Teasing, Tutoring and Titty Fucking

Days later, you find yourself deep within the dungeons. You are not sure how many days it has been, weeks, maybe, months… you doubt. But you are alone down here… you know there are others locked away but your cell is private, separated from the others. Every so often you hear the faint, muffled cries, screams and most times, moans of others in the less private cells.

You don't know what is happening to them or anyone else outside of here. You don't even know who is alive and who is dead currently, except for Zee'al, who you still have nightmares of their dead body on your chamber floors. Though you suppose it is no longer your chambers… this is your new room, bars and all.

It is not so bad, you suppose. You have managed to secure certain luxuries. The mattress and bedding from your room has been moved down here, what clothing you owned that was not plundered is secure in a wardrobe and you have even received modest meal privileges, but they seem to be delivered at inconsistent times. Not that there is any way to tell time down here in the first place.

The bringer of these meals, and the luxuries themselves, arrives as you think of this. The outer door to your cell opens and admits Vyvian Axefell, the brute of an orcish woman who claimed you as your own. She has with her one of the fine silver trays from the kitchen and a bowl of fruit, cheese and sliced meats along with a bottle of wine.

"Up," she commands in elvish and you obey, standing up from the bed. You used to think she visited you daily, bringing food, drink and, most importantly for your own sanity, her company but you have begun to suspect she visits much more frequently than that. Especially considering you are not that hungry after her most recent visit. "Turn around Bridget, strip, hands on wall, you know drill."

"The wall and the drill," you correct as you follow her instructions. Her elvish has improved dramatically, thanks to your tutelage. That seems to be the main reason she visits you, her desire to learn the language, among her other… less educational desires. "Remember your definitive article."

"Of course… the wall and… the drill," she repeats as you undress while facing away from her. Part of gaining your own clothes was agreeing to new procedures when she came to see you. At least, it is better than the first few visits when you were in chains… though part of you misses the excitement of being bound and helpless before her.

Within moments you stand nearly naked before her, reaching back to unhook your brassiere and freeing your fat breasts from their own prison. As you do, you sneak a glance over your shoulder. You see the hulking orc eyeing you like she is looking at the juiciest steak or most buttered lobster in all the kingdoms. Even her sharp, blue eyes miss your little glance, she is so entranced by your body.

Placing the last of your clothing aside, you stand in a single, last garment, but it is not something you can remove, nor what you would call clothing. Around your waist is a metal belt that is locked in place with a shield across your pussy, sealing it away. A chastity belt. The only chain that remains upon you. Your last binding. And the only thing that has stopped Vyvian from stuffing your pussy full with her huge orc cock.

It is also the blasted thing that has kept you so horny and unsatisfied. At this point, you would brave the cunt-breaker of a cock Vyvian wields between her legs just as long as you could have a fraction of release. It has to be better than being stuck like this. Desperate, needy, horny all the time and unable to get any relief. It has certainly made you compliant and willing to particularly bend over backwards for Vyvian in the off chance she grants you this.

You prove that point once more as you assume the position, hands on the far brick wall, bent back, legs spread and head down. You can see little more than your own, big, fat, brown tits hanging low as your nipples are so hard they could almost slice through the bars of your cell. You notice the shadows shift around you, the sound of the cell opening and then closing, before footsteps approach you, heavy against the cold, stone floor. You cannot help but wiggle your ass a little, feeling your cheeks wobble and then clap together as you lean further down.

A firm palm comes down upon your ass, slapping it and making you gasp as she spanks you. "Stop teasing me," Vyvian growls as you gasp from the smack. She could have hit you a lot harder… but also gentler too as you hiss at the sting that comes across your rear. "You are a… wanton slut." Those last couple words are some vague translations of an orcish word that you are not sure if it is a complement or insult… maybe a little of both.

"You're the one that insists upon me stripping down and bending over before you each time you want to get your dirty mitts onto me," you say and you can practically hear the gears turning in her head as she mules over your words while her hand remains upon your ass. Her big palm can easily cup one of your fat cheeks as her fingers dig into your generous flesh.

"Mitts… short for mittins… gloves… but I am not wearing…. Oh… synonym for hands?" She asks and you nod only to be rewarded with her squeezing your butt firmly. She has asked you to use more unique elvish turns of phrase around her as her vocabulary expands. "I'll show you what my mitts can do."

