Illustration by SmikeArt

Captured by the Orc

Chapter Nine: Inside and Out

 

“Show me your ass.”

 

Dalthu moved toward Samson with the instrument. It looked like a wineskin, but instead of wine, this one held soapy water. A hollow reed was attached to the swollen bladder. If you applied pressure to the sack, the tube would direct the flow of water wherever you liked. Samson was certain he knew where Dalthu planned to direct it, and he was certain he was not going to like it.

 

“No thanks.” Samson grabbed the edge of the bathing pool and began to clamber out. 

 

A low warning growl echoed in the room and Samson froze. Dalthu’s face appeared calm, but his lips thinned into a dangerous line as he said, “I gave you a command, breeder.”

 

So it’s “breeder” now, is it?

 

He knew he didn’t want an angry orc on his hands, but he also didn’t want the damnable contraption anywhere near him. “I’m clean enough.” 

 

“Do you think I will allow even a speck of Baronk’s filth to stay inside you?”

 

That brought Samson up short.

 

Is that what he’s worried about?

 

After the assault, Dalthu had acted strangely. Swinging between gentle and anxious, the dark green warrior had seemed more restless than ever before. 

 

It’s over now though, isn’t it?

 

“It’s fine!” Samson placated. “He didn’t do that much.”

 

That was the wrong thing to say. Gold eyes narrowed, Dalthu darted forward and closed the gap between them. The orc flipped Samson face down and held him bent over across the ledge of the stone tub. Samson flailed helplessly.

 

“Stop! You cannot—”

 

“I can,” Dalthu bellowed. “You are mine. My mate. Do you understand? Every second that he is allowed to remain on you is an insult.”

 

Samson choked back a sob. Bad enough that he had been attacked and toyed with against his will, now he was to be laid bare and emptied out like an animal? It was too humiliating.

 

“Please,” Samson whimpered. He reached back and took Dalthu’s hand. “Please.”

 

Dalthu’s grip softened, but his nostrils were still flared out in anger. Samson tried again. 

 

“Please, let me.”

 

Dalthu gave a rueful laugh. “You think you can?” he said. “Go on. Show me. Show me you can do it.”

 

Samson swallowed and reached his hand out for the instrument, but Dalthu held it away from him with a devilish grin.

 

“Isn’t there something you need to do first?”

 

Do first?

 

Samson’s confusion must have been obvious because the orc’s smile grew wider. “You must prepare yourself, little tiger.” He leaned in close and purred in Samson’s ear. “Would you like me to show you?” 

 

Samson jerked his head, trying to ignore his pounding heart. “I can do it.”

 

Dalthu shrugged and held up a bottle of oil. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt my property.”

 

Cheeks burning, Samson grabbed the bottle and dispensed a small amount on his index finger. He reached down between his cheeks, feeling for his opening.

 

“Too slow,” Dalthu said, and spread Samson’s ass cheeks apart with his hands, earning himself a startled yelp. 

 

“I said I can do it!”

 

“How will you do it if you can’t even find it?” 

 

“I—it’s not like I’ve done this before—” Samson grumbled.

 

Golden eyes widened in mock surprise. “Even an orc child knows where their asshole is. Are you saying you don’t know more than an orc child?”

 

He knew he was being baited, but Samson couldn’t help but respond. Gritting his teeth, he plunged his finger into his bottom.

 

“Ah—ha . . . there, s–see?” Samson gasped. He wiggled his finger in until it was up to the second knuckle. “T–told you—”

 

Something was wrong. Samson had been spread open before by the orc’s large fingers, so why, when it was his own much smaller fingers, did it hurt more? 

 

This doesn’t feel right.

 

“What are you waiting for?” Dalthu teased gently. 

 

“I—I don’t like it—”

 

“We’ve been over this, little tiger—”

 

“No! No, I mean, it doesn’t feel the same.”

 

Dalthu furrowed his eyebrows, confused. “The same—”

 

“I–It doesn’t feel . . .” Samson stammered, the back of his neck burning, “like when you did it.”

 

The room went silent. All Samson could hear were the soft plops of water dripping off their bodies onto the floor. “You know,” Dalthu said, “you really shouldn’t tempt me so much.”

 

With one motion, Dalthu flipped Samson around onto his back. Taking both his legs by the back of the knee, the orc pressed Samson’s legs to his own chest. “Hold them.” 

 

“Wha—w–wait—”

 

With access granted, Dalthu peeled Samson’s ass cheeks open and went to work. Samson jerked when he felt the orc touching the opening between his legs. 

 

“So pink.” 

 

“S–shut up!” Samson tried to kick his examiner, but the seasoned warrior was quick and caught Samson’s legs, returning them back to his own hands.

 

“I need to see properly. Be still.” 

 

Lust glittered in the orc’s golden eyes, and Samson hated that his heart beat just a little bit faster.

