Beg him to destroy you

"Are you sure that this is what you want?" He holds you by your collar, grinding your face into his dank crotch where his rank, shaggy sack hangs from under his shaft, his full, hard, hairy length towering over you, toying and teasing your hot, sticky hole.

You hold his gaze with your wide, pleading eyes, seeking permission to submit, as you nuzzle in open-mouthed to tug out the sticky tangles with your tusks, licking, sucking, huffing yourself into a delirium of cock-lust on his scent. Your ass arches back, and you feel your dirty hole take a sticky grip on his teasing fingertip and you let yourself nod your admission.

"Not good enough," he says sternly, jerking you up by your collar to slap you across the face, hard, with the full heft of his brutal cock, leaving a welt and a sticky smear of pre. "Say it." He swings back with another blow, just as hard, on the other cheek, but his fingertip at your hole is still teasing, tender, circling, plucking, playing at slipping inside you.

"Please, Dad? It is what I want..." You cringe at your own tone. You are of age, a mature Orc of the Breeding caste. But some other side of yourself has awakened at your father's touch, his scent, his taste, the sheer dominant size of his thick, hairy cock in your hands, stroking a drooling drizzle of slick-sticky pre-seed to spill over your parted lips and restless, teasing tongue. Your father glares down at you, weighing your words, still slowly circling, pressing, and rubbing, keeping you aware of your hot, sticky, brown butthole as the focus of your compelling need.

"You know it cannot be undone," he says gravely, wiping his cock with your face as though you were his cum-rag before letting you return to nuzzling around the matted tangle of his pubes, rooting with your little tusks and wallowing in his dank, musky, male scent. "Your first Breeding, son. The first of many. Your need will never go away, never even diminish." Your hole shivers, tenders, tenses, trembles under his touch. "You do this, now, and that is what you will crave, and the more you give in, the more you will want."

"But Dad," Your voice trails off into a pleading whimper, "Please? I need to cum so bad." You are nuzzling all along his big, brutal cock, all the while staring up, seeking approval, rubbing yourself with his raw, rank, unwashed Orcish scent. Your ball-sack, sodden with your own pre, churns and seethes and somewhere up inside you is a dull ache of need. "I do want to. "

"You want me to pound this hole until I flood it with Orc-cum, son?" As rough and callused as his fingertip is, darting, playing at sinking deep only to pull away, painting your fluttering butthole with its own sticky filth, he shows the talent of a seasoned Breeding Orc, rousing the flesh and degrading the spirit to a peak of soul-breaking lust. You raise your ass higher, and your own untouched cock twitches and drools.

His smile at your display is knowing, scornful. "You want me to take hold of you by your mating instinct, and then break you like a cheap toy?" His finger presses, skids through filth, smears it slowly into your trembling pucker, watching your face all the while. "Turn you into a bottomless pit of shit and shame, just so you can cum?" He brings your lips to the crown of his sex, too big for your mouth to hold, to nuzzle and lick at and suck, glossing your lips with pre.

"Unnhmm," you moan thickly, then licking your lips, and licking his cock. "I want it! Please?" You muffle a whine, sucking softly.

"Dooming yourself forever, a **** to your lowest, most base and filthy cravings?" The contempt in his gaze is crushing, but somehow as your pride crumbles, your need only grows more urgent. You feel yourself wriggling and squirming under his finger, your body pleading on your behalf, but his touch remains agonizingly slow and patient, intent on your utter surrender. "All you could be, reduced to nothing more than a cum-drunk, cock-craving, shit-hole?"

By now, his pre is dripping from your chin, a sticky glaze trapped and held by the thin, faint whiskers which you had formerly been so proud to show off to him. You think how you must look now, sucking at the Orc-cock that sired you, and savor every harsh word. "I need you to, Dad! Please?"

"You understand that, when I have finished," he continues, relentless that you understand all that you ask, "When I slide my spent cock from your shitty fuck-hole, I will take you, and use your mouth, your tongue, to wipe myself clean?" You shiver and whimper, and nod, and nuzzle and suck, begging with your eyes. "And not just my cock, but these stinking nuts, even my asshole if I feel like it?" You tongue and suck harder. "While your own quivering fuckhole bubbles and shits out a flood of cum to soak your sack, begging to make me ready to take you, and break you, all over again?"

"Yes, yes! All of it! Please, Dad! I need to cum!" You realize you are actually crying, and that finally seems to satisfy him.

"Good," he finally says, with a last, brutal cock-slap that makes your ears ring. "You deserve it. Now get over here."