“God’s forbid I get a break, eh?” Nikolo growled to himself, his face red and breaths labored. Blood ran down towards his head, his vision still blurred from the sudden shock of being pulled up violently by the snare trap binding his legs together. Prince Nikolo was not always the filth laden wretch hanging like bait he’d become. There was a time his name was met with great admiration, if not, at least insincere reverence. He was the eldest son of the Bartolome dynasty. A line that withstood centuries of rule in the kingdom of Carsollan. Few rulers could claim such success in the wildest nation in the land of Adam. Many more however could attest to their shared avarice in the age of peace that spread across the continent. For the first time in over a thousand years, the five great nations spilled no blood against each other. Enjoying a period of unified hate. Indeed, while the man, the elf and the dwarf held hands in song, it was a war song against the orcs, satyrs and their kin that called the untamed wilds home. The catalyst of this union was a revolution, and revolution would spread as well. It revealed the cruelty of house Bartolome. Their greed and excess in the absence of their former proud and generous patriarchs came to light. Thus, as rebels overwhelmed the guards and stormed the palace grounds, the prince escaped. Leaving behind his family, fearing only for his life.
While every Carsolla could boast a deceptively powerful network of muscles, Nikolo was exceptional in this case. He was lean and tall, and despite his recent decline, his strength was pure. His skills with a sword, dagger and pistole too were exceptional, emphasis heavily on “were”. One could expect nothing less from the prince of the kingdom that threatened to bring all others to their knees. Unfortunately, like the rest of his family, he’d given himself over to the vices of sloth and lust. His body grew softer, especially towards the hips that cursed him with a feminine shape and no shortage of teasing from his peers. His tan skin was smooth and tight, almost without blemish due to the lack of true combat. His white hair had grown long and flowing, unbefitting for a warrior specializing in close quarters combat. Without a weapon, he proved more fearful, not that this would halt his rather uncouth mouth, nor did his lack of experience give him pause in abusing those that served him. No matter how filthy or degrading his desires were.
Leaving the castle in haste afforded the prince only to carry a single short blade that clung to his hip, as well as his rather expensively tailored cloak and leather armor more suited to ceremony than the ravages of the wilds. The blade had fallen out of reach when he was pulled into the air. He was awoken from a fitful slumber by the sound of hounds. At first, he feared wolves, but as he heard slurred and guttural commands in the distance, he realized that it was something far worse. An orc. Revolutionaries out for blood were one thing. Orcs were another. Taller and larger they stood over the average soldier, and with great delight they enjoyed their prey. With the tales told by those that did the fighting still in mind, Nikolo ran without caution, hoping his this would afford great distance like an alerted stag. The results were the same, however. The hunters had found him. Upon his latest failure, a craggy voice like thunder spoke, “Ah, human. Me thanks for you waitin’.” It spoke the fowl tongue of the orcs Nikolo just barely followed. Inertia turned him slowly towards his captor.
The orc stood a good foot and a half over the prince had he been standing level. The monster’s body robust like a boulder, round but strong. Draped in hides and crudely tempered metal over his gut, he approached the struggling man. The green skin was murky like swamp water, and his yellow teeth showed in the lantern light hanging from his belt. As did burning amber eyes. “Leave me be, creature, I’ve no quarrel with you.” Nikolo finally spoke, his blue eyes wide with shock and barely restrained panic. His lips curling in a sneer. Another voice came from behind him, “Grolar, I think he’s over here!” Another orc appeared through the wood, a bit shorter than the other and just as shapely. Followed close behind were a pack of large gray wolves, and on his shoulder was a goblin that slapped the back of his bald head, “Damn! I tell you, Gruz, old man was right! You stupid!” The diminutive creature berated the larger one while the wolves circled and snarled at the human being examined as a slab of meat by the elder orc. “Fuck! I command you release me, or be struck down like the verm-“ Nikolo tried to shout down his latest foe, but in a single rough move, he was grabbed and pulled towards his examiner. The younger man’s face being buried in unwashed furs that hid the elephantine member of the orc. His mouth was stuffed with mud caked hair and his nose was assailed by the thick musk of an unkempt warrior. All while the Orc known as Grolar the Breaker used his large and callous hands to examine the frame of their latest catch.
