by Eric Vall
Clearly, no one in town minded the delay.
From the edge of my moat all the way down the lane, the streets of Falmount were packed with allies, mages, and merchants, and Haragh chuckled proudly as I sent him a dumbfounded look.
“Dude, by party, I thought you meant something like drinks at the pub,” I hollered above the cheers.
“We’ll do that, too,” Haragh assured me. “But ye’ got five babies on the way! It’s only proper we make a mess of it.”
“How did you get all this together in only one afternoon?” I laughed.
“Turns out, throwin’ yer name around gets just about anythin’ done these days,” the half-ogre chuckled. “Half these mages showed up from the Oculus when the news reached Serin, but wait ‘til ye’ see what the king sent!”
“It had better be a crown,” Cayla purred as she leaned around me with a haughty look, but when Haragh’s grin widened, the princess gasped.
“He didn’t,” I snorted.
“Right this way,” Haragh announced as he crossed the bridge, and he bellowed for everyone to stand back while Cayla dragged me into the lane.
My women didn’t waste any time before they began reveling in the enormous scene our arrival caused, and they strutted through the mob behind Haragh as I smirked at the telltale sway in their hips. The light of a hundred torches illuminated their bare legs and plush figures from every angle, and they’d chosen attire that left their asses wantonly exposed.
Even Shoshanne boldly flaunted her luscious curves in a scant leather bodice that left nothing to the imagination, and Cayla’s breasts were almost fully bare except for the tiny bikini top that concealed her nipples. Aurora flipped her blue hair over her shoulder to make sure she drew enough attention from the cheering crowd, and the way she kept stroking her honed belly the whole time made it hard to keep my own eyes off her.
The three gorgeous women strolled ahead of me like a pack of sexy bodyguards while I nodded to the raucous congratulations being thrown my way, but Deya and Nulena stayed hitched on my arms as they looked down their noses at everyone.
The two women behaved like I was a king instead of a baron as they stroked my biceps with smug grins on their lips, but every time Deya looked up at me, a glittering smile sprang to her face as she let out a silly giggle.
Then we got to the barbican, though, and flames exploded from the battlements while my ears rang from the welcome we received.
Deya couldn’t contain herself as she burst out into applause with everyone else, and while my women curtsied and blew kisses to the sea of allies, I could tell most of my guests had already started drinking. The whole crowd seemed to roll in waves from how many people were crammed in together all screaming at once, and ogres slammed their clubs against the stone buildings as dwarves stood on tables with their maces held high.
The stands I’d seen being set up earlier were loaded with barrel upon barrel of ale and Rosh, but I had no idea when the residents added a platform to the square. I was also confused why twenty castle guards were lining the entrance of Flynt’s Pub, and I couldn’t imagine how the mages had gotten the central fountain to pour out dwarven wine instead of water.
Either way, the Defenders on the battlements began throwing vibrant jets of flame from one side of the market to the other, and while this amped the crowd up even more, the ground shook from the thundering of staves being pounded against the dirt.
“This is one hell of a turn out!” I hollered into Haragh’s ear.
“Yeah, we had to widen the square a bit, but it’ll do!” the half-ogre yelled. “Soon as the ceremony’s done, this place is gonna be a shitshow!”
I furrowed my brow. “What ceremony?”
“Yeah, so… Grot’s been a real pain in my ass about this,” Haragh informed me. “You know he respects the hell out of ye’, and when I told him the news, the agenda kinda ran away from me. I did what I could, but you’ll just have to put up with tradition for a bit. Then we party!”
Aurora gasped as she whipped around, and my other women eagerly gathered around me.
“Please tell me he gets to do the ogre thing!” the half-elf laughed. “Grot’s women told me all about it, Mason, it’s such an honor! You’ll love it!”
“What’s the ogre thing?” I asked, but then I was abruptly hauled away and shuttled into the mayhem.
My allies passed me off with hearty congratulations while my women goaded them on from the barbican, and I felt like I was being shoved through a carwash as I jolted back and forth between everyone. Eventually, I was chucked onto the platform at the other side of the market, but I barely had time to right myself before Grot’s bulbous belly parted the crowd.