"Mmmm," you moan, wiggling your ass once more, this time against her hand. "And you call me a tease." You can practically feel her shudder as she growls once more, the unbridled desire from her is electric in the air between the two of you.

"It's not teasing if I back up talk with walk," she says to you in a low voice that makes your whole body tingle. You even forget to correct her use of that idiom as she reaches up and grabs your hair before yanking your head back up and stepping into your personal space. You feel her muscular calves pushing against your legs, her knees practically kneading your ass cheeks like dough and her hand run up from your ass, along your arched back while the other grasp your hair tightly. "You should be careful little half-elf… don't you know that us big scary orcs are not to be tempted and played with like this?"

"I'm not scared of you," you say and realise you actually mean those words. Not only have you gotten to know Vyvian a lot more over your time together but you are so horny you don't think you can feel fear right now. She's also been your only source of company for… you don't even know how long, isolated and alone down here. Somehow you have grown… affection for her… despite being your jailer, the conqueror of your kingdom and a murderer. "I used to be scared of the big strong orc that wanted to break my pussy upon her hole-wrecker of a cock… but I haven't seen her around for a while. Any idea where she went?"

"Bitch I am right here," Vyvian almost roars as her hand on your back reaches around your body and she yanks you up off your feet. You are hurled up off the ground, your legs left to hang uselessly like your tits while your arms remain on the wall, till you bump into an all too familiar protrusion from the orc above you.

Her big, meaty cock slaps against your back, already poking out from her loincloth. It is wider than you first thought, that night when she first had you, and long enough to run from your butt all the way to your shoulderblades along your back. Goddess it feels heavy against your body.

You can't even fathom how such a monster could be crammed into your little hole. But you are so turned on and it has been so long since you were belted, denied any release from your constant state of arousal, that you frankly don't care anymore. You would let her try and fit a tree trunk inside you if it meant getting this belt off… though her cock could put smaller tree trunks to shame.

"You feel that? Remember how it had you quaking in your bindings? Begging me to not stuff you full? Or do you need more of a reminder?" She spits at you and you tremble beneath her.

"Goddess… yessss… fucking do it… coward," you pant as you struggle to get the words out. You have learnt little of her culture, not for lack of trying, but know that goading one and challenging their abilities is not only a big part of it but almost expecting between any relationship, friendly or not.

"Or are you… not up to it? Got… cold feet?" You say and hear her growl in a way that signals confusion and is also a demand to explain. "Cold feet… means when you go to do something and become fearful or timid… it can sometimes refer to wanting to or actually backing out of something you claimed or agreed to do. Like right now… with all your big talk and no walk."

"Wellllll," she growls the elvish word, drawing it out in a way that makes your heart flutter. "Maybe it's time for some big walk." You tense as she says this and dare to hold your breath as you wait in anticipation. Any moment now you expect to hear the jingling of keys, then the hand to come down to your chastity belt, and finally the click of the lock before it falls away and she… only none of that occurs. But… why? What more is it going to take for her to give in and give you what you most desire? She was not shy about it the first time she tried to lay with you?

"You can't do it," you say as you, suddenly, gain insight. She breathes in sharply and you know you have hit the nail on the head. "You don't even have the key to my belt… do you?" She rumbles, her whole body trembling, you feel it in her hand that holds you aloft, as she growls like the cat unable to catch the mouse. "All your talk… really was just talk. You don't have the power over me you claimed."

You feel her grasp around your torso tighten, the hand in your hair yanks it back sharply and you yelp. "I may not have it yet… but one day…"

"One day?" You exclaim, daring to cut her off before you chuckle darkly. "One… fucking… day…" You can feel the tension rising here, not just sexual in nature this time, more aggressive as you continue your outburst. "You have got to be kidding me." She growls again, more confusion but you can hear the rage bubbling up to. "It is an expression of surprise or disbelief… which is appropriate for this. You lied to me."

That crossed a line, if there is one thing you have learned her culture hates more than anything, it's being called or implied to be a liar, you knew it even before the words left your mouth but you did not care. You are simply too horny and now too darn frustrated that every attempt to get you what you need has been for nothing. You will live with the consequences. And consequences they will be as she immediately lifts you further up in the air, over her head and chucks you down onto your mattress.

