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purringsquid · 8 months

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You lay still, listening to the conversation, not exactly caring for most of it, but the atmosphere is rather pleasant. You can smell the unease of the gnomes, the fear they have of you and Gortash. You can smell blood on one of them. Your heart starts to race, your breathing quickens and you can feel the urge to kill and slaughter bubbling up. The urge to tear off your binds and jump on them, tear them apart with your bare hands-

And then Enver puts his hands on you, over your heart, between your breast, stroking the skin with his fingers, and just like that, the urge starts to fade. You look up at him, at his face, he is still paying all his attention to the gnomes and yet, he knew you needed to be brought back. No one before had this effect on you. Only him.

Eventually, the gnomes leave – no changes needed to be made to the contract in the end. Gortash raises from his chair, looking pleased with himself or maybe just relieved to have them dealt with. You hear him pouring water and drink. "How are you holding up, dear?" He steps between your legs again, hot hands running across your thighs. "That's a stupid question, no? Of course, you're having the time of your life."

Instead of voicing your answer – which you cannot anyway – you move your knees further apart, giving him your invitation.. or rather an order to hurry.

"Of course, bureaucracy must be utterly boring for you." He chuckles. "Tormenting even."

You forgive him the stupid joke only because he gets on his knees, kissing your inner thigh – though nibbling on it, might have been a better word. He teases your skin with his teeth and tongue, slowly working his way up, until he finally reaches your cunt, teasingly brushing his lips across your clit.

And then a knock comes, and he moves back, standing up and wiping his wet lips. You whine. The urge to kill which overwhelms you now is not in Bhaal's name. You hit him with your knee, signaling him to continue, but he ignores you, walking around you, to his chair again.

"Moment, please!" He tells the damned fool, that had dared to disturb you. He opens drawer, pulling out yet another stack of papers. "Come in!"

A finely dressed human walks in, fright apparent on his face. "Moonmaiden! We must have taken the wrong door!"

"No, I'm pretty certain that's your arms dealer right there." A much deeper voice behind him says. A Half-Orc with the body hold of a soldier, pushes the man inside.

"Lord Hartwin, I assume?" Gortash doesn't let his amusement slip into his voice, but you know he is amused. "You are in the right place. And your friend here is?"

The man, Hartwin, turns to his companion. "Is this normal?" He hisses.

The Half-Orc, unlike Gortash, does not bother to hide his amusement. "Wojtek, head of mercenaries in Lord Hartwin's employ." He nods to the two of them. "Welcome. What can I do for you two?" Hartwin clears his throat. "Well, we heard you had some…special goods. We were hoping to get some for a job we're doing." "Of course, please, sit down." Gortash gestures to the chairs in front of his desk.

"That.. won't be necessary."

"Please, don't let my choice of decor discourage you, I promise she's quite harmless like this." As he says that, he runs a hand over your head, you twitch from it and growl. Making the nobleman jump.

"Discouragement is not the problem, I have." The Half-Orc says, taking a chair by your legs. "Plain and simple, we need siege equipment. I say ballistas, my employer thinks cannons might do the job better."

"I see." Gortash leans back in his chair. "I can get you either, but I'm no military advisor and I don't like my time wasted."

It is clear from their conversation that Lord Hartwin knows little to nothing about battles, let alone war and that the Half-Orc is probably only agreeing to his campaign to scam him off high end equipment. One that Gortash is willing to provide, although the prices he names are a little higher than usual.

It's a fun display, but there are funnier things you could be doing. That is until you feel Gortash's hand running across your thigh. You reward him with another growl, he knows it's encouraging, others however..

"Oh, don't mind me." He tells the lord who looks up from Gortash’s glorified arms leaflet with terror.

Gortash’s fingers find your clit, smearing your own wetness over it, stimulating you with a teasingly slow movement, just enough to make you crave more. A moan creeps up your throat, turning into a yelp as the sharp tip of his glove brushes your most sensitive flesh.

"I-" Lord Hartwin jumps from his chair. "I will look this up outside, if you mind."

"I'm afraid these papers cannot leave the room, but you can consult your employee outside, if you must." Gortash says in all seriousness.

"Yes! Yes, I will do that!" The lord backs off, nearly running to the door. The half-orc is in no such hurry. "I'm sure my employer can consult himself, if you need some help here." He chuckles, eyeing your body.

The growl you give him, is more genuine, although you are not entirely opposed to the idea of Enver holding you down, while allowing others to fuck you, as long as he's the one doing the holding.

"I appreciate your offer but no." Gortash says with the same professional mannerism as always, as if he was talking about canons and ballistae. "Can’t afford to risk having anyone else breeding her." As if to prove the point, the squeezes your belly.

The Half-orc laughs, getting up from his chair. "I get that. I will give you some time then, I’m sure my employer won’t mind. He came early did he not?"

Goratsh x Dark Urge!reader

For kink meme prompt:

Durge loves it when Gortash ties her up in his office and uses her as stress relief in between meetings.

She loves it even more when he leaves her tied with his seed dripping out of her as he conducts those meetings for everyone to see whose bitch she is.

