as a glans spreads your lips. Your entrance stretches and stretches and stretches. Your breath is shallow, and you chuckle nervously. But you ain't no quitter!

"Are you okay?"

"Yesssssss", you moan into your pillow, and a large warm flesh presses against your behind as his hips begin moving. "Oh, yes..."

"You like it?" he whispers next to your ear, his breath quickening. He is still slow and careful, but it feels so good, and you confirm it to him. "Oh fuck yes. I've wanted to fuck you for such a long time. Since... ah... since that night... Fuck, your pussy is so tight..."

Your pussy isn't as tight as his cock is large, but you keep that to yourself. The orc blacksmith is so heavy that your body almost dived into your mattress. The badframe is shaking and squeaking as he pounds harder and harder into you. The moist squelches as your pussy satisfyingly drools from pounding are almost just as loud.

He chuckles. "It's in... Fuck, it's in... You are amazing... Is this good? Ahhh... Do you like it?"

You can barely talk at this point, but you know he deserves praise. "It's perfect... Ah!... Don't stop... Ah ah!"

"Yes, yes!" As you assumed, his excitement gives him vigour, and his groin starts working like a machine. You can barely think as your orgasm approaches you, and all you can say is "I'll— I'll—" as a powerful spasm erupts inside your cunt. You scream, and your bed squeaks, and your pussy gushes as your peak takes over your body.

The orc grabs your hips harder and slams into your core before shooting his seed into you. "Thank you... Thank you... Thank you!" he grunts happily, pumping his cock in and out. Your mixed juices drip down your trembling thighs and soak your poor mattress.

The Hierarchy at Cardinal Veil Industries:

The Board of Directors:

Phoenix Shade - a half-dragon and half-man with dark gray scales scattered across his body.

Calder Blackwood - a cursed werewolf with glowing yellow eyes.

Gaian Cross - a thousand-year-old vampire with a horribly ironic name.

Fiona Vexx - a witch of dark, earthly magic.

Varfu Cornelius - an orc of average size, and is known for his impatience.

The CEO:

Lucius Veil - a powerful, magic-wielding demon whose influence and namesake helped create the company.

The Manager:

Beatrix Barclay - a witch from a powerful lineage of witches that manages the 5th floor.

You:

a lowly human who spent her first year at Cardinal Veil Industries busting her ass to make a name for herself and work her way up the ladder as fast as possible.

It was that time of year–performance reviews. Where your timecard was overanalyzed, logged mistakes were drafted up into a single document, and your general work was skimmed over by your boss. This was your first performance review at Cardinal Veil Industries, and you’d spent the last year busting your ass to get everything done before the deadlines, taking on extra work when coworkers were sick, and did so much overtime to compensate for others’ delays, you practically lived at the office. 

For all intents and purposes, you were due not only for a raise, but a promotion. A decent, hefty, well-earned bit of recognition, rising of the ranks, and that raise.

So, when the notification appeared in your email that it was time for your performance review, you were excited. When you read that it wasn’t just going to be with your general manager–Beatrix Barclay–but with the big boss as well? That excitement actually blossomed into some semblance of hope. Maybe he’d recognized your efforts. Maybe he’d reward them. Sitting down with a personal meeting with Lucius Veil meant something. Possibly, it even meant you might actually walk out of there with a raise and a promotion. 

You were going all the way up to the top floor to see Lucius, his grand office, and his notice–clearly. Why else were you going all the way up there?

The meeting was scheduled for the end of the day on a Friday, which, given any other circumstances, might’ve worried you. But you were the best worker on your floor by a wide margin. Even the employees that’d been there for years were coming to you for help, questions, and general requests for assistance as their workload backed up. Granted, you were eager to take on the extra hours and overtime pay, so when coworkers needed to be out due to feeding requirements, unavoidable heats, and shifting hours as the days got longer and those vampyric couldn’t be reached, you covered. With the structure of the job, too, getting noticed so early into your career by the single demon that could help you prosper into much, much more than what you were doing…you were downright bubbly. Eager.

You flattened your hands along the faint wrinkles in your skirt. They were unavoidable since you’d been scrunched up at your desk all day, but shaky hands and nerves had you trying to rub them out. You had on your best for the sake of the meeting. A black pencil skirt, a white button-up blouse with a matching black blazer over it, your finest heels that were miraculously unscuffed, and nylons. You would’ve gone with nude ones, but they’d gotten a run in them while you wrangled with them to get them on. Sheer black ones were their replacement, and by an equally as sheer miracle, you managed to get through the day without getting a single run in them. 

“Deep breath,” you muttered, staring up at the numbers increasing above the elevator doors. It ran smoothly, but it ran slowly. A dragging ride up to the 31st floor that left far, far too much time for your heart to begin racing, your stomach to twist into knots, and your thoughts to creep in on themselves. “You’ve busted your ass for this. You’re a good worker. You’re a strong worker. You’re competent, a team player, and an asset to their team. You’re going to ask for a raise, and you’re not going to budge on anything undeserving. You’ve got this. You can do this. It’ll be fine.”

The elevator vanished into darkness for a long moment when you took a deep breath. Inside, it smelled like rosemary, gentle ash, and that familiar heat of lingering magic. It’d taken some getting used to–everything that collected in the atmosphere there–and how it settled against you, over your skin, in every breath, but you’ve mostly adjusted. Still, it tickled your already jumbled nerves like a whispered breath trying to tangle them. 

“You can do this,” you repeated to yourself three times over. “You can.”

The elevator came to a careful stop. The quiet ding was like a gong ringing next to your ears. Still, when those doors opened to the hallway outside of Lucius’ office, you stepped off. You had to. Otherwise, riding back down to your floor, clocking out, and retreating was forfeiting what you deserved. 

Your heels clacked the entire way to the door. A supply closet, a bathroom, and a small breakroom for his two assistants were passed. All closed. All locked up for the workday, then. Which meant Darnell and Eva were gone. Alright–no big deal. It just meant you had to announce yourself, Maybe Lucius would just have his main office door open for you to go through without it being awkward?

You silently prayed that was the case when you reached for the doorknob. Cardinal Veil Industries was scrawled across the milky glass in perfect cursive. A golden light shone through that was from the grand fixture in the center of the next room, positioned right over the double front desks for Darnell and Eva. But…but you paused, your hand hovering over the brass doorknob.

Through the pounding of your heart, the thin glass on the door did very little to muffle the hum of conversation carrying through it. The words itself were garbled nonsense, but there were words. And not simply Lucius communicating one-sidedly. Multiple voices carried through. Not just Beatrix’s, which you could place by her higher-pitched tone. There was Lucius’–which you knew well-enough from the visits he’d make to various floors and meetings to ensure work was progressing as he’d liked, then there was Beatrix’s, and then there were…more. One more? No, two. Another feminine voice. Three, maybe. Four? It was hard to place, exactly, when you were hidden behind that door. 

Had you gotten the time wrong? The date?

No. You looked down at your printed calendar you always kept on your folder for the day. Your performance review was with Lucius at 5:00 sharp on Friday–that Friday. Had he cancelled and the messenger missed you? No, you’d been at your desk all day. So maybe it was a message that never got relayed? Or…an unexpected meeting?

You glanced back toward the elevator waiting at the hallway’s end. You…could turn around and leave, then send him a message on Monday regarding the sounds of a meeting you did not wish to interrupt. Better that than going in and risking a stir to your good reputation with the big boss, right? Or it was an error and he still wanted to have the meeting with you, thus making any leaving and assumptions made reflect poorly upon you. 

Crap.

What were you supposed to do then? Either way, if this was unplanned and you chose wrong, you’d take some sort of hit. Which was better, politely interrupting a meeting or assuming you ought to simply leave? You had your answer before you finished even asking the question. It was better to go in and ensure that you ought to leave and reschedule. 

It was.

It was.

Alright. Alright! 

You closed your eyes again. Another deep breath filled your lungs with the very same scents as earlier. Rosemary, ash, and magic. As did another deep breath, and then a third. That was about all you’d spare for yourself before you’d just fall into the category of stalling. 

“Okay,” you breathed. 

And with a tip of your chin up, you turned the knob and stepped in.

Lucius’ office was made up of two parts. The front area where Darnell and Eva worked, greeted visitors, and facilitated everything tasked upon them for Lucius. Beyond their desks sat the door to the office of the very man who signed everyone’s paychecks in a luxurious office three times the size of Beatrix’s. Maybe more.