Without your bedframe the fall is a lot further than you expect as you tumble down onto it, the springs bowing and almost throwing you back off of it as they bounce back beneath you. You barely regain your sense of spacial awareness before Vyvian is storming towards you. Every muscle in her body is tense. Her blue eyes are narrowed as she glares down at you. The veins in her green forehead pulsing almost as much as her tree trunk of a cock. That is another thing you have learned about orcs… aggression and arousal… they can be rather interconnected.

She leaps down onto you, the mattress groaning loudly in protest and you surely would have been thrown from it this time if she had not landed upon you. She could have crushed you there and then but she is surgical with every moment she makes despite being in a body that could crush boulders with but a flex. Another orcish trait… something you can only describe as precious muscle control and bodily awareness on a level you have never seen in humans or elves.

She demonstrated this by pinning you down with muscles that could have crushed your bones to dust if she wanted to. Even if you were not locked in a cell, there was no chance you could escape her. Her large hands grab your body, massaging your huge breasts roughly, something that has always been a focus of her but she doesn't neglect the rest of your body either as the other hand moves down and gropes your large, fat ass.

Vyvian has commented several times on how much she enjoys your thick body, especially the way your breasts, ass, thighs and belly extend out from your form but she is not one for words right now as her actions speak louder. She kisses you, bearing her tucks, grunting and growling between almost sucking the life out of you as her large tongue pushes into your throat. You can feel the rage in her lust and despite your disappointment at still being locked away, it thrills you.

She breaks the kiss before you pass out, leaning up and pressing her monster of a cock down into your lower abdomen. You bend and lean up into her. Thrusting your crotch up and rubbing the cold metal of your chastity belt against her muscular legs. You whimper, pathetically and out of breath beneath her, pouting up at her with a pitiful expression.

"Don't give me look," Vyvian murmurs, her elvish more broken than normal as the rage and lust is still palpable. "I hate look. Like sad, staring wolf cub… only want to fuck you rather than feed you."

"The only meat I am hungry for… is between your legs," you manage to gasp out as you bring your knees up and squeeze her big, mighty, orc cock between them and your chubby thighs. She goes from growling to groaning as you practically rut up into her. "Come on… throw a girl a bone."

"You… you know now… I can't even… we can't fuck," Vyvian splutters at you. "You are… how did you put it last time? Barking up the wrong tree."

"Oh good use of that… with the wolf metaphor and all," you praise her as she looks down at you as if you had truly lost your mind. "But a muzzled dog can still run."

"I don't… know that idiom… or metaphors… or… proverb?"

"That's because I just made it up," you say and she frowns at you.

"Stupid, made-up langaue…"

"All languages are made up."

"But none are as stupid as elvish."

"I would say the same of orcish but you won't teach me any."

"Because I need to know yours, otherwise my mother won't let me keep coming down here to…" Vyvian fell silent as she let slip a piece of information you had been prying at for every visit since she first demanded you teach her elvish.

You open your mouth to ask more only for her hand to reach up and silence you, one of her large fingers slipping in between your lips. She curses in orcish and you simply smirk around her digit before suckling on it and even giving a moan. You watch her whole body shiver before she pulls her finger free from you.

"Are we going to keep arguing or are you going to fuck my thighs or something again?" You ask and she once more looks at you with anger.

"You are being such a… is there even an elven word for… whatever the fuck you are acting like?" She growls at you as you purse your lips at her with a smug look. "I tell you I can't give you the one thing you hoped for, my only real bargaining chip I have with you, I know how desperate you are to be unlocked and fucked properly and you just… just act like… you still want me to fuck you? Take pleasure for myself when you miss out? And you are even teasing me and… goading me… poking me like an idiot would poke a sleeping bear?"

"The word you are looking for is brat, plural brats and adjective bratty," you explain without missing a beat. "And I am acting this way, one, because how the fuck else am I going to respond? I am already more horny than I have been in my whole life, what's more of the same? Two, at least I can enjoy the ride even if I don't get to cross the finish line. And three, I, honestly, enjoy pleasing you and if making you angry and riled up will get you to stop pussy-footing around… it means being a coward… similar to having cold feet… then fuck it.

