Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The journey to Moonrise Towers had taken the party through a forest thick with old trees, and old ruins of castle forts. The inhabitants long since gone or withered away, leaving nothing but crumbling masonry and sprawling tree roots to overtake them. The party had set up camp a bit early, but Dmitri and Connie had decided to explore further into the old keep. Connie was fascinated by it all, seeing the dilapidated banners of a kingdom left to ruin. Something about it felt…familiar? The rot and ruin of it all, it tugged at her amnesiac mind. But for the life of her, she couldn’t place why. Not to mention, thinking hard in just about any capacity made her head pulse and ache.

Though, there was one subject she liked thinking a great deal about; Dmitri. He was so smart compared to her, and he seemed to be one of the few party members who could match her strength. Above brains and brawn, he was so nice to everyone! He just seemed to get the world in a way Connie didn’t, even with the cultural differences between the surface and the Underdark. The thing she liked the most? He didn’t judge her for the Urge. Sure, he had a stern talk with her after certain events after the tiefling party. But he looked at her, really looked at her, and expressed a deep empathy for her wellbeing. He didn’t have the look of a disappointed owner admonishing a bad dog, rather he looked at her like a bad dog himself. His disapproval wasn’t him putting himself above her, it was him desperately trying to push her to be better. It made her heart flutter in her bare chest, and pulled a wistful sigh from her lips.

Unfortunately, her musings also stole away her perception, and with rather bad timing to boot. Dmitri tries to warn her about the loose cobblestone she was about to step into, but his voice broadcasts a second too late for her ears to hear it,

“Connie!”

The floor gives slightly under her weight, and she goes tumbling forward as her arms flail,

“Dmitri!”

She exclaims in panic, unable to gain her balance before colliding arms first into a crumbling wall. She braces for the impact, waiting for the awful prediction of what being crushed by heavy stones feels like. She squeezes her eyes shut, feeling something give way as she falls forward. However, something stops her from falling all the way to the ground.

Dmitri catches up to her in time to see the tumble, but can do little to stop it from occurring. As she falls forward, she dislodges a few large bricks in the wall. However, it seems the ones that are load bearing are still in place. He runs over to assess the situation,

“Connie! Are you alright?”

Through the wall he hears,

“I’m okay! Though I think I’m stuck,”

Dmitri swears under his breath, “Shit! Alright, don’t panic. Can you brace yourself against the wall, and try to shimmy forwards or backwards?”

Connie nods, even though he can’t see it, “Uh-huh, I can try!” She says, partially muffled by the wall.

Try as she may, she’s unable to move herself forwards or backwards. She lets out a groan of frustration. “Yeah, I’m stuck like, like,” She pauses in thought, “That weird white stuff Gale used for his spellbook?”

Dmitri chuckles quietly, “Glue?”

She snaps her fingers, “Yeah!” She went to turn to give Dmitri a smile, but the wall prevented her. She groans in frustration again,  “Argh! Stupid wall, you’re blocking me from talking to Dmitri!” 

Dmitri found her statement rather sweet, chastising a wall like a disobedient pet. He tries to think of another solution to getting her out of the wall. Perhaps she doesn’t have enough strength to push herself out due to the angle? “Alright,” He starts, “Let’s try something else. I’m going to grab your legs and pull, put your arms out forward and prepare for a bit of sliding,”

She nods again, bracing herself for Dmitri to pull, “Okay!”

Dmitri grabs both of her legs, braces his heels firmly on the ground, and heaves with all his might. Unfortunately, the only thing that comes loose from his display of strength is–

RIPPPPPPPPPPPPP


“Son of a Lathandarian whore!” Dmitri swears outright, stumbling back onto his ass with the now torn shreds of Connie’s pants.

Connie shouted from the other side of the wall, “Am I unstuck?! Also, why is it colder here now?”

Dmitri tries to figure out a way to explain what happened, but he’s stopped dead in his tracks when he sees her cock flop out from the remaining shreds of her pants. How in the hells did she even walk with that between her legs? Let alone wear such tight leather pants?? Dmitri finds the words tumbling from his lips before he thinks better to keep them, “You have a cock?”

Connie stops struggling for a second, and despite her face and hands not being visible, he can feel the bashfulness lining her voice, “Oh!” She scrambles a bit, trying to use her legs to cover her cock. “I hadn’t meant for you to see that,” From the other side of the wall, she’s blushing like a tomato.

Dmitri tries to reassure her a bit, “Hey, it’s okay! If anything, you can blame me for pulling too hard in the wrong place.” In spite of the circumstances, he finds himself eyeing the rather lovely cock between her legs. He feels a bit bad, but his eyes can’t seem to look away.

She scrambles a bit less now, seemingly defeated as she lets herself relax in her newfound position. “I had hoped to, well,” She begins, though she speaks too softly for the rest to be heard.

“Come again?” Dmitri asks, giggling quietly at his choice of phrase.

“Well…” She begins again, before groaning in frustration, “I wanted you to see it, when I’m not stuck in a stupid, stupid wall!” She thrashes fruitlessly again, groaning now in defeat.

The realization that Connie wanted him to see her cock? It stoked the fires of something oh so devious in his belly. He walks up to be within her personal space, and gently places a hand on the small of her back. She jumps a bit at first, but feels reassured by his touch. She giggles a bit, “Heyyy, uh, what’re you doing?”

Dmitri chuckles softly to himself, “With your permission, I think I can help make you relax~, until we can find a way to get you out of that wall,”

Connie weighs the options, and asks in return, “What, like a massage or something?”

Dmitri stifles the involuntary giggle that statement pulls, “Kind of? But instead of your back,” He then reaches down gently, and palms her cock with his hand. “I massage this spot real good~,”

She moans softly, yet again nodding in spite of Dmitri not being able to see her, “Yeah! That would be like, super relaxing right now,”

Dmitri brings his hand up, spits in it, and begins to massage Connie’s cock within his grip. It slowly begins to harden with each stroke, growing warm and wanting beneath his ministrations. Connie moans softly, feeling herself grow warm and fuzzy. It makes her giggle, which piques Dmitri’s curiosity,

“What’s so funny?” He asks, continuing to jerk her off. 

She speaks between giggles, “Nothing! It just feels so niceeeeee~,”

Dmitri frowns yet smiles in confusion, but simply takes her on her word. Sex wasn’t always passionate screams or declarations of pleasure after all. And perhaps, it had been some time since he had laughed during sex. He adjusts himself to sit beneath her, grabbing her cock at a new angle as it twitches with need.

By this point, she’s fully erect and sporting a pearl of pre-cum at the head of her cock. She’s moaning outright, and Dmitri has half a mind to worry that it’ll draw attention. But considering his axe is within arm reach, and his pointed ears have yet to fail him? He lets the thought fade, in favor of making the big, pretty woman squeal with desire. “How does it feel Connie~?”

She moans on the other side of the wall, “It feels, feels,” She regularly struggles to find the right words in her day to day life, let alone while she’s having her cock stroked so nicely, “It feels really good. You must stroke your cock a lot to be this good!”

Dmitri giggles a bit again, unsure of how honest to be with his answer. Sure, he stroked his t-dick plenty, and occasionally jerked himself off while wearing his magic strap-on. He flicks his wrist as he responds, "There's more truth to that than you know sweetcheeks~,” Before she had a chance to respond, he spat in his hand again, and sped up his pace.

This has an immediate reaction, make her legs nearly buckle as she fucks into his hand. She was a fit of euphoric giggles, moans, and pleasant sighs as she braced herself against the wall. Due to her lack of memories at the moment, she couldn’t remember if she had had sex regularly, let alone masturbated. She couldn’t tell if her being so close already was due to a dry spell, inexperience, or if Dmitri’s handjobs were just that fucking GOOD. Whatever the case was, she felt that pool of warmth in her belly, and it was growing fast.

“Dmitri, I think, I think I’m!” She moans from the other side of the wall, making Dmitri grin wide.

“Yeah? You wanna cum? I bet you’re just aching to empty your balls~,” Dmitri teases, flicking his wrist at the moment he strokes past the head.

Connie giggles, “I’m aching to cum, not empty my balls, silly!”

Dmitri has to stop himself from outright laughing, and to focus on the task of making her achieve climax. She wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, nor the first couple runner-ups either. In spite of all that, he was rather enamored by her, and the charm that rolled off her like a breeze in the meadow. He decides to be a bit cheeky, leaning forward to put the head of her cock between his lips, and continues jerking her off. He rotates his tongue around the head, sampling the salty pre-cum.

Her legs almost give out completely, pistoning her hips into Dmitri’s ministrations as she moans outright. Words are lost on her as her climax outtakes her mind, getting only a few good thrusts in before she cums with a long moan. Her cum spills out onto Dmitri’s tongue, coating his mouth as it cascades down his throat. He continues to milk her for all she’s got, moaning in self satisfaction he watches her visibly relax.

And like some unforeseen switch being pushed, Connie slides unceremoniously out of the wall, and onto her ass. Dmitri manages to dodge the mass of fellow Barbarian at the last second, crawling over to make sure she’s okay. He checks her for injuries, but the only thing noticeable is a ring of dirt and small rocks clinging to her waist. Not to mention the fuck drunk grin on her face, and the dust of petal pink on her cheeks. “That was fun!” She giggles, before gently tackling Dmitri.

“My turn to suck your cock~,” 

Chapter Text

Thomas was a man of a stone-faced disposition, being about as welcoming in presentation as a rain soaked brick wall. That much is to say, Dmitri and Thomas were about as opposite as two men could really be upon first impression. Where Dmitri was warm and friendly, Thomas was cold and wary to trust. The first thing they truly shared in common? A short fuse, to an even shorter temper. They didn’t outright fight, rather there was something of a kinship to be found in a shared hairpin trigger. Soon, the both of them became familiar with what pissed each other off, and they began to step in for one another. When Dmitri encountered anti-Drow sentiment, Thomas stepped in to defend him. When Thomas experienced bigotry from being perceived as poor, or anti-Sorcerer sentiment, Dmitri stepped in to defend him just as fiercely. Slowly but surely, the two began to understand each other. 

That understanding soon became a friendship, decorated with the stories of how both men came to be as they are today. Dmitri spoke of his century in Menzoberrazzan, Thomas, now comfortable being called Tommy, spoke of awakening the storm within himself, and the fallout that came from it. Tommy hardly wanted to admit it, but it was damn nice being able to talk to someone who wasn’t wallowing in their own misery. Sure, the gangs of his youth had helped him, and he’ll be forever thankful for putting food in his belly and a roof over his head. That being said, they were hardly great for conversations that weren’t; Plotting the stupidest crimes imaginable, complaining about being treated like dirt, or near incoherent ramblings about nonsense. Dmitri was different, and that difference drew Tommy in like a moth to a flame.

For all the ways Tommy was described as cold, unwelcoming, or downright standoffish, Dmitri would find such descriptors as far away from his tongue as the other side of the world. Bathed in the warm light of the flickering bedroom candles, his dear Tommy was downright hot against his back. His hands wrapped around Dmitri like a well-worn blanket, snaking towards his most intimate areas like the promise of a hot day. Sweat gently beaded at Dmitri’s forehead, while Tommy’s arms glistened in the yellow-y orange light of the tavern bedroom afforded to them. Tommy sat against the headboard of the bed, with a very lovely Drow sitting between his legs. The Drow in question spoke up,

“Is someone getting shy~?”

Tommy feels the goading question stoke something with him. It feels like a pocket of warm air on a summer day, pushing it way up, up, up into the sky. And as it travels up, it takes with it the sincerest promise of a thunderstorm. Normally, this feeling would frighten him, and tell him to get the hell away from here. But with Dmitri, he didn’t have to hide it, to try desperately to capture that pocket of air. He let it rise, feeling the innately familiar process of a storm building within his very being. He feels the ice crystals and water droplets begin to clash, a battle as old as the dirt itself, and the electricity begins to charge within his fingertips.

“Me? Shy?” He teases into Dmitri’s pointed ear, nibbling the pointed shell between his teeth, “Get real~,”

Dmitri giggles at the gesture, sighing in pleasure all the same, “Then touch me~, I grow impatient,” Tommy cups Dmitri’s chest, not quite letting the lightning loose. Not yet, at least. Dmitri moans quietly, feeling the tell tale vibration of electricity beneath Tommy’s fingers. His pussy all but drools arousal onto the bed, an aching anticipation pulsating in his lower half.

“Now now, patience is a virtue love,” Thomas purrs into Dmitri’s ear, “You really are a needy little thing~,”

Dmitri giggles, feeling Tommy softly knead his chest, “To deny it is to make myself a liar. And the only thing I detest more than liars is poorly grown mushrooms,”

Now it was Tommy’s turn to giggle, “I shall endeavor to grow mushrooms to the greatest ability ever achieved,”

The two are both giggling by this point, all while Tommy massages Dmitri’s chest, occasionally rolling his nipples between his fingers. “Mmmmm, speaking of growing mushrooms,” Dmitri teases, “I think someone’s getting just as impatient as I am~,” He grinds his hips back slightly, feeling the warmth of Thomas’s hard cock resting on the small of his back.

Thomas couldn’t deny it either, even if he tried. So, he decided that giving Dmitri what he wanted was finally worth moving his hands away from his chest. Down, down, down they journeyed through the valleys and mountains of the Barbarian’s midsection. Ripples of muscles greeted his hands, before a familiar, ambrosian part of Dmitri’s body delighted in the company of his fingers. His pussy was warm to the touch, with his T-dick jutting out proudly from it. The reaction was near immediate, with Dmitri’s thighs briefly tensing, and a hiss of relief jetting past his lips. Thomas wets his fingers on the sticky arousal clinging to Dmitri’s other set of lips, speaking a thousand words of desire without so much as a syllable spoken aloud. He takes his sweet time playing with Dmitri’s T-dick, gently stroking it between his knuckles.

His other hand gestures for Dmitri to prop his legs up, allowing said hand to better access his arousal-slickened hole. He gently prods the hole with his fingers, speeding up the one playing with Dmitri’s T-dick, “Ready for the magic?”

Dmitri nods, “Dazzle me baby~,”

Thomas smiles, before finally letting the buzzing beneath his fingertips go. It’s not all of the lightning, not by a long shot. But just enough, enough to give a right shock directly towards Dmitri’s T-dick. He shakes for a moment, and an exclaim of astonished pleasure left Dmitri’s lips. His pussy dribbles onto Thomas’s fingers, proof that he was definitely into this.

