Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 17

Her lips landed on his chest and kissed down the same path her hand had taken. That shaft was treated to her eager licks and laps, the princess hungry for the taste all over it, the sweetness of her own cream dappling every inch. Below hung those fat testicles, also coated with her cream.

The suckling of her lips on his balls filled the hut along with his groans. He reached down to pet at her hair, while one of her hands reached down to tease along her slit, more of that gooey load oozing forth. The mingled flavor of his ripe sacks and her sticky ambrosia was a treat, and along with it came his musk, the robust scent clogging her nostrils.

His shaft grew as she slurped all over his testicles. It easily won her attention even before reaching its full size. She sucked harder at her mouthful, dribbles of saliva streaming from her lips and trickling down over his taint.

The allure of his fully erect shaft proved too much for her to resist. After an affectionate kiss to those crinkled sacks, she moved to it, nuzzling against its warm firmness, appreciating how it throbbed against her cheek. Three of her fingers slipped through her stretched slit and found more escaping semen.

She lapped at his shaft, running her tongue all over. His hand was still petting at her hair, the chieftain lying back contentedly, watching her with a slight smile.

His shaft was left crisscrossed with trails of saliva. With every inch thoroughly tasted, she closed her lips around the head, and shoved them down, taking almost half of him in one go. His hips bucked, giving her a few more inches. A low growl came from him, the sound making her quiver, her fingers curling inside her quim, squelching through the copious seed.

Another downward shove, and every inch of him was nestled in her mouth and throat. He snarled, his hand pressing on her head. A gurgle spilled out around the mass of meat in her gullet. Her eyes flickered up to his face, drinking in the lust that had taken it over.

One of the many discoveries she had made recently regarding her sexual proclivities involved asphyxiation. Whether it was a hand closed on her throat, a length of rope or leather or silk tied around her neck, or a throbbing member filling her gullet, she found such wicked pleasure in feeling the air dissipate in her lungs until her head was left muddled, the darkness of unconsciousness creeping in, her body trembling and twitching as it interpreted the lack of breath as oncoming suffocation. Potent thrills always came with such misery.

So, she kept her throat skewered on him when his hand left her head, granting her the chance to come off. A grunt of satisfaction came from him at the tightness of her choking around him. More saliva flowed from her lips, adding to the gleaming mess on his balls and taint.

The air dissipated slowly as usual. She did not budge. Her fingers worked steadily inside her, adding to the already building pleasure, while her other hand was splayed on the chieftain's stomach, his abs clenching from his shuddering.

That familiar darkness crept in now, those potent thrills arriving as well. Concern replaced lustfulness for Kunja as he chuffed questioningly at her. She only looked up at him, placid and peaceful amid her asphyxiation, swooning as her body began to react, squirming rebelliously.

She finally came off him, gasping and wheezing, the former due to those potent thrills, the latter due to the lack of air. The hand that had been at her head returned there, brushing over her sweat-licked forehead. Another chuff came from him, sounding almost reproachful.

"I'm okay," she told him gently, "I know what I'm doing."

The effort to suck down air was abandoned so that she could suck instead at those nearby testicles. Concern became bemusement, a chuckle following the reproachful chuff.

As she gazed up at him, his bemusement circled back around to lust, and soon, he yanked her off those testicles. She moaned whorishly as he rose onto his knees, the sight of such a massive figure looming over her so intoxicating. Gathering a handful of her hair, he spun her around to face away from him, and gave her a little push. That little push was enough to send her sprawling forwards, but she adjusted, coming back up onto her hands and knees. He took her by the hips, and then a hard warmth nudged into her sex, that slight pressure forcing out more spent seed.

This time, he went slowly.

The head of that length slid through her slit. The channel beyond clutched at it, but he did not move right away, instead luxuriating in that sensation. She whined but stayed still and silent otherwise.

The next inch came after a painfully long time.

Maybe ten or so seconds, but it seemed like so much longer than that...

Bit by patient bit, her channel was opened back up, the passage of that meat forcing out yet more spent semen, the gooey flood staining his cock, her thighs, and the pallet underneath them. At the halfway mark, an orgasm struck her, but not even her ecstatic spasms or soft cries could deter him from the slow, steady progress.

