Ye Tavern Of A Winter's Eve
A little bit of fiction starring Jakken! This ficlet contains: Explicit porn, forced seduction/noncon, crying, light bondage, spanking, excessive penetration, excessive cum, sensory triggers: taste/smell, face-fucking, snuggling
Eilyn sensed trouble the minute they entered the tavern, blown in on a gust of winter wind. Rowdy, armed, flush from some battle or contest they had obviously won, they tumbled into the Rusty Jug in a tangle of green, gray, and brown limbs. Some were full orcs, some were half-bloods, but their camaraderie was clan-thick, back-slapping and shoulder-pounding without regard for blood purity. They took over two tables and barked for drinks, their speech distorted by tusks and underbites. They smelled like feral musk and cured leather, and they emphasized their grunting, guttural speech by pounding the table and stomping the floor.
Eilyn ducked behind the bar and glared at Fargan Rust. His employer was human, jowly and red-faced. Eilyn despised his sour-smelling flesh and feared his temper, but he pleaded his case regardless. “I won’t go upstairs with any of them.”
“You will if the coin’s good,” Rust replied. “Or you’ll find another place to whore.”
Outside, the snow was soft but the wind was bitter. Tavern owners hiring servers and whores were spoiled for choice in the winter - everyone wanted a job that came with a warm bed and at least one square meal. Eilyn couldn’t work the docks in this cold. He was skinny even for an elf, and he’d freeze. “No orcs,” he tried to insist, but it came out a plea.
Rust stopped, shifted, lifted a hand dangerously. Eilyn flinch back, well acquainted with his version of discipline. “You’ll fuck who I tell you to fuck, or go sell your skinny ass on the street. Get back to work.”
Battle lost, Eilyn did his best to avoid the orcs’ tables, but they were thirsty and they were paying. A few leered and catcalled him, and he kept his head down, tugging at the disarrayed locks of his hair to better conceal his pointed ears. He dodged blunt fingers and grasping hands and ignored their commentary. Surprisingly, none of them chose to pursue the issue, and he offered a quiet thanks to the Goddess who looked after whores like him. Their aggression had limits, it seemed, and aside from a few playful smacks to his ass, nobody manhandled him. But one half-orc, his skin the gray-green of a mossy stone, caught Eliyn’s eye as he moved around the table. His dark gaze was steady, and Eilyn cringed, skin prickling between his shoulder blades. He could feel the heat of his eyes on him, even when he returned to the bar for another tray.
When he came back loaded down with roasted chickens, bread, and roasted vegetables, a feast that made his sunken stomach whine, a full-blood with skin the green of fresh sage leaves caught his wrist. His hand was big enough to encircle Eilyn’s bones twice. “How much, little fairy?” he rumbled, porcine maw spread in a leering grin.
Eilyn twisted his wrist away and hustled out of reach. The orc muttered a curse in his guttural tongue, but he didn’t pursue it, and went back to his meal. Eilyn thanked the goddess for small favors. The half-orc smiled, eyes following Eilyn around the table. He had underbite fangs, not full tusks, and his nose was more human than porcine, favoring his human parent. Probably the mother, knowing how orcs treated their conquests. He was almost handsome in a brutish way and he was the quietest at the table, drinking his ale and just… watching Eilyn. Not leering, more considering, like he was taking his measure. Like he was sizing him up.
Fear burned in Eilyn’s belly. He knew that look. He fought back tears as he moved among the tables, shifting his hips and flashing a desperate, too-bright smile at the other patrons. He was praying another customer would buy his services first, praying he’d be upstairs letting some fat trader suck on his ears before one of the orcs could go to the owner and request his services. But in this, the goddess did not smile upon him.
He was fetching a meal tray from the kitchen when Rust appeared in the doorway and grabbed his upper arm. He nearly toppled the tray, and Eilyn went up on his toes, swallowing a cry of outrage.
“You’ve got a customer,” Rust sneered. “Upstairs. Room three. And if you don’t show, I’ll take his refund out of your hide.”
Eilyn’s stomach sank into his knees.
Shaking, he delivered the tray and then climbed the stairs to the upper rooms. His legs and his guts felt heavy, dragging him down, and the pounding of his blood made the stairwell waver and narrow before his eyes. This job was wretched most of the time, but it was usually bearable. Customers were rude, entitled, sometimes violent, almost always a little disgusting, but they were simple. Eilyn didn’t know how he would endure this. There was no escape from an orc - their smell, their grunting, their roughness and their stamina flooded the senses, cut off retreat. He’d have to try to send his mind away, to just endure it, but he knew it would not be quick. They liked to get their money’s worth. Rust loved it - because orcs took so long, and had so much seed to spill in any warm hole that would take them, he charged them more. Because almost no whore really wanted orcs as customers, he could haggle up the price and count his gold while his workers suffered. They would obey or be thrown out to starve and freeze. Rust’s sense of human pity had been fully replaced with greed.