Immediately, his eyes were able to deduce the nature of this form, “Gruz, Zaal. Too thin.” This steered the other two hunters from their debate and back towards their catch. Specifically, towards the thick, rootlike fingers that kneaded the round and supple rear of the prince. Grolar chuckled, demonstrating how soft the flesh was by sinking his fingers to the limit. “Too thin to eat.” The elder clarified with great mirth in his words. Gruz and Zaal looked at each other before returning wicked smirks towards the pair. Nikolo swatted fruitlessly at the powerful thighs of the old orc, who paid little mind as his cracked and ragged nails tore through the thin leather and revealed the tan and perfect posterior that once sat on the royal throne. The rush of cold autumn air made Nikolo gasp in more of the pungent musk that threatened to choke him, and his struggle became ever more panicked. Gruz came closer to inspect the royal ass, pinching one of the ample cheeks between his thumb and forefinger while Zaal simply laid a harsh smack to its untarnished and smooth surface. “Like a woman!” the snaggle toothed goblin cheered as he laid another smack. Both caused the Prince to growl and whine from his furry tomb. His smothered breaths and attempts to bite only encouraging the growth of a monster just barely restrained.
The trio of wicked hunters marveled at the sight, Grolar peeling more and more of the leather away to reveal the prince’s most private regions. An impressive cock fell out, but to the brigands, it was useless, save for the hint of stiffness in its shape. Grolar laughed further, “Look at ‘im, getting ‘ard already!” He pulled his crotch away from Nikolo’s face, allowing the escapee to breath untainted air that never tasted sweeter. “You bastards!” This respite was only temporary, even the untested prince knew this from experience. An experience gained from the abuse of his authority. “I’ll kill you all if you persist! Nay, you’ll only make my vengeance a hundred fold worse when I am freed! I am lord commander of the Carsollan legion!” the human’s words were met only with more raucous laughter as Zaal dismounted Gruz’s shoulders, using the fair legs of Nikolo to support the transition, he leapt onto the hanging man. His wiry legs wrapping around the midsection, and a thick bulge pressing against the man’s back, “Even better! Soldier pussy always trained!” The odious louse proclaimed as he used his small hands to pry the cheeks apart. Revealing a gloriously smooth brown star, with only the fairest of fair hair surrounding it as if to point out a target. It was clenched tightly in fear and embarrassment, pulsing unertainly. “Get away from there, wretch! Or I’ll have your skull as my toilet!” Shouted the prince. “Look! Too tight! Not soldier!” mocked the little blue creature that drooled over the forbidden entrance. “Your kind are always little loose,” Gruz gestured with his hands. “Solders fuck, get fucked,” Grolar added as he undid a thick leather strap, “and a leada must be VERY loose.” Pulling a thick knot apart, the trappings of fur lining fell from leader’s waist. Revealing the feared cock of an orcish war chief. As thick as a man’s wrist and longer than a foot, it proved his dominance over all others. Dark veins ran over its length, pulsing and throbbing as it swayed. Pointing straight down with a tapering head encased in foreskin. Nikolo’s eyes and protests grew wilder, “What do you mean? Cease this dae-“ before he could finish, he felt as if lightning had struck him, as his body seized and he wailed like a specter. His most sensitive region had been penetrated, deep, by the long snake like tongue of the goblin hunter. It forced its way deep inside as if boring for treasure. A cruel and satisfied smile on the runt’s lips as he pushed and pulled his tongue back and forth, his face squished reflexively between the thighs of the prince, whose cock spasmed and balls clenched from the sudden assault. The goblin grinding it’s filthy cock against the prince as the victim let out a strange bleating moan between curses and gasps.