He chuckles, warm and breathless into Dmitri’s ear, “And here I was worried you were all talk about this kind of stuff,”

Dmitri regains himself enough to huff a laugh, “Told you I’m a kinky bastard~,” He briefly shivers in pleasure, “Do it again, electrify my pussy~,”

Thomas nods, “Yes sir~,” He concentrates, allowing his hand to shock Dmitri’s T-dick while they other begins to finger his pussy outright. He does it in slow intervals, so as to not overwhelm Dmitri, or potentially do damage. The other hand begins to delve 2 fingers between the Barbarian’s warm, velvet walls, a soft schlick sound greeting his ears with each gentle thrust. Dmitri’s reaction is visible, audible, and tangible to Thomas, making his erection sit between his legs with a growing impatience. The Drow moans outright, shivering in pleasure with each jolt of electricity delivered to his most intimate area. “C’mon⁓,” Dmitri goads Tommy again, “Unleash the storm in those fingers, make me feel it⁓,”

Thomas chuckles involuntarily, “You really are a kinky bastard,” Before Dmitri can give a snarky response, Thomas decides to start channeling the lightning in both hands. The shock of electricity within Dmitri’s pussy almost makes him double over, knocking the air from his lungs as he howls in surprise. His thighs shake, and his hips thrust to gain more of the stimulation. It’s equal parts painful, and equal parts mind scrambling. Dmitri leans back onto Thomas, resting his head on his shoulder. His eyes are crossed while his cheeks flush purple, “Thaaaaaaaat’s the good stuff⁓,”

Thomas smiles, and begins to rub Dmitri’s T-dick whilst he fingers his pussy more fervently, all the while sending controlled currents of electricity onto it and within it. Dmitri is far from quiet, shamelessly rolling his hips into Thomas’s skilled hands. He keeps his legs propped up, spreading himself wide for his pussy to be played with. From all the teasing Thomas had done earlier, it’s no surprise that his climax was building up hard and fast. 

Thomas chuckles to himself, “Someone’s getting eager,”

Dmitri tries to say something cocky, but Tommy’s fingers were doing a number on his pussy. All that comes out is a moan of approval, his head nodding up and down as he feels himself dribbling onto the bed. Everything is coming to a fever pitch, and the constant lightning being zapped onto his most intimate areas is becoming too much to bear. The words to announce his climax get jumbled up and lost to the outer edges of his waking consciousness. Dmitri seizes up, quickly thrusting his hips as best he can into Tommy’s fingers, begging incoherently before a final wail to the ceiling seals his fate. 

His pussy gushes onto the bed, as Thomas delivers one last jolt against the tip of his T-dick, and to the spongy area within his pussy that drove Dmitri wild. The Barbarian moans endlessly, all while Thomas works his fingers over his pussy to carry him through his climax. Once Dmitri relaxes underneath his touch, he goes to grab the cloth on the bedside table. He’s stopped in his tracks, when Dmitri grabs him, and flops him onto the other side of the bed. He now lays in front of Dmitri, opposite to the bedframe that previously cradled his back. Dmitri eyes him hungrily, straddling his hips with a gleam in his eyes, as a question falls from his lips,

“Have you ever tried casting your lightning through, shall we say, other places⁓?”

Chapter Text

Gogash was a man who kept his emotions in check rather well, all things considered. This makes sense, of course, being raised in a Monastery in the high mountains. Still, he was a testament to restraint and temperance amongst his peers. Even when the side comments of his race prickled at his ears, tempting him into action. In spite of all the odds, Gogash grew up to be a man of deep devotion, finding inner peace to the best of his abilities, and drawing upon such serenity for when he found himself in battle. However, beneath all that poise and level-headedness, there was an itch. An itch that he longed to scratch, one that his fellow Monks would find a bit, distasteful. 

He longed for a fight where he didn’t have to keep his strength in check, to keep his anger buried under layers and layers of practiced decorum. He wanted to truly throw himself at someone, full force and unbridled. And to trust that they would do it right back, and have fun while doing it. But to find someone like that? It would be like finding a needle in a haystack, and the haystack is the size of the Sword Coast. Little did he know that on the worst day of his life? His search for such an opponent would come to an end.

Dmitri had just finished putting Gogash on his ass for the umpteenth time that evening, having picked up the Half-Orc like he weighed nothing, and thrown him into the dirt with an ear-to-ear grin. Gogash tries to get up, but the soreness from being so thoroughly beaten prevents him from doing much more than a half-assed sit up. “Had enough yet?” Dmitri teased lightheartedly.

Gogash briefly coughed, “By the Dawn, you fight like a beast on the loose,”

Dmitri smiles, crouching down in the dirt to speak face to face, “Awwww, now you’re just buttering me up,” He extends a hand out, helping Gogash to at least sit up. “C’mon, let’s hop in the river and get cleaned up. Least I could do for handing you your ass on a silver platter⁓,”

Gogash shakes his head, “There will be time for cleaning up. Let us take the time to simply sit, and be one with the world.”

Dmitri rolls his eyes, but smiles and sits down with Gogash, “I suppose I could humor you. Never could say no to a pretty man asking me to sit down⁓,”

Gogash chuckles quietly, the low, timbre sound rumbles in his chest like a far off thunderstorm. “I am a pretty man?”

Dmitri nods, “Ohhhh yeah, you’re a real looker alright. Big, strong, and those tusks?” He whistles a singular note, “I know at least 3 friends back home who would commit heinous crimes for a night with someone like you,”

Gogash chuckles again, waving his hand dismissively, “If I knew not of your honest nature, I would dare to call you a dishonest man. But, I shall take you on your word, as you have proven it to be as good as your right hook,”

It was Dmitri’s turn to chuckle, “Damn right!” He throws his head back, laughing as he stares up at the stars. Gogash looks over, and feels his heart beat faster in his chest. Dmitri was already a good looking man, but Gogash found that he looked his best just like this. Sweaty from a good fight, beaming with joy, and barely clothed. He had forgone his usual stripper attire, in favor of a simple pair of black shorts, and some fighter tape wrapped around his hands and feet. His hair was disheveled, and his face was clear of any makeup. Gogash took a great deal of joy, seeing Dmitri is such a rare state of being. In some ways, it felt like this version of Dmitri was made only for him.

Something he liked about this version of Dmitri in particular? His musk was much stronger, since they often sparred in the evening, and his perfumes had long since worn off. And when he truly exerted himself, Dmitri sweated accordingly. The rules for Elves sweating went a bit above Gogash’s head, but he understood well enough that they sweated in either moments of peril? Or moments of great physical exertion. Dmitri didn’t often sweat during the fights to keep the party alive, with some exceptions. Instead, it seemed that saltwater stored within him only came out when Gogash gave him a good run for his money. And once Dmitri’s skin began to glisten, that oh so lovely smell found Gogash’s nose. And with it, elicited a deeply sexual response within the Half-Orc. 

Gogash finds himself leaning forward, trying to catch more of that alluring smell, when Dmitri looks back down from the night sky. The pair are much closer than they were before, within Gogash’s actions putting his face mere inches from Dmitri’s. He realizes how awkward that just made the evening, and is about to excuse himself when the Barbarian puts a hand to his shoulder. “See something you like⁓?”

Gogash attempts to stammer out an excuse, but nothing fruitful comes to his lips. Dmitri smiles, sweet and sincere with an undertone of devious intent, “I was wondering when you would try to come onto me,” He giggles at his own choice of words, “In more ways than one⁓,”

Gogash is something of a quiet man, opting only to speak when he feels the words are something meaningful. Even now, the words coming to his lips are frustratingly diverse, unable to come to a clear, cohesive message. His heart beats even faster in his chest, and the sweat begins to bead again at his forehead. When he finally finds the words, they make him slightly cringe at their forwardness,

“You want to have sex with me??”

Dmitri takes a moment to consider the proposal, giggling as his shoulders shake, “Well duh! I just sang praises of your good looks not even 10 seconds ago, and you make for a damn good partner to tussle about with in the dirt,”

Gogash is still a bit awestruck at Dmitri’s casual approach to such a subject, “But, but we’re covered in dirt and sweat,” He says that like it isn’t the reason he sports a half chub every time he spars with Dmitri. Was it self-projection? 100%. 

Dmitri gently tackles Gogash, putting him on his back as he straddles the Half-Orc’s hips, “Oh yeah? Someone can’t deal with a big, sweaty, muscular man⁓?” He places his hands to either side of Gogash’s head, putting his armpits well within viewing range for him. The smell hits Gogash much harder this time, and he can’t stop the involuntary reaction to catch a whiff. He only realizes his error when Dmitri grins down at him, smug and self-satisfied. 

“You like armpits, don’tcha Gogash⁓?”

He accents this teasing by shamelessly grinding his ass against Gogash’s crotch, already feeling something poking up from his pants. Gogash was at his wit’s end already, presented with so many of his deepest sexual desires. A man who was strong, confident, and above all else? Glistening from head to toe in sweat. The universe may call him a weak man all they like, but he will happily indulge a sexual appetite that has been all but starved. 

Gogash boldly pushes himself up onto his elbows, burrowing his face in Dmitri’s left armpit, all but huffing the salty, earthen scent gathered there. The moan that exits his lips is deep, guttural, and sounds as if it was rooted from the very core of his being. His cock all but jumps within his pants, bumping into Dmitri’s shapely ass. Gogash’s eyes roll back into his skull, as he gives into his most basic instincts. 

Dmitri giggles in surprise, shifting so Gogash has a better angle, “So I guessed right! I was wondering why you would always sneak off to your tent after we sparred. Did you rub one out to my particular brand of sweat⁓?”

Gogash didn’t even have it in himself to try and lie, speaking truthfully between inhales of Dmitri’s sweaty armpit, “More times than I could count,”

Dmitri makes a delighted noise of surprise, “Awwww, I wish you had said something! We could’ve doing this waaaay soon Big guy⁓,”

Gogash chuckles between moans and sniffs, “You say that, as if you are not a man built like a mountain,”

Dmitri laughs outright, “Ooooo, someone’s getting smart⁓, does huffing my armpits imbue you with a pair of sassy pants?”

Before Gogash gets a response to his tongue, Dmitri begins to put more effort into grinding his hips against the Half Orc’s blossoming erection. All the words get stolen from his tongue, as he moans outright into the crook of Dmitri’s arm and torso. A thought crosses his mind, and he isn’t sure if he should dare to even try it. That being said, Dmitri isn’t a shy man in the slightest, and seems to delight in Gogash being bold. He decides to take that leap, letting his tongue slip from beyond the safeguards of his mouth, and onto the smooth surface of Dmitri’s armpit. 

It’s a mixture of tastes, all things considered. It’s salty, earthen, slightly bitter, and yet sweet all at once. The texture was also fascinating, with Dmitri being of Elven blood. He had no hair, not even peach fuzz. The area was completely smooth, making his tongue glide across it like ice. The moment the taste greeted his tongue? He almost bucked Dmitri right off his lap, his hips thrusting of their own accord. He began to worship the Barbarian’s armpit, chasing his own self satisfaction. 

Dmitri has been far from quiet, teasing him lightheartedly as Gogash licks his armpit. It did slightly tickle, which made Dmitri giggle between sentences. “Wow, you really do have a fetish for my pits⁓. It’s kinda cute honestly, like watching a dog lap at a bowl of water,” He continues to grind his ass against Gogash’s growing erection, getting a bit turned on himself. Sure, he didn’t get direct arousal from having Gogash clean his armpit with his tongue. But he sure got off on seeing the man so desperately to please him. 

It made Dmitri want to return the favor, so he gently pulled his armpit away from Gogash’s face. Gogash tried desperately to follow it, but let his head fall back after craning his neck became too difficult. He looked at Dmitri with confusion, his cheeks flush with color as his chest rose and fell in a shallow manner. Dmitri almost felt bad, his expression was that of a puppy who got their food bowl taken away. He then reassured Gogash, “Don’t worry, I was enjoying you getting off on my sweat. I just want to shift gears a little, and give you a chance to see what other pleasures I can show you⁓,”

Gogash leans up to kiss Dmitri, who politely stops him with a painted fingernail to his lips, “Not yet, sweetheart⁓. While I am a whore of many persuasions, I don’t care for the taste of my own armpits. If you still desire to kiss me after I pleasure you, I’m sure we could find some mint leaves for you to munch on. Sounds agreeable?”

Gogash nods, “And the tusks, would they be in the way?”

Dmitri shakes his head, “Not at all Big Guy⁓, no more than the snout of a dragonborn or the height difference of a gnome,”

Gogash feels a reassurance wash over his body, just as a brief chill accompanies it. Dmitri scoots down Gogash’s body, taking his pants and undergarments with him, and throwing them to the joint realms of Fuck & All. If Dmitri had been sweaty during the fight, Gogash was all but drenched. Sweat glistened on his thighs, ass, and weeping cock, making the musky smell hit Dmitri’s nose much harder. Dmitri felt his t-dick throb in his shorts, biting his lip as he watched Gogash’s erection twitch and pulsate against his stomach. His eyes all but begged him to do something about it, and Dmitri was seldom someone to deny such a pretty man pleasure. 

He leaned forward, getting a good whiff at the heady smell of Gogash’s crotch, and the involuntary moan that left his lips mirrored the one given earlier. Dmitri felt his lower lips begin to soak with heated arousal, as he set to making Gogash feel as good as he did. He kneels in the dirt, leaning down to grab Gogash’s cock in one hand, while the other grips his thigh with immaculately painted black fingernails. His head finds itself mere inches from Gogash’s cock, with that distance closing quickly with the advance of his tongue to the head of it. 

Dmitri graces said head with a kitten lick at the pre-cum gathering there, tasting the salty, lightly bitter taste of Gogash’s arousal. To say that Gogash made an exclamation of pleasure is something of an understatement, the sound jumped from lips like a firework escaping into the night sky. The world was suddenly thousands of nerve endings firing on all cylinders, telling him in innumerable ways how skilled Dmitri’s tongue was. Dmitri looked up, keeping his tongue at the head of Gogash’s cock. His mismatched eyes conveyed lust, playfulness, and a confidence rooted in timed honored skills as they bore into Gogash’s eyes.

The Half-Orc barely had a moment to react as Dmitri took the head into his mouth, rotating his tongue around it as Gogash’s hands scrambled for purchase in the dirt and grass below. He desperately wished for something to grasp onto, his composure hanging on for dear life as he tried not to thrust into Dmitri’s mouth. Dmitri looked up again, and while somehow grinning with a cock in his mouth, slowly began to take the whole cock down into his throat. Back and forth, inch by inch, all the while leaving no part of Gogash’s sweaty, pulsating erection without contact from his tongue. Before long, Dmitri’s nose is buried in the dark, coarse hair of Gogash’s pelvis.

All the while, Dmitri absent-mindedly humps the dirt beneath him. Gogash’s sweaty cock was downright deliciously erotic between his lips, and his pussy ached to be touched. Alas, this was not about Dmitri’s desires. Not right now at least. Dmitri set to pleasing Gogash, sucking from base to tip as he pulled all the stops. Rotating his tongue, tonguing the prominent veins, even taking a hand to massage his balls. Gogash was largely incoherent, unable to form thoughts outside of unfathomable carnal lust. Dmitri’s mouth was so warm, and the lingering taste of his musk on his own tongue spurred on waves of arousal to crash over his mind and body. He had barely the words to express the growing lava pit of pleasure in his lower belly, threatening to drag him over under and melt his mind into something new.