Eilyn reached the top of the stairs. He passed two rooms, and heard grunting and feminine cries from one of them - Saleen, who was past her prime and motherly, and a favorite of some of the older regulars. The door to the third room seemed to loom before him, large and distorted, and he pushed it open with a shaking hand.
The half-orc waited for him inside, back turned to the door. He’d taken off his jerkin, but he hadn’t stripped any further, exposing a muscled and scarred physique. The scars were livid, painful-looking… orcs took pride in their war wounds, and often irritated them during healing or rubbed dye into them to make them stand out. This one seemed to favor blue woad, and even Eilyn had to admit it was the right compliment to the shade of his skin. He was standing next to a washbasin on the small bedside table where an oil lamp burned, and rubbing himself down with a wet cloth. This small courtesy surprised Eilyn… washed up and fresh, the orc would still smell, but not as badly. There was another scent in the room, and he realized the half-orc had brought his own soap. It was a cream-yellow bar full of bits of green, packed with common herbs to repel lice and fleas and and prevent skin afflictions. It’s scent would further stifle the musk, making this experience less unpleasant. Eilyn wondered if the brute kept it specifically so he wouldn’t be so repulsive to whores.
He turned when Eilyn shut the door and leaned against it, shaking. Eilyn glared, doing his best not to show the fear and revulsion boiling in his belly. The half-orc gave him a knowing smile, surprisingly soft, like he saw it anyway and found it amusing. Or worse: cute.
“Take off your clothes,” he said with surprising gentleness. “Lie on your back.” His voice was smoother than the average orc’s, and less guttural, but not as even as a full human’s. His protruding canines softened some of his consonants, but at least he didn’t spit.
Eilyn’s fingers shook as he struggled with the buttons on his clothing. They were large and simple, made for easy release so his customers could get at his flesh faster, but in that moment he wished they would simply refuse to come undone. He didn’t want to be naked for this brute. He didn’t want that greenish skin pressed against his, forcing its stink into his pores. He didn’t want the smear of yellowish fluid from an uncut head, or the thick, slimy drip of semen, and he prayed the half-orc wouldn’t want his mouth. If he had to swallow that foul seed, he would vomit.
At least the orc wasn’t trying to make it romantic. Eilyn’s clothes fell and the cool air made his skin rise in goosebumps. He climbed into the bed, feeling the half-orc’s eyes on him like slime sliding over his skin. His lungs spasmed with the need to sob. He spread his legs, and begged the whore goddess that all he would want to do was mount and rut so Eilyn could hide in a dream of a deep wood, green with summer, while he was used.
“Put your hands on the headboard.” Despite the softness of his tone, this was an order. Eilyn obeyed, gripping the rough wood. Huge, thick hands wrapped around his wrists, holding them tight. Then a length of rope rasped over the sheets and wound around his wrists, and Eilyn cried out, struggling, yanking at his hands, overcome by panic. He had no leverage; the half-orc was too strong. His other hand settled on Eilyn’s chest, easily covering him with the spread of his fingers, holding him down against the thin, stuffed mattress as he strained and whimpered. “Shhh,” he soothed. “Easy, little one. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to take my time with you,” he said, as if that wasn’t just as bad, as if that wasn’t worse. His thumb rubbed briefly over Eilyn’s lower lip, and Eilyn’s breath caught on a sob. Despite his struggles, the half-orc tied him down to the headboard with quick, efficient movements. Eilyn wondered how many others he’d trussed like this. His knots were are firm, and they didn’t slide. Eilyn was caught, but he wouldn’t lose feeling in his fingers… small mercies.
“Shhh,” he whispered again, thumb brushing wetness from Eilyn’s cheek. Eilyn turned away from his touch, but there was nowhere to go. Those fingers traced the fine bones of his face, the pointed line of his jaw, the fullness of his lips. He almost bit, but before he could resolve to it, they moved on, tugging and kneading at his ear. “Relax,” the half-orc rumbled as he fondled him. “You’re fine. I know you’re scared. I won’t hurt you.”
“I hate you!” Eilyn blurted out, gone mad for a moment, not even caring what response it might provoke. Rust wouldn’t care if the half-orc beat him a little. He’d just charge a little extra, since he’d be less pretty for a few nights. But the half-orc didn’t look angry. He just smiled and knelt between Eilyn’s legs. His huge hands caught Eilyn’s ankles before he could coordinate enough to kick at him. Eilyn yanked at the ties, panicking a little, sobbing in humiliation and rage. “Get off me!”
