strag-rp-sin

[strag-rp-sin]

Marcel’s hands sank into his skin, gripping him hard and spreading him wide. He could feel his cheeks being parted, the edges of his rim stretching with each tug of his ass as his most sensitive area was exposed to the crisp morning air. All it took was a light breeze to make him clench up as hard as he could. Hanson whined. He couldn’t see what his boyfriend was doing and yet he knew he was staring at him, smirking as he always did. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that he could trust like this; no-one else he could ever let watch and touch him in this way.

A sudden kiss to his back made him jolt. It wasn’t Marcel’s lips that had surprised him but the fangs they concealed, each of their sharpened tips catching at his skin and leaving fresh marks in their wake. He so desperately wanted them to feel them again, not along his spine but between his legs, digging into him as he was eaten thoroughly. He could never bring himself to say so but with Marcel he didn’t need to - the lycan always seemed to know exactly what Hanson was thinking, whether Hanson wanted him to or not.

He could hear the leaves crunching under Marcel’s feet as he crouched down. The breath from each word of the lycan’s smirked remark tickled at his skin, punctuating every syllable as he leant in and pressed his tongue to him. Hanson gripped the tree harder and whined, his knees jerking where he stood. He wanted more. His boyfriend’s tongue was both everything and not enough all at once, making him squirm and shift, eager to be entered. Just one more push was all it would take. If anything, this was more frustrating than not being touched at all.

Marcel pulled back and Hanson whimpered. The anguished noise lasted barely a moment before the lycan plunged back in. He stretched his rim slowly, rolling around it before pushing his tongue deep into his insides. “F-Fuck!” Hanson moaned and his knees quivered. He hated how loud he was. The forest clearing they were in wasn’t far from their regular hiking trail and the mere thought of someone being able to hear him as they went past was mortifying. Perhaps even more embarrassing than that though was the way it also made his cock twitch between his legs and an excited smile spread across his lips.

“M-More,” he murmured, sliding further down the tree trunk and pushing his hips back, desperately trying to get Marcel deeper inside him. He never wanted him to stop.

strag-rp-sin‌:

Marcel’s thumbs hooked under the elasticated waistband of Hanson’s shorts. One sharp tug was all it took to yank them down and leave them to pool about his ankles, baring him to the forest clearing they’d stopped in. The red of the zombie’s cheeks spread, creeping along his skin until it painted the tips of his ears a vibrant pink. They were alone here – he knew that. And yet the ever-unlikely chance of being spotted in public played on his mind. The mere idea of it horrified him but there was something… Something about the gulp in his throat, the sweat on his brow, and the rush of fear that darted up his spine and sent him shivering, that had ignited the desire inside him.

All at once, Hanson’s undead nerves caught on fire. Even the lightest brushes of Marcel’s fingertips were enough to draw little gasp from his lips – the bites and gropes had attracted moans. They were only small ones for now, eager whines that escaped every time he felt teeth against his skin, but he knew the larger ones were soon to come. It was so embarrassing, how loud he always got. When he was alone he barely made a noise at all, suppressing everything no matter how close he was. How did his boyfriend manage it? His soft little kisses, his eager bites, the firm press of his fingers… Within minutes, he’d tore away the zombie’s shell, leaving him to grip at the trunk of the nearest tree and groan as his cock stirred between his legs.

Marcel laughed and Hanson felt it against his skin. His breath tickled, hitting him right between his spread cheeks and making him jolt where he stood. He was so close… so close to finally pressing his lips to the one place the zombie wanted them the most.

“Fuck…” he murmured, shuffling his feet apart and bending further. He was so eager he felt it didn’t need saying, and yet he still let the words pass his lips. “Y-Yeah… Yeah.”

His ass pushed out just in time to meet the lycan’s harsh smack. It sent a cry rippling from Hanson’s throat, his eyes widening in shock. Marcel must’ve hit him hard – he could feel the sting buzzing under the other’s fingers. It almost made him want to be hit again.

“Yeah,” he said once more, louder and with a sharper certainty this time. “P-Please.”

The sound reverberated through the cool air. The warm slap of his hand against Hanson’s ass. The sharp moan that followed. It made his whole body shudder, pounding with rising need. His hard cock throbbed inside his jogging pants, tenting visibly against the soft fabric. He needed this every bit as badly as Hanson – his relative stoicism, his quiet passion, was only out of focus on his boyfriend. 

Strong hands drew inward again, gripping Hanson anew and spreading him wide. He wanted him as open as he could be – exposed to the elements about them. It was the public nature of their tryst – the relative freedom of their impromptu passion – that made Marcel all the more eager to get started. 

…but not so eager that he didn’t tease his boyfriend. He let Hanson shake and shudder under his unwavering gaze. The muscles of his arms and legs. The arch of his back. His most intimate area, spread so eager to be filled. Marcel let himself feel the weight of his gaze – let him process that he was studying every inch of him. 

Utter denial of pleasure was not his endgame, however, and he soon found himself pressed down and against Hanson. He pressed a final kiss to the center of his back, sharpened fangs grazing against skin enough to leave a mark, before he bowed down lower. “Please…?” he repeated, with a wide smirk, “How could I say no to that…?”

He pressed his tongue flat to his entrance at first, pressing a soft circle about him in teasing motions. No insertion – no pressure that Hanson so clearly needed – but initial contact. Warm affection that eased him open. He squeezed him anew, leaning back momentarily then pushing back inward. 

Marcel curled his tongue and pushed it deeper. His hands raised and found new grips on Hanson’s waist. Pulling him back and meeting each eager push inside. Eager to hear every needy sound – every breathy pant and lustful groan – from his boyfriend. So eager to please him. To hear him breakdown and cry out for more and more. 

[strag-rp-sin]

31. Transformation

Hanson felt the lycan’s hands wrap around him and drag him backwards. Marcel was already hard. He could feel it pressing against him when he leant in to whisper into his ear.

“I want you,” he hissed, his breath heavy on Hanson’s neck. The full moon always got his boyfriend like this.

Hanson swallowed hard. “R-Right here?”

“Yes.” Marcel’s arms slid forwards and started to undo his jeans. “Don’t you want me too?”

The zombie’s cheeks started to redden. His undead body should have been a respite from the embarrassing torment of a flushed face and yet now, as he always did, he’d turned the shade of a tomato. All he could manage was an eager nod.

“Then say it.”

Hanson quivered in his arms. “I-I want you.”

“Where?”

“I want you i-in... inside me.”

“Where?” the lycan repeated, gripping his boyfriend’s hips hard and dragging them back, grinding up against him.

Hanson whimpered. His scrambling hands held desperately onto the edge of the counter as he squeezed his eyes shut and he forced out the words. “I-In my ass. I want you in my ass!”

With one sharp yank, he was rendered nude from the waist down. His jeans and boxers were left twisted about his knees, keeping them pinned close together as Marcel’s eager fingers quickly returned to his hips. Again he wrenched him backwards, making him bend straight over. Hanson’s ass was in his hands now, each of his cheeks prime to be spread far apart, his whole body quivering when his grip tensed around him and sank into his soft, round flesh. His hole was twitching even before Marcel’s fat cock pressed against it. With a firm push, he slid into him, stretching him wide.

Only when he was fully inside him did the lycan’s body start to change. Hanson could feel his cock shifting inside him, growing and altering, but it wasn’t until he saw the arm gripping onto the kitchen counter beside him that his eyes widened. At first, it was just his claws. Where once there had been nails there were now sharpened talons, thickening his darkened fingers as they became calloused and hairy. Fur was bursting from each of his follicles and coating his body. In no time at all, the limb of a canine had taken his arm’s place, scratching at the counter-top with steadily quickening movements. The rest of him followed in quick succession. Soft fur pressed up against Hanson’s ass, cushioning the blow when Marcel dragged himself back and then slammed straight into him once more. The zombie slowly turned his head. He didn’t know what he’d expected to see slobbering over his shoulder, fangs protruding from the curls of his snarling black lips, but somehow this wasn’t it. Where once his boyfriend had been there stood a wolf-man, large and hulking, its great hands pinning him down.

Every thrust was harder now. It went deeper, stretched him wider, and brought even louder moans hurtling past his lips. His knuckles whitened as he held on for dear life. It was almost more than he could take. He’d never wanted Marcel to destroy him quite so desperately. The lycan must’ve been able to sense it too - he shifted his position, hooking his legs around Hanson’s and sinking so far into him that his eyes bulged wide. It hurt. The zombie rarely ever got to say that. It hurt and he wanted more.

Over and over Marcel fucked him, pounding him far harder than he’d ever done before. Each time he slammed into him, he left Hanson’s ass red and stinging, feeling almost as if he’d been spanked rather than violently thrust into. His eager half-squealed whines were vibrating every time. He was starting to think that maybe, for once, he’d be the first of the two to cum. Then he felt it. Marcel plunged all the way into him one last time and then stopped. His hips were grinding but they didn’t pull back, keeping him fully bottomed out. Hanson’s hole was already sore but now it was being stretched again. He gave out a surprised cry, jolting in the lycan’s grasp as his knot slowly started to expand inside him, pushing at the walls of his sore hole and making him squirm anew. It was so big that he knew even without trying that it was stuck there - his tight little rim was straining already. Tears had even started to stream down his cheeks when he bit his lip and moaned.

All at once, Marcel was cumming. He pushed even further into him, stretching another part of his hole anew and forcing a strangled choke past his throat. His load was thicker than usual, coating Hanson’s insides and filling him up with ropes of sticky fluid. The zombie would never admit it but it was the wetness in his ass that had tipped him over the edge as well. A screaming sob passed his lips as his hands moved to one of Marcel’s meaty furred arms, his fingers scrambling along its surface as he tried to find something to hold onto. He’d never came so hard or so long. When he was done, he could barely lift his head from the counter.

“W-We... We have to do that again...” he managed to say through his breathy pants.

[strag-rp-sin]

30. Fighting/Wrestling

Gunnhild tightened the gauze around her hands and taped it into place. “You ready for this, Li Fen?”

“Always,” the other woman said.

Ever since the two of them had met at the gym a few months ago, they’d been sparring together regularly. They’d even started a tally to keep track of who won every week. Right now, they were solidly tied.

“Hope you’re ready to start a losing streak, Li Fen.”

The sorceress laughed as she took her stance. “That’s what you said last week, right before I kicked your ass.”

“You got a lucky shot,” Gunnhild said, raising her own fists. “You aren’t gonna be that lucky this time.”

They both started to pace around the room, slowly circling each other. As soon as they were close enough, Li Fen gave a quick jab. Gunnhild raised her guard and blocked it easily.

“Sloppy,” the berserker tutted.

Li Fen tried to hit her again. “Oh yeah? I wouldn’t talk cocky if I was the one that got pinned last time.”

Gunnhild laughed and gave a punch of her own. “And yet I seem to recall you doing just that when you lost three weeks in a row.”

The sorceress’ brows furrowed and she darted forwards. Gunnhild did more than just block her this time - she caught her fist in her hand and sent her toppling to the ground. A sharp ankle swipe from Li Fen had the berserker doing the same. She tripped and fell straight onto her sparring partner, their legs getting tangled up as they both made impact with the practice mat. Li Fen hit the floor first and Gunnhild quickly followed. She reached out her hands to try to soften her fall and pressed right into Li Fen’s front, enveloping the smaller woman with her body.