“Zaal, why do you do that? The arse is no place for a tongue. Yet Ya so picky over food.” Gruz scoffed as he watched, moving beside Nikolo to present the third player of this devilish game. Grolar laughed as he moved closer too, shaking his head as he spoke, “Ya best take heed, Golet may enjoy it.” Gruz’s cock was as thick as Grolar’s but not as long. It laid against the man’s face, reeking of sweat and old jizzum, as well as that previous musk now completely unrestrained. The prince gagged and again tried to shew away the beast. Aiming for the massive globes that rivaled Grolar’s. Both orcs simply grabbed his wrists and held them apart, placing both monstrous members directly into the face of human royalty. Gruz proved impatient, grabbing the prince by his long hair and pulling up to drive the bulbous head past the pink lips that cried for this nightmare to cease. Nikolo couldn’t even muster the ability to bite. The thick head filled his mouth, the acrid taste of past hunts coating his mouth along with the thick and salty precum dribbling from the head. He gagged hard as Gruz tried to force more inside, “That’s it, meat.” Suddenly he was shoved ferociously by the elder, “Ya forget yourself scrot, the boss goes first.” The chief roared with a voice of great bass and authority. Nikolo was retching and coughing, still feeling the goblin defile his ass in such an unspeakable manner. His own human cock fully erect. At this, Grolar smiled, sneering he said, “Well well, the sleeve agrees.” Nikolo was spitting towards the ground when he suddenly felt those gruff hands on him again. They lifted him up a bit more, aligning his pleasing lips with that horrid member that oozed virile orc seed. “No! Stop!” the prince screamed in terror, trying to force the enclosing spear away, his hands pushing against the strong thighs to no avail. He screamed desperately for help, but that too proved futile. With one mighty push, Nikolo was force fed more than half of that diabolical rod.
Everything went white in the eyes of Nikolo. Vision had gone and a part of him hoped that he had simply died from the shock. The end would not come that easily however. He could still taste it. Hot sweat, the earthy burn of filth, and the salty spray that overwhelmed those humans that found themselves trapped by an orc. He could feel the bulging of his throat that strained to withstand the constant scraping of orc hide that delved ever deeper. His reflex to gag only grew harsher and harsher and the absolute volume blocking his windpipe made breathing as difficult as sword play to the untrained. The white light in his vision grew dimmer, then dark. It began to pulse, pulse from the impact of the chiefs scrotum smashing against those luminous blue eyes like iron waves. Grolar roared with excitement and pleasure, having never found a more succulent throat to fuck before. No beast, man-folk or even orc compared. Adding to this the pathetic whimpers and retching from his prey in the moonlight only made the chief more violent with it. Taking long pauses whenever those feeble lips touched the hairy base of his cock, as if intent on snuffing the human out completely in a state of utter humiliation. “By Boeth, the bitch can suck! She’s gonna drain me befor’ I even break her in!” The chief moaned as Nikolo went limp bellow him, his face a mess of gooey slobber that rolled like lava from the mountains of Hel. His eyes rolling back into his from the suffocation and upside down position. But the chief kept going. Pounding the pride out of the prince, inch by inch. Bruising his face with the force of his balls. Growing closer to fully erupting with the indescribable ferocity of an alpha male orc after what felt as ages. But just before repainting the insides of this royal sleeve, his movements growing uneven and his cock throbbing with the pulse of his wild heart, he suddenly pulled away. “Oi, that was close!” The chief hissed as his entire body seemed to have clenched entirely to restrain the burden of his load. “Gettin’ cold feet old pop? That’s pretty fast.” Gruz teased from his side of the fuck meat. Grolar bared his teeth in insult, “No, nitwit, I’m gonna breed the bitch!” Grolar grabbed the rugged axe laying with his belt and Gruz sprang to pry Zaal from his stupor. The goblin lost in exploring the unexplored man hole that sucked so well on his tongue, was lost to the sudden release of Nikolo, the royal jewels polished to an almost mirror sheen as they popped out from his greasy lips. Before Zaal could protest, Nikolo was sent plummeting back to the muddy earth.