The only thing Gogash could do was find purchase in grabbing Dmitri’s head, holding him down at the base of his cock as he comes with a guttural scream. He shoots his load down Dmitri’s throat, coating it almost completely. Dmitri almost feels himself cum in his shorts, almost. He swallows down all the cum given to him happily, and gets another solid whiff of Gogash’s sweaty pelvis. It’s not until Dmitri pulls off the man with an audible pop, that Dmitri teases Gogash once more,

“I hope you got more for me Big Guy⁓, I’m draining your balls till they’re empty⁓,”

Chapter Text

Ryon found himself in a rather interesting situation, all things considered. The former Prodigal Son of Bhaal, the first of a few and far lineage to resist the Urge, and the savior of a major city along the Sword Coast. He traveled with a great many people, while piecing together his broken mind. It was no easy journey, and there were many moments that could’ve spelled doom not only for himself, but the world as he knew it. And yet, it all worked out in the end. The world was saved, he was rewarded beyond measure, and he fell deeply, and thoroughly, in love with a former Sharran Cleric. The wedding was lavish, celebrating the love they nourished during and after their adventures took them across the world and beyond. 

However, one notable present was not wrapped in a bow on their set table for gifts. Nor was it stored in a bag hidden away from the party. No, Shadowheart’s present for her newly wedded husband was not a pair of adventuring pants or a fancy glass to commemorate the occasion. In fact, it was not something at all. Rather, it was someone. That someone waltzed about their wedding reception in a fancy dress, drank champagne from a fancy little glass, and made disrespectfully lustful glances to Shadowheart and Ryon. Her husband was a little too tuned out to notice, but Shadowheart consistently locked eyes with him, and smiled at him with all the devious intent she could muster. While the lovely couple unwrapped all the lovely presents given to them, Dmitri was already scheming from across the reception.

After a blur of goodbyes, brief clean up, and time for rest, Ryon found himself wrapped up nicely with a bow. Or rather, the detailed knots of a skilled rope bondage artist. He was suspended above the floor, easily by 4 or so feet. It was a basic position, prone on his stomach with his wrists crossed behind his back, and his legs bent at the knee and his ankles tied to almost touch his hands. His legs were spread as well, leaving his prepped hole exposed while his cock dangled in the air. His eyes were covered with a blindfold, obscuring his vision all but completely. Ryon was almost dizzy with arousal, his cock occasionally dripped pre-cum onto the floor below.

Of all the presents the couple received tonight, this was the best one yet. 

Shadowheart sat in the velvet chair across the room, swirling a glass of wine after she pulled her hair from the messy bun it had become.

“I must say,” She begins, fixing the babydoll lingerie she changed into, “I underestimated your handiwork with rope. Color me impressed,”

Dmitri chuckles, walking slowly around Ryon as the click of his heels makes his rounded ears twitch, “That was your first mistake Sweetie. Rope becomes art in my hands, and your husband is a prime canvas for it,”

Shadowheart chuckles in her seat, already pink in the cheeks as she sees Ryon suspended in the ropes. Her pussy was already aching to be touched, but she was a woman who knew how to restrain herself. For now, at least. “Hmmmm, it is a rather pretty picture. But you and I know it’s not complete yet.”

Dmitri chuckles darkly, walking up to Ryon after a few laps around his suspended body. He holds Ryon’s chins between his thumb and pointer finger, “Indeed. It needs a little…roughing up. Wouldn’t you say⁓?”

Ryon nods profusely, “P-please!”

Shadowheart giggles, “Awwww, he’s even begging you. How many people can say their art begs for their touch?”

Dmitri returns the sentiment, jostling Ryon’s face side to side before letting go, as if playing with a toy, “Aren’t I lucky⁓,” He looks back to Shadowheart, “Safewords, both of you.”

“Mugwort,” they both say in unison. It prompts a brief chuckle from the trio, Dmitri smiling at the pair.

“Spider,” Dmitri replies, as he then takes a few steps back from the pair, and addresses the empty strap on harness sat on his hips. Shadowheart eyes it hungrily, along with Dmitri as a whole. His long, heeled stiletto boots clacked delightfully across the floor, his dark makeup stayed immaculate through the ceremony, and his nipple rings shined in the candle light of the room. His strap-on harness illuminated with magic, before it replaced his pussy with a long, thick cock. Once the initial wave of arousal rushed over Dmitri, he regained his bearings, and strode back over to Ryon. “Got something for you⁓,” He coos sweetly, gently slapping the side of Ryon’s face with his newly acquired cock.

Ryon feels the warm weight hit his face, and his cock twitches in anticipation. However, he doesn’t want to give Dmitri the satisfaction. Not yet at least. He turns his head away, pretending to not care, “Oh yeah? What’s that gotta do with me?”

Dmitri barks a laugh, looking at Shadowheart, “You hearing this? Now he’s acting like he’s too good for me,”

Shadowheart gives a similar laugh, “Indeed!” She then addresses Ryon in a tone that makes his cock all but throb, “Is someone being a bad boy?”

He keens softly, seizing up for a moment as he re-evaluates his next move, “N-no? I just–”

Shadowheart tuts him, “Ah ah ah, no back sass. Or does our dear company need to punish you?”

His cheeks grow hot with erotic humiliation, and his hole puckers at the thought of such a punishment could entail. He decides, fuck it. Lean into the bratty roleplay with all he got! “Perhaps he does! I doubt he’s got what it takes⁓,”

Shadowheart and Dmitri shared a heated look, with the former speaking to the latter, “Go ahead, rough up the little slut⁓,”

Dmitri walks away from Ryon’s face, leaving the man to only hang onto the sound of Dmitri’s heels prowling around him. He feels like prey, standing helplessly in the clearing of a moonless night. All the while, a wolf licks its chops hungrily, stalking around him as though the fear makes his neck taste better and better by the second. Finally, the wolf strikes, as Dmitri steps quietly yet quickly to position himself behind Ryon. A harsh SMACK lands against the bits of asscheek not covered by rope or his own legs. His cock jumps against his stomach, smacking it as it leaves a line of pre-cum against it. 

He fights to bite back the pathetic moan it elicits, but he has hardly the time to do so. Dmitri pulls out the vial of lube he had tucked away in his boot, pressed against his thigh to warm it. He pours a generous amount into his hand, jerking his cock a few times, and then pressing his fingers to Ryon’s hole. Shadowheart had fingered him earlier, but Dmitri’s fingers were much bigger. He slipped 2 in from the get go, and Ryon felt his entire body pulsate as the stretch made his eyes roll back beneath his blindfold. He was so deprived of his senses, and yet the stimulation was almost overwhelming.

Dmitri began to finger him at a steady yet thorough pace, leaving no part of his beginning entrance untouched. All the while, his free hand groped and smacked either asscheek with unrelenting strength. “He takes my fingers like a dream, you prepped the little slut well⁓,”

Shadowheart rubs her pussy gently over her panties, already feeling the lace give way for hot, sticky arousal, “The moment he gets bent over and fingered? He’s all but clay in my hands,” Her voice carried a telltale breathlessness, her wine glass finished and sat near the leg of her fancy chair.

Dmitri bends down, dodging the ceiling suspension to talk into Ryon’s pointed yet curved ear, “You hear that? Even your wife knows what a submissive little bitch you are⁓,”

Ryon burns hot with humiliation once more, feeling himself grow hot all over as he blushes, “No⁓,” He tries to deny, but all that comes out is a whine. 

“Nooo⁓?” Dmitri mocks him with an ear to ear grin, “So my fingers in your asshole don’t make you wanna cum? To paint this floor like a little bitch as your wife watches⁓?” Dmitri’s cock pulsates at the dirty words, itching for the moment he can bury himself in Ryon’s hole. 

Shadowheart takes off her arousal-slick panties, spitting on her fingers as she rubs her clit directly. Her cheeks were dusted almost red by this point, both from the alcohol, and the deep sexual desire running right alongside it in her veins. She already loved seeing Ryon submit to her, but Dmitri was a different beast altogether. He was mean, yet kind. Thorough in his prep work, and willing to push Ryon to his limits all the while. It made her pussy throb underneath her fingers, soon introducing a few of them into her pussy in tandem with Dmitri’s thrusts. 

Dmitri hears it all from the side, his ears flicking against his skull as he grins, “Hear that? Your wife is fingering herself whilst I finger you. Bet you wish that was your cock between her walls⁓,” Dmitri has introduced a 3rd finger by this point, whilst his other hand makes sure his cock in lubricated.

Ryon is openly moaning by this point, panting open mouthed as he tries not to cum on the spot, “Yes, yes I do! I, I want to cum so badly⁓!”

Dmitri giggles, cruel and sickly sweet, “Yeah? Ready for your punishment?”

Ryon nods, “Please, please punish me! Pound my ass until it’s red, spread my ass wide, make me your bitch! I’ve been sooooo bad⁓!” 

Dmitri pulls his fingers out, slowly inching back and forth until they’re free of Ryon’s puckering hole. “Hang on tight Slut, I’m gonna fuck your ass until you’re cums hands-free in front of your wife⁓,” 

He rotates the hooks on the ceiling, allowing Ryon to be turned enough for Shadowheart to get a ¾ view of Dmitri’s cock pressed against her husband’s hole. By this point, she’s fingering herself as she gently pulls on her nipple. She’s sunk down slightly in the chair, legs spread wide as the smell of her soaking wet pussy catches Ryon’s nose. Even as his vision is obscured completely, the visual of his wife’s arousal makes him whine. How he longs to bury his face between her legs, lapping between her folds. Dmitri speaks to Shadowheart, “Looks like you’re getting just as worked up as he is⁓,”

She moans, “Can you blame me? You paint a very pretty picture⁓,” She whines as she rolls her nipple between her thumb and pointer finger, “Now, fuck my husband like you mean it⁓,”

Dmitri gives her a mock salute, “Yes Ma’am⁓,” He then turns back to spread Ryon’s cheeks, slowly letting the head breach his hole. He gives gentle thrusts in and out, back and forth as he gets a little further in each time. Ryon moans wantonly all the while, feeling himself get spread wider and wider. He had no means to touch his cock, as much as he willed a Mage Hand to appear and give him some relief. Dmitri must’ve used Sussur barked infused rope, the clever bastard. He can’t bitch further, as Dmitri finally slides ball-deep into his welcoming hole. A scream leapt from his throat like a bird taking flight, making him shake from head to toe as he came to terms with feeling so utterly full.

“Feeling good?” Dmitri asks him coyly, “How does it feel to have a cock shoved up your ass while your wife gets off?”

Ryon can barely find the words, panting as sweat begins to drop down his body, “It, it feels, feels,” He swallows hard, before speaking again, “It feels really good⁓,”

Dmitri smiles, “Gooooood,” He drags out the word, as he drags his cock out halfway, “Ready to get fucked stupid⁓?” One hand holds Ryon’s hip, while the other holds onto a focal point for the ropes across his back.

Ryon nods, “Please, punish my hole!”

Dmitri grins, looking back over his shoulder at Shadowheart one more time, “With pleasure⁓,”

Ryon can only hang onto the ropes beneath his hands as Dmitri mercilessly fucks him, sparring no moment of reprieve or respite from the relentless pounding. Ryon is far from quiet, feeling every noise coming from his throat as Dmitri well and truly fucks it out of him. The cock entering and exiting his hole is thick, hot, and being pistoned by a pair of well-trained hips. His cock bounces and twitches from both his own arousal, and from being treated like a suspended fucktoy for Dmitri’s pleasure. His nipples sat hard against his chest, sweat began to drip off his body, and his eyes rolled wildly beneath the blindfold.

Shadowheart fared little better, getting incredibly hot and bothered when Dmitri gave her such a look over his shoulder. She already knew she had a thing for cuckolding, but there was a vast difference between knowing she has a kink, and experiencing that kink first hand. How her pussy ached to have Ryon’s cock inside of it, how she eyed it like a prize as it dangled in mid-air as Dmitri plowed him. She became green with envy, though not the kind that creates resentment and heartbreak. The kind of envy where she would be happy taking Dmitri, or her husband’s, place without so much as a qualm. She wanted to bent her husband over, fuck him until he cried, and make him cum all over himself like the little bitch he was. Conversely, she longed to be tied up in pretty red strings, and fucked so unforgivingly, that her pussy still spasmed at the memory of it.

And at the center of it all, Dmitri fucked Ryon with all the strength a Barbarian and veteran Pole Dancer could give. Ryon was tight, yet hot and wet as he glided in and out with ease. He gripped around Dmitri like a vice, and he had no plans of quitting anytime soon. The loud PLAP, PLAP, PLAP of his balls smacking against Ryon’s ass spurred him on, leaning down and around to talk filthy in his ear, “Fuckin’ hell you’re tight,” He growls against his ear, “Bet you wanna cum so bad, ready to make a mess of yourself⁓,” 

Ryon tries to deny it, but his legs shake as he whines, high and almost cracking his voice, “I, I, I can do this, hahh, hahhhhh, all night⁓!”

Dmitri mocks him again, “Mhmmm, suuuuuure,” He leans back up to address Shadowheart, even as he pounds Ryon’s ass into oblivion, “You believe this? The little slut is trying to deny that he’s close to cumming, how cute⁓,”

She giggles in between moans, “Is he now?” She tries to play coy, but she knows she’s teetering on the edge of climax herself, “Think you can get him to cum hands free?”

Dmitri barks a laugh, “Does a Druid wildshape in the woods? Fuck yeah I can⁓,” He pulls his attention back to Ryon, “Get ready to have your brains fucked out slut⁓,”

Before Ryon can say anything, he screams even louder, Dmitri now thrusting in and out of him with reckless abandon. He would have half a mind to be embarrassed about the noises leaving his mouth, but Dmitri was absolutely delivering on his aforementioned promise. He’s certain his voice was cracking, and he was vaguely aware that he was drooling from his openly panting mouth. His tongue hung from his mouth, dripping spit onto the ground some ways from the constant trickle of pre-cum from his weeping cock. He was so hard it almost hurt, and he felt the compelling need to beg. 

“Shadowheart!” He called to his wife, struggling between gasps and whines and bellowing moans, “Please, tell me I can come! I need it, I need it so fucking bad⁓!”

Shadowheart nearly debates being cruel, telling him, and perhaps watching him wet that blindfold with sexually frustrated tears. But, it was their wedding night after all. As his newly wedded wife, she decided to be nice.

“Come for me Ryon, you’ve been such a good boy⁓,” 

Like a string being pulled taught, Ryon and Shadowheart, husband and wife, cum simultaneously. Ryon thanks her profusely, singing her praises as Dmitri hits his prostate dead on. His cock all but erupts, spurting endlessly on the floor as he shakes and writhes in his restraints. Shadowheart cums with a high keen, pulling her nipple as her fingers press ardently against her G-spot. They both come down from their respective highs, as Dmitri pulls his cock from Ryon’s well fucked hole. Shadowheart notices the lack of a cum shot, before seeing Dmitri briefly speaking the verbal component for a cleaning spell, and watches his cock briefly light up. The cock then disappears, soon sliding off the strap harness and stepping out of it.

