Accepting Your Bit

You're snapped back to attention by a loud snap in front of your face by the younger Hob-Goblin. In your entrancement with the Orcish Wo-Mount's cunny, you hadn't noticed they'd finished debating what to do with you. A light shiver went up your spine and you stared up at him in awe. There was a bit of fear there too, and this time it was real. You really could die here...

From the stern look on the rider's face and the smug look of his younger kin, you get the impression that this Hob-Goblin had gotten what what he wanted.

You stare in rapt attention as he reaches into his pack...and he pulls out a wooden stick laced with a leather strap. A pony-bit. You squirm in place, eagerly. He's going to gag you!

"Acha" he commands, shoving the wooden stick against your lips.

The moment you open just a little, they use it as a chance to roughly shove it into your jaw. You struggle a bit, shocked by the sudden object in your mouth. To your shame, you even gag a little bit. Yet, another goblin holds your head from behind until he finishes strapping the bit into place.

When it's locked, you feel him tap on your chin. A command to rise, maybe? You stumble back to your feet, pretending to be clumsy. All the while your tongue explores the new presence in your mouth. You hadn't expected it to be so large. It almost constricts your breathing. You try to open and close your mouth, but the bit provides you with little movement. You're effectively silenced.

You don't have long to focus on that before another, still more exciting sensation takes you. His gross fingers sliding up your leg, tracing your muscles.

"Agana ma jakozk. Mlah fuen," he notes with a whistle, seemingly appraising your muscle. Your heart sweels with a strange pride.

Then his hands drifts up, briefly giving you an angelic touch on the crotch, before continuing on to examine your pectorals. You idly note the first time a man had touched your most sacred place...and he was inspecting you as an animal. Gods, this feels like a dream.

At least now you're passed the tension of your capture, sexy as the uncertainty was. They'll keep you as their mount, or at least try. But just what are they planning to do with you? Would your mind be able to take it?

Your captors give you a pair of rough, hardy sandals, similar to the Orc's. Then, they wrap a scratchy rope tie around your neck to tug you with. However, the curiosity of those simple acts of outfitting are nothing compared to the moment he reaches into his bag, and he pulls our a phallic object, adorned with strange grooves and runes, ending at a series of straps at the base. Your eyes widen. Between your legs you can't help but slicken in anticipation...

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