Up The Creek #2 / #3

Up the Creek #2 / #3

Putting both in one because chapter #2 doesn't have that much action. First everyone showers off the results of the afternoon. The next morning, Dale once more tries his luck - and this time, Kingsley is only there to enable him.

Kingsley reached for the soap, watching the scene in front of him. An overprotective Asim was an entertaining thing to watch. He had Dale penned between massive calves, bulk casting a shadow over the tiny form beneath him. The only water reaching Dale was runoff. Kingsley watched as the little man made a step towards freedom. A massive foot planted in front of him, nudging him back into confinement. A little complaint, inaudible over the running water. Asim scratched his hairy balls.

“I should've taken a leak before I got in.” The big man was barely paying attention. Kingsley knew what was going to happen now. He looked down, grinning as the little man looked up in fear. Asim relaxed his bladder with a yawn, spraying the little man with piss.

“Finally giving him a proper shower, are you?” Asim reached down absent-mindedly to stop his prisoner from escaping, scrubbing a hairy pit with his other hand.

“Yeah. Daley likes it. Right, buddy?” The little man opened his mouth to say something. Asim adjusted his aim, the stream filling up a small mouth. Little splutters. Asim finally finished emptying his bladder and stretched, shaking himself off. A sign of a scowl beneath him.

“He needs to be clean sooner or later, love.” Asim finally squatted down to pay the little man some attention

“I know. He’s just so - teasable. Come here, buddy.” He gave the little man a hug. Kingsley snorted.

“Pass him here. You wanted us to get to know each other.” Kingsley sat on the shower floor, lifting the little man into his lap. Soap first. Then shampoo and conditioner. Dale was an obedient little thing. Probably still shellshocked from his earlier ordeal. Asim stepped out next to them. Once Kingsley was done, he trapped the little man in a quick headlock and opened the shower door. Asim pounced. Dale disappeared beneath a towel. Kingsley stretched as he stepped out behind them. Asim looked up, tucking a wriggling bundle of fabric under his arm. 

“Looking good, babe.”

“Focus on the lad.” Asim gave the bundle an affectionate squeeze.

“My bad.” He sat down. The bundle went between his legs. He scrubbed the little man down playfully. Small, ineffective struggles. Finally, everyone was dry. Dale’s hair was a mess after Asim had scrubbed him down. Kingsley ran his hands under the tap, snagging him as he went for the door, working some kind of order back into his hair. He shook off his hands. Asim was happy. The little man looked like he was beginning to work out what planet he was on again.  Everything was in order.

“Everyone ready to order some food?”

“I’ll get it. Same as usual, right?”

“Aye. You want anything in particular, lad?” Confused little stare. “Not quite together yet. He won’t eat much. Just the usual.” Asim bounded off. Apparently, Kingsley was on petsitting duty now. He led Dale down the stairs and into the living room. It was hard to work out the limits of his shyness. Around little men, Asim had a talent for exposing submission. He was cute, though, now that most of Asim's filth had been washed off. Plenty of people would have run away screaming by now, so he was either relatively relaxed or his attraction had shut down any complaints. That was enough for Kingsley. 

“You still smell of ass, lad.” A little grimace.

“Blame Asim.”

“You do speak after all.” He set the little man up on the sofa with a shot glass of water he could barely lift, grabbing a coke for Asim. Soon, Asim was back. Kingsley lifted the little man’s glass safely out of the way as he bounced towards them. Just in time. Asim lifted the little man one-handed, dumping him in his lap.

“I have your spare clothes, buddy.” Another pair of trousers. Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

“Jeans, lad? Do you just want a blanket?”

“No, these are good.” Asim produced a t-shirt as well. Definitely not the little man’s. Small hands picked it up, brow furrowing, the fabric unfolding over his legs and down the front of the sofa. Asim took it from him and pulled it over his head. The struggling was stronger now. Futile, of course, but at least he had some personality back. Kingsley grinned and gave his little shoulder a poke.

“So. Your name is Dale. You work in IT.” The little man looked up. An owlish blink.

“Uh - yes. A systems administrator. You work in cybersecurity, right?”

“That I do. But I met this big oaf when I was a personal trainer.” He fixed Dale in his gaze. “Enough small talk. What’s your intention with my husband?” Asim glared at him.

“Uh - sex, I suppose? Respectfully. We get along. He’s a friend as well as a hookup.” Kingsley snorted.

“What about with me?” A small head cocked.

“I think that’s up to you as much as me.”

“Humour me. Go into detail.” Little eyes looked him up and down. Surprisingly bold.

“You’re attractive. I think you know that. I don’t know you that well, but I would like to see if the attraction is mutual. And - well - Asim is your husband, not mine. That makes it important for me to know your boundaries.”

“Hmm.” He watched as Asim wrangled the little man more firmly into his arms, bulky biceps enveloping his head.“Let’s see what happens. I wouldn’t have invited you to stay if I wasn’t interested.” Asim scowled at him, a small hand tapping weakly at his beefy forearm.

“Are you done bullying him?”

“You’re one flex from a sleeper hold.”

“This is a cuddle. I'm being gentle.” The doorbell rang. “I'll get it.” Kingsley chuckled as Asim dumped the little man in his lap. Small arms shook themselves, and then he looked up. A hint of fire. Kingsley growled at him, tweaking his ear. Hands batted at his fingers and he twisted an arm gently behind Dale's back. Asim came back in, dumping a bag on the coffee table. He pulled it open and spread out the contents. Plastic cutlery and a couple of boxes landed in front of Kingsley. Then Asim sat down and lifted Dale back up. A little yawn. Asim handed the little man a slice of garlic bread. “Don’t sleep yet, buddy. You must be hungry.” He set a container in Dale’s lap. Probably a week's food at that size. Kingsley swiped it.