“You didn’t cum yet?” She asks aloud.

Dmitri nods, helping Ryon down from the ropes, but not taking off the blindfold yet. He lets the man stretch out his legs, before carrying him to the bed. He then addresses Shadowheart,

“It takes a bit more to get me off, besides,” He beckons her over to the bed, grabbing her own strap-on harness from the bedside table, and spins it playfully on his finger.

“It bet he can fuck me even better with your cock in his ass⁓,”

Chapter Text

Tristan had no idea why he was sitting here. Go on a date, they said. It will be fun! They said, Now he was sitting in a bar that he was wholly unfamiliar with, with nary his date in sight. He had nothing against strippers, of course. But this is definitely a strange place to have a first date, to say the least. It was hard to tell the time with all the colorful lights, but he would hazard a guess that it was well into the evening. A pretty half-elf ranger, with pink highlights in his hair and a swagger to his walk, had somehow convinced him that his evening would be best spent with his company. At first he was inclined to say no, but his brothers in arms were all but falling over him to say yes in his stead. Obnoxious and loud as they can be, Tristan knew they meant well, so he said yes with a defeated smile. Now he was staring down a mug of ale, feeling his sour mood curdle further and further until–

“Hey there⁓,” A deep voice from behind startles the daylight out of him, making him fall off his barstool and onto his ass. He groans in pain, rubbing his sore bottom as a hand reaches out to help him up, “Shit! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” The voice spoke again. 

Tristan finally has the good sense to open his eyes, looking upon the owner of that rather lovely voice. Oh sweet Lathander in the sky. “Well, are you gonna sit on the floor all night⁓?” The very, very beautiful Drow asked him. He was dressed in nothing but a bondage harness, a black thong, and black, thigh-high stripper boots. Tristan was well and truly awestruck for a moment, before he finally remembered he had free will, and grabbed the man’s hand. He wasn’t expecting to be hoisted up to his feet like he weighed nothing, and he couldn’t tell if the light-headedness came from the ale, the sudden change in position, or if he was discovering something new about himself. 

Now that he was on his feet, he realized that this man stood well and over a head taller than him. Granted, the bulk of that height was the heels. Still, Tristan was yet again awestruck by the sheer mass of Drow standing before him. Broad expanses of muscle, with very little clothing to hide it. He almost feels a bit disrespectful for looking, but it was so mesmerizing he couldn’t look away. The large Drow giggles, “My eyes are up here Sweetheart,” Tristan suddenly finds his tongue too big for his mouth, and the words piled up in his throat like snow gathering on a creaky old roof. He could hardly remember the man he was supposed to meet here, for all thoughts of him launched themselves from his ears like dandelion seeds in the breeze.

He finally remembered his better manners, clearing his throat as he spoke, “Sorry I uh, ahem,” He felt his cheeks going pink, but he was committed to talking to this man, “Thank you, for helping me, off the floor,”

The man giggles, crossing his arms with a smile. Even with the loud music bouncing against the walls, the sound carried in a way that made Tristan’s heart pound in his chest, “Anytime⁓,” He then examines the man from head to toe, as if assessing him, “I take it’s your first time here at the Iron Bull?” 

Tristan feels a little embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Is it so obvious?”

The man smiles at him again, and in spite of his pride feeling a bit bruised, Tristan almost feels at ease with him. In spite of the dark makeup and imposing physique, there was a warmth to his presence, like standing in the sunlight of a summer day. “I mean no ill will by it,” He begins, “Most holy people who wander in here tend to have that lost puppy look about them. Waiting for someone to tell them what to do or where they’re supposed to be.”

Tristan sighs in defeat, “Nothing against your, profession,” He sneaks another glance at the Drow, before turning pink again and glancing elsewhere in the room, “A date was supposed to meet me here. And, I’m pretty sure he’s not coming.”

The man frowns in sympathy, “You got stood up? If someone was willing to ditch a guy as fine as you, he’s nothing short of an idiot only found in the Bard’s tales,”

Tristan looks at him, a bit in disbelief, “You really think so?”

The Drow nods, “I know so,” He then uncrosses one of his arms, gesturing towards Tristan with a well manicured hand, “Tall, handsome, and the blonde hair suits you. Plus the glowing eye? Very befitting of a Lathander worshipper,”

Tristan is still in disbelief. How was this total knockout of a guy standing here, and telling him that he’s the good looking one? He chuckles sheepishly, still pink in the cheeks, “You’re not too bad yourself Mr….,”

The Drow chuckles, “Just call me Dmitri,” He extends a hand out to shake his own.

“Tristan,” He says, shaking Dmitri’s hand. It was a firm handshake, taking Tristan by surprise. When he pulls back, he’s still chuckling a bit, “Sorry, it’s just, you're not what I was expecting this evening.”

Dmitri pulls his hand back after a moment, “I tend to get that alot,” He takes a breath, before grinning with a soft mischief in his eyes, “So, Tristan who got stood up by some loser, how would you like to spend this evening? I can’t imagine your mug of ale was a great conversationalist,”

Tristan laughs outright at this, “No, it’s about as dull as the wood it was made from,” He looks up at Dmitri, “What did you have in mind?”

Dmitri giggles softly, placing some coin on the counter to pay for his ale, “I have a few ideas in mind, shall we⁓?” He extended a hand towards Tristan, smiling like he just won a prize at the local fair.  

Tristan felt a bit giddy, being seen as something to be coveted. “Let’s,” He says, taking Dmitri’s hand in his own, letting himself be led by the gorgeous Drow further into the club. 

Soon enough, it was a blur of kisses, hands in less than appropriate places, and clothes being torn off before stumbling into a room with a king sized bed and a stripper pole nearby. Tristan seldom claimed to be a chaste man, though the presumption made by many wasn’t necessarily wrong. That being said, he had not planned to be in the position he currently found himself in.

“Gods above⁓,” He moans openly, “You feel amazing!”

 Sweat collected at his hairline, ran down his temple, and landed against the back of Dmitri’s shoulder. The owner of such a shoulder giggled, “Yeah⁓?” He teased, tensing his thigh muscles. Tristan feels the wind get knocked from his lungs, feeling the already snug area his cock is occupying get even tighter. He braces himself on either side of Dmitri’s shoulders, getting a brief glance at his cock entering between the Drow’s freckle-dappled thighs. The area was slick with a rather lovely smelling oil, like sandalwood and patchouli. Though it was hardly needed, save for the outer area of Dmitri’s thighs. With each press inward, his cock graced between the slick lips of Dmitri’s pussy, gently kissing the head of his T-dick. 

Dmitri moans with each pass, laying on his stomach like a satisfied cat, “Fuck, that feels good⁓,” He casts a glance over his shoulder, “Do you like my thick thighs around your cock Sweetheart?”

Tristan is not necessarily prepared for such dirty talk, having to stop his thrusting for a moment so as to not cum immediately. His thighs shake, both from emotional and physical restraint. He buries his face in Dmitri’s shoulder, red as a tomato, “That’s hardly fair,” He gently whines.

Dmitri chuckles, cruel yet soft from his lips, “It’s plenty fair Sugar⁓. I simply must know if I’m doing a good job for you,” He lifts a hand to gently scratch at his hair, kissing his cheek before speaking again, “Besides, I know you want to continue,” He tenses his thighs, making Tristan whine into his ear. 

Tristan leans back up, and finally lets himself fuck Dmitri’s thighs with reckless abandon. He grips his hips like a vice, and plows in between those beautiful, muscular thighs. The brief moments his cock meets Dmitri’s pussy make him moan even louder, making him idly daydream about getting to fuck it as well. It was a surprise upon first glance, that he can’t deny. But now? It was the source of the hardest erection he’s had in a good long while. The taste of it still sat on his tongue, and by Lathander’s radiance, he wanted another taste. 

Dmitri responded quite positively to Tristan’s final untethering of himself from the holy gentleman he presented himself as. He gripped the sheets beneath him, the blankets and pillows of the bed long since thrown to the ground or sat in half disarray away from his reach. He bit his lip, smiling as his eyes rolled back, “Yeah, that’s it baby, fuck, plow my thighs like you mean it⁓!” Every time Tristan’s cock brushed against his T-dick, he felt himself grow wetter and wetter, that familiar pool of heat gathered in his lower belly like a wildfire. 

Everything was coming to a fever pitch, with Tristan’s moans escalating from deep pleasure, to a desperate chase for release. Dmitri’s moans went from self-satisfied and cocky, to clearly being affected by Tristan’s hard and fast pace. The Cleric gasped out between moans, “Where, where can I–”

Dmitri interrupts him, “Go ahead, paint my thighs white! Just, don’t fucking stop⁓⁓!” He pants openly, feeling himself drip hot arousal onto the bed as he prepares to cum. Tristan would ask further about making a mess, but he can’t stop himself from thrusting to do so. Everything was hot and wet around him, and Dmitri looked like a painting underneath him. He was art in motion, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of him even if he tried. 

He gets a few more quick thrusts in before he cums with a shuddering breath, burying himself deep between Dmitri’s thighs. He falls onto Dmitri’s back, giving shallow thrusts as he spends himself with low, guttural moans. He cums so hard he nearly gets dizzy, feeling himself truly give his all. Dmitri is not too far behind, egging him on all the while, 

“Fuck, yes, cum for me, cum for me, hahhh⁓, I’m so close⁓, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK⁓⁓!” 

He cums with a high keen in his throat, squirting all over Tristan’s cock as he visibly relaxes into the bed. His eyes roll back and his thighs tighten, eliciting another moan from Tristan. By the time both come down from their highs, Dmitri’s thighs, and the bed below, and are thoroughly soaked. When Tristan withdraws himself from the Drow’s thighs, he flops gracelessly onto his back. He regains his breath, just as Dmitri does the same. The pair look at each other, with Dmitri soon grinning. It was the same one he wore that started this whole evening, 

“Got another round in you, Pretty Boy⁓?”

Chapter Text

Tsakoarhc was a person with, interesting proclivities, when examined under the gaze of a seasoned kinkster. Dmitri was such a kinkster, having been a stripper for going on 40+ years now. Such was their shared luck, being shoved together on a whirlwind adventure to save the world, and pitted against all the evils it had to offer. For all the impossible things they accomplished together, the one that Tsakoarhc could scarcely believe happened? Finally ridding themselves of Bhaal’s wretched blood. Even now, as he examined the hands he’s known for his whole life, they were brand new to his gaze. It seems the company in their lap was not as patient as they were, wiggling incessantly in an attempt for his attention, “C’monnnnnn, what’re you waiting for? An invitation⁓?”

Tsakoarhc comes back to themselves again, remembering where he was once more. Ah yes, the big, comfy bed afforded to him and Dmitri after saving the world. Amongst the luxuries given to them, the house was something that took some getting used to. But with Dmitri’s presence to fill it with them, the adjustment process was a rather delightful one. Tsakoarhc chuckled low in their throat, acknowledging the beautiful man laying sideways across their lap,

“Do I hear a note of impatience⁓?” 

Dmitri huffs, “I’m about to play an entire symphony of impatience if you don’t–”

Dmitri was swiftly cut off, as the hand absentmindedly groping his naked ass jumped up, and landed with a swift SMACK against it. Dmitri mewled, feeling that tantalizing sting bloom across his cheek, 

“Mmmmmm, that’s more like it⁓,” He groans in satisfaction.

Tsakoarhc chuckles again, “Punishment has found its most ardent glutton indeed,”

Dmitri turns his head to stick his tongue out at them, grinning thereafter, “Damn right,” He shakes his ass  to spur them on, “Now, gimme another, and make it hurt this time⁓,”

Tsakoarhc tuts him, “Ah ah ah, where’s the magic word?”

Dmitri rolls his eyes with a grin, “Make it hurt this time, Master⁓,”’

Tsakoarhc now finds themselves at a fork in the road. Was that the word he was hoping for? Not even close. Was it also a damn good answer? Yes. And it was quite obvious that Dmitri was looking for a punishment, and that was something they could provide in abundance. Thus, Tsakoarhc decides to indulge the pretty man laying across his lap. 

“The correct word was ‘please’, but I suppose I can abide the request⁓,” They bend down to purr into Dmitri’s ear, making the Drow preen, stretching out over their lap like a languid housecat. When they bend back up, they deliver a much harsher SMACK to Dmitri’s other cheek. A blossom of dark purple-ish blue blooms from the area, a perfect outline of Tsakoarhc’s hand. Dmitri’s reaction is stronger this time, biting his lip as he gently shudders in place. The moan is partially silenced by the bitten lip, but Tsakoarhc feels it rumble in Dmitri’s chest and throat. They decide to start smacking back and forth between his cheeks, sometimes giving light and quick successions, and sometimes ending with downright brutal hits against the Drow’s shapely backside. 

Dmitri moans with each one, feeling the pain and heat begin to center at his ass. He can only imagine the dark color it’s becoming, the perfect handprints marking his as Tsakoarhc’s. He takes a deep pride in the marks, knowing how much his lover used to fear his hands. Before they overcame the Urge, getting him to play rough in the bedroom was an uphill battle to say the least. And the backsliding always hit Tsakoarhc rough, but Dmitri was always at his side to reassure him. For Tsakoarhc to trust their hands to not hurt Dmitri, at least not in any meaningful way, was a testament to the bond the pair had built over the course of their journey. 

It took a long time for Tsakoarhc to trust Dmitri, let alone to trust him with such bedroom activities. Sure, Dmitri was built like a mountain, even standing taller than themselves. But Tsakoarhc knew what his hands could do, and the idea of ever laying hands on Dmitri nearly brought them to tears. But Dmitri showed not only the patience of a saint, but the resilience of a warrior to boot. Tsakoarhc dove into the world of Kink and Fetish like a fish diving into the sea. 

As Tsakoarhc continued to spank Dmitri, he felt a brief tickle of humor within their belly.

“What’s so funny⁓?” Dmitri asks between breathless moans and whimpers. 

Tsakoarhc responds, “The irony of a man much stronger than I, laying himself across my lap, to endure the palm-ladden punishment,”

Dmitri giggles, “Only you could make spanking my ass ‘til it’s purple, sound like poetry⁓,” He then moans loudly as another smack against his cheeks makes his pussy drool onto Tsakoarhc’s leg, “And if you’re feeling up for it, I could bend you over and give you the same treatment sweetcheeks⁓,”

Tsakoarhc debates it, remembering the sting that pervaded his senses for hours afterwards. It made their cock jump against his stomach, the sticky dot of pre-cum becoming bigger by the passing minute. “Perhaps, but let us not get too distracted,” They land one more harsh hit against Dmitri’s ass, before he begins to beg Tsakoarhc, 

“Fuck⁓! Please, Tsakoarhc! I can’t take it any longer⁓!” 

