Prince Gyllen Ch. 18

While Gyllen is still in the process of sailing over into the next continent, about to embark on the final leg of his grand excursion, let us turn our collective attentions back to his home country of Snjórland one final time to see how life there has carried on for a few of its residents since the good prince's departure.

One night, in a small hostel on an unnamed lane in Malmhule's Monster District, four orc males - Abe, Ben, Chad and Dean - were sat together in a circle either on a chair or a stool in a single-bedroom apartment. For those with sharp memories, you may mind this quartet of tusked, green-skinned males to be the very same set of studs whom Min had introduced Gyllen to not long after the goblin woman had made her initial meeting with the human lad, and subsequently bringing the blond into his first ever session of group coitus (for those who require a refresher or simply not in the know, please refer to chapter four of this tale). The reason for their gathering was because Dean had organised something for the four friends to amuse themselves with for this evening, though he refused to divulge the exact nature as to what shape this entertainment was to take, but given the circumstances and their track record, the other three could take a guess as to what was in store.

Currently, the quartet were deep in conversation as a way to pass the minutes until their leisure arrived, with a plentiful supply of bottled beer on hand to help keep their chat fuelled until the appointed time, the topic soon shifting towards past glories.

"When woz the last time we evens all got togetha like this?" Abe asked his confidants.

"I think it woz when Min first intraduced us to Goldie. Trust me, that ain't sumfin' I'm gonna be forgettin' for a long while, lemme tell ya~!" Ben answered with a toothy grin.

"Ah, yeah!" Abe returned, his face lighting up as the events of that day came flooding back to him. "Man, I haven' seen those two 'round 'ere for ages. Where'd ya 'spose they dis'ppeared off ta? Ya fink Min finally landed 'erself in the clink?"

"Didn' ya 'ear? Min's old crew showed up at the 'arbour coupla months back, an' she decided to run wiv 'em again for a while." Chad responded. "No idea when she's gonna be back though. Word on th' street is that they've takin' Prince Pussy wiv 'em on a tour o' th' world, or sum shit like that."

"For real? 'Ow th' 'el did folk like Min score a gig like that?" Abe inquired. "Ya sure they didn' kidnap 'im instead?" He added, chortling at his own joke.

"That's me guess why Goldie hasn' been showin' face either." Chad continued. "I wager 'e don' feel too safe walkin' th' streets o' th' Monster District wivout sumone 'oo's already been 'round the scheme."

"Wotta ya talkin' about? 'E's got four burly bodyguards right 'ere t' protect 'im!" Ben laughed, but his expression soon became sober. "...Oi, I jus' 'ad a thought...'spose Prince Pussy really is on the same boat trip wiv Min...and Goldie looks a 'elluva lot like Prince Pussy...ya don' 'spose Goldie really is Prince Pussy? And Min 'ad sum 'ow got chummy wiv 'im?"

"...Naaah! Don' go spewin' bollocks like that now!" Abe retorted, though only after he had taken a brief second to think the theory over. "'E said it 'imself, remember? 'Royals don' do this sort of thing', or sumfin' 'long those lines."

"Oh, yeah! That reminds me!" Chad then suddenly interjected. "'ave you guys 'eard 'bout that new streetwalker 'oo's started peddlin' her wares jus' th' other week?"

"Gonna 'ave to be more specific, mate." Abe said. "A new workin' girl pops every other 'our in this neighbour-'ood alone."

"Well, she's a 'uman bird for starters! Bit on the mature side, if ya get what I mean, but she's got curves t' die for! I think she's mostly been stickin' t' Old Town, but she's been startin' to make sum rounds right 'ere in th' Monster District!" Chad went on to explain. "But get this! Th' weirdest part is that she's th' spittin' image of Queen 'Elio!"

"Pull th' other one!" Ben shouted in disbelief.

"I'm serious! I dunno if it's just a coincidence, or if th' local sluts doin' themselves up like the nobles is a new fad alluva sudden, but I swear it's th' truth!" Chad insisted.

"Mebbe 'er and Goldie are runnin' some kinda ring togetha. A family business, if ya like." Abe joked. "Oh! Ya think there's one 'oo looks like Princess Eir? Always wanted to get me hooks on those milkers." Before anybody could humour his notion however, Dean, who had been unusually quiet the entire discussion, snorted out a dirty snicker that sounded as though he was trying to stifle for a while.