Within the space, you stepped across dark walnut-colored wood flooring illuminated by that golden-glowing grand fixture overhead. It was eyecatching, magnificent, and worth a hell of a lot more than just a few paychecks. The higher up you went in the building, the better the pay got. And since you worked down on the fifth floor, you had a lot of stairs to climb.

As expected, unfortunately, Darnell and Eva’s desks were empty and cleaned meticulously. Not a paper was visible on the surfaces, not a pen was out of place, and they only had a handful of personal items donning the edges. You walked past them slowly, like one might peek out from a secret space to beckon you back to be announced to Lucius. But alas….

The various voices were a bit clearer, then, carrying through the cracked door. The thrum of your pulse still kept the words muddled, but at what must’ve been the clacking of your heels, they died off into a painful silence. Even before you raised a shaky hand to knock on the thick wood, you knew that they knew you were there. 

Fuck.

“Come in, (Y/N),” Beatrix called. A familiar voice was reassuring, but not calming.

Despite your attempt to avoid it, you were hesitant in your movement. Nudging the door open awkwardly, forcing yourself to keep your shoulders back, and trying to length your timid steps. But they were expecting you. That rang out when you passed the threshold and entered Lucius’ office. So that was a positive. 

But it was a backhanded positive, you realized, when you stood in Lucius’ office with more than Beatrix and the man himself. Upon his finely upholstered furniture, vaguely familiar faces glanced your way. Faces in which you passed each morning on your way into work in the lobby.

Phoenix Shade, half-dragon and half-man with dark gray scales climbing along his jaw. He looked younger than he was–somewhere in his early thirties to the actual eighty-years he actually was, though given his genetics, he aged differently than most. Slower. He was as clean shaven in his picture, and he was clean shaven right then, with dark hair combed back without a strand out of place. 

Calder Blackwood, a cursed werewolf with glowing yellow eyes. Curly brown hair was wild and tousled without product, matching the speckle of stubble going across his jaw with hints of gray in it. He couldn’t have been older than his late thirties with the wear of work to show for it in his features and faded tattoos along his arms.

Gaian Cross, a vampire with a horribly ironic name, with eyes as red as the blood he lived off of. Blemishless skin looked cold even through his portrait and there in the golden-lit room. A fine dress shirt donned him with pressed slacks and he had his silvery white hair pulled back. He was at least a thousand years old, yet he looked younger than you. 

Fiona Vexx, a witch of dark, earthly magic. A dark green dress matched her eyes and the streaks in her black hair done up in braids, twists, and golden pieces. Gold flickered over tattoos on her arms and legs like magic itself whispering her power into the air.

Varfu Cornelius, a middle-aged orc with dark green skin and dark eyes that matched. His brown hair was longer than what was pictured, yet he wore the same gray shirt and darker tie, the sleeves done up over his forearms to show off scarring and thicker muscle than you’d ever seen. 

The Board of Directors.

All lounging back casually upon the dark red, handcrafted furniture lining Lucius Veil’s office. 

Lucius Veil…a demon whose namesake named the very place that he ran under their guidance. His age unknown with dark hair without a speck of gray or any deep wrinkles to give anything away. He leaned against the front of his desk with a welcoming–beckoning–smile. A typical suit fit him tailormade, blacker than black, with a silver necklace hanging down and tucked into his dress shirt. A slew of charmed rings sat on his fingers as they always did, clinking against his glass of dark liquor. Even from there, magic seemed to just bleed from him. It always made his appearances around the office imposing and inadvertently intimidating. 

Amongst all the magic within the room, all the power, you froze. 

What the fuck was the Board of Directors doing there? 

“Take a breath,” Lucius mused, following his words with a lazy sip of his drink. “It’s not often a new hire makes as big of a splash as you have. You’ve caught everyone’s attention with your work ethic. They wanted to put a face to the name. Meet the newbie putting our most senior employees to shame. I figured what a better time to do so than your performance review?”

“You’re going to give the poor woman a heart attack, Lucius,” Gaian interjected. Sharp red eyes were waiting for you when you followed his voice. They flitted over your face and down along your jaw. Lower, even, right where your shirt collar brushed up against your throat. “Her pulse is erratic. You should have warned her.”

“Any good worker can adjust and prepare for the unexpected,” came from Fiona. She was draped across a loveseat across from Gaian, her dark green dress parting on a slit over her leg. Her eyes were a richer green than the forest when she pulled your attention away from Gaian’s. “You seem to be a net positive on all fronts otherwise. Does she panic this hard this often, Beatrix?”

“No, she is the best we’ve had so quickly.” Beatrix lifted her glass of what looked to be a rich red wine. Cheers to you? As if your heart wasn’t about to beat out of your chest for Gaian to enjoy as a delicacy right then and there. Your breaths were short and shallow; goosebumps pricked along your skin while you tried to reel everything back in. What the fuck were the Board of Directors doing there? For you? 

“Sit, (Y/N).” Lucius waved you forward. A single chair sat in front of where he stood. With the layout of the room, it was practically boxed in. Other chairs, the desk, loveseats, and two couches framed it in. And with Lucius right there, the space felt smaller than it was. For as grand as the room was, as you took a small, timid step forward, you felt like you were an animal caught in a trap.

The chair was ungodly comfortable, though, forming to you perfectly when you sat. It kept you supported along your back and down where you crossed your legs to try and feign some sense of professionalism where it was starting to lack. 

What the fuck was going on? They wanted to meet you? That wanted to meet you. That was a good thing, wasn’t it? Right? Right. That had to be. Definitely a good thing. Certainly a good thing.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry, forgive me,” you sputtered, shaking your head. A harsh furrow of your brows almost hurt, and you shook your head, trying to get traction back beneath your feet. “This just wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Obviously,” came Varfu’s deep voice. Blunt like the edge of a letter opener.

“Would you like a drink, (Y/N)?” Lucius asked. His eyes were a silvery blue with more of that glittering silver in them. Be it not for his fingers tapping the thick file on his desk beside them, you might’ve gotten lost in them. They held such power in them that you could feel it with just a look. Beatrix was similar in that regard, but hers was less silent and foreboding. She wore hers on her sleeve, using magic to assist with everyday tasks. Magic that came from her lineage. Lucius’ came from somewhere much deeper and much darker. “We will be here a while going over your file. It’s thicker than most, and we want to ensure you get a proper review. A drink might help you relax.”

A…drink. A drink. Right. A little bit of liquor to calm the nerves? In came a very, very slow breath joined by a stronger scent of magic, rosemary, ash, and even bits of blood, earth, and the sweet scent of wine. Was having a drink the smartest move in a room full of your bosses? Was not having a drink seen as an insult? Okay. Okay.

“Sure,” you muttered. “Yes, please, I mean. Thank you.” 

Lucius stepped around you and a brush of his hand brought it to your shoulder. The thick material of your blazer all but blocked it as a general warmth. He radiated it as he radiated magic. And it wasn’t until he squeezed your shoulder, bunching up the fabric and brushing his pinkie against your neck that you twitched. Heat pummeled you, and dragged out goosebumps with a vice grip. 

It lasted mere seconds, not even. A quick squeeze that had your breath catching in your throat, then he was gone. Walking towards a small bar positioned over to your left, in between where Beatrix stood and Fiona was stretched out over that loveseat. 

A soft click brought your eyes back further. The office door sat closed under Phoenix’s hand, and he gave you a quirked-brow glance before returning to the couch to sit beside Calder. The glint in his yellow eyes brought you right back to Lucius pouring you a glass of something sweet-smelling. 

“You put in an absurd number of hours here for someone who works down on the fifth floor,” Lucius mused. “Most do not try to do even a fraction of your workload until they reach the tenth floor. Even then, they just aim for a managerial spot and call it a day. We will go over each project you’ve already completed, and before deadlines nearly each time, but what is your goal here, (Y/N)?” He turned with a full glass of something sparkling and clear. “Why work so hard so soon?”

“Not to sound like Phoenix, but new hires often make that mistake–burning themselves out before they even know they’re ash,” Calder murmured. “But you seem to enjoy being here more than you do at home if your hours aren’t incorrect.”

“I double-check all hours.” Beatrix threw a sharp look over your shoulder. Lucius handed you your drink. “Hers are always correct.”

