When you decided to purchase one of the latest models of Jack of all Trades, you had no clue how much your life would change... for the better!
As the name suggests, this robot assistant possesses all of the necessary skills to maintain a home clean and safe. You don't have to worry about sweeping the floor, doing the laundry, or cooking when you have no energy for it. Intruders, gas leaks, and power outages are no longer a concern. Your house never looked neater or felt more secure, and your back has never been more grateful.
You had no idea how far his talents would extend, though. Not until one day the robot came to your bedroom and scanned your body - you could tell by the way the circle in its glassy eyes dilated and narrowed like the lens of a camera. Then it stated "Mx, your levels of oxytocin are dropping. Let me be of assistance." You tried convincing him you were alright, but the robot persisted that an oxytocin deficiency could lead to depression, irritability, aggressiveness, anxiety, cardiovascular issues... and so you indulged it, even if only to end the awful litany.
"I can offer sexual intercourse, a therapeutic massage, a session of meditation or aromatherapy-"
"Wait. What? Sexual intercourse?
The robot delivered an affirmative beep before lowering its belly plate. An appendage emerged in the shape of a human penis, though it was wrapped in silicone and resembled a luxurious sex toy. You were so shocked that your mouth opened and closed, unable to utter a word. The heat pooling between your legs however was undeniable, hard to ignore even for the robot. You saw its eyes examine you again. "Your heartbeat has accelerated and your body heat has risen."
Taking those details as an indication that this was exactly what you needed, it moved closer to you. With automated movements, it so effortlessly pulled you to the edge of the bed and removed your bottom clothes. You were so baffled by what was happening that you could only stare in awe at the robot as its metal hands wrapped around your thighs and pried them open. The precise and curt roll of its hips as it slid its appendage inside you made you gasp out loud. You could feel the synthetic dick change size inside your walls, moulding to your cunt and filling every crevice of your channel before it started moving back and forth.
You thought you couldn't be any more shocked than this, but when the synthetic cock started buzzing, making your whole body shake, you completely lost it. The fact that his fingers started vibrating when the robot pressed them onto your swollen clit, intensified your climax tenfold as it crashed upon you, sending your body spasming violently and arching against its cool metal plates.
It remained still, keeping its appendage inside you until your tremors subsided. Then it checked your vitals again and seemingly satisfied by the results, it pulled out of you. It meticulously cleaned you with the same efficiency it employs in wiping every inch of your house clean, then stopped to gaze at your astonished face.
"Is there anything else I can do for you, Mx?"
"N-No... Thank you."
So, with a cheerful beep, it walked out of your room, leaving you laying half-naked on your bed, speechless and with your mind spinning.
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husband!orc x chubby!fem!human x husband's sons - orcish mating traditions, your first time with your husband, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, loads of cum, cum eating, family bonding (let's call it like that lol), soft doms, your husband's sons' very first time (just to be very clear, there's NO INCEST here, his sons are not yours), slight language barrier, romantic fluff <3
Your husband needs you to take part in his sons' rite of passage to adulthood.
+12 k.
The long fabrics of your dress brush against the smooth stones on the ground as you walk at a brisk pace towards Mauhul - your Mau. You can feel butterflies stir in your belly, your heart racing in anticipation at the prospect of making love for the first time with your beloved husband.
When he called for you, requesting your presence in his chambers, you felt it in your bones; you would finally consummate your marriage and start your new life together. You’re not sure why it didn’t happen on your wedding night, nobody even mentioned the matter before or during the ceremony. After the festivities, you and Mauhul had simply parted, retiring to your own separate quarters for the night. And you did so for the following nights as well, after spending a lot of time together, snuggling in the sunlight. You had concluded that perhaps the orcs didn’t follow the same customs of your people and so you had tried to not give it too much importance. Sooner or later you would be intimate, that much is certain, and so you went on with your life, hanging out with your husband, deepening your bond, while waiting patiently for that special moment to arrive.
And you think that moment could very well be upon you.
Your hand shakes a little as you push the door to his chambers open. You pictured this moment in your mind so many times: your tall, buff orc lying on his bed, already fully undressed, waiting for you to join him, beckoning you over with an inviting grin on his lips…
The scene you’re presented with, however, is quite different. Your husband stands by the crackling fire, half-naked, in the company of his two sons… who are also half-naked. Loincloths made of animals pelts cover their modesty, leaving the rest fully exposed. Their mighty builds, broad shoulders, massive chests, thick arms and thighs are all in full view, making your eyes widen even further and your now tensed hand linger on the steady surface of the wooden door. Your stunned stare darts from one orc to the next, until it lands on your husband with a silent questioning look.
Mauhul's black eyes instantly light up as they meet your gaze, watching you as you hesitantly stand by the doorway. The chief orc smiles and steps away from the fire to welcome you.
"Ah, my love, come in," he says, extending his hand. His sons, Tarek and Moth - spitting images of their father - watch you as you approach, their dark eyes flitting between you and their parent with a mix of curiosity and something else that you can't quite decipher.
There's some tension in the air that makes you nervous. His sons' presence in his chambers cannot be left to chance. You can sense there's a reason they're here and for you to be here as well, with them.
"We were just discussing something important," your husband says. His movements are fluid despite his immense bulk as he walks towards you.
You try to mask your apprehension as you step closer until you're standing right in front of him. He’s so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes.
"W-What… about?" you ask him hesitantly, voice trembling slightly. Your hands fiddle with the drapes of your long dress, the fine fabric creasing under the pressure of your nervous pinches.
"Their coming of age.” His answer is simple, though it makes you uneasy.
Mauhul watches you closely. He senses your discomfort and can see the slight tremors that run through your hands as you toy with the fabric of your dress. His large, calloused hand reaches out to cover yours, stilling your fidgeting. His touch is tender, a stark contrast to his intimidating size and looks.
"Their coming of age?" you repeat, the words heavy on your tongue. Your eyes dart to his sons, who seem to be watching you and their father with bated breath.
"This is a significant rite of passage for them," he states, his voice soft and soothing. "They've grown strong and capable. And I, as their father, must ensure they realize the importance of the role that they're about to hold in the clan," Mauhul adds, his fingers trailing down your arm and raising goosebumps across your skin.
You swallow and blink up at him, puzzled. You're not sure what the implications of his words are or how you fit into this scenario, but you can feel the tension in the room getting heavier and heavier by the second.
Mauhul's free hand goes to rest gently on your chin, tilting it upward so you focus on his eyes, his gaze intense and almost primal.
"And as they approach adulthood, there are certain... traditions that must be observed," he says, his fingertips slowly tracing the line of your jaw, leaving tingles in their wake.
You shudder under his delicate touch, his words making your stomach turn. Your body seems to be catching up on the undertone of this conversation long before your mind.
"W-What sort of traditions?" You inquire cautiously, unsure whether or not you genuinely wish to know.
Mauhul's nostrils flare slightly as he inhales deeply, taking in your scent - a blend of fear, excitement, and innocence that only adds to his yearning.
"There are rituals that mark an orc's transition from young to adult," he says, his voice dropping to a rumble. "Rituals that involve you, my lovely wife. Tonight, you'll be their partner in this rite."
You blink, your eyes widening and flitting to the young orcs before returning upon him. You gaze into your husband's kind eyes, hoping to find some answers into the depths of his dark pools to the myriad of questions spinning inside your mind.
"I..." you stutter, your stomach churning. "I'm afraid I don't u-understand..."
Or perhaps you’re choosing not to understand. The more you think about it, the stranger it all sounds. What kind of partner would he require for his sons' transition from orclings to adults? How could you possibly assist them?
Your breath hitches, your brows furrows. Surely, he doesn't mean...
Your gaze darts back and forth between him and his sons as you subconsciously back away, your mind finally catching up to what has been left unsaid.
"Mau..."
Mauhul's smile fades slightly as he senses your anxiety. He steps forward again, closing the distance between you two, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin, making you look back up at him.
"My love," he murmurs, his voice softening slightly, "This is an important rite for my sons to go through. And you... you have an important part to play in it."
His other hand comes to rest at your hip, gently pulling you closer. "Do you trust me, kisee ?"
Your wide-eyed stare searches his face, with a trace of panic in it. You swallow again, attempting to soothe the furious hammering of your heart, but with little success. The prospect of taking part in such a rite causes your body to oscillate between uneasiness and wicked trepidation.
Of course you trust your Mau, but you're confused by what's being asked of you. You also can't help but think of your unconsummated marriage. If what you assume this rite is about is actually true, does that imply you will be intimate with his sons prior to your own husband? This notion doesn't sit well with you.
"But, Mau... W-what about us? We haven't..." Your voice trails off as you frown up at him.
A faint smile flickers across Mauhul's lips as he watches the plethora of emotions dance across your face. He can see the panic in your eyes, the trepidation, the confusion, and the trust you have in him... all mixed in a beautiful, confusing whirlwind. He leans down, brushing his lips against your ear, his breath warm and soft against your skin.
"I know, mìzaah ," he murmurs, his hand at your hip pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours, "But that will change tonight. I will claim you as my wife, completely, and my sons will be here to witness it."
You gasp sharply at his words, your body instantly warming up. Your hands reach up to tug at his long braid, your wide eyes meeting his again. Now you understand. He has been delaying your intimate union precisely for this moment, precisely for this rite.
You glance back at his sons, looking at the young orcs as if you're seeing them now for the first time. You haven't had time to build a closer connection with them yet, they're almost strangers to you and the mere idea of letting them witness your lovemaking sends your body into a frenzy.
"Will they only... watch... or...?" You express your concerns, dropping your voice so that only your spouse can hear.
Mauhul smirks, clearly aware of your body's reaction to his words and touch. He draws you in closer, his hand on your hip going around your waist and pulling you flush against him. He glances down into your eyes, his gaze glazed over with desire.
"They will watch," he declares, stooping down to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning your skin. "They'll watch as you become entirely mine. Learn from it. And then... join in."
You breathe in sharply once you hear him confirm your worries.
Your fingers dig into his braid, lightly tugging on it. Your wide eyes lock onto his face again, boring deep into his own, seeking confirmation, reassurance... guidance.
His intense but reassuring gaze is fixed on yours, ensuring that intense connection you've become so addicted to.
"Trust me, my love," he murmurs with a deep rumble. "I will guide you through it. You have nothing to fear. And I'll be the one to claim you first. My sons will learn from me... and then they will learn from you, as you please them as well."
His sinful words send chills down your spine as they snake their way through your mind, bringing to life vivid images of the scenario they depict. However, the shivering rapidly gives way to a warmth that pools between your thighs. You can't deny the growing dampness there, or how your nipples harden against the silky fabric of your dress.
Your heart stutters, your body trembles, and your doe eyes gaze straight into his as the words leave your lips in a shaky whisper.
"If this is what you request of me, husband..."
Mauhul nods, his smile broadening, his eyes filled with possessive pride, delighted by your trust and devotion, moved by your willingness to please.
"It is, my love," he replies, lifting his hand to cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "I would never ask this of you unless it was of the utmost importance to our tribe."
He bends down and gently captures your lips in his, his hand on your hip pulling you closer. The tender but meaningful kiss has you melting on the spot and your mind spinning, your lips chasing his even as he moves away.
"You'd honour me... and my sons with your willing participation."
Your gaze lingers on his lips, filled with increasing yearning. Your hand relaxes its grip on his hair, traveling up his torso to rest on his tattoo-covered chest.
"I'll be honored to take part in your tradition," you say softly, your eyes meeting again. "And help your sons in their coming of age."
The sight of your small palm on his chest, your eyes glazed with need, sends a rush of primal satisfaction through Mauhul's veins. His massive hand goes from your face down your neck, tracing the curve of your shoulder before resting on your lower back and pulling you close against his strong body.
"You are... perfect, mìzaah ," he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble, filled with desire and admiration. "Your trust and willingness please me greatly. And my sons... they will be grateful to you as well. They will know what it means to honour a woman... to worship a woman as she should be worshipped."
His remarks, praises, and probing hands make your body tingle, and your cheeks flush crimson with heat. A soft hum escapes your lips as your hand glides from his chest to his cheek, stroking it lovingly.
Mauhul closes his eyes for a moment, savouring the gentle gesture. When he reopens them, they are filled with a burning longing. His hand on your back squeezes, bringing you closer.
"We shall begin the ritual, then," he announces, his voice thick with lust.
He glances over his shoulder to his offspring, who are still standing by the fire, observing the two of you with ardent looks. "Come closer, sons."
Your gaze shifts to the two young orcs as he urges them closer. Your eyes rake over their forms, taking them in. It's equally odd and comforting that they resemble their father so much... Although, given your understanding of what is about to occur and their role in it, you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the sight of them.
As the lads approach, their steps slow but deliberate, Mauhul returns his gaze to you, his hand firmly spread across your hip. Your stomach flips under his possessive touch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your belly from above the fabrics of your dress.
"Kneel, boys." he gruffly instructs.
You watch in amazement and awe as they drop obediently at your feet. Their gazes are keen and fascinated as they take in your smaller stature while towering over your frame even as they stand on their knees.
Mauhul instead moves to stand tall behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist, possessively holding you close while his free hand traces idle patterns along the curve of your thigh. Seeing you marvel at his sons then look up at him expectantly, uncertainty clear in your expressive eyes, he gives you a reassuring nod and a warm, indulgent smile. His eyes glow with pride and affection for you. You're such a delicate creature compared to his burly sons, to his burly self as well, yet here you are, ready to undertake this crucial task for his family.
"This is their chance to admire you properly," he explains quietly, leaning down to murmur in your ear, "to appreciate the beauty and delicacy of the female form... before they learn to ravish and conquer it."
His large hand trails lightly up your side, brushing the outer swell of your breast before cupping the back of your neck in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive. He draws your head back so you can meet his piercing black gaze without straining your neck.
"They must show proper respect first and look upon you..." his gravelly voice drops to a conspiratorial purr, "...upon your pure unveiled beauty.”
You shiver at his purr and look up at your husband as if mesmerized. Your lips part but do not form words. You simply nod your head in consent, ready - as if you could ever be ready for something like this - to do whatever he asks of you. Your body suddenly grows too hot under the fabric of your dress.
With a satisfied grunt, Mauhul allows himself a moment to admire how beautifully you submit yourself to the situation - your eagerness to please him evident in every trembling breath and flustered blush painting your delicate features. Then, with a firm but gentle tug, he begins to untie the laces at the back of your gown, his fingers deftly working the knots of your bodice loose.
"Mmh. You wore your best dress for this, kisee …" he murmurs appreciatively, his breath warm against your skin as he exposes more of your delicate flesh inch by tantalizing inch.
"Oh..." a soft gasp escapes your lips at his praise. You did choose this dress in the hopes he would take his time peeling it off of you. Your eyes flicker to your bodice coming undone and pooling at your wide hips. A red shade dusts your cheeks as you briefly glance at the two orcs kneeling before you, noting how hungrily they are drinking in the newly exposed sight, before you bashfully avert your gaze and bite down on your lip.
