A Servant of Arubhár 04

Feeling the tightness clench down on his cockhead, he thrust his hips forward. The woman gasped at the sudden intrusion, stretched wide around a pulsing shaft once more. Then settled down against the cushions, and braced herself for the rut.

Immediately, the bull began to pound her with short, hard thrusts. Anári imagined the style would provide the most stimulation to the tight ring of his sheath. His knot grew larger with every passing minute, opening the woman's sensitive muscles with more and more force. She howled out her pain and her pleasure, arching her back to meet him stroke for stroke.

Nearing her own release as his knot swelled even further, the whore dug her fingers into his upper thighs, urged him to thrust harder, faster. He needed no encouragement as he increased the force of his strokes. They came more jerkily now, less smooth, as the thickening knot encountered more and more resistance from the woman's battered rings.

For his last few thrusts, he had to slow way down, the knot almost too inflated to continue. He managed to break it through her resisting muscles one last time with a brutal shove. Then his knot expanded another few inches all at once, and he was securely tied. It didn't stop him from trying to free himself. The woman followed his flanks with every move.

Finally, he surrendered, and his whole body relaxed. The woman's head flew back, moans streaming from her lips. Then she screamed out her pleasure when his flanks contracted violently. Grunting, dancing from foot to foot, the bull shot his first stream of seed into the woman's bowels from his wildly flowering cockhead. His hips surged forward uncontrollably, shoving his knot even further into the woman's convulsing ass.

Cresting her own peak, the tights rings of the woman's ass squeezed his knot like a fluttering vise, causing him to try to rear away from the pressure. Her muscles bulged out, threatening to give under the strain, but the egg-shaped T effectively blocked his escape. He took a step backwards, pulling, pulling on those wide-stretched inner rings, then thrust back forward, forcing her into another brutal release.

The whore tried to move with him, but her legs were trembling. Squealing, she did her best to relax her ass, knowing only the easing of pressure would stop his flow of seed. Finally, she managed to loosen up enough to where her rings no more than massaged the steel hard knot keeping her stretched incredibly wide. Still grunting harshly, he calmed back down, allowed her to settle back against the wagon.

Wide-eyed Anári stared at the scene, almost ready to flood the bench with a stream of release of her own. Then she noted Maive winking at her as she stepped up to the bull. Apparently, this breed of troll was a more playful sort, she realized when she saw Maive run her hands over his heaving chest, down his washboard stomach. And wondered if he was Verruk, her owner.

She certainly seemed to know him well, was comfortable intruding on his rut. Teasingly, she flicked his nipple with her finger, then suckled it into her mouth. He rewarded her with a grunt and a nod of his head. Then pushed her mouth away. Unperturbed, she slid her fingertips over his flank, then his butt.

Anári held her breath when Maive cupped his full, heavy balls with her hand, massaged them. Then it rushed out of her lungs as Maive began to tightened her fingers. Harder and harder she squeezed the tight orbs, rolling them in her palm. The bull let out a few more grunts and his hips bucked in response.

She released the pressure long enough to pull them down toward the ground. Then her hand wrapped back around his balls, this time squeezing with brutal pressure. The troll grunted, jerked his flanks up and away from her. But he settled right back down, so Maive repeated the process.

Spreading his seed that spilled out of the woman's ass over his balls, she returned to massaging him. Then, suddenly, she tightened her hand around his sensitive orbs like a vise, flicking her thumb over one, then the other with hard force.

His groin contracted and relaxed, then went into another spasm. Then his hips shoved forward, and the whore let out another pained wail. The muscles of his ass and flanks quivered as his cockhead burst into flower once more. Moving with him, but still squeezing firmly, Maive forced him into another strong release.

When he tried to yank out of the woman's ass, Maive released her grip, put her hands on his butt cheeks to hold him in place. "Easy," Anári heard her coo into his ear. "You wouldn't want to hurt yourself."

Chuckling when the whore he was tied to shot her a dirty look, Maive slid her palms over his back, urging him to relax. "He happens to be very dear to me," she addressed the woman, and rested her head between his shoulder blades.

The affection Maive held for the troll gave Anári pause. There had to be more than just sex between the two, for her to act that way. She knew him well when it came to his pleasure, that was obvious. But there seemed to be an intimacy there that was startling to observe. The troll had grabbed Maive's hand and was settling it around his waist.