“Ah, fuck,” Gunnhild grunted, trying to push herself back up. “Are you all right?”

The only noise she got in response was a soft moan. Her hand was squeezed tightly around Li Fen’s breast, pressing down on it a little harder every time she moved. The sorceress’ cheeks had darkened and her eyes were wide, staring up at her as she tried to move. Gunnhild’s face went bright red too.

“S-Sorry!” she cried out in her panic, attempting to get up once more. Her knee shifted and pushed up between Li Fen’s legs, pressing against the seat of her leggings. The fabric was so thin that she could feel the sorceress’ folds parting under her. Her free hand slipped and she dropped lower still, only managing to stop when her face was inches from Li Fen’s.

It was the pinned sorceress that made the first move. She lifted her head just enough to press her lips to Gunnhild’s own. It was all the encouragement the berserker needed. She pushed down, deepening the kiss and working her tongue into Li Fen’s mouth. Her hand shifted in between them as it moved to grip the bottom of the sorceress’ sports bra and yank it up, freeing both of her breasts so she could touch them properly. They were far bigger than they’d ever seemed during any of their sparring matches. Her fingers sank straight into them, enveloped in the cushioned warmth as she pressed up against her nipple, drawing another sweet moan from Li Fen’s throat. It only made her want to play with her more.

Gunnhild squirmed and her leg moved with her. Her knee pushed even further into the gap between Li Fen’s thighs, making her part them a little more. The rolling movement pressed her into her clit and she rubbed up against it as hard as she could, enjoying the noises Li Fen let out in response. The sorceress was starting to wrap around her, desperately trying to pull her further in and whimpering whenever she succeeded.

“More,” Li Fen murmured.

Gunnhild was quick to comply. She gripped the top of the sorceress’ leggings and wrenched them down with both hands, finally removing her knee so she could tug them off entirely. Her palms pushed hard on her inner thighs and spread them as far as they could go. Li Fen’s pussy was red and pulsing. She could see how wet it was, yearning to be touched properly. To think that the usually tough fighter could be rendered so needy by a grinding knee alone. The smirk on Gunnhild’s lips grew. She’d have to remember this for later.

The berserker lowered her head and pushed down between Li Fen’s legs, her outstretched tongue pressing up against her dripping flesh and tasting her. Barely a touch and the sorceress was moaning. Her next lick came harder, pushing into her folds and then up towards her clit, swirling around it and driving her crazy. Her hips bucked and she squirmed, her violent movements only stilling when Gunnhild reached out to grip each of her wrists and pull on them hard, holding them in place. Over and over she lapped at her before plunging in and sucking on her clit. It was more than Li-Fen could stand. She came hard, letting out a squealing moan between her frantic pants.

When Gunnhild finally lifted her head, the remnants of Li-Fen’s juices still coated her lips. If the sorceress hadn’t been so lost in her pleasure, the sight of it would surely have deepened the tomato red tone of her cheeks. “I think I won that one,” the berserker said with a chuckle.

[strag-rp-sin]

29. Wax Play

“I’m so glad you took that extra time today to come see my show, Helia,” Morrigan said as she wrapped the blindfold around her bound girlfriend. “It’s only fair I give you something in return... Something that lets me see you put on a show this time.”

“And you aren’t going to tell me what it is?”

Morrigan laughed and pulled either end of the blindfold taut. “Of course not. I want you to guess.”

Helia squirmed where she was stood, pulling against the soft purple ropes that had been used to bind her. They dug in at her arms, her legs and her hips. There was even a single length of rope pulled up between her legs, parting her lips and pushing up between them. Every time she shifted it rubbed up against her, tormenting her pussy and crushing her sore little clit.

“You’re already wet, aren’t you?” Morrigan asked, bringing her fingers up to press at either side of the rope and spread Helia’s soft folds further. She was practically dripping.

“Mmhmm,” Helia nodded, only bucking in her confines again when the succubus pulled the rope tighter. “Watching your shows always gets me this way.”

Morrigan’s smirk grew. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll give you a private one later.” She brought her fingers up and pushed them into the witch’s open, moaning mouth. Helia never had to be told to suck. “Now wait here. I have to go get your present ready.”

Morrigan’s fingers pulled away again and Helia whined, trying to follow her as she left. All she earnt in return was another harsh rub between her legs that sent her teetering onto her tip-toes. It was a mystery how long Morrigan would be gone. She often did this, forcing her to wait for unknown periods before she finally returned to inflict whatever fresh torment she had in mind for that day. Helia could never tell how long it had been when she came back - it was impossible to know after all, hanging here blind to the world with only her own sensations to taunt her.

Finally, she heard the soft padding of footsteps on the carpet. It was Morrigan, she knew. And yet the mere chance that it might’ve  been someone else electrified her, making her squirm even before the succubus got close. Again she was made to wait. Morrigan didn’t say a word; nothing at all, not until that first fateful drop against her chest. It caught the top of her breast, sharp and hot, making her jolt and send each of them jiggling. There was no denying just what it was.

“Candles?” Helia asked, breaking their silence with a smirk of her own. “For me? How romantic.”

Morrigan smiled too and tipped the wax light up once more, letting it drip more of its hot residue onto the witch’s oversized tits. “Of course,” she said. “You’re very good at this game, Helia. Perhaps I should’ve made it harder for you.”

The mere suggestion brought a fresh blush to the Frenchwoman’s cheeks. Morrigan could be sweet and tender, as soft as the round curves that donned her body, but she could be just as cruel in equal measure. Helia yearned for those moments and oh, how she delighted in making sure the succubus knew it. “Please do,” she begged. In immediate response, a dollop of hot wax fell straight onto her nipple.

Helia threw her head back and howled, straining against the ropes that held her in place. Her breasts bounced up in the air, quick to meet the matching pain that was inflicted on the right-hand one, painting each of her sore nubs with the candle’s red-hot wax. Every drip caught a piece of untouched skin and drew a new sound past her lips. Each time she would writhe and move, pushing herself further into the twine between her legs until, when Morrigan finally granted her a much-needed respite, a long stream of juices had started to drip down beneath her. The succubus tutted as she reached down and caught in her hand.

“What a desperate little slut you are,” she said, once again pushing her fingers past Helia’s lips and forcing her to taste herself. “To think that you’d get so wet from having these fat tits of yours punished...” Another drop of wax hit her and she let out a muffled squeal. “Perhaps I’ll have to give them more attention like this in the future. Hmm?”

Morrigan’s hand left Helia’s mouth but her torment didn’t cease. It came down hard on her right-hand breast, smacking into the hardened wax there and making it crack and splinter, some of it falling away from her skin entirely. Her usually pale flesh was pink underneath and the punishment that had been inflicted on it was only making it all the more susceptible to Morrigan’s sadistic will.

“Oh,” the succubus said, the amusement clear in her voice as she smacked Helia’s tit again. “This is making you drip too. You must want this, mustn’t you?” Instead of hitting, her hand now squeezed, groping hard at the witch’s tender breast.

“Y-Yes, Mistress,” Helia managed to murmur past her choked moans.

“Then beg for it.”

The Desmarais teetered on her tip-toes and whimpered again. “P-Please, Mistress. Please punish me.”

Morrigan tutted and drew her hand back. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”

“Please punish my fat tits.”

She was rewarded with another hard smack. “What a good little slut,” she said. “Now hold still. It seems one of them’s managed to lose its pretty painted wax shell.”

Her fingers gripped the last piece of wax still coating Helia’s right-hand breast, the thick dollop that covered her nipple, tugging until it finally broke free and she could pinch and roll the sore little nub between her fingers once more. If Helia thought the wax had hurt the first time round, she had another thing coming - the second round was bound to make her scream.

[strag-rp-sin]

28. Facefucking/Deepthroating

“You sure you don’t want to come in the water with me, Orvar?”

Murtagh swam up to the low-lying pier and leant against it, looking up at his berserker husband with a flutter of his eyelashes. Orvar’s trousers were rolled up past his knees so he could trail his feet in the sea but nothing more.

“No,” he said. “I told you - it’s not long until tonight’s hunt.”

“But you ain’t got to come in for long,” the merman said, gently stroking his husband’s leg. “Just long enough for us to have some fun.”

Orvar was sorely tempted but he knew if he took too much time then his nephews would simply leave on their trip without him. Full moon hunts were far too valuable to any of them to be able to pass up.

“If I could I would, my love.” He brushed a strand of wet hair from Murtagh’s face. “I’ll swim with you when I’m back, I promise.”

The merman was still pouting as he drifted along in the water, settling in to float between Orvar’s legs. Each of his dripping hands pressed against his knees and spread them wide. The berserker didn’t have to be told what his husband had in mind - the hunger in his eyes made it clear.

“Well that don’t mean we can’t play, Orvar,” Murtagh said, watching as the trousers before him were unzipped. “You don’t want t’be all frustrated on your hunt, do ya?”

“I don’t,” Orvar agreed. With a single tug, he wrenched free his cock, letting it flop out in the evening light. It was already half-hard for watching Murtagh splash around and it twitched as the merman drew nearer.

Murtagh’s lips parted and the tip of Orvar’s cock pressed inside. His tongue lapped up against him, tasting his head as he swirled around it. He only pulled back to lick along his shaft instead, dragging his tongue up from his balls and back to his tip once more. Orvar groaned long and hard. His knees were trying to press together but Murtagh kept holding them far apart as he finally took his husband’s cock into his mouth proper and pushed down, not stopping until the meaty length was filling his throat.

Orvar brushed the hair from Murtagh’s face, getting a better look at his bright blue eyes as he kissed around his base. His mouth was sucking and his tongue was licking, even going so far as to push past the confines of his lips and press against his balls underneath. He stayed down there almost impossibly long, his throat bulging with throbbing cock, before he finally drew his head back and started to gently bob up and down. It was more than Orvar could stand. His gentle touch became rough as his fingers wrapped in his husband’s golden locks and tugged, forcing him down his shaft a little faster. At last Murtagh’s flawless performance produced a strained noise. Orvar could hear his tail splashing in the water when he yanked his head away from him before pulling it straight back down. Over and over he did it, steadily starting to fuck the merman’s pretty little mouth and his face beyond it. His hips lifted from the pier to meet him, thrusting along in time, and making Murtagh’s once-forceful hands scramble for his husband’s trouser leg instead. He wrapped his fingers into the rolls of fabric and let out a little squeal, thrashing again as the fucking got harder still. The berserker could never hold back once he’d started. He pounded his throat again and again, only stopping when he finally bottomed out inside him and started to cum.

His orgasm came long and hard, drawing a deep moan from his own throat as he spurted his load down Murtagh’s. He filled him up and then, as he started to pull back, filled his mouth too, whimpering every time the merman swallowed it all straight down. He could tell his husband was desperate for more. He couldn’t stay still, splashing about in the water with little fidgeting thrusts of his own. It was almost cruel to have to leave him there now and go off to the woods with his nephews instead.

“Orvar,” Murtagh whined, pulling himself further up onto the pier and gazing up at his husband’s face with needy eyes. “Ya can’t leave now. Not after gettin’ me all horny like that on purpose. How am I meant t’survive now, eh? Three days you’re gonna be on that hunting trip. It ain’t fair.”

Orvar leant in and pressed a kiss to his lips. He could taste his salty semen on the merman’s tongue but he didn’t mind. “Remember this feeling,” he murmured as he pulled back. “Because as soon as I'm home, I’ll be the one deepthroating you.”