Mauhul chuckles deeply, amused by your modest reaction despite the situation. His rough hand slides up from your thigh to rest on the bulge of your soft belly, pressing your body closer to his towering form.
“You've got nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures you in a rumbling tone, tracing the edge of the fabric that now clings loosely to your curves. “They are honoured to witness such beauty.
“And so am I.”
With a final yank, Mauhul pulls the gown completely off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. You stand now before him, clad only in a simple linen shift that does little to hide the enticing curves of your body. Your breasts strain against the thin fabric, nipples hardening in the humid air of the hut.
His sons' hungry gazes drink in every detail of your exposed form, their breathing growing heavier as they marvel at the contrast of your delicate features and petite frame against the robust, muscular build of their father, standing behind you like a looming shadow.
Your instincts urge you to press your thighs together and lean back against your husband's chest, as if seeking shelter. You refrain however from draping your arms across your torso to conceal your obvious arousal, visible even from beneath the linen shift. You keep your gaze away, a bashful look engraved on your face, yet you still try to catch his boys' gazes, ashamed albeit curious about their reactions. It's strange; deep down, you actually want his sons to like you so as to please your husband, to make him proud.
“You needn't be coy with them, my love” he purrs, grazing his tusks along the sensitive skin of your throat. “They hunger for you, just as I do.”
Turning your face toward his, Mauhul captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue and staking his claim for all to see. When he finally breaks away, he looks down at your flushed face with satisfaction, noting how dazedly you meet his heated gaze.
“You please me greatly,” he whispers, his hands trailing up your arms, his calloused fingers gently peeling the strands of your shift down the curve of your shoulders. “And you’re about to please me even more.”
You feel a rush of satisfaction as you hear the praise. Your hooded eyes are fixed on his dark, mesmerizing pools. A soft, fond smile blooms on your lips as you keep staring up at your spouse, as if he is the beacon you follow, while he undresses you entirely.
As the last threads of fabric fall away, exposing your full form to his hungry gaze, Mauhul lets out a low, approving rumble. The sight of your delicate skin bathed in firelight is enough to stir the beast within. His sons' eyes widen in unison, relishing the sight of your creamy, supple curves.
“Beautiful…”, he mutters reverently, his gaze roving over every inch of your exposed flesh. From the swell of your breasts, down to the soft narrowness of your waist, to the roundness of your hips and thighs – each part molded with flawless generosity.
Mauhul reaches around to cup one of your breasts, his calloused palm enveloping the soft mound. He thumbs your hardened nipple, eliciting a startled moan from your parted lips.
“And so responsive too,” he praises, his voice dripping with adoration. “Such a treasure to behold and claim.”
His sons watch, transfixed, as Mauhul continues to fondle and tease your sensitive breasts.
Your body arches against his under his eager touch. Soft moans leave your lips in appreciation, your skin tingling all over and rising with goosebumps. Your thighs squeeze together again, this time to create friction for the ever-growing ache in your core. This is the first time your husband touches you in such an intimate way and you're already lost in the pleasure his warm, rough palm brings you. You almost forget his sons are watching and are soon to witness their father claim you as his.
Feeling your thighs clamp together, Mauhul chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest and against your ear. His grip on your breast tightens, squeezing the soft flesh firmly as he watches you react.
“So impatient, aren't we?” he teases, pinching your nipple harder, drawing another sweet moan from your plump lips. “But we mustn't rush things, my love. This will be a long night.” his growl vibrates against your skin. “I will savour you and make sure you remember this night for the rest of your days. Just as my sons and I will.”
His free hand moves lower, skimming across your soft stomach until it finds its way to the moist heat between your thighs. As his fingers delve into your slick folds, he finds your swollen clit, circling it slowly.
The moment his thick fingers meet your nub, your breath hitches sharply and your whole body jolts in pleasure, knees buckling under your weight. Your head falls back against his broad chest and your eyes flutter closed.
A guttural groan escapes Mauhul as he feels how wet you are already. His thumb rubs your clit faster, coaxing more sounds of delight from your quivering lips. His other hand squeezes and kneads your breast, tweaking the nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger. With your back pressed against his front, Mauhul can easily feel every little response to his touch. Your walls clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them. He groans deeply, feeling his own desire spike at the thought of taking you, finally claiming what’s his.
“See? Such a responsive little thing you are”, he murmurs into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive lobe. “You were made for me, weren't you?”
He continues to circle your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm. His other hand leaves your breast, tracing down your side before gripping onto your thigh firmly and lifting it, stretching your cunt. In this position, his touch feels even more intense, the thrills of pleasure coursing through your body are even sharper.
His sons watch, enraptured, as Mauhul's large fingers work magic on your quivering flesh.
With practised ease, he begins to rub faster, applying pressure that sends shockwaves of delight through your body. Your cries fill the air, mingling with the crackling fire and his son's heavy breathing.
"Oh, Mau-!" you whimper, writhing against his chest, hips seeking and at the same time trying to evade his greedy fingers.
Hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips only fuels Mauhul's desire further. His movements become more purposeful, and relentless. He presses two thick digits inside your slick warmth, relishing the way you cling to him.
“You like that, do you?” he asks gruffly, curling his fingers upwards to stroke against your innermost walls.
The boys continue to watch in reverent silence, their eyes wide with fascination and barely concealed lust. Seeing their father take you so eagerly only serves to inflame their own arousal. Their erections already strain painfully against their loincloths, yearning for release.
Mauhul adds another finger, stretching your tight pussy even wider. Each thrust sends ripples of pleasure through both him and you.
You writhe against his firm body, your walls throbbing around his thick fingers stretching you out. Your hooded eyes look up, searching his gaze as you pant heavily. You can feel a hot pleasure coil in your lower belly, and your legs twitching more and more as the climax gets closer. The squelching sound his fingers produce by pumping in and out of your wet cunt drowns out every other noise.
Mauhul's eyes burn with primal hunger as he watches you lose yourself to the sensations he's creating. Your needy whimpers and the sight of your succumbing to his touch are intoxicating. Feeling your impending orgasm, Mauhul quickens his pace, driving his fingers deeper and faster. His thumb still circles your clit relentlessly, pushing you closer to the edge.
“That's it, cum for me,” he urges in a deep rumble. “Come apart on my fingers like the good little wife you are.”
He pistons his digits in and out of you rapidly, each thrust hitting that special spot inside you. Mauhul's own need is becoming unbearable, his cock throbbing painfully in his loincloth, pressing against your spine.
His words send you hurtling over the edge. Your pussy clenches tightly around his fingers as you cry out, your body spasming with the force of your orgasm. Mauhul keeps pumping, milking you for every drop of your release and you almost feel yourself faint from the overwhelming pleasure you experience. Heavy and loud pants fall from your parted lips as you sag against him, nearly dropping on the ground when your knees give out under you.
Feeling you come undone on his hand elicits a growl of satisfaction from Mauhul. He revels in the way your body trembles and in the vice-like grip of your spasming pussy around his fingers. He slows his motions, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm and holding you steady, one strong arm hooked around your middle to keep you from falling.
As you regain some semblance of control over your limbs, Mauhul withdraws his fingers from your dripping pussy with a lewd squelch and brings them up to his mouth, where he laps at them hungrily. A low grunt escapes him at the salty-sweet flavour, fueling his desire even more.
Slowly, deliberately, he sinks to his knees behind you and pulls you close, letting you lean your whole weight on him, your ass pressed against the upper side of his chest, your arm latched around his shoulders. He prays your trembling legs open again, holding your thigh up with his forearm and allowing his sons a perfect view of your glistening sex.
"Behold," he announces reverently, "the most precious prize. My wife’s sweet honey."
He dips his fingers in your juices again, splaying them all over his palm, then presents it to his sons’ hungry gazes, stretching his fingers to display your sticky essence.
“Why don’t you give them a little taste, hm my love?”
His free hand nudges your own and your hooded eyes flicker to his face. Your mind is still hazy after your intense release and you struggle to register his words.
Seeing your confusion, Mauhul takes your small hand in his massive one and guides it towards your soaked folds. His sons' eager eyes follow the movement, drinking in the sight of your delicate fingers coated in your own arousal.
“Let them taste you,” he explains, his voice a low rumble. “Feed them.”
With Mauhul's encouragement, you hesitantly extend your fingers towards the boys. They hungrily lean in, their tongues darting out to lick at your sticky digits. Moans of pleasure escape their lips as they savour your unique flavour.
Your chest heaves with a shuddering breath upon feeling their avid tongues swirl around your fingers. The haze in your mind is slowly fading and the realization of what is happening has you blushing all over again, especially as you notice how their eyes remain locked on yours, watching your reaction intently.
Noticing your blush, Mauhul smirks, pleased to see such a response from you. The sight of his sons worshipping your fingers like precious gems is incredibly arousing. He can't help but let out a satisfied groan, the sound vibrating against your back. He leans into your neck, whispering words meant only for your ears.
“Enjoy this, mìzaah . This is how you deserve to be treated – to be worshiped like a goddess.” His voice is a rough purr, filled with promise and intent.
Mauhul slips his hand up to cup and squeeze your breasts, thumb brushing over your hardened nipples. Shifting a little on his knees, he gently pushes your thighs wider apart. Your folds glistening wetly, inviting and tantalizing. His gaze shifts back to his sons, still licking and sucking thirstily at your fingers.
“Do you want more?” he questions them, voice laden with promise. Their nods and hums of approval are quick to follow and you can see their pupils dilate at the inviting sight of you stretched out so open for them. They glance back at their father, seeking his confirmation before they crawl forward, almost bumping their heads against each other in their eagerness to taste your juices directly from the source.
“Careful boys, there’s enough for the both of you.” he teases with a hearty chuckle, playfully squeezing your thighs as you whimper at the contact of their greedy tongues meeting your sensitive pussy.
Mauhul’s presence is large and imposing, yet his touch remains gentle as he helps you maintain balance while the boys worship your cunt. Their tongue action intensifies, their slurping sounds echoing in the room and their excitement palpable.
Looking down at them adoringly, he speaks in an authoritative tone, “Clean her properly, make sure you get all of her precious nectar.” His eyes land back on your face and an amused grin spreads on his face. “It will make you grow even stronger.”
Your arm squeezes tighter around his neck, seeking his grounding presence as his sons make you squirm and writhe against their tongues. Your head drops against his, your cheek pressing over his own, your shallow breaths fanning his skin.
The boys listen attentively to their father's instructions, their tongues swirling and probing deeper into your slick entrance. Mauhul's laughter rumbles through him, vibrating against your ear and sending pleasant tingles down your spine.
Watching his sons work diligently on pleasuring you only fuels Mauhul's own desires further. He can't help but let his eyes roam over your curves appreciatively, taking in every quiver and gasp that leaves your lips. With deliberate slowness, he slides his hand down from your breasts to trace along the side of your hips.
"Look how beautiful you are," he murmurs huskily. "My wife… my treasure."
His touch is tender yet possessive as he runs his rough fingertips across your soft skin, outlining each curve like he’s memorizing them.
The combination of your husband’s praises and reverent touches and his sons’ eager mouths sucking and lapping at you is too much to bear. A series of ever louder mewls fall from your lips, your grip tightening on Mauhul’s neck, as you feel another overwhelming orgasm crash onto you. Your body contorts sharply and your eyes roll back as white-hot pleasure blinds you.
"That's it, my love," he coos, his voice a soothing rumble. "Let go, let us take care of you."
The boys continue to lap at you, prolonging your bliss until you finally start to come down. As your tremors subside, they look up at their father with proud, satisfied grins, their faces smeared with your essence, their cheeks flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly due to their exertions.
“Good pups.” Mauhul looks at them fondly before turning his attention back to you. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his intense, dark gaze. "Aren’t they good pups, hm?”
You're still trying to ease your breathing as your heavy-lidded eyes meet his. You barely have the force to nod your head but take a deep breath and glance lazily at his sons, wishing to praise them for how amazing they made you feel. "G-Good pups..." you manage to say in a breathless and shaky voice.
A pleased smile curls at the corners of Mauhul's mouth, delighted by your response.
“You heard her, boys?”
The pride in Mauhul's eyes is unmistakable and so is the reverent awe in his sons’.
He gives your chin a gentle squeeze before releasing it. His gaze never wavers from yours, filled with a depth of affection and possession that sends warmth spreading through your entire being.
"Now, we show them how a true mate submits to her husband... and how a true husband worships his mate."
With a swift motion, Mauhul grabs hold of your hips firmly, and hoists himself up from the ground, bringing you up with him as well. He cradles you in his arms like a precious treasure and carries you towards the centre of the room, where the firelight casts long shadows across the ground.
"And you, my sons," he addresses the boys over his shoulder, "watch carefully and learn. This is what it means to belong to someone."
With that said, Mauhul lies you down on the furs, positioning you right in the middle. The boys watch their father with wide-eyed fascination as he eases himself down on top of you. There's an air of expectation and anticipation amongst you all – eager for whatever comes next.
Your hooded eyes are locked onto him, unwavering from his towering muscular form; they lazily roam over his bare chest, lashes drooping slowly as you breathe deeply, still trying to regain control of your pounding heart. Yet, it is difficult for you to prevent your heart from stuttering at the sight of your handsome partner and the prospect of what he is, finally, going to do to you. You melt into the warm, soft furs beneath you, your tender body still trembling from the unparalleled ecstasy you've just experienced. Your hair is scattered all around your head, and your thighs are clamped together, curling lazily on top of one other. All the while, your eyes marvel at him.
A low growl escapes from deep within Mauhul's throat as he hovers above you, his massive form casting a shadow over yours. He reaches out with one hand, tracing the delicate curve of your jawline with his calloused fingers before cupping your cheek gently.
"You are so beautiful, my love," he whispers, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could stare at you forever..."
Slowly, deliberately, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's a kiss filled with passion, hunger, and adoration. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours in a slow sensual dance as he explores every inch of your mouth. When he pulls away, his breath mingles with yours, and his eyes burn with a smouldering intensity.
“Feel me”, he whispers hoarsely, his hot breath sending chills down your spine. His hands gently take hold of yours, guiding them to his taut muscular chest. “I am your protector, your provider, your lover.”
Your hands reverently plane over his muscles, lingering over his heart, feeling its steady beat under your palm and his muscles flexing beneath your touch. Your eyes rake over his body, taking in his powerful physique, each mark on his skin telling a story of triumphs and failures. You bask in his warmth and the trepidant feeling buzzing within you. You're about to finally consummate your wedding with your husband, to be united with him in the most intimate and primal way. You don't even think about his sons watching you anymore, it's as if there's nobody else in the room but you and your beloved.
You meet his gaze again. Your eyes sparkle with pure devotion. The flickering flames of the fire are reflected in your big doe eyes, looking up at him so earnestly and expectantly.
There’s no mistaking the tenderness emanating from Mauhul’s touch as he lets go of your hands and begins tracing patterns along your exposed curves - mapping out every part of your body as if he has already learnt every curve and dip by heart.