Dmitri gently pries himself off his lover’s lap, watching the string of sticky, translucent arousal connect his pussy to Tsakoarhc’s thigh. He positions himself face down, ass up, and reaches to spread his now dark blue, stinging asscheeks. He reveals the buttplug he had inserted well before the spanking, and even though Tsakoarhc knew it was there, it still flooded their senses with a hot and heavy wave of arousal. He cranes his neck to look at his lover, spreading his cheeks wide as he clenched and unclenched his holes,

“Please Tsakoarhc, fuck me⁓!”

Tsakoarhc grinned devilishly, scooting over to help pry the plug from Dmitri’s hole. Their thumb gently rubbed Dmitri’s T-dick, letting the nail occasionally catch to make Dmitri jump. Once the plug was free, his lover grabbed the vial of oil from the bedside table, and poured a generous amount onto their cock. As Tsakoarhc stroked their cock to full mast, he gently teased his lover,

“A glutton for punishment, dressed in the finest visions of pleasure,” 

Dmitri purrs under the praise, welcoming Tsakoarhc’s presence over his back. He can feel their cock lining up with his entrance, and the itch of anticipation is almost too much too bear, “You always talk so sweet to me⁓,” 

Tsakoarhc kisses their cheek as they slide in, pressing themselves flush against Dmitri’s pain-laden cheeks. Dmitri is already breathless, hanging onto the bedsheets for dear life as Tsakoarhc purrs one last piece of Bardic musing, before pummeling him into the mattress,

“I aim to please, for the bowstring of desire was pulled taut by your hands,”

Chapter Text

Inside Baldur's Gate’s hottest strip club, The Iron Bull, there was a room towards the back of the building. A room that was used for a great many things, but most notably? Engaging in Kinks/Fetishes that might be a bit, outside the box. Sure, there were bedrooms for the dancers who also indulged in prostitution, or for the patrons who were simply too drunk to walk home by themselves. But this room? This room was special. Owen knew this room well, even if he couldn’t see it. His seeing-eye cane knew the knocks against rich, mahogany wood well, and through a brief Pavlovian response, it kindled a spark of fire deep in his belly. He knew to knock on the door 3 times, twice in a row, with a delay on the 3rd. He heard the shuffle of a peep window, and a familiar, deep voice spoke to him,

“Password?” It spoke.

“I wish to see the stars,” He said, cool and confident.

The peep window shuts, and the clink of a door unlocking prompts him to step back. Though he couldn’t see it, he could hear the telltale sound of leather on mesh, and the brief clack of high heels on polished wood floors.

“Owen,” Speaks the voice he knows belongs to Dmitri Armada, “And here I was worried you had gotten shy on me,”

Owen smiles, “In your dreams⁓,” He comes forward, to which Dmitri steps out of the way, closing the door behind him. He elaborates further, “Clerical work kept me late today. I hope this shall suffice as an apology,”

From his back pocket he produces a small box, handing it to Dmitri with the hand not holding his cane. Dmitri takes the box, opening it to find,

“Oh, Owen,” he says in surprise, “How’d you know my favorite perfume?” Dmitri pulls the glass bottle from the box, setting it on a table nearby.

Owen smirks, “Can’t fool this nose, I spent an afternoon haggling with the apothecary stand to get the exact blend you wear,”

Dmitri sets the bottle back in the box, walking over to Owen to put his arms on his shoulders. He sidesteps the cane before speaking, “You always spoil me rotten⁓,” He kisses Owen’s cheek, sighing wistfully as he stares into the Tiefling’s silvery-white eyes, “Consider your apology accepted in full,”

Owen purrs in delight, leaning into Dmitri’s touch as his tail wraps around the Drow’s leg, “I hope I haven’t dulled your wickedness too much,”

Dmitri scoffs and laughs all at once, gently smacking Owen’s chest as he gently pulls away, “Pffffft, no way! You’d have to give me the world before I’d ever go easy on you Big Boy⁓,”

Owen shivers in delight, “You always know what to say to get me going sweetcheeks⁓,”

Dmitri giggles in return, “That’s my job⁓,” He takes a deep breath, getting himself into the mindset for tonight, “Now, take off your clothes Bitch.”

Owen stripped himself quickly, tossing the clothes in wild and haphazard directions. Soon he was directed to lay flat on his back, having some help from Dmitri so as to not hit his head on anything. The polished, hardwood floor was cool against his back,  a welcome sensation from always running just a bit too warm for the room. He then heard the rustle and clink of a familiar item, making his already hard cock jump against his stomach. He felt the multi-head leash get attached to all 5 piercings across his cock, balls, and perineum, eliciting another shiver of excitement. A Prince Albert ¾ ring through the head of his cock, a Frenum bar through the underside of the head, 2 Hafada rings through the top of his balls, and a Guiche bar under his balls. The leash had to connect to both sides of the bar piercings, but Dmitri was nothing, if not creative with his Kink gear.

To anyone else, Owen would almost look bored, and altogether uninterested in Dmitri’s actions. But Dmitri knew better, through the time they had spent together in this room. Owen was a tough one to crack, but Dmitri knew what buttons to press to get what they both wanted. He was a stubborn brat, the kind that most Doms or Dom-persuaded individuals would give up on. Dmitri lived for the challenge, and within a few sessions together? He had managed to get Owen to cum so hard, he was sobbing with relief. Soon enough, the leash was in place, the vibrating plug was inserted into Owen with a low speed to start, and Dmitri was crouching inches away from the Tiefling’s face, “Give me your safeword,” He orders.

“Fire,” Owen says, feeling the words reverberate off Dmitri’s shapely ass.

Dmitri’s smile is audible, “Good boy. Now, tonguefuck Master’s hole⁓,”

Owen cracks a small smile, “With Pleasure⁓,”

Dmitri leans down slightly, meeting Owen’s face as he partially rests his weight against him. He feels that oh so delightfully textured, forked tongue lick his hole from top to bottom. He sighs, smiling as he rewards Owen with a soft yank of the leash. The Tiefling moans against Dmitri, keeping his hands firmly at his sides. As much as he wants to touch his cock, he would need to wait for permission to touch anything. Instead, he focuses his efforts on pleasing Dmitri, licking around the ring of muscles as it relaxed under his ministrations. Dmitri moans softly, “Thaaaaaat’s it, keep going baby⁓,” 

Meanwhile, his hand gently tugs on the leash, making the piercing pull taut against their respective places. A pearl of pre-cum dotted the Prince Albert ring in particular, trickling down the shaft in a translucent white line. Dmitri licked his lips, thinking to himself how much it looked like a line of white icing for something sweet. He debated leaning forward, having a nice little taste for himself. Another time, perhaps. Right now, he wanted Owen to get off on his favorite form of sexual deviancy: Pain. When he figured out just how far Owen could go down this particular rabbit hole, Dmitri felt that itch for curated, violent sadism finally get scratched. He whipped Owen’s back bloody while making him wear a vibrating cock ring, poured painfully hot candle wax onto his chest while riding his cock, and Owen’s personal favorite? Dmitri picked his best heels to walk across his cock and balls, making him cum so hard that his knot popped out. 

Back to the present, Owen tongued was fully pressing itself into Dmitri, fucking in and out of his asshole while Dmitri tugged more firmly on his leash. The clink of the metal latches against the piercings danced in Owen’s ears, and the white hot pain that accompanied the sound makes him harder with each tug. With his lack of eyesight, the sensations he felt were much stronger. Both in the base level senses of sound, touch, taste, and scent, and in the more abstract and complex senses, like arousal and pain. Even with the sound of the leash telling him it was about to yank again, that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it window of reaction still catches him off guard in the most delightful way. Normally it would be distressing, but to him it was like being surprised with his favorite birthday cake over and over, and it has yet to grow novel for him. 

Dmitri clicked the remote on the table nearby, upping the speed for the vibrator by a few notches. Owen spasmed lightly on the floor, his tail searching for purchase as the stimulation wracked his body.

Dmitri cooed sweetly, “Awwww, did that feel good⁓?”

Owen has half a mind to gently bite Dmitri’s asshole in retaliation, but truth be told? He thinks the solid slap he would get to his cock would make him cum prematurely, so he holds his bonus action, for now. Furthermore, his restraint seems to have earned him a little reward, as Dmitri speaks further,

“Here, go ahead and wrap your tail around my leg. I also give you permission to hold me in place,” He then giggles, “I know how much you love grabbing my ass⁓,”

He presses more of his weight onto Owen’s face for emphasis, making him briefly light-headed as his oxygen intake is deprived. Owen’s cock is painfully hard by this moment, between the painful tugs on his genital piercings, the arousal of Dmitri sitting on his face, and the brief stimulation from brushing his tail against the Drow’s skin. He tried to speak, but Dmitri grounded his ass against his face again.

“Hmmmmm⁓?” Dmitri teased with an ear to ear grin, even shaking his ass side to side while he spoke, “Did the Bitch on my Leash want to say something? I thought your job was to tongue fuck my ass, not to backtalk⁓,”

Owen felt hot humiliation running from the tips of his horns, down to the tips of his toes. Very few people got away with speaking to him like Dmitri did, and even fewer could keep up with the consequences of what happened shortly thereafter. He decided to retaliate in his own maliciously compliant way, pulling Dmitri’s ass down with his hands, tongue fucking him even harder as his tail locked one of his legs into place for good measure. 

Dmitri reacted accordingly, giving a moan that sounded like the air got punched from his lungs. His pussy dripped decadently onto Owen’s chest, and the urge to touch himself could be ignored no longer. “Oh⁓!” He moaned, giggling right after, “Alright, since someone’s getting impatient⁓,”

He reached over to the table, clicking the vibrating plug to full speed, and began tugging constantly on the leash. The motion and speed was comparable to Dmitri jerking him off, in a fucked up and painful kind of way. Owen seemed to have finally broken through his stoicism, moaning as he tongued fucked Dmitri’s hole with everything he’s got. The plug in his ass was pressing against his prostate, his cock was in equal parts aching pain and dizzying pleasure, and the wet sounds of Dmitri’s quickly rubbing his engorged clit made him spiral further and further into sexual euphoria. And in the pursuit of that nirvana, his climax was approaching hard and fast. 

He was able to pull away from Dmitri’s ass for a moment, unknowingly staining his back door with black lipstick, “Please⁓!” He begs breathlessly, whining pathetically at a particularly harsh tug against the 2 rings attached to his balls, “Can I cum? I need it so bad⁓,”

Dmitri pretends to debate it, despite jerking his t-dick between his knuckles like it would save his life, “Hmmmmmm, I’m not sure,” He grounds his face against Owen’s tongue, reveling in just how deep he manages to get within him, “Why should I let you make a mess of yourself, yanking on your piercings like the little Pain Slut you are⁓?”

Owen audibly shivers, being talked down to so brazenly. He was well and truly at the end of his rope, so close to climaxing that any coherent thoughts he jumped ship ages ago. He whines against Dmitri’s hole, “Because I live for the pain you give me! No one delivers that beautiful agony like you do Master!” His sightless eyes cross in his skull, rolling back to observe the same pitch black vision they see otherwise, “I’m your Pain Slut, do with my body as you see fit!”

Dmitri grins audibly, getting breathless as his climax is fast approaching as well, “You always did beg so sweetly⁓,” He renews his efforts with the leash, whilst the other hand grows slick with arousal between his folds, “Go ahead, cum for me,”

With one last tug of the leash, nearly taking one of the piercings from its expanse of skin, Owen cums with a guttural shout into Dmitri’s asshole. His knot doesn’t pop this time, but it threatens such an occurrence as it sits proud against the base of his cock. It erupts cums all over his chest and stomach, coating it in a sticky, pearlescent white mess. Owen continues his ministrations as best he can, with Dmitri soon announcing his climax, 

“Such a good Pain Slut, tonguefuck my hole like the good little bitch you are⁓! I’m, I’m, FUCK⁓⁓!” 

With a well timed jerk against the head of his T-dick, he squirts onto Owen’s chest while moaning towards the ceiling. Thankfully Owen’s hands and tail kept him stable as his knees grew shaky from crouching for so long, Dmitri’s hands let go of his T-dick and the leash to brace his hands on the floor below him. They journey through the aftershocks together, with Owen shaking in particular from the relentless vibrations of the butt plug. When Dmitri regains his breath, he’s able to clumsily smack the remote until the plug switches off. Dmitri eventually falls to his side, breathing hard and shallow in time with Owen. 

They sit/lay together for a moment, before Owen finds his words first,

“Think you’re prepped enough for anal? I wanna knot that fine ass⁓,”

Dmitri giggles, slowly rising to his feet with a groan, “Let me get some mint leaves for your mouth, and then it’s on baby⁓,”

Chapter Text

Dagny was as prepared as one could really be, all things considered. He has showered, shaved, and thoroughly prepped himself for tonight. He tied his hair up into a half ponytail, fluffing the bottom half out of habit. He applied a gentle line of eyeliner and a brush of lipgloss, silently hyping himself up in the mirror. He looked like he always had, yet there was something new to his presentation. Be it the top surgery making him no longer slouch, the glow in his cheeks from eating and sleeping better, or perhaps, it was something that made his heart flutter in his chest. The man who looked back at him in the mirror was touched by a 4 letter word as old as the hills: Love. He was a man completely and utterly in love, and the glow followed him everywhere he went.

That pinch of fairy dust almost made him float as he exited the bathroom, slipped on his best going out clothes, and tied his shoes before all but skipping out the door and into the nighttime streets of Baldur’s Gate. Fireflies danced around him, the smell of street food tickled his nose, and the warmth of summertime made him almost giddy with joy. But the source of the pep in his step was not the zeal of summer, nor was it entirely because of love. Rather, something the object of his deepest affections was suggesting as a date tonight. It was, unconventional, to say the least. But if Dagny could trust Dmitri to save the world together a year ago, he could trust his judgement on just about anything. Furthermore, this date involved something he had a great deal of good judgement on.

As Dagny skipped down the street, humming a bard’s tune he heard along the way, his eyes caught the familiar pink neon lights of Dmitri’s place of work. The Iron Bull stood proud against the otherwise unassuming buildings next to it, like the showpiece in a boutique window that bordered on the line between high fashion and trashy couture. Dagny smiled up seeing it, walking right up to the side entrance. Normally he wouldn’t be allowed back there, but with a special key given to him by his lover, he wordlessly unlocked the door, and slipped inside with nary a sound. 

The walls thumped with music that utterly bewitched him, alien and yet it felt like it pulsed to the beat of his heart. It was muffled, and yet it pulled him like a ship at sea to the call of a Siren. The source of the music wasn’t what he was searching for, so he redirected his attention to the room he knew he was supposed to find. It took a bit of navigation, but a door with a Gold Star labelled “Interactive” revealed itself to him. He smiled in triumph, opening the door and striding confidently inside. 

Dmitri sat in one of the chairs nearby, already stripping off his clothes. He stood in just a lacy pair of underwear and black stripper heels. He looked up to see Dagny, his heart beating fast in his chest as he gets up to greet him,

“Usst’chev,” He purrs, meeting Dagny halfway across the room to hug him, “I was wondering when you were going to join me⁓,” (Drowic word for My Lover).