That progress was torture, but much like anything else done to her, Gwennalyn weathered it, her whines only instinctive expressions of need, no other complaints offered.

The next inch slid through her slit, by now all but a few inches stretching her out. Another orgasm was close by, the escaping semen mingling with her abundant ambrosia. Her head hung down, the long, blonde tresses of her hair blocking her vision. There was occasionally a desire that would bloom inside her, to shove herself backwards and bring the rest of him inside her, but it was easily ignored. Even if she had not been able to ignore it, the grip the chieftain kept on her hips would have been too strong to overcome.

Her orgasm struck, making her cry out. Once again, he was unaffected by the spasms that reigned in her channel.

As the afterglow settled in, the next inch slid through her slit.

Pleasure began to build again. After all the time spent submitting to others' whims, her body was accustomed to such base sensations, so it took little time for that pleasure to build higher and higher, heading towards yet another orgasm.

The next inch triggered that orgasm, and during the glorious ecstasy, the last inch shoved through her slit, lengthening and intensifying the ecstasy. She cried out as she was filled by a thick cock, this time made to take it in an agonizingly slow fashion.

But the torture did not end.

He moved but did not summon his formidable strength to hammer into her.

Instead, his hips began to rock back and forth slowly.

She sorely wanted him to mount and rut her, but his desire was paramount, so she did not move or complain besides her instinctive whines. The slow rhythm was nevertheless wonderful, as she always enjoyed acting as a sheath for cock regardless of the speed or power of its movements.

His hips worked steadily, occasionally rotating to stretch her out a bit more.

More orgasms came.

It doesn't take much these days...that's what I get for being such a slag.

As the afterglow of the latest bout of ecstasy settled in, she snuck a hand down between her thighs, and scooped up some of the stickiness clinging there. Her reward was a fistful of cooled semen, which she began to slurp off her fingers.

She contented herself with collecting more of that clinging stickiness. There was plenty to be had, the spent semen finding its way back into her body, this time sliding sluggishly down her throat and into her belly.

The hut was quieter now, his growls replaced by steady breathing, her purrs low and subtle, the squelching of his cock through the mess of her juices not as loud due to the gentler pace.

Without the storm of lustful savagery overwhelming her, she could think clearly, and her mind drifted to the promise of what the next few days would hold. She had quite eagerly accepted that she had been given as a gift from King Victorin to the chieftain, and that she now belonged to Kunja. Such an arrangement was undeniably thrilling, the princess utterly gleeful at the idea of being just a possession, lacking any agency or power of her own, to be used whenever and however her owner wanted.

I do hope he shares me with the rest of the tribe. It would be a shame for him to be selfish...although if he decides to be, that would be his right.

The current lack of savagery did not in the slightest diminish the excitement she felt about the rest of her time here. There would be plenty of time for such debauchery. All she could do now was accept this gentler treatment, appreciating also that the chieftain was quite definitively doing what she had urged him to do.

I did tell him to do with me what he would.

Another mouthful of spent semen fell prey to her hunger. She squirmed as she swallowed the thick, gooey gobs.

And then he pushed her head down, forcing her upper half to pitch forward. He shifted until he was crouching over her, a whimper coming from her as she was mounted like she desired, a quiver running over her at the primal nature of his movement, the claiming of a mate, the assertion of his ownership of her.

But once again, he held off on summoning his formidable strength, only rotating his hips slowly, his cock grinding against her insides. She whined but was still unwilling to voice her desires more than that even as the desperation for a vicious fucking grew.

More spent semen squished from her from his steady movement, mingling with her juices. She resumed the effort to gather every bit of that cooled load that she could, the musky taste already dominating her tongue from the amount she had slurped up.

Finally, his hips drew back.

She moaned, expecting a hard thrust as his retreat stopped with just the head of that cock keeping her slit stretched.

Instead, his hips pushed forward slowly, refilling her bit by bit. Another moan fell from her.