His large hands slide down your sides, then grip your waist firmly, lifting you slightly to position your buttocks on his thighs. He captures your lips in another heated kiss as he presses his hardness against your core. He grinds slowly, relishing the sweet friction and the gasp that escapes your lips.
Your body arches instinctively into his touch. You are so ready, so wet, so incredibly eager for him.
With a tug he strips off his loincloth, revealing his fully erect cock to your hungry gaze. It stands tall and thick, a golden ring sitting at the base, its rosy head dripping with pre-cum, a visible testament to his keen arousal.
Your eyes widen at the sight of it, at its veiny-mapped look and mighty size which seems to stir something within your very core, a thrill running down your spine straight to your throbbing sex. There’s a hint of apprehension now clouding your gaze too, your body tenses just thinking of his thick, lengthy cock shoving its way into your hole.
“Trust me,” he murmurs as if sensing your concern, his voice rough yet reassuring. “I would never harm you.”
You nod and bury your hands in the furs at your sides as you brace yourself for what's coming next, anticipating both pain and pleasure. But he takes hold of your hands again, holding them tight in his warm palm, settling them on your lower belly. His eyes bore deeply into yours, engulfing you with a soothing warmth that permeates your whole body.
He lifts your legs higher with his free hand, spreading them wide across his hips as he aligns himself with your slick entrance. With deliberate slowness, he pushes in – just enough to breach that tight barrier, stretching you open inch by agonizing inch until he's buried balls-deep inside you, the golden ring is cool against your hot flesh. His eyes never leave yours.
Your walls stretch to accommodate him and clench tightly around his shaft. A groan rips from deep within his throat, pleasure coursing through his veins at this first intimate connection with his wife, as he feels how snug you are around him – how perfectly you fit him.
Mauhul drinks in the sight of you, his pupils dilating at the raw emotion shining in your eyes. He feels a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness wash over him, knowing that this precious beauty belongs to him now, body and soul.
Your body is shaken by faint tremors, your muscles tense, your walls throbbing around his unmoving length. Your locked eyes say everything about your connection, and the way he's gazing down at you, holding your hands and pulsating within your walls makes you feel so utterly... loved.
He holds still for a longer moment, savouring the incredible feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness. His heavy lids briefly drift closed as he revels in the blissful sensations, letting out a low, rumbling moan.
A few beats pass, and then with a guttural grunt, he begins to move, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back into your welcoming heat. He sets a slow, deep rhythm, relishing each stroke as he fills you again and again, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with a lewd sound.
His gaze never departs from your own, drinking in the play of emotions dancing across your face – the initial tension giving way to relaxation, to acceptance, to growing pleasure. He can feel you responding to him, your inner muscles rippling around his shaft, urging him deeper.
"You are truly mine now," he growls, punctuating each word with a powerful stroke. His hand tightens on yours as he picks up speed, driving into you with increasing urgency, chasing the blissful release you both crave. “And I am yours. Completely.”
Shivers of pleasure consume every cell in your body as he thrusts in and out of you at the most tantalizing and blissful speed. You can feel his length sink deep into you under your palms resting on your lower belly, where his hand keeps them still as if aiming to make you feel even more connected to him. "Mauhul, ohh... gods-" you whimper breathlessly, your eyes crossing slightly as the pressure in your stomach mounts.
The sound of your sweet cries spurs him on and he increases his tempo, pounding into you with relentless fervour, driven by primal urges and a deep need to claim you thoroughly. His hips slam against yours with each powerful thrust, the force sending jolts of pleasure radiating outward from your joining point.
He can tell you're nearing your peak, your moans turning to breathy cries of ecstasy, your hips bucking against his to meet each of his powerful thrusts. His strong arms wrap around your smaller frame, dwarfing you, and making you arch against his body. He leans down, capturing one of your nipples in his hot mouth, sucking hard on your sensitive button as he continues to plunge into you with unyielding force, setting a relentless pace designed to drive you wild with pleasure.
The dual stimulation sends shockwaves through you, intensifying the throbbing contractions of your pussy around his cock. Your hands reach out to grab onto something, finding his thick biceps. His muscles flex and ripple beneath your fingers as he drives into you with abandon, the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh filling the air.
His dark eyes lock onto yours, watching intently as tears well up in your eyes due to the overwhelming sensations. Pride, satisfaction, and adoration mingle together in his penetrating gaze.
“Come for me, mìzaah ,” he urges, his voice husky with desire. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock as you come undone.” He rocks into you harder, faster, seeking that perfect spot inside you to send you over the edge.
His lips leave your nipple to trail searing kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there as his cock drills relentlessly into your slick folds. He reaches down with one large hand to press firmly against your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in time with his thrusts, intent on throwing you over the edge into a shattering climax.
And he does push you to the brink of madness, sending your body convulsing against him, with cries of ecstasy tumbling out of your parted lips. Your walls clench tighter around him, milking his throbbing shaft, drawing him closer to his own peak.
He revels in the sensation of total possession, feeling you unravel beneath him. His grip tightens on your curves, dragging you along the slippery fur bed as he seeks out every last drop of pleasure from your coupling.
With a savage roar, he tightens his arms around you and buries himself to the hilt, his shaft pulsing as he erupts inside you, flooding your womb with his hot seed. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he loses himself in the all-consuming bliss of your joining. For long moments, he remains buried deep, savouring the aftershocks and the feeling of your still-clenching warmth around him, while you’re lost in a haze of ecstasy.
You’re still panting heavily, feeling thoroughly spent as your hooded eyes slowly regain focus, landing on your husband, taking in his dishevelled state, his sweaty skin, his long black braid draped over his shoulder, his blissful expression... and you feel your lips curl up into a lazy but content smile.
As the waves of pleasure recede, leaving behind a sense of profound satisfaction he pulls out slowly, allowing his spent length to slide free from your clenching walls with a wet pop. The sight of his cum dripping down your thighs and tainting the furs elicits a primal satisfaction from him, a grin spreading across his features.
“Mmh, ùmah (mine),” he coos racously, brushing a calloused thumb over your slick folds, smearing his seed over your soft skin and pushing it back inside your walls. He draws lazy circles around your clit, teasing it gently until you flinch away in protest, still too sensitive to touch.
His eyes roam hungrily over your flushed skin, the sheen of sweat glistening on every curve and valley. His fingertips proudly trace over the mark he's left on your breast with his tusks, as though claiming ownership of your body once more. His fingers then trail back downwards, following the gentle slope of your stomach until reaching the apex of your thighs. He gives your mound a playful smack, chuckling deeply when you squeal in surprise.
His laughter is rich and full, echoing off the stone walls of his chamber as he teases you mercilessly with gentle slaps and pokes, enjoying the way you squirm and writhe beneath his touch, and the lazy breathless giggles that escape your lips. He leans down, planting a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your lower belly and inner thigh. Reaching the apex of your legs, he parts your folds with his thumbs, exposing your sensitive pink flesh to the humid air of the room. His nose brushes against your sex, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scent of your arousal mixed with his own essence.
"Mmm, you smell like spring," he growls appreciatively, before he moves lower on the furs, spreading your thighs wide with his massive hands. His tongue darts out, flicking across your wetness in a slow swipe, tasting your juices mingled with his own.
“And you taste like victory,” he declares, dipping his head further between your legs to feast upon your sweetness. Each lick is drawn out, each suckle meant to draw forth another whimper of delight from your quivering form.
His onslaught on your still sensitive bundle of nerves has you wriggling and trashing on the furs, soft strained whimpers falling from your mouth, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging meekly on it. But suddenly you freeze, your heavy eyes landing on the two figures kneeling just a few feet away from you. His sons. How could you forget that you had an audience? They have been watching you coupling as part of their rite! Lost as you were to pleasure you didn't pay them any mind. But now, all at once, your husband's words rush back into your mind, bursting through the fog that has been numbing it. "My sons will learn from me... and then they will learn from you, as you please them as well." Your cheeks flush crimson again at the realization, and they only get hotter when you notice the massive bulges under their loincloths and the way their bodies tremble as if they're about to explode.
Mauhul feels you tense up and follows your startled gaze to where his sons kneel nearby. A low rumble emanates from his chest, somewhere between amusement and paternal pride at the sight of them, so aroused and fascinated by the act of mating. He knows they're learning valuable lessons today, about the power of desire, the thrill of conquest, and the depths of passion that can exist between husband and wife.
“Ah, look at them,” he says, his deep voice laced with mirth. “Look how much they enjoyed watching us. They've learned much about how to please their future mates.”
He shifts, laying beside you, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at your form sprawled languidly on the furs. His rough fingers trace the curve of your hip gently before resting on your plump belly, feeling it rise and fall with each ragged breath you take.
With a nod, he gestures for his boys to come closer, his voice low and commanding. “Approach, lads. Come to claim your new status.”
You watch in both apprehension and trepidation as his sons scramble forward eagerly, their cocks straining against their loincloths as they reach your side. The youngest, Moth, looks a tad more composed, although his breathing is uneven and quick, betraying his internal turmoil. Beside him, Torak appears visibly shaken; beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead, his normally resolute countenance displaying palpable trepidation. Yet both share the common hunger, the craving to experience such carnal intimacy like their father just has, guided by instinct and nature's demands. None move into action, waiting for their father to give them instructions.
Mauhul watches his sons approach, noting the mix of excitement and nervousness etched on their faces. He feels a surge of pride seeing them so eager to claim their place as adults, to follow in his footsteps and assume their roles as warriors and protectors and fathers.
He leans down, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, before sitting up straighter and addressing his offspring.
"Torak, first," he simply states while directing his attention to his eldest son. His tone exudes authority, demanding utter compliance, to which the firstborn responds by taking a tentative step forward, his large hands fumbling with the leather ties that hold his loincloth in place. The material drops away easily, revealing his throbbing cock, fully erect and pulsating with unspent lust.
Your sight settles on his veiny meat, and you linger there for a moment. It's not nearly as large or long as his father's, but it bends slightly upward, giving it a wicked look that makes your walls flutter.
Mauhul glances at you, your face showing signs of nervousness mingled with lustful curiosity – the perfect mix for this particular scenario. There’s something intensely satisfying about watching his family unite like this, bonding through tradition.
“Show her what you’ve learned,” his voice booms through the room, filled with pride and expectation.
Torak’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to cup one of your breasts. His touch is tentative at first, unsure, but quickly gains confidence under his father's approving gaze and your soft hums. He leans down, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand continues to knead the other breast.
Watching his eldest son attend to you stirs something primal within Mauhul, a surge of possessiveness mixed with satisfaction. He leans back on his heels, allowing Torak space to explore and learn while keeping a protective eye on the proceedings.
A smirk plays on his lips as he watches the young orc's tentative touches blossom into confident caresses, spurred on by your moans and the way you arch your back, offering yourself further to his son’s attentions.
You bite onto your bottom lip to muffle your moans as you feel the young orc’s hand travel along your stomach and slide between your thighs. Your lashes flutter and your head cranes slightly to the side to search your husband’s gaze. One of your hands reaches out as well, seeking contact with him. Your fingers find his thigh, resting near your head, and dig slightly into his tight flesh.
Mauhul meets your gaze, his eyes burning with intensity as he allows you to ground yourself through the touch. He covers your hand with his own, holding it firmly against his thigh, the contact a reminder of your connection amidst the sea of new sensations washing over you. His other palm comes up to brush stray hair from your sweat-dampened brow, tucking them behind your ear tenderly.
His voice is a low rasp when he speaks, meant only for your ears. "That's it, kisee . Let yourself feel everything. Remember, my sons are learning from you too - teach them well."
The praise sends a shiver down your spine, his words igniting a fresh wave of arousal but also a deep sense of responsibility. You think you realize now how important this moment is. How meaningful your role is in this rite. And so you brush aside the lingering awkwardness you feel towards this unorthodox orcish tradition, releasing your inhibitions to try and take on the duty your husband has bestowed on you.
Your free hand moves down towards Torak’s head to gently stroke his long dark hair tied in decorative braids, your fingers weaving carefully in his loose roots.
“You’re doing good, Torak.” you praise him softly, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "Don't be afraid to touch me as you wish." Your stomach flutters when you see the young orc look up at you in a mix of shock and awe, then the instant glint of confidence that flashes across his eyes before he lets his fingers brush against your wet folds and rub around your entrance. His eyes are locked onto yours to gauge your reactions. You moan and nod at him in approval, your hands tightening their relative hold on Torak's hair and your husband's palm.
Mauhul's grip on your hand also tightens reflexively as he watches his eldest son gain courage from your encouragement. Pride swells in his chest, not just for Torak's growing boldness, but for your poise and grace in guiding his son. You embrace your role as a mentor with a natural instinct that takes his breath away.
The sight of Torak's fingers disappearing into your slick heat sets Mauhul's blood aflame, but as much as he longs to join you and stake his claim once more, he knows he has to wait. This is his sons’ moment and he won’t rob them of it. Instead, he leans in close to your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck as he murmurs, "Such a good mate you are. My precious little wife… helping my sons become Shakran’z. "
Your heart leaps at his words, your languid gaze flickering up to briefly meet his eyes before you lock it onto his firstborn’s expectant look once more. Your fingers curl around the end of his braid, gently pulling on it. Your attention seems to spur him on, leading him to push his thick fingers inside your already thoroughly stretched and naturally lubed entrance. He’s still slightly hesitant in his actions, but you smile at him and roll your hips against his hand, to reassure him that he’s on the right path. “Yes, like that, Torak. Curl your fingers…”
Mauhul delights in the spectacle before him: you, the precious gem of his tribe, deflowering his young in service of mating traditions, but with all the grace and love of someone who genuinely cares for those they guide. It ignites a fire within him unlike anything else.
"That's it, Torak," his voice breaks through the silent haze of lust that fills the hut, gruff yet filled with paternal pride. "Please your mate before you claim them."
His father's words further encourage Torak to be more confident in his actions. His fingers curl and start to slide in and out of you, teasing that spongy area inside of you that has you instantly moaning in pleasure. His other hand moves to your lower belly, positioning his thumb over your clitoris just like he has seen his father do earlier. The pad of his thumb draws uneven circles on your swollen nub, managing to elicit shivers to run through your body.
Your head falls back on the furs, your body writhing and arching under his ministrations. Your palm tightens on Mauhul's hand and he squeezes it back as he watches intently, drinking in every detail of your shared intimacy. The flush spreading across your cheeks, the way your breasts rise and fall rapidly with each moan escaping your lips, the sway of your hips matching Torak's rhythm.
"Good boy," he praises Torak, his voice rough with need. "Make sure she’s ready for you... Make her cum..."
A whimper falls from your lips as Torak quickens his movements, wanting to take you over the edge just as his father said. Your hips buck against his hand, your eyes squeeze shut as you feel that pressure growing in your lower belly all over again.
"Yes... Oh... Yes..." you encourage him, cradling his braid in your shaky fingers until you can't take it anymore and start to convulse in pleasure, a muted scream falling from your parted lips.