Murtagh’s eyes widened and he let out the softest of chuckles. “You’d better,” he said. “Cause I’m gonna make you gag, big boy.”

[strag-rp-sin]

27. Multiple Orgasms

“I want to fuck you.”

The words shocked Maksym so much that he almost dropped his spell book. Eyes wide, he turned on his heel to gaze up at the looming figure behind him whose star-speckled face was, as always, hidden in the shadow of his darkened hood. His deep blue lips with their upturned corners were the only part he could clearly see.

“Y-You... You want to do what?” the mage’s apprentice stammered out, teetering at the edge of the summoning circle he’d carefully etched onto his bedroom floor with chalk.

Vanitaas tugged Maksym’s book out of his hands and threw it onto the bed. “I want to fuck you,” he repeated, taking a step closer. “I’ve seen the way you look at me... It’s what you want too, isn’t it?”

His large slender hand moved to brush some of the warlock’s hair from his face. Both of his cheeks had flared a violent red, the colour of which only deepened when he gave an eager nod.

“Good,” Vanitaas grinned before shoving him firmly.

The naive little apprentice had been so sure that he’d summoned a demon when Vanitaas had arrived in his bedroom a few days ago. Even though the alien, with his dark galaxy eyes and skin like the night sky, didn’t fit any of the descriptions he had in his book of summons, still he stayed firm in that belief. Vanitaas had not, as of yet, seen any reason to break the ruse. So onto the demonic runes he pushed him.

Where Maksym expected to smack into the hard wooden floor of his tiny attic room, he instead found himself floating into nothing. A portal had opened up right beneath him and swallowed him whole. The last few remnants of the real world faded away as the entrance closed up before his eyes, swirling into darkness until eventually it surrounded him on all sides. It was only Vanitaas’ arms wrapping around him that stopped him from screaming out in terror.

“Shh,” his demon cooed in his ear. His voice sounded different somehow, almost like it was everywhere at once. “You’re in my realm now.”

Maksym swallowed hard. “You used my summoning circle, didn’t you?”

The alien’s star-speckled hands moved to undress him. “Perhaps.”

Every time another of the boy’s clothes fell away, the darkness swallowed the fabric up and it disappeared entirely. It was only him, with his pale skin and light hair, that was remaining the contrasted constant to the swirls of nothingness that surrounded them. Even Vanitaas’ hands almost blended in entirely when Maksym’s body wasn’t there to give them shape. If it wasn’t for the mage apprentice’s insatiable curiosity, he’d surely have been terrified. Anyone normal would have been terrified, he was sure.

“Now, tell me,” Vanitaas said, his voice reverberating in the nothingness. The ever-shifting constellations on his fingers drifted over the untouched skin in his grip, trailing his ice cold grasp over every inch. “Have you ever done this before, my sweet little Maksym?”

Something started to trail around his leg. The sensation made him jolt and whimper but still he shook his head. “N-No,” he replied, trying to tug his calf away but finding it stuck fast.

“Not with anyone?”

The further up his body the feeling came, the more Maksym was able to see just exactly what it was. The easiest way to describe it would’ve been a tendril. Not one from a creature but one that had seeped out of the darkness itself, spectral and swirling, its grip heavy as iron despite its translucent smoky form. “Not... N-Not with anyone,” he confirmed.

“Oh?” The smirk on Vanitaas’ lips grew as his fingers came up between Maksym’s legs and brushed against his hole. “A virgin... just for me.”

The first fingertip started to press inside him and Maksym whimpered again. “I-Is it going to hurt?” he asked.

Vanitaas laughed. “Not unless you want it to.”

All of a sudden the tendril around Maksym’s leg lifted and pulled his limb along with it. There was more than one of them now, each twisting around a section of his body with increasing speed and moulding him to their will. His hands scrambled for his demon but never found him. Two tentacles wrapped around his wrists instead and pulled them wide, spreading his arms the same as they spread his quivering legs.

Maksym wanted to scream but no sound came out. The desire only went away when he felt the comfort of Vanitaas’ hands on him again. “Don’t be afraid,” the alien cooed. “Everything in my realm answers to me... That includes you now, my sweet.”

The little apprentice nodded. “Yes, Vanitaa--”

“Master.”

Maksym bit his lip before correcting himself. “Yes, Master.”

Vanitaas’ grin grew so wide it almost split his face in two. With a sure grip of tendrils and hands alike, he shifted the warlock and moved his cock in unison, pressing the shaft up between Maksym’s parted cheeks. The mage dared to look down and his violet eyes went wide. His demon might’ve dwarfed him in height but it was the monster he saw throbbing beneath him that truly made him feel small. There was no way that thing could fit inside him... Was there?

“Are you ready, Maksym?”

He felt the massive length pulse against his hole and nodded. “Y-Yes, Master.”

Vanitaas’ cock dragged backwards until it was merely his rounded tip that sat at the boy’s untouched entrance. Even the smallest of presses made Maksym’s body tense, tightening him a little more as his hole tried to clench shut. That only made Vanitaas push harder. Slowly he forced his rim open, stretching it steadily until it gave way and he could finally enter him. If not for the tendrils holding him in place, Maksym would surely have been thrashing like crazy. Vanitaas had lied - it did hurt. His hole was sore already, wracked with a burning sensation he could barely stand. He threw his head back and let out a cry of anguish.

“It hurts, it hurts!” he whined, clenching down once more and inadvertently increasing his own turmoil.

Vanitaas grunted. The boy was delightfully tight. “Patience,” he cooed. “Just a little more and I promise... You’ll start to feel incredibly good.”

Maksym wasn’t sure he trusted him. And yet still he let him push his cock deeper inside him, stretching him apart. Only then did he feel it. Vanitaas’ tip rolled over prostate, almost crushing it with his girth, and finally drew the first sweet moan past Maksym’s lips. Jolts of pleasure started to run down his spine, making him writhe and buck, the little cock between his legs dripping pre-cum from its head. With every strained and painful inch, the alien’s shaft got thicker. It pressed more and more against his prostate, so much so that he didn’t notice just how far his demon was pushing inside him. He went much further than a human’s cock ever would. So far in fact that his tip pressed against the inside of Maksym’s stomach and left a little bulge in its wake. With one last hungry thrust, he was in to the hilt.

Neither of them had expected Maksym to cum. The boy’s whole body squeezed around him, clenching down fiercely as he moaned and writhed. It was an orgasm like nothing he’d ever felt, bringing not only himself immense pleasure but Vanitaas too as he clamped down on his meaty shaft. The alien desperately wanted to feel it again.

Maksym’s orgasm hadn’t fully ebbed away when the tentacles surrounding him shifted. They spread him a little wider, making way for an all new spectral tendril to reach up between his legs and coil slowly around his cock. Feeling Vanitaas pull back, wrenching his massive length out of him and over his throbbing prostate, was already too much for him. The sentient darkness wrapped around him starting to pump and pulse was far more than he could bear. He all but screamed, his eyes wide as Vanitaas, rather than merely ignoring how over-sensitive he was, used it to his advantage instead, tormenting him and keeping him painfully hard. He couldn’t cum again so quickly. The alien, it seemed, didn’t know that.

“W-Wait,” Maksym murmured. He could feel the tendril’s tip rolling around his slit before it slowly started to push inside. “Wait, wait, I--Ah!” Vanitaas’ hold on him only tensed as the real fucking started. With that first fierce thrust inside, the tentacle was wrenched free. Again he came. The orgasm was even heavier than the first, another stream of sticky white gloop spurting out of him and disappearing into the darkness. He really did scream that time.

Vanitaas didn’t think it was possible for the boy to clench down so hard. He moaned, desperate to feel the impossibly tight sensation again. He’d just have to force Maksym to cum. Over and over, no matter how many times it took. Each thrust he gave, he aimed straight at the mage’s prostate, punishing the little nub with each hard impact. The tentacles at his front didn’t give his cock a moment’s rest either, pumping at it and massaging it, pushing inside it, squeezing and kneading at his balls. It gave just the effect Vanitaas wanted. Maksym came again and again. It got more painful every time until eventually he wasn’t able to cum at all. Dry orgasms were all the alien could rip from his weakened form, making him clench down afresh but little else. At some point, he’d stopped registering what was happening to him entirely. His head rested on his demon’s shoulder, his eyes heavy and his open mouth letting out steady whines as he merely lay back and endured the endless pleasure being inflicted on him. There was no respite. No respite at all until Vanitaas finally came too, long and hard, filling and coating the little mage apprentice’s insides fit to bursting.

Only then did the darkness drift away, the tentacles fading from view as they returned to reality. They were back in Maksym’s bedroom, stood in the smudged remnants of his summoning circle, his abandoned clothes in a pile on the floor. Vanitaas had the boy in his arms. He was awake but just barely, his body limp and spent. It’d be hours before he could move again. Vanitaas would’ve liked to play with him some more but perhaps Earthlings, it turned out, simply weren’t built for the games he had in mind.

[strag-rp-sin]

26. Creampie

There was a note pinned to Valnur’s door. Meet me in the bathhouse, it said in Huadama’s sprawling hand. I’d like to see my desert flower. x

Valnur knew full well what the message meant. He dismissed his entourage for the day and headed to the baths alone, taking only towels and a robe to change into when he was done. Even though public bathing was a big part of various aspects of Amonn Dominion culture, the baths they had here on Earth weren’t like anything they’d had in space. These ones had, supposedly, been commissioned in the Amonthera style but Earth was sorely lacking in the right materials to bring it up to par. Compared to the large hot springs on Aagnan, it was completely alien - those were very rustic, whilst this was a tiled and grand affair. It didn’t really feel like home for either of them but for Huadama it was one of the closest things.

“Huadama?” Valnur called out as he entered the bath proper, his clothes folded up neatly in the changing rooms.

“My desert flower!” There was a splash of water as Huadama stood up in the bath and turned to face him, a beaming smile on his lips. The priest was so often dressed in his religious finery with deep red make-up adorning his face that he seemed to be a level of naked far beyond mere nudity. Even his hair, which was usually curled about his head with intricate plaits, was only in a simple style right now, tied up so it wouldn’t trail in the water. “You got my note?”

Valnur smiled and nodded. It was sometimes hard to understand the Aagnan’s thick accent but he was getting better with time. “You wanted to see me?” Huadama’s feet were planted firmly at the bottom of the sunken tub when Valnur came up to the side and yet still the priest dwarfed him.

“Yes!” he cried, stepping up and out of the water. “To do more than just see you.” He reached out and grasped each of Valnur’s hands in his own. “To fuck you.”

The bluntness with which Huadama spoke brought a flush of red to Valnur’s cheeks. Huadama found the colour beautiful. “Th-Then do it,” he said. “Fuck me.”

The priest’s smile grew even wider. “Me first,” he said. “Please?”

It wasn’t an odd thing for Huadama to ask - the two aliens had learnt the hard way that the Aagnan lasted far longer than the Hindranil ever did. It was, or so Valnur had heard, something to do with how horrifically cold their planet was. The easiest work-around they’d found was for Valnur to fuck Huadama first and get him worked up before they did the opposite. Valnur didn’t mind - it meant he got to cum multiple times, after all.