“How much do you think that little runt can eat?” A rebellious frown from Dale. Kingsley raised an eyebrow and the little man looked back down. Asim laid a reassuring hand over Dale’s torso.

“Just a few bites. He needs his energy back.” A miniature elbow bounced off Asim’s belly.

“I am right here, you know. You can talk to me directly.” Asim ruffled his hair.

“Feisty now, are we? Shh. Eat a bit more, then you can sleep.” There was a moment when it looked like Dale had something else to say, then he gave up. His eyes were already beginning to close. Kingsley reached for Asim's hand, squeezed it, and dug back in. It was nice. His husband leaned into his side. The little man beneath them drifted slowly off, a small hand still on Kingsley’s thigh. Kingsley gave it a gentle tap. Tiny palm, little fingers. He looked down properly. Already comatose. Kingsley leaned into Asim's shoulder, tickling the little man's chin.

“He's cute. I like him.”

“Right? So you don’t mind if we keep him?” Kingsley flicked Asim’s forehead.

“Slow down. He can come to bed with us today, for starters. Let's see how it goes.” A sheepish grin.

“Okay. Thanks for fishing him out earlier. I was worried.”

“I’m just glad it wasn't anything too serious. I thought something had happened when you came running down the stairs.” Something crossed his mind. “Why were your briefs back on already if you wanted me to fish him out?”

“Well, I - I figured he would be fine. You’re not always back early, and he was on a timer before he got too deep. I figured I might as well start getting dressed.” Kingsley grinned.

“Poor little guy. What is he, a toy? You were just going to leave him up there?”

“I didn't have a choice! You know this. If something's too deep, I just have to relax and let it work its own way out. Even if the something is a someone.” Kingsley chuckled.

“You’re an asshole.”

“He likes it. You'll be just as bad soon. He's the perfect size for just - you know. Messing around.” Kingsley looked down. In his sleep, Dale was calm. Utterly oblivious to Asim's plans.

“Messing around, huh?”

“In a friendly way. I want him to have fun too.”

“Give him to me for a minute.” Asim lifted up Dale’s unconscious form, handing him over. Kingsley held Dale up in front of him. He really was cute. A little scaled-down Adonis. He stirred.

“Babe! You woke him up!” Kingsley wrapped him up in his arms.

“He'll be fine. Go back to sleep, lad.” He put a tiny face in his pit before the little man could open his eyes. Tiny struggles. He chuckled. It didn't take the little man long to pass back out, still tenting in his jeans. Asim gave him a look.

“That was kind of hot.”

“Mhmm. He needed sleep.” Asim sniffed.

“Now he smells of pits as well as ass. Do you think he even knew he was awake?”

“Probably just thought it was a wet dream. All he should've got was darkness and stink before he was back under. Strip him and put him to bed, would you? Then we can have some full-size fun.” A salute. Asim scooped the little man up. Kingsley leaned back and watched him walk out.

Chapter #3

When Kingsley woke up, Dale was up to his bicep in Asim's hairy arse, getting deeper by the moment. He looked up desperately. A slurping noise, then he went a little deeper. No amount of struggling could rescue him at that size.

“Asim persuaded you to wake him up with some play, huh?” A nod. “Then you went too deep and discovered that he can sleep through just about anything?”

“Help, please.” Kingsley sat down next to him.

“Well, lad. I could. If you want me to, I’ll do it. But I've got a counteroffer. I want to get my rocks off. I got some toys here. I want you to hang on to this chain and take a quick spelunking session. Everyone will end up with what they want.” He watched as the little man braced against the pull of Asim's insides. A wet slurp. Dale pulled out a couple of inches, then got sucked in twice as far.“Keep in mind, though. If you lose your grip, I'm not rescuing you this time. It's all on you. I'll let Asim know you're inside him so he knows to keep an eye out, but that's it.” Common sense was a powerful force. Libido was stronger. Kingsley smirked as he watched the little man mull it over.

“That sounds fun.”

“Yeah it does.” The little man’s shoulder disappeared into the depths, swallowed between massive glutes.

“But I still need help for now, please.” Kingsley took pity on him. He wrapped his hand beneath the little man's armpit to stop the advance.

“Let's see you put some muscle into it, lad. Pull yourself out.” Small muscles tightened. Kingsley watched the little man's back tense up. Not very effective. He lent more power, grinning as Asim's walls tightened around a tiny arm. A mumbled complaint, even as he slept. A slow, wet squelch. Dale pulled out his arm and hopped back. He shook off his hand, wincing as something unpleasant oozed over his fingers. “Not enjoying yourself?”

“I did actively volunteer for this. I can't really complain about the general filth.”

“Correct.” Kingsley reached for the bedside table. In the bottom drawer was a thick chain. Massive to the little man, a flared toy at the end with a handhold for Kingsley. The little man examined it. “Plenty of handholds, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Let's get you lubed up. Boxers off. Even if you make it out, they won’t.” He shook the bottle and held it over the little man’s head. A grumble. Small arms shielded Dale's eyes. Kingsley squeezed, watching lube ooze over the little form. He set it aside and started rubbing it over the man's torso. A shiver. “Cold?”

“Yeah.”

“You're going somewhere warm, lad. Stick it out for me.” The chain was next. Plenty of lube. Better safe than sorry.

“I do want to be able to hold on, you know.”

“Uh huh.” The little man was studying his expression. Kingsley stared down openly. He wasn't trying to hide his intentions.

“You don’t think I'm making it out anytime soon, do you?”

“I know you won't, lad.”

“I think I can prove you wrong.”

“Be my guest.” He gave the little man his chain. Little arms grabbed on. Kingsley lifted it up, looking down at Asim's spread-out form. Bulk and muscle and thick black hair. He spread massive cheeks one-handed, dangling the little man above his new home. He landed the first link on Asim's hole, poking it in. Still plenty loose enough. A couple more links and Asim took over. He let massive cheeks close over the chain. Wet, muted squelching as metal started to disappear. The little man wasn't high up. His feet were already in the dark crevice, Asim's hair curling around his ankles. “Here we go, lad.”