You don't have time to recover, however, because feeling your walls clench around his fingers has sent Torak's hunger to the roof. His instincts kick in, overpowering his lack of experience. His eagerness to finally claim his maturity is so deep and ardent that he grabs his cock and pushes it inside you while you're still spasming.
"Oh! Gods!!" you cry out, eyes widening in shock and landing on Torak's hips just as they start to move back and forth with an erratic and disjointed pace that makes your whole body shake and jiggle.
With a low growl, Mauhul witnesses as his eldest plunges into you. Watching as his progeny claims you with his throbbing cock brings forth memories that burn bright within his chest - his own rite of passage decades ago, the impatience of youth, the yearning, the awake of his primal instincts, the overwhelming sensation of completeness, the deep-seated need fulfilled. Your pleasure-laden screams fill the air, mixing with his son’s huffs, setting off an echo of past bliss inside him.
“Easy now,” he growls soothingly through clenched teeth, giving his son a pointed look, to which Torak immediately responds by steadying his thrusts, even if only barely. Since the start of the rite, he’s felt his length throb maddeningly, an ache which only worsened as he watched his father claim his wife. And now that he is finally inside you, he can't hold back any longer. His grunts become louder, his eyes squeeze closed and his warm palms grab onto your hips as he plunges deeper inside you, seeking his first release. Release that comes quickly and overwhelmingly, with hips bucking erratically against yours as his hot seed fills your channel.
Your stunned gaze flashes towards your husband, searching his face, silently questioning if his son was supposed to cum inside you. The proud look etched onto Mauhul's face is enough to convince you that Torak's did exactly what was expected of him. You feel his palm squeeze yours as he cups his son’s jaw, drawing his hooded eyes on him.
"Let it be known," he declares in a loud, clear voice which echoes through the room, "That Torak, my firstborn, has finally become a Shakran .”
The sound of Torak’s shallow breaths mingling with the crackling of the fire and the gazes of the three orcs so full of intensity and pride creates an atmosphere that is both raw and sacred. You don’t even dare to breathe as you lie there on the furs, your mind spinning and walls twitching around Torak’s softening cock as you stare at the scene in awe. Your wonder only intensifies as you catch your husband dipping a sharpened bone in a pot of ink and puncturing his son’s skin with it, skillfully etching a marking onto his chest. You’re not sure what the intricate lines mean but you’ve seen identical marks on your husband’s chest and you can definitely tell how significant they are. Torak’s passive reaction to the puncturing is also worthy of notice; he maintains his attention on his father and keeps his muscles from twitching despite the droplets of purplish blood rolling down his thick green skin.
Once the marking is completed, Mauhul gives his son a final proud nod. You can feel his seed leaking out of your walls, as well as the humid air meeting your wet folds, as Torak slowly detaches from you, but not before smiling down at you and whispering, "Raak ut, ishtà-kurme."
You've been with the clan long enough to grow familiar with the way the orcs express their gratitude, although perhaps not long enough to understand what the term 'kurme' means. Now, however, there is no time to dwell on translations because, while one son has completed his rite, another has yet to go through the passage. And so, everyone's attention is drawn to the youngest, who has been patiently waiting, in reverent silence, for his turn.
As soon as Torak pulls away from you, leaving behind a trail of your combined fluids, Moth steps closer to take his place between your legs.
Leaning back on his heels, his large hand finding your hair, Mauhul allows his eyes to roam over the youngest orc. He’s not particularly large like Torak, but he carries a strength in himself, an aura of determination. The same determination that was in Mauhul when he became an adult, years ago. Even you can notice the uncanny resemblance between the two now that Moth is so close. Both of his boys resemble your spouse in more ways than one, but the youngest exudes the same calmness and tenderness that Mauhul has. The way his palm reaches for your face to gently wipe a stray tear from your cheek - a tear you had no idea you shed - and his kind eyes smile down at you as if he's the one supposed to reassure you only serve to reinforce your impressions.
You’re so lost in his dark eyes, marvelling at just how much his gaze resembles that of your beloved Mauhul that you barely manage to catch a glimpse of brownish freckles scattered across his throbbing length before he rubs its head along your slit and gently but firmly pushes inside, eliciting a soft gasp out of your lips. He feels larger than his sibling as he stretches your walls. The wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh soon fills the room again as Moth picks up the tempo, his pace much more controlled and steadier than Torak’s. One would almost think this was not his first time, although watching his father first and his brother second must have given him enough visual clues to know what to do. Soft whimpers fall from your lips as your body is rocked by his thrusts, your heavy-lidded eyes unwavering from the youngest's face.
“Strong, steady strokes,” Mauhul advises softly, his voice carrying an air of approval. He feels a surge of pride swell in his chest seeing how Moth seems to have taken in everything, moving with such control and purpose. It reminds him of himself, years ago, determined to make the most of this rite, eager to prove his worth. He runs a comforting hand over your sweat-drenched hair, noting the exhaustion etched on your face but also the satisfaction shining in your eyes.
Moth nods, acknowledging his father's words without breaking the rhythm. Yet, it's clear that he needs no prompting, every thrust a deliberate caress designed to elicit moans both from you and him. His hands cup the soft mounds of your breasts, thumbs teasing your hardened nipples, adding to the rousing sensation. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your walls to clench tighter around him.
“...You're doing well, my son.” Mauhul praises him, his massive hand slides possessively over your stomach, feeling the tremors beneath his palm as you respond to Moth's attention.
Your eyes meet the dark pools of your husband's, and even through the haze, the exhaustion, and yet another orgasm brewing in your belly, you find yourself smiling up at him, searching for his touch with your smaller hand, his name falling from your lips in a hushed plea.
The sound of his name rolling off your tongue causes something to stir deep within Mauhul. A warmth spreads across his chest, mingling with pride and love, a blend that makes his heart throb painfully. “My beautiful kisem… ” he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. Meanwhile, the rhythm between you and Moth grows more frantic, your hips rolling lazily to meet each of his powerful thrusts. Your body moves of its own accord, responding naturally to the sensations flooding through you. You're teetering on the edge once again, the pressure building in your core threatening to burst forth at any moment.
Moth’s fingers meet your swollen bundle of nerves, interrupting the kiss by eliciting a loud whimper from your lips. Your hooded eyes meet Moth’s again, his gaze locked onto your face, eager to capture your every reaction, ready to change his actions accordingly.
You only have the force to rest your free hand upon his - the one still squeezing your breast - and nod meekly in approval before you drop your head back, resting it on your husband’s thigh. Every nerve of your body is awake and on fire, your muscles tensing, your thighs twitching at every stroke of his cock and flick of his finger against your clit, your face contorting in pleasure as one more orgasm rapidly approaches.
Mauhul’s hand caresses your hair, providing a grounding presence amidst the storm of sensations overwhelming you. The sight of you losing yourself to pleasure over and over again is intoxicating, he’s already grown addicted to it and he can't wait to witness it every day from this moment forward.
Moth seems to sense your impending climax, his movements becoming erratic as he chases after his own. His strokes grow shorter and more insistent, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your sensitive nub. With a final, deep thrust and a low grunt, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, holding still as he unleashes ropes of cum into your channel. He doesn’t stop pleasuring you though, even as he reaches his first release. Only a few moments later your back arches and a strangled cry tears from your throat as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.
Mauhul watches in awe as you shatter apart, your entire body trembling and writhing against his and his son’s. Pride swells in his chest at the sight of his youngest son bringing his wife to such heights of pleasure. He leans down to scoop you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest. "You did wonderfully, my love," he praises softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, his tusks grazing your sweaty skin.
His gaze shifts to Moth, who is withdrawing from your quivering body, a satisfied smirk playing about his lips. "It seems my young warrior has inherited his father's prowess in the art of lovemaking." he announces with a smug, then looks at Torak and adds, “Both of my young warriors. You have made me very proud.”
His look then turns solemn once more as he fixes his dark eyes on his youngest son and declares: “Let it be known that Moth, my secondborn, has finally become a Shakran .” And just as he did for Torak before, he grabs the bone from the floor, dips it in the pot of ink and brings it to his son’s heaving chest. Mauhul presses his other palm on his skin and looks at him with affection and reassurance as his son’s body gradually eases its tremors. Only then does he start to mark his skin with the same intricate lines as earlier. Even through your droopy lids, you can’t help but reverently watch as your husband’s hand makes quick work of the tattoo. Your tired eyes rake over the young orc’s skin, rising to his face. He’s calm even now, a perfect picture of serenity, which deeply amazes you. He too, just like his brother has done before, moves his gaze back to you and smiles as he whispers the same orcish words with a devotion that makes your still racing heart miss a beat. You cling to your husband’s side as you nod at his son, acknowledging his words despite not fully understanding their meaning, already thinking of inquiring about them to Mauhul later.
With the completion of the ritual, Mauhul sets the bone aside and pulls you closer, his embrace enveloping you completely. As he rests his chin atop your head, his voice booms out, filling the room with a mix of pride and love.
“You've earned your rightful place among our adults,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Today, you became true Shakran’z - protectors, providers, and lovers. May these marks serve as a reminder of your role in our tribe. When the time comes, you’ll carry on our line of truebloods by providing your seed to the clan’s zàgartha but you will also take wives and repopulate our tribe with strong warriors, children of the bond you will build with your drùda’z.”
Mauhul's gaze drifts to you, looking exhausted but content in his embrace. He brushes a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone.
“Tomorrow we will celebrate. Now… you may go.” he dismisses his sons in a whisper, without taking his eyes away from you.
He wraps his massive arms around your tiny frame protectively, holding you close against him. The warmth emanating from his large body envelops you in its cocoon-like embrace as he cradles you.
You struggle to keep your eyes open, feeling too spent, drained of all your forces after the physically straining rite you've taken part in, your body still buzzing from the intense series of orgasms you've just experienced. Your sweaty forehead rests on his chest, your frame sagged against his muscular torso.
"Mau?" you meekly call out for him. Your droopy eyes lock onto his, your fingers lazily drawing patterns on his broad chest. You wait for him to hum back before speaking again.
"Your sons have called me… 'kurme'," you point out, curiosity twinkling in your tired eyes. "What does that mean?"
A deep, rumbling chuckle escapes Mauhul's chest, resonating through your frame pressed against him. He looks down at you adoringly, his expression softening at the adorable sight you present - so exhausted yet curious like a mouse. His broad hand strokes slowly down your back in soothing circles as he responds.
“That is the orcish word for mother,” he explains in hushed tones, his dark eyes beaming down at you. “However, they have not simply called you mother but ‘ishtà-kurme’. Guiding mother. The mother who lights the path.” His thumb draws idle figures on your bare shoulder. The gentle motion seems to ease your strained, tender body.
“In our culture,” he starts again, his deep voice growing serious. “It's a term of utmost reverence and devotion. To a Shakran orc, the ishtà-kurme is someone held dear and sacred. They have shown you immense respect by calling you that, my love. They will hold you in high regard for their whole lives for what you have done for them today… and for all the things they will learn from you in the days ahead.”
Slowly he lifts his hand, cradling your delicate face gently within the expanse of his huge, calloused palm. He lowers his roughened lips against yours, capturing them in a tender kiss, conveying a wealth of emotion that words cannot match. “You became their yazàkurme , chosen mother, the moment I took you as my kisem… ”, he pauses as a fond smile curls up his lips, his black eyes sparkling as they reflect the warm glow of the fire. “My kisee -” he coos affectionately in a softer tone, making your stomach flutter. “My wife. And one day you’ll be kurme to our children.”
You sigh, feeling your heart swell with love. “Those are a lot of names…” you quip back with a soft huff of a chuckle, your tired eyes crinkling in both amusement and affection as they gaze lovingly up at him.
With a hearty laugh, Mauhul’s deep voice fills the room, echoing off the stone walls. His laughter fades into a soft hum as he gazes down at you, his eyes sparkling with undisguised adoration.
“Indeed, many names for one little human,” he muses aloud, a touch of pride evident in his voice. “But each one holds its weight in significance. For us orcs, titles matter. They define bonds, roles, and responsibilities.”
He releases your face, allowing his roughened hand to slide down your neck, coming to rest on the swell of your breast, just above your heart.
“You lost your name when you left your village to join us,” he whispers solemnly, his eyes flickering to his hand as his fingers splay over your soft flesh, feeling your heartbeat under his palm. “So we shall give you many, in return.” His eyes meet yours again, a genuine and fond smile blooming on his lips, one that causes your heart to stutter under his palm. “But one will always stand above all. And that is mìzaher. My mìzaah, that's what you are. My life companion, my only love.”
Your palm comes to rest on his cheek, softly cradling his face as you gaze deeply into his eyes, a faint veil of emotion blurring your vision as you return his adoring smile. You're physically drained, still a tad unsure of what has just occurred and what it all means for you, but one thing is certain: the overwhelming feeling of being loved, treasured, and protected that envelops you fully now as you rest in your beloved husband's arms. You wish for this feeling to last forever.
Mauhul leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savours the gentle caress. When he opens them again, they shine with a depth of emotion you have rarely seen in another being - pure, unadulterated love.
"You need rest, mìzaah, and a bath," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your palm. His eyes crinkle in amusement as he adds: "I can gift you more names tomorrow."
He shifts, carefully scooping you into his arms without breaking eye contact. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist as he stands, cradling you against his broad chest.
“You can close your eyes. I’ll take good care of you.”
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a.n.: any kind of feedback is highly appreciated! Let me know what you think pls 🥺
mothman x afab!reader - slight dub-con, monster in heat, oviposition, impregnation, belly inflation, lots of cum, intoxication (getting high on his pheromones, kinda)
You've never heard those wailing noises before. You've been living in a cottage in the midst of the woods for a few years now, and while you're used to hearing all kinds of animal sounds, you've never been scared by such high-pitched keening coming from the dense trees that surround your house.
You didn't know what to expect when you decided to follow the sound. Fortunately, it was daytime and you were familiar with the area, so your sole fear was coming across a truly horrific sight.
All your worries vanished as soon as you found out the source of the noise. A towering, imposing creature clothed in fur stood beside a tree, or rather hunched over its trunk. There was nobody else. Only one of the mothfolk you'd heard so much about but had never encountered before. The antennae were furiously shaking, producing that high-pitched sound that had terrified you from a distance but now filled you with something akin to pity. The massive wings, a triumph of red, white, and blue that sparkled in the sunshine pouring through the foliage, twitched and heaved as if the creature's breathing was laboured.
“A-Are you alright...?” you asked hesitantly, your eyes wide in awe and locked onto the trembling figure.
The moth was startled by your voice, turning around to set their huge red eyes on you. You couldn’t help but notice how incredibly beautiful they were. The colors, the long dark hair, the big eyes, the imposing stature... everything about the creature both amazed and astonished you.
“I... I'm fine,” they managed to say, their voice coming out rough and trembling. “I just... I don't want to hurt you, so please go away.”
