Page 26 of Steel & Thunder
“You going soft on me?” Brull cocks an eyebrow at his friend.
“It has been a long day, and considering it is only his second, he has performed admirably.” Same small smile. “He has earned a reprieve.”
My anger softens at his words, and I return to slipping on the first pair of underwear.
“Softy,” Brull ribs his friend.
I pull the briefs up over my thighs. These are...comfy. Whoever sewed them sewed them well. They hug my butt nicely, which isn’t something I usually think about when buying new underwear.
“Turn around.” I glare at Brull. “Please.” That’s better.
I do as requested. It’s not like I don’t know why they’re doing this. It feels like there’s a little more dignity in doing it on my own rather than having one of them force it. I eye the front door warily. No one else has come in yet, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The faster I am, the less chance I have of showing off to more than just these two. I hear some mumbles of approval, and once it feels like they’ve ogled me enough, I slip the pair off and quickly grab my other choice: the loincloth.
“Not bad, if not a little basic,” Brull notes as I adjust the ties at the waist. “Shows more skin than the last one.”
I turn around again, doing my best to ignore the commentary. As I turn, I look down at the underwear that still awaits me. All things Ironstorm picked out. Maybe I should have left my selections for the end. I slip the loincloth off and toss it with the briefs, turning to the unworn pile and taking a breath before grabbing whatever is on top. Let’s just get this over with. I pick up something black. There’s a pouch, but the rest just seems to be a series of straps.
“I, uh... I’m not sure how to put this on,” I admit somewhat sheepishly.
Both of the orcs make to stand, Ironstorm giving Brull a clear “what do you think you’re doing?” with his eyes, which has the larger orc laughing and backing off. He moves into my space, taking the garment from my hands and adjusting it.
“I believe this is called a jockstrap.” He holds it against my crotch so I can see which end is up. “Right, Brull?”
“Technically it’s a ‘jockey strap,’ something horse riders from your part of the world wear for protection,” Brull explains from his seat. “But that sounds stupid, and I figured out a much better use for ‘em.”
Ironstorm holds the underwear, showing me the waist and leg holes and letting me use his shoulder to balance myself as I step into it. He pulls the waistband up over my butt before bending over to do the same with the leg straps, settling them just under my ass. The fabric making up the straps has a nice stretch to it and my package fills the pouch in front rather nicely. That doesn’t change the fact that this thing seems to be missing a few crucial parts.
“There’s no ass on this.” My head is swiveled around to look at my own exposed butt.
“That is the idea,” Ironstorm comments as his eyes rake over my form.
“To not be underwear?” Why wear anything at all at this point?
“I wouldn’t say they’re not underwear,” Brull chimes in. “Your cock and balls are covered and held in place. Very useful for when you’re traveling, or fighting, or getting fucked.” I almost choke on my own spit at the last word. “Which coincidentally is also why there’s no back.”
I look down again at the “jockstrap” I’m wearing. Didn’t really consider that, but of course that’s why he wants to put me in these. He hasn’t…fucked me since yesterday, but it’s only a matter of time, right? Hopefully the next time he won’t throw me on the ground and tear my clothes off before... Fuck, I turn around, blushing at the memory and feeling my cock chub up. Not now...
Brull whistles at my on-display ass and Ironstorm returns to his seat, content that I now know what I’m doing. Thankfully the reality of the situation returns, and my cock stops trying to fill the damn pouch on this thing. I slip it off, swapping it for another in red with slightly thicker straps. It takes me a second, but I figure out how to get it on like that last one, and I quickly go through three more in green, blue, and white.
“The red looks good against his skin. That is definitely an ass made for a jock,” Brull comments to my owner. “Good choices.”
Ironstorm says nothing, though I can see him smiling at me, a combination of warmth and lust in his eyes. I remember that look when I was on my back in the arena, his weight on top of me, his skin against mine... Dammit, David. Stop it. Alright, what’s left? Still in the jockstrap, I grab the next item for my little fashion show and it’s...a dark green thong. I look down. They all are. What the hell?
“These are for women.” I can remember seeing a few server girls in taverns wearing these. And a few in other professions, if you catch my meaning.
“That pouch look like it’s for a woman?” Brull crosses his arms.
He’s got a point; it certainly looks like it’s meant to hold a dick. That’s not a thought I ever expected to have. But the rest of this is just... “I...”
“Need help with that one too?” Brull cracks wise, pulling another chuckle from Ironstorm and a glare from me.
I hate this. I can feel my face—and the rest of my body—getting hot as I slip the thong up my legs. I have to adjust myself in the pouch in front, my balls completely missing the target on their own. I can’t pull the back up without that thin strip of fabric slipping right up my ass, which feels fucking weird. I feel even more exposed than I did in the thing that intentionally has no ass by design. I stand, eyes staring at the floor in front of me while they get their looks in.
“Hold on.” Ironstorm stands and walks over, reaching down to adjust the waistband on my side where it’s been twisted. His hand still on my hip, he ushers me to turn around in front of him. “Though I can tell you do not, I think you look incredible in this.” He speaks softly as his hand slides over my hip to my ass, mumbling something to himself in Orcish.
I don’t respond, not sure I have anything positive to say about something I hate. The orc returns to his seat, and I grab my next piece of poison, this one purple. At least he skipped the lace. Though there is something pink… Just not thinking about that right now. Pulling off the green, I pull on the second thong, checking the waist straps on my own this time. The strap up my ass still feels weird.
“Very nice. Think I prefer the jocks, but the fact that you can tell he hates it makes it a little hotter.” I’m just getting heckled now.
