AN OFFER FOR THE OGRE LORD
Copyright © 2015 by Jamie Westlake
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Cover stock licensed and adapted under Creative Commons 3.0:
www.ranum.com
All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.
The Ogre Lord studies her briefly, suspicious, his strong jaw tense. He subconsciously flexes, sending a ripple through the muscles of his powerful chest and arms, tensing the mass of his body, revealing the play of abdominals beneath his bulky stomach – not fat, but fit and powerful in a different way, far more raw and primal than some human poser.
The Ogre Lord heads for the table, to where the young man from the village rests on hands and knees. She can still see the concern on his face, but that concern turns to something beyond pleasure as the Ogre Lord lowers his head to the young man's exposed ass and gives it one strong lick, the powerful tongue sending sensations through the youth that he has never experienced before. The young man bucks wildly, lost in pure pleasure, and above the curves of his ass, the eyes of the Ogre Lord bore intently into her own.
-*-
'Lady Seer? The Mayor will see you now.'
Maleka's eyes snapped open, breaking her foresight gaze, and she smiled knowingly at the young servant before her. He was the man from the dream – an adult, but a young one, of twenty two or twenty three summers, still largely new to the ways of the world, his face smooth and unblemished, with a thatch of blonde hair crowning his head and his cheeks bare.
She had Seen him, witnessed exactly what lay within his heart. Desiring other men was not tolerated in these parts, she knew, but the vision had also given her the gift of how to rescue the young man from his plight. She gave him a wink as he led her into the chamber, but he simply stared blankly at her with wide-eyed innocence.
No matter, she thought, he'll soon grow up.
As she entered the chamber, the servant closed the door behind her and remained outside. Maleka glanced around the room – it was fairly well-appointed, for a small town, and the man who sat behind the desk was not as she had expected.
'Greetings, Lady Seer,' he said, and stood. Maleka had certain ideas about what to expect of a mayor, but this man was none of them. He was still in his physical prime, with a warrior's body, and his hair was close-cut above steely blue eyes. His strong jaw betrayed a powerful bloodline.
'Mayor Whitewater?' she asked, to be certain. He nodded. 'You're younger than I expected.'
'Am I?' he returned, smiling slyly. 'You're just as beautiful as I had heard.'
'Does that often work?' She matched his crafty smile, gliding toward his desk. She saw his eyes sweep her body, taking in the curve of her breasts that could be seen above the cut of her dress, down to her exposed midriff, and the flashes of leg through the split-seam of her dress as she walked.
He answered her question with one of his own.
'Do you know, they call me the Mayor of Bastards in the nearest three counties?' His smirk spread into a grin. 'It's not undeserved.'
She ignored the chair before the desk and rounded it instead, drawing close to the mayor. His leather breeches were tight, gathered around a generous bulge. He drew close to her, his breath warm on her neck.
'How can I help you?' he breathed softly.
'I believe I can help you,' she murmured.
'Is that so?'
He began to plant soft kisses on her neck, which slowly grew more intense, until he was kissing her as a lover might. Her hand snaked around the back of his head, grasping it, encouraging his affections, and she slid her other hand up under his tunic, feeling the ripple of tight muscle there.
'You have a problem,' she muttered, between gentle gasps, 'with a beast.'
He nipped at her, growing increasingly hungry in his actions.
'Mmm...' he purred. 'What manner of beast?'
Her hand slid from his head and down the length of his back, a tingle of magical energy dancing from her fingers causing him to draw a deep breath, until finally her hands reached the curve of his ass. She pulled him close.
'I hear it's an Ogre Lord,' she whispered. 'Wild...deadly...powerful....'
Her hand slid around to his front, to his straining bulge.
'...huge.'
'And what would you do about it?' he asked, his mouth close to touching with hers, his breath warm on her lips.
'Take control,' she hissed, and the mayor flinched as she lightly bit his lip. 'Dominate it.' She squeezed his bulge a shade too tightly, and he gave a slight whimper of pain. 'Show it who rules here.'
'Perhaps we can arrange this,' he whispered. 'Perhaps we could even offer you some form of...reward.'
She kissed him as she began to unlace his breeches.
'I would be forever grateful...' she murmured.
-*-
Before a day had passed the mayor had rounded up the able-bodied men of the village, armed them, and led them to the fortress of the Ogre Lord, which lay embedded in a crag at the foothills of the nearby mountain. There were a few dozen of them, and they crashed through the ogre's gates without meeting a challenge – the fortress appeared to be empty. When they reached the main chamber, however, the Ogre Lord was there, waiting for them.
The chamber was long, and the Ogre Lord stood at the far end, but even from their position they could see he easily stood at least ten feet tall. In one hand he carried a heavy, rounded wooden club, and in places over his slate grey skin he wore iron black armour, including a large helm.
The villagers raised their assorted weapons - pitchforks, axes and the like, as the ogre began to advance toward them.