When Huadama was on his back, he was finally at a height Valnur could handle. He positioned himself between his legs and pressed inside, pushing his cock into the priest’s ass and drawing a sweet moan past his lips. He was always so easy to sink into. Valnur wanted, perhaps just once, to be able to gaze into Huadama’s eyes whilst he did it. But this time, like all the others, he found himself eyeing the Aagnan’s cock instead. It was never there at first. There was something oddly mesmerising about the way it slowly emerged from his slit, growing and growing the entire time he was fucked. Valnur had never seen anything quite like it.

“You want it, don’t you?” Huadama asked, cupping the Hindranil’s face and finally drawing his eyes away.

“Yes,” Valnur nodded, his voice breathy.

A smirk spread on the priest’s lips and he clenched down, squeezing himself around his cock far tighter than he had been before. Valnur moaned. He whimpered and bit his lip, his fingers tensing where they were pressed into the soft white pillows of his thighs. Huadama had never once failed to make him cum like this. They could both already feel that this time was no different. Valnur pushed as far into him as he could when he came, filling the Aagnan in just the way he liked it. Not a single drop of the sticky white load escaped from his hole. Not even when Valnur eventually drew back, panting and spent.

As soon as he was able, Huadama’s hands moved to Valnur’s waist and gripped him tightly, lifting him up into his lap. The Hindranil had to spread his legs completely to straddle him properly and even then his feet struggled to touch the tiled floor. He never felt smaller than when he sat atop the priest like this. The first time they’d done it, that had scared Valnur. And yet Huadama had never hurt him. Not even once. Not unless he wanted him to. The Aagnan’s cock was far too large for him but when it pressed up against his hole and pushed inside him, it never felt that way. Huadama didn’t push too hard or too far. He could tell, somehow, just how much his little desert flower could handle and that was all he ever gave him. The only things he ever wanted for himself, that he begged for every time, were the loads of cum the both of them produced. The Aagnan referred to it exclusively as the ‘lava gift’ and had told him back when they’d first met that it was a blessing bestowed on them by God. Valnur didn’t quite understand it but if he wanted every drop of cum inside him then he didn’t see any reason to argue.

Huadama lifted Valnur a little higher, just enough to be able to push his cock past his lips. The Hindranil squirmed and whined, gripping at the priest’s shoulders as he was swallowed straight to the base, both his hole and his cock being granted immense pleasure. He always felt like he wouldn’t be able to cum again. And yet two, three, four more times he orgasmed, quivering and squealing as Huadama drank him down. It was almost a relief when the priest finally came too. His cock jerked inside him as he gave a few last lazy thrusts. All at once, Valnur could feel himself being filled. It was more cum than his body could properly take and having all of it pumped into his ass made his stomach swell and his cock leak anew. Only when he was full to the brim and fit to burst did Huadama pull out.

And yet still the Aagnan wasn’t done with him. He lifted him again, sat him on his face, spread his cheeks and started to lap at his gaping hole. The deep red cum he’d left inside him was steadily dripping out but that wasn’t enough for the priest. He pressed his lips to him and pushed his tongue inside, sucking it out of him. It was more than Valnur could stand. He gripped Huadama’s horns as hard as he could, tears welling in his eyes as he endured the over-stimulation wracking through his body. He felt himself getting closer and closer yet again, so sure he didn’t have it in him to cum another time. In some ways, he was right - it was a dry orgasm that Huadama dragged out of him with his never-ending licking. His legs had turned to jelly long ago but now it felt like they weren’t quite there at all.

Finally, after what felt like forever, Huadama lifted Valnur up off his face and back into his lap, sitting up so he could cuddle him close. The priest was barely even out of breath. “Did my little desert flower have fun?” he asked, the glittering look in his eyes making it clear that he already knew the answer to that question.

“Y-Yes,” Valnur managed to say as he trembled in Huadama’s arms. “I... I love you.”

The priest brushed some dishevelled strands of blue hair from Valnur’s face and leant in, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. Valnur could taste their cum on his tongue, salty but not unpleasant. “I love you too,” the Aagnan murmured. “I think I always will.”

[strag-rp-sin]

25. Begging

When Neritok first heard something shaking overhead in his office, he assumed the source was someone on the floor above. What he hadn’t expected was for one of his ceiling tiles to slide out of place and for a pair of legs and a fluffy tail to emerge underneath. It was easy sometimes for the Zhuktor to forget that the Shaan he lived with was an accomplished thief. It was times like this, when he landed on the floor of the office with barely a sound, that those memories came flooding back.

“Fucking hell, Zenix!” he cried out in surprise, almost jumping out of his skin when the tiny man appeared in the corner of his eye. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

Zenix padded over to him and leapt up onto his desk. He was pouting, no doubt because he’d been shouted at. “I wanted ta see ya,” he said simply. “Didn’t ya want t’see me?”

“Not at work, no.” Neritok sighed, rubbing at his brow. “How did you even get in here?”

The Shaan’s pout quickly disappeared in favour of a sly grin. “I gots me ways. You know that.”

“This isn’t funny, Zenix,” Neritok said as he reached out, hooking two fingers under Zenix’s collar and tugging, forcing his head down lower. “I’ll lose my job if they catch you in here. Go home.”

Zenix whined. “But I’m lonely at home. It ain’t no fun without you there.”

“Then go to town and do something. I’ll give you some money for the arcade.”

“I don’t wanna go to the arcade!” Zenix’s eyes welled up and he gripped at Neritok’s arm, hugging it close. “I already said, didn’t I? I wanted ta see you! Nothin’ else!”

Neritok’s frown faltered for a moment. “I’ll be home in a few hour--”

“No ya won’t,” the Shaan sniffed. “Every day they makes ya stay late. Please can’t I stay with you?”

“No.”

“Pretty please!” Zenix edged further forward on the desk. Neritok could never really tell whether the puppy dog eyes he always brought out were on purpose or if they were just how his face looked. “Ya know I’m a good hider! I’ll be all small and hidden! Just let me stay, please!”

“No.”

Zenix looked like he really might start crying. And yet he clambered off the desk and right into Neritok’s lap, straddling him and gripping onto his shoulders. “Please, Neritok. I’ll do anythin’.”

“...Anything?”

Zenix nodded as hard as he could. “Anythin’, anythin’!”

The scowl was still on the Zhuktor’s face when he gripped Zenix’s waist and lifted him up. He placed him on the floor, scooting him down beneath the desk, before trapping him inside with his office chair. All the furniture in the office was too big even for Neritok - for the fully grown Zhuktor this desk had been intended for, fitting into the leg space beneath the metal top would’ve been a nightmare. Neritok could’ve fit under there quite easily; Zenix had room to spare.

“You can stay,” he said. “But if you only if you stay here, you keep quiet, and--” He unzipped his leather trousers, pulling out both of his meaty cocks and putting them on full display. “--you make it worth my while.”

Zenix’s cheeks reddened but he was smirking when he nodded. “Anythin’ for you, Master.”

Neritok finally smiled back when he reached down and scratched at his pet’s ears. “Good boy,” he praised before finally pushing his chair all the way in and getting back to his work.

Zenix didn’t waste any time. He got straight up onto his knees and gripped at Neritok’s thighs, parting them wide so he could settle in between his legs. Sucking the Zhuktor’s cocks had seemed complicated at first but his master had shown him how to pleasure both of them at once. He took one in each hand and started to pump up and down. His little tongue darted out and lapped at the tips, licking each one in turn, his tail wagging behind him as he shifted position. Eventually he parted his lips and, after tugging the upper one out of the way, his hand still stroking along its length, took the bottom cock into his mouth.

That was when there was a knock at the door.

Neritok visibly tensed, swallowing hard before he answered. “Come in.”

It was one of his work colleagues that strode in, a full-blooded Zhuktor that actually filled the doorway when he passed through it. He strode over and took a seat opposite. “You alright? You’re looking a bit flushed.”

“I’m fine,” Neritok replied a little too quickly, his cheeks darkening even more. “It’s just hot in here, that’s all.”

His colleague shrugged. “Yeah, I guess it sorta is. Did you hear they’re rescheduling us this afternoon?”

Neritok nodded. His cock was tickling the back of Zenix’s throat. If the Shaan gagged, it’d all be over. “Yes, I...” He swallowed and shifted in his seat. “I heard about that. Apparently they want the prisoner to talk ASAP.”

“More than that. You’re up in ten.”

“What?”

“They told me to come fetch you. Reckoned you might not’ve seen the latest change.”

Neritok bit his lip. “...Tell them I’ll be there in a minute. I’ve just got some stuff to finish up here first.”

“They ain’t gonna like that,” his colleague said as he stood up again. “Don’t reckon anyone but you’d even get away with saying it.”

“Oh, I know,” Neritok said. “But I’m just not in a position where I can tear myself away.”

The other Zhuktor nodded. “Alright then,” he said as he left. “I’ll see you down there.”

As soon as the door closed again, Neritok let out the desperate moan he’d been holding in that whole time. Zenix had stuffed his whole length inside him, kissing up against the base of his cock every time his head bobbed up and down. The little Shaan had no business being so good at this. Neritok could barely stand it. He gripped at the back of his chair as hard as he dared, digging his fingers in and whimpering every time Zenix swallowed around his shaft. He normally managed to remain so stern. It was amazing how quickly pleasure changed that.

“Faster,” he urged in breathy pants, groaning when Zenix complied. “Fuck! Th-That’s it.”

If his mouth hadn’t been stuffed full of cock, Zenix’s smirk would still have been firmly in place. He swirled his tongue around him, rolled his thumb around the head of the other cock, and squeezed his balls just the way he liked him to. He didn’t want to have to stop. He knew that Neritok would have to leave then, off to torture on the state’s behalf for who knew how long. But no matter how much he tried to stave off the Zhuktor’s orgasm, it came all the same, hard and heavy.

Zenix pulled back off his cock enough to be able to press the head of the second one inside him too, stretching his lips and straining his jaw with double the girth. When Neritok blew his load, his cum spurted all over his tongue, coating his mouth and his throat as he eagerly swallowed it down. He even lapped and suckled at the two dripping tips to clean them off before he pulled back, looking more dishevelled than usual.

Neritok smiled and petted him, stroking at his ears and the sides of his face. “Good boy,” he praised. “My lovely good little Zenny.”

Zenix beamed wide at that, nuzzling into every gentle touch his master’s hands gave him. “I wish you could stay with me, Master.”

“Well I can’t,” the Zhuktor said as he got to his feet. He reached down to grab the cushion that, if anyone asked, was definitely on his desk chair for comfort and not because he was too short for it otherwise. “Here, you can nap on this. I’ll be back in no time at all if you just nap, won’t I?”

Zenix took the cushion and hugged it close. It smelt completely and utterly of Neritok. He didn’t need to be told to curl up on it and go to sleep - that much, whilst nestled beneath this desk in the warmth and darkness, was inevitable. “I love you, Master,” he murmured, his voice muffled by the cushion in his arms.

Neritok’s whole face softened at that. “I love you too,” he said before finally taking his leave.

[strag-rp-sin]

24. Stockings/Lingerie

Adelulf was ready to leave: beard trimmed, hair waxed down, and aftershave on. There was a show at Foxxxhole he wanted to catch and then it was straight to the nightclub where, luck providing, he’d find at least one girl willing to go home with him after. Everything was on schedule and according to plan. Everything, that was, except the unexpected blonde lurking on his doorstep.