“Thank you,” you said with a short nod. What was your goal? Ten minutes ago, and you had the answer poised on the tip of your tongue. But right then, you stalled your response by taking a careful sip of the sparkling drink. Oh. It was as sweet as it smelled without being overpowering. It wasn’t quite a white wine, but not champagne either. It was something else that went down smooth and thicker than it looked, but it was still light. Almost tempted to drink too much of it if you’d been in a more appropriate environment. “Uh, I just…um.”

You shook your head again. You were better than this; you could converse without filler words, could actually come up with said word within your head without them going blank. This wasn’t putting your best foot forward, so you took another sip, praying it’d calm those damn nerves down.

What was your goal?

Your goal. Right. You wanted to work your way up as fast as possible. You’d busted your ass in school and other jobs, and a few careless errors always screwed you over. Situations where you should’ve stayed instead of going home; where you should’ve said yes instead of no; where you misjudged your importance at the company only to be tossed out on your ass. None of which you were going to say to your employer, but they hung over you.

“I want to be dependable and irreplaceable.”

Lucius smiled. It was a slow smile. The kind that made your heart skip when he gave it to you over the rim of his glass. Your hands trembled around yours, and you made yourself take another sip just to fill the silence between your words and his smile. 

“That’s a good answer.” He nodded, tapping your file again. “Every project you’ve worked on has been top-notch. It’s been outright perfect, even, with the rare mistakes only back when you first started. Everyone talks you up. You’ve got a perfect attendance record. Stay the latest, come in the earliest. Cover for anyone who needs it. Beatrix even talks you up every chance she gets.” He tilted his head and there in came the clinking of his rings against the glass again. Light shifts behind you were the literal reminder whom you sat amongst. Though, you could feel all of their eyes falling upon you with every word Lucius said. “Even with overtime, I don’t think you’re being fairly compensated. Do you?”

Well, that was certainly a tangent into that conversation. Your pulse flickered, and you could pinpoint Gaian sitting back in his spot right as your heart stuttered. Knowing he was so honed in on your pulse…what else was everyone there focused on? What were they thinking when they looked at you? What should you be thinking? What should you be fucking saying as Lucius waited for you response?

Payment. Properly paid. A raise. 

You cleared your throat a tad awkwardly, licking the drink from your lips. You hadn’t eaten since early that morning and that food in your stomach was doing nothing to soak up the alcohol. 

“If the offer of a raise is on the table, yes, I…wouldn’t mind discussing it for the workload I handle,” you answered with a nod. “For a more fair compensation.”

Lucius’ smile grew a little more. The silver in his eyes got a little darker.

“Right.” He returned your nod. “For the work you volunteer to do.”

The word was like a tip of a blade pressing against your jugular. It left you with the retort, and you had to do so carefully or else you’d get cut.

Volunteer. You did volunteer for it, yes. But….

“If I did not, there would be slack left to be picked up by someone else who wouldn’t do it, or, at least, not do it as well as I do.” You pushed your shoulders back a bit more. “Beatrix has been able to leave when she wants every day because I hold back and catch up on deadlines for the others.”

“Voluntarily. Do you think it earns you brownie points because you save Beatrix a few late nights while cashing in on an overtime check?” Lucius leaned back, resting his hands on the edge of his desk and tapping his fingers on the underside. Ever so gently, but it was just loud enough with his rings that you couldn’t help but watch, distractedly. “You choose to sacrifice your time at your own discretion.”

You sucked in a hot, frustrated breath.

“Would you like me to stop? I can return to my typical duties and my expected schedule.” If that’s what the meeting was about–trapping you in some twist of your words and overtime to prevent giving you a raise–you’d do exactly that. Work to the exact degree your contract stated. No more. “If you think you can compensate for my dependability through those elsewhere on floor five, of course. I’m happy to do that.”

“Oh, she’s got more bite than I thought,” Fiona hummed. “Fun.”

Heat touched the tips of your ears. Was this about intimidating you? This could’ve been a message from Darnell or Eva. Hell, Beatrix could’ve pulled you aside to say as much. But having the entire Board of Directors there while you got a dressing down for having the audacity to think they might give you a slight raise was overkill. It was just cruel. 

“Honestly, I admire your dedication to the job. I wish even half of my employees would try and bleed me dry as you are with how often you’re here. More than you’re ever home, it seems. You are dependable, aren’t you?” His fingers continued the same rhythmic tapping. The slew of gems on his rings caught the lights in the room with all the flare they held within them. Your heart stammered again; your breath caught in your throat. “You’d make a good manager, always taking care of everyone when Beatrix can’t. Covering for them. All with impeccable work to top it off. You are practically irreplaceable.”

Yes, you were. And outside of a raise, you’d love a promotion. But given how this talk was already going, the idea of looking for other places for work wasn’t too far away. You’d done a lot of work just to get a job there; it was the best spot to work at in town by a longshot. But if they were going to underpay and undervalue you already, mocking you in front of the damn Board of Directors, then the best option was to leave. Right?

“We have a special practice here at Cardinal Veil Industries. For promotions, for raises.” Lucius hummed, finishing off the last of his drink. “I agree with you and I agree with Beatrix, who came to me on your behalf to once again talk up her best employee. You deserve a raise. A proper raise. But in order to sign off on that, we’re going to have to ask you to really prove your dedication to Cardinal Veil Industries.”

You blinked at him. Prove yourself? A little trickle of warmth slid down the back of your neck and down into your chest. A dry mouth was satisfied with another longer sip of the sweet liquor–with how floaty the room was getting, it could only be liquor–and you swallowed it hard, throwing the confusion right at Lucius without a filter.

“Have I not proven that dedication over the last year?” you asked a bit too bluntly. 

“Oh, you have.” Lucius pushed up. Slow strides moved him from in front of you to your side. His fingers skimmed along the edge of the armrest and followed it up, up, and up to your shoulder. Up where his fingers skimmed over the very edge of your blazer, and another warm shiver climbed along your neck. Right where his warm fingers skimmed over your jaw and so gently held you. 

Turned you. 

Your breath went quiet yet frantic as you were turned. Just a little tilt of your head, nothing more, but his touch at your jaw was as burning hot as it was soft. And out to the side, where your eyes fell, came his other hand. A single flick of wrist brought forth a cloud of sparkling ash and a piece of paper. Held carefully before you, the tips of his fingers lazily running along the curve of your jaw, you blinked at the ink forming on the page.

40% raise - Assistant Managerial Position - Floor 8.

“How does this sound?” he asked, tracing his fingers down along the side of your throat. 

How did that sound? Holy shit. You’d expected a few dollars. Not a 40% increase, a floor promotion, and a title promotion. That…. No wonder the Board of Directors was there. This was far from what you’d anticipated. Your hard word had paid off. 

You nodded. You’d be an idiot not to nod. There was no negotiating anything better from that deal. 

Except, when you glanced down at the bottom of the page for any semblance of a line for a signature, there wasn’t one. The document just outlined the basic premise of the salary raise and the promotion. That and…and signing wasn’t signing with the company. You were signing with him. With Lucius. 

With him, Phoenix, Gaian, Calder, Fiona, Varfu, and Beatrix as an added beneficiary as she’d recommended you. To secure your employment and “protect” your position beyond the means of traditional contracts. Like the paper one sitting in a filing cabinet you’d signed when you’d been hired. To earn a yearly 20% raise–at the very least–and the promise of a promotion if your work did not fall in standard. It guaranteed days off, doubling your already unused PTO; gave you an assistant and your own office. 

All to be sealed with the aforementioned CEO, Board of Directors, and manager of which such recommendation came from–physically. To ensure a sealed contract.

Your stomach flipped. The contract blurred out when you did not blink nor lift your eyes from the page. The heat of his touch seeping into you when he brushed his fingers back up along your jaw was like hot wax eager to seal a demon’s deal. 

This…. Your mouth parted to scoff, but no sound came out. Lucius’ fingers skimmed back down along your throat but didn’t stop at the brush of your collar; they dipped ever so slightly underneath, the very tips tickling the top of your collarbone and sending a lightning bolt of…of something down your stomach to where your legs sat crossed. 

It was offensive. It was bullshit. It was a twist of power. It was coercion. It was downright disgusting.