“Shhh.” He bent down, lifting Eilyn’s legs over his powerful shoulders. He nuzzled Eilyn’s thigh, and his tusks caught on his skin, but the kiss was soft. It made him shiver despite himself. “Relax. I just want to taste you.” His voice was nearly a purr. His strong hands slid over Eilyn’s thighs, squeezing, keeping them snug around his head. He nibbled, sucked, and kissed the vulnerable skin, taking his time, exploring Eilyn’s body like a connoisseur with a fine wine. The firm, wet slide of his tongue gave way to teasing nibbles, blunt teeth pressing against his skin when he found a pulse point to suck, creating a delicious, throbbing bruise. Eilyn whimpered, squirming - this was not what he expected, this deliberate and slow devouring, and his body betrayed him, responding with a flush of heat and a clenching ache inside.
The half-orc smiled when he saw that, and Eilyn closed his eyes, hiding from his dark gaze. Strong hands slid under his ass and squeezed, kneading the lean muscle there, pulling Eilyn’s cheeks apart. Blunt fingers probed him, exploring, and his stomach turned as he realized he was aroused by this; he was throbbing and shivering and starting to crave it. His thighs had fallen further apart as a thick finger firmly circled his entrance, rubbing back and forth so the pucker opened with each pass, silently begging for that touch. Goddess, help me….
“That’s good,” his captor rumbled, dark eyes dancing. “Let’s see how hard you can cum.” Those words hit Eilyn like stones, and settled just as heavily in his belly. The half-orc’s mouth slid down Eilyn’s thigh and found his ball sack, drawn up tight with fear and anticipation, and Eilyn cried out in shock and pleasure as the wrinkled skin was drawn between his lips. Gods, this was wrong… that mishappen mouth, that rough, slick tongue, the blunt prod of his underbite as he started to lick and suck on Eilyn’s tender sack. His tongue probed into the crease of Eilyn’s thighs, under and around his testicles and over his sensitive taint. Eilyn writhed in his arms, flexing, crying out in ecstasy and denial, gritting his teeth and keening with each breath. His captor slicked his fingers in his mouth and began to work one into Eilyn’s ass, slow and firm, teasing his anus with a steady touch while he sucked hard at Eilyn’s balls. He easily took the whole sack into his mouth and applied pressure until the root throbbed with ache. His tongue rolled the soft spheres against the insides of his teeth, threatening him with their stinging drag, and Eilyn was coming apart, he was shattering, he was orgasming, and shame crashed over him along with the pleasure, sickness, despair - he was an elf, this was an orc, disgusting and coarse and barbaric, and Eilyn was wracked with pleasure in his arms, climaxing like the whore he was, bucking into that crude mouth and wailing like a cat in heat. His fingers in Eilyn’s ass were blunt, thick, illicit, and drove him out of his mind, massaging the flesh inside him that quivered and clenched, almost-but-not-quite giving him what he truly needed… something to grind on, something to bruise him inside and satisfy the desperate craving in his belly.
His orgasm resolved into an aching throb, and Eilyn slumped in a disheveled heap. Tears fell, trailing down toward his ears as he stared blankly at the rough ceiling boards, unable to see them through the burn of humiliation. Those fingers still moved inside him, stroking the spot that ached and throbbed the most, and he moaned helplessly. Semen trickled down his belly, tickling him, dripping down his sides toward the coarse blanket.
The half-orc didn’t let it get there. He shrugged Eilyn’s thighs off his shoulders and wrapped them around his waist, bending down and capturing those thin, pale fluid-trails with his tongue. He nibbled and sucked Eilyn’s skin, dragging his teeth lightly over the slight protrusion of his ribs, sucking on the divot of his navel. Eilyn shuddered as he was devoured, breath catching on hitched sobs. It felt good and it felt terrible. It was a gloating act to clean him like this, to map his body with his tongue and teeth, to lap up the cum he’d forced Eilyn to spill. Soon his hand joined in, sliding up Eilyn’s body, rough palm caressing his chest. Eilyn lay limp, crying softly, not fighting the despair or the restraints around his wrists anymore.
He moaned when the half-orc found a nipple, and his hand found the other. His cock, which hadn’t fully softened, began to ache and swell again as his captor licked and sucked those nubs. He was slow, deliberate, but rough, pinching and tugging the flesh, forcing Eilyn’s nipples to harden under his touch. Their swelling pleased him, and he slid his hand under Eilyn’s back, lifting him slightly even as the fingers of his other hand pushed deeper, scissoring inside him, stretching him with burning pleasure and circling his hidden pleasure center. Impaled, Eilyn could do nothing but writhe and mewl in protest as the half-orc sucked one nipple until it bruised, then the other, tugging them with his teeth, flicking them with his tongue. His hips twitched, and he gave a low moan of despair - he’d cum again from this treatment if the brute didn’t relent, rutting onto his fingers like an ovulating bitch dog.
