Page 30 of Steel & Thunder
The first smack of what feels like leather against my ass isn’t a total surprise, but the way it hits the base of the plug is, and it forces a noise from my mouth I’m not sure I’ve made before. Somewhere halfway between a moan and a yell. I’m assuming it’s a paddle; the smack wasn’t that hard, barely even hurt. But that plug is sure making me pay attention. The second and third blows are delivered the same way, not a lot of bite but sure to hit me dead center on my ass and the plug.
When I expect to feel the smack of strike number four, I’m surprised again when a hand delves between my legs to grab ahold of my cock. I’m not fully hard, but still hard enough that I’m gonna have a difficult time explaining this away. The hand grips me firmly, a thumb running over the head of my dick and making me shudder, spreading the slick precum I didn’t realize I was leaking.
“Good,” is the only word spoken before the hand is pulled away, and I’m getting paddled again. The blows never quite increase in intensity, though the angle and areas hit do change. Still always seems to knock against the plug somehow, and when the hand returns to my now fully hard cock, I realize that’s by design. He wants me to enjoy this, even though it’s supposed to be punishment for trying to escape.
I do not understand orcs.
After another round with the paddle, I feel the hand once more, this time slick with lube. It holds me firmly, slowly pumping up and down my shaft, making me groan involuntarily. Another memory, this time from this morning, having my cock stroked in bed but rolling out before I finished. The sudden smack on my ass with his other hand makes me clench around the plug again. I rock forward slightly, which drags his hand down my dick. Gods, what is he doing to me?
I turn back to look at him as best I can. He’s not quite facing me, bent over with his body turned half to me and half to the shop behind us. That’s all I can see. After the next spank, the hand doesn’t leave my skin, instead sliding across it to the plug. He presses against it, pushing it in farther and pulling a low moan from my lips. All the while, his other hand continues to stroke me.
“You look good like this, puppy,” he tells me, his voice low and husky. “Tied up, helpless, and spread open. Plug in your hole, ass a nice bright pink. I have half a mind to take you right now.” The filthy words make my stomach flip, and I have to bite back a whimper.
He pauses on the spanking, content to toy with the plug instead. His fingers hook under the base and it is slowly dragged out of me. Before the widest part exits, the plug is released and slides back into place on its own. He pulls it out an inch or two once more, and this time I can feel him push it back in himself, forcing it deeper than it would go naturally. He repeats this, slowly fucking me open on the object.
Unable to help myself, I start rocking back into his hand. Small whimpers and moans fall from my open mouth, and my body heats with embarrassment when I realize that the other orcs are watching my reactions. But still, I don’t stop.
“They are watching you,” the orc holding my cock reads my mind. “They want you. The only reason they are not approaching is that they know you are mine.” He gives my dick a firm stroke for emphasis.
“I like that you are mine, pup,” he continues, adding a couple of spanks. “Mine to play with. Mine to show off. Mine to take apart.”
The plug is pulled from my hole again, this time completely. I only feel empty for a second, his fingers quickly pressing in to replace it and delve even deeper. They don’t stay there, as my Captain quickly pulls them back before settling into a steady rhythm as he fingerfucks me once more. He matches his strokes to the hand on my dick, and I am soon rocking back into his hands once again.
He keeps his pace steady for a minute, but I can feel things speeding up. The fingers inside me are pressing down as they move, each stroke passing over a spot that has me trying to hump down into his other hand. He has no trouble keeping his hold on me, the massive green fist encasing more than three-quarters of my length.
As things move faster, his tactics change. His hand stops stroking my full length, instead focusing his attention around the head. Similarly, his fingers no longer push into the knuckles, nor are they pulled out more than an inch or two. The pads of his fingertips continue to rub back and forth over that strange little button of pleasure, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. Fuck, I think I’m gonna—
“Cum for me, puppy.”
I explode at the order, the muttered curse on my lips drowned out by a moan. The hand around the top half of my cock continues to steadily stroke as I shoot my load all over the floor and bench. My hole clenches tightly around the fingers inside me, fingers that are still pressing and rubbing, forcing even more sounds from my mouth. I don’t even try to count as each rope of cum is shot, too exhausted to do anything more than slump against the bench when I finish.
As I come down from my orgasm, the hand around my cock leaves me, a sticky strand of cum landing against my thigh as it moves. The fingers still inside me are removed gently, and I feel my empty hole clenching around the cool air. Damn, I almost want the plug back in. There’s a hand on my back before I’m left on my own, senses slowly coming back to my body.
A towel is run along my thighs and ass, even carefully wiping the lubricant from my hole. The cuffs around my ankles are removed, then Ironstorm is at my side again, bending over to release my wrists. Once they are both free, I use my hands to push myself up and stand, legs shaky after our little performance.
“You took your punishment very well,” the orc tells me while wiping his hands with the same towel. “You may get redressed.”
I nod silently. I’m not exactly sure how that was a punishment, but I’m not going to disagree. I bend over to pull up my underwear and pants, pleased to see that they aren’t covered in the load I just shot. The majority of it seems to have landed on the bench, most of it already wiped up. I turn as I’m tightening my belt and meet the gazes of every orc in the shop, including two new ones who must have come in while... Oh god.
I try not to let the humiliation show on my face as I am handed my shirt. I pull it over my head maybe a little too quickly, staring at the floor while I fasten the buttons. Ironstorm steps over to the counter where Brull has moved, stuffing something into his pack. I notice the orc who walked in on me in the thong is also making some purchases. The other three are all badly pretending to browse the shelves while trying not to stare at me. Ignoring that, I move to join the group at the counter.
“You boys just made me a sale,” Brull tells us while taking the man’s money. Looking down, I can see that he has purchased...a paddle and plug. Oh boy.
“Happy to help, brother.” Ironstorm smiles a little cockily.
After exchanging a few words with Brull, the man takes hold of his purchases. Then after giving Ironstorm a nod and me an appreciative onceover, he exits the shop.
“I should have the boots ready next week.” Brull turns to us after pocketing the money. “And if there’s a problem with anything fitting, you let me know and I’ll fix it.”
“I am sure your craftsmanship is as stellar as always.” The two of them do their orc-wrist-handshake thing again. “Thank you for allowing me the use of your equipment.”
“Pleasure was all mine, Khaz,” Brull responds with a smirk. “Thanks for letting me meet him.” Then he turns to me. “It was nice to meet you, David. When I watched you get taken down in the arena yesterday, I wasn’t sure you’d take to all this so well. I can certainly understand all the interest in the captain’s new puppy.”
Great, so he was in the crowd of people who got to witness my very public humiliation yesterday. And what does he mean by interest? “I... Thanks. It was nice to meet you too.” What else do you say to that?
Ironstorm already has my leash at the ready, and he clips it on before throwing his pack over his shoulder. With a nod to me, he turns and together we leave the shop. The streets are even more packed than they were before, and I’m almost worried the leash might turn into a liability by the time we’re clear of the crowds and onto quieter roads.
“What did he mean by ‘interest’?” I can’t help it. The question has been nagging me since Brull said it.