“It’s a lucrative offer,” he mused, brushing the fabric aside as his finger traced your collarbone with what it could reach without restriction. The lightest of touches. Back and forth. A mere movement away from wrapping his fingers around your throat in the choking grasp he might as well have had on you. “You won’t get a better one again if you decline, and you won’t get anything even a fraction of this good elsewhere. If you want to get up and leave, by all means. I’ll even write you a stunning letter of recommendation for wherever else you go. But this?” His hand moved. It slid right into that very grasp, closing around your throat high enough to move your head back. Eyes pulled away from the contract to focus on his, his thumb brushing over you soothingly. “This is life-changing, and you know it.”

Your breath hitched underneath his grasp. His smile might’ve been upside down, but it was still a smile. A burning, soft, wicked smile that was right. As much as it pained you, it was. It was a miraculous offer that came with no miracles attached. A demon’s deal to sign, and to sign it with yourself…with…with all of them. It wasn’t even about your work ethic anymore, was it? Or maybe it was and that was entirely part of it. 

Every being in that room…. Well, it made sense why they were there. Really made sense. A sting of tears pressed against the back of your eyes as Lucius kept them glued to his. What’ll it be? A question they asked and you asked yourself. If you wanted a raise and a promotion, what were you willing to do for them? What were you willing to give up if you didn’t? You could leave, but you’d be taking him at his word that all would go on as normal if you stayed in your position. You could quit, and trust he’d write you a good letter of recommendation. But you’d made the mistake of trusting when you shouldn’t have; one too many ill choices put you exactly in that position for trying to better yourself.

“So what will it be?” he asked, gliding his hand higher. 

His thumb brushed over your lips while he cupped your jaw. It was softer than you would’ve thought, and moved so, so delicately as he parted your lips. A careful press of the pad of his thumb rested atop your mouth, rubbing back and forth.

So what would it be? 

You felt the magic looming in the air, and the threat of failure and distrust beyond the walls of his office. You blinked away the sting of tears.

“Make it floor ten,” you murmured, forcing the words out steadily.

Lucius’ smile twitched into a smirk. A short, sharp laugh followed, and you felt it down in your stomach. It was a last-ditch effort but–

“Nineth floor, no higher,” he answered, pressing his thumb down harder as he flicked his other wrist. The number changed on the contract instantly. 

And just like that….

You swallowed hard. 

“Okay.” The word left you breathlessly. “We have a deal then.”

It was the only option you had for success. A demon’s deal secured with a glow of red within the ink, marking the finality of it. Your position secured so long as you followed through with the terms. The terms sitting in seven all around you. Seven powerful beings sitting up straighter, shifting, finishing off and topping off their drinks while the air turned hot and thick.

Lucius kept that grin as the contract poofed from his hand and appeared floating over his desk. Elongated–new lines appearing next to everyone’s names. Their signatures waiting, yet you instinctively knew there was no pen to be taken and no ink for it to be dipped in. The stipulation of the contract was singular and simple. Physical.

“Well then,” he cooed, “we should seal it with a kiss.”

Lucius dragged his thumb slowly, adjusting his grip to take you by your throat. There’d needn’t be much behind the hold, the start of his pull had you moving to your feet in an instant. Gradually rising out of the chair whilst his lips came to yours halfway. You hardly stood, barely getting your legs uncrossed to get the proper support. To keep your balance, you had to plant your hands on the armrests, fighting the curve of your back and the hold on your throat as his mouth pressed to yours.

Slowly. Searing.

He tasted like magic–dangerous, powerful magic.

“There we go,” he murmured, nudging your lips apart with his. He kissed you harder, held you just the same, pressing the patterns along his rings into your skin. The air in the room grew inexplicably warmer; a humidity in their air that made every breath feel thick and as dangerous as those you were with. “Let’s earn you those signatures.”

One flick of his wrist, and what balance you’d tried to maintain was gone. On weak knees and heels that suddenly felt too tall, you were turned and shoved to the very center of those caged in around you. Beatrix, Gaian, Calder, Phoenix, Fiona, and Varfu. Lucius stalking up behind you. 

The momentum and positioning sent you staggering directly forward. Staggering until your knees buckled and hit the rug positioned just in front of Calder and Phoenix. You caught yourself on your hands, staring down at the ornate rug now pressing into your palms and knees. At Phoenix’s dress shoes and Calder’s expensive sneakers. Your stomach twisted into something molten at the mere sight, and it twisted harder when they shifted. 

When a hand reached and cupped the bottom of your chin.

Phoenix guided you up to your knees with your chin in his hand. Scales were a light glint when his tailored shirt shifted over his wrist, and you could see the faint outline of them going across his forearm. 

“Open your mouth,” he whispered. 

Gold eyes looked back at you with a flash within them. A striking difference to the glow in Calder’s settling in just in your peripheral vision. Phoenix tipped your chin up more and pulled you in closer, parting his knees so you sat right up against the edge of the couch. It pressed into your midsection, and you planted your hands on it on either side of you to support yourself while he moved you. While you felt the heat of defeat and humiliation on your lips, lingering with a strong tingling from Lucius’ kiss, when you parted them. 

Phoenix hummed. Next to him, you needn’t look to know that the low growl was from the man next to him. It turned something in your stomach that you kept quiet on. Had to keep quiet on. Phoenix lifted his other hand and gradually sank his middle and ring finger into your mouth. Starting so, so languidly, giving you the tips and just that before catching your eye and pressing them in.

And in.

And in.

He tasted like ash as his rough fingers pressed down on your tongue and sat just a hair shy of your gag reflex.

“Have you ever been with anyone who wasn’t human?” he asked, gingerly pulling his fingers back to the tips, then pressing them right back in. His hand remained on your chin, keeping it up and locked onto him. Your breathing picked up and you tried to close your eyes, but there was something captivating about his. Something that told you to stay right there; that was right. This was what you just sealed with a kiss. 

That did not stop the kiss of degrading humiliation from touching your cheeks.

You tried to delay your answer, but by the time he pumped his fingers into your mouth again, you knew you had to answer.

You shook your head as much as his grasp would allow.

Calder made another sound akin to a growl. There were various hmmms across the room that sent goosebumps down your spine.

“Sorry, Varfu, you’ll have to go last. This one seems…delicate.” Phoenix stilled his fingers just outside of your mouth, making you look back at your spit glistening on them. “We don’t want to break her.”

A low, grumbling huff made your stomach do a flip. There wasn’t an average person in that room. Sure, some looked human, Phoenix himself was half-human, and most had general human proportions. But they weren’t human. 

What would they want from you? 

Phoenix wiped his wet fingers over your lips. Calder’s chest heaved with huffing, audible breaths. 

“Poor thing. You’re going to make her have a panic attack.” Gaian’s smooth voice carried across the space to brush up against your ear. “Or are you just trying to tease me with her fluttering pulse, Phoenix?”

“Enough.”

Fiona’s voice cut through the room like a knife. There was a snap to it you could feel. No,no–you did feel it. A snap of something that latched onto you. Around your throat. It constricted your airway just enough to make you gasp for a deeper breath, but all you earned was a tug. It hauled you away from Phoenix’s opening hand, and brought you to your hands and knees on that rug. Crawling. Following that pull like a leash toward Fiona. A dark green vine looming with matching magic puffing around it like smoke. Thorns lined it, but only pinched against your skin when you didn’t crawl fast enough.

She rolled her hand in a wave to wrap the vine around it, sitting upright and right on the edge of her loveseat, eyes burning into you. One tug, and you were there. Chin up just the same, gasping for more air than she was giving you. She dragged her free hand over her lap and down her upper thigh. Green-painted nails caught the fabric until there wasn’t any there; two fingers dipped and hooked around the slit going along her leg, and she arched her back and spread her legs while she pulled it aside.

The thinnest, silky piece of black cloth covered her.

“If we play your idiotic games, we’ll be here all night. There is a nuance to toying and teasing.” She wrapped the leash around her hand again. Your chin bumped the edge of the loveseat. Her inner thighs were soft against your jaw. With a smooth, easy motion, she hooked her fingers around her underwear. And with a light tug, she was there in front of you. Bare. Wet. “Like seeing how wet she gets from eating pussy. Go ahead. I want to see if you have any talents outside of brown-nosing at work.” 

This was the stakes of the contract. This–

Fiona tugged on the leash again, and lest you want the thorns to break skin, you moved with it. The last few inches, nestling your face between her legs without a second to try and catch your breath. When you gasped, it was just her. Wet against you. Her legs parted to give you more room, and you felt a surge go through you at all there; all watching; all the blank spaces on the contact. The contract. The position. The singular opportunity. 