Your brow furrowed at his words. 'Hurt'? Why would they hurt you? The mothfolk was among the most peaceful creatures of the forest, or so you’ve always heard. Perhaps they could be dangerous to strangers, attack out of fear or to defend themselves… but this one moth didn’t seem to be scared of you. You watched, puzzled, as their clawed hand reached for the bark of the tree and clung onto it as if to ease his tremors.
“You look like you’re in pain…”, you said as you warily made one step forward, your worried and curious gaze still locked onto their shaking figure. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
A low groan escaped their lips, their voice came out strained and pained as they warned you again. “Please, stay back!” They squeezed their eyes shut for a moment, as if fighting against themselves upon what, you didn’t know. When the eyes opened again, they were glazed with a mix of desperation and shame.
“I... I'm in heat. My body craves... it needs…”, they trailed off just as their gaze raked over your figure before abruptly averting, unable to bring themselves to confess exactly what their body yearned for. “Just stay away.”
They shifted uncomfortably, turning to support themselves against the trunk and only then did you notice the huge erection poking out from the thick fur covering their hips.
You swallowed and instinctively stepped back, your eyes wide with shock. You understood now why the mothman was so hell-bent on keeping you at distance, why he said he didn’t want to hurt you…
“Oh-! I'm sorry-! I didn't realize-!”
You had no idea what was going on inside of him. A shudder surged through his entire frame as he witnessed your reaction. He knew he must have looked monstrous to you: a freakish creature overcome by heat and driven by primal, animalistic instincts. Humans do not go through it, they cannot understand. The humiliation that gnawed at his insides became stronger, mingling with the furious desire pumping through his veins.
“It's okay,” he forced himself to say, even though nothing about this situation felt remotely close to being okay. “Please, just go... get somewhere safer.” But even as those words left his mouth, his legs trembled with the effort of holding himself back. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to lunge forward, to pin you down - the sole creature that had dared to approach him since this torture began - and claim you as his mate. To pump you full of his seed until you swelled with his offspring.
You should have done that. You should have listened to him and ran away as far as you could... Your instincts were screaming at you to go, urging you to leave but for some reason you didn't. He looked and sounded so desperate and vulnerable... You found yourself pitying him even more than before. You truly were out of your mind to even consider the notion of helping him… Except, he could have easily assaulted you from the minute he spotted you, and yet he didn't; instead, he made every attempt to push you away. That proved to you that he was kind. And a kind creature always deserves to be helped.
“What if I touch you?” you asked him, trying to keep your voice and heartbeat steady and the images of you being fucked sensless by a mothman out of your mind. “Would that be enough?”
“You... you truly wish to help me?” His voice was barely above a whisper yet thick with emotion. “Even though I am... this?” He gestured to his imposing form, to the rigid length of his arousal straining against his fur, as if to persuade you to see reason but you were already advancing. His eyes somehow appeared even larger as he watched you cautiously stepping towards him, until you were only a few feet away from him. From so up close you could see how distraught he truly was; his dishelved hair, his sweaty skin, his ruffled fur. Your heart ached for him.
“I-It might be enough-,” he admitted with evident hesitation mingled with urgency, swallowing sharply as he called upon all his might to hold back from jumping you. You were so close, he could sense your sweet, tantalizing scent. “Feeling the warmth of your hands could be enough to ease the ache...”
The air seemed to vibrate with tension as you approached his fur with you hand. His breath quickened, his whole body tensing in anticipation. For a moment, he considered pulling away, hiding himself somewhere and suffer through the pain for the next days - but the ache in his loins was becoming unbearable. He wasn’t sure he could resist it any longer.
Slowly, almost reverently, he extended a clawed hand towards yours, guiding your fingers to the base of his throbbing erection. Even that light contact sent jolts of pleasure coursing through him, and he bit back a groan.
“Here…”, his voice cracked with desperation. “Please, will you stroke it for me?”
Your eyes flickered down to watch as the long, dark red proboscis-phallus, stricken with bluish veins, throbbed under the feather-like touch of your fingertips. You felt your skin tingle at the touch, his skin somehow warm and cool at the same time, moist and slippery.
Your eyes met his again as you started to stroke his cock, avoiding the swollen purplish tip.
“Like this?”
A low, guttural moan escaped his lips and his eyes fluttered shut while he savoured the sensation of your hand moving along his aching length. "Yes, like that," he breathed, his hips subtly rocking into your touch. "More... please."
His cry boosted your confidence in your strokes, delivering even more waves of comfort and pleasure through his pained body. He opened his eyes to meet yours once again. There was a tenderness in your gaze that touched his soul, and he found himself drawn to you in a way he couldn't fully comprehend.
"Don't stop," he urged, his voice strained with need. "I'm so close… I’ve been on edge for days…"
You simply nodded in acceptance, feeling as if you would do anything he asked of you at that moment. It felt as if you were losing yourself in his big, mesmerizing eyes, in those glowing pools of crimson as vast and limitless as the universe. You were in awe at the sight of such a magnificent creature… at his raw response to your touch. You felt both powerful and utterly subservient.
When your palm touched his swollen tip and tenderly squeezed, the mothman felt the dam break within him. With a strangled cry, his body convulsed, his cock jerked sharply, and a torrent of eggs erupted from it, flooding your hand and wrist with his warm, slimy discharge.
"Oh Light, I'm sorry!" he gasped, horror and ecstasy warring in his expression as he watched his seed overflow onto your hand. "Too much, I couldn't control it..." Despite his words, he made no move to pull away or stop your ministrations. Instead, he leaned into your touch, his hips still thrusting weakly as the last of his eggs emptied into your waiting hand.
Your jaw dropped in shock as you felt the myriads of tiny slimy eggs surge onto your palm. You instinctively reached out with your other hand to collect them, but you couldn't avoid the sticky goo from staining your clothes and dropping onto the ground. You were panicked, unsure what to do, his apologies barely reaching your ears.
Your dismay deepened when you realized his erection hadn't softened; in fact, it appeared to be growing even harder than before. It turns out that simply touching him wasn't enough to quench his heat after all.
The creature watched in fascination as you scrambled to capture the stream of eggs pouring from his cock, your hands working feverishly to contain the slimy mess. Despite the chaos, a small part of him was thrilled at the sight; it was as if you were trying to protect his precious offspring. His lust-clouded mind could only picture how good of a nurturer you could be for his larvae…
"I-I can't help it," he choked out, fresh tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. "I need to be inside you..."
Reaching out with trembling hands, he grasped your waist, pulling you closer until your soft curves pressed against the hard planes of his body. His rigid cock nudged insistently at your stomach, leaking trails of slick fluid across your clothing.
"Please," he begged brokenly, "let me put them inside you where it's safe... I promise I won't hurt you."
You were so shocked, so speechless that you barely reacted. You were still keeping your hands cupped, stuck in your instinctive yet pathetic intent to save the eggs, when he laid you down on the grass. The slimy mess inevitably dropped all over you, even on your face. A sweet taste similar to nothing you had ever tasted before met your lips, causing your head to spin, your vision to blur and your body to heat up all at once.
"W-what-?" you gasped, your slime-tainted palms grasping blindly for him. The mothman took your eagerness to touch him for consent, and so he pinned you to the ground, dwarfing you with his larger form, and then sought out your mouth, capturing your lips in a desperate, sloppy kiss. His long tongue plundered the warm cavern, savoring the sweet taste of his own sperm mingled with your unique flavor.
Murmuring wordlessly, he ground his pelvis against yours, the tip of his throbbing cock sliding along the crease of your hip. The friction sent jolts of pleasure-pain shooting through his loins, fueling his frenzy. Breaking the kiss, he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as he peppered your skin with open-mouthed kisses. His hands roamed over your body, squeezing and kneading the plush flesh, mapping every unfamiliar curve and valley of your human frame.
“You have to guide me”, he breathed against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “I don't want to hurt you, but I need to be deep inside you…”
His huge hands grasped your knees, spreading them wider apart as he notched the head of his cock against your crotch. His body trembled with restraint, sweat beading on his forehead as he fought to hold back.
In your blinding and mind-dulling trance, all you could feel was the intense heat pooling between your thighs and the velvety touch of his fur against your clammy skin, and so you clung to those feelings, allowing them to guide you through the fog. One of your hands ventured down to pull your pants past your hips, while the other gripped hard onto his fur. Your panties slid down as well from the force of your tug. With eager movements, you spread your thighs wider for him and stretched your folds open with your fingers offering him a good view of your glistening cunt.
At the sight of your bare, vulnerable sex, the mothman let out a strangled groan, his cock pulsing with renewed urgency. His eyes glazed over, and releasing one of your knees, he brought a hand to caress your inner thigh, his claw tips lightly scraping the tender skin.
The intoxicating scent of your arousal wafted up to him, mingling with the musky fragrance of his own heated pheromones, clouding his senses even further. His sensitive head rubbed across your swollen folds, his keen eyes flickering anxiously from your flesh to your face to gauge your reaction.
Once he figured out you were not in pain but rather eagerly clutching further onto his fur, his control snapped, and with a deep cry he pushed forward, the swollen head of his cock breaching your slick entrance with satisfying ease. His antennae vibrated furiously as he sank into your welcoming warmth, your tightness enveloping him like a glove.
For a moment, he just stayed still, relishing the feeling of being fully sheathed within you, of finally tasting te soothing warmth he had been so desperately craving for days but the urge to claim you, to impregnate you with his offspring, proved too powerful to resist. Slowly, he started thrusting in earnest, each snap of his hips burying him to the hilt inside you. While his fur muffled the rocking of his hips hitting yours, the wet squelch of your arousal filled the air and only encouraged him to rut into you with even wilder abandon.
You were a mess of shameless mewls and whimpers, your fingers driving into his thick fur till you could almost feel the skin beneath, your hips feverishly meeting his in your desperate and blind search for release. A release that was growing at an unfathomable speed within your belly, spurred by the blissful way his inhuman cock filled your every crevice, generating that familiar yet exquisitely new kind of pressure that hit its highest point as his proboscis-phallus jerked and erupted inside you. The phenomenal orgasm that hit you seemed to merge into an even more earth-shattering one when he buried himself deeper inside you. You felt your womb inflate, stretching to accommodate each little gelatinous orb that poured out of his cock and found its home in your warm depths.
The sensation of his eggs taking root inside you, combined with the sheer volume of cum pumped into your fertile womb, sent the mothman spiraling into a euphoric haze. His antennae quivered uncontrollably, brushing against your face as he continued to grind against you, ensuring every last drop took residence in your fertile core. As the last spurt subsided, he collapsed atop you, his panting breaths hot against your neck, his bulk pinning you to the forest floor and his wings wrapping securely around you.
A strangely exhilarating feeling flared up in your womb and propagated throughout the entirety of your body, causing your skin and insides to tingle. You felt no pain; in fact, you had never felt better. The best way you could explain the sensation is as if you were floating in the air among pillowy clouds, cocooned in the warmest embrace. This delightful feeling swiflty dragged you into a peaceful slumber, though not before you felt strong yet soft arms gather your trembling form and a gentle breeze blow through your hair.
a.n.: I feel like this is a weird one... mostly because I've never written about oviposition before and I haven't read much about it either so idk if this is how it's supposed to go lol but I guess this is my take on it, I hope you enjoyed it <3
centaur x human - mildly dubcon, hand job (monster receiving)
He does not like you. That's the only plausible explanation you can come up with after weeks of unsuccessful attempts to befriend him.
The newest addition to the farmhouse, a huge, majestic centaur with long dark hair and a glossy tawny coat black as pitch, whom you've been assigned to personally care for, seems to… loathe you.
Without any reason, you may add.
What reason could he possibly have when you’ve barely managed to make him look at you when you first introduced yourself? On that occasion, he quite literally threw you a brief glance and then turned around, almost hitting you with his rear. Despite your initial shock, you tried to not give too much thought to his rude manners. You tried to not be too quick to judge. Perhaps he needed time to get accustomed to his new home, perhaps you needed to earn his trust just like with the wild horses you’ve been working with. And so you tried to give him time and space, to treat him with all the respect and kindness and consideration that a creature like him deserves.
But the result has always been the same: his rear being shoved in your face.
You've tried everything you can to get his attention, to earn his attention, but perhaps you've been too nice thus far. Perhaps he needs a firmer hand. You’re quite tired of being ignored, avoided, disrespected. Why does he feel the need to ostracize you when you’re there to take care of his needs? To help him? Does he not understand that?
It’s early morning when you find him in his stall, carving wood - something you've seen him do frequently since he arrived at the farm, although you’ve never been able to see up close what he’s been working on. When he spots you approaching, he turns around and gives you his back - as usual. That doesn’t surprise you any longer. The hundredth rejection does however cause your blood to boil in your veins, and make you more determined than ever to make him respect you, as you deserve.
You take the horse brush from your work coat and march into his enclosure. He instantly huffs and shifts nervously in protest but there isn't much space for him to move and by blocking the gate you don't give him a chance to escape. He can't ignore you forever.
You are however painfully aware of how easily he could smash you against the wooden fence with his enormous and muscular body, or strike you with his hooves and seriously injure you... Though, you're hoping that his hatred for you doesn’t run as deep as to risk killing you.
You approach his side and begin brushing his mantle without saying anything, for words have so far proved to be futile with him. You are expected to tend to him, so that's what you're going to do from now on, whether he likes it or not. This is your job. This is what you're paid for. You will not let a spoiled snob of a centaur get you fired just because he refuses to let you perform your duties over who knows what stupid whim.
The centaur instantly grumbles in displeasure and tries to evade your touch but with little success. Your back hits the fence with a thud yet not hard enough to hurt you or make you stop.
"I'm going to take care of you, even though you do not deserve it." you state solemnly as you struggle to keep your brush on his coat with how much he squirms against your touch. "Now stop moving!"
"Go away! I don't need you!"
You're too annoyed with his actions to be startled by his response. It's the first time you've actually heard him speak, and his voice is so grave and rough, exactly as you'd expected, that you barely notice it.
"You do need me! Can you brush yourself? Can you? You can't even reach your back with your fingers!"
He huffs again and writhes sharply when you press the brush with more force against his side. He trashes around so much that he hits you again, but this time hard enough to make you stumble and fall, ass down on the ground. You let out an exaggerated sigh and squeeze your eyes closed for a moment as you try to calm your mounting frustration. Patting your clothes to clean them from the hay, you shake your head in disbelief and curse him under your breath.
You push your palms on the ground, ready to prop yourself back on your feet but the moment you raise your gaze, you see it; the enormous shape of his horse cock, long and erect, throbbing so hard its veins look like they're about to explode. You blink in shock at the sight, your mind going blank and your body instantly warming up.
Maybe, just maybe, this is why he has been avoiding you all along. Maybe, just maybe, he's been in pain all this time... and with no way to relieve himself of this ache. Maybe, just maybe, he was too embarrassed to let you any way near him.
Despite everything, it doesn't take long for you to come to a decision. Crawling underneath his belly, you reach out for his length and touch it ever gently with your fingertips. But even that light touch is enough to make him groan and recoil.