“Hang on.” Kingsley pulled the chain taut. Dale looked up at him, hanging on for dear life, sudden worry on his face. “This is not the cleverest thing I've ever volunteered for, is it?” Kingsley poked his little stomach.

“You know you're not going to get hurt.”

“Yeah. Uh. What about getting lost?”

“Isn't that the fun of it?” The bob of a tiny Adam’s apple. The little man nodded. Kingsley relaxed his hold. Dale winced as fat arsecheeks moulded around his form, sweat and lube rubbing over him. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Uh. Wet. Warm.” The little man rubbed his nose. “And he kind of stinks.”

“Yeah he does. That's a proper man's smell.”

“I'm a proper - eughh.” He batted a coil of sweaty hair away from his mouth. “Fuck. Why is there so much suction?” He disappeared between greasy curls. Kingsley snorted, pulling Asim's cheeks apart again. There he was. Little feet had already disappeared inside. Dale looked up. Fear. Thrill. Humiliation, red across his cheeks. Kingsley blew on him as he opened his mouth, Asim's hole clenching beneath him, dragging in his calves. “That’s enough, lad. Just let it take you now.” Asim's hole took its time. Link after link slid wetly inside. Slowly, hungrily, the abyss swallowed Dale down. Kingsley watched, feeling himself up through his pyjamas. The little man looked up as his thighs slid in. Kingsley raised an eyebrow.

“Jesus. I’m fucking stupid.” A big squelch. His torso was gone. Kingsley grinned.

“See you later, lad.” Kingsley made the last move, placing a hand on a tiny head and pushing gently in. Asim's hole swallowed greedily. Gentle, warm suction around his finger. He went in a little more until he was up to the knuckle. There was still a small head beneath the pad of his finger. He withdrew the finger, watching for a moment. The idle release of gas around the chain. Asim let out a happy exhale in his sleep. He winced as it hit his nose. He pulled the chain out a little, then stopped. A little more. A glimpse of a tiny head. Out came Dale, piece by piece. Filthy. He spat something out, then looked up, beaming. 

“You did get me out!” Kingsley let the chain go slack. “Oh - fuck.” Then he was gone again. Kingsley toyed with him lazily. In and out, the chains gleaming with unmentionable fluids. Dale’s energy wouldn't last forever. The stench, and the suction, the slippery flesh around him. It was all getting too much for him. Enthusiasm turned sluggish. Finally, he pulled the chain out for the last time. Link by link, slimy, soiled, and with no passenger hanging on. Kingsley ran it over his hands, feeling the warmth of Asim's insides on the metal. Asim's arse was still a glorious thing to watch in action. The casual release of musk. Kingsley reached for some lube. He pulled off his boxers and yawned. He laid down over Asim's body, comparing the bulk of their bodies. Muscle on muscle, heft on heft. A good match. A far cry from the little man lost somewhere in Asim's plumbing. He thrust in lazily. Loose, sloppy hole. It felt good. Familiar. Finally, a sleepy stir. Asim breathed out and pushed back. A rough murmur.

“Feels good.”

“Mhmm.” Kingsley pressed his lips against Asim's neck. It was a comfortable fuck. Just the steady movements of his hips. He shifted his bulk slowly, Asim grinding against the sheets beneath them.

“Didn't we have a little man in bed with us?”

“Aye. He's gone spelunking.”

“Mmm.” A moment of stillness, then Asim chuckled as he registered the sentence.

“Where?”

“Where do you think, love?” Kingsley gave his ass a lazy smack.

“Did I sleep through it?”

“You did.” A yawn.

“I'll have to put him back up there again later, then. I want to feel it. He was happy about it, right?”

“Of course he was. What sort of arsehole do you think I am?”

“You know that's not what I meant.” Kingsley burrowed his head into the back of Asim's hair.

“I know. He was happy.” Kingsley wrapped his hand around Asim's, closing his eyes as warmth built beneath him. It was a pleasant orgasm. Warm and affectionate. He laid down with a yawn, feeling powerful muscles shift beneath him.

“You gonna come back to sleep for a few more minutes, babe?”

“Just a couple. Breakfast soon.” He lay there a little longer, feeling the early morning sunlight warm his back as it filtered around the curtains. Finally, he got up and pulled out. A flow of his come onto the sheets. It was a problem for later. He sat up and rubbed his eyes.

“Time for some food, then. I'm gonna use up some bacon. You want orange juice as usual?”

“Yeah. And - well. Coffee, please.”

“You don't usually have coffee.” A guilty shuffle. Asim rolled over and scratched his belly. Kingsley chuckled. “You’re a sadist sometimes, love. Go on then. I still need to wake up. I'll put a proper pot on.”

A friend of my dad’s is sitting in our living room when I come downstairs. 

He’s dressed in a Santa outfit. 

‘Mr Harris?’ I ask, bewildered. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Hey, son,’ he says, winking at me. ‘I know your parents aren’t around for the holidays and I had a spare key, so just wanted to stop in and see how you’re doing. You wanna come over here and tell Santa what you want for Christmas?’ 

I laugh and turn towards the kitchen. ‘No thanks, I’m 21. I think I’m a little old for Father Christmas, don’t you?’

‘Suit yourself,’ he says, and stands up and stretches. I hadn’t really noticed until now, but the suit is half unbuttoned, and I can see his big, hairy, powerful chest straining against it as he stretches. 

He catches me staring and I blush. 

‘Hehe,’ he chuckles. ‘You sure you don’t wanna come sit up on my knee, son?’ 