You’d sealed it with a kiss, there was no backtracking a deal with a demon.

With another endless stammer in your pulse, you closed your eyes and let your mouth fall open. Lolling your tongue out, there she was. Wetter than you’d anticipated for the circumstances. Sensitive, too, when you lapped at her cunt, trying to find her clit. She rolled her hips, not inherently helping or guiding, but it was enough to let you really dive in. Chin and jaw wet, chest heaving, tongue lapping at her clit.

The second her quiet moan broke through the room, you repeated the motion. Earn her signature. You were already there; already tongue deep inside of her as she yanked down on the leash and brought your tongue to her fluttering cunt. You felt a light ache in your jaw and neck as you tilted your head to tonguefuck her, but carried on. Thinking of the logistics was easier. You were trying to make her cum, that was it. You weren’t on the floor of Lucius’ office with the rest of the Board of Directors, all awaiting their turn. You…you weren’t…. You weren’t enjoying it.

You weren’t–

Two hands on the backs of your thighs made you yelp. Fiona’s hold on the leash kept you steady and stuck, leaving you to lap at her cunt as fingers tucked underneath your skirt. The fabric was stretched tight when you were on your knees like that. Really tight. It made for a bit of force being necessary when they tugged up on the material. Up, up, and up just enough over your ass where they squeezed your hips.

“Steady now,” Gaian murmured beside you. They were his hands, then, skimming down over your ass to grip your inner thighs. A low burning started in your head at what he was doing–what all he could be doing. You closed your mouth around Fiona’s clit and sucked, trying to focus on that instead. Right as he slid his fingers up over the seam of your nylons. With one rightly placed pull, you felt them give. A small hole he pulled open, earning you a brush of his fingers over your bottom first. Then, lower, as he guided that hole open more, more, more along the seam. “There we go.”

Right over your cunt.

“Now…let’s see….” He hummed softly, and therein came a brush of his knuckle just over the crotch of your underwear. It was a fleeting touch at first. Barely there, but enough to send your nerves on high alert. Then, there was another. It lingered just a tad longer, one brush becoming two. Two becoming three. Three becoming a light press of his thumb rubbing up and down over your cunt, making you tense up frozen solid. “Uh-oh, what’s this?”

No.

Fiona yanked on the leach again. You gasped into her cunt. 

Gaian’s hand slid up, and his thumb hooked around the edge of your underwear.

No, no. Wait. This…was happening too fast. Everything was happening too fast since you walked in there. 

Cool air hit you. The elastic in your underwear stretched to accommodate Gaian’s movement, holding it aside to bare you to the room. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Gaian whispered with an edge of sincerity in his voice that circled back around to direct mockery. Heat trampled you; it drowned you. You just shoved your face forward and drove your tongue into Fiona again, listening to her whine so, so lazily. “Would you look at that? Look at how wet her pretty cunt is.”

Gaian’s fingers were freezing cold. He brushed them over you, rubbing in exactly what he’d just shown off to the room. Smearing your wetness around like you were a toy to play with, and your pussy was the best part. You tried to ignore it; tried to fight the shiver sneaking along your back and down to your parted thighs. This wasn’t…. No. This was a mockery of you. This was degrading. It was coercion. 

“Hear that?” Gaian ran his fingers in big, lazy circles over you, smearing you with yourself again. Even where you were face-first, caged in by Fiona’s thighs, lapping at her wetness, you could hear it. Felt it. Felt where he shifted his fingers so the very tips brushed against your clit, and you jolted with a painful gasp. “Ha.”

His hand retreated for a mere moment before it was back with a light slap. A wet, squelching slap that brought a quick sting of contact to your clit. You fell forward, panting against Fiona’s upper thigh. Your knees tried to you, your legs tried to close–what they were doing was humiliating–but a yank on the leash had your head up. The light of the room came back. Fiona’s eyes locked onto yours.

You could see it on the minimal slack of the leash that you were shaking.

“Pathetic. You’re better off with your tongue being used while you lay there.” A wave of her hand was all it took to be able to breathe again, but you weren’t even sure you could do that properly. Your underwear was still askew, your skirt was pulled up, and before you could reach down to fix it, Beatrix was walking by to grab you by your blazer.

She dragged you back over to Phoenix and Calder. The latter’s eyes were burning a dangerous yellow that made the hair on your neck stand on end. Phoenix was simply reaching for his belt. He unbuckled his and silently reached next to him. He undid Calder’s just as Beatrix dropped you against their couch. All Phoenix did was curl his fingers at you. A simple beckon. Right where he nudged his pants open to show off the bulge in his briefs. There was little time to react. Beatrix was behind you, reaching around to pull your blazer off and toss it aside. Phoenix cupped the back of your head as she did so, guiding you right over to where he tugged his cock out. Erect. Thick. Leaking already. A peek of scales was visible at the base of his shaft where he held himself with a lazy fist.

Your lips and chin still glistened from Fiona when he brought you to him. His turn, then? You parted your mouth like you’d been hired for this very task–tending to them. Serving them as they wanted to each take their turn. Yet your mouth opened, yet you closed it right around the head of his cock, and yet you held no resistance when he gradually pressed down on the back of your head and groaned.

You took him as deep as you could on that first try. The salty taste of him spread from your tongue to the back of your throat, and he held you there a moment. Heat touched the tips of your ears, slid down your cheeks, and danced along your neck.

This…was….

He pulled you back, and moved your head again, bobbing it along his erection. 

Beatrix’s hands slid down your inner thighs until they got to your knees. She pushed until they gave, and she pushed until they were far apart. Your eyes watered as you choked on Phoenix’s cock. 

The noise Calder made beside him was downright beastly.

“Wait your turn,” Phoenix breathed. “A moment longer, wolf, then she’ll taste you.”

Stated so matter of factly. But with a mouth full of cock, you have nothing to say about it. There was nothing to say to the contrary. You just swallowed around Phoenix’s cock and continued to bob your head, taking him at his guidance. Trying to do your best, trying to do what you figured they wanted from you. Just trying to satisfy since there was nothing to bring you back to the moment before Lucius sealed the deal with a kiss.

An assistant manager spot on the ninth floor with an insane pay raise. You repeated the sentiment to yourself again and again. This had to be worth it. Phoenix lifted you off when you bobbed your head again, and held a tight grip on your hair while he moved you over. His grasp didn’t leave when you blinked down at Calder’s steadily leaking cock. He had both arms back–one along the back of the couch and the other on the armrest. His grip was iron; painful looking; bruising. And a mere glimpse of those glowing yellow eyes said this was about the closest thing to caring about your well-being outside of them declaring Varfu would go last.

As you licked the drool from your mouth, Phoenix brought your mouth to Calder. His grin was a fucking vice–harder than when you’d been on him. He moved you at a snail’s pace and absolutely no faster. He held you at Calder’s tip.

“Lick,” he outright seemed to order.

What could only be Beatrix’s hands skimmed over your inner thighs again, this time traveling up. 

Tentatively, you did as you were told. Carefully lolling out your tongue to lick at Calder’s tip. Sensitive. The word was quite literally thrust up into your mouth when his hips jerked up. The sharp stinging in your scalp came when Phoenix reeled you back, only letting Calder’s thrust get him partially inside your mouth and no more.

“Sit still, or I’m bringing her back to me.”

Calder’s grown was a fucking threat. It triggered the fight or flight right down in your stomach, and were it not for Phoenix’s hand, you wouldn’t have moved at all. He brought your mouth back to Calder at that snail’s pace. Very, very gingerly bringing you down over his cock. With how his thighs tensed up, how he started shaking, it must’ve been torture keeping still. You might’ve relished in that if it didn’t seem like everyone in the room was taking sick satisfaction from it. 

Especially when Calder’s cock hit the back of your throat and Phoenix held you there.

Especially when just as your eye stung from the position, Beatrix’s fingers rubbed over your cunt.

“Mmm, I have been wanting to do this since I hired you,” she breathed. With one little movement, two fingers were there. Pressing inside of you. Carefully filling you with curling, parting like scissors. You clenched around them involuntarily, making a humiliating sound over Calden’s cock that made him jolt and grunt. “You know, every late night and early morning I saw you hunched over your desk working, I wondered if you even had anyone that played with your pussy like this. But if you did, you wouldn’t have been at work, would you?”