“Stop,” he begged, arching when those fingers curled and pressed hard against his prostate. “Gods, stop, please…”
“Does it feel good?” his captor purred, leaning up and fastening his mouth on Eilyn’s throat. Eilyn shuddered, rocking his hips up in rhythm with the movement of those rough fingers, breath coming faster as his cock swelled to full hardness. The nuzzle of the half-orc’s forehead pushed his jaw back, and he had no choice but to surrender his throat, letting those tusks dig into his pulse point and that tongue massage the tender skin. “Answer me, Eilyn,” he whispered, nipping his earlobe. Eilyn gasped, rage burning like a brand in his chest… damn Rust. This was bad enough when it was anonymous. To have his name whispered into his ear while he drowned in the scent of that musk mixed with lye and herbs, while thick orc fingers raped his ass and blunt orc tusks bruised his throat, was unbearable.
“Don’t call me that,” he choked, and the half-orc gave a soft chuckle.
“Isn’t it your name? What should I call you?”
Eilyn had no answer to that, and could only sob in rage while the half-orc nibbled and sucked the soft spot under his jaw, moving slowly upward to his ear, molesting the skin behind it. The curse of being an elf was that his ears weren’t particularly erogenous to him, but they were to everyone else - everyone wanted to pull on them, bite them, suck them, and abuse them. His ears were a fetish, and usually he didn’t care. But this half-orc treated them differently, nibbling all around them, teasing him to distraction with anticipation. Finally a tongue flicked into the canal, and he cried out, because that actually did feel good and his cock was starting to leak precum against his spit-slicked belly. His earlobe was sucked, tugged, hand sliding up behind him to cradle and massage his head, and he found himself thrusting upward like he WANTED to cum, like he NEEDED it, pushing his cock against his captor’s weight and clenching around his fingers.
“Mmm, already?” He still sounded amused, damn him. The half-orc nipped his throat. And then his fingers stopped, relaxing inside Eilyn, robbing him of the pressure that was driving him higher. “Eager little fairy. You pointy-ears are so fun to play with… you act all miffed and offended and then you beg to cum over and over and over….”
Eilyn shuddered, struggling against his bonds, hips squirming in the half-orc’s lap. “J-just… just shut up and do it,” he sobbed, hating himself with every breath.
“First, tell me it feels good,” his captor said, breath hot on his throat, fingers tangling tight in his hair and keeping his head forced back. “First, tell me you want it.”
Eilyn gave a cry of outrage. But then those fingers moved, twisting just a little, sending a flicker of dark heat through him, and he bucked up. “FUCK! Fuck you,” he cried through his teeth. “Fuck you, j-just…”
“Tell me it feels good,” he repeated firmly, dragging his teeth over Eilyn’s throat. “Say it, beautiful.”
“I h-hate you,” Eilyn panted. “You’re disgustinggggg…” His words trailed into a groan when the half-orc’s fingers flicked his prostate, then spread before he could clench on the pressure.
“I can do this all night,” he murmured, flicking his tongue in Eilyn’s ear again. “I would love to do this all night. Feel you writhe on me, drink in those cute little whimpers… I’ll add another finger, and then another, slick up my whole hand and push it up inside you, grope you deeper than you’ve ever been touched… I could wear you like a puppet, watch that tight little fairy ass stretch wide around my arm…”
“N-NO!” Eilyn gasped, hips lurching as the half-orc tagged his prostate again, rubbing it firmly for just a couple of passes, getting him to the edge of orgasm, then stopping and letting the pleasure die while Eilyn struggled for breath. “Damn you, please,” he forced through his teeth, and then sank back, unable to believe he’d let that happen, that he’d begged the foul brute even once.
“Please’ is good,” his captor murmured. “Please’ is nice. But I want to hear the words. Say them, Eilyn.” He moved back down and nipped one of Eilyn’s swollen nipples. “Say them, or I’ll take you over my knee and soften up that skinny little ass. Would you like that?” Eilyn keened, barely able to process those words, drowning in aching heat and writhing on his fingers. “Do you need a good spanking before I mount you?”
Eilyn cried out in outrage, but he was helpless in the half-orc’s hands. He panted through his teeth, trying to ride it out, trying not to writhe or respond. But the slow, deliberate movement of his fingers wouldn’t let him escape. He teased Eilyn’s prostate with excruciating skill, circling back and away, giving him too much stimulation to relax and not enough to climax or grow numb. He stretched Eilyn’s anus, teasing him with that stinging burn, massaging those fingers along his other walls like he was claiming him, marking him inside. Eilyn tried to kick, and earned another of those damned chuckles. His captor could snap him like a twig, and no amount of resistance would get him free of this torment.
Then his head was forcibly turned, and the half-orc’s mouth came down on his. He tried to clamp his lips shut but that hot, thick tongue thrust between them. He bit, but it squirmed away, leaving the taste of blood in his mouth, and the half-orc laughed. “Say it,” he ordered, and bit Eilyn’s lower lip, sucking on it hard, until his tusks dug into the soft skin. “Say it feels good. Say you want it.”