"So stop being such a bitch and have your way with me. Who gives a shit if I am locked up and denied my pleasure? You can still have your way with me… I know you love my tits… don't you want to finally have them wrapped around your huge fucking cock? What about having me lick you again? You flooded my mouth with cum last time and I only barely suckled on the tip.

"Or are you still butt hurt over letting a little bit of information on what is going on outside these four walls slip… to the former princess… now your prisoner… literally helpless and unable to leave… who only you see and have contact with… big whoop… what the fuck am I going to do with that info? Write a newsletter? I hate to break it to you… no one I can tell about it but you and I literally could not do anything with that info even if I could leave here."

You don't know how much of your rapid speech Vyvian caught. Her elven language skills have improved dramatically and they were already fairly sharp but you think she got more than just the gist of it. Her face morphs from confusion to lust, to rage and finally to acceptance.

"Your tongue is sharper than my axe," she says, a rough translation of an orcish saying you gather. "If it had been you on the throne rather than your mother, things may never have come to this." Another piece of information to file away but she seems more comfortable sharing this one. "Too bad that I have a better use for that sharp tongue."

She suddenly rolls over, flipping you with her. Vyvian is quick to rearrange herself while you recover. She sits, propping herself up with your armory of pillows, and pushes you down to her crotch. You end up on your knees, hands on her thighs, her massive cock in your face. Without being asked, you get to work. Licking and drooling upon the head of her pulsing member.

"Good whore," Vyvian sighs with affection as she puts her hands down, one upon the back of your skull and the other at the base of her cock. Even her larger than life fingers cannot fully wrap around the base of her monster. She guides you along her cock, directing your mouth like little more than a toy while you diligently lick at her sensitive skin. "Make sure to get me nice and wet… I want to slide up and down between your fat, brown coconuts…"

Her words become a mix of elvish and orcish as you service her cock while she continues to rant and rave about everything she will or wants to do to you. It is like pleasant background noise as you follow her orders. You coat her cock in your saliva, licking up and down it, trailing kissing along the shaft, spitting upon the head and then enduring as she uses your head to rub it across her dick. It is a massive effort but you are dedicated and she is just as determined to make you accomplish it.

Only as she pulls you back, leaving you gasping and breathless, her cock shimmering with your spit in the dim underground lighting, do you stop. "Good work," she says simply and you feel a thrill of pleasure at her praise. "Your turn now… hold up your fat knockers… that's a good elvish word by the way… knockers… though yours I imagine would be a better fit for orcish doors… so much bigger than your cramped, little elvish ones."

While she prattles on, you do as she asks. Your little hands barely manage to lift up your breasts as they overflow from your fingers, the flesh so heavy and your head spinning with arousal as you shift about on the mattress before her. She purposely turns your head away before leaning down and spitting onto your breasts. Her saliva is so hot, thick and plentiful. "Spread them apart," she grunts and you obey before she spits upon and between them even more. "Rub."

Silently, you follow her commands, rubbing her spit on and between your boobs till they glisten with it. "Good slut," she growls and you swell with pride before she slaps her cock against your face. "Now put those fat fucking tits to work."

"Yes… Mistress," you say and she frowns as you get a good hold of your breasts. "Female term for Master, among other meanings… but that's the applied one here." Before she can respond, you wrap your tits around the head of her cock and watch as her face breaks into one of pure please. "Feel good?"

"Damn…" She moans before gasping something in orcish as you rub your breasts up and then down the head of her cock. "... It's better than I imagined."

"Oh?" You say teasingly as you bring your breasts down once more upon her cock, this time till the head of it pokes out from between your valley and you can breathe out over the wet, green bulge. "Imagine this sorta thing with me… often?" She grunts an affirmative. "Do you daydream about me? I know I have many fantasies of you. Not much else to do in this dank, damp cell."

You rise and fall, dragging your breasts up and down along the head of her cock and the very top of the shaft. "I like to think of you skulking down here while I am asleep… opening my cell door. The squeak of it barely stirring me from my slumber. And before I can fully awaken… you jump on me and take me in the dark… tear off this chastity belt and plunge this big, brutish, green cock of yours into my poor little cunt," you lay out the scenario to her as she grunts and groans.

You see her hands turn to fists as she trembles before you. It feels empowering to have this effect upon your captor. "What do you imagine?" You ask and see her eyes glaze over.