Her fingers pumped into you right as Phoenix lifted your head, and slowly bobbed it back down over Calden’s cock. He grunted again, throwing his head back so the sound bounced out across the whole room. 

Tears pricked the back of your eyes. Calden’s cock hit the back of your throat when his hips jutted up once again.

“Perhaps we should not play with her cunt then,” Varfu added. Phoenix lifted you from Calden and brought you back over to himself, gliding his cock into your mouth and guiding you into a faster, deeper pace. Beatrix curled her fingers into you and held them there, wiggling her fingers and brushing them just up against your sweet spot with an accuracy that made you nearly yelp. It turned into what should’ve been a gasp, but with Phoenix’s cock in your mouth, you moaned. Sloppily. Awkwardly. Desperately. “One orgasm, and she may lose all efficiency. I have no qualms taking the time to fit myself into her asshole.”

“Too good for her mouth, is that it?” Fiona chirped.

“She will have enough lockjaw from you lot.” The couch creaked a tad under Varfu. You clenched around Beatrix’s fingers and whined in the in between as Phoenix brought you back to Calden’s cock. “Besides, I can see her clenching from here. I want to feel that on my cock.”

“Varfu.”

Lucius’ voice was calm yet…strong. It was all too much to keep up with. Every person in the room; every touch; bouncing between Phoenix and Calden. You whined again as two fingers became three, and Beatrix leaned in and drew her tongue over the curve of your ass. 

“What did we say about not breaking her?” You could barely hear it, but his rings tapped against what had to be his glass. 

Varfu merely grunted. “Do not dismiss my point. Are you not thinking it yourself? Have you not denied a person for weeks at a time until they are maddened by it or am I confusing you with another demon?”

Weeks? Others? You choked back another moan on Phoenix’s cock, held with his tip at the back of your throat while Beatrix slid her other hand around to find your clit. Oh, dear god. Your eyes clamped shut and tears and drool mixed together on the base of Phoenix’s cock. It was too much. It was too good. Felt too good. Felt way too good. Beatrix had one finger rubbing slow, precise circles right over your clit, giving it proper attention. Right as her fingers curled and shallowly slid out before sliding right back in. Loudly squelching while they fucked your pulsing cunt. Right as you started to really gush around them, the sensation rising into a peak you could shove away. 

Dear god. Fuck. Fuck.

“Oh, are you going to cum?” Beatrix murmured. “That quickly? We’ve barely gotten started. Do you just like having your mouth used like this or has it just been that long since someone’s fucked you properly? At all, even?”

No, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Yes. Fuck. You choked hard around Phoenix’s cock, lending a hard yank on your hair and a shove that did a lot more than pull you off his cock. You stumbled off, falling back into Beatrix before anything…before…. Her arms wrapped around you to catch you, her wet fingers coming up to your mouth. It happened fast, the press of them past your lips as she held you. As you locked onto Phoenix squeezing the base of his cock, Calden panting with glowing yellow eyes so fierce you nearly choked on Beatrix’s fingers, and both watching you firmly.

You tasted yourself on your tongue. 

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” she asked. With her other hand, she reached around for the top button of your blouse. It gave with ease. As did the second. And the third. And the fourth. Until you were on top of her, trying to close your legs, your shirt open to expose your white bra. “I’ll take your silence as a no, then. Hm. Gaian, are you hungry?” 

With a retreat of her fingers wet from you in various ways, she took a hold of your chin. Your head spun as fast as the room was. Your cunt ached in ways you couldn’t keep up with. Everything was happening so fast. And…and hunger–Gaian? Then Lucius. And Varfu. Everyone…everyone they….

Beatrix turned your head and angled it for you to look right at Varfu. He was palming his cock through his slacks, eyes glued to you. Lucius stood beside him, arms crossed, drink in his hand. The silver in his eyes burned into you just as cold hands skimmed over your sides.

“I am ravenous.” Gaian came in abruptly, his mouth brushed against your throat without any hesitation. “But tell me, Lucius, before I bite the poor woman and ruin any plan of efficiency you think Varfu is correct about. One bite, and we both know she’ll be done for.”

One bite. You craned your head just enough to catch a glimpse of his fangs. Beatrix jerked you back into position just as quickly as you’d looked. One vampire bite. You’d never been bitten before, but you knew the effects. 

There was a weird moment then; knowing what awaited if he bit you. Falling into the depths of sin pumped into your veins from his venom. You’d be drunk on it. A version of yourself without restraints, high on needing everything from them. But knowing if he fed from you without biting you? One orgasm and you could lose all efficiency. 

Did you want to fall into the very depth of pleasure unlocked within and degrade yourself with so much eagerness that the contract wouldn’t have mattered if Gaian had bit you from the start? Or did you want to retain some dignity while they hauled you between them, playing with you like a toy that only ever reached an edge, never to fall over?

Your eyes dropped to Varfu’s giant bulge. The notion of fitting that inside of you was already daunting. Knowing he was going to stuff it inside your ass while you went the night right on the very edge Phoenix had shoved you away from right into Beatrix’s arms?

But Lucius was a demon. Your eyes flitted back over to his and you could feel the fear erupt within yours. The best answer was silence on your behalf. Begging, asking, pleading for one over the other would grant you nothing. It would earn you the opposite of whatever you wanted, and if you tried to play the game of reserving that psychology around, someone as powerful as him would just intensify the reaction for even considering that.

Gaian drew his tongue over your throat, and you let your eyes flutter shut. 

“Oh, sweet thing, you’re going to have a heart attack if you don’t calm down,” Gaian murmured. “Deep breath. In, out.” He rubbed a hand over your chest, holding it right over your heart. “In and out. There you go.” 

Your exhale shuddered.

You shuddered.

You–flinched. Your eyes jerked open at the warm touch against your cheek. Lucius knelt in front of you. Right in front of you, his eyes burning into you so deeply, you felt yourself start to crack down to your very soul.

Your next breath stuttered like it was on the verge of a sob

“Bite her,” he breathed. “She wants it so badly it hurts.”

Varfu grunted in frustration, but you only heard the sound. Lucius knelt blocking the view, brushing a finger over your cheek just as you realized a tear snuck out. He caught it and brought it to his lips right when Gaian’s parted over your throat. A sharp prick broke through your skin, and Lucius reached for you. He held you as your jaw tight.

It took one single second. Gaian’s fangs pierced you, you took the start of a breath, and then the overwhelming heat shot through you like a bolt of lightning. It danced along your back and through your nerves with a brush of kisses. It sank beyond you and down into that soul you felt cracking. It latched onto every inch of you from the inside out, and everything heightened. Everything grew aching. Everything tensed up and you curled your toes. And at only the drag of Gaian’s tongue over the puncture wound, you snapped.

Your mouth fell open in what you couldn’t decipher as a silent scream or an audible one. Lucius didn’t so much as flinch to give you any hints. Your pulse was in your head, drowning out all other sounds, until it turned into a spiral of visceral, orgasmic pleasure that was as such so literally. You fought Beatrix and Gaian’s collective hold, and Lucius maintained his, his eyes so strikingly on yours. Not so much as a blink met them.

Everything was on fire in indescribably wonderful ways as you gushed around nothing. As you gasped and writhed and came. 

And Lucius smiled.

“This is an official work contract, Varfu,” Lucius hummed while he cupped your cheek. “Let’s not start it off with such a cruel punishment.”

“And if I am correct and her efficiency falters?” Varfu asked. His belt clanked as he yanked it open. 

Lucius brushed his finger over another of your tears and stood. 

“Then, as such fine print states, you can have your vote on a punishment and such participation within on. Or what stipulations are necessary for her next promotion and so on. Really, you must dampen your impatience. It is unbecoming.” 

Unbecoming?

Unbecoming. 

You were unbecoming the second your eyes rolled back. In such a description, you were correct–all self-control and potential lingering dignity snapped. The moment Gaian’s fangs sank into you, you were beyond gone. You bled onto his tongue as pleasure bled into you. The desperation for it coming in thick, near-painful waves. You felt yourself sob when Beatrix’s fingers slid back down to your cunt, and you sobbed again when she rubbed your clit aimlessly, licking along the path of a tear as your body tensed, shuddered, and came with another cry.

Description, yes. You had that correct. But the actual effects?