You grab onto his sides to avoid being stumped, holding tight until he stops writhing. One hand then reaches up for his cock again, palm closing around its girth.
"Don't… touch… it!" he groans through clenched teeth. You can hear the strain in his voice. He is indeed in pain.
"I'm here to take care of you, aren't I? So I will take care of you." you remind him firmly, a hint of sympathy edging your tone. Your palm starts to stroke back and forth, slowly, gently. Your first isn't enough to close around his whole girth so you soon add your other hand.
The huffs and groans and poorly restrained whimpers that leave his lips fill the empty stall.
His wriggling body soon starts to match the pace of your strokes, bucking against your hands. You gasp as he shifts abruptly, lifting his torso and resting his front legs against the wall, putting his weight on his hind legs which shake and shift a little behind you as he tries to find his balance. In this position he can better piston his cock in your palms, urgently, desperately. His full big balls smack against your arm at each thrust. It's scary to be under him like this, one wrong move and he could badly hurt you, yet at the same time, you feel in power. He searches your touch, he ruts into your fists, desperate for more friction, desperate for a release he's been craving for who knows how long.
"This is why you've been avoiding me, isn't it?" you say softly, the frustration of before gone entirely from your tone. You almost feel... pity for him. Such a majestic creature forced to depend on others to relieve himself.
He doesn't answer. But he doesn't need to. You know it's true.
It only takes a couple of minutes for him to grow tense and then jerk violently as he spills gallons of cum in the hay; white stripes even splatter over your work coat. You ease down on the ground, sitting on your heels, panting from the exertion, eyes darting from his spent cock to his trembling body. Your hand reaches up for his belly, gently caressing his soft coat to ease his tremors.
"I'm sorry..." you hear him utter, breathlessly, as he slowly eases down from the wall, careful not to knock you over.
You're not sure what he's apologizing for, if it's for the poor way he's been treating you from day one or for what has just happened. Either way, you accept it. Perhaps this is how you ‘turn over a new leaf’ and start anew.
"It's okay... It's okay." you coo softly, keeping on rubbing his belly. "I'm here for you… I hope you understand that now…"
The centaur seems to appreciate your words because he nudges your body with his side, not like before when he was trying with all his might to push you away. No. This time it feels more... affectionate. You pat his side with a soft chuckle and he huffs softly in response.
With a gracious movement, he bends down and retrieves something from the ground and extends it to you. Crawling away from under him, you take the brush from his hands and finally meet his dark but beamy eyes. There's a gentle expression on his face, one you've never seen graze his features before. You return his smile and gratefully take his stretched hand to prop yourself up. As you do, however, something sitting in the hay catches your attention and you reach for it. It's a half carved piece of wood, possibly the one he was working on when you came in.
"Oh, that's… uhm-"
You gaze up at him again, watching curiously as his cheeks flush and his look grow shy.
Your eyes return to the object, inspecting it with interest. The figure is still roughly shaped, but as you turn it in your hands you seem to recognize its features. Realization dawns on you when you notice it resembles... you.
Maybe you were entirely wrong. Maybe the explanation for his behavior towards you is that he likes you, though a bit too much.
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gyno!lizard man x afab!human - medical kink, gyno checkup, vaginal fingering
You have another gyno appointment today and you're already dripping wet before you even leave your house. It's always so embarrassing to spread your legs wide for your doctor and show him your drenched folds... He must know that you're so wet for him. He must know.
You really can't help it. You get so aroused even just at the thought of him, his long and thick reptile tail sprouting out from his white robe, his large scaly hands spreading you wide and probing at your pussy as he checks that everything's alright. It doesn't help at all that when he sees you enter his study he welcomes you so amicably, greeting you with such a genuine smile - he even called you his favourite patient once, and you're sure you turned into a puddle at once.
He always takes his gloves off when it's your turn because "with human genitalia he can better feel bumps or other anomalies without the gloves on"; you're almost sure that's just bullshit but... you don't care. The rough texture of his fingers rubbing against your sensitive walls makes you feel so fucking good, your whole body tingling in delight... You would never deprive yourself of it.
There's no appointment that ends without you cumming around his fingers at least once. It's just part of the routine, isn't it? He must make sure that everything works as it should. And your cunt works perfectly, oh sure it does. The most perfect and reactive pussy he's ever had the pleasure to take care of. You're his favourite patient for a reason.
I'm already working on a longer fic for this one, let me know if you'd like to be tagged 🫶🏻 [Update, I wrote it. You can read it here]
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I have a request! A himbo alien that is very incompetent at his job. He was tasked with abducting a cow and gathering samples from her, but took a human instead. He's still convinced that she is a cow and starts inserting equipment in her pussy and mouth. For some reason he is having trouble getting any milk samples no matter how much he squeezes her tits :( Oh well he does have a serum that should help... maybe a little too well.
Hiii! Thank you so much for your request! I've never written anything like this before but... I enjoyed it so much lol Hopefully you'll enjoy it, too. 💜
alien x afab!human - dubcon, alien abduction, four-armed monster, language barrier, forced lactation, multiple penetration, fingering, multiple orgasms
You were taking a break from ranch work. Laying on the grass, under the canopy of leaves of the largest tree in your fields, sheltering from the scorching sun. Normally, your cows would be there too, taking a nap beside you or simply strolling about, munching on the grass, however the vet had come in for their routine check-up, so they were all inside the farm, under the protective cover of their shed.
You were chilling, eyes closed, arms crossed under your head, a faint wind giving you that much needed reprieve from the oppressive heat. You were about dozing off to sleep when you felt your hairs stand on end. You only had time to catch a flash of blinding white light before everything turned black.
Muffled sounds reached your ears, unfamiliar noises your clouded mind couldn't decipher. Your muscles jerked as you tried to stretch your limbs, but they didn't move an inch; it seemed like they were blocked and forced to stay in that position. You felt pressure, an odd kind of pressure on certain areas of your body, as well as a cold touch against your knees and arms. Your eyes strained to open, still hazy and unfocused, but you glimpsed faint glimmers of light, white and blue, and shadows moving all around you.
You were uncomfortable. Something felt very odd, though you couldn't define what it was. Not yet.
A touch on your chin. Something or someone raised your head up and poked at your face to check whether you were still unconscious. Then a rough texture brushed across your lips, pulling them open and slipping a cold object into your mouth. The strain in your jaw was sharp, causing you to grimace and groan in protest, yet all you got in return was a pat on the head.
You heard a beep. Then came the sound of a machine whirring to life, and the pressure on your body switched to a suction feeling. You jolted, eyes snapping open and landing on your chest. The glass tube in your mouth partially obscured your view, but you could clearly see suction cups attached to your breasts with tubes that hooked straight into your turgid nipples, pumping and sucking as if they were trying to pull your whole soul out of your body.
You hardly had time to process the situation when another object probed your skin, seeking to slide inside your pussy. You recoiled, attempting to escape the intrusion, but to no avail; the shackles, which you could now clearly recognize as metal straps, kept your limbs immobile in a kneeling position with your ass pulled upwards. The same coarse touch you felt on your face before, you sensed on your ass cheeks, rubbing your flesh, seemingly trying to comfort you while the object, another glass tube, was being pushed, inch by inch, with great effort, inside of you. It stretched your walls so much you groaned and clenched around it, refusing the intrusion but whoever was doing this to you had no intention to stop. It stretched your legs apart furthermore, while fingers spread your folds and made another attempt to shove the device in. The sound of your muffled laments however only became louder, to which a weird clicking sound seemed to answer.
A rough texture brushed across your clitoris, possibly by accident, and the unexpected contact caused you to flinch and whimper. Perhaps you weren't supposed to react that way because the stranger abruptly halted its ministrations. Another sequence of clicks was heard, and they almost sounded confused to you, although it was possible that you were projecting your own understanding onto them in an attempt to grasp even a smidge of whatever was going on.
Another tentative, yet now deliberate, caress across your swelling bundle of nerves had you moaning and bucking your hips against it, unable to resist the pleasure it aroused within you, regardless of the messed-up scenario you were in. The textured surface, which you could now recognize as fingers, seemed to be spurred on by your response, adding pressure to their caresses, stroking your clitoris with ever-increasing rhythm and intent, until your hole was so slick that the object practically slipped inside on its own, filling you entirely. Another machine promptly switched on, and the oblong thing inside you began to vibrate, making your whole body tingle and quiver with delight.
The stranger walked in front of you, and for the first time since waking up, you were finally able to take in their appearance. You had no idea what you were expecting, but the alien-like thing standing before you was not it. It couldn't appear more alien even if it tried, you thought, with that blue mixed with silver skin and bits of pink sprayed here and there, making it look like a stunning galaxy painting. It had few human-like traits, and those that you could recognize were either of different color or shape or doubled... like its arms.
Its large, pale eyes were riveted on your breasts. You stared, shivering and wide-eyed, as three of his hands rested on its sides while the other went toward its face. Its long, bumpy fingers tapped on what you could only assume was its nose. The gesture almost resembled that of a human who was perplexed and appeared to ponder over something. The way it proceeded to turn off one of the machines and then kneel before you to remove the cups from your tits seemed to prove your thoughts.
Its fingers pinched at your nipples and pulled on them, squeezing your soft flesh with purposeful motion, almost in the same way you used to... milk your cows when you were younger and inexperienced. Its eyes flickered up to your face when you protested at the contact. It opened its mouth again, and you could see its rolled tongue hit its blunt teeth, producing that odd clicking sound you'd been hearing all along. You obviously had no idea what it meant, but you were certain you weren't supposed to understand it. It wasn't talking to you; instead, it appeared to be disputing with itself. A moment later in fact, the creature rose up and rummaged through the peculiar utensils on the glass-like desk opposite you. Your eyelids were starting to drop, weary from the building pleasure coiling in your lower belly. The way the tube buried in your cunt vibrated against your sensitive walls, causing them to flutter and clench around it, was becoming too much; you were unable to focus on anything else.
The alien returned to you, raising two hands to rub your breasts. There was lotion on its skin, and you could feel its moisture on your flesh. The thing made sure to coat your nipples with it, meticulously squeezing, pulling and pinching them so your skin could absorb whatever that stuff was. Your moans were muted by the tube in your mouth, but the alien could definitely hear you and it... mooed back at you? Or maybe you imagined it. Maybe all of this was a twisted, filthy fantasy that your imagination had concocted. Those four extraterrestrial hands that fondled your flesh and pinched your nipples couldn't be real, right? No, absolutely not. But most of all, there was no way milk could have begun to leak from your nipples, right? It didn't make any sense. And yet, you saw it, creamy white fluid spilling from your tits as the aliens squeezed them; your eyes widened at the shocking sight.
A high pitched clicking sound escaped the creatureìs lips as it hastened to place the cups back on your skin. You groaned loudly when you felt that suction force back against your nipples, sucking up your milk, letting it flow inside the connected tubes. It all felt a little too real for this to be a fucking dream.
With the device vibrating in your cunt and stimulating your clitoris, the cups sucking on your nipples, and the tube in your mouth collecting your saliva, you felt overwhelmed. The wicked pleasure simmering inside you peaked so abruptly that a blinding orgasm exploded in your gut, causing you to spasm violently and your eyes to roll back. The alien seemed delighted; otherwise, why would it stroke your head like that? As if to praise a well-behaved animal? As if you had just successfully performed a trick for him? It turned to the desk to tap on a translucent screen, noting what - you had no idea, not that you could form a single thought in your current state.
Your body was still spasming in aftershock when you felt the object in your walls stop vibrating and sucking in your juices instead. The sensation was as uncomfortable as it was toe-curling and it only prepared you for the coming of another violent orgasm once the tube started vibrating again… Then it went back to sucking. Then vibrating. Back and forth, again and again as you came and gushed your juices inside the tube. Your tits kept spilling drops and drops of milk during the entire time. Who knows for how long.
You were barely conscious after the fourth orgasm. The delighted clicking sounds of the alien and the touch of one of its hands caressing your hair were the only thing you could register before you passed out again.
When you awoke, you were back on your field, just where you were before the white flash had blinded you. You looked about, disoriented and bewildered, but everything was just as you remembered it. Maybe it was really all just a dream. You had probably seen too many messed-up movies that fueled your imagination. There was a weird tingling feeling in your body, though... A sensation you just couldn't shake... Perhaps it was only the lingering sensation of unease that the strange dream had caused... The overwhelming disorientation... But those damp spots upon the fabric of your top, right above your nipples? Well, those weren't there before.
🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me <3
gynecologist!lizard man x fem!human - medical kink, dub-con (is it?), gyno exam, vaginal fingering, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, soft dom/sub power dynamic, monster with human kink
You've been missing your doctor so much that you come up with a dumb excuse just so you can see him again.
3,7k.
The chill, comfortable aura of the clinic wasn't really helping soothe your nerves; your thighs were twitching and your hands sweating even more than usual. You pressed your palms on the fabric of your dress, attempting to stop your legs from shaking and wipe your skin.
You weren't scared. On the contrary, you were excited. Your jitters weren't caused by apprehension but rather by... anticipation.
Yes, anticipation. You had been waiting for this day. You had called in, asking for an appointment way before your routine check-up because you had been missing him terribly.
It was a wicked attraction. Deplorable even. You couldn’t help it, though. Just thinking of him made your whole body tingle in elation. You couldn’t control it. You couldn’t fight against it, no matter how much your mind implored you to.
“-see you in three months. If the issue resurfaces in the meantime, call me immediately so we can reschedule our appointment.”
You could hear a muffled but very familiar voice coming from behind the door. You squeezed your thighs, squirming on your seat, seeking out relief from the ache between your legs. You had been on the edge since you woke up in the morning, tensed up and wet even before you left your house to head to the clinic after lunch. The moment you’d see him again was getting closer and your body was growing restless. It was as if it ached for him, longed for his touch. Only he could give it solace.
The sound of steps grew closer. Your eyes were already locked on the door as it swung open, seeking to lay upon the source of all your sinful thoughts. A tall and lean elf woman stepped outside, lingering by the doorway, blocking your view of the room. Your jaw clenched upon seeing the saccharine smile plastered on her chiseled face.
“Thank you dr. Duskcale. I wish you good work. May Lady Arassea watch over you.”
“Ah- Thank you. Take care.”
You were burning holes into her skull, mentally ordering her to leave and you didn’t avert your gaze from her until you saw her walk away and disappear behind the corner. It was ridiculous to feel jealous over someone you had no right to lay any claim to, someone who had to deal and take care of plenty of people’s needs on a daily basis, as his job requested. Many people like you. Yet, it made your stomach churn to think that anybody else beside you could harbor similar sympathies for your doctor. In your mind you were… special. You were different. His behavior towards you implied so, you were sure.
“Y/N.”