Then he used his other hand to give the whore's butt a smarting smack. "Tighten down around that knot. Unless you want me tied to your ass all night."

She instantly complied, and his nostrils started flaring. Knowing he would like it, she even ground her teeth and began to rock her hips back and forth. With Maive still resting her face against his back, her hand gently caressing his stomach, he closed his eyes and simply enjoyed the women's attention.

It took a few more minutes of effort, but the whore brought him to the next release. The trembling started in his lower back, spread to his ass, then his flanks. Smoothly, Maive slipped behind him, pressed her naked loin against his butt. A moment later, his muscles convulsed with the tell-tale contractions that proved he was spilling his seed. Maive rode the waves of pleasure with him, ran her hands over the spasms in his flanks. When he began to try yanking his cock out of the woman again, she coaxed him back into relaxing.

"You should be grateful I am calming him," Maive hissed when the whore threw her another dirty look. "You don't want to know what would happen if he managed to rip free of you. He's strong enough, and he's done it before. And, trust me, it wasn't pretty."

Stepping away from them, Maive filled a glass with water from a pitcher, handed it to him. Still firmly tied, he emptied it, then his lips turned up in a smile. And, to Anári's shock, his hand came up to cup the back of Maive's head while his mouth bent down to meet hers.

Why the sight was so incredibly erotic, Anári couldn't tell. But there was something stunningly arousing about the way his cock was tightly locked inside of another woman while his tongue danced in his obviously favorite's mouth.

Drawing back, Maive gave him a look from under lowered lashes that spoke of complete submission. Then smiled at him affectionately, and took the glass out of his hands. Setting it down, she returned to the pair, began to slide her hand over his butt once more.

"You better hold still," she warned the woman, and moved to his other cheek.

Gathering more of his spilled seed as well as some of the woman's natural moisture, Maive trailed a finger over his crack, then dipped it between his cheeks. He tensed, gave a warning grunt, but she only chuckled. Repeating the process, she paused longer this time, applying gentle pressure to his rosebud. He grunted out another warning, but she kept her finger in place, waited for him to relax.

When his muscles untightened, she pressed a kiss to his wide shoulder. Then, suddenly, pushed her finger deep into his ass. His whole body jerked, and his hand shot back to grab her other wrist. Pulling it up, he threatened to snap it, and she met his heated gaze.

Anári watched, frozen in place, uncertain if he wouldn't strike her.

Slowly, carefully, Maive placed a gentle kiss on his upper arm, her finger still and quiet, yet firmly in his ass. Anári admired her braveness. She, herself, would have crouched in fear when his temper threatened to snap. Heck, she would have never attempted such a brazen thing to begin with.

With a rumbling growl, he released Maive's wrist, almost flinging it away. And slowly focused his angry gaze back on the woman he was tied to. His chest heaved with long, deep breaths, then he bent forward. Bracing a hand on each side of the woman, he let his body relax and gave a curt nod meant for Maive.

Smiling, she carefully, carefully began to slide her slickened finger in and out. Waited when the muscles of his ass tensed and tightened, then moved again. Turning her wrist, she applied pressure to the spot inside of him that was certain to bring on his release. She grew bolder as he became more used to the invasion, increasing both pressure and speed.

She saw his gorgeous shoulders rise and fall as his breathing deepened, as her finger slid in and out of his tightly clenching rings, faster and harder. Once she felt his inner muscles relaxing, she withdrew, dipped back down to gather more moisture. Then she returned, pressing first one, then a second finger through his protesting rings.

He grunted, tensed, but didn't order her to stop. The quivering she felt inside his body told her he was nearing his release. This time, she turned her wrist immediately, found the swollen gland. Instead of gliding in and out, she pressed down forcefully, only rocked her fingers back and forth. It would provide the most intense stimulation to the gland as well as the tight rings of his ass.

Mesmerized, Anári felt herself cresting one little peak after the next. That such a proud male would allow such an intrusion spoke of a volume of trust. True, Maive made it clear she was submissive to him. Still, the things he let her do to him even before her finger's invasion proved his own submission to the slim, pretty girl.

Soon, his guttural grunts rang loud through the night. His flanks contracted, then released, contracted, then released. His cockhead flared, then flowered as he hovered, hovered at the edge of release. The whore's mouth hung open as she shuddered, trembled, then crested another peak. The muscles of her ass tightened in brutal spasms around his knot, driving him near wild.

