BLOG

“Where did he touch you?” 

Dalthu lowered his head between Samson’s legs, and Samson could feel the orc’s hot breath puff urgently against his skin. It tickled the sensitive area. 

“Here?” The orc delivered an experimental lick across Samson’s asshole. 

“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.

As Baronk pulled back to thrust his entire length into him, Samson squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable pain. Then . . .

RARRRRGHHHH!

Samson’s eyes snapped open with a gasp.

Dalthu?!

Samson struggled against his abductor, kicking his legs against whatever he could. He was thrown to the ground. His arms were pulled behind him, and it felt like a giant weight was placed onto his back. His face was pushed into the dirt and he couldn’t breathe.

“Stop fighting and I’ll let you breathe.”

The next morning Dalthu was strangely reserved. He re-wrapped Samson’s ankle and assisted him onto the back of their wolf, but otherwise did not touch him more than he had to. It made Samson anxious. 

The last night’s adventure had shaken him to his core. He couldn’t stop thinking about the things Dalthu had done to him and the overwhelming pleasure he’d experienced. It was unlike anything he’d ever known. Just thinking about it was causing him to shift restlessly in his seat.

“DALTHU!” Samson screamed as the orc’s finger slipped just inside his asshole.

It burns!

Dalthu leaned down to Samson’s ear. “Can you feel my finger opening up your hole?” he whispered. “Soon you will learn to take my cock in your ass. I will enjoy teaching you how to pleasure me.”

“That hurts! It’s too much, please, gently!” Samson begged, gasping in pain as he was stretched. “Please, it hurts.”

“WE’RE UNDER ATTACK!”

Dalthu jumped to his feet, quickly stuffing himself back into his trousers. He scooped up Samson, still dazed from his orgasm, and dropped him into a thicket of bushes.

“Stay there,” he snarled, and charged toward the main campfire. 

Samson trembled. He could hear screams and the clashing of weapons. What had attacked them? Who was crazy enough to challenge an orc raiding party?

Maybe humans? Samson thought hopefully. Perhaps his village had hired mercenaries to try to save him? 

The morning came quickly, and before long the horde was off again.

Samson sat in front of Dalthu, naked under his loose robe. His bottom rubbed painfully against the hard saddle as he was held firmly against the orc’s body. 

He made eye contact with another one of the male prisoners. His eyes were wide and darted frantically toward each captive. When he caught Samson’s gaze, he began blinking rapidly. Samson’s eyes widened. The man was using a form of communication they had in the village.

“Sit.”

They had been traveling for days, and Samson’s body, unaccustomed to riding for so long, was aching. He shook his head; he wanted to stretch his legs.

“I said, sit. I’m going to build a fire.”

Samson cast a quick glance around at their surroundings. 

“If you try to run I will catch you, and it will be the belt again.”

Samson was in the field gathering crops when it happened. The warning bell rang from the watchtowers.

Orcs!