I hesitate. My mouth is dry. Secretly, I’ve had a crush on my dad’s friend for years but I never thought anything would ever come of it. 

‘At least tell me which list to put you on,’ he says as I walk slowly back toward him. 

‘List?’

He pulls me down onto his lap. ‘Naughty or nice’, he says. 

Firmly holding me on his lap, he slowly starts to bounce me up and down on his knee. 

‘N-naughty’, I stammer, looking into his eyes.

‘Yeah?’ He murmurs in my ear. ‘You been a naughty boy, have you, eh?’

‘Yes, Sir’, I choke out. I suddenly realise I’m rock hard. 

‘And what do you think naughty boys should get?’

He’s still moving his knee up and down so that I have to put my hand on his chest to steady myself. 

‘A spanking,’ I reply without thinking. 

He laughs, another dry, dirty chuckle. ‘Yeah? Over my knee for a good hiding, is that it, boy? I think we can do better than that. I think,’ he murmurs into my ear again, ‘bad boys like you need a good hard fuck. What do you say to that?’

I whimper a little as his hand strays towards my crotch. As he caresses the bulge in my jeans he says, ‘Oh, I don’t think you need to say anything at all.’ 

He orders me to strip and get on all fours. I hear the sound of a belt buckle coming undone behind me, and he says, ‘You ready for my cock, faggot?’

I nod imperceptibly. Before I know it, I feel his full weight on top of me and he gets a fistful of my hair and pulls gently, forcing me to arch my back. Again he speaks, low, into my ear. ‘When I ask you a question, boy, the answer is ‘Yes, Sir’. Is that clear, faggot?’

‘Yes, Sir,’ I reply instantly. 

‘Good’. Then the weight shifts slightly, and that’s when I feel his thick, hard cock resting in the cleft of my arse. ‘Now, why don’t you tell me where you want my cock, boy? Nice and loud.’

‘Deep up my faggot cunt, please, SIR!’ I shout. 

‘Yeah? That where you want it, boy?’ 

‘Yes please, Sir.’

‘Yeah? Bareback?’

‘YES SIR!’ I am trembling with anticipation.

‘Good boy. Here it fucking comes.’ 

He slides into my cunt, balls deep. ‘Thank you SIR!’ I scream. 

‘God, I’ve been wanting to fuck you for a couple of years now, son. Been biding my time. And now, here we are. Christ, that’s a tight cunt. You’re a virgin, ain’t’cha boy?’

‘Yes Sir,’ I reply, feeling him thrust into my hole. 

He chuckles again. ‘Yeah, just my fuckin’ type. Dirty whore.’ 

He keeps going, holding onto my hips and thrusting hard. Several minutes pass, during which he keeps pulling my hair to keep my back arched so he can thrust deeper into my cunt. 

‘You ready for me to flood your fucking guts for you, faggot?’ 

‘Yes Sir’, I reply, whimpering in pleasure.

‘Good, because I’m about three thrusts from breeding your cunt.’

I feel him thrust twice, and then he pulls out. I wait a second, then turn my head to look at him behind me. He’s breathing heavily, that gorgeous furry chest rising and falling.

‘What’s the matter?’ I ask. 

He looks me right in the eyes. ‘Beg for it, faggot. Beg me to breed that hole.’

I catch on quickly. ‘Please, Sir,’ I beg, giving him my best fuck-me eyes, ‘please dump that load up my faggot cunt. I need that fucking seed please Sir. Spunk in my fucking guts. Fucking knock me up, please Sir.’

He grabs hold of my hips and thrusts into my cunt, balls deep. As he thrusts, I tense and squeeze my arse muscles so I’m extra tight for him. 

‘Oh, you dirty little slut’, he mutters as he realises what I’ve done. And then, ‘FFFFFUUUUUUUUCK’, he shouts, and I feel him shoot his load deep in my arse. He thrusts a time or two more, just enough so he knows every last drop is dumped up my cunt, and then I feel him get off me. 

‘Thank you, Sir’, I say. He sits down on the chair again and pulls me onto his lap. 

‘We can’t tell your parents about this, boy. Not yet, at least. Understand?’

We’re kissing, deep and passionately. ‘Yes Sir,’ I reply. ‘Anything you say.’

‘So, have you learned your lesson, boy? You gonna be a good boy from now on?’

I smile cheekily at him, before saying ‘No. If anything, I’m gonna be as bad as possible.’ I reposition myself on his knee so I can duck my mouth down to his right nipple, which I start licking, sucking and lightly biting.

‘Then I guess I’ll have to keep fucking you, boy. Once a week at least, until - careful, boy. You’re going the right way for another good hard fuck.’

‘Mmm-hmm’, I murmur, my mouth still working his nipple while my hands explore that big, hairy chest. I slide off his knee, release his nipple from my mouth and say, ‘I’m counting on it.’ Then I kiss my way down his body until I’m kneeling in front of him. 

I look up. ‘The next load of cream you shoot is gonna be right down the back of my faggot throat, Sir. All over my fucking tonsils. I’ll swallow it all.’ 

‘Good boy,’ he says, and I feel his hands on the back of my neck, ensuring I won’t be going anywhere for a while. I open my mouth, and deep throat his thick cock. My hands instantly go to tug on his nipples while he fucks my throat. ‘Good fucking boy.’ 

Acclimatisation

An orc gives a human a helpful lesson.