A pack of his soldiers lumbered over, too, while his women stalked behind him in ogre formation, and it took all their effort to help the twelve-foot ogre ruler heave himself up onto the platform. The stone warped under his weight as Grot shuffled to my side, and when he dropped a twenty-pound hand on my shoulder, Kurna sent a mini supernova soaring over the market to explode like a firework.
Then the ogre ruler raised his club and roared, “Flynt!” and the crowd quickly caught on as every ogre, dwarf, elf, mage, and merchant roared my name right back with their weapons thrust up toward the heavens.
Grot nodded in approval while the cheering continued, and when he decided it had gone on long enough, he brought it all to an abrupt end with a stern, “Shut it!”
Silence fell in the square and lanes of Falmount as the ogre ruler’s bloody brown eyes scanned the market, and I smirked at the fascination I saw on everyone’s faces while we waited to hear what Grot had to say.
Then he finally began his speech, and I decided it was going to be an awesome night.
“Long have the ogres waited for a brute who could truly master the more vicious sex,” the ruler growled, “and this man right here, he embarked on a conquest never before achieved. The odds were stacked against him, and the chance of maulin’ was high, but he didn’t yield, and now, for the first time in the history of our kind, that conquest has been won!”
I jumped as the ogres broke stones off my buildings from the force of their swinging clubs, and while most of the crowd looked as confused as me, they joined in the ruckus anyway. The Defenders on the battlements chuckled amongst themselves at the chaotic scene, but the ogre ruler let everyone get as rowdy as they wanted this time.
“No ogre ruler has ever tamed as many mates!” Grot continued, and Aurora burst out laughing when my eyebrows shot up. “But today, Flynt’s done us all proud! He’s surpassed every ruler Jagruel has ever seen, and so the time’s come to honor him as we would our own kin. As we would honor a ruler with as much might, as much brawn, and as big o’ balls as Flynt!”
I couldn’t contain my laughter as the cheers broke out with a vengeance, and I could see my women falling all over each other while they laughed their asses off as well.
Then Grot turned to me with a savage grin. “It’s time for The Vork.”
Suddenly, the ogres began banging their clubs on the ground as they chanted “vork” in time like some sacrificial shit was about to go down, and while the dwarves’ maces joined in, Grot gestured across the sea of spectators.
“Bring the leader of your pride up,” the ruler grunted.
“Oh, uh… my pride doesn’t really have a leader,” I admitted. “I love all of them the same, and they each have talents that outweigh another in some--”
“Only one mate’s needed for The Vork,” Grot growled as the chanting echoed around us.
I was about to try and clarify again, but then I heard my women ordering everyone to get out of the way, and they shoved through the crowd as they screeched my name and threw mages aside.
“Me!” Cayla screamed. “Pick me!”
“No, Mason, pick me!” Deya yelled. “Pleeease!”
I chuckled while all five of them tried to trip each other up on their way over, and they came barreling into the side of the platform as the chanting gr
ew louder. Then my women began vehemently trying to convince me they should be chosen for The Vork, and Cayla kneaded her breasts to entice me while Shoshanne tousled her wild curls and batted her lashes.
Aurora was ready to launch into the air, though, as she used Nulena’s head to brace herself higher than the others, and she desperately waved her hand while she said please about fifty times.
“Alright,” I chuckled. “Aurora, get up here.”
“Yes!” the half-elf belted, and my other women groaned in defeat.
Aurora was panting with excitement as she joined me on the platform, and while the chanting picked up pace a bit, Grot instructed her to get on her knees at my feet.
My eyes widened as the half-elf eagerly obeyed, but then she held up her hand to stop Grot from continuing.
“Don’t worry, I already know The Vork Oath,” she assured the ogre.
“Gooood,” Grot growled, and he gave me an impressed nod.
Then Aurora cleared her throat, and she made sure to use a loud, clear tone as she looked up into my eyes.