Nikolo was a breathless mess, but what warrior instincts that laid dormant within sprang forth as he collided with the ground. Landing atop his sword, he drew it in a wild slash, screaming with a hoarse voice an unintelligible threat. This unpolished attack of course missed, earning him not but a harsh smack that sent him plummeting to the ground again. Before he could even think to get up and run, he was shoved down into the mud further. His kicking legs spread, and ass raised as he called weakly for aid. But aid would not come, instead, only another hard smack. This time however, it was the weighty meat of Gruz. “I didn’t even get my turn! Pretty rude for a whore.” His tone dripped with contempt for a species that claimed supreme authority over all creation. Now, the prince’s only authority would be the cum lain in his belly. “Fuck you!” Nikolo spat, literally, earning a callous smile from Gruz, “I’m goin’ I’m goin’, girl.” And go he did, shoving the entirety of his weeping member into the sore jaws of Nikolo, who’s screams only made wondrous vibrations around the shaft. His lashing tongue lathering its underside beautifully as Gruz realized just what the chief meant, “Fuckin’ el! She’s a natural!” He couldn’t stop himself from pillaging the poor man’s throat like it was virgin cunt. Especially with the wet and sloppy sounds that filled the air, joining the chorus of snarling moans from Gruz’s trembling lips. Nikolo closed his eyes, but a smack made him open them at Gruz’s command, “Look at me slut! I wanna watch you choke on this orc meat. You all fuckin’ love it.” The younger orc laughed madly as he used his thumbs to keep those blue orbs on his as he raped the man’s throat.
Grolar was behind the prince, one hand at the base of the human’s spine and pressing down to create an arch. “That’s roight, make love to that dick, girlie.” They loved having such a weak-willed sleeve. They didn’t know anything of revolutions or shitty behavior behind closed doors. They were simply stronger and hornier. That was enough for them. Nikolo flinched at every smack, his gag reflex starting to fade like it was being fucked out of him. “Girlie?” he was a man! Yet they treated him like one of the slaves he kept. He was royalty, yet the more they abused him, the more he felt like a commoner harlot. His mind was being scrambled, figuratively and literally from the force of the face fucking he was receiving. Soon, his throat simply surrendered and relaxed and he no longer pushed or fought back. At this reveal, Grolar spanked his ass hard, “Good girl.” It was time to make the transition complete. Looking down at that small winking star, still shiny from Zaal’s spit, the orc lifted the tip of his freshly polished cock and pushed.
It wasn’t the taste of crusty cum that would stick with Nikolo after this, nor the words. It would be this intense pressure, the last of his resistance failing, trying to close out the orc chief’s tip. Tharp, very intense pain that rang throughout his body, making him shriek around Gruz’s cock. The older orc let out a triumphant sigh, slowing his descent so Nikolo would feel every centimeter of superior orc cock grind past his walls. Stretching that virgin asshole into an orc pussy that clung tightly when he decided to pull back. Gruz cheered for the popping of the cherry, balls deep in Nikolo’s throat as the human trembled and cried. The pain and strain was too much, but what was worse came after a variable eternity of harshly sensual drilling. After the pain of a few deepening strokes, there was a scarily satisfying feeling. A sensation of fullness that came, and a jolt as if there were a button to be pressed that sent wonderful sensations to reward the pain. Nikolo was no student of non-lethal anatomy. Unknown to him, the chief had found his prostate, and was about to show the prince just what it could do. After letting himself get adjusted to a velvety tightness that squeezed him like a heavenly vice, Grolar grabbed the man’s hips and delivered the entire length in one powerful thrust. Breaking the trance with a violent pain and sublime pleasure. Nikolo, shrieking like a bitch in heat and being used by savage orcs like the slut they only dreamed of, came shamefully against the dirt. Zaal loved hearing the human scream-or at least try to-and when the chief started railing away at the prince like a cheap and well travelled whore, he delivered a message directly into the man’s ear along with his tongue, “Ours.”