There was a certain kind of human that couldn't resist an orc. The man between Barric's legs was obviously a prime example. He had been a soldier at one point. Barric could see the kingdom's emblem tattooed on his shoulder. That didn't mean much now. The little man had given him puppy eyes from across the square. He had made an attempt to arrange it back into a glare when Barric met his eyes.  A few looks, a hand signal or two, and the little man had followed Barric out the square. Now they were in an empty stable. Barric was sitting on a bench, legs spread wide. The little man was on his knees in the straw with dirt on his breeches and Barric's fat cock in his mouth. A little tongue lapped at his dirty foreskin, licking up his filth. Barric patted his head, encouraging him to get stuck in. An orc was a lot bigger than the average human. He knew this. The little man knew this. Barric also knew that with a little patience, a little discipline, and a little gentleness, that wasn't an obstacle to a well-trained human. Very gently, he began to nudge his way into the man's mouth. Mild noises of indignation. The first step was to be strict. Barric held him there until the wriggling stopped and a little tongue started tasting again. Good. Barric was starting to get hard. He slowly filled up the man's mouth. Now the human was getting nervous again. Hold him still, pet his hair until he got used to it. Bury himself a little deeper. Soothe the accompanying nerves, feel the warmth of his throat as he pushed in again, repeat. A gag. He chuckled.

“It's alright.” Probably didn't understand Orcish. The back of a little throat. Barric waited a little longer, then he gripped the base of his thick cock and angled it down the best he could. A little further in. This bit was the hardest. He let the man gag it out, hushing him soothingly, until little lungs worked out how to take shallow breaths around him. Slowly, patiently, he filled up an expectant little throat with his cock. They were interesting things, humans. Oddly warlike in groups. But surprisingly well suited to companionship. Something about orcs in particular made their bodies respond a certain way. To adjust, essentially. It was fascinating to see it in action. Panic became regular nerves, then nerves cycled to mildly overwhelmed enjoyment, and then the little man was aroused again. Barric ruffled his hair. He was almost in now. A little nose buried itself in his bush, wrinkling. Barric felt his brow crease in amusement. He had been helping out the leatherworkers today. He wasn’t exactly smelling fresh after all that work. It would be fine. Orc stink was almost a drug to a human like this one. Barric started to move. Out by just an inch at first. Keep it slow. In carefully. Pick up the pace. Before long, he was fucking a little throat. The key was to hold the human in place. The back was different. Some proper preparation and a decent amount of lube went a long way. But the front needed care. Little necks were fragile. Being held in place made sure the little man wouldn't hurt himself and that Barric could get his pleasure uninterrupted. Little repetitive gags. It was always a little too much for them, really. But now the pleasure was in control, not the pain. The standard had been established, the little man knew his place, and Barric had free rein. The curve of his dick felt just right. He could feel the soft insides of the human's throat on every vein and pore of his thick cock. Finally, he came, filling up a little belly. He panted in pleasure, pumping a few last thrusts into the human's throat. That delicious feeling of his balls emptying into a willing receptacle. He held the little man there a little longer. That last pullout could be rough on a tired little throat. Barric liked to let himself soften first, it was gentler. He rubbed soothing circles over a small skull. He was a good little man. It was important to get that across. Carefully, gently, he began to pull out. Then he paused. His balls weren't the only thing that was full. He looked down. An obedient little blink, the human's attitude temporarily fucked out of him. He grinned and relaxed. His piss sprayed into the little man's throat. A surprised little splutter. He set a leg over the little man’s shoulder to make sure he didn't get any silly ideas. Barric exhaled in pleasure, holding his new toy in place, marking his territory. Angry little noises. Too much for him, of course. Barric chuckled as rancid yellow urine streamed out over a little chin. His tunic went from cream to dark yellowish-grey. Dripping from head to toe. It felt right. Barric made sure he pulled out before he was fully spent, smacking a little face with his limp cock. He stood up and looked down. Aim carefully. The last contents of his bladder drained over the little man's head. He couldn't have such an important part of him remain unmarked.  Then he was done. He tucked himself back into his furs. The human seemed too stunned to react. A look down at little hands, wet with stinking orcish urine. A puddle, staining the straw around his feet. Barric nudged his shoulder affectionately and wandered off. He knew where to find him, the little man worked at a stall in the market. Barric would be back. There was a lot more training to do, but it was a good start.

Up the Creek

Kingsley has to attempt a rescue when his husband gets a tiny hookup too deep.

Kingsley could hear music upstairs as he unlocked the door. He dumped his jacket over the bannister, kneeling down to pull off his shoes. Straight onto the shoe rack. There was an extra pair of men's shoes, lost between a couple of Asim’s trainers. A fraction of the size.

“I forgot he had a date over.” He called up the stairs. “Anybody home?” Hurried footsteps. A big, broad form appeared at the top of the stairs. Kingsley grinned.

“Hey, love. Where are your trousers?” Asim’s eyes were worried. He moved fast, thundering down the stairs. Kingsley caught him in his arms, looking him up and down. “Hey. Slow down. What's wrong?”

“Um. Really sorry. I lost a little man up my ass.” Kingsley snorted, his shoulders relaxing.

“You had me worried for a second. Again, love? Is that whose shoes are at the door?”

“Yeah. Can you, uh. Try to fish him out?”

“Hmm. How long ago was it?” Had Asim even tried to rescue him on his own? He was already wearing briefs.

“Only like ten minutes.”

“I might still be able to get him. How tiny we talking? Strong enough to put up a fight?” Asim scratched his head.

“Not really. I was just, you know. Letting him eat my ass. He wasn't very deep. He was just really enthusiastic, and I thought it would be harmless if I let him just put a hand in.” He had a bottle of lube in his hands. Kingsley took it. “And then it was a second. I know I should have told him off, but it felt good. And then he was inside, and it was kind of like, you know. He was already in, I might as well enjoy it. And then by the time I was done he was too deep for me to reach.” Kingsley rolled up his sleeves. 

“That’s fine, though, right? It's not as if he'll get hurt.”

“Yeah, but - he didn't sign up for - you know. My guts doing their thing. Things could get a bit messy if I can't get him out.” The lube was cold over his hands. He rubbed it between his palms and starting smearing it up and down his forearm.