Dagny hugged him back, taking the moment to bury his face in his lover’s soft, muscular pecs, “I was a little nervous, I’m not gonna lie,” He looks up into Dmitri’s mismatched eyes, “And the safety precautions, you’re sure they’ll hold up?”

Dmitri rubs the small of Dagny’s back in reassurance, swaying side to side with him, “Of course. If you feel unsafe or you just need a breather, the magic word is ‘Hopscotch’. We also got the Lesser Restoration Rod, in case the main spell for the room fails. Though I have yet to see any room Donovan enchants ever fail. He might be a bitter old mage, but he’s one of the best,”

Dagny nods, a bit of his worry going away, “And the, ahem, guests?”

Dmitri reassures him again, “They’re vetted by the club to make sure they have no spreadable illnesses, sexual or otherwise. They also know the safeword system, and if any of them pull some funny business, it’s an instant ban from the club. And if the Madam is feeling whimsical, a cloud of pink glitter follows them around that spells out ‘FuckHead McGee’ for about a week.” 

Dagny snorts, “You’re so full of shit, there’s no way she does that,”

Dmitri laughs softly in return, “Yeah, but you know I’d request it of her if it would make you feel even a little at ease,”

Dagny feels a warmth bubble from his lower belly, making him feel as though his heart is being steamed by the boiling pot of desire beneath it. He smiles, looking deep into Dmitri’s eyes, “You’re so good to me, you know that?” 

Dmitri kisses his forehead, “Indeed I do. How lucky am I, to have someone so rewarding to be good to?”

Dagny smiles, giving one last squeeze before pulling away to take a deep breath. He takes off his clothes, now a little sad that the other guests won’t be able to see his outfit. But at least Dmitri got to see all dressed up, which made him smile to himself. Once he’s naked, Dmitri takes off his thong, but leaves the stripper heels on. He bows cordially, offering his hand to Dagny’s,

“Ready?” He asks, grinning from beneath the bow.

Dagny bows just as gentlemanly, playing to his Bardic charms, “With you at my side? I’m ready for anything,”

Dmitri comes back up, and leads Dagny to the other side of the room. Two large holes sat in the wall, with murmuring and an occasional shuffle of someone walking around. Dagny squeezes Dmitri’s hand, who then squeezes back. Dagny looks at him, “So…I just say the word and I, pop, in?”

Dmitri nods, “Yep, it’s that easy. A list will pop up on the other side with your preferences, limits, and endurance. The word will pop you right back out, and plop you in a chair with water, basic snacks, and a towel to clean yourself up with,”

Dagny nods, digesting the information more than the first time he heard it. He takes another deep breath, and speaks the words,

“Hopscotch.”

He shut his eyes, before opening to find himself still in the room, but differently. He was now inserted through the left hole in the wall, with Dmitri on the right. The lower half of his body hung out of the other side, gently floating in mid air a foot or so off the ground. It felt odd, but not unwelcome. He could spread his feet apart or keep them together without feeling like he was going to fall. Despite being firmly inserted in the hole in the wall, he didn’t feel his weight resting against it either. He was thankful Dmitri was still close by, well within hand holding and even kissing range. He held Dmitri’s hand as he took another breath to center himself, “This is…new,”

Dmitri giggled, “Yeah, it feels kinda weird at first, but this is when the fun begins,” He then points to a button near Dagny’s hand, “When you’re ready for a guest to approach you, hit that button. When you wanna tap out, you hit it again and say the word. This gives them a heads up for when you’re taking a break,”

Dagny chuckles, “You’re really familiar with this room, huh?”

Dmitri grins ear to ear, “Damn right,” He then elaborates further, “I like to think of this room as my sexual reset button. Sometimes, I get too wrapped up in a particular sexual act, kink, or even a favored toy. I get obsessed with it, and then once I’m done, everything feels overwhelmed. There’s so much choice, and sometimes venturing outside of the bubble I made for myself becomes daunting,”

Dagny raises a brow, “You? Daunted by sex?”

Dmitri gently pushes Dagny’s face away with a smile, sticking his tongue out at him, “Yeah yeah, don’t tell the public. So, when that would happen, I would come here. Outside of the limits and preference you give, you have no idea what the guests might do. It’s a total mystery, until you’re getting fucked in ways you couldn’t even imagine.”

Dagny nods, “I think I’m starting to get it. I get a similar way with music, sometimes I need to pick an instrument I haven’t played in forever to get out of my slumps,”

He takes a deep breath, “Alright, let’s hit the buttons together.”

Dmitri nods, counting them down before they both slam down their buttons at the same time. A few of the guests make rowdy comments from behind the wall, “About time! Thought you two had gotten cold feet,”

Dmitri scoffs, “Pfffft, not a chance!”

Dagny laughs a bit awkwardly, “Soooooo, how does this start–”

Dagny interrupts himself with a loud “EEEEEP!” as he briefly flails in his spot. Dmitri looks concerned for a moment, “Are you okay?”

He shouts, half moaning and half squealing from a strange mixture of ticklishness and sudden arousal. “THERE IS A TONGUE IN MY ASSHOLE.” 

Dmitri blinks for a moment, before bursting into laughter. Dagny is half between laughing, moaning, and being unable to decide which one to do first. The tongue pressing against his backdoor is textured, long, and surprisingly prehensile. He would guess someone of Dragonborn descent, perhaps Argornian? But he had little time to guess further, as the tongue relaxed his muscles enough to plunge deep within his hole. The shock and laughter had mostly subsided, now replaced by growing arousal. Dagny braced himself against the edge of the hole in the wall, panting hard and heavy as he was already feeling the familiar heat of sexual desire coursing through his body.

Dmitri also finished laughing, now observing his lover in quiet reverie. He never so looked beautiful, then in the throes of their bedroom escapades. The flush in his cheeks, his messy hair falling onto his shoulders, and the art-worthy poses he would lay in on the equally messy blankets and bedsheets. Dmitri was soon pulled from his musings when he felt someone kneel behind him. A soft, meek voice spoke,

“M-may I kiss your pussy, sir?”

Dmitri spread his legs, giving a coy little shake of his ass for good measure, “Go ahead, kiss my other lips all you like⁓,”

Soon enough, a pair of lips and a decently skilled tongue begin to pleasure his cunt, making Dmitri moan and sigh softly. While it was nothing to climax from, it was a nice warm-up round for the main events of the night. In spite of the fact that both men were receiving pleasure from complete strangers, there was a warm intimacy to it all. Dagny looked at Dmitri, beckoning him closer for a sweet, downright romantic kiss. Dmitri ended the kiss with a giggle, “Someone feeling sentimental⁓?”

Dagny nods, cradling Dmitri’s cheek in his hand, “Perhaps. Though, I don’t think most couples celebrate their anniversaries by going to a double gloryhole together,”

Dmitri giggles again, moaning as the person behind him begins to suck his t-dick, “And those couples are boring. They don’t have the confidence, taste, or sexual bravado we do. In a way, I almost feel bad for them,” 

Dagny giggles too, briefly shuddering as the tongue probes deeper inside him, “That much is true,” He feels his pussy dripping onto the floor below, along with the spit from the person’s tongue. Then, as soon as it had begun, the tongue pulled out of his asshole. Dmitri notices the change in Dagny’s demeanor, prompting him to ask, “What’s happening now?”

Dagny answers, “They withdrew, not sure if–” 

He then interrupts himself again as a massive knotted cock presses against his soaking wet pussy, the head breaching his entrance as it slides in slowly but surely. Dagny braces himself almost frantically, moaning uncontrollably as the folds of his cunt soon kiss the knot at the base. His eyes are rolling back, unable to truly process how full he now was. The words struggle to exit his mouth, but he pushes through the mental fog to speak to Dmitri,

“Really, really big cock, in my pussy, Tiefling possibly? Knot at the base,” He manages to push out between gasps and moans, before being visibly jostled by the harsh thrusting moments later. Dagny can hardly think, can hardly breathe as he’s all but treated like a sex toy for this stranger’s pleasure. He reaches out to hold Dmitri’s hand, seeking a small creature comfort as he’s pounded into next week.

Dmitri squeezes his hand, soon feeling the mouth pull away from his pussy. There’s a moment where he’s not sure who’s going to approach, before he feels a pair of rough, sturdy hands begin to knead and slap his ass. Dwarvish? Could also be Half-Orc, or a human from a rough trade. Some unscented oil spills onto his ass, cold and abrupt, before warm and slick fingers plunge into his asshole. The actions are not gentle, nor are they rough either. Thorough would be the word Dmitri would use, if he didn’t actively feel his higher brain functions shutting off in favor of whining like the whore he was.

Soon, the fingers withdrew, leaving a thick, heavy cock to sit between his cheeks. Dagny asks him, “How about you? What’s, oh gods yes, happening on your, hahhhh, end?”

Dmitri smiles, “Was originally getting my pussy ate, but I think I’m being prepped for–”

It was now Dmitri’s turn to interrupt himself, as said cock got slickened up, and slid into his ass in a one smooth motion. Dmitri’s eyes crossed, he bit his lip, and drooled arousal onto the floor below. He shivered in his spot, “Fuuuuuuuck, whoever’s cock is in my ass, it’s thick as hell~,”

Dmitri receives a grunt that sounded something like a thank you, before being smacked across the right asscheek, and promptly fucked hard and fast. This person was strong, but not strong enough to jostle Dmitri in the same way Dagny was.  Soon, the pair were being fucked beyond words, being so utterly full of cock that they could hardly think. Both were certain that a few strap-ons made their way inside too, but soon the details blurred between the guests. Both holes were used to the fullest extent, taking everything from tongue to fingers to cocks. The highlight of the evening was a Half-Orc with 2 cocks, ramming so fervently into both of Dagny’s holes that he came screaming, squirting all over the floor as he almost sobbed next to Dmitri. In turn, Dmitri’s best moment was holding onto at least 5 cumshots in his pussy, before exploding onto a dominatrix’s strap while she called him a good boy. 

By the time all the guests were satisfied, Dmitri and Dagny’s holes were full of spit, lube, and cum. Dmitri was fairly certain his asshole was gaping, but he couldn’t say for certain. Dagny was damn near non-verbal, only occasionally making noises that could maybe be Common. Or perhaps the incoherent ramblings of a man whose brain was scrambled like an egg, who’s to say? He looked over to Dmitri, smiling like a fool,

“Best…Anniversary…Ever,”

Dmitri snickers, “It’s our first anniversary, of course I had to make it the best one,” He leans over with a groan, kissing Dagny’s cheek before taking a deep breath, “Wanna get cleaned up and head home?”

Dagny nods, “Yeah, I want to suck your dick when we get in the shower,”

Dmitri outright barks a laugh, “And here they call me the insatiable one~,” He then sighs wistfully, “I love you,”

Dagny smiles back, “I love you too,”

Chapter Text

The battle fought at the Goblin Camp was not easy, with ogres and cultists aiding the ones outside of the abandoned Selunite temple. It took the party fighting tooth and nail to get out, sparing nothing in the way of thought or hesitation. By the time the party had gotten through the bulk of the fight, Aerdir and Dmitri were all but mindless killing machines. They functioned as 2 sides of the same viscous coin, 1 being compelled by an amnesiac shell of a mind fuelled by uncontrollable bloodlust. The other was compelled by Rage burning so hot in his veins, it threatened to burn him from the inside out. 

The rest of the party had scouted ahead after the fight was over, leaving Aerdir and Dmitri in the carnage of the battle. The bodies of goblins, hobgoblins, humanoid cultists, and ogres laid at their feet, dead and unmoving. In spite of the exhaustion both men felt, neither of them could shake the jittering manic energy coursing through their veins. Dmitri tried to stop the Rage, think of calm, non violent thoughts, but everything swirled back in that chaotic whirlpool of hate he knew so well. And if he was being honest with himself? He wanted–no, needed, to let himself be angry.

This entire journey thus far had been a shitshow on a grand scale. He got kidnapped from Baldur’s Gate while piss drunk, had to fight imps and Cambions while hungover and sad from a breakup, experience some the worst anti-Drow sentiment he had seen in years, and just now, had to fight his way through what is potentially the cult that put a stupid Mindflayer tadpole behind his eye. And on top of all of that? He hasn’t had a chance to fuck, even once. He already got grumpy when he could fuck for a day or two, but considering the past week and a half has had little to no time for himself? Dmitri was pissed, horny, and on the verge of mania to be frank. 

Aerdir fared little better, likening himself to little more than a feral dog at this moment. He can’t remember anything about himself, nothing concrete at least. Trying to think about it any further makes his head hurt like hell, throbbing with a dull ache all over. He can barely remember that his name is Aerdir, let alone that he has a connection to something, or someone? What, or who, they are is beyond his recognition, but it seems to be the supply of his power. Furthermore, he also seems to have a great affinity for murder, as something else whispers it to him, over and over. It’s maddening, hearing all the ways he could’ve ended his enemies, and his party members for that matter. Even now, when a deep tiredness rakes itself over his body, his hands twitch and his knuckles crack as he looks over to Dmitri. Oh how beautiful he would be, dying in Aerdir’s hands. Aerdir shuts the thoughts away, hushing them like an overzealous guard dog, barking at nothing in particular. 

Dmitri catches Aerdir’s gaze, getting a good look at him as he pants in shallow breaths. His leather armor had been torn to shreds during the fight, his hair was a complete mess, and he was covered in blood from head to toe. In turn, Aerdir got a good look at Dmitri, trying to catch his breath as sweat poured down his face. Dmitri’s already risque attire was ripped, and his makeup was messy from exertion. He was also stained with blood from head to toe, splattered in particular across his chest. Both men looked at each other hungrily, exchanging no words as they slowly stalked towards each other. 

One could mistake the moment for 2 predators, circling around each other before lunging for the other’s neck. To call what they did ‘kissing’ is a stretch indeed, as a kiss could imply romance, or even intimacy. Neither things were present as Dmitri and Aerdir ripped off the remaining clothes they had left, grappling each other with Dmitri clearly being the stronger of the 2. He barely had to tense his arms to throw Aerdir to a bare patch of ground in the courtyard. Aerdir growled in pain, eyeing Dmitri both in arousal, and in indignation. The second emotion is lost on Dmitri, as the part of his brain capable of rational thoughts and apologies was taking a long smoke break out back. 

As they continued to ‘kiss’, Aerdir let the sharp canines dig into Dmitri’s lip, making the latter now hiss in pain. The red crimson soon started to trickle out, and Aerdir’s semi textured tongue jumped out to lap it up. He could feel himself growing hot and heavy beneath what remained of his underwear, bucking and whining against the mass of Drow laying on top of him. With not only a foot of height difference between them, but the sheer amount of muscle Dmitri carried on his body. Dmitri decided to retaliate, pulling his semi-bloodied mouth from Aerdir’s, and returned the sentiment two-fold. He found the junction between his shoulder and neck, and bit down hard enough to feel that familiar red liquid pool gently in his mouth. Dmitri had not tasted blood in a long time, and the coppery taste was both new yet familiar all at once. 