Eilyn clamped his eyes and mouth shut, lips pinched as tight as possible.
The half-orc kissed his mouth softly. “All right.” He backed off, and pulled his fingers out, and Eilyn couldn’t help groaning at the loss. He ached all over, and his cock throbbed between his thighs, betraying him with its need.
Strong hands on his hips turned him over, and he had no will to resist. He settled Eilyn carefully, one thick hand sliding into his hair, massaging the nape of his neck and rubbing his thumb behind Eilyn’s ear. The bed creaked as he shifted, dragging Eilyn’s hips into his lap and arranging him over his thick thighs. Eilyn’s cock prodded his leather pants and the hard muscle beneath, and for the first time he felt the answering hardness concealed under his breeches, an unyielding ridge that his body wanted desperately to grind against.
“My name is Jakken,” he said, still rubbing Eilyn’s head soothingly. “When you’ve had enough spanking, I want you to say, “Please, Jakken, I want your cock.” I won’t stop until you say it.”
Eilyn shivered in mixed arousal and horror. That massaging touch was lulling, and he almost sank into it, dragged into submission by the ache in his core. Then a heavy, unyielding hand smacked down against his ass, bruising him, sending a throb of pain up his spine, and he gave an undignified squawk, eyes flying wide.
The half-orc reached over him and found the oil on the table, next to the washbasin. He uncorked it and slicked his fingers, pressing them into Eilyn’s ass again. The new, slick slide made Eilyn moan, and he couldn’t help lifting his hips, shuddering as he silently pleaded for more. The hand that had been rubbing his head, that delicious spot behind his ear, vanished and his whine turned to an irritated growl… until it came down like a paddle on his ass and made him jump and squeal, gasping, body throbbing with the movement of fingers in his ass and the bruises blossoming on his cheeks. “J… Jakken,” he groaned, head spinning, and that hand came down again, pushing a scream out of him.
“That’s good,” Jakken murmured, rubbing the bruised spot he’d just struck. “I like hearing you use my name, Eilyn. Are you ready to tell me what I want to hear?”
Somehow, Eilyn had lost himself in a reality where Jakken was in charge and all this made sense. It seemed perfectly reasonable for him to shake his head, like the problem was that he wasn’t ready, not that he was helpless in the hands of a sadistic monster. Jakken spanked him again, and he mewled, fresh tears welling. Those probing fingers found his prostate, and he bucked, drooling into the covers, toes curling in helpless pleasure.
An third oil-slicked finger pressed at his entrance, and he gave a long, shuddering moan. The cock would be thicker, doubtless… but this stretch felt excessive, felt inhumane. His throat closed as Jakken mercilessly pushed the third finger into him alongside the other two, making stirring motions with his hand that drove Eilyn’s brain right out of his head.
Jakken began to spank him hard and steady, kneading his ass between strikes, fingers working slowly in and out of him while his thumb rubbed along his taint. Eilyn lost himself. Reason fled, awareness went hazy, and he was distantly aware that he was moaning low and rough like a hungry animal and humping Jakken’s lap greedily. He thrust back onto his fingers, arched for his hand, cried and sobbed and cursed, soaking the blanket with tears, drool, and snot. Jakken was careful not to let him reach orgasm, but he had found something that felt even higher, a place where his entire body seemed to vibrate at a higher frequency, like he was caught in a bolt of lightning-ecstasy that burned relentlessly under his skin. Jakken’s fingers fucked him slow, then fast and hard, bruising him, then slow again just when he’d started to rock into the rhythm. He spanked Eilyn’s ass and thighs, covering his skin with the marks of his hand, sometimes dragging his nails lightly over the raw, reddened skin and making Eilyn scream. The blows shook his entire body, drove the breath out of him, and soon even his sobs were captured by the rhythm, and he breathed in time with the descent of Jakken’s hand.
He was so lost when it ended that he couldn’t react. Jakken pulled his oiled fingers free, tossed Eilyn onto his back, straddled him and pinned him with his weight, and kissed him hard. And Eilyn’s mouth opened, falling slack, letting the brutish male claim his mouth. Taste flushed hot against his senses - meat and ale, spices, the lingering bitterness of Eilyn’s own cum, and a thick tongue curling with his, forcing him to submit. Iron fingers framed his jaw, keeping him from biting, but he didn’t even try. He moaned, letting his tongue lap clumsily against Jakken’s, letting Jakken’s tongue push into the back of his throat and tickle the hanging flesh there. It filled Eilyn’s mouth, and he relaxed with a moan, swallowing when the tip probed deep and relaxing into the bruising pain of his grip.
“That’s more like it,” Jakken whispered when he broke the kiss, nipping his lower lip. “Ready now?”
He took a shivering breath. “P..please,” he whispered hoarsely. “I…”
“Mm,” Jakken murmured, finding a corner of the blanket to wipe Eilyn’s face. “Not quite? Maybe you need my hand up your ass…”
Eilyn shuddered and closed his eyes. “I want your cock,” he choked.