“Alright. Assume the position. Let's see if I can pull him out.” He took off his ring as Asim pulled down his briefs. He had made that mistake before. “How small, then? That little six footer you keep on banging on about?” Asim got on his knees at the base of the stairs, looking over his shoulder. Despite the situation, it was a good view. Thick, hairy legs. Meaty glutes. Heavy balls dangling.

“Yeah. About six foot. Dale. You remember him?” Kingsley tugged his cheeks apart and winced. Smelly bastard.

“Whether I find him or not, you need a shower before we eat.” He probed around in the maze of stinking hair. Asim’s hole was easy enough to find. He wasn't exactly tight. Not everyone could lose an entire person up their ass, however tiny. “Dale is the IT guy, right?”

“Yeah! He's really cute. Barely reaches my shins, but he makes up for it in enthusiasm.” Kingsley tugged at a puffy hole.

“Mm. He sounds sweet. Let's have a look.” There was no sign of him from the outside. It wasn't really a surprise, there was no way Asim's ass would have left him on the surface for so long. “You remember we're ordering Italian later?”

“Yeah, I remember. Sorry. I was just gonna let him finish and send him home so I could get ready. Things just got too heavy.” Kingsley pointed his fingers into a familiar position. Asim’s hole parted around him. Into the darkness. A slow, careful advance deeper.

“Hmm. You want him to stay over?” Asim let out a happy exhale.

“Well - fuck, that feels good. Maybe. If you like him.” Kingsley was already up to his knuckles. He carefully twisted his hand around. No tiny man in Asim's rectum. He had already been swallowed deeper.

“Let's see if I can find him first. He might just have to stick it out.”

“Oh, but I'm gonna feel bad if that h - fuck, babe. If that happens.” Asim's hole squelched around his wrist as he got deeper.

“Please. You love little men up your ass.” Asim shuddered around him.

“Yeah, but - like I said. That wasn't - it wasn’t the plan.”

“Before arms started going up holes, huh?” There was something there. Rough fabric. Denim. He pulled it out. Slow and patient. The muscle let him go with a squelch. He inspected his find. A slimy little pair of jeans. “Hmm. I found trousers.” Asim looked over his shoulder.

“Fuck, they're his. Is he too far in?”

“Hold on. I haven't gone deep yet.” He flexed his wrist. “Ready for me to go back in?” Asim glanced over his shoulder. An eager smile.

“Yessir.”

“Calm down, love. We’re not doing a proper scene. This is a rescue mission.” He slowly buried his fist further in. A pleasurable grunt from Asim. He chuckled. “Feels good?”

“Really good. Sorry.”

“I'm not mad at you. I just want to keep track of what I’m here for.” He felt around. Muscle flexing around him. Asim shivered, a moan of pure pleasure. Then Kingsley nudged something. A small form. It twisted at his touch. Something latched desperately onto his fingers. He chuckled.

“There we go. Think I have him.” Asim let out a sigh. Pleasure or relief, it was hard to tell. “Let me pull him out slow so he can hang on.” He started to withdraw. Slowly, his forearm emerged, slimy with mucus. He frowned. The little man's grip didn't feel very secure. He probably needed to hold on himself. “Give me a moment. Let me - fuck.” The little hands around his fingers were gone. Swallowed up again inside Asim. “I lost him. Where are you, lad?” Asim's voice rose.

“I thought you had him?” Kingsley snorted, flexing his hand.

“Don’t get pissy with me. This isn’t my fault.” A deep breath.

“Sorry, babe. I just - you know. Feel guilty. And I don't want to scare him off.”

“It’ll be fine. He wouldn’t have volunteered to eat you out if he didn't like a bit of filth. I think the suction was just too much for him to deal with.” He reached back in. Deeper and deeper, trying not to be too rough on Asim. Was the little man gone? He frowned. Asim groaned roughly. Big toes curled. Kingsley grinned. If the worst came to the worst, at least him and the Asim could have some fun. Before he could make the call, he found the form again. He grabbed on before it sunk deeper. It shifted a little. He breathed out.

“There we go. That's a leg.” Unlike the little man, Kingsley wasn't completely at the mercy of Asim's bowels. He braced and pulled. Steady squelching. Warm, wet walls, pulsating around his arm. Back outside. His hand was easy enough to pull out. Then sloppy muscle clenched over little calves. It was amazing how much Asim could tighten up when there was a little man to tyrannise. Slowly, reluctantly, Asim's hole let him pull a small form out, clamping wetly over every muscle and joint. Mucus and filth, coating every inch. He chuckled. That was satisfying. Asim moaned as the lad started to emerge.

“Holy shit. That feels good.”

“Stop clenching. You're gonna suck him back in.”

“I know. That would be bad, right?” Kingsley gave his ass a slap. Satisfying ripples in fat and muscle.

“You tell me.” A fuzzy little torso. Finally, a face. Asim's hole squelched around it until Dale was finally free. Kingsley sat him up, examining the little form. A hairy little man. Slimy with mucus, mind visibly blown by his ordeal. Asim turned around, ignoring the filth as he pulled the little man into his arms.

“Dale! You ok? I thought I lost you there. I was worried I wasn't gonna see you till tomorrow.” A weak little splutter. “I know, buddy. Sorry about that. We both got a bit carried away. Oh, hang on. This is my husband Kingsley. Kingsley, this is Dale.” Kingsley scanned the little man up and down. 

“Asim was right. You do have pretty eyes.” He offered a hand.

“Um. I'm… dirty.” 

“I know, lad. I just pulled you out with this hand. Don't sweat it.” He enveloped the little man's hand, trying not to crush him as he shook it. “Me and Asim are ordering some food. Let's take a shower, then you can join us.” The little man still seemed like he was on a different plane of existence. Asim half-propelled, half-carried him off, the little man stumbling in front of him. Kingsley stretched as he entered the bathroom behind them, ruffling a slimy little head of hair. “Still shellshocked? You'll be alright. No harm done.”