Lennan had been about to knock when Adelulf opened the door. He took one look up at him and then turned his head away, a small pout on his lips. “You’re going out, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Won’t you stay in instead?” the Irishman asked, his eyes still firmly focused on the floor. “With me?”

Adelulf laughed. “On a Saturday night? No.”

He went to stride past when Lennan stepped in his path, arms hugged tight around the coat he was wearing. His cheeks were red and he was biting his lip as he slowly moved his hands to open it and reveal what was underneath. Or rather, that is, what wasn’t. Skimpy lingerie was the only thing protecting him from baring all, its tight black lace snug against his white skin. He was even wearing suspenders, stockings, and a pair of strappy black heels. Perhaps those, in hindsight, Adelulf should’ve noticed beforehand.

“D-Do you want to stay in with me now?” Lennan asked, gripping the sides of his coat with shaking hands.

Adelulf’s eyes went wide. And yet he still gave the answer Lennan desperately didn’t want to hear. “No.”

His heart sank. The blush that covered his face deepened as he went to close his coat again, desperate to flee as quickly as possible. The only thing that stopped him was Adelulf stepping towards him, almost pressing his body up against his half-naked form, and gripping his chin tightly. There were tears starting to form in his eyes when the Lycan forced him to tilt his head up. Why did he have to fall for him like this? Why him, of all the men?

“You’re going to come out with me instead.”

Now it was Lennan’s turn to be shocked. His mouth opened just enough for Adelulf to push his tongue past his parted lips, kissing him deeply and making him whine where he stood.

“I’d do that coat up if I were you,” Adelulf murmured, stroking a finger along his jaw. “That is, of course, unless you want everyone to see what you’re wearing for me?” His other hand gripped his waist and tugged him closer. Lennan was cold in the autumn chill. He’d have to find a way to warm him up later. “To see what a slut you really are underneath it all?”

Lennan swallowed hard. It was Adelulf he’d wanted to be leaving breathless and yet he was the one stood here with his cock steadily hardening and a face like sun-ripened tomatoes. “Aren’t you going out to pick up girls?”

“I was,” he admitted. “But maybe something else can keep me entertained instead.”

Lennan tried to hide the smile that spread across his lips. He drew back, pulling his coat back around himself and tying it firmly shut. He should’ve been wearing something warmer in this weather but this pea-coat hugged his slender curves in a way he couldn’t resist showing off to the older man. It shouldn’t have made him so happy to draw Adelulf away from the groups of women that sat in his regular booth at the club. He knew, deep down, that he shouldn’t have been dedicating himself to a man that he had to compete for the attention of in the first place. And yet now, the same as every other time he had done it, a warm feeling spread through his body and filled his heart. Adelulf’s arm around his waist, his breath on his ear, his kisses on his neck... He yearned for them all. It wasn’t like the lycan hadn’t told him what he was setting himself up for when he’d confessed to him all those months ago. He knew full well that Adelulf would never be the perfect ideal man. He didn’t want him to be. He simply wouldn’t be the Adelulf he’d fallen in love with if he was.

“We’re going to Foxxxhole first aren’t we?” Lennan asked, watching the route they were taking from Adelulf’s place. It was only a few streets away - that, he was sure, must’ve been by design.

“Oh?” Adelulf smirked as he pulled his arm tighter around Lennan’s middle, hearing his heels click on the pavement as he teetered a little closer. “Have I taken you there so many times now that you know where we’re going from the off?”

“Maybe...” He bit his lip. “Can I sit on your lap once we get there?”

He got a soft chuckle in return. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As soon as the club came into sight, it became clear why Adelulf had been so desperate to come - the posters on the outer walls were advertising a special performance by Morrigan. One where, it promised, she was going to bare all. Lennan didn’t mind that the lycan always came to her shows. He didn’t even mind that, according to the man himself, he knew her. In the biblical sense, of course. All that really mattered was that when Adelulf took a seat as close to the stage as possible, he pulled Lennan into his lap just like he’d promised, hooked an arm around his middle and kept him firmly in place. Lennan could feel his every movement like that. Especially the one between his legs that formed a tent at the front of his trousers and pressed up against Lennan’s ass. All he had to do was spread his thighs and push back.

“That eager already?” Adelulf half-grunted into his ear. “The night’s only just begun.”

Lennan rolled his hips and ground up against him. “Aren’t you talking to yourself there?” he asked. “I could do this for hours... I don’t think you’d last nearly as long.”

Adelulf’s fingers tensed around him and wrenched him ever closer, drawing a soft whine past his lips. “You wanna bet on it?”

Those words alone made Lennan’s eyes widen. He bit his lip, sounding a little out of breath when he spoke. “What’s your price?” It was a question he felt sure he’d regret asking.

“If I’m the one that can’t stand it anymore, then you win. We’ll go straight home and I’ll spend the night in with you, just like you wanted. No-one else taking my attention...” He leant further in, his lips brushing at Lennan’s ear as he spoke. “But if I win and you beg me to fuck you like I know you inevitably will then we aren’t going anywhere. We’ll be staying out all night. Don’t worry though, I’ll still be fucking you - in whatever club toilet happens to be closest. The only real question here is that, when you stagger out of the stall barely able to walk, will you do your best to hold all of my cum inside you or will you let it leak out, trailing down your leg where anyone could see it?”

Lennan felt ashamed to admit it but he was already ready to beg. He might’ve wanted to spend hours in Adelulf’s bed when he’d first gone to his house earlier that evening but now, perched in an armchair with the outline of a girthy cock spreading his ass cheeks far apart, he wanted nothing more than to stay just where they were. “Then, please...” he started, having to stop when Adelulf’s tight grip threatened to draw a moan past his lips. “Please fuck me, Adelulf. I-I want it. I want it so bad.”

“Shh,” Adelulf cooed. “Don’t worry. Just as soon as the show���s over, you’ll get your fucking. You deserve it.” His hands snaked up under Lennan’s coat, stroking along his stockings until he reached the bare skin above them. “For wearing this... just for me.” For just a moment, he released him. Then a hard smack came across his thighs. “Even if you have taken over my Saturday night.”

Lennan smirked. Hopefully, one day, he’d take over every single one of his nights. That was, ultimately, what he truly wanted.

[strag-rp-sin]

23. Multiple Penetration

“Which one’s yours?”

The corner of Xenos’ lips couldn’t help but turn up when the tiny Desmarais looked at him, his large lilac tail swaying back and forth. “That one just there.”

Femi followed the alien’s finger with his eyes and then skipped over to his tent, peeking inside before going in. For how simple they looked from the outside, these soldiers’ quarters were incredibly detailed within. There were real beds and furniture, coloured patterns decking the fabric walls, and soft carpet underfoot. Xenos’ tent was quite understated compared to the others and yet still its decor brought a soft gasp past Femi’s lips.

“This is where you live?” he asked the purple alien when he finally emerged past the curtained entrance.

“Yes,” Xenos replied. “At least whilst I’m on Earth.”

Femi smirked and slipped out of his shoes, padding over the carpet and up onto the bed. The mattress was so soft that it bounced him up into the air when he landed on it and the sheets were unlike anything he’d ever felt - some sort of fabric from beyond the stars, he was certain.

“Won’t you come up here with me, Xenos?” He turned, lying back on the quilt and directing his mischievous smile at the Daah instead. “This bed’s far too big for just one person.”

Xenos returned his smile as he walked over. “You won’t be saying that once I’m on it,” he said. “There might not be any room for you at all.”

“Oh?” Femi got up onto his knees and started to undress, slipping his robes off of his shoulders. “I guess you’ll just have to lay on top of me, then. To save space, of course.”

Xenos chuckled. “Yes, I suppose I will.” He removed his own shirt too, revealing the purple muscles he’d been hiding underneath. It was when his trousers fell to the floor though that Femi really reacted.

“Mon Dieu...” the Frenchman murmured, his eyes going wide.

Xenos raised a brow at the unfamiliar language, lifting his head to look at the shock on Femi’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” he said, his cheeks reddening as the smile on his lips became bashful. “It’s just... there’s two of them.”

Xenos blinked for a moment before starting to laugh. “Yes,” he said. “There are.”

The Daah stood at his full height and the two cocks between his legs rose too, each one of the violet erections already rock-hard. He’d been teased for his half-Zhuktor physiology in his youth but now he was older, it only ever earnt him praise. His father hadn’t given him anything else in life - nothing bar his purple-toned skin, imposing height, and second girthy cock.

Femi couldn’t take his eyes off it. Even when Xenos crawled onto the bed in front of him, gripped the last few articles of clothing donning his body, and tugged them free.

“Are... Are you going to use both of them?” he asked at last.

“I can,” Xenos replied, parting Femi’s bare legs and settling in between his thighs. “If you’d like.”

The Desmarais’ entire face flared red and he nodded eagerly. “Y-Yes,” he said. “Please.”

Xenos’ smirk grew as he brushed Femi’s fluffy tail out of the way and lined himself up against his hole. Just one of the deep purple cockheads started to press into him at first, making him whine and grip the bed sheets far sooner than he’d expected to. These cocks weren’t just long, they were thick too, and the way just the tip of one of them was stretching his rim was barely more than he could stand. Xenos wasn’t sure he’d actually fit inside him. Femi was just so much smaller than he was and his skin was so soft when he gripped him, his fingers sinking into his thighs and then his hips, that it felt like he might break him at any moment. And yet as soon as he was deep enough, the Desmarais’ legs wrapped around his middle and dragged him further in, his golden eyes sparkling with desire. It seemed Femi wanted to be destroyed.

As soon as he was able, Xenos pressed the second of his cocks up against Femi’s reddened hole. He must surely have been sore already and yet when another tip invaded his rim, stretching him even wider, a loud moan passed his pretty pink lips. It was all the motivation Xenos needed. He sank deep inside him, pressing as far as he could possibly go and hooking his arms around the jackal’s slender waist.

“Xenos,” Femi murmured, his voice dripping with lust. “More.” His tender begging was punctuated by his arms circling the alien’s neck and pulling him in, giving him the softest of kisses.

Xenos didn’t have to be told twice. He drew his hips back and then slammed deep inside him, the slap of their flesh reverberating in the domed tent. Even though both of the cocks inside him came from the same man, Femi could still feel the difference between them. They throbbed at different rates, each stretching his hole in opposite directions as they tried to return to their natural position. He felt as though they might tear him apart but he loved it. Every inch, every movement was like a pure bliss that he couldn’t quite describe. He never wanted it to end.

Over and over Xenos plunged inside of him, fucking him harder than it felt like he ever had been before. And yet it was still strangely gentle, even with such a massive two-cocked man balls deep inside him. His touches were soft and tender and, no matter how sore he was getting, Femi couldn’t feel any of the pain. In no time at all, he was cumming. His whole body clenched down around the alien, from his hole to his legs to his arms. The moan he let out was louder than any before it and he came hard, spurting out a load far larger than he could usually manage. That was all it took to tip Xenos over too. It was his bottom cock that came first, filling him up as his last few heavy thrusts sent the other cock hurtling over the edge as well. The more the alien slowly started to pull out of him, the more he felt just how much cum he’d left inside him, the thick sticky substance starting to pour out of his hole just as soon as it was empty. He’d really never felt anything like it.

“W-Wow,” he managed, giggling as he looked up at Xenos’ face. “If it’s going to be like that every time then I’ll have to come to your tent more often.”