"I imagine that first night… when I found you… naked and bound… I fantasy… fantasise about what would have happened if… I had been more patient," she actually struggles to get the elvish words out, a couple orcish ones slipping in before she corrects herself, as the pleasure builds within her. "I would have unbound you… you would have struggled… I would have held you down with ease… I would have taken you then and there… I would have shown you your true place beneath me… upon my… cock… broken you properly… made you into my cock sleeve…l bred you… ensured you would be… fat with my children."

You are drooling as she describes this to you, luckily, her cock is between your breasts to catch it as it drips down from your open mouth. Your pussy aches and you cannot help but moan as you watch the massive head appear and disappear between your breasts while you bounce up and down. You come down low and the cock brushes against your lips but more importantly you feel her heavy balls slap against pelvis. They are not far from your drooling cunt, the only thing really separating them being the metal of the chastity belt.

"I wish you had," you whisper, your voice husky and breath hot against her wet cockhead making her shudder. "I wish you would." You kiss her cock before falling back into the familiar motion of rising and falling, your breasts hugging around her thick pole while you kiss and lick it each time it comes up to meet your lips. "I would happily be your fuckhole rather than your chaste slave."

"The only thing chaste about you is that belt," Vyvian growls and you feel a fire in her eyes as she gazes down at you. "If it were not for the decree of my mother… I would be breeding you as we speak… I might well have you permanently bound to me… body stuffed with my cock… all day, everyday… you wouldn't be the first elf or human to be treated like that."

Your ears almost prick up as another bit of information is shared with you but she is either too focused on what you are currently doing to care or has stopped worrying about what information you gain. "I am guessing she has my key?" You ask and although you don't get an answer, you see the truth of your statement in her eyes. "Mmmm. Too bad… I know this feels good… but I bet it can't even compare to my virgin, half-elf pussy."

"I'll take what I can get," she groans before reaching down with her large hands and placing them over your tits. "Hold on… I want to really fuck your knockers… properly." You release them to her and watch as she firmly pushes them together around her cock, holding you by them. Even if you wanted to escape, her iron grip prevents you from leaning away as your boobs strain within her grasp.

She gives a growl before thrusting forward. Her cock slides between your boobs like it is on ice. So powerful and steady with each push before she pulls back and fucks you again and again. Your mouth is still open and you lean down, teasing it as it barely touches your inner cheeks, the full head of it not even fitting between your lips as you kiss and lick at it once more. Vyvian lets loose, channelling all her rage, desperation and passion into this act.

Soon your mouth is flooded with her semen and then your face splattered with it followed by your hair before finally she paints your tits and a good portion of your abdomen too. Her loads are so big and thick. It's like what you imagine a dragon must deposit. A true shower of cum that leaves you caked in it. You will be tasting it on your breath for hours to come, even after eating, and your body is going to smell like it, like her. She has marked you with the scent of her cum. It makes your poor, trapped pussy weep.

Vyvian helps you to clean up once she comes down from her high. Using one of your silk sheets to wipe what she can from your skin. She will take that with her and have it laundered, you have more than enough spares. She also promises to bring hot water and a tub next time with her to wash your hair after matting it with her sperm. You thank her and try to hide your disappointment at your own dissatisfaction with not being able to achieve release but it is plain for both of you to see.

Still, she tries to make it better in ways you assumed before now were teasing you, snuggling with you, holding you close, feeding you the delicious food she brought with you, sharing the wine, but now you see may be what little comfort she can offer you. You have long suspected that her mother, the so-called warchief, was pulling the strings between you but she has practically confirmed it to you. You will say one thing about Vyvian, she brags about being able to hold her drink, the ales and meads of her homeland, but she struggles with elven wine that has been aged for multiple generations, numerous mellenia.

You are able to pry her with the wine. You drink more than your fair share, knowing your tolerance for it is not only in your blood but something you have built up since you were a teenager. You watch as she becomes slooper and slooper. Her elvish becomes poorer, she takes longer to answer and respond to you, and her eyes become less that of a predator and more of cattle. You don't want her completely wasted, that is not your goal, just happy and unfocused enough that you may be able to put an idea of two into her head. Now is your opportunity, what do you tell her?