“Well, I was - inside a person. Inside Asim.” Asim crouched down and gave him another hug.

“I know, buddy. Really sorry. You were doing such a good job, and I just didn't stop you when I should have. You would have come out eventually, it just might have been… dirty.” The little man blinked. 

“You weren't kidding when you said I would need a change of clothes.”

“No, buddy. Come on. Let's get you cleaned up. Then I want the two of you to get to know each other.”

Luke was having a lazy Sunday. He’d gotten snacks, cracked a beer, and had just flipped the TV to catch the start of the soccer game he was planning on watching for the next few hours when his doorbell rang. He sighed, getting up off the couch and heading to the door.

As he opened the door, he saw his downstairs neighbor Bill standing there, scratching his stomach, casually waving with the other. “Hey bud, you mind if I come over and watch the game? My TV just went out.”

Luke sighed, having hoped to just zone out and enjoy himself for the afternoon. It wasn’t that Bill was a bad dude by any means - his neighbor was probably ten years older than he was, and a bit loud, and a bit more of a slob. Not that Luke had a whole lot of room to talk on that front. “Aw that sucks bud, sure you can come in and grab a seat.” Luke said and let Bill walk by him into his living room.

“Thanks bud, beer in the fridge?” Bill said, slapping Luke on the shoulder as he passed. Luke nodded, but was hit just after with a wave of musk as Bill wedged by, scratching his ass as he moved into the other room. It was a mix of stale armpit, sweat, and plain old man musk. It was so powerful, it made Luke’s head swim a little bit, having to take a moment to try to get a breath of fresh air, feeling the strangest mix of lightheaded ness and giddiness from the brief whiff. He made his way to his favorite spot in the middle of the couch as he heard Bill rooting around in his fridge, the lingering smell of his passage still hanging in the room. Each breath, Luke felt himself strangely relax, feeling like he was sinking down into the couch, barely able to focus on the opening of the game on the television.

Bill came back into the room, stopping between Luke and the television, his ass obscuring Luke’s field of view. “Wait, where’s the game? Football’s on channel eight!” He turned around, looking for the remote, only to see Luke on the couch, almost enthralled with the larger man’s presence. He smirked as he watched Luke’s breaths catch, more of Bill’s scent falling off of him. Each breath he took, Luke sunk a little further in his seat, his frame diminishing little by little. “Oh damn little bud, I didn’t know you swung that way. My smell has a certain effect on guys who are into other guys - makes them shrink. I’d say I’m sorry, but you look like you’re starting to enjoy it.” Bill said, noticing the hard lump in Luke’s shorts even as he grew smaller and smaller on the couch, looking like an action figure on the cushion. “That’s the other thing my smell does to guys like you, makes them want to smell it more. Don’t worry, to repay you for letting me watch the game, I’ll give you all you could want.”

With that, Bill turned back toward the TV, remote in hand. All Luke could see was the man’s massive shorts-clad ass descend towards him, and in seconds he was buried underneath it, pressed deep into the cushion of his own couch, surrounded by ass fat and Bill’s pure unfiltered scent. Bill laughed as he flipped the channels over to the football game, and leaned back, cracking his beer open. Before long, the little lump between his cheeks began to squirm, and he knew it was from sheer dumb bliss. He worked his own hand into his shorts, fondling himself as he thought about all the fun he was going to have with his newfound plaything once the game was over. After a few hours under him, breathing in his musk, the little man would be a mindless slave, only wanting more.

An Overbearing Flatmate

Cole moves in with a man who treats his boundaries as flexible.

Cole moved up north in late spring. Everyone was a lot bigger once you crossed the border. It was a strange feeling. He found a flat quickly. One flatmate. A man named Mack. A bit of an animal, but he seemed like a nice guy, even if it was strange only coming up to his crotch. The flat was mostly divided, a kitchen in the middle linking two bedrooms together. At first, Mack had been a good flatmate. He was touchy. A little bit bossy. But he was a good cook, and Cole enjoyed the attention. Then things started getting out of control. He would wake up on the sofa in the giant's lap. The lock on the bathroom Mack promised he would fix just sat there, broken. Quick hugs became full-on cuddle sessions. Cole tried to wriggle out the first couple of times. The bastard seemed to think that was funny. Cole ended up sleeping on his chest in his room one night after one too many drinks, and a few days later Mack packed up his bed. 

“No point using this room for you if you’re going to spend every night in my bed, bud.”

“I pay rent.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ve got a bed, we can both use this room for storage. It all works out.” Cole was quickly discovering that Mack was difficult to persuade when he had his mind set on something, so he gave up. It felt right to curl up into Mack’s side at night and wake up with a huge chest rising and falling beneath him. A couple of days after that, things got out of control again. It was a Friday evening. Cole was exhausted and he needed a shower. He had barely stepped in when Mack opened the bathroom door. Cole scrambled to cover himself, spinning around. “Relax, pup. Only me.” A heavy stream into the toilet. No sound of zipping up. Instead, the shower door opened behind him. A big shadow fell over him. Cole yelped. Ignored.

“Let's see. Hmm. I want to make sure the hot water still goes on both showerheads at the same time, bud.” Fabric hit the floor. “You can watch if you like, bud. I know you like seeing me get undressed.” Cole weighed up his options. Cautiously, he looked over his shoulder. Mack was already shirtless. He kicked off his trousers easily, giving Cole a wink. One of his usual sweaty, stained jockstraps. Mack grabbed his arm and pulled him out a little, shoving the jock into his face, before he tossed it behind him with a chuckle and stepped in, ruffling his hair. His stink filled up the cubicle as he turned on the bigger showerhead above them. “Not too bad. How's yours?” He tested the water above Cole. Cole grumbled as he was wedged further into the corner, Mack’s massive frame filling the space. “All seems to work.” He reached for shower gel.