He squeezed harder at her hips, the sparks of pain there bleeding into the building pleasure. Every additional inch added to that pleasure as well, until she was trembling uncontrollably, the moment of climax nearing.

The last inch slipped through her slit, a soft squish reaching her ears as that cock settled back completely into her channel. The moment of climax arrived, and she cried out, his name on her breath.

His hips pulled back again.

There was still none of that lustful brutality she had come to crave, nothing but measured movements, his cock slipping through her before pushing back inside, both the retreats and the advances quite leisurely. Despite the return of his low growls and the assertive squeezing at her hips, there was no hurry from him.

A few minutes of the slow going lulled her into complacency. As the latest retreat stopped with just the head inside her, she groaned, expecting more of the same.

He thrust hard, ramming to the base inside her. The sudden impact was too powerful for her legs to hold up against, so her entire body pitched forward, sending her down onto her stomach.

Her first reaction was a grunt, the air in her lungs forced out.

The surprise at having that massive shaft crammed inside her so rudely and unceremoniously delayed the pleasure, her body unable to immediately process the sensation, as taken off guard as it had been.

Seconds later, it reacted, her back arching sharply, her cunt twitching and spasming. A shriek ripped from her throat, an orgasm rushing suddenly towards her.

She came, the shriek calming into gasps. As she luxuriated in the ecstasy, his cock pulled back.

Several hard thrusts followed, forcing more shrieks from her. The ecstasy did not disappear, thanks to those thrusts, the princess awash in blissful euphoria.

The thrusts stopped suddenly, and the slower pace resumed, inch after inch sliding inside her. And once every inch was back in her, the slow pace reigned still, the chieftain setting his hips to gentle grinding motions. She groaned, caught entirely off guard by the thrusts and now the return to the previous pace, her head muddled by the surprise assault, her nerves humming from the exquisite stimulation.

More thrusts came hard and fast, her cries filling the hut. As she was flat on her stomach, he could easily rut into her helpless figure.

After those thrusts, his hips stilled, and began to move slowly, rotating and rocking.

The next few minutes alternated between hard thrusts and slow going. There was no discernable pattern in how he would switch back and forth, sometimes letting only a few seconds pass between the styles, his gentle movements lasting those seconds before a dozen hard thrusts followed, other times taking more time between the styles or giving her only a few hard thrusts. There was also no desire in her to try and detect a pattern, as she was content in not knowing when the next change would come, her cunt slowly taking those thick inches before suddenly taking a rough rutting for ten seconds, the constant back and forth disorienting but also delightful.

Finally, however, his lusts got the better of him.

The next set of thrusts did not stop until he reached his peak, which took a few more minutes.

She screamed and howled as his hard thrusts carried on, no change in pace coming anytime soon.

A wet sound joined the cacophony of their cries and growls. Her cunt was sending out streams of sticky juices, straight into the path of that cock, the wet sound the result of such a collision, the squish of a surging shaft through copious bodily fluids.

He leaned over her, and when she peeked to her left, and then her right, she saw his burly arms on either side of her head, his fists grabbing at the pallet for leverage so that he could keep himself up off her. A growl came from right by her ear, and as she mewled docilely in response, she glanced back, catching sight of that brutish visage, those eyes blazing with fierce desire, those teeth bared in an expression of primal fury.

His hips hammered against her, pounding down viciously, rutting her into the pallet.

This is what I need...this is what I want...this is what I love...

A splash landed on her shoulder, and she looked down to see a droplet there. Another glance back to that brutish visage was just in time to watch another dollop of slaver run over those tusk-like fangs and break off to splash down onto her. She squirmed at the feeling of that saliva dotting her skin.

And then those teeth locked onto her shoulder, digging possessively into her flesh, drawing another mewl from her. The addition of that sweet pain to the potent pleasure pushed her into her next orgasm.

As the waves of euphoria assaulted her, she noticed that his thrusts had stopped again, his hips stilling but that cock thankfully buried to the base inside her.

A powerful throb clued her in to his impending release.

A slick heat burst forth, spraying her channel with more seed, replacing what had leaked out. She cooed, wholeheartedly accepting that gift.