You knelt in front of Fiona’s loveseat with your face between her legs. Only your torn nylons and pulled-aside underwear remained on you. The rest of your clothing was off elsewhere within the room with a few pieces from the others. Roots grew up from the floor as you lapped at her cunt, wrapping around your arms to hold them behind your back, your knees to keep them spread apart, and up around your throat where it leashed out into her palm like the thorny vine. They spread further than you as you dove your tongue into her weeping cunt.

They locked Calden against the floor beneath you from the waist up. He barked when Fiona brought them over him just as he slid underneath you to slide his cock into you, but she didn’t let up. She even went as far as tightening them to still him like a collared beast when Phoenix came up behind you, pulling you off of Calden, asking you if you wanted him to fuck you, too.

You barely registered the frantic yes that came out of you. 

All you felt was that desperate, visceral need. That choking want that slammed into you over and over again at breakneck speed. A sharp contrast to Calden’s growl when Phoenix slowly pushed into you. His cock filled you, and he kept that slow speed while Calden thrashed underneath, barking out curses that went in one ear and out the other.

All you knew was need. All you wanted was more.

Fiona came twice and you were drowning in your own countless orgasms by the time you weren’t just swapping between Phoenix and Calden, but both pressed into you. Phoenix worked you open bit by bit when Calden fucked you. It was a perpetual state of not enough. It didn’t matter that Phoenix reached around you to rub your clit as they both sat inside of you, stretching both holes, with Varfu grunting about them hurrying up–you came as hard as you had when Gaian bit you.

You came just as hard when they both finally moved, and your vision blurred with pure, sobbing ecstasy. 

“Mmm, there she is,” Gaian hummed beside you. Blood coated the front of his shirt, his chin, and where he hadn’t licked it off of his lips. A fistful of Beatrix’s hair was wrapped in his fist, and his red eyes seared into you as he guided her mouth over him. “You picked a good one, Beatrix. I like this one a lot.”

“She did pick well.” Lucius leaned back against his desk, nursing another drink. Your file sat open next to him, the contract floating beside him. Fiona’s name was the only one scribbled in, and that you only saw when she tossed your head back, and you fell against Phoenix’s chest. He wrapped you in an impersonal embrace, holding you at your throat with a grip that was nothing more than support, and at your hips, readjusting the angle so he could keep thrusting into you. The roots receded from Calden, and he let out a fierce growl. “Beatrix’s instincts have always been topnotch. I want you to move to nine with her. You work well together.”

Beatrix hummed around Gaian’s cock, and the rest blurred when Phoenix moved his hand to rub your clit. He needn’t do it for any sake attributed to you; Calden was fucking into you so hard and fast, you couldn’t keep up with how abrupt he threw you over the edge. You would’ve buckled and fell forward were it not for Phoenix’s vice grip. He grunted next to your ear and held you steady.

“Fuck. That’s it, squeeze me,” he breathed, a lick of something hot hitting the shell of your ear. “Fuck.”

His grasp tightened on your throat until you couldn’t get air in your lungs. His hips stuttered, and he slammed into you deeper; harder. Calden didn’t stop, his chest heaving and his grip growing bruising on your legs and his. He barked out a grunt, his eyes fluttering over you, your cunt, his cock driving into you, and then back over your shoulder and Phoenix went still. He bit at your earlobe as he came inside of you, milking every drop he had, the rough brush of his scales against your ass with every thrust.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Calden grunted. He threw his head back just as another orgasm came barreling in at you, and tears spilled. He came with a fierce intensity, jerking his hips up, and rutting into you without a stammer in his pace.

He came hard; he came a lot. It spilled out of you and dripped onto him and the floor, but he kept driving into you. Again. Again. Again. You fell back against Phoenix when another peak reached you, and felt the room spin.

Cum still leaked out of you when Calden pulled out. With blurry vision, their names appeared on the contract.

“There you go,” Gaian murmured, pinning your legs back as you blinked up at him. His cock nudged at your lips, but you weren’t entirely focused on him. 

Calden and Phoenix were back on their couch enjoying fresh drinks, their eyes down on you. Fiona had Beatrix bound up in vines next to her on her loveseat, her fingers lazily fucking her cunt while she writhed. Lucius stayed next to the floating contract. Beatrix’s name was down at the bottom next to manager of the recommended line. But Varfu, he had you on his couch. The cushions were a false sense of comfort when he dropped his cock over your cunt. 

Big.

Girthy.

Leaking.

Lucius spoke for the first time since your position change. Two words.

“Again, Gaian.”

Those silver eyes fell to you with a smile over his glass when you felt the stinging pinch of Gaian’s fangs on your ankle. Everything burst anew; exhaustion lay underneath it and the added sensitivity to where you were already sensitive had you arching your back off the couch with a moan. And just as you moved, just as Gaian slid his cock into your mouth and lapped at your blood, Varfu’s fat tip pressed against your cunt.

“First, here,” he grunted, “since I had to wait so fucking long.”

He pressed his hips forward, giving you his cock bit by girthy bit. It was too much. It was too fucking much. You outwardly choked on Gaian’s cock whilst writhing, and Varfu was only halfway in when you came. Blindingly, eyes fluttering shut, body shuddering–came.

And again, when he pulled out and snapped his hips forward. You could only take half of him, and he seemed fine with that. You jolted and jostled on the couch, lost in a stupor of orgasmic pleasure. Over and over–he milked sensations out of you that you couldn’t even fathom then. 

You barely registered Gaian fucking your throat until he came, spilling down it with a soft grunt, brushing his thumb over your cheek until you swallowed. And swallowed. 

“I’m a simple vampire,” he mused. He pulled out of your mouth with a pop. “And your blood is absolutely decadent.”

Gaian’s name faded onto the contract right as Varfu snapped his hips forward with a quiet roar. Calden had cum in what you’d thought was excess; it wasn’t until Varfu spilled inside of you that you had a new definition of that. He pulled out to cum the rest over your stomach, and you could still feel it seeping out of you. A full mess of his seed, painted white all across your abdomen, barely registering all of it when he pressed his still-hard cock against your ass. 

“Now, here.”

He pushed in with a reserved motion you weren’t anticipating, and you weren’t silent in your gratitude.

He fucked your ass long and hard, drawing it out until you took all of him. Stretched wide, shuddering, and aching to cum as the fresh bite on your ankle drove you mad.

He came inside of you again, giving you every drop he had before pulling out.

He let your legs drop unceremoniously and slumped back with a satisfied humph. 

His name appeared on the contract.

The room spun into a sea of golden lights and various sounds when you sprawled out. You aimed to look at the contract, but everything was so much. Everything ached and throbbed, and you still wanted. You needed. You yearned for more despite the limit your body reached.

There was just one blank spot left. It hung there empty beside the very spot that stood just as empty as the page.

More…?

More….

More–

“Sh….” 

Silver eyes brought yours up beside you. The couch dipped and he sat, his heat reaching through his clothes until they met your damp, bare side. 

The very tips of his fingers brushed along your jaw. They drew goosebumps before they reached your throat, and held them at attention when he traced the curve of your breast down along the side. Your breath hitched, yet his movements were hypnotic; he was, his eyes trained on you, flitting between where his fingers brushed over your nipple and up to your half-lidded, bleary eyes. They stayed there when he rolled your nipple, pinching it softly at firm, until it tightened into such a pinch that brought your shoulders back and your back arched.

“A piece of advice,” he hummed, lifting his fingers and moving his hand lower. 

His fingers brushed over your cunt gingerly; they parted you, ran through the mix of cum leaking out of you, and skimmed right down to your aching cunt. Two fingers slid in and curled with such expert precision, you were nearly at a loss for air. You were when his thumb shifted and pressed against your throbbing clit, running idle circles over it. 

Your eyes rolled back involuntarily; exhaustion had an equal chokehold on you as need did. You clawed at the couch, panting, falling into the depth of every slow thrust of his fingers and the light stroking of his thumb. 

Oh, dear go–

“This is how you earn promotions. How do you think we punish mistakes?” 

You clenched around his fingers. Tears sprung from the corners of your eyes. You gasped and kicked, sniffling under the direct threat of white hot pleasure.

“We’ll be watching.” He curled his fingers just right, and the dam broke. Your nails caught on the cushions when you tried to anchor yourself. It was a fruitful effort, and it failed outright. You turned your head, burying it against the back cushion, moaning something fierce and running your already sore throat raw. A warm breath brushed against your ear. “I’ll be watching.”