"Alright, I give. Wot's givin' you th' giggles then?" Ben asked their host.

"Oh, you'll see...once our fun gets 'ere." Dean said, still with a wide smirk on his face. "But first, 'ow's 'bout a little pre-show t' get us in th' right mood~?" The host orc then leaned his upper body over to the side to reach into an old, beat-up satchel that was leaning against the legs of his chair, pulling out from it a small paperback volume before proudly displaying it to his companions with a smug expression, the cover portraying a full-body illustration of a brunette halfling woman with her back turned on the viewer, hands raised and placed on the wall in front and half-looking over her shoulder, with the only articles on her shapely, diminutive figure being a pair of elbow-length gloves and a pair of knee-high socks on her short arms and legs respectively, alongside a G-string that did nothing to help conceal her chunky arse cheeks, all of them the same sky blue dye, and evidentially going topless considering there was no semblance of a strap running beneath her shoulder blades, with only the outer edges of her melons teasingly visible from the observer's viewpoint.

"Gods damn, is that th' new 'Tarts'?" Chad excitedly said upon laying his eyes the racy book, 'Tarts Bimonthly' being Snjórland's premier gentleman's magazine and a particular favourite amongst the male residents of the Monster District. "Wasn' that 'spose to be comin' out tomorrow? 'Ow the 'el didja get yer mitts on an early copy, ya sly bastard?"

"Me cousin's mate's younger brother works down at th' press where they print 'em." Dean explained. "I did 'im a few solids, jostled about a few twats 'e didn' get on wiv, and 'e lemme 'ave this as thanks just this mornin'! Easiest piece o' work I ever did, lemme tell ya. Still 'aven' taken a look inside yet though."

"Wot're ya waitin' for then! Give us a flick through then!" Abe pleaded, the inside his mouth slavering just from imaging alone what contents the paperback held.

Sure enough, Dean opened up to the first page of the magazine and (being the only one amongst them who was semi-literate) began to read aloud the graphic recounts and explicit interviews relating to a wide variety of girls of different backgrounds and different races the various 'journalists' had encountered from all across Occasus, and even a little beyond its borders, sharing the pictures with his friends whenever they were to frequently pop up, with the occasional comment being made by one of his guests sprinkling his oration. Just as Dean was relaying the descriptor of a particularly exotic specimen of a mermaid with sparkling scales and flowing hair both as brilliant blue as the midday ocean itself living a nudist lifestyle in the south seas separating Caliga and the Dark Continent, he was suddenly interrupted by one of the others without warning.

"Yer torturin' me over 'ere, man!" Ben exclaimed, anxiety in his voice and fidgeting in his seat as he clutched at the oblong lump that had formed and was straining against the left leg of his trousers while the thigh it was pressed against jittered uncontrollably. "Would...would you lot mind if I wank meself off proper like...?" His face flushed as he stammered out his next sentence.

"C'mon, Ben. Don' be makin' it weird now." Dean half-chuckled uneasily following a brief, confounded silence from the remaining trio towards the conviction in their friend's voice, even if he and the other two were also sporting similar bulges, though they made no effort to acknowledge the fact. "We got a bird comin' 'ere in a few 'oo's gonna take care of it, so jest 'ang on till then, yeah?"

"Uh-uh! Not 'appenin'!" Ben sharply responded, seething through his teeth. "I'm gonna go bleedin' mad if th' beast dosen' get wot it wants ASAP...!"

"Awright, awright! Jus'...go a-'ead an' do what ya need to then!" Dean conceded on the behalf of the remaining trio. "But don't go blowin' yer load early! I know wot yer like..."

"That woz one time!" Ben grumbled, but otherwise waited no further in unbuttoning the fly on his hide trousers all the way, opening the crotch of his bottoms wide open before reaching in and yanking his circumcised jade manhood into the open with a relieved exhale and without batting an eyelid. Naturally, the others were looking in Ben's direction during this, if only to confirm for themselves he was really going through with his insistences, each catching but a glimpse of his cock in hand despite their best efforts resisting not to do precisely that before casting their gazes in a different direction. Once Ben had begun to rapidly pump his penis in his fist proper as he made several sighs expressing his satisfaction, the others slightly shuffled their seats in the opposite direction to where he away was facing, all feeling extremely awkward to be sitting so close to a fellow male openly masturbating. The perusal then resumed as planned, uneasy at first as Abe, Chad and Dean all did their best to ignore Ben's unconcealed self-gratification, only quickly looking towards the latter again when he attempted to recline backwards and almost toppled clean off his stool after being reminded it had no rest, giving Chad a quick chuckle at least. Dean eventually regained his groove in relaying the magazine, though was postponed again partway through reciting a coarse discussion the columnist had with a centaur mare on past bedroom meetings and the difficulties that arose when shacking up with those whose quarters were not adjusted to suit her kind's cumbersome anatomy.