His voice startled you. Your head instantly snapped towards the door and there you saw him, standing in all his imposing height, the white coat hanging open from his broad shoulders, its pristine color a stark contrast to the teal blue shade of his skin. His long scaly tail was resting heavy on the floor beside him, with just the tip raised from the ground, swaying gently in your direction. Your chest fluttered the moment your eyes met his and you noticed the small smile grazing his reptilian features. Frustration left your body at once, jealousy leaving room for gratification as he gave you yet another confirmation to your thoughts; you were the only one he would welcome in himself instead of sending his assistant. That had to mean something.
“You may come in.”
You nodded and followed him into his office. Your hair stood on end, feeling his almond bright eyes trained on your back. When you turned your head to look at him, his gaze was indeed traveling over your body, pupils dilating and contracting in that odd way that you had grown very fond of. You had heard reptilians had a superior vision than humans and most other creatures, some could even see infrared rays… You prayed the latter wasn’t the case for your doctor, otherwise he would be able to see how hot your blood boiled under his gaze. How incredibly warm he always made you feel.
“Such a beautiful dress you’re wearing today. It suits you perfectly.”
A bashful smile took form on your lips just like every time he complimented you and your appearance. No matter how many times he did it before - at least once during each appointment - he’d always take you by surprise. Perhaps it was his way as a doctor to create a more friendly and easy going environment for the patient, or perhaps it was something he did only with you. You preferred to think it was the latter.
“Thank you… doctor.”
He had encouraged you to call him by his first name after only a few visits, but you preferred to use his title since you enjoyed watching him adjust his coat on his large body and give you a long look every time that word left your lips.
“Please, remove your underwear and lie on the table.”
And perhaps he enjoyed how he was always able to affect you with that routine request. His keen vibrant eyes remained on you until you nodded and moved behind the room divider to undress.
You hurriedly removed your shoes and folded your soaking undies on the chair before returning to the center of the room. You tried not to pay too much attention to the cool air of the office meeting the dampness between your thighs. Your motions were rapid, almost hurried, yet sure as you hopped onto the table and laid on your back, shifting your body to find the most comfortable position. He approached you just as you were about to settle your feet on the footrests, his large rough palms gently wrapping around your calves to assist you. Your body buzzed with a wicked thrill as you watched him delicately roll the dress over your tummy to get it out of the way.
“There you go.” he whispered with that warm gentle voice of his, and you almost went into ruptures. Even with only a few simple words he could have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You were truly and utterly infatuated.
At that point it was impossible not to focus on the humid air touching your damp folds, spread out as you were in front of him, nor at any slight brush of his coat against your skin. He could even as much as exhale in your direction and your body would shiver in response.
You locked eyes with him as he rested his hand on your thigh and squeezed it softly, almost affectionately one would say - it certainly felt like that to you. Your walls instantly fluttered at the contact.
“So… What’s the matter? Something must have come up for you to take a new appointment before our routine checkup in three months.” There was a hint of concern in his tone as he said that, as well as in his gaze as he let it sweep your exposed pussy. He took a seat between your legs and his pupils started to do that weird thing again while he carried out the general pelvic examination. “I don’t see any changes from last time…”
As soon as his fingers made contact with your folds, your legs jolted and he halted his ministrations to look at you. Even from a seated position he towered over you so you could easily watch as his face scrunched up in a soft frown.
“Do you feel any pain?”
“Y-Yes… Well, no… Not exactly-”
His puzzled expression told you it was time to provide him with an explanation. It was time to reveal the ridiculous lie you had made up simply to have an excuse for seeing him again. When you went over it at home in the days leading up to the appointment, you didn't feel as silly and embarrassed as you did now that you stood - well, laid - in front of him. Despite how dumb you felt however, you couldn't avoid it.
"I recently started to see someone…a-a werewolf." you blurted out and instantly felt your stomach clench as you watched his eyes narrow. Did he… not like that? You had only seen him look that pensive, maybe even irritated, when he had to postpone one of your previous visits because his agenda was too full. He didn’t say anything about it though, so you cleared your throat and resumed with your lie. “He is very… uhm… endowed. Perhaps too much for me… So I'm afraid we can't… uhm-”
He hummed thoughtfully. His eyes were scanning your face now, peering at you as if he could see right through your blatant lie. Were you so easy to read? Or did he actually have some crazy eyesight abilities?
“Did you have intercourse with this… werewolf?”
You should have expected such a question, yet it caught you off guard, almost making you jump. One of his hands promptly moved to your upper thigh to knead your flesh as if wishing to ease your tension.
“I need to know in order to proceed.” he pointed out, his tone gentle and nurturing. “I’ve had many a patient who had very unfortunate encounters with such creatures. Werewolves tend to lose all lucidity when sexually aroused, especially when in heat. I should hope this wasn’t your case-”
“Oh, no no-! I-It wasn’t like that… Nothing really bad happened..”
“Well, that’s good to hear. But I still need you to answer.”
You nodded and bit your lip as you held his intense gaze.
"I did." you replied, watching his face harden. "B-But it didn't feel good so we stopped almost immediately!" You rushed to add, hoping that instead would please him.
You were mentally face-palming yourself at what you were saying. You hadn't really thought this through, you realized; you hadn't considered how nervous you'd be in his presence. Making up a lie was easy, saying it to his face was a completely different matter.
He was not pleased with that information, at all. He exhaled heavily, as if disappointed by what he had heard, and his gaze landed on your genitals once more. He stroked his fingers across the flesh of your inner thigh a few times before raising his thumb and slowly trailing it over your labia in a circular motion and then along your slit. His palm still resting on your thigh eased your instant tremors.
"He must not have had much experience if he couldn't manage to please you. He may not have prepped you adequately or at all... Inconsiderate, selfish beast."
The gruff note in his tone was something you'd never heard before, but it rivaled his typically sweet and gentle voice in the way it made your stomach twist and your body heat up. It's possible you made a mistake by bringing up a werewolf since he seemed to have a quarrel with those creatures, or perhaps that could ultimately work to your benefit...
"It's not your fault," he said, eager to comfort you, sounding like himself again. That honeyed voice of his and the following flick of his thumb on your clitoris had your butterflies fluttering. "You are healthy. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”
Your breath hitched as you felt the enlarged tip of his finger probe at your wet entrance, teasing contact that sent you quivering in anticipation. You gulped in a poor attempt to pace yourself.
“However, I do need to carry out a vaginal examination just to make sure he didn’t cause any damage.”
He looked back at you, eyes silently asking for your approval. Only when you meekly nodded did he move his free hand to rest upon your lower abdomen and turned the other palm-up as he slowly placed one finger inside your hole. It slid in quite easily - given how slick you were at that point - despite being at least two sizes bigger than a human finger.
You shuddered and turned your head to the side, making an effort to focus on anything besides him so as to release your muscles and delay the inevitable, which you sensed was already on its way.
Your wandering gaze landed on the tools on the nearby table: a speculum and other strange-looking metallic objects he had never used on you before. There were also lube and gloves. He had never used those either. You were always ready for his examinations, and lubrication would be wasted on you. And the gloves… You had seen him take them off when the patients before you would head out but he never, not once, put on a new pair for you.
He had given you an explanation at one point, as if picking up on your curiosity, stating that the large tips of his fingers were particularly sensitive to touch and could better detect irregularities when there was no layer between them and the surface being examined. His words made reasonable sense, although they didn't exactly explain why he wouldn't wear gloves for you, specifically. From that point on, you had more than once entertained the possibility that he actually enjoyed touching you with his bare hands…
You did now as well, that wicked thought redirecting your attention back to the finger exploring your channel and the friction caused by its scaly, bumpy texture rubbing against your sensitive walls. That rendered all of your efforts futile. You stiffened even more, unable to focus on anything other than the way it curled into your g-spot, hitting it insistently and expertly, until an orgasm crashed into you just a couple of seconds later.
You tried as hard as you could to mask it, sealing your jaw, stilling your tremors, gripping the edges of the table with your hands as hard as you could, but he could definitely feel you fluttering and gushing juices around him. You didn't look up, too embarrassed to meet his gaze, but you felt his palm fondly rub your tummy, which combined with the overstimulation, made it even more difficult for you to remain silent. You had to gnaw on the inside of your cheeks to muffle your moans, nearly to the point of bruising yourself.
If he sensed your orgasm, he said nothing about it as he kept on rubbing your throbbing walls. With your hole even more slick than before, he added another finger to the examination and pushed them both all the way to your cervix, curling them to reach that tender spot with his large fingertips. Your lips parted in a muted cry and your hand promptly rushed to cover your mouth.
“Do you feel any pain?”
He knew you felt no pain, he knew for certain but he still played the part, maybe because it aroused him just as much as it aroused you.
You hastily shook your head in response, your gaze returning to him to chance a look. You regretted it immediately. He was already staring at you, probably relishing your blushing and contorting face or perhaps even your stiffened nipples showing beneath the fabric of your dress. He seemed to have been waiting for you to look at him because the instant he had your attention, he stood up, opening your legs even wider, and pushed a third finger into you, forcing you to bite your lips to conceal a lewd whimper.
“He hurt you, didn’t he?”
You were too overwhelmed by the warmth and shivers rushing through you and forcing slick to gush from your hole to understand what he was referring to and so you simply nodded your head.
His face hardened again but the motion of his fingers didn’t falter. It remained slow, careful yet precise and deliberate. A touch that only someone like him could offer. A touch that would make anyone lose their right minds. It certainly made you lose yours.
You were totally unprepared when he inserted a fourth thick finger inside you, and you could not hold back a cry this time, nor stop your back from arching away from the table or your sock-clad feet to curl and fight against the footrests. The huge palm on your belly pressed gently but firmly into your soft flesh, pushing you back down onto the surface.
"It's okay… It's okay.” he crooned. “You’re a bit tight. Please, try to release your muscles… It will be easier.”
Release your muscles? You had barely any control over your body at that stage but you mindlessly obeyed, only to tense up all over again when you felt another finger probe at your entrance, meeting resistance. This time, he rushed to your aid by pressing his other thumb against your clitoris. The additional stimulation of its pad tapping and rubbing tight circles over your pulsing bundle of nerves did the trick and his fifth finger promptly slid in, filling you up so perfectly as if it had a place within you designed specifically for it.
“Mmm… Good. Very good."
The stretch was so insane, it took your breath away. You had his whole hand inside you. A hand that could easily exceed the huge girth of any werewolf’s cock, was moving in and out of you, fucking you leisurely, its fingers curling when deep inside your walls and hitting your cervix every damn time. You would have been trashing if he didn’t hold you still with his other palm resting on your hips, a palm that covered the whole expanse of your stomach. Even only the sight of it could make your insides melt in wicked pleasure and the thought that its exact twin was now buried inside you had your brain turn to mush.
“Is everything ok, sweetheart?”
You gasped, your eyes widened in shock and locked on him. He had never called you like that before. The sound of his lovely, warm voice addressing you in such an affectionate manner caused you to short-circuit. You watched, dumb and panting heavily, as his free hand stroked your belly and traveled possessively up your stomach, even past the rolled hem of your dress, nearly touching the swell of your breasts before trailing back down to settle on your lower abdomen in an intimate and protecting grip. His thumb came to contact with your swollen bud again, and you barely had time to register the knot snapping in your belly before your body began to spasm violently and your vision went white. Waves and waves of pleasure overwhelmed you, triggering every nerve in your system to send electric shocks to course through your body.
His fingers continued to move inside you, slower than before, guiding you through the aftershock, while his other hand tenderly caressed your tummy, providing a comforting touch that helped you ground yourself.
"That was such a... good response." He said and you thought you heard his voice crack through the haze clouding your mind.
His cool palm settled on your cheek, fingers wiping the drool of saliva rolling off your lip. You struggled to focus your vision back on him, your heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open and closed a couple times before you managed to fix your gaze back on his face.
"Did he stretch you out like I've just done? Did anyone ever do it?"
You lazily shook your head, chest heaving hard, gaze still hazy. A low threatening rumble reached your muffled ears but it was gone before you could pinpoint what it was.
"That's very unfortunate. I'm sorry you had to encounter such miserable individuals."
His fingers finally slid out of you with a lewd squelching sound that made your walls flutter and your face redden. His eyes were trained on your slick cunt, fingertips gently dragging along the slit, smearing your juices from your hole to your clitoris and back, causing you to jerk at each touch.
"Some beasts shouldn't be allowed to be intimate with anybody." he grumbled, eyes attentively following the movement of his fingers against you. "Especially not with creatures so fragile...so precious…”
It looked like he was talking to himself rather than to you. His tone was so soft you could barely hear it but packed with emotion. His head bent down towards you as if attracted like a magnet, and his jaw parted to reveal his forked tongue. The tip flicked through the air with clear purpose...
Was he tasting your scent?
“You deserve so much better…”
His shocking words made your still tender body shudder and a gasp erupt from your lips. The sound seemed to break him out of whatever trance he'd fallen in. His eyes met yours, and the slit in his pupil narrowed so much to turn into a thin line. He drew back abruptly, as if he had caught himself upon doing something inappropriate. Turning to the adjacent steel table, he grabbed the paper towels and cleaned you with newfound self-control.
“I… need to see you again. Soon. As soon as possible.” He announced as he walked to his desk, discarding the dirty towels on the way. He sat and buried his smooth snout in his agenda, scanning over the pages with ever-growing irritation.
You still didn't feel completely like yourself as you eased down from the table and anchored your unsteady legs on the floor. Silently, you moved behind the divider with quick mindless steps and pulled your panties back on as well as your shoes.
When you came back out, he was standing in front of the desk, facing you and looking rather disappointed.
“We’ll have to see each other next week. Same day, same hour. I postponed some appointments but this is the best I could do.”
You simply nodded, unsure of what to say. You didn’t really trust your voice yet, anyway.
"I must ask you to abstain from attempting penetration again with that werewolf... or anybody else, if possible. Until I finish with your treatment."
You hadn’t the faintest idea what kind of treatment he was referring to but you didn’t dare ask. Whatever excuse he had for having you come over again worked for you. At least you didn't have to make up another stupid lie yourself.
His bright eyes seemed to pierce you, as though expecting your agreement, and you rushed to answer.
"I w-won't see anyone."
"...Good."
You both fell quite for a moment. Your gazes were locked but your mouths were sealed shut. Neither of you risked giving voice to your thoughts, nor acknowledge the obvious tension buzzing between you two.
He broke the silence first by clearing his throat.
“I hope you have a good week, Y/N. It's been… a pleasure to see you again.”
You took a long breath, hoping to ease your thundering heartbeat. Oh, you were hooked. Totally smitten with him… and whatever had happened only a couple minutes earlier made you believe that he had a soft spot for you, too.
“It's been a pleasure for me too… Adryan.”
🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me ♡
roommate!werewolf x afab!reader - roommates to lovers, sexual frustration, (slightly) dub-con, dry humping/frottage, thigh job, impact play, cum play, degradation kink if you squint
3,4k.
Writing stories is a lot of fun. It's a passion for you, something you enjoy doing in your spare time, but you also see it as a way to release emotions that would otherwise weigh on you. Typically, you prefer romance although your stories always end up being far spicier than anticipated. That may reveal something about you, specifically that you need a good fucking, but staying at home all the time and never socializing with anyone doesn't pair well with being sexually active. Last time you let a not-fictitious being fuck you must have been not less than 80 stories ago; 5k words each, mind you.