 

Dalthu coated his fingers with oil. He smoothed it over his fingers, up and down as if his hand was a cock. When he was satisfied, his hand disappeared out of Samson’s sight.

 

“Take a deep breath,” Dalthu said.

 

Samson obeyed, sucking in air, as his body was pierced by the brutal presence of Dalthu’s finger.

 

“Mmmgghh,” Samson moaned as his anus was forced open by the orc’s finger, the digit moving deeper, in and out, lubricating his tract. A pleasant tingling was growing in Samson’s belly.

 

This. This is the feeling.

 

Then Samson felt something different. The velvet-covered steel of Dahthu’s finger was replaced by something cold and hard. One push against his greased opening and it slipped in. Samson gasped as his asshole was suddenly and swiftly filled with the foreign object, unyielding as it ran up his lubricated back passage. 

 

Dalthu pulled the shaft a couple of inches out, before pushing it back in again, this time going deeper. 

 

Samson lifted his hips, spreading his legs, trying to relieve the feeling deep inside him.

 

“Breathe,” Dalthu coached. “You will feel the water rushing into you. It will be hot and cause you to sweat. You will feel a little pain when it begins to move into you here,” he pushed on Samson’s lower belly and Samson couldn’t help the moan that came out. “Remember, you must hold the water in.”

 

Samson had never felt anything like this before. The strange feeling as his insides began to fill caused him to buck against Dalthu’s grasp, trying to escape, but the orc’s large hands held him tightly.

 

“Stop!” A sharp pain caused him to cry out, the water now rushing deep inside him. His abdomen began to swell. He wanted to close his legs, but Dalthu’s body kept him spread. “No more,” he begged helplessly.

 

Dalthu responded by squeezing the bag and sending another torrent of water rushing into Samson’s bowels. Samson squirmed in anguish as he was unmercifully filled.

 

“Good boy, you’re almost done.” The orc gave the bag another quick squeeze, shooting the last flood of water deep into Samson’s colon.

 

“I’m going to pull the reed from you now and replace it with my finger. You’re going to have to hold the water for a while so it can penetrate the walls and cleanse them before you release it. I want you to squeeze very tight and don’t let it escape. It’s important that you hold it or we will have to do it again. You don’t want that, do you, little tiger?”

 

“Where—er, where can I go to let it out? I don’t think I’ll be able to wait.”

 

“You will release it here.”

 

“NO! What? No, God, you’re not going to watch—”

 

“Shall I take your mind off of things?”

 

The orc’s large, warm hand grabbed Samson’s hard cock and stroked it up and down. The sensation above and below combined and Samson threw his head back and arched his back as a hurricane of pleasure swept through his body.

 

“Can you come for me? Hm?” Samson could barely register the orc’s words over the sound of his pulse pounding in his head. “If you come, I will release my finger and let you drain the liquid filling your bowels.”

 

Samson couldn’t help beginning to hump against the fingers massaging his dick, feeling like he would do anything to stop the cramps. 

 

“Yes, that’s good, show me the places you love to be touched.”

 

With both his prick and asshole being aroused, Samson bounced his hips up and down, and flashes of pain and pleasure bolted in his brain. He see-sawed back and forth between pushing the orc’s finger into his anus and his cock into Dalthu’s hand until he could no longer hold his orgasm back. 

 

“I can’t take any more . . . It won’t stay in!”

 

“That’s fine, let it out then. Let it all out . . . and I’ll watch.”

 

“I can’t . . . I can’t do that. You . . . get out!

 

“I want to see it. Show me . . . everything you are.”

 

“Please Dalthu . . . I don’t want you to see me do something so dirty . . . Please let me do this privately . . .”

 

“You are mine. I chose you. There is not a part of you that is dirty.”

 

“It’s coming—”

 

“Let it out.”

 

"NOOOOOO!” 

 

The orgasm swept his body away. Samson screamed in ecstasy as his cock jerked violently, spewing his load as his asshole suddenly emptied of fingers. The liquid shot out of his hole with such force that it opened his anus wide. It clamped shut, only to open again, another torrent of water shooting out before closing again. This time two fingers entered again, triggering another wave of ecstasy. He humped up and down on the fingers like a dog in heat, his sphincter puckering open and closed. His anal tract spasmed with each surge of his orgasm. 

 

There was a moment Samson believed that he might be dead. But then he felt warm water spraying over his body, a soft hand running over his skin, lightly cleaning him. It touched his anus and spread it open; he felt the gentle water cascading over his pucker. Samson lifted his head. Dalthu’s eyes were dark and he was panting like he was holding back the hounds of hell.

 

“Now that that’s done . . .” Dalthu licked his lips and lowered himself between Samson’s legs. “I will erase his touch with my own.”

 

Samson shuddered. 

 

Bath time was not over yet.

 

To Be Continued . . .