The thick spurts helped her ecstasy continue. Although they were not as numerous as those she had received earlier, they were plentiful enough to satisfy her, thoroughly flooding her womb, letting her wallow in another soothing warmth that sprung up in her belly.

He quickly moved off her after those spurts finished, his teeth leaving her flesh, his massive frame carefully dismounting her prone figure.

A contented purr spilled from her, and her body began to unwind, able to stretch out without that massive frame atop her. The wonderful onslaught of ecstasy bled into the comforting embrace of afterglow. She glanced down to her shoulder and sighed dreamily at the mark his teeth had left.

The bed shifted, and she glanced back to see the chieftain padding away from the pallet.

As she watched, drinking in his physique, he made his way to the front of the hut and ducked underneath the squat table. When he straightened back up, he was holding a jug and two cups.

As she kept her eyes fixed on his body, he came back to the pallet, and filled the cups. She rose onto her knees, and when he offered her one, she took it with a grateful smile.

The drink was clear, but as she raised the cup to her lips, a strong, sharp scent reached her, making her nose crinkle in dislike.

Definitely not water...some sort of liquor?

Not wanting to disappoint him despite her dislike, she took a sip. The taste was just as strong and sharp as the scent, forcing her to fight back the urge to spit the liquor back into the cup. She swallowed, and a warmth bloomed in her throat and upper chest.

Yeah...liquor.

He had already taken several sips, and now he chuffed, nodding to her cup.

"Oh," she began, hesitating, "it's uh...it's interesting..."

Another chuff answered her.

She smiled politely and took another sip.

Her eyes wandered to his chest as she forced herself to swallow. An idea sprung to life in her head.

"I know how to make it taste better," she told him coquettishly.

He watched in curiosity as she shuffled closer and raised the cup to his chest. A chuff of confusion came out, but when she tilted the cup, a chuckle followed, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Trickles of liquor splashed out onto his chest.

She pounced, licking them up, the taste of the liquor mixing with the flavor of his sweat.

"It tastes much better of you," she confirmed.

He chuckled again as she poured out another splash and lapped it up, her tongue running down his chest and to the top of his stomach in search of the wayward streams. The sweat she found along the way was a bonus.

A chuff came from him, and then he reached out to nudge at her. When he tilted his cup, she realized his intention.

She was quickly on her back, giggling as he in turn poured out some of his drink. The liquor splashed down in between her breasts, and then his mouth landed there, trailing after the trickles. Another splash landed on her stomach, his mouth moving there to lap up the spillage.

There was little left in his cup, so she poured out some of hers onto herself, dappling a breast. A few more of those spills, and her cup was almost empty. Since he was busy licking and lapping at her liquor-stained breasts, she drank the last sip.

To her delight, he spent a few more minutes at her breasts even once he had cleaned them of the wayward liquor. His mouth roamed all over, sucking at the stiff nipples, kissing at the meager swells, his teeth occasionally scraping gently. The eager attention provoked moan after moan from her, her arousal steadily building higher.

But when he finally drew back, he once again left the pallet.

This time, he passed through the front of the hut, and opened the door.

Suddenly interested in what the orcs outside were up to, she heaved herself to her feet, and padded over to the door. The slight unsteadiness in her legs made it slow going, but once she reached the chieftain, she wrapped an arm around his thick forearm, and leaned against him.

There were two groups of orcs still in the clearing.

One was to the right, drinking and talking, unconcerned with the other group.

That other group was to the left and was separated into smaller groups. Instead of talking and drinking, they were fucking, their grunts and growls loud and lewd, their muscular bodies undulating, their squirming figures shining with sweat. She pressed herself closer to Kunja, cooing at the view.

Footsteps from their left made her glance around him.

Several orcs stood there, and one chuffed at him. As she drank in their nakedness, he chuffed back.

A conversation started up. She could not help but be aroused at the idea that she might be its subject, the group discussing the slim, pale female who had spread her legs for the tribe and had since been given to the chieftain as a gift, his consummation of his ownership of her obvious by the teeth marks on her shoulder and the spent seed running down her thighs. One of the orcs chuffed at her, but she only smiled politely, and the chieftain answered for her.