“Mason Flynt, on behalf of this pride,” my half-elf began, “I pledge our lives, our bodies, and our wombs to you. May your potent seed flourish in the soil of our fertile vessels, and may we henceforth remain as devout as your girth demands.”
My jaw was fully unhinged by now, but Aurora sent me the most shit-eating grin, and she pounded her chest as she let out a thorough grunt to seal the deal. The ogres in the crowd lost it while my women began whistling and cheering their hearts out, and Aurora rose to her feet before she calmly gestured to my left.
That’s when I saw the giant vat of blood Grot was holding out for me, and the chanting resumed.
“Uh… ” I stammered. “What’s all the blood for?”
“The blood symbolizes the essence of your virility,” Aurora informed me. “This is the part where you smear it all over my body.”
“You’re fucking with me,” I snorted.
“Don’t worry,” Grot grunted as he nudged my arm with the vat. “It’s fresh. Only the best for Flynt.”
“The best blood for the man with the biggest pride,” Aurora said with a cheeky grin.
“Yeah, I’m too sober for this,” I muttered under my breath.
Still, I cringed only slightly while I sank my hands into the vat of blood, but then I had to stifle a gag as I realized it was definitely fresh. Very, very fresh.
I didn’t want to know where or how Grot got all this blood in honor of my Vork, though, so I just tried to roll with the punches, and I could tell by the glint in Aurora’s eyes that she was loving every second of this.
My giddy half-elf even giggled when she flipped around to present her bare back to me, and as she shimmied her hips for good measure, I took a steadying breath. The second my hands touched her, though, Aurora let out an enthusiastic moan that made me abruptly draw back.
“Okay, you can’t moan while I do it!” I scoffed.
“It symbolizes my salacious devotion to you!” Aurora argued.
Grot nodded in solemn agreement, and while warm blood streamed down my forearms, I glanced toward the mob of spectators. Everyone was chanting “vork” as they pounded staves and clubs with mounting vigor, and I tried to gauge how many members of the Order were out there right now. The idea of them watching their two leaders partake in a moaning blood scene was awkward enough, and I knew the newest residents who’d moved here to be closer to the action couldn’t have expected to see this during their first week in town. All of this was only half as concerning as the realization that Temin would probably hear about it, though.
Then Haragh sent me an apologetic smirk from his spot under the barbican, and when my eyes caught on the two gaping grins beside him, Pindor and Markus raised four thumbs way up into the air.
“This is not even remotely professional,” I informed Aurora.
“You’re right, it isn’t,” the half-elf squealed. “It’s ceremonial blood bathing! Come on! Smear the essence of your virility on me!”
“Dooo iiiit!” Cayla yelled.
“Yes, this is the only way I want to celebrate tonight,” Nulena chuckled.
“Blood bath!” Deya cheered, and even Shoshanne was chanting “vork” while she pounded her fist on the platform.
“Fuck it,” I sighed, and I dunked my hands into the vat once more.
Then I smeared fresh blood all over Aurora’s shoulders, arms, hips, and ass while she moaned as loud as humanly possible, and when I decided I really couldn’t do anymore, she grabbed my hands and made me finish her belly, cleavage, and thighs.
My half-elf was coated in blood as she moaned and forced my hands to squeeze her breasts a few times, too, and when she finally released me, her bloody arms shot up into the air while deafening roars broke out all over Falmount.
Flames erupted from the battlements as Aurora took a victory strut up and down the platform, and I laughed heartily while she kept her arms raised high in triumph and thanked the crowd here and there. She even did a few turns so everyone could see I did in fact cover her flawless ass in the essence of my virility, and Grot roared louder than anyone while he roughly shook me by the shoulder.
Then Aurora looked my way as she pounded her chest once more, and she let the rest of my pride escort her into the crowd while Dorinick mounted the platform.
The dwarven general’s bushy black eyebrows were firmly furrowed as he eyed my bloody arms, and he waved Grot and the blood vat away while the crowd reeled with the excitement of The Vork.
“Ye’ good?” Dorinick grunted.
“Sure,” I snorted.
