Directly onto the dildo, which nudged almost rudely at my warm and tingling cunt, more insistent and clumsy than the orc's wonderful tongue had been. He folded my knees up to the platform, settling me in my seat and testing the height of the chains.

"Do I get to use my hands, master?" The name was still awkward on my tongue every time I used it and felt more like playacting than the chains or his mouth on my cunt.

"No." And then he stood again, and I understood the need for the platform. He was too tall for me to kneel on my own and still suck on his cock, but now my face hovered in front of his crotch, barely covered by the flippant little leather skirt he wore, massive thighs on either side of my cheeks. Large hands in front of my face reached for the clasp of the skirt belt. His thighs were radiating heat, and I wanted to press myself to their muscles, seeking warmth and more of that soft, dense texture of his skin.

And then the leather parted, and I sat back, notching the head of the toy inside of myself as I gaped at the cock in my face. It was not quite as thick as the bulb at the base of the dildo but certainly much larger than anything I'd navigated before. I wasn't sure I'd even be able to—

"Open." The orc stepped closer, and the smell of him here at his cock was rich and sharp as a leaf pile and just a hint nutty, like his breath had been.

My mouth seemed to press shut even tighter in response to the order, and claw-tipped fingers reached out to grip my chin, lifting it up until those fire spots in his black eyes were staring down at me.

"Pet. Ride the cock beneath you and open your mouth."

Of the two, the dildo was less intimidating, especially since the snarl of the orc's voice only made me wetter as he glared down at me. The platform I knelt on was padded, allowing me to sink in and holding me steady as I bared down on the silicone until I felt it pinch and stretch at me. The orc's fingers tightened on my chin as I rose up again and opened my mouth at last, leaning in and licking around the broad, rounded head of his cock.

The bite of salt and the flavor of dark, bitter walnuts pooled on my tongue, and I hummed. He just barely fit between my lips, and he was only an inch or two in before my jaw and gag reflex started to protest at my mouth being so full. I pulled away with a gasp and stared at the length before me. I couldn't swallow that cock—it would kill me, surely? But I could be creative.