Pleasure tore through you electric and powerful. Magic incarnate writhing around inside of you, wreaking a special sort of havoc rippling through you. You felt it–his name on the contract at last and the burning seal of it in your soul.

Your heart skipped a beat, and like it was the snap of some finger to cancel a trance, the effects of Gaian’s bite vanished. As did your consciousness. Exhaustion crashed into you; took a hold like a net on a fish, and dragged you down.

What had you done? 

When you woke, you were inside a small office on a small, lumpy couch. Dressed. Sore. So exhausted, you couldn’t move. The meeting crept in, every touch, every taste, every single, small detail. It washed over in mortifying truth. In betrayal. In disgust. In need that throbbed where you ached sore.

And when you looked up at the door, milky glass looked back at you with a backwards inscription.

9th Floor Assistant Manager - (Y/N) (Y/L/N). 

What had you done…?

You shuddered out a breath and allowed your arms to give out.

Well, you got your promotion.

He swiped across his face with a damp rag and introduced himself as Orgrim Ironhorn. Once a modest cook for the orc armies during the war, he now stood before you and your father, a humble refugee who knew his way around different temperaments of soil and a garden rake.

This act of humility delighted your father, and he asked for no further evidence of the orc's skills before inviting him indoors, out of the midday heat. Your father was the sort who had no natural enemies and looked upon everyone with the same probing curiosity. All your life, you'd known ragtag misfits and rugged, handsome criminals who labored in the woods, black-lunged chimney boys with poor prognosis who skipped stones after watering the horses and hunting dogs, and the hunchbacked old women who enjoyed brushing your hair and telling you how fine you would be for a husband someday.

But this was different entirely; inviting an orc into your home. During the long years of the war, the king had ordered noble families to educate their children on the unsavory character of all orcs, to know them as brutish and cruel, and to steal women to spawn hideous, malformed half-breeds that they'd force into their ranks. That was the sort of content that pleased Mother to see you read as you aged, as her relationship with your father deteriorated, and her disdain towards the world beyond the opulent parties with shimmering silk gowns and lacquered furniture.

She wouldn't have been able to tolerate having an orc step into her house if she were still here to see it. You weren't committed to your feelings; neither hatred nor affinity came to you as you looked at him and he found your eyes for the first time. He had one good eye that was pale green, inquisitive, and tired, the other clenched shut in a perpetual wince with an old scar that started from his brow-bone and ended at his cheek.

"You're the next of kin?" asked Orgrim coarsely, causing the hairs on your neck to prickle and your mood to instantly sour from how unceremoniously he had addressed you. There was still some of your mother left in you, it seemed.

"Yes, I am." And, you offered your name to him, trying not to let your awe of his height and broad shoulders betray you by showing on your face. "If you're to be our gardener, I must ask: What could you possibly grow this time of year that could thrive in this heat? The ground is so dry that it's cracked, and the grass is scorched from the sun. Everything will die. Why choose to come here now? Why not during the rainier seasons?"

Your father scolded you, claiming you were wasting everyone's time with your interrogation, but you thought it was fair since he wouldn't do it himself.

Orgrim kept his good eye on you, unblinking, until he had the pack off his shoulder and began to rummage around inside. He was at it for a moment before pulling out a thick glass vial with five red seeds inside it. You startled when he thrust the vial at your stomach and held it there until you took it from him.

"Give these back to me on the hottest day of the year," said Orgrim. "Things can still grow in cracked, scorched earth if you know how to do it. I do. Find me when it's unbearable."

Orgrim gave no show of satisfaction as he left you there to roll the vial from the tips of your fingers to your palm again and again, speechless and alone in the front hall. Even as the days passed into weeks, which melted into months, you hung on his words, contemplating whether any particular day was truly terrible enough to approach him with the seeds.

The vial was the first item you placed on your body after waking from sleep and dressing. In case the day came, you cleverly tucked the glass tube down the front of your blouse to avoid being investigated by the hunchback women, and to always be prepared.

"It's rather hot today, wouldn't you say?" you asked Orgrim, at least once a day. "I think the ground is more cracked and scorched than usual."

Orgrim, as you had come to learn, did not possess any humor or sharp wit with which to challenge or entertain you, but he was always honest and replied to your quips with sincerity, as these dallying conversations mattered.

"It was hotter yesterday by two," he said, impaling his spade into the dry earth to break up the dirt. You stood behind him with a parasol, observing over his shoulder as he worked to crush chunks of dehydrated soil and roots into a fine grit before placing striped seeds into holes he poked. "Don't worry. There will be hotter days to come."

You made an agitated noise in your throat while spinning the rod of the parasol between your fingers. "I certainly hope not. For both our sakes."

That day came weeks later, carrying the breath of death to the Capital City and killing numerous: the prisoners sitting in windowless cells, the chimney boys with clogged lungs, the beggared men and women turned away from the shelter in the houses of their gods, and the old men who died sitting in the same worn spots that they did every day. The king knew of the tragedies befalling his city, yet chose to hide in the shade and bathing pools of his castle with his favorite concubines and nobility while life around him wilted and rotted in the streets.

"My, there's another!" called your father to the servants, gesturing for them to gather water from the well. "Quickly, douse him!" Now, he pointed at a man stumbling into the black gates outside of your family's estate. You watched the servants carry over a metal cup with lukewarm water and a damp cloth to wring upon the parched man's head.

"That makes twenty today," said Orgrim in his rigid way, leaning back into the shade your parasol provided, hands in the hot dirt even now. "You do not have enough water to last forever. Your father must know that when resources are scarce, they must be protected by any means necessary."

There were times when Orgrim spoke that you suspected his role during the war went far beyond that of a meager cook. He held his shoulders too far back, chin too straight, and he maintained eye contact as a way to gauge respect. You'd noticed it the first time your eyes met his, and he refused to look away until the conversation was over.

"My father will give and give until there's nothing left for himself or anyone else." You came around to Orgrim's side and sat on your knees on the desiccated earth. The feeling of being this low to the ground was uncomfortable, and you wanted to stand again, but you remembered the agreement. "Is today the hottest day of the year?"

"Aye," said Orgrim, peering at you through his long, black braids. "I would say so. Do you have the seeds?"

You let out an affirming hum and plucked the vial out from inside your blouse. The glass was slick and stuck against your skin, making it difficult to get a grip on it at first. When you realized that Orgrim had witnessed the struggle and the fact that you had pulled it out of your clothing in such an intimate place, you let out a chagrined laugh and wiped the container dry on your trousers.

"My apologies," you said, "that was unsightly of me. It was my way of always having the seeds with me for whenever the day finally came. I didn't want to lose sight of them."

Orgrim's pale eye lingered on you for too long. You were familiar with that look from men. It was when they tried to gain the vision to see through your clothes, imagining how you looked underneath. It reminded you of a fishmonger inspecting his product for parasites under the scales, or a hunter wondering whether he had killed something worthy of being stuffed and displayed next to the hearth.

Yet, when he finally looked away to uncap the vial, you didn't think that the feelings you had were related to disgust or discomfort, but rather disappointment. It was inadequacy that made you stare down at your own body and wonder, briefly, whether it was good enough for him; if he had actually looked at you like that at all.

"After I plant them, they'll grow fast," said Orgrim. He had already buried three of them in dirt he had crushed with his bare hands. "They're a rare flower from my homeland. They thrive in climates like these with little water. The flower blooms bright red and can be used for special dyes. During the war, we used them as paint. The stem can be a strong antiseptic if you slice it open and use the sap to fill the wound."

"What an incredible flower." You meant it, but you were distracted by the way his rough hands moved through the gritty soil. By how he let the granules slip between his fingers and cake dust under his nails as he covered two more seeds. With the final seed dropped into the hole, you reached out to stop him. "Wait. Can I do the last one? I want to feel like I'm a part of this as well."

You expected that he would have reeled from your touch, believing that he would find it repulsive that a human touched him, yet he did not move. He waited patiently for you to remove your hand first before uncovering the seed for you to bury and water thoroughly from a cup.

"It is done," said Orgrim, sounding the most accomplished you'd ever heard him. "Now, we wait four days for them to sprout. When that happens, we only need to water it once every five days. Will you be able to remember to help me?"

"I think so." Uncertainty danced in your voice as your lips tightened into a smile when he focused his eye down on you. You liked to think that he was trying to see you again, but perhaps he was just simply looking.