Dorinick shook his head in disbelief, but then he motioned for everyone to quiet down.
“Now that shit’s over,” the general announced, “it’s time to celebrate the right way! The dwarven way!”
“What’s the dwarven way?” I chuckled.
“What else?” Dorinick said with a grin, and with a wave of his arm, his soldiers handed up an ogre-size mug brimming with ale.
Then every dwarf in the crowd raised a pint and ordered me to drink.
“Thank the gods,” I croaked, and I gladly chugged my way through the whole damn mug as Falmount ignited with flames.
Barrels were broken into around the market while the mob shoved their glasses under spouts and into the fountain of wine, and as soon as I finished my ale, I was carted toward the pub by Dorinick and Haragh. The castle guard saluted before they opened the doors for me, and when I got inside, my women were already waiting with one of the king’s own crowns in hand.
“My lord…” Cayla murmured.
I smirked as I noticed the blush on her cheeks when she sauntered over to place the crown upon my head, and I didn’t miss the stifled whimper she instinctively let out. Then the princess stood there raking her eyes all over me, and once it became clear she’d forgotten what she was doing, Shoshanne casually pulled her away.
“Anyways,” Haragh chuckled as he gestured to the tables. “Temin thought a valiant man deserved a valiant spread, so there’s all this as well.”
“Fuuuck yes,” I sighed.
If I wasn’t all bloody, I would’ve dived into the nearest platter of chicken wings, but there were at least twenty different dipping sauces out there, too, along with heaping troughs of side dishes. Temin had even sent his cooks to set up shop in the pub kitchens so the wings would keep piling up all night, and as I noticed Deya sniffing curiously at the display, I grinned.
“You have to try these,” I informed the elf. “They’re called chicken wings, and any baby of mine will love them.”
“Okay!” Deya replied.
Then she snatched a wing and popped it into her mouth, and I yelped as I heard her crunching through the bones.
“Wait!” I tried. “You’re supposed to eat the chicken meat off the bone!”
“Deya, spit that out at once!” Shoshanne scolded.
“Why?” the elf crunched. “It tastes lovely like this!”
The h
ealer sent me a wide-eyed look while the rest of my women blanched, but considering two of us were covered in blood, I felt like it wasn’t my place to judge anyone.
Even if someone did seem to be slowly merging their dragon form with their elven one.
So, I forced a smile while Deya gulped the rest of her chicken wing down, and as she smacked her lips with an approving sigh, I gestured to the table.
“There’s dipping sauces, too,” I muttered. “In case you want to wash those bones down with anything.”
“Ooo, that sounds good,” Deya agreed.
Dorinick cleared his throat. “Okay… let’s get all this stinkin’ blood dealt with ‘fore we kick this night off.”
“Good idea,” I chuckled as I turned to Haragh. “I’m not saying I didn’t have fun, but you could have warned me about The Vork.”
“Didn’t think ye’d show up if I did,” the half-ogre admitted. “It wasn’t that bad, though! You know, only ogre rulers are allowed to partake in The Vork ceremony. The rest of us just… mate. It’s the highest honor our kind’s got, and Aurora really gave it her all, too. Most of the ogre-women I’ve seen take The Vork Oath look pissed as hell.”
“That’s because they don’t get to pledge their fertile vessels to men like Mason,” my bloody half-elf declared, and she tipped her nose up. “You may wash yourself if you like, my love, but I will proudly wear your virility for all the world to see.”
“Of course, you will,” I sighed.
“Hey, it’s only fair we get to have some bloody fun,” Deya giggled. “We don’t even get to drink with you.”
“Yes, you’re drinking for ten tonight, Mason,” Cayla informed me.
I furrowed my brow. “There’s only five of you?”
“Mason!” Shoshanne scoffed. “Don’t you think your babies deserve to be a part of your life?”
“Yes?”
“Then I think we both know it would be nice of you to drink in their honor, too,” the healer concluded.
“Maybe,” I allowed, “but let’s not tell them about the time I smeared my bloody virility all over one of their mothers, alright?”