Gortash loves it the most when she acts like he's holding her against her will and breaking her piece by piece, just to see the panic in the eyes of his business associates.

Bonus points if you sneak in a lil breeding kink.

His hands run down your breast to your waist and back up in a motion dangerously akin to worship. Your back are arched, pulling on the straps that hold your hands tied together behind your head, the steel decorations on the edge of his desk dig painfully into your thighs. You welcome the feeling.

He is inside you, ready to claim you, but he is tormenting you with waiting. You wish to curse on him, to snap and bite his exposed neck, to claw his heart of his chest and fuck what's left, but tied and muzzled you can do neither.

"You're so pretty like this, dear." He purrs. You answer by growling. "What would daddy think, if he saw you like this? Would he still believe you to be his chosen champion?"

You twitch your hips, if he won’t do the work, you will.

He laughs. "Eager, are we?"And finally, he pulls back and thrusts in, ending his awful tease. His hands travel down your waist for a last time and stop on your hips, digging the golden tips of his gloves into your flesh, holding you still, as he fucks you into the desk, that rocks with the force. His stupidly heavy desk that had to be carried in by four Orcs rocks with the force of his thrusts.

It hurts and you love it, you feel his cock hitting your insides, giving you the sweetest mix of pain and pleasure. The way only he ever did. Your moans and screams turn into whimpers under your muzzle. He is right, your father would've disowned you had he seen how you tremble under Enver's touch, how your thighs twitch with every thrust.

"I should leave you here-" He is trying to be sinister, but a moan betrays him. "Fill you until you're full of my child, and then knock you up again- ah." You press your thighs into his hips, his words being less of threads and more of empty promises.

He leans over you, and you forget your role for a moment, instinctively baring your neck. He does not mind, though, the opposite; He rewards you by sinking his teeth into your flesh. You let out an embarrassingly high sound through the muzzle. The sensations are overwhelming, and with each thrust he brings you closer to the edge, and gods, yours, his, and others, know you did not believe you could come from cock alone until you met him.

He knows how close you are, lifting his head, his bloodied lips moan a command in your ear. "Come for me, dear."

Your whole body trembles as you come, pleasure spreading through you like a lighting. With a familiar urge to claw into his back and tear his head of his neck, you pull on your restrains, which - luckily for him - hold firm. You barely notice that he had bitten you again. He fucks you through your orgasm, never slowing down. Making you grateful for each time you had resisted the urge to kill him.

With a final thrust Gortash grabs your hips tightly and holds you still as he empties himself inside of you. You can feel his cum spilling, filling every inch of your being with warmth and pleasure.

"See what a good girl you can be." He purrs, his smug tone betrayed by the red cheeks and sweat that stick hair to his forehead. He slicks them back before leaning down, planting a kiss over your stomach. "How I would love to see you filled with child, but alas, I would have to keep you chain down then. And your daddy wouldn't like that. Nor Ketheric."

You hit his side with your knee and give him a performative growl. Just to let him know that he is ruining the mood by mentioning their rotting associate.

Gortash straightens himself and his clothes, before walking away. You hear him open a window, but it does little; The scent of sweat, sex and blood stays heavy in the air. Cold breeze from outside runs across your heated skin, a lesser person might have shivered, you don't.

"My clients should come any moment now. I trust you will behave yourself." He sits down into his stupidly fancy chair, facing your side and the door. When they open, you're going to be the first thing his precious clients see. "Try not to breath too much." He added, half jokingly, as he laid a stack of papers on your torso.

If he heard your answering growl he did not let it show, as a knock came from the door.

"Enter." He said with no hesitation, his voice professional. "Good morning, sir, thank you for- OH-" You don't have to look to the door to recognize a gnome, the voice is enough and if not a voice it's the multiple steps and following 'ohs' after that, that bethray them. They always come in packs. "Is this the wrong time, sir? I- We- I can always come some other time."

"Not at all." Gortash says, smug creeping into his mask of pure professionalism. "Come in. Don't mind the decor." You growl louder this time, more threateningly, it has the desire effect, you hear one of the gnomes scuttle out of the room and shutting the door behind them. Luckily, your muzzle masks your smile.

"I have the contract ready for you, a standard work agreement I'm sure you're familiar with.” Gortash says, ignoring you. He slides the papers off your body, giving you a glance before handing them to the gnomes.

Their leader has to extend his hand over you in order to grab it and you can feel his tremble. He knows who you are, you realize. One of his younger companions is eyeing your crotch, before his eyes widen and he looks away, undoubtedly spotting the cum leaking out of you. The leader gnome shows a paper in his hand.

"Pay attention!" He hisses, before turning to Gortash. "Sir, in all respect, I will have to ask for some changes. Now, I've not read it all yet, but I've noticed you give yourself the right to modify our design. That is not usually a part of a standard work agreement."

"But of course-" Gortash starts with his lovingly professional intrigues. The man would talk the devil into giving him a discount and then killing itself. You respect his talents, but it is not exactly intriguing to listen to.

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