Jakken grinned. His eyes danced with wicked playfulness. “That’s good, Eilyn. That’s really good. I’m gonna let you prove it to me.” He kissed him again, without holding his jaw open this time, and Eilyn let him. The taste wasn’t too bad. It didn’t turn his stomach.
Jakken sat up and swung a leg over his chest. He thankfully supported his own weight, because Eilyn would have suffocated if he hadn’t, and he tugged at the lacings of his breeches. The bulge there was thick and long, straining the seam, and Eilyn shuddered, but that was all he could manage in response. Leather parted, and Jakken dug inside, tugging out a cock as thick around as Eilyn’s wrist and almost as long as his forearm. It was darker than the rest of him, and the tip was shiny with precum. Thick veins wrapped around the bulging shaft, and the head was fat and blunt. The heavy scent of musk rolled over him, but at least it smelled clean, only hints of sweat and a little of that soap. The foreskin gleamed, trapping yellowish fluid beneath it, and Jakken rubbed it up and down over the head.
“Have you been with an orc before?” he asked.
Eilyn swallowed and looked away. Jakken promptly gripped his chin and forced him back. The blunt head of his cock pushed rudely against his lips, and he parted them, grunting when Jakken pushed against his mouth. The head forced his teeth apart, and he was being held still, fighting to get a breath around the massive penis that was suddenly invading him. Jakken didn’t warn him not to bite, and Eilyn barely even considered it. He just held him, pushing into him, forcing him to take his thick, heavy cock deeper and deeper until his throat spasmed around the tip.
“Swallow me, little fairy,” Jakken growled. “Make me nice and slick so I can rut your tight little ass.”
Tears spilled from Eilyn’s eyes, both from self-hatred and from having his throat filled and bruised so rudely. Jakken held his head up and pushed into him slowly, and it wasn’t more than he could handle, but it was so much. He choked on it, coughed and gagged, struggling a little as his eyes watered and he fought for sips of air. The half-orc’s cum had a sour, bitter taste. And his damned traitorous cock bobbed like a flag in the wind, so hard it ached, leaking more of his own thin, pale precum until it dripped ticklishly down his shaft. He pulled at the ropes, wrists burning and chafed, ass rubbing against the coarse blanket and stinging abominably. It made him gasp through his nose while Jakken thrust into his throat, cock making wet, sucking sounds that reverberated through his distended jaw. His cock dipped deeper each time, until Eilyn’s eyes started to roll back, white sparks and black spots overtaking his vision.
Jakken shuddered and dragged his cock back. He left the tip in Eilyn’s mouth, and Eilyn coughed and swallowed the thick mucous pulled up by his thrusting. He licked the tip, tongue probing clumsily under the foreskin, eyes glazed as he obediently fellated his captor.
“That’s so good,” Jakken whispered, sliding his hand into Eilyn’s hair. “Fuck, you’re so sweet. I want to cum in your mouth. Show me you want to drink my cum, baby. Open your mouth nice and wide for me.” He rubbed the head of his cock on Eilyn’s lips and tongue until Eilyn let his head sag back, mouth hanging open, jaw ringing with the strain. Jakken wrapped his hand around the root of his cock and began to pump it, groaning as he thrust the tip back into Eilyn’s throat. “Ohhhh, yes,” he growled, pounding the tip into Eilyn’s throat, bruising him but not penetrating as deep. Eilyn moaned helplessly, grateful for the air he was getting, slurping messily around the thrusting cock and shuddering in revulsion and lust.
Jakken’s breath went short and choppy, grunting through his teeth as he started to orgasm. He pumped his cock hard and rough, pulling Eilyn’s head up so he could fuck the back of his throat, and Eilyn did his best to swallow through tears and choked breaths. “That’s it…” Jakken’s body arched, strong hips and belly etched in flickering light for Eilyn’s blurred vision. “Swallow it!” he snarled, hoarse, fingers knotted tight in Eilyn’s hair, and came, thick, hot spurts of sour semen splattering the inside of his mouth, coating and filling his throat. It came too fast to gulp down, filling the space under his tongue, seeping between his teeth and his cheeks, then finally spurting up his nose when he struggled to breathe. Eilyn drowned in it, fighting to swallow it fast enough, writhing and kicking as it dripped from his nose and his mouth and gurgled in his throat. Jakken groaned long and low and shifted upward, cupping his hands under Eilyn’s mouth and tipping his head back. “Drink, come on, that’s it,” he panted as he gave slow, rolling thrusts onto Eilyn’s tongue. And Eilyn struggled to obey, sucking that bitter, slimy fluid down, slurping around that veined cock, tongue thrusting under Jakken’s foreskin as he did his best to drink every drop.
