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.”
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.