'Humans here,' it said, its guttural voice rumbling through the air of the chamber, the pulse of it resounding in their chests. 'This one demands to know why.'
Mayor Whitewater stood forward from the group, answering the challenge. He was the only one in full armour, and his voice was muffled by the steel helmet he wore. He brandished a sword with a rune-traced blade.
'I am the Mayor of Whitewater,' he declared. 'We have come to end your tyranny over this valley.'
The ogre gave one hollow snort of disbelieving laughter from within its helm. Then it laughed some more, rising to a deep, bellowing guffaw. The villagers looked uncertainly at each other. Maleka took a step forward.
'Ignore him,' she said to the ogre, and glanced dismissively at the mayor, who turned toward her in shock. 'I bought you a gift in good faith. I propose a trade.'
The Ogre Lord stopped laughing to stare at her.
'What's the meaning of this?' the mayor hissed.
Maleka smiled slyly at him, and the mayor was quick on the uptake.
'Witch! Seductress! We've been betrayed! Kill them both!'
The villagers lunged for Maleka, but her Charm was already in place, and in the same moment they made to attack her, they seemed to forget she was there at all. Instead, with Mayor Whitewater in the lead, they charged at the Ogre Lord. The ogre seemed entirely uninterested, taking their strikes on his skin and armour both without flinching, one by one picking up his attackers and throwing them around the room. Maleka felt heat gathering in her stomach at such an impressive display of brute strength.
As the villagers fell back to regroup, the ogre grinned beneath his helm, and reached up to unbuckle his armour. Piece by piece he dropped it to the floor, taunting them, and finally he dropped his helm, leaving him standing in just his kilt. Maleka drank in the sight
as he unveiled a body of thick muscle. It was not defined muscle like that of a human athlete, but a bulky, primal kind of muscle, its arms and legs filled with the promise of hidden power, like the trunk of a vast tree. Its grey-blue skin occasionally glinted, like rock catching the light. Its powerful red tongue appeared from between its lips and tusks, licking them with delight. Maleka could see the taut bulge in its kilt, as a gigantic erection strained against it from within – for an ogre, combat and sex are two sides of the same coin.
The ogre moved toward a door at the rear of the chamber, casually picking up two screaming villagers as he went. He threw them into the room, slamming the door behind them and letting the heavy bar fall. The remaining villagers attacked again, but it simply grabbed them a few at a time and threw them into the chamber also, each time locking it behind them with a bar too heavy for the humans to lift. Finally there were only a few left. One of them was the mayor's servant Maleka had met the day before, who was hanging back, terrified.
'Leave that one,' she said, pointing to the young man. The ogre threw one last villager into the chamber, and glanced at Maleka. Finally he took a seat at the long table dominating one end of the room.
'Other humans quiet now. This human talks.' He gestured at Maleka. 'Explain.'
Maleka spread her arms wide in a friendly gesture.
'I bought you a gift as a show of good faith. Food enough for a few weeks, I believe? And now we can talk of trade.'
The ogre frowned at her, suddenly distrustful.
'This one isn't stupid,' he said, gesturing to himself. 'This one knows your human tricks. The human must offer proof.'
Maleka smirked to herself, seeing the moment finally arrive.
'I will,' she said, and turned to the young servant. 'Now's your chance to shine.'
He looked at her blankly. 'Me?'
'Indeed. What's your name?'
'It's Oskar...'
'Isn't this what you want, Oskar? For some big, strong man to take control of you?'
He stuttered, suddenly going red, but Maleka could see the answering bulge growing in his tunic as ten thousand hidden desires suddenly rushed for a gate that was slowly opening...
Maleka smiled reassuringly.
'The affections of other men are hard for a man in your country to find.' She gestured at the ogre, which watched them both with interest. 'But this magnificent specimen isn't a man, and doesn't live by the standards of one.'
'You mean...?' The servant looked between Maleka and the ogre uncertainly.
'I mean he could have you, if that's what you want.'
By now the young man's bulge had reached a full erection, the line of his shaft outlined by the thin fabric, his cock head just about visible in the material. The ogre stood again, back to its full height.
'The man will come here,' the ogre said, and with one sweep of its massive hand it cleared the table before it.
Again Oskar looked at Maleka for guidance, and she spoke in a soothing voice.
'You'll be fine. You want this,' she said, and she wove a charm at the same time, not to change the man's mind, but simply to allay his fears, like the advice of a friend. Oskar nodded, and slowly began to approach the table. The ogre watched him intently, and Maleka could see a vast something straining against the kilt the ogre wore, which brought a fire of passion to her own senses, flooding down between her legs as she imagined the size and power of what the Ogre Lord had hidden there.
The young man finally reached the table, and with a motion far quicker than his size seemed to allow, the ogre suddenly leaned across and snatched Oskar up in his arms. Oskar screamed suddenly and kicked his legs, but the ogre set him gently down on the table.
'Peace, human,' it said, its voice rumbling low. 'If this one intended death, you would be dead.'
