Hear them out.

"WHAT?" Your hole clenches, pooping your finger back out.

"There are some formalities," admits Karug. "Lodge stuff."

"Rites of Brotherhood," Gurak growls low in your ear, milking your big, fat cock through your greasy loincloth with your own hand.

"But we accept. We will mate you," Karug assures. "You need to breed. To finally bust your nut, right?" You nod uncertainly.

Gurak half lifts you, drawing you back onto his spread lap, so that your finger tip is trapped between his grinding bulge and your sticky, quivering hole. "We have ideas for that you have never known were possible," he growls, grazing your bared throat with his tusks.

"If you can keep a secret," Karug qualifies with a smirk, still leaning over you, his big sweaty pit smelling just like it does and making you a little dizzy.

"And can do what you're told," finishes Gurak. "Got it, Bro?" He uses his hand on your captive dong to slide your ass along his, stroking himself hard beneath you.

This at last dislodges your fidgeting fingetip, and you finally find the hard words. "But you are male! I am male! We are Orcs!"

Karug guides your idle hand to your own lips in a "hush" gesture. You fall duly silent, shyly darting your tongue over your dry lower lip between your tusks, totally not licking your butthole-finger on purpose. "Half-Orcs," he corrects. "Doesn't matter. Wbat does is that you are Half-Elvish, Bro. Male Elvish. Just like us." He grins a depraved, perverted grin. "You know what Elves just cannot resist?" he riddles. "Even the dudes?"

"Especially the dudes," Gurak growls, licking across the nape of your neck as he bucks and grinds, stroking your quivering hole with greasy leather and your own skid-marks, untucking your cock to spring free, wrapping your hand around it with his own. You suck your fingertip, afraid to say anything to break the spell.

Karug frees his own meaty eleven-incher virtually under your nose. "Orc cock." A dim shaft of light from the falling sun slants in through the dusty air, to gleam from a clear bead of sticky liquid gathering as a fat droplet on the shiny steel gauge of his cock-ring. "Go ahead," he says permissively.

Over your shoulder, Gurak growls, "Do it."

"We all know you love the taste," Karug observes. You can feel the heat of him, and his scent is deeper here. You lean in, with parted lips, for a full, savoring lick with the flat of your tongue. As you do, Gurak mirrors the lick along your neck, presses with his tusks, sucks and licks at your sweaty skin softly. Sticky sap flows down over your hand as he milks your drooling dong with just the pace you love to set for yourself. "It's not like you didn't let us watch. Suck it."

Well, it's not anything you had ever expected to be told at your First Breeding, but you did give your word. And anyway, since that first lick, you really, really want to. Kurag tastes amazing. Better than his armpit. Better than your own butthole. You shiver, bucking in Gurag's slow, pumping fist and grinding along his big, stiff Orc-cock.

Holding Karug's teasing eyes with your own big, clueless ones, you open your mouth, and lean in.