He jerked his hips backward, shoved forward again. And still, his hugely flowering head would not release. Nerves fired in his sensitive knot, sending sharp sparks throughout his body. Unable to free himself, he damn near howled in frustration at the continued assault.

Knowing he would need it, Maive thrust her fingers through his rings. Once, twice. Rough and fast. When she felt his whole core tensing, she focused just on the gland again, pressed down with as much force as she could muster.

Suddenly, his body froze. And, for a moment, he was deadly silent. Then a roar of pure triumph thundered from his throat, and his hips rose, then bunched. And thrust forward.

Afraid he would snap her fingers with the force of his release, Maive pulled them free, watched his magnificent body power through the seeding. Then she reached up, wrapped her hand around his tightly drawn-up balls, and began to squeeze them.

Grunt after bellowing grunt echoed from the strong column of his throat as his shaft jerked wildly inside the woman. Maive knew the whore could feel every throb, every pump, as his seed rushed through her rings and deep into her bowels.

When he clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles tensing, Maive realized his release had gotten painful. But he forced himself to fight his urge to yank his knot out, fearing he might hurt his precious woman. Her arm was still between his thighs, fingers firmly wrapped around his balls. One uncontrolled movement, and he might break them. She gave him one, final, brutal squeeze, knowing the pain would shorten the time before he could pull free.

Then released his balls, stepped to his side. Gently, she traced her palm over his heaving flanks, then up to cup his jaw. Wound tight as a bowstring, he was unable to do more than turn his eyes to her in response. Only the fact that she was standing close to him prevented him from yanking free.

Maive pressed her luck, planted loving little kisses on his shoulder, his arm. Marveled at the fact that he'd endure any discomfort in order to keep her safe. She knew the nerves of his knot were firing angrily without pause, the feeling near unbearable. Knew he was desperate to escape the pressure. Yet he stood perfectly still.

When the quivering in his muscles became too strong, he gave her another warning growl. This time, she heeded his warning, stepped back. Not a second later, his hips began to jerk—roughly, violently, fueled by the firing nerves inside his knot. Used to the routine, the whore dug her fingers into his ass, matched his every move.

Still, much sooner than she was prepared for, his knot tore out of her. Gasping, she sunk to her knees, and Maive bent down to steady her. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold him any longer."

Yanking her arm out of Maive's grip, the woman hissed at her. "It's your fault he released that forcefully to begin with."

"Tsk, tsk." Maive shook her head. "He's usually much more violent. And if it wasn't for me, you would have found yourself properly knotted for at least three hours or more." Rising, she blew out a huff of annoyance. "I honestly don't know what you're complaining about. You thoroughly enjoy the rut, and are handsomely rewarded for your efforts. You might try being a little bit grateful."

Dismissing the whore, Maive went to refill the glass of water. Then joined Verruk where he had seated himself on a bench. He took it, thanked her. Then pulled her into his lap. Eyes sparking with delight, Maive watched him drain it, set it down. And sank into the kiss when his mouth came down to meet hers. She enjoyed every moan, every grunt as he finally found his pleasure. Circling her fingers around the entrance to his sheath, she gently pulled his shaft up and down, further aiding his bliss.

Breathless, heart pounding in her chest, Anári could only stare at the couple. She pinched her arm, fearing she would wake from an explicit dream at any moment. When she blinked, saw the two of them still there, she knew she wasn't dreaming.

Relaxed and sated, the bull rode on the waves of pleasure. His hands brushed gently over Maive's shoulders, her back, her thighs. His mouth stayed fused to hers, stopping only briefly now and then to let out another blissful grunt. Even then, his forehead rested against hers affectionately.

Deciding to give them some privacy—well, at least from her company, since the rest of the trolls were still around—Anári rose, waited for her legs to steady. The woman he'd been rutting with was lounging in another cart, sipping some wine, and enjoying the grapes and cheeses. It appeared she was no worse for the wear, and Anári let out a breath.

For a while there, she had worried the woman might tear, after all. But the bulls were obviously well aware of a human's limitations, and careful not to do any harm. Satisfied that all was well, and rather exhausted from all the excitement, she made her way back to her wagon.

With all the sounds of pleasure still surrounding her, and everything she'd seen, Anári knew she'd have no problems finding her own release tonight.