Oskar stood on the table, staring dumbly, as the ogre looked him up and down, seeming to drink down the sight of his young, tender body.
'Turn,' the Ogre Lord said. 'Hands and knees.'
'Yes, lord...'
Oskar turned as he was commanded, sinking to his knees and then to all fours, his wide, nervous eyes locked on Maleka, while his ass faced toward the creature, leaving him unable to see what the ogre had in store for him. The ogre's huge hand grasped at Oskar's ass and squeezed, drawing a grunt of surprise from the young man, his eyes suddenly slamming shut. The ogre raised its other hand to his ass, and Maleka could hear the tearing as the youth's breeches were ripped in two, the ogre throwing each shredded half to the floor, leaving Oskar's ass bare and at the ogre's mercy.
Maleka slid her eyes closed, muttering an incantation. A moment later she opened her eyes...but only because Oskar did so, and now she looked out of his eyes, seeing her own body staring back as she hitched a ride in Oskar's thoughts. She could feel the ogre's heavy warm breath on his ass, the straining stiffness of Oskar's own cock hanging underneath him, the flutter in Oskar's stomach as he fretted over what would come next, the nervousness overpowering but somehow only enhancing his arousal. His cock twitched, and Maleka could feel it as pre-cum gathered at the tip.
Oskar felt the ogre's head lowering closer to his ass, the musky smell of his sweat heavy in the air around them, his strong breath teasing sensation from his skin and bringing a shock of pleasure through him as it touched his hole.
The ogre's hands pulled at the curves of his ass, exposing his twitching hole. The ogre's face moved in close, and with his inhumanly powerful tongue he began to lick at the hole. Oskar's gasped at the feeling, so strange and yet so right, the powerful muscle teasing his hole in a way he had waited his whole life for, the kind of pleasure he had dreamed of in quiet moments as he stroked his cock, fantasising that he had seduced the butcher's boy, the blacksmith's apprentice, or even the mayor himself.
The ogre's tongue lapped at his hole with such force that Oskar's hole body moved with each long lick, and Oskar found himself moaning involuntarily, ignorant of his strange surroundings or of Maleka still watching him – he felt her presence in his head, but let her be, simply content to show her what he was feeling. His body continued to rock with ogre's tongue, and Oskar's hand drifted toward his own cock, sliding down its length to grip it at the base, squeezing his fist with each new lick from the ogre. He ran his hand up to the tip, swiping pre-cum from his slit and bringing it to his mouth to taste the sweetness of it.
The ogre withdrew its head suddenly.
'Don't stop,' Oskar moaned, surprising himself.
'This one isn't stopping,' the ogre replied, and Oskar felt a new feeling at his hole, wetter but thicker, and he glanced wide-eyed over his shoulder to see the ogre's hand at his ass, ready to press inside him with one huge thumb.
'Oh gods,' Oskar murmured, as the wetness pushed open his tight hole, the tip of the thick thumb sliding inside him. 'Oh gods! Oh fu...ahhhh!'
Oskar's cry died into a wild moan as more of the ogre's thumb slid into him, as thick around as a large human cock. Oskar had toyed with himself in this way before, ready for the day a rugged man would take him, but this was something else entirely, more primal, more wild than he had expected, and far hotter.
'The human enjoys,' the Ogre Lord said, and Oskar replied with a wordless affirmative that was nearly a groan.
'Please, more,' he whispered, and the ogre let out a snort of laughter, pushing the thumb in deeper, beginning to slide it in and out more rapidly, fucking the young man's hole. Oskar lost himself in the sensation, the rolling waves of pleasure the motion sent through him, the insanely forbidden nature of its source, knowing this was something he could never have dreamed of, that was far more taboo than he could have imagined. Oskar began to stroke his cock furiously as the ogre's thick thumb continued to fuck him, filling him near to bursting, carrying him away into a haze of pure sensory overload.
Maleka could feel Oskar's orgasm building up inside him, his balls going high and tight, a pressure rising in the area the ogre was stimulating, like floodwaters behind a dam just waiting to burst,
and Oskar stroked his length faster and faster, more desperately, grunting and groaning and crying out in the name of the gods, completely absorbed.
'Ah...ah...fuck, I'm going to- I'm going to- AHHHH!'
Oskar convulsed around the digit inside him as he came, his load shooting onto the table beneath him, rope after rope, an explosion of bliss tearing through his body, through his heart, ensnaring his mind in a star-burst of elation as his cock pulsed and throbbed, the ogre pushing deeper, deeper, milking every last drop of his orgasm.
Finally the pressure began to die away, into an almost painful sensitivity, leaving Oskar whimpering as the ogre's thumb slowly slid out from inside him. Oskar's head dropped as he tried to catch his breath, and beneath him he saw the long trail of his cum on the table, the drops still falling from the tip of his erection. Completely spent, Oskar finally lowered himself to the table, feeling his warm cum beneath him.
An Offer For The Ogre Lord Page 1