Aerdir screamed, flailing underneath Dmitri as he grabbed onto his forearms. His sharp nails dug into them, soon decorating his arms with bright red lines of vermillion. Dmitri’s teeth were stained red as he came back up for air, with Aerdir pulling him in again for another ‘kiss’. The coppery tastes mingled, with both men thrusting their semi clothed pussies against each other. Finally, in a roar of frustration, Dmitri pulled away again to rip the final remnants of his and Aerdir’s clothes. For the first time, both of them were capable of speech.

“Oh, you’re trans too?” Aerdir rasped out, still barely coherent.

“Kinda? It’s a long story,” Dmitri rasps in return, “Tell you later?”

Aerdir nods furiously, “Fuck yeah,” He then yanks Dmitri back down, trying to lock his legs around Dmitri to flip them over. Dmitri holds him firmly where he lays, growling in return with little room for argument. Aerdir outright whimpers, feeling himself get wet enough to drip onto the ground below. Instead, he takes his already red stained nails, and drags them down Dmitri’s back. Admittedly, the pain of them dragging over Dmitri’s mark from Lolth hurts like a BITCH, but Dmitri is already out of it at best. He retaliates by grabbing Aerdir’s legs, shuffling himself over Aerdir until their pussies lined up together. During the motions, some blood spilled from a cut near Dmitri’s hip, making him briefly hiss in pain again. 

It trickled down to their pussies, and Aerdir longed to lick it, to taste the audacity of whoever managed to land a blow against this mountain of a man. This was already an encounter built on being unhinged and horny and probably downright mad, so what did Aerdir have to lose? He collected some of the blood pooling at his neck, pooling it between his fingers before reaching out for Dmitri’s T-dick, and rubbing it fervently. The sound Dmitri made was a hefty mix of shock, arousal, and downright animalistic. Dmitri knew he was a freak, but today was proving he had not yet explored every avenue present to him. 

He brought his hand to the cut on his hip, collecting some blood on his fingers before deciding to be a bit cheeky. He grins, before SMACKING Aerdir’s pussy, and leaving a bloody outline of his hand against it. Aerdir screams again, shivering in pleasure, pain, and downright shock. Before he can say anything, Dmitri begins to stroke his T-dick, before slotting their pussies together once he feels both of them are sufficiently wet. Both of them are far from quiet during this, growling and whining in the bloodied dirt. Dmitri began to roll his hips, making his T-dick rub against and slide around Aerdir’s in return. Aerdir howls in pleasure, doing his best to coordinate his movements along with Dmitri’s. Be that as it may, Dmitri and Aerdir knew exactly what this looked like. Furthermore, they knew exactly what this whole thing was. 

They were two bloodied, frenzied, altogether manic animals rutting against each other in a battlefield still littered with the dead. Both of them were pissed, exhausted, and horny, and for now? That’s all they needed to be. Aerdir was sad he couldn’t bite Dmitri again in this position, but he took satisfaction in scratching crimson red lines across freckle dappled thighs instead. The blood and the arousal slathered across their pussies mixed together, providing the unmistakable sounds of sex to both men’s ears. Both of them were already wound up like a tenday clock, so it was no surprise to either of them that they were rapidly approaching climax. 

It was hard to say who came first, as both men screamed and growled and bared their teeth like the beasts they were. The sticky, white arousal coated their pussies, with occasional pinkish red lines of blood. Their bodies were both covered in sweat, grime, and blood as well. Dmitri stayed in his position for a good while, before unceremoniously falling onto his ass. Several lines of arousal connected his pussy to Aerdir’s, as if he unglued himself from the Tiefling’s most intimate area. They panted, attempting to catch their breath as they stared at each other. 

Dmitri seemed to be a person again, as did Aerdir. Dmitri’s eyes no longer glowed bright with Wild Magic, and Aerdir’s hands no longer twitched. It was silent again, save for the birds and the rustle of leaves in the breeze. Dmitri spoke first, having to run his tongue around his mouth for moisture,

“Are you alright?” He asked tentatively. 

Aerdir didn’t answer for a while, having to do the same thing, 

“I…I think so.” 

Dmitri nods, before Aerdir adds with a giggle, “Think you could carry me back to camp? For better or for worse, I can’t feel my legs right now.”

Dmitri barks a tired laugh, “The moment I can feel mine again? You got yourself a deal,” 

Chapter Text

Sombul was a man who knew what he wanted. Yet to find the words for anyone around him to understand it proved a most difficult task indeed.  It was not as though he was a fool, or indecisive. Rather, the words he could speak would not be understood by anyone who isn’t from the Feywilds, or older than the dirt. It was maddening at times, truly and utterly! It made him feel as though he was trapped in his own skull, and the whispers of murder and bloodshed did not help in that regard either. To feel as though all he can do is pace around the empty yet abundantly full cavern of his mind made him want to yank at his scaly tendrils in a fit of rage! His tongue sat useless and uncomfortable in his mouth, and his teeth ached to all but bite everyone. Whether it was to attempt to push his thoughts and feelings into their skin, or to taste the sweet, coppery crimson rushing just beneath the surface? The jury was still out on that one. 

And yet, in spite of his inability to communicate with his fellow adventurers, there was one from the group who had done nothing but surprise him. The one who he would’ve assumed to be nothing but murderous, ill-tempered, and hot-headed? Proved to be his strongest ally, in more ways than one. Sombul could speak Common, but it was incredibly slow and broken. It made him occasionally wince, both from the headaches he got from trying to think too hard, and the sting of embarrassment knowing that he sounded as stupid as can be. And yet, the party member from whom he expected the shortest thread of patience from, continuously extended the thread for him. The tether of shared cultural and language disconnect was woven around him, and used to tug him into the conversation where he would normally exclude himself out of embarrassment. 

Dmitri was a very odd Drow. In some ways, Sombul almost suspected him of being a changeling much like himself, but it appeared that he was a Drow, through and through. He was unlike Sombul had met, both in presentation and personality. Where most Drow were cold, cruel, and charming only in the same way as a spider luring a fly is, Dmitri wasn’t like that at all. Kind, patient, and only really used his immense strength to punish those who had truly earned his ire. Not to mention, he was quite large for a Drow, standing only an inch shorter than himself. That is, without the heels of course. He dressed in an incredibly provocative manner, and was unapologetic in his discussions about sex, desire, and bodily autonomy. But most important of all? He made Sombul feel like he was not a monster, parading around in the skin of a charlatan. 

The night the Urge nearly overtook Sombul, Dmitri sat with him, unafraid to be within a few feet of the sometimes thrashing man. He talked about what it felt like to look at one’s hands, and to never see them as clean, no matter how much he scrubbed them raw. Furthermore, Dmitri knew what it felt like to leave home, and have no clue what he was doing. To enter a strange new world where the rules are all unwritten, and asking for a copy of the rulebook isn’t allowed. Where everything was loud, and unpredictable, and crying about the thunderstorm in the sky got him weird looks, rather than empathy. When Sombul finally came back to himself, exhausted and sweating from head to toe, he slumped himself against Dmitri in a hug that took all of his strength.

“You…Understand…” Sombul spoke to him, which shocked Dmitri. Prior to this point, they had been converting words from Drowic Sign Language for Sombul to communicate in a basic manner. This was the first time Dmitri had ever heard him speak. The rumble of his voice against Dmitri’s shoulder tickled him, making the smile in his voice audible to Sombul,

“Yeah, I understand,” He began, soon moving to hug Sombul back, “I think I understand better than most people.”

And thus began Sombul and Dmitri being nearly inseparable, fighting alongside each other like a long lost adventuring duo. Where one used a massive axe, the other used nothing but his bared, scaly fists. They were 2 sides of the same coin, even with their wildly different origins. Dmitri grew to understand Sombul more and more as the days passed by, to know all the ways he spoke, when not a single syllable was spoken. His head nods, the low rumbles in his throat, and the loose sign language in his palm. Dmitri liked the latter the most, in spite of how sharp his claws were, Sombul spoke so gently into his palm whenever he could. When a word could be applicable between Sylvan and Drow sign language, Sombul signed it so sweetly. It was always a formal word or sentence,

“Thy hair is the ocean. The foaming waves wash upon a shore most enchanting. How thy subject dazzles me, O’ siren, thou who plucked stars from the sky to dot across thy body, and claim to be naught but a man of flesh and bone.” 

For a man who many looked at warily, Dmitri could only see a man so tooth-achingly sweet, that kissing him was all the dessert he needed after dinner. Speaking thereof, Dmitri just nicely pulled his lips away from Sombul’s, having kissed him for the umpteenth time that evening. Kissing a Dragonborn was quite different from kissing a fellow humanoid, but it was not unfamiliar territory by any means. Sombul had to purse his lips a bit more to cover the rows of sharp, pointy teeth, as compared to Dmitri. His lips were also thin, and the unmistakable texture of dragon scales made for a very interesting kiss indeed. Sombul also had to be careful when coaxing Dmitri’s tongue into his mouth, his teeth were much sharper than a humanoid’s. Still, all of these roadblocks did nothing to stop Dmitri from kissing the beautiful man beneath him silly. 

The air in the tent was warm, dancing on the edge of muggy as Dmitri rode 1 of Sombul’s cocks, letting the other grind between his supple asscheeks. The lucky cock of the 2 was nestled between the walls of his warm, undulating pussy. His pace was unhurried, opting to grind his hips back and forth rather than bounce up and down. Sombul’s cock stayed at least half inserted for most of the motions, with the head of his cock getting more and more familiar with the deepest reaches of his lover. Sombul let small groans and growls escape from his jaws, the timbre of them were so low, Dmitri almost couldn’t hear them. But he knew that despite Sombul’s facial expression being a bit harder to read, he knew that what he was doing made him feel very good. 

First and foremost, the scales of his body glowed a lovely hue of pink, from head to toe. In some ways it felt like blushing, gesturing towards that which most would call human. And yet, to Dmitri, it felt more like Sombul mimicking the pearlescent waves of an ocean at sunset. So many colors mixed together to make the silvery-pink hue that blanketed itself over Sombul, and Dmitri couldn’t take his eyes off of him if he tried. Dmitri moaned softly, holding one of Sombul’s hands as a weight of reassurance in a sea of pleasure threatening to sweep him away. It also doubled as a means of communication, with 2 squeezes meaning to pause, and 3 squeezes meaning to stop completely. 

Sombul squeezed Dmitri’s hand twice, which prompted Dmitri to halt his hips, and briefly felt the cock within him sit flush against his G-spot. His legs shake as he addresses Sombul,

“Is, oh gods that’s deep, ohhhhh, is everything alright?”

Sombul nods slowly, finding his words even slower,

“Feels…good…you are…beautiful…”

Sombul’s hand comes up to cradle Dmitri’s face, who leans into the touch by rubbing his cheek against the scaly hand.

“You’re so sweet to me Baby,” Dmitri purrs, before asking further, “Got a little overwhelmed then?” He knew that it took a lot for Sombul to speak, and was delighted to know his time teaching him Common was paying off.

Sombul is slow to answer, turning a bit red around his cheeks,

“Feels…” He growls a bit in frustration, “Words…cannot find…”

Dmitri smiles, shining sincerity across his eyes like a beacon, “Embarrassing?”

Sombul nods, “That word…for…fluttering stomach?”

Dmitri moves to kiss his palm, “Yeah, that’s the word. And it’s okay, sex is pretty overwhelming. Let alone sex with someone like me,” 

He lets Sombul digest the words, before asking him, “Do you want to continue? Or would you rather cuddle naked?”

Sombul weighs the options, before answering again, “Continue…faster…slower feels…overwhelming,”

Dmitri leans down to kiss him again, pulling up after a moment and kissing his forehead, “I can do that, fast pace it is⁓,”

He began to bounce his hips up and down, his moans picking up in volume as he did so. “How’s this baby⁓?”

Sombul’s scales glistened an even brighter pink, with his hand now holding Dmitri’s hip. The other hand holds Dmitri’s hand still, the weight of his firm yet gentle grasp makes his heart flutter like a sky full of fireflies. He’s not a loud lover by any means, but the low rumbles coming from his throat increase in volume alongside his lover’s. Dmitri’s walls were warm, and damn near velvet around his cock. Even the cock not inserted into him was still being stimulated well enough to remain hard, if not just as on the edge of cumming too. The slow and unhurried pace of earlier had the unintended side effect of edging both him and Dmitri. So it was no surprise that once Dmitri started bouncing on his cock in earnest, the sounds of pre-climax exclaims of pleasure were in abundance. 

Dmitri talked dirty to Sombul, even if he knew he would likely not get a verbal response, “Fuck, your cock feels amazing in my pussy⁓, bet you wish it was both in there⁓,”

To Dmitri’s surprise, Sombul did speak, even grinning as his sharp teeth gleamed in the low light of the tent, “Do not…tempt me…with…such an offer…”

Dmitri was taken so off-guard, he didn’t notice Sombul shifting to bend his knees, and began to plow Dmitri’s pussy from underneath him. Dmitri let out a loud moan in surprise, propping himself partially on Sombul’s chest as he lets himself get fucked.

“Ah, ah, ah, ah!” Came the staccato moans as Sombul pounded him without mercy, feeling his tail wrap around his leg to further secure him in place. Dmitri had barely a moment to voice his climax, before cumming with a moan that punched itself from his gut. The sound was a bit loud to Sombul’s earholes, but he could endure the brief overstimulation as he came with a low growl. He flooded Dmitri’s pussy with cum, whilst the cock between his asscheeks spurted hot, thick ropes against Dmitri’s back. The knot nearly pops, the threat of it gently pushes his cheeks apart as it sits hot and heavy. Dmitri almost falls forward, bracing himself with Sombul’s hand held in his. 

He giggles a bit, “You cheeky little thing⁓,”

Sombul smiles, welcoming Dmitri to lean down to be his personal weighted blanket for the afterglow portion of the evening. Perhaps it was the draconic ancestry talking, but of all the aspects of sex he enjoyed, the warmth and reassurance of a warm, heavy man laying on him has yet to ever lose its charm. 

Sombul kissed Dmitri’s forehead, before speaking,

“Guilty…as…Charged,”

Chapter Text

Judas sighs, staring into his cosmopolitan. He runs his finger along the rim of the glass, while his cheek sits against his fist, and his elbows rest on the table. He looks altogether like a dragon who lost its fire, and it made Dmitri’s heart tug in his chest. He sits at the table with him, while the club around them blares music. Othello was off making out with his boyfriend in the bathroom, so that left Judas and Dmitri to be each other company for the evening. 

“Everything alright?” Dmitri asks him, yanking Judas from his brooding like a sidestage cane. 

Judas tries to brush it off, feigning a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and letting his wrist fall limp, “Oh! I’m fineeeee⁓, don’t worry!” 