"Hey, uh, I'm kinda sidin' wiv Ben now. Me tool's feelin' way too cramped to keep stuck in me breeks." This time, Abe was the one to cut in on Dean's narration, though acting far more civil in his speech compared to the first orc to do so. "Ya awright if I take mine out too...?"

"Oh, for th' luvva- fine!" Dean acquiesced, not expecting nor wanting what was only to be some minor kindling before the main event to escalate into a full-on circlejerk. "Got zero patience these two, am I right, Chad?" But when Dean turned his head seeking corroboration, he only found Chad already in the process of unfastening his belt before Abe had even whipped his own member out. "Mate, what th' fuck!?" Dean exclaimed with disrelish.

"Oi, if everyone else's doin' it, then there's no sense in me 'olding back too!" Chad justified himself. "Wot's the big deal anyway? Everybody wanks! And it's not like we ain't seen each other's equipment before awready."

£Yeah, but gangbangs are different! Wankin' wiv yer mates? That jus' ain't right." Dean argued.

"Oi, yer gonna be gettin' yer tadger out in a minute or two any-'ow. Ya might as well get warmed up like the rest o' us!" Ben laughed aloud.

Realising that he had been outvoted by the majority, Dean groused something underneath his breath before setting to work loosening his trousers like the rest of them, though forced to use only a single hand to do so while the other held the paperback. Despite this handicap, Dean was able pull out his manhood the same time Abe and Chad removed their own appendages from their cloth confines, the three of them shooting one other awkward glances, none of them believing they were actually going through with displaying their dicks to each other without a woman, or at least a very feminine boy, present. Nevertheless, the trio joined Ben - whose tugs had calmed down significantly since his initial frenzy - in slowly stroking their shafts without another word save for Dean's continued reading, though the host's speech had now become noticeably more slurred and stilted thanks to a combination of nerves and his concentration being divided between his mind and his other head.

However, with just a few additional page turns deeper into the magazine, the four friends quickly became somewhat more comfortable with the concept of collective masturbation over the initial uncertainty, if their bolder moans and the increased confidence in their wrist motions were any indicator. Despite being the one most opposed to the idea initially, Dean ironically turned out to be the most enthusiastic fapper out of the four during this time, the erotic words coming from his own mouth arousing him greatly as his right fist rapidly came up and down his extensive inches in an impressive example of multitasking, his masturbation hand shooting up from his privates to the book and returning again in less than a second each time he was required to flick to the next sheet just to minimise as much as possible the amount of time wasted not stroking his cock.

"Oooh! I like this one!" Abe excitedly declared just as the issue was opened up to an vertical, immaculately detailed portrayal of a willowy-limbed elf maiden with fair hair styled in a pixie cut, lounging completely nude on her side across a white silk-draped divan, facing towards the readers with a 'come hither' visage and nothing to hide her perfectly smooth, svelte front.

"Mmph~! Same 'ere!" Ben eagerly concurred. "Keep it open on this page for a bit, Dean!"

"Oi, give us a goosie, will ya? I can hardly see from 'ere!" Chad contributed to the chorus.

"'Ere, I got an easy solution." Dean responded to the final statement by stooping his torso over to reach down and lay the open paperback flat on the floor, not once taking his hand away from his cock and momentarily putting his head in the crossfire of those green sausages still in the midst of being stroked, straightening himself once more to allow each one of the circle to see the image without impediment.

"Oooh, nice~!" Chad commented as he shifted himself to the edge of his seat and leaned forwards to take a closer scrutiny of the picture, now tugging his large dick directly above the magazine. The others all followed suit, the emerald tips of their genital appendages - all more-or-less equal in size - coming dangerously close into contact with one another as their lengths were stroked, though none of them now seemed to mind in the slightest, mainly since their focus was primarily concentrated onto the drawing, though it was impossible for any of them to view the image without catching at least a glimpse of their fellows jerking themselves likewise in the peripheries of their vision from how closely huddled they all currently were, which soon led to a couple of comments being made.