Grolar held nothing back, even lifting Nikolo up and into every thrust, especially as the unexpectedly forced orgasm only made that greedy pussy clench tighter around the elephantine cock currently reshaping it, the shape of his cock outlined by the flesh of the prince’s stomach from its depth. The comparatively pathetic lake of cum Nikolo was mocked by the two hunters as they sawed back and forth with ruthless aggression, “She squirted!” Gruz hollered as he felt himself edging closer to oblivion with every second in that amazing throat. Grolar was called the breaker for a reason, that reason being this. Reducing men and women to useless fuck sleeves for the fae folk they seemed bent on destroying. It warmed his heart to see the pathetic prince surrender and bounce on two orcish cocks. His balls pulverized Nikolo’s, practically bruising them like his ass was, the chief’s hips hammering away as if to compress the prince like a diamond. Zaal using the prince’s right hand to jerk himself off with, and even managing to shove the thinner, longer member in alongside Gruz’s. The trio were all getting closer, and Nikolo was preparing to pass out. His eyes fluttering and brain dead from the onslaught of confusing sensations. From the taste of orc cum, to the boring out of his tight, perfect asshole. He was defeated, and surrendered wholly to his new masters.
With a few final, primal grunts, Gruz gave up trying to outlast his elder. He couldn’t resist the tightness and warmth of this human throat pussy. “I’m gonna…” throwing his head back, the younger orc shot his load. A thick and rich concoction of orc seed that coated every surface and slid directly into the human’s stomach. The flow lasted for minutes of roaring and shivering. Seed dripping from the sides of Nikolo’s mouth and out his nose as his teary eyes simply fluttered mindlessly. Grolar pounded Nikolo into the dirt with the proudest smile he could muster, “Not that easy is it?” Gruz was still cumming and was thusly unable to respond through the immense pleasure. Orcs didn’t cum often, but came a lot. With that smile and gritted teeth, Grolar decided he too was too close to save himself any time or pride. This human pussy was simply too good. So tight and hungry, it would be the perfect breeding hole. His roar rang through the air like a storm had broken, and with one final savage thrust began shooting white hot ropes of thick cum directly into the deepest reaches most men could only dream of. The load surging forth like a tidal wave. If Nikolo made a lake in the mud. This was an ocean. Completely filling the formerly proud prince to the point that the seed began leaking out around Grolar’s unwashed cock. His belly growing fuller with the weight of an alpha male’s essence. Zaal, never one to be left out, simply came across the man’s face as a final act of humiliation. After minutes straight of climax, and resting their sensitive rods within their spitroasted fuck pig, the male orcs withdrew. If Nikolo were conscious, he may have enjoyed such a small comfort as breathing freely. Gruz’s dick dripping the last of its contents across the twitching cumstained face of their conquest. As it stood, Nikolo was simply gurgling half words and babble with a blank expression bathed in red. Grolar exited with a pop. The prince’s ass completely red and his asshole gaped wide like the pussy it had become. Puffy from the strain and impact. The retreat allowed the deluge of Orc cum that addicted so many to spill forth. The two panted and smiled, speaking of what to do with their newest conquest. That’s when Zaal spoke up. Clearing his throat, he simply said, “I have an offer, lord Grolar the Breaker,” With as professionally human a voice as his scratchy throat could muster.
The talks were tense, as the orcs weren’t willing to part with such a toy so easily. That was until they were told the price. Goblins horde many things, and before the troubles of recent, were renowned traders in many cities. So a highly valuable and enchanted relic or two were no harder to find in their eyes than water in a stream. With the deal struck, Nikolo was hefted over Grolar’s shoulder limply and delivered to the cave that housed the Redwood Goblin clan. The clan to which Zaal served as lead scout. He looked for many things, from riches to territory and even prime breeding stock. And no finer had he found as in Nikolo. On a bed of greedy hands, Nikolo would disappear into the darkness of the cave. Where he would soon awake to find out just how bad rock bottom can get. Mayhaps he will learn even more about himself in this new prison. In his sleep however, a slumbering beast stirs to life. Will he escape? Surrender again? Will he like it either way? Only time will tell.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/yt2mpz/the_first_try_or_princely_cumuppance_high