[strag-rp-sin]

22. Choking

Xiu-Wei was stood in the middle of the party, laughing loudly with the men that surrounded him. He kept hiding his giggling face behind his fan and letting them all kiss the back of his hand. They whispered in his ear, gripped the small of his back, and played with his hair. They did, that is, until Aristide Desmarais came striding towards them, his face like thunder, to grip Xiu-Wei by the wrist and drag him away.

The smaller man let him pull him along, leaving the party and heading into the more private areas of the Desmarais mansion, smirking all the while. Up the stairs they went, across the grand landing and towards the only room up here that Xiu-Wei felt truly familiar with - Aristide’s bedroom, which he was bundled into unceremoniously. He could feel Aristide looming at his rear. The Frenchman tugged him close and wrapped his hand around his throat. Xiu-Wei’s eyes went wide and he whimpered, the noise getting caught as Aristide’s fingers kept tightening. He gripped them with his own, trying to loosen their hold as he started to choke.

“I know you’re doing this shit on purpose,” Aristide hissed in his ear. His free hand was busy tugging down Xiu-Wei’s trousers, letting them fall about his ankles where his legs would be too twisted up in them to move. “You were trying to make me jealous, weren’t you?” He gave the boy’s newly-bared ass a harsh slap. “Huh?”

Xiu-Wei nodded as best he could, yelping as his other cheek was spanked as well.

The Desmarais finally released him. “Get undressed,” he ordered, shoving him towards the bed. “You wanted me jealous? Well I am.”

Xiu-Wei half-stumbled and fell face-first onto the mattress. He was blushing when he looked back at Aristide, who was still glaring in his direction. He’d wanted to annoy him but this was far more than he’d ever hoped for. It made him bite his lip, his fingers eager as he quickly worked to disrobe. He’d barely managed to remove his cheongsam when the Desmarais’ hands were back on him, yanking on his plait whilst he lead him into position.

“It seems someone needs a long, hard lesson about who he belongs to,” Aristide said as he half-threw Xiu-Wei down onto the bed. Again his palm came down on his bare ass cheeks, leaving painful red marks in its wake. “And about who he shouldn’t be fluttering his slutty fucking eyelashes at.”

“Who knew you were so touchy?” Xiu-Wei managed to say before Aristide wrapped his plait around his throat and tugged, choking him with his own hair as he clambered atop him.

“You wanna see touchy, Xiu-Wei?” He yanked on his hair, drawing a moan past his lips.

“Yeah,” Xiu-Wei managed to say, flashing him a self-satisfied smirk. “I do.”

Aristide pressed him into the bed sheets, pushing his whimpering face up against the fabric. His ass raised in turn, primed and ready for the cock that pressed at its entrance. The Desmarais had no interest in being slow or gentle. He rammed his tip straight into him, stretching his rim wide around him and forcing a muffled scream past his lips. Onwards he pressed, never stopping until he was as far inside as he could ever hope to have gone. He could feel Xiu-Wei’s hole throbbing around him. It must’ve been hurting him already and yet the whines that came up from the mattress were eager ones of pleasure as his own rock hard cock was pinned against the bedspread. When Aristide pulled back, a half-choked moan sounded. It only made him want to treat him meaner.

He wrapped the plait in his hand around it once more and gave another wrenching tug, listening to the choked splutters beneath him as he truly started to fuck his slender boyfriend. His heavy thrusts slammed into him over and over, every one feeling as though it might tear him apart. Xiu-Wei could barely stand it, from the painful burning in his hole to the plait pulled tight around his throat, and the frantic noises he kept letting out were only making that more clear by the second. He came almost embarrassingly quickly. He came a second time before Aristide was done.

The Desmarais’ thrusts came hard and heavy when he finally blew his load deep inside Xiu-Wei’s ass. He filled him up with every drop before he pulled out, admiring the gaping reddened hole he’d left in his wake. And yet still his boyfriend hadn’t earnt any respite. Aristide pushed a large plug into him, sealing his cum deep inside, before he finally dragged Xiu-Wei’s head up off of the bed and started to whisper into his ear.

“Now get dressed,” he said, still rubbing his hand over the base of the plug. “You’re going to go back down to that party with me, stuffed full of my cum, and you’re going to behave.” He yanked on Xiu-Wei’s plait again. “And if I see you flirt with anyone else whilst you’re down there, I’m dragging you right back up here and putting the paddle to this disobedient ass of your’s. Am I making myself clear?”

Aristide’s hand came down on Xiu-Wei’s reddened cheeks, drawing a pained whimper past his lips. “Y-Yes, Daddy,” he stammered. “I understand.” Or at least, he thought to himself, he understood just what to do to earn the hardcore spanking he so desperately desired.

[strag-rp-sin]

21. Sensory Deprivation

The first sense Nocturne lost was his sight. A large blindfold was pulled over his eyes and then tied into place, the knot snug between his head and the pillow. The gag came next - it was shaped like a dildo and so long that it filled his mouth completely when it was pushed inside. The tip pressed at the back of his throat and almost made him gag. He was going to be forced to swallow around it the whole time.

“Are you ok?”

Nocturne nodded in response.

“And you remember what to do if you want out?”

Another nod.

“Good. Then do it for me.”

Aurelio watched as Nocturne moved his hand the way he’d showed him from where it was cuffed up against the headboard. Only then did he slip the headphones over his head.

All at once, Nocturne’s world went dead. He couldn’t hear or see anything no matter how hard he tried. He’d known, of course, that this was the purpose of what Aurelio was doing to him but the pitch black silence he’d been left in was more than he’d ever expected. He thought he’d be able to peek, that the noises would merely be muffled, that he’d know exactly where the tall blonde was... But when the bed sheets beside him shifted and he felt the weight of Aurelio’s body leave, a sudden fear of the unknown hit him.

The taller Sesharrimian paced around him, watching as he squirmed and writhed without even a touch. Only when he started to still did he trail his fingertips along his side, down past his hips and onto his inner thigh. The reaction was more than he could’ve hoped for. Muffled squeals came from past Nocturne’s gag as he jolted, half from surprise and half from the heightened sensitivity that wracked through his every nerve. Aurelio’s smile only grew. Playing with him now would be even more fun than it usually would.

Every time, Nocturne had no clue what was coming. Was Aurelio even still in the room? Did he have something in his hands? Where was he going to touch him? Was he going to touch him at all? What if he left and didn’t come back? What if it wasn’t Aurelio’s fingers he was feeling on him at all? His brain was working at a million miles a minute, tormenting him with questions and what ifs that only amplified every time he felt a light touch to his body. Aurelio loved to torture him like this. He just knew that every time he thrashed and whimpered, the man standing over him would be grinning and laughing. It brought a flush to his cheeks. Nothing could be more embarrassing than admitting to the self-righteous sociopath that he yearned for his cruel treatment, but around Aurelio he didn’t need to. His face told him all he needed to know.

The Laertes’ long slender fingers gently pushed up between his legs and brushed against his hole. That touch alone made him scream. Aurelio didn’t stop, circling it over and over, watching him squirm and fight against even the lightest of sensations. When he actually started to press inside him, he thought Nocturne might desperately tap out. Instead his desperation came in the form of a needy moan, tearing through his entire body as his thighs shook and his ass clenched. Further and further in he went, just one finger sliding slowly inside, until he could finally give his prostate the tiniest of strokes. Of all the things he’d expected to bring Nocturne to the edge, that wasn’t it. He tore his hand away as quickly as he could, denying him his unexpected orgasm. Nocturne was far too sensitive to be played with like this... Aurelio would have to try something else; something he usually didn’t do unless one of his subs had been on denial for a very long time and he wished to keep them that way, excruciatingly desperate and still unable to cum. To think that a whole month’s worth of careful edging could be emulated with a gag and a pair of headphones. It was more than Aurelio could ever have hoped for.

After reaching his first fateful edge, Nocturne didn’t feel anything for a while. He was left to pant and whimper, feeling his frantic pleasure ebb away, his hole and cock throbbing as they yearned to be touched once more. When they finally were, he began to wish that he’d never yearned for it at all. It wasn’t Aurelio’s finger this time that tickled at the underside of his dripping cock. It was a feather - that much was clear. Only the briefest and lightest of stimulation were granted to him and yet, somehow, that was almost enough. Whenever Aurelio used it on him for too long, he felt another edge starting to approach, his needy cries being rewarded by the removal of the feather entirely. He had no idea how long Aurelio had been torturing him this way and he had no idea how long it would continue. All he could do was lie there and take it, enduring every flick of the soft plume in the full knowledge that he’d never be allowed to tip over from it.

Drool was seeping from the corners of Nocturne’s gag and tears from the bottom of his blindfold. And yet, even as another pained sob tried to pass his lips, he never asked to be let out. It made Aurelio’s eyes glitter with glee. He’d never wanted to fuck him so desperately. How many times, he wondered, would Nocturne cum if he took him right now? And how crazy would it make him, the sadistic thoughts in his mind asked instead, if he didn’t let him cum at all? It was that cruel streak he always embraced that sent him searching for the cock ring, eager to clamp it onto his little torture victim and see just exactly what would happen. Nocturne would perhaps come to regret allowing Aurelio to have his way with him. But Aurelio suspected that the opposite was true - that Nocturne would, inevitably, beg to be treated this way again.

[strag-rp-sin]

20. Body Worship

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to leave those two alone?”

“Why? Because they hate each other?” Deimos laughed and waved his hand. “Oh, they’ll be married soon, won’t they? They’re going to have to get used to being alone together sometime.”

Paedir looked back over his shoulder. The more he saw Cazmir and Cadenza together, the less certain he became that their engagement would come to fruition. It was an arranged marriage, as almost all of them were when it came to the Sesharrimian nobility, but this one seemed a particularly bad match. So far the only good part of accompanying his twin brother on this outing with her was meeting her brother, sweet Deimos, who was tugging lightly on his arm.

“If this makes us bad chaperones then we shall simply have to live with that status,” the blonde continued, still keen to lead Paedir towards the back of the club. There were curtained off areas there, intended for exactly what he had in mind. “I can think of much better things to do than watch them glare at each other.��

A smirk had found its way onto Paedir’s lips when he finally turned his attention back to Deimos. “I dare say that I can, too.”

He let the younger di Voce take him past an array of pink and purple curtains, ending up in a free booth full of pillows and cushions. All at once Deimos started to disrobe, only stopping when Paedir stilled his hands.

“There’s no rush,” he said as he tugged the blonde a little closer. His back pressed up against his front, his head tilted at just the right angle for Paedir to lean in and press a tender kiss to his neck. “I want to enjoy you.”

Deimos bit his lip but smiled nonetheless. “So you’re not here to just fuck me?” he asked.

“Oh, I am here to fuck you,” Paedir said as he reached forwards and slowly started to unbutton Deimos’ blouse. “Just not like that.”

He gently peeled the fabric from the other man, leaving his chest bare. His hands were quick to roam. They slid upwards before resting on his nipples and rubbing around them, teasing him long before he started to pinch them between his fingers. Deimos whimpered at first and then he moaned. He reached up and gripped Paedir’s wrists hard, squirming where he was stood.

“More,” he begged, trying to drag his hands lower. “Please.”

Paedir chuckled but did what he asked. One of his hands left Deimos’ nipples and trailed back down his body, undoing his trousers and letting them fall to the floor. The blonde was already hard under his underwear but that only made him want to go slower. The tips of his fingers brushed beneath the top of the silky fabric, getting close enough for Deimos to start whining anew, before pulling back just as quickly. Only then did he tug at the ties holding it on and let the thong fall away from him completely.