His stomach was roiling by the time Jakken finally finished, burning, full of vinegar and acid. Jakken rubbed his cock slowly over Eilyn’s lips, and he shuddered as he sucked and licked him clean, coughing and whimpering between breaths. When Jakken was satisfied, he got off Eilyn, and Eilyn hacked, pushing up and swallowing thick globs of mixed mucous and semen. They slid slowly into his rebelling stomach, and tried to come back up while Jakken took the corner of the blanket and cleaned Eilyn’s face.
Then, showing mercy Eilyn didn’t expect, he gave him a sip of clean well water from a tin cup. Eilyn gulped it down gratefully, still coughing, and blinked up at him, eyes glazed, body shaking with a fine tremor.
“I want to untie you and hold you in my lap,” Jakken told him, pressing soft kisses marred by the hardness of his tusks across Eilyn’s face. “I want to kiss you while you ride my cock. Are you going to be good?”
Eilyn shuddered, nodded. He’d be good. Jakken clearly meant to get his money’s worth out of him. Jakken kissed his mouth softly, and reached up to unfasten the knots he’d tied so deftly. When they came loose, he held and rubbed Eilyn’s hands, massaging the palms until he could move his fingers again. He kissed Eilyn over and over, and Eilyn let him - let him explore the ravaged corners of his mouth, let him taste his own semen on Eilyn’s tongue, let him confirm how thoroughly he’d conquered him.
Jakken pulled him up into his arms. Eilyn could not have moved on his own if the tavern had been burning down. He’d left his pants on the floor when he’d gotten Eilyn water, and he was naked, ugly and gorgeous, all hard muscle and ragged scars and a thick trail of dark hair leading down his belly, surrounding his rigid cock. He sat up against the headboard and settled Eilyn in his lap, reaching for the oil, slicking his cock despite the coating of mucous that still clung to it. He coaxed Eilyn’s arms around his neck and slid his hands under his ass, lifting and spreading him, fingers slipping between his cheeks to probe his still-loosened anus. He guided his cock to Eilyn’s hole, gripping his raw, bruised cheeks, and slowly began to let him down.
He was thicker than three of his fingers. He was thicker than Eilyn’s wrist. He split Eilyn open, and Eilyn cried out pitifully into his shoulder, shuddering, sobbing as Jakken began to work his body down slowly on his well-slicked cock. It didn’t burn much, thanks to all the lubrication, but his body cramped violently around the intrusion once it got deeper than most human customers ever managed to fuck him. He convulsed, moaning, sobbing into Jakken’s shoulder as he was forced to take that hot, heavy impalement inch by inch. Sometimes he had to squirm, and Jakken let him, writhing until the angle improved and his body shifted to accommodate that unyielding length. Jakken’s cock nudged up against the bend of his intestine and he gave an open-mouthed moan of utter hopelessness while the half-orc gently forced him to roll his hips, holding him at an arch, coaxing and maneuvering him until it slid past and lodged painfully deep in his guts.
“Gods,” he sobbed, shaking violently against that broad chest. “S-s-stop. I c-can’t….”
“Shhh.” Jakken let him stay there for a few minutes, body convulsing around his cock at all depths, alternately trying to clench, push, or relax to ease the agony. “Shhhh.” He rubbed his back in firm, slow strokes, kneading the spasming muscles. “You’re all right, Eilyn. Just breathe.”
“I can’t,” he cried, spilling tears onto his shoulder. “I can’t, I can’t ta-ake it…”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured, rubbing his back and his neck, holding him tight, letting his body flutter and adjust around his cock. “Just breathe.” Eilyn dissolved in his arms, crying like a child, clinging to those muscled shoulders. Jakken listened to his breathing and murmured soothing nonsense to him and when he started to take deeper, fuller breaths, he rocked up into him and pushed that air, and a sharp keen, right out of him.
“I can’t!” he sobbed desperately, taking whooping breaths as Jakken began to slowly, carefully thrust up into him. “I can’t, I can’t, oh gods, please, PLEASE, Ja-a-akke-e-en…” The half-orc’s name was a wail. Everything hurt. His cock had softened halfway, but the terrible penetration kept him from losing it completely, filling his head with heat and static. “No-oo-o-OHHH!”
Jakken had pulled back enough to slip past the bend and then thrust back in, and the sensation made Eilyn’s sight go black. His mouth hung open, and his protests dissolved into senseless, animal moans as Jakken began to fuck his body, moving impossibly deep inside him, bouncing him in slow, controlled thrusts on his cock. It hurt, gods it hurt, but it was so arresting, the most impossible sensation, dirty and twisted and thrilling. The veins on his cock dragged at his anus with each thrust, and clenching on it hurt but he couldn’t stop clenching, couldn’t stop gasping and writhing and trying to steal pleasure from the pain. Jakken’s hands squeezed his sore ass, kneading the bruises, and he moaned like a bitch in heat, drooling on his shoulder a little and shuddering when his cock rubbed teasingly against Jakken’s belly.