"The 'el kinda way to beat yer meat is that?" Abe inquired, laughing as he looked to Dean sitting across from him who had his hand turned around backwards as it tugged on his member.

"Sumfin' wrong wiv doin' it this way? I've been wankin' like this for as long as I've known wot wankin' woz. Makes it feel more like yer gettin' a proper handy!" Dean countered. "Don' knock it if ya haven' tried it."

"I prefer goin' two-handed meself~" Chad interposed, prompting the pair sitting adjacent to him to turn their heads in his direction to see both his mitts clasped tightly around and pumping away at his girthy pillar at an unhurried pace in exchange for extra strength, his defined biceps bulging with every pull he made on his tube. Just then, a sudden grunt was heard from the other end of the ring, catching Abe, Chad and Dean off guard, leading them to turn their necks to the source just in time to see Ben's entire frame seize up for a brief instant as a thick dollop of transparent pre-cum unexpectedly dribbled from his urethra and landed precisely onto the illustrated elf's painted countenance.

"Gods dammit, Ben! Don' be gettin' the pages sticky now!" Dean snapped at his friend, while the remaining two could only laugh at what they were unable to decide was either poor or excellent aim on Ben's part.

Dean's vexation quickly dissolved however, being far too caught up in the moment to truly care about the state of his magazine, even if all four of them should end up soaking the paper with their spunk by the end of it all. The other three likewise lost themselves to their delight, the room filling with their unrestrained groans while their wrist motions far exceeded the moderate pace they had kept their jerking to up until this point, Ben trying out the two-handed technique while Abe and Chad forewent using the magazine for masturbatory material altogether as they both reclined into their chairs with eyes closed over in bliss, the former even deciding to try out Dean's unorthodox reverse-hand method on his manhood as he did so.

Already content by their own efforts causing their cocks to throb in their hands, the four non-human men had all but forgotten of their evening rendezvous by the time a rapping was heard coming from outwith the apartment's only door, gentle but making enough of a sound above their joint masculine huffs to startle each hardy orc out their daydreams. All quietly faced towards the door, before three out of the four pairs of eyes amongst them then expectantly fell to Dean for him to take action, seeing as it was his accommodation they were seated in as well as him being the one closest to the portal. The host got up and out his seat without another word and haphazardly stuffed his sausage back into his trews without giving himself time to adjust, leaving a rather obvious lump running from the centre of his crotch to his hip. Dean headed towards the door regardless, cracking it open just enough to let him ascertain who the caller may have been.

"Funny. The lads were jus' talkin' about ya earlier." Dean said to the new arrival, smiling to himself as he took two steps back to swiftly swing the door fully open to allow the individual on the other side entry to his less-than-humble abode, the three others gawking with mouths agape as their sights were blessed with the introduction of the fifth member of their small get-together.

"Bloody 'el!" Abe exclaimed after picking his jaw up from the floor. "Ya weren't 'alf-kiddin' when ya said she looked like the Queen. She's 'er flippin' double!"

In the doorframe stood a human woman approximately aged in the range of her late thirties to mid forties (the heavy make-up she wore made an estimate somewhat tricky to determine), with radiant olive skin and fluffy, curled locks resembling a cloud as sable as ebony resting on her shoulders which framed gorgeous features that bore more than just a remarkable resemblance to Snjórland's distinguished matriarch: from the soft, circular contour of her head, to the wise glint in her dark, pensive eyes, down to the beauty mark embellishing the left side of her top lip - a characteristic even most portrait artists tended to neglect - the lady's face was a precise copy to that of the kingdom's de facto ruler!

In place of royal regalia however, the woman was clad in articles which a monarch would never be caught dead wearing even in the most outlandish of costume parties: an open jacket made of carmine leather hung from her shoulders to the space between her chest and her stomach, better revealing her midriff bared in a crimson vest she wore underneath which was slightly smaller than even the black brassiere holding her hefty bosom perceivable from the lacy edges peeking out from the neck-end of the top. On her matronly waist, she wore a skirt predominately red in colour to match her upper half, but with a faux leopard print dotting the material as it held tightly to her hips and accentuated her prominent rump, and cut short to a ludicrous extent that allowed for the crotch of her hot pink thong to be plainly visible as its thin bands rode high up her appetising thighs, leaving her groin just scarcely concealed.