“You’re beautiful,” Paedir murmured. “Every inch.”

Deimos let out a bashful giggle, breaking Paedir’s hold on him as he turned around. “I’m sure you are too,” he said. “But you just aren’t letting me see.”

His hands were far faster than Paedir’s had ever been, starting at the soldier’s collar and moving all the way down his body as he quickly popped every shirt button from its hole and stripped him of it entirely. He was just as toned and muscular beneath as he’d suspected. Deimos’ hands trailed over him, groping and stroking at every bump and crevice with a lick of his lips. He only pulled away to move to his trousers and tug those away too, finally making Paedir just as naked as he was.

“I knew it. Big and beautiful.”

Deimos looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes, a large smirk playing on his lips, as he took Paedir’s cock in his hands. He too was hard and it took barely a squeeze to draw a sweet groan from the soldier’s lips. Deimos tugged lightly, leading him along by it and turning him around, just so he could push him down into the pillows at their disposal. He walked over the top of him, placing a foot at either side of his hips, before slowly lowering himself down into his lap. His hand grasped at Paedir’s cock once more but this time it was to lead it up to his hole, pressing his tip against him so that when he was sat down, he was filled with every inch of the soldier’s great length.

Deimos’ sweet moans inches from his face were too much for him. Paedir brushed the blonde strands out of his eyes, cupped his cheeks with hard but gentle hands, and brought him into a kiss far more tender than the ones usually reserved for a first encounter in a nightclub. The soldier only broke away when he wanted to speak, letting his words brush up against Deimos’ lips.

“I promise you that I don’t do this very often.”

Deimos smiled. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“You misunderstand, I...” Paedir paused, swallowing hard. “I have never been so enamoured with someone I’ve just met. You’ve enchanted me, Deimos, in a way I can’t quite describe and I so desperately want to see you again. Alone next time. No chaperoning, no double dates, and certainly no Cazmir and Cadenza.” He returned the blonde’s smile at last. “Just choose a place and I will take you there.”

Deimos’ cheeks flared red as his expression became more timid. “I’d love to,” he said. “No matter how unorthodox it may be. But first, please... will you fuck me, Paedir?” His quivering form sank a little lower onto the soldier’s cock. “I want it so desperately that I can barely stand it.”

Paedir didn’t reply. He merely pulled Deimos into another kiss and flipped them both over, letting the blonde in his arms sink into the pillows as he started to take him for the first time.

[strag-rp-sin]

19. Webcam/Phone Sex

Finally, a moment alone. He slid his phone out of his pocket right as his bedroom door shut and locked behind him. Can you get online? was the single text he’d received an hour ago. Yeah, he replied at last. I’m getting on right now.

The shitty laptop he owned didn’t have a proper desk or chair to use. It was perched on a fold-out table instead, leaving him just enough space to sit on the side of his bed in front of it. That was where he was when the video call started up, the distant look on his face changing to a smile as soon as he caught sight of the person on the other end.

“Hey, Flurry.”

Carnage too was sat on his bed but unlike Snow Dog, he was barely dressed. His boyfriend could just about see the straps of his lingerie peeking out from underneath the skimpy silk dressing gown he had on.

“You look beautiful,” the shifter said.

Carnage’s smile grew and he fluttered his eyelashes. “You really think so?”

“Mmhmm.” Snow Dog paused to lick his lips. “I wish you were here with me... I wanna fuck you so bad I can’t stand it.”

“Me too, Flurry. I even got myself all ready for you. You wanna see?”

His usually lidded eyes went wider as he nodded, leaning forwards to get a better view. With a shrug of his shoulders, Carnage’s dressing gown fell from him completely, revealing the black strappy underwear that clung to his curves. Up onto his knees the zombie went as he turned around and put himself on full display for the camera. Even before his pale fingers pulled his thong out of the way, Flurry could see it: the large plug filling his ass, which he tugged on the base of and slowly started to remove.

Carnage’s sweet moans were too much for him. He could feel himself straining against the front of his jeans, letting out a soft “Fuck” as the widest part of the plug stretched the zombie’s rim before popping out entirely. The tiniest of gapes was left in its place. Snow Dog had never wanted to be inside something so desperately.

“I know we can’t fuck, Flurry,” Carnage said, his hand reaching past the edge of the screen. “But how bout we do the next best thing?” When he pulled his arm back, he had a fat dildo in his grasp, the tip of which he gave a tender kiss. “I got one in just your size.”

The shifter didn’t have to be told twice. He tugged down his zip and let his cock fling free, tilting back so Carnage could get a good look. That display alone had been enough to get him fully hard and he wanted the zombie to know it.

“Do it,” he begged. “Please.”

Carnage smiled a little wider before doing as he was told. His head lowered and his hips raised up, his ass almost filling the screen as he pressed the dildo’s thick tip to his hole. Even with the webcam’s meagre microphone, Flurry could hear him whimpering as it pressed inside. All at once, the tiny twitching hole he’d seen before was stretched open, forced to strain around the plastic cock. How he wished it was him doing it. No matter how hard he gripped his shaft and pumped, nothing ever felt quite like the tight confines of Carnage’s ass.

“P-Promise me you won’t cum, Daddy?” the zombie asked, peeking around his body and into the camera’s lens. “Not until I do.”

That was a hard ask. Carnage always seemed to take forever to cum, no matter how much Flurry teased him beforehand. “I promise,” he said, slowing the hand that was pleasuring himself. “I won’t cum at all unless you say.”

In turn, Carnage’s hand started to pump faster. He gripped the dildo hard and forced it all the way inside, letting out loud and hungry moans as he thrust it in and out of himself. Over and over he did it, fucking his own hole but trying desperately to imagine it was Flurry behind him instead, each of his hands gripping at his hips, his fingers sinking into his soft pale skin.

“I wish... I wish it was you,” he managed to say between his whines of pleasure.

Snow Dog bit his lip, having to still his hand to keep himself from going over. “M-Me too.”

Carnage’s arm was starting to tire as he finally reached the edge. A last few frantic thrusts was all it took for him to let out his loudest moan yet, his whole body clenching and jolting as he started to cum. “C-Cum in me, Daddy.” How Flurry wished he could.

The shifter threw his head back and groaned along, his own cock starting to spurt high into the air. It wasn’t the same, it was never the same, but Carnage was right - this really was the next best thing. It was what Flurry needed if he wanted to get through all this time apart.

“I don’t think I can get by with this just this again,” he said, his voice breathy with his panting. “Next time, we... we gotta fuck for real.”

Carnage chuckled as he turned to face him again, his dildo back in his grasp instead of in his ass. “Oh?” His eyes glittered. “What are you more addicted to now, then? Me or the coke?”

Flurry's brows raised for a moment before he laughed too. “Right now, I’d have to say you,” he said, leaning into the camera with a glassy look in his eyes. “No matter how cheesy that sounds.”

[strag-rp-sin]

18. Pegging

Cazmir was bending over to root through the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet when he felt the hand smack straight into his ass. “Faarkan!” he squeaked. “I’m trying to--!”

“My hands aren’t that big, surely?”

He stood suddenly. Even before he turned on his heel, he knew it was Mirbak behind him, towering over him as she always did.

“No, of course not,” he replied. The Sesharrimian had lived on this ship of thieves for years now and yet still his aristocratic upbringing shone through in his words. “It’s just that I...”

His voice trailed off when he caught sight of it: the huge strap between her legs, bright red and fashioned in the Zhuktor style. His cheeks flushed almost the same colour. The smirk on her lips made it clear that she’d noticed. Each of her hands came up and slammed into his shoulders. He collided with the filing cabinet, trapped against it as she leant in to speak.

“It’s just that you what?”

“N-Nothing!” As tough as he tried to act, Cazmir always got so flustered whenever either Mirbak or Faarkan was close to him.

She moved ever closer, her breath hot against his skin. One of her clawed fingers gently scratched at his neck and he moved his head in turn, revealing a large hickey underneath his jaw. It made the Zhuktor’s brows furrow. “And what’s this?”

She pressed at his bruise and made him whimper. “It’s--”

“Farkaan gave you this, didn’t he?”

Cazmir nodded as fast as he dared.

With a firm grip of his jaw, she forcibly turned his head, forcing him to look up at her. “You know that I like to share, Cazmir,” she said. “But if you and him won’t, then I’ll just have to take you for my own.”

His blush only deepened when she pulled away. Her fingers hooked into his collar and tugged, half-dragging him to his desk and bending him over it. A pile of his papers went flying. It was only when his trousers fell about his ankles that he noticed his office door was wide open, letting him see out into the corridor beyond.

“W-Wait,” he whimpered as he felt the larger of her two plastic cocks press at his entrance. “The door!”

Mirbak raised her head and her eyebrow alike. “What about it?”

“What about...?! It’s open!”

“And?” She laughed long and hard. “This is what you Sesharrimians like, isn’t it? To be seen?”

The tips of Cazmir’s ears turned red but he didn’t argue. Instead he spread his legs a little wider, parting his own cheeks and letting the tip of her strap press into him. She took the invitation immediately. Her hands gripped each of his hips as she rolled her own forwards and thrust deep inside. The only obstacle came in the form of her second cock, which slammed straight into his rim and forced him to stretch around it. As refined as Cazmir was, he still whined like a little bitch whenever that second cock entered him.

“That’s it,” she chuckled, slapping his bare ass cheek. “Let everyone hear what a little slut you are - my slut.”

“Our slut.”

The two of them looked up to find the doorway darkened by Faarkan’s massive shadow. He ducked as he wandered into the room, his tongue licking around his large white lips.

“You’ve already had your fun, Faarkan,” Mirbak said, her annoyance showing both on her face and in the way she rammed into Cazmir’s burning asshole. It wouldn’t be long until she was filling him completely. “Find your own hole to fill.”

The Aagnan didn’t stop until he was stood right before them, towering over them both. “Why should I?” he asked as he grasped Cazmir by the chin and rolled his thumb into his mouth. “There’s a perfectly good hole right here.”

Cazmir obediently sucked on it, letting out little muffled whimpers as Mirbak bottomed out in his ass. It was only when his mouth was empty again that a large moan passed his lips and filled the room.

“See?” Faarkan chuckled. “Our little fucktoy wants it.”

In no time at all, he was being fucked from either end, two large plastic cocks spearing his ass whilst Faarkan’s large pale one entered his mouth. Neither of the pirates was very gentle. They both thrust in and out of him, fast and hard, making him squirm and writhe in their grasp. It was almost embarrassing how quickly his first orgasm came. He never was able to stand it when Mirbak pounded him with her strap. It was with both of her cocks that she fucked the cum out of him, splattering his bright white juices over the side of his desk as he squealed. She didn’t pull out, though - as with all things, the Zhuktor was never satisfied with just the one.

It was nigh impossible for Faarkan to press his cock fully inside him. The snowy alien was just as large between his legs as he was from head to toe and even when he completely filled Cazmir’s sputtering throat, there were still inches of bright white shaft to go. Perhaps, one day, Faarkan might be able to bottom out in him. But until then he’d have to be content with slamming into his mouth only partway, grasping his hair and ramming him over and over.

“Make him cum again,” Faarkan grunted. “His throat vibrates when he does.”