Then Jakken slid a hand between them and gripped his cock, leaning Eilyn back just enough so he could claim his mouth in a hot, hungry kiss.
Eilyn orgasmed like an earthquake, splintering apart, shattering along deep and molten fault lines. It hurt as much as, or more than, it pleased, and the sounds he made weren’t even human, muffled by Jakken’s mouth devouring his. That hand was rough with callouses, strong, milking his shaft, pulling his semen up from his balls in tight, commanding pumps, until he spilled messily all over Jakken’s fingers and bucked against him in uncontrollable convulsions. Jakken rubbed his thumb firmly over the little knot of nerves below the head, rubbed up across the tip and over the slit, handling him like he owned him. At the peak of it, Eilyn blacked out and sagged in his arms - it was too much, the ache and the sharpness, the pain, the struggle of his body to climax when every shudder hurt.
When he came to, he was still in pain. Jakken had pulled him upward and draped him over his shoulder. He’d spread one of Eilyn’s legs out to open him wide, and he was fucking him with slow, deep rolls of his hips, breath stuttering in those powerful lungs, using Eilyn like a warm, obedient toy. Eilyn shuddered, announcing his return to awareness with a whimper, and Jakken began to bite along his ribs and back, gentle bites, love bites, as he slid Eilyn’s ravaged body up and down his rigid shaft.
He came soon after, shallowly, with maybe half his cock buried in Eilyn. He thrust hard and fast for a few moments, and Eilyn sobbed into his shoulder, clinging to the headboard while that cock bruised his inner walls. He felt it when Jakken came in him - humans spilled barely a couple of teaspoons, and never with enough force that he really felt it, but an orc could spill as much as half a cup of semen in one orgasm, and with enough force to pelt his insides with the spray. It dripped down, slicking their movement even further, and Eilyn cried softly as Jakken groaned and slowed his movement, settling into languid satisfaction. He let Eilyn slide down too, let him take his full cock inside him again, squishing with the liberal coating of his semen. Parts of him had gone numb now, and it didn’t hurt quite as much, easier to find a position that was almost comfortable to rest against Jakken’s chest with several pounds of still-hard meat buried in his lower intestine.
He curled up as much as he could. Jakken rubbed his back and dragged his fingers through his hair.
“You feel so good,” he murmured. “So sweet and tight around my cock.”
Eilyn’s tears stopped, finally, and he took as deep a breath as he could manage, letting it out in a stuttering sigh of exhaustion. “I can’t take anymore,” he whispered. “Please.”
“Just rest,” Jakken told him, nuzzling his ear, nibbling it. “We have all night for me to get my fill of your pretty little body.”
Eilyn hitched. “Y… you paid for the entire night?”
“Why not? I need somewhere to sleep. And sleeping with a soft-skinned little bed-warmer is so much more pleasant.” He sucked on the tip of Eilyn’s ear, nipping it playfully.
Eilyn had no energy for play. “I can’t,” he whispered, pleading. “Jakken, I CAN’T. Please, I hurt.”
“You’ll feel better in a bit,” Jakken told him. “And I’ll go easy. But I’m going to fill you a few more times before this night is over,” he promised, giving Eilyn’s sore ass a fond squeeze. “And I’ve got a nice little carved wood plug in my pack to make sure you keep all of it inside you until dawn.” His fingers rubbed soothing circles in his hair. “Do you need some water? Something to eat? You’re so skinny…”
Eilyn’s eyes closed. “Are you going to take it out of my pay?” he asked bitterly.
Jakken laughed. “No. Not at all. I’ll even order from downstairs if you want.” He kissed Eilyn’s neck. “As much as I loved feeding you my cum, your stomach needs something more substantial. I could hear it growling when I was playing with you.”
This time, Eilyn didn’t even mind the press of his tusks. He had no energy to be embarrassed about his poverty. “All right,” he acquiesced. “I’m hungry.” He was always hungry. That ‘one meal’ was usually broth with the scraped leavings of paying customers’ meals, and rarely filled him up. “But not right now. I need…” He sighed deeply, head on Jakken’s shoulder. Jakken’s scent surrounded him.
It didn’t repulse him at all.
Jakken gently coaxed his head up just enough to give him soft kisses. “Rest, beautiful,” he whispered. “Rest and cuddle. You feel just as good in my arms as on my cock.”
His arms were strong and warm, and Eilyn melted into them. The alarm of knowing Jakken wasn’t done making use of him was faint and distant. He had no say in the matter. Bought and paid for. The half-orc had skillfully reduced him to a dazed and obedient toy, and Eilyn couldn’t argue with his effortless command of his body.
He sank into sleep listening to the half-orc’s strong, steady heartbeat. There’d be plenty of time to hate himself in the morning.