“Uh. Are you taking a shower as well now?”

“Why did you think I was stripping?”

“Well, I -” Mack lathered up his pecs, flexing them. Soft muscle beneath huge hands. Cole forgot what he was saying. 

“If you’re just going to stand there, bud, you might as well get my back for me.” Mack handed him a washcloth, sitting down. Cole's resistance was more or less broken by now. Vast muscles flexed beneath his hands. A low, satisfied rumble. “Good boy.” He pulled Cole round to his front. Cole felt his throat dry out. He swallowed. “You're a handsome little man.” Mack cupped the back of his head, pulling him in. Cole opened his mouth automatically as huge lips got closer. Then a colossal tongue filled his mouth, wrestling him into submission. His air was running out. He patted Mack’s chest desperately. A snort. Mack let him pull away, thick saliva falling across his chest before the water washed it away, then a huge hand covered his head again and wet muscle invaded his throat. When Mack was finally satisfied, he wedged Cole into his chest. 

“Fair play to you, lad. You’ve got a decent little pair of lungs on you. I would ask if you’re happy, but I think your body is answering that already.”

“Uh. Yeah. I’m good. Well. I’m pissed off.” Big hands lathered him up, ignoring his protests. Cole was already putty in his hands. Meaty fingers squeezed his butt.

“You know, bud, you don’t have to pretend to be mad. Just settle in. Enjoy the moment.” Cole squeezed his eyes shut and shuddered. Mack leaned back against the shower wall, letting Cole fall into his chest, taking on most of his weight. He squirted lube onto his palm and looked down, grinning as Cole burrowed into his giant, hairy chest. Mack took him apart effortlessly. When he was done, he towelled Cole down and ferried him through to the bedroom. 

“But we just -”

“That was just foreplay, bud. Hands and knees now.” Mack was insatiable. By the end of the weekend, every muscle in Cole’s body was destroyed. That was the end of his independence. Mack had him in every possible way at that point, and the asshole knew it. After a few months, there were mass layoffs at Cole’s company. Even after moving all the way up north for them, Cole was one of the first to be fired. Mack, though, was nothing but supportive.

“I only wanted a flatmate for company anyway, bud. Forget rent for a bit.”

“It’s fine. I have savings. I’ll start looking for another job. Up here or down south, whichever.”

“No need, bud. Take a few months, sort yourself out.”

“No, really, I -”

“I said no, bud.” The giant was firm. Cole shut up. Whenever Cole bought up going back to work again, Mack just brushed him off with a chuckle and a ‘Never mind about that, bud.’ Cole had looked for jobs anyway. The first time Mack saw it, he had walked over. A big hand ruffled his hair. “You can't apply for that one, pup. It's too far for a commute. Stop that for a second, I ran us a bath.” An hour later, as he dozed off on Mack's chest with cum leaking out his ass, Cole was too deep in the afterglow to care when he remembered. The second time. Mack had just picked him up and carried him to the sofa, using his tongue effectively enough to wipe all thoughts of work off his mind. The third time was the last.

“If I see you on a job site again, pup, you're going over my knee.” Past experience told Cole this was not an empty threat.

“I’m trying to get off my ass and do some work.”

“It's an insult to me. Am I not keeping you happy?”

“Well - yes.”

“Am I not taking care of you financially?”

“I suppose.”

“And I still work you hard, don’t I?” Cole glared at him.

“Yes.”

“Right. Then enough of that bullshit. It's not long before dinner. I'll sort out the curry, you grab us some naans from the shop.”

“Fine.”

“Fine, who?”

“Fine, sir.”

“Good boy.” Another infuriatingly reassuring pat on the head, then he ferried Cole through to the kitchen. Mack tanned his ass anyway in the end. Cole, though, curled up on his chest just as happy as normal that night, the throbbing of his ass strangely comfortable, the thug’s all-consuming stench blanketing his senses reassuringly. Now he was - a trophy, more or less. Or a pet. Even worse, he had never been happier. He had plenty of free time. Mack gave him an allowance and a card to use for household and grocery expenses. He was free to come and go while Mack was at work, so long as he was back to help him unwind when he was back and keep his bed warm. They went out for dinner most weeks. Mack made a point of supporting all his hobbies. The giant made sure he ate and slept and exercised. It was hard work keeping up with the stinking brute’s sex drive, but that was hardly a negative. Today, he found himself cross-legged on the sofa. There was a massive, dirty jockstrap on the sofa next to him. He wasn’t allowed to wash Mack’s jocks. Not what they were there for, apparently. He wasn’t allowed to tidy up too much, either. Sweeping up and mopping and basic cleaning was fine, but Mack didn’t like the house too tidy. It wasn’t a hospital, according to him, and that meant leaving his dirty underwear around the place was proper etiquette. Mack was due back through the door any moment now, and for some reason he was looking forward to it. He picked up the jock idly, stretching the massive cup between his hands. Yellowed. A little crusty. The smell of sex and man. Big enough to bury his face in. He sniffed happily. Sweat. Piss. Sex. The same virile, filthy stench that covered the entire flat. Mack’s stench. He was pulled out of his thoughts by a big huff.

“Fully lost in my stink, huh? You didn’t even notice me coming in.” Cole fought his way out, giving him an awkward grin.

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry, sir.”

“No harm in it, bud.” He sat down on his armchair, spreading his legs wide. “Come on. Take my shoes off for me. Get some stink from the source.” Massive, filthy work boots.

“Your feet are gonna be fucking rank after a full day’s work though.”

“Fuck yeah they will. Come on, bud.” Cole shook himself off and kneeled down, tugging at Mack’s laces. He had work to do.