Dmitri quirked a brow, “Uh-huh, and I’m an ardent worshipper of Queen SpiderBitch down below. Now we’ve both said something untrue,”

Judas sighed again, “Damn you, and those big ears. They’re so big because they’re full of secrets⁓,” He collects his thoughts before speaking again, “I’m just, sigh, haven’t had a good hookup in a while. The last couple I’ve had have been fun, but like…? I dunno,”

He throws back the rest of his drink, wiping his mustache before he returns to his position of sulking. “Is it me? Am I the problem?”

Dmitri scoffs lightheartedly, “Pffft, you? No way,” He then shifts his demeanor to be a bit more serious, “Did someone say some shit to you? Putting this nonsense in your head? Because if so, I am happy to crack open a can of whoop ass–” 

Judas waves his hand dismissively, giggling humorlessly all the while, “ No no, you know damn well I would’ve kicked their ass long before Big Bitch ExtrodinareTM would’ve had the chance,” He accents the nickname with a playful punch to Dmitri’s shoulder. Dmitri jokingly recoils in pain, rubbing the attempted bruise at his pride.

Judas collects his thoughts again, “My hook-ups have felt…empty? Like a big, nothingburger. And…” He goes to say something further, but stops himself. Dmitri scoots over, putting a hand on Judas’s shoulder, “And?” He echoes Judas, encouraging him to continue.

Judas mulls it over, “And…it’s the anniversary of the stupid mistake that made me look like this.” He gestures to his face, briefly catching the textured skin of his scar. 

Dmitri puts 2 and 2 together quickly, “Ohhhhhhhh, I see what’s going on,”

He then scoots back over, soon looking deep in thought. Judas cracks a small grin, “Oh no, you’ve got an idea brewing. And ideas from you are always trouble,”

Dmitri giggles, sticking his tongue out at him, “Bitch pleaseeeee, you love my ideas. Remember that gloryhole visit for your birthday?”

Judas smiles at the memory, “Bitch, does a Bulette cause an earthquake⁓? Of course I remember it,” He sigh wistfully now, “I’m pretty sure I came dry around the 3rd hour there,”

Dmitri smiles, finally seeing that sour expression leave Judas’s face. A bad bitch like him didn’t look right when he was glum and morose. “Then you know you can trust my ideas,” He extends a hand out to Judas to help him off the barstool, “C’mon, let’s get out of here,”

Judas takes his hand, hopping off the stool with a small oof, “What about Othello? Do you trust that forest twink to get home alright?”

Dmitri thinks about it for a moment, holding Judas's hand as they walk away from the table. “Hmmmm, good point. Let’s go check on him to be sure,”

The pair make their way over to the men’s room, where the sound of Othello’s enthusiastic participation in quality time with his boyfriend could be heard through the door. Most of the other club patrons in the room disregard it, going about their business as if a man isn’t getting his back blown out on the other end of the room.

“HEY BITCH!” Dmitri shouts over the thump of music from the walls, to which Othello makes a vague sound of recognition. He responds, fuckdrunk and whimsical,

“That’s one of my nameeeeeeees,” He says with a giggle, soon moaning when Ryon tries to speed up, “What’s, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhh, What’s up?”

Dmitri walks over, not even phased that Othello is actively being fucked by his lover, “I’m gonna take Judas home, think you can make it on your own tonight?”

Ryon speeds up again, making Othello have to fight to get the words out, “I–OH FUCK YES! I can, hahhhhh, Ryon⁓, I’m trying to talk and you’re being meannnnnn⁓,”

Ryon purrs into his ear, “Too bad⁓,”

He then answers Dmitri in Othello’s stead, “He’s only had 2 drinks, and I’ll make sure he gets back to our place in one piece,”

Othello chimes in, “And full of cum toooooooooo⁓,”

Ryon turns to spank his ass, growling in his ear, “Damn right⁓,”

Othello whines, biting his lip as he loses his common tongue as he moans against the wall.

Dmitri and Judas snicker as they give the happy couple a wave, departing with the latter saying, “Don’t rough him up too much⁓,” 

The two traverse the club, soon exiting into the cool night air of Baldur’s Gate. While it wasn’t uncommon for Judas and Dmitri to occasionally hook-up if they couldn’t find a partner for the evening, it had been some time. And admittedly? Judas was still feeling a bit insecure. But if there was anyone he trusted, it was Dmitri. Meeting by happenstance some years ago, he had yet to find someone who rivalled Dmitri in friendship. Sure, maybe the word ‘friendship’ was pushing the envelope, but Dmitri didn’t seem bothered by labels, and neither was Judas. They existed as besties, in the aptly named group, “The Free Use Fellowship”. And sometimes, those besties had sex for fun. He was almost bummed that Téadóir and Sombul couldn’t make it out tonight, but he knew Sombul and Téadóir were having some necessary couple’s time. 

Soon, they made it back to Dmitri’s place, a small cottage nestled in the fenced backyard of a local apothecary. He was brought inside, with Dmitri taking off his heels as he rustled his hair in the mirror on his boudoir. Judas took off his shoes as well, before walking over and hoisting himself up onto Dmitri’s bed. Dmitri looked over at the new addition to his bed, smiling as he walked over to sit with him.

“Alright,” He begins, “This involves something you might be afraid of. I want to be transparent about that,”

Judas quirks a brow, “Men who only wanna fuck if it’s on the down low?”

Dmitri barks a laugh, “No, something you’re afraid of, not something you avoid with a ten foot pole.” 

He rummages in the bedside table drawer, before he finds what he’s looking for. “Aha!” He then holds a few different colored candles in his hand, long and slender.

Judas is still a bit lost, “...Are those going up my a–”

Dmitri has to fight to not laugh again, “No no, these are candles meant for a specific kind of kink,”

Judas thinks on for a moment, before finally putting 2 and 2 together. “Ooooooooooh…” He wrings his hands nervously. “Would it…ya know, hurt?”

Dmitri answers honestly, “Yes and no? It’s kinda like getting spanked. It’ll hurt, but it also feels really good,”

Judas nodded slowly, he understood the pain pleasure thing from impact play. But this? This was unfamiliar territory. Coming from him? Such a phrase seldom left his lips when the bedroom was being discussed. Admittedly, he stayed away from anything kinky that involved fire. Or burning. And he distinctly remembers avoiding outright glassware for a while.  Him being able to have that cosmopolitan earlier was a testament to how far he had come in terms of his fear.

Dmitri could sense his apprehension, “If you’d prefer, we can also try this a different night. And we can figure out something else to do,”

Judas digests the words, shaking his head, “No I, I think this might be good for me. I trust you,”

Dmitri smiles, kissing his forehead, “Good,” 

Soon, the usual dance of kisses and clothing coming off commences. For both men, it was much like slipping into a warm bath, familiar yet tantalizing all at once. Judas found the weight of Dmitri pressing on top of him a creature comfort in a way. Dmitri in turn found having a partner easily overpowered by his actions to be dizzying levels of arousing. Soon enough, both men were panting hot and heavy against each other’s mouths. Dmitri pulled away first, a line of spit connected their mouths for a moment.

He giggled, “You look good with my lipstick⁓,”

Judas returns the candor, “Bitch, I look good in everything⁓,”

Dmitri sticks his tongue out at him playfully, before grabbing the candle next to Judas. He also grabs a towel, prompting Judas to sit up so it could be laid underneath him. The brief coolness of the towel relaxed him further, grounding him. The occasional image of that awful, molten glass flashes across his shut eyelids, making him involuntarily squirm.

Dmitri catches this, cradling Judas’s cheek in his hand, the other holding the unlit candle, “Hey, talk to me,”

Judas opens his eyes, not even realizing he had closed them again. “Sorry, I’m good still. Just, a little nervous,”

Dmitri reassures him again, thumbing his cheek with a well manicured black nail, “You got this, I think it could really help you. And it was good timing anyways, need to ask your safeword,”

Judas leans into the touch, taking a deep breath in and out, “Glitter,” 

Dmitri smiles at him, kissing his forehead again, “Good. My safeword is Spider,”

Dmitri gets up from the bed for a moment, retrieving a box of matches, a pitcher of water, and a butt plug that was big, but not too big. He strode back over to Judas, “Still prepped?”

Judas nods, “When have you ever known me to come to the club without prepping myself?”

Dmitri giggles, “Fair enough. Hike your legs up baby⁓,”

Judas does so happily, hooking his arms underneath the bend of his knees. Dmitri retrieves the lube from his bedside table, slickens a finger or two, and gently inserts them into Judas. With Duergar having big hands, the size difference between him and Dmitri isn’t that substantial in that regard. What pulls a sigh from Judas’s lips is the different orientation from how those fingers enter him, prodding him open with ease. 1 finger becomes 2, and soon the plug is pressing against his entrance. 

His cock sat hard and dribbled pre-cum down to his balls, though it stood little taller than Dmitri’s t-dick. In a way, there was something almost gender-affirming about sharing a similarly sized package. That thought gave Dmitri a devious little idea, smirking like a smug housecat. Judas catches it again,

“Oh no, what’s going through that deviant little mind?”

Dmitri answers him after he gets the butt plug nestled deep into Judas’s hole. “An idea most intriguing,”

He slots himself between Judas’s legs, as if to peg him. Instead, He slots his T-dick against Judas’s micro-cock, and begins to gently grind against it. Judas was already feeling flush in the cheeks from finally getting his backdoor opened, but the combined stimulation took him off guard. Dmitri wipes his lubed hand on an open expanse of the towel, reaching for the candle and the matches. He strikes the box, soon having a small flicker of fire in his hand. He lights the candle, making sure to gauge Judas’s reaction all the while. Judas watches with a mix of emotions; trepidation, dread, curiosity, and trust. He watches the flame like so many humanoids have before him. All but bewitched  by that elusive, destructive, and altogether hypnotic aspect of nature. 

The candle burns for a moment, while Dmitri explains his next actions, “First and foremost, this wax will not go on your cock, nipples, or anything above your chest. The wax peels off easily, and whatever wax doesn’t? Will come off during your next bath. The sensation is hard to describe? It hurts, but it also feels good. Like, getting into a bath that’s a little too hot, but it feels good too,”

Judas nods, still a little nervous, but ready, “Alright. Paint me like one of your Comyrian girls⁓,”

Dmitri lets the candle burn enough to have a small pool of magenta colored wax at the top. He angles the candle over the middle of Judas’s chest, only letting small drips drop from it. Judas briefly hisses in pain, but the involuntary motion makes his cock brush against the folds of Dmitri’s cunt, lulling the pain to a dull ache. It was hot, and it burned. But, it wasn’t like the accident. It wasn’t overwhelming, or scary, or even sudden. Dmitri told him when the heat was coming, he prepared him for the burn, and provided comfort when it came. 

Dmitri speaks again, “How’re you feeling?”

Judas didn’t realize he was holding his breath, taking a gasping breath of relief. He even laughed a bit in shock, “It hurts…but, it also doesn’t?” He looks at Dmitri in amazement, “What bullshit did you pull?”

Dmitri scoffs with a smile, “None at all! This is just wax that burns at a lower temperature, so it doesn’t burn you when it comes into contact with your skin,”

Judas still stares at it in amazement, purplish-pink dots across his nightly ocean skin. “Do it again,” He says, looking up at Dmitri with a sparkle in his eyes like the stars above, “Do it again!”

Dmitri giggles, feeling his infectious enthusiasm, “Alright, alright,” He begins to pour a few lines across Judas’s chest, venturing down to his stomach in daring little gestures. Judas, already a vocal lover, is letting Dmitri know exactly how good it feels. One of the benefits of having as small a cock as he has, he slips easily between Dmitri’s soaking wet folds. It wasn’t big enough to actually penetrate him, but that didn’t matter at all. While the butt plug wasn’t anything special, it was a familiar sensation that kept him both aroused, yet grounded in reality. Anytime the heat reminded him of that awful day, the plug would nudge against his prostate, or Dmitri’s other lips would beckon his cock into pulsating with arousal. 

Soon the first candle had burned down to a stub, prompting Dmitri to blow it out completely. It hardly even smoked, or perhaps Judas wasn’t paying all that much attention to it. By the time the long and slender candle burned to a shell of its former self, Judas was painted like a sunset on the cusp of evening. He rutted against Dmitri’s cunt, grabbing his hips to beckon him closer. All the dots, splotches, and lines of cooling wax against his skin burned, but not like the kind that hurt him all those years ago. It burned like sexual passion itself, the heat that warmed his belly when a hot man first approached him. It burned like the first time he experienced sexual pleasure, the quiet nights locked away in his room with only his imagination. It was intense, it was all-consuming, and it threatened to burn him completely. 

And yet, as the heat came to a crescendo, he couldn’t find it in himself to be afraid anymore. He came with a loud whine, gripping Dmitri’s hips tightly as he came against his stomach and thighs. He walked into that inferno of heat, letting himself be molded anew. He realized why the heat didn’t scare him, at least not here. When the heat of the glass-blower threatened to blind him forever, he was all alone, forging for a sense of purpose. He was reckless, and ignored so many red flags he feared himself colorblind.

But now? Now, he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t desperately searching for a sense of purpose, or attention, or anything for that matter. He was not the glass blower here, pushed into the perilous role of controlling a dangerous yet mesmerizing beast. He was the glass, lovingly caressed and massaged by a tantalizing warmth, and the careful gestures of patient, well-worn hands. He was the work of art this time, and it well and truly took his breath away.

Dmitri lined up his hips just right, pressing the sensitive head of his t-dick against Judas as he came. He squirted against the joined area of their pelvises, thankfully being caught majorly by the towel below. Both men rode out their climaxes, rutting against each other before they finally regained their breaths. Judas blinks, slowly focusing his eyes to see the ceiling, and then pointing his head down to see Dmitri. They both stare into each other’s eyes for a while, before Judas finds the words first,

“Wow…”

Dmitri giggles, “Yeah, I get that alot⁓,”

Judas blinks for a moment, before pushing Dmitri’s smug, cat-like grin away with a snort, “Shut uppppppp, that’s my line!”

Dmitri giggles, “And what is copying, but the most sincere form of flattery⁓?”

Judas laughs, “What would be the most sincere form of flattery is not crushing my dick under your fat pussy,”

Dmitri scoots off Judas with a bark of laughter, “You love my fat pussy, don’t deny it⁓,” 

Judas is laughing by this point with Dmitri, “Do you hear a bitch denying it?” He then stretches, scratching his belly. Before he can speak further, Dmitri responds,

“Wanna go raid the snack cabinet?”

Judas smiles, “Hell yeah, but you’ll have to carry this ho,”

Dmitri kisses his forehead, “Like I would have it any other way⁓,” 

Chapter Text

Hey everyone. I am sincerely sorry to announce that Kinktober will be put on a brief hold. My dad passed unexpectedly tonight, a heart attack at the age of 60. As his only child, it will be my sole responsibility to arrange the funeral and take care of his last rites. 

I hope to pick this up again once I have gotten pass the grieving stage. I made a promise to the people whose Tavs/Durges I hold dear. 

Wish you all well, 

-Charlie