Cazmir’s second orgasm came hard and heavy and it was followed quickly by his third. He had to wonder, as his legs turned to jelly under him, exactly how long this would go on for. Did all the Aagnan take as long to cum as Faarkan did? He really had no idea. Either way, he knew this wouldn’t be over until it happened - even Mirbak wouldn’t still until Faarkan had had his fill.

Finally, after five whole orgasms had been torn from him, he felt Faarkan start to achieve his own. His cock twitched and throbbed in his throat before spurting inside him, filling him with torrents of cum even as he started to slowly pull out. It poured into his mouth almost faster than he could drink it down and, when the massive length finally exited him, a final splash of deep red cum hit him in the face, drawing a surprised groan past his well-used lips. Only then did the strap in his ass pull out of him.

“What a good little whore you are,” Mirbak praised as she slapped his reddened cheeks once more. “You come see us if you want some more.”

But with Cazmir cum-drunk and unable to move, there seemed very little danger of that.

[strag-rp-sin]

17. Orgasm Denial

“You know the rules,” Salus said as he paced around the bed.

Gino whimpered. “Please, I--” He gained a harsh whack to his thigh with the crop in response.

“Did I give you permission to speak, slave?”

The Sesharrimian had to hold back a moan when he shook his head. “No, Master,” he said.

“I’d have hoped that Laertes scum like you would know full well what being a slave entails. You belong to me, slut.” Salus dragged his crop along Gino’s body and up between his legs. “All of you.” Up it went, its tip scraping at the underside of his cock. “Even this pathetic little thing.”

Gino groaned and his face flushed red. He was powerless to move, his hands bound to one end of the bed and his feet at the other, spreading him wide and keeping him vulnerable. The only clothing he’d been permitted to keep, if one could call it that, was his jewellery: the precious stones on his fingers, the hoops through his earlobes, the delicate chain at his neck, and the cock ring between his legs. Like all the others, it was gold and set with gems. Unlike all the others, he desperately wanted to take it off.

“But what did you do, slut, with my property? Hmm?” Salus’ voice remained calm. It was in his cold eyes that his anger was showing. “Answer me, whore.”

Gino could feel the cane digging into his flesh and yet still he rebelled. “Nothing.”

He was hit with another hard thwack. It caught his throbbing shaft and made him scream, howling with pain as he bucked and writhed in his bonds. A reddened welt was left in its place. It stung and it burnt and yet, not despite all that but because of it, a fat globule of pre-cum had formed at his tip, dripping down along his spasming member as he whined.

“Don’t lie to me, Gino,” Salus said. He pressed the cane into him again, ready to strike at more untouched skin. “What did you do?”

Gino’s twitching cock was in agony and yet still he pushed. “Nothing, I told you,” he repeated. “I didn’t even cum so what was the point!”

He expected to feel the crop again. Instead Salus brought his hand to his throat, squeezing hard until he started to choke. “The point is that you tried, slut,” he hissed, leaning in so close that their lips brushed when he spoke. “You tried to cum without my permission--” His fingers tightened. “--again.”

Gino might not have been able to speak but there was still a smirk on his painted lips. Despite it all, he’d kept that self-satisfied look on his face, defying Salus even now. That, more than anything else, was what pissed the Hindranil off the most.

His cock earnt another harsh whack to its underside before Salus’ hand released him, letting him cough and splutter through his pained whimpers. Gino wasn’t sure what he’d expected him to do, but seeing him toss the cane aside and start untying his feet from the bed certainly wasn’t one of them.

“What are you doing?!” he asked, trying to raise his head to see.

Salus didn’t answer him. He merely shrugged out of his trousers, grabbed each of Gino’s thrashing legs and pinned them to his front, retying each of his ankles alongside his wrists. His ass was left on full display. His hole, hungry as ever, twitched even before Salus’ cock lined up against it, hard and ready. Each of his hands worked at spreading his slave’s plump cheeks. With a forceful thrust, he pushed his way inside.

Gino moaned, quivering as he was finally entered. His own cock pulsed between his legs as Salus’ larger one stretched his rim open and slammed in deep. He was never gentle. Gino wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Harder,” he whined. The request earnt him a slap.

He could tell Salus was angry. The way he gripped him, the way he moved him, the way he fucked him... There was something primal about it. About the harsh slaps of skin as he shoved balls deep into him, leaving his ass red and stinging; about the painful burning thrusts that rendered his hole just as sore; and about the fierce look of hatred he gave him the entire time, his pale eyes seeming to burn with an undying flame. It was enough to make Gino cum right then. Or, it was fair to say, it would have been. If only that cruel ring wasn’t fastened so tightly around his cock base.

Gino reached the edge and suddenly started to struggle. His moans became choked in his throat, his half-lidded eyes of pleasure widening as, despite the desperate pre-cum that spurted from his tip, the Sesharrimian’s orgasm was denied from him completely.

“W-Wait!” he cried, another pained noise of unfulfilled pleasure passing his lips. “Wait, take it off!” He tried to thrash and kick, screaming in his frustration. “Take it off, take it off!”

The only response he earnt was the upturned corners of Salus’ lips as he smirked. He’d barely even started to fuck him and already the pathetic little Laertes was begging and crying. To think that just one edge was enough to get him like this... The disobedient bitch had been getting what he wanted for far too long. That was going to end today.

Over and over his cock slammed into him. Did Salus always last this long or was he holding back? Gino couldn’t tell. All he knew was that as soon as that first edge had hit him, they started to come in torrents. Each subsequent one made the next come even faster, tormenting him as his bucking hips tried so desperately to push him over, forced to let another orgasm ebb away. In no time at all, his eyes had filled with tears. Even having his cock whipped wasn’t torture, not compared to this. He relished in the pain, after all. If anything, this would’ve been more bearable if it hurt but it didn’t - it ached. And he knew he’d continue to ache. He’d ache until his need was satisfied.

Salus’ thrusts came harder and heavier as he reached his own brink. But unlike Gino, his orgasm actually came. He tipped over the edge with a moan of pleasure, letting it show in ways he usually didn’t. His head threw back and he groaned, forcing Gino to watch as well as feel that his cum was filling him, coming out in heavenly spurts that sent shivers up his spine. Somehow, knowing Gino wasn’t getting one of his own had only made his orgasm sweeter.

As soon as he was done, he reached out and grabbed the Sesharrimian’s teary face. His fingers dug into Gino’s cheeks as he wrenched his head to look at him. Only then did Salus lean in, his spent cock still deep inside Gino’s spasming hole, as he let the Sesharrimian get a long, hard look at the post-orgasmic bliss in his features.

“This is all life is to you, Gino, isn’t it?” he said. “You’ll do anything, anything at all. Anything to satisfy you, anything to cum... Anything, so long as you get that fucked-up pleasure you desire so much. Well from now on, you jumped up slut, any pleasure you feel will be at my behest. And I’ve already decided you’re not going to cum for a whole week at the least. Understood?”

Gino’s bright blue eyes went wide but, despite the horror on his face, he could feel his cock twitching and leaking anew. Salus was right - he really would do anything. And just thinking of the punishment he might earn for cumming without permission regardless come tomorrow... It was almost enough to make him start smirking anew. “Yes, Master,” he replied obediently at last. “I understand just fine.”

“Good,” Salus said. “Then it’s time this ring of your’s earnt itself an upgrade.”

“What?” Gino’s face paled. “W-Wait, Master, I--”

“Shh,” the Hindranil cooed, taking Gino’s usual self-satisfied smirk for his own. Finally, the cock ring between his legs was being removed... but in its place came a hard metal cage, which pressed onto his denied erection and pinned it firmly down. “Though I have to wonder, Gino... Are you going to suffer in silence when it comes to this predicament you’ve earnt yourself, or are you going to keep going to all those depraved sex parties back home? Do you think you’ll be able to stand it? Being edged by every single cock in the room?”

The question made Gino bite his lip, half in fear and half in arousal. The two of them both knew which option he’d take. Even the humiliation of everyone he knew seeing the cage he’d been forced into wasn’t enough to stop him... If anything, that was what would spur him on. And Salus knew, by the time this week was over, Gino would be begging at his feet. Perhaps finally the little slut might actually learn how to behave.

[strag-rp-sin]

16. Food Play

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

Lux laughed, flashing the whites of his teeth. “I know.” He wrapped the chain of Sparrow’s collar around his hand once more and dragged him ever closer. “But it’s what you deserve. To think that you spent all that time before we met having fun like this, basking in all this endless pain. It’s more than I can stand.” One of his clawed nails hooked around the rim of his sunglasses. A single tug pulled the deep red lenses out of the way, revealing deep red eyes in their place, fiery in their hunger. “So for today, you’ll have to watch.” His boot scraped across the floor as he brought his foot forwards and stepped on Sparrow’s cock, pinning it beneath his metal sole. “Understand?”

Sparrow half-hissed and half-moaned from the pain. “I understand, Master.”

“Good.” He pressed down a little harder before bringing his foot away and turning his attention to their uninvited guest.

A scrawny guy, no older than thirty, was suspended by chains from the ceiling of the secret basement room. He’d been drunk when they’d abducted him from an alley outside a nightclub a few hours ago. He was sober now.

“A pity we couldn’t find one with more meat on it...” Lux reached over, pulling his metal trolley of tools closer. “But it’ll make for good sport.”

At first glance, the tray of tools might’ve looked like it belonged in an operating theatre. It was when one noticed the knives, the drill, the pliers and the saw that its true purpose came to light. Their captive only spied it for a moment when his screaming started anew, his chains rattling as he thrashed and struggled.

The vampire licked his lips. “Someone’s eager. Now, should I start big or small?”

“Small,” Sparrow said, trying to edge closer from where he was bound in his kneeling position. “Go as slow as possible... The last one died too fast.”

A harsh yank on his collar made the metal dig into his skin. “I wasn’t asking you, slave,” Lux spat. “What part of watching wasn’t clear to you?”

He released him only to turn his attention to his tools. A good-sized knife was the one he eventually selected, weighing it in his grasp for a moment before bringing it up to the prisoner’s skin. The tip didn’t have to press far inside before it was drawing blood. Lux caught the drips on his finger as he worked, sucking them off and savouring the taste.

“Delicious.”

The screams above them quickly turned to sobs of anguish. The knife never stopped carving at him, tearing his skin from the muscle and bone beneath it, stripping his stomach of its fleshy layering. Only when the smallest tag of the neat square he’d cut was left did Lux cease. His teeth sank into it. A harsh tug of his head wrenched it from the man proper, drawing bloodcurdling howls from his throat.

“It must be agony,” Sparrow breathed, his arousal clear in his voice. “Sweet agony.”

Lux started to chew. “A bit gamey,” he commented. “What do you think?”

Crouching down, he wrapped his fingers in Sparrow’s hair and yanked, forcing his head up to meet him. The zombie didn’t need to be told what to do. He opened his mouth obediently, accepting the outstretched tongue that pressed inside him, filling him long before Lux’s lips smashed into his own. The half-eaten flesh passed from one mouth to the other, each of them tasting it as they ate it together, tearing the meat between them as each fought to feed on more than the other.

“You’re fucking sick,” their captive managed to say past his sobs. “The two of you, you’re fucking sick!”

Lux finally drew himself back from Sparrow’s mouth, still firmly clasping his hair in his hand as he looked up at their unwilling meal. “Yes,” he said, with a cruel and bloody grin. “We are.”