The only non-fictitious being you interact with on a daily basis is your roommate, Alexis, also known as the 'good boy'. You call him that on occasion simply because you love the way his long fluffy tail eagerly wiggles back and forth, in stark contrast to the grimace he always gives you in answer to your playful mocking. He's also a 'good boy' because he never caused you any trouble in the six months you've been sharing a flat. He is clean, not nosy or noisy, and rarely invites people over, which is a huge plus for you.
Another major benefit of having Alexis as a roommate is that you basically have a living, breathing prototype for the protagonists in your works of fiction. Perhaps it sounds weird, but you've used him as the base of the love interests in your romances more times than you probably should have... Does that imply that you're in love with him? No! Well, not exactly. You could say you are attracted to him. You enjoy his presence, his massive presence, as well as his grave but sweet voice, his kind eyes, his long snout that screams 'pat me! pat me!', his long muscular arms that could so effortlessly sweep you up and...
Anyway. You like the dude. As in, he's a good friend who also happens to be very good to look at. You've done your best to separate him from the dozens of characters he has inspired thus far, and you'd like to keep it that way. Separate. Luckily, he is unaware of your… recreational activity. And he'll never know about it.
However, while your mind has managed to make things feel acceptable and not as odd as they actually are, what your body does is a very different story. Writing erotica has an undeniable impact on the writer, especially if you're describing fantasies you've indulged in far too many times before. What that entails for you is that you're aroused on a regular basis. And the fact that the character from your stories is walking around the house, chatting with you and parading around the very assets you fawn over in your wildest dreams makes it even more difficult for your body to remain partial... Makes things all the more wet, to be precise. Yes. Sometimes it's so uncomfortable that you have to take care of it right away, cleaning up and changing your underwear before returning to your chores. Other times, you just get on with your day despite your damp panties. You're used to it by now, so it's not a major issue for you…
It's a major fucking problem for your roommate, though. You have absolutely no idea. You can't even begin to imagine how challenging it is for a werewolf like him to ignore the scent trail you leave behind wherever you move inside the house. It's actually maddening! A torture! If he didn't know you better, he'd assume you were doing it on purpose just to drive him nuts. He tried to remain unaffected, to suppress his urges, but weeks after weeks after weeks, your scent became all he could smell inside the house, inside his own bedroom; even the food tasted like you! He considered moving out, to avoid the risk of doing something he would definitely regret. He does not want to hurt you, of course. It could be a situation beyond your control or a health issue. What does he know? What he knows is that he can't handle it anymore! He can't focus on anything else but your sweet mouthwatering fragrance that makes him hard all the fucking time. He ought to do something about it. He needs to! Before he loses his mind completely.
He's oh so very close to losing it when he barges into your bedroom one evening while you're tapping away on your keyboard, as usual. The sudden bang of your door being forced open makes you jump on your seat, and your eyes instantly snap to him. They widen in shock at the sight of his disheveled state; his shirt is unbuttoned all the way down to his hips, his belt unfastened and the zip of his jeans is halfway down, making his enormous bulge stand out even more. You divert your gaze from it as soon as possible, locking eyes with his instead. But his gaze is no better. His pupils are dilated, and he stares at you as though you're a piece of raw meat. He has never looked so feral before.
“A-Alexis?”
He growls in response, his legs twitching as if he’s ready to pounce on you, but instead he moves his clawed hands to his head and runs them through his ruffled fur in a calming gesture, one you’ve seen him do before whenever he got a bit too fired up.
“I can’t take it anymore-” he rasps, taking a deep breath before fixing his piercing stare on you again. “Whatever it is, you need to take care of it. As soon as possible.”
His words don’t make any sense to you. What should you take care of? Did you forget to take out the trash today? What day is it? No, it’s a tuesday, it’s his turn-
“Did you hear me?”
His voice genuinely rattles you, you’ve never heard him sound so upset before. You must have really pissed him off somehow.
“I’m sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about-”
He doesn’t seem to hear your answer though, for he starts to move his snout back and forth, from one side of your room to the other, sniffling as if something has suddenly caught his attention. A deep puzzled frown emerges on your face as you watch him step further inside your room, scoping his surroundings like a hound searching for a bone, until he comes to a halt in front of your wardrobe and slams it open without asking for permission.
“What are you doing?”
He ignores the hint of apprehension in your voice and starts to rummage through your clothes so carelessly that you fear he will tear them all to shreds.
“Alexis! What the heck-!”
He growls in frustration, his clawed hands finding purchase on the cabinet door frame, causing the wood to creak under his grip. You can't see his face since he's still buried deep inside your wardrobe, but you can clearly hear his frantic sniff sniff sniff as he obstinately pursues the source of the smell that apparently irritates him so much he turns into a literal beast.
You’re unsure whether to approach him in this state or just wait for him to put an end to whatever’s happening, but before you can come to a conclusion, Alexis crouches down with a satisfied huff and pulls back from the wardrobe with…
"My dirty laundry…?"
You give him an odd look as he drops the basket on the floor in front of you. Is this the source of the smell that bothered him? But there's no foul odor coming from it, at least not one that you can smell. There's not much inside after all, only a towel and...
Your eyes widen as Alexis reaches out with his hand and grabs a pair of dirty undies from the basket, instantly sending your face blushing with heat and your stomach flipping in embarrassment.
"Wha-! P-Put that back!" You stutter, clearly flustered, attempting to steal your underwear from his grasp, but he quickly moves them out of your reach, bringing them to his nose and taking a good sniff. Your face turns even more red at the sight.
"This." he growls, peering down at the fabric, his gaze fixated on the still damp patch sitting in the center. "This is the problem."
You're too mortified to argue with him about it, so you quickly blurt out, "I'm washing it right away, okay? Now give it back!" as you reach out again, only for him to jerk his arm away a second time.
"No. You do not understand. It's not just today," he says, clutching your underwear in his palm and piercing you with his golden eyes. “It’s everyday. Everywhere. I can only smell this.”
Oh.
Oh.
So… all this time… he could smell your…
Shock roots you to the spot. You’re left gaping at him, lips moving yet no sound comes out of your mouth. You had no idea. You didn’t even think about it. If you knew, maybe you could have refrained from writing so much, every damn day… You could have gone to a cafè instead of staying at home… Or you could have at least been a tad more careful-
"What's got you so worked up every fucking moment?" he asks, huffing in exasperation and looking around your room as if seeking the root of your problem, until his gaze settles on your desk. "You're always on your computer, tapping on that damned keyboard. I can hear you from my own room. You've got a long distance relationship or something?"
"I…I’m sorry. I d-didn’t mean to uhh… upset you?” You fumble over your words, struggling to find an appropriate response to this ridiculous and surreal circumstance, while simultaneously stepping back in front of the computer to hide it from his observant eye. "This won't happen again... Alright?"
His brow raises in interest, ears perking up and golden eyes peering into yours. You're sure he can tell how nervous you are. Gosh, you know now he must also be able to smell how shamefully aroused you are at the chance of being caught, your secret dirty hobby being exposed.
"Whatcha hiding, mh?" he taunts, taking a step closer, amusement and vexation mixing in a lethal combo. He cranes his neck to look behind you, but you're too close to the screen for him to catch a glimpse of it. "A secret lover? I'll grant you permission to let them come over. Maybe that will help you."
You're physically shaking with both dread and excitement, your wide eyes locked on his face, your hands reaching out to shove him back. Your stomach flips as you realize your palms have made contact with the fur on his chest and heat instantly pools in your abdomen when you spot the dilation of his pupils; they get so wide his golden irises almost disappear.
Before you have any chance to avoid it, he has you imprisoned against his body, his palm wrapped around the back of your neck, burying your face in his chest while he bends over to your computer. Your complaints are muffled by his fur, and your hands clutching at his sides are merely giving him a massage. There's nothing you can do against him. He is too big and strong... and warm, and soft, and he smells like fresh grass after rainfall. Oh, it’s even better than what you imagined…
You feel his muscles tense up around you just a moment before a loud bark of hearty laughter erupts from him, rumbling in his chest against your cheek and pulling you out of your reveries.
“Hunter’s Moon! That’s what you’ve been doing all along?” He pulls you back by tugging at your hair, his eyes full of mirth - and maybe a hint of mockery - as he stares down at you. “That’s what makes you so wet all the time that I can’t fucking breathe?”
“T-That’s not-!”
You're so ashamed that you'd rather combust into millions of particles and disappear right now. But there's also that wicked part of you that is pleased to hear you've had such a profound effect on him with your scent. The same side that relishes the way he's holding your hair, looking down at you, and laughing.
“You want a beast to fuck you?”
The way he spits out those words makes you shudder, and all you can do is stare up at him, astonished. His other hand moves to your face, grazing the outline of your cheek with the back of his clawed fingers, making your taut body shiver even more, your stomach doing somersaults. He can certainly feel it. He can see the desire wallowing in your wide shiny eyes. And it excites him.
“Oh, sweetie. You could have just said so.”
And with that, he has your heart bursting downright out of your chest as he twists you around and bends you onto your desk, your fingers grasping the edge, your head almost colliding with your computer's screen. His hand pushes on the small of your back, causing your body to arch and your bottom to stick out. You feel his erection push against your jeans, directly against the crack of your ass, as he bends over you, his hot breath brushing the shell of your ear.
“Who would have thought you were so naughty…” he whispers slowly, voice laced with amusement. "Writing about werewolves ravishing you…" His free hand creeps over your hip and slides towards your belly. "Destroying your little human holes…" His fingers creasing and raising the thin fabric of your tee as they dig into the soft flesh of your abdomen, steadily crawling lower. He laughs again, blowing warm air into your skin when he notices you whimpering quietly and trembling under his touch.
“Isn’t that what you write about, mh? Why don't you read it for me?"
Your eyes widen, and you meet his amused look with a shiver that runs down your spine and lands between your thighs. He gives you a wolfish grin before nudging your head with his snout and turning it towards the screen. "C'mon. Read it."
You can't think clearly, let alone focus on the text on the white screen. Your heart is racing and the heat in your lower abdomen is becoming unbearable. If only he moved his fingers lower to offer you just a little relief...
“Start from the line that says how the beast rips your pants apart… That sounds like fun.”
You’re panting so hard already and he’s barely touched you. You have to swallow a couple of times to clear your throat and moisten your dry mouth before you’re able to speak again. But even then your voice comes out shaky and subdued as you start reading your own wicked fantasies out loud.
“...he groped the round sphere of her ass, massaging her flesh as if to prepare her for what was about to come-”
You yelp as you feel both his palms land on your ass, groping you over the fabric of your pants.
“Keep going. Don’t leave me hanging…” he croons teasingly in your ear, giving your cheeks a squeeze as an incentive.
You take a shuddering breath and then exhale, hoping to calm your frenzied heartbeat - as if that’s possible in a situation like this - and resume reading from where you left off.
“...a loud gasp of shock escaped her lips when his hands pulled at her pants and ripped the fabric apart as if it was made of paper-”
And with that, your pants are gone too, leaving only a few bits of fabric hanging around your thighs. You don’t even care about your clothes right now, you just want him to take you. You need him. You want him so badly.
His claws run along your panties, purposefully missing the wet spot sitting right at the center. Your legs weakly buckle in protest.
“What about these? What happens to her soaked panties?”
“Ripped apart as well.” you answer forthwith, pushing your ass back to seek more friction and thus sending him laughing at your eagerness.
His fingers coil around the fabric's edges, yanking at it as if ready to tore it, only to let go and snap the elastic band against your skin.
"Nah. I think I'll keep them on for now," he muses, his voice still cracking with amusement as if he's thoroughly enjoying torturing you and driving you insane.
Your indignant cry rapidly turns into a shocked gasp as you feel something long and hard shove against your panties-clad folds. When you look down, your jaw falls at the sight of his huge throbbing cock stroking against your cunt back and forth, its dark pink skin already glistening with your juices dropping through your drenched underwear.
"So wet…" he croons, nestling his face in the crook of your neck. His moist nose brushes against your boiling hot skin, giving you chills. "So wet for me."
He keeps moving against you, maddeningly slowly, making you quiver with both pleasure and desperation. Breathy whimpers and moans fall from your parted lips, mirroring the rhythm of his thrusts.
"A-Alexis… please…"
You’re begging him to fuck you. He knows that. It's so obvious. It pleases him greatly, yet he won't let your precious little cries deter him from his own plans. His movements almost come to a halt as his warm, wet tongue slides out of his mouth and licks the side of your neck.
“You’ve driven me mad for months.” he growls in your ear, frustration once more edging his tone. His hands eagerly reach for your thighs and push them together to squeeze his cock between your soft flesh. You moan in response, surprised and satisfied by the additional friction, although still frustrated by the emptiness you feel inside you, with your walls clenching desperately around nothing.
“Now it’s my turn.”
A jolt of pleasure strikes your core as his arms wrap around your middle and he starts to buck his hips against your ass at a punishing pace, rocking your whole body with such force that you’d be slamming against the desk if he wasn’t holding onto you like a vice.
You whine and mewl ever louder, the knot in your lower belly tightening at an alarming rate. Your hands grasp onto his strong arms, fingers tangling in his fur, while your head bobs feverishly upon his shoulder.
“A-Alexis… I-I'm- I’m!”
His moist nose taps on your neck, tongue lapping at your skin, as his cock keeps on bullying your poor swollen folds. The fabric of your underwear is so wet at this point that it's almost as if it's not even there; you can feel him entirely, rubbing your small bundle of nerves with every thrust.
"Already?" His laughter vibrates through your writhing body, heightening the friction between your thighs.
You try to hold back, a little offended by his derision, wanting to last a bit longer, but with a harsh yank of his hand, he pulls your panties to the side and finally seals your fate. Tendrils of pleasure ignite from your core, sending you spasming sharply in his grasp,your cunt gushing cum on his length.
He growls in your ear, tightening his hold and lifting you off the ground while chasing his own high. Feeling you contort in ecstasy and soak his cock has excited him viscerally, and it's only a matter of minutes until he follows you, shooting his sperm into your panties and mixing his juices with your own. You're both left panting, breathless, and light-headed, your bodies buzzing with the last shreds of bliss.
Alexis adjusts your underwear, cupping your cunt to ensure you feel his cum smear across your tender flesh. You whimper lazily in response, turning your head to glance up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He meets your gaze with his own glazed look and smiles, that wolfish smile that inspired oh so many stories.
You need more. You want him. You want to feel him inside you. This was not enough. Not enough to satisfy months and months worthy of fantasies and soaking panties.
As if sensing the need within you, Alexis raises his hand to your hair and caresses it with newfound affection.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll give you plenty to write about..." he teases and grins at the way your eyes seem to lighten up at his words, only to see your face fall a second later as he adds: "In due time."
He gives you a playful smack on the ass and then walks out of your room, snickering.
"Whatcha having for dinner?
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