“Down you get, Pickle,” Vax says, and, “Whee,” Pike says dizzily, her warmth lifting up and away from him. Even with the pain beginning to break through him, he’s still genuinely aroused enough to whine softly at the loss of contact as he slips out of her. She kisses him hard and fast on the mouth and then he hears the squeak of a chair as she sits down.
Then Vex’s hands are on him, quick and gentle as they remove the ring, and Percy lets out a cry that’s part pain and part relief.
“Oh, darling,” Vex says, and her mouth comes down on him. She kisses his sac, the base of his shaft, the inside of one thigh, and runs her tongue slow and soothing along the underside of his cock. It more than eases the pain.
“Vex, I’ll—”
“You’ll be all right.” She licks a drop—more than a drop—of fluid off the head of his cock. “I know you can hold it for me. Can’t you?”
Percy is not at all sure that he can, not with her soft mouth on him when she’s not speaking, but he manages to make a noise of assent.
“Good boy.” She lifts away, much to his discontent. Then there’s the cool lip of a potion vial at his mouth. Percy lets the fluid trickle down over his tongue, despite the fact that he doesn’t think he needs healing. It tastes of the usual healing potion, sweet and light, but with a tang to it like the spiced candies he recalls trying in Ank’Harel. He can’t imagine that it’s drugged, not when Vex is the one who he trusts most.
“You can hold it,” she repeats, and suddenly Percy remembers what they’ve agreed about endurance spells... and potions. “Now... where were we?”
“Pike, have I served you well now?” Percy asks.
Pike giggles breathlessly. “Oh yeah. Definitely.”
“Have I served everyone else well?” He knows it’s Grog’s turn next and, despite his practice with Orthax, he’s a little afraid.
“You’re very inspirational, de Rolo,” Vax says. “I wouldn’t mind seconds.”
“I think Grog should have his first go before anyone gets seconds,” Vex disagrees.
“Pike already got to go twice. I don’t mind Vax goin’ twice,” Grog says.
“No, my sister’s right. Grog, he’s all yours.” Percy hears Keyleth squeak with surprise and guesses that Vax has pulled her into an embrace. Certainly it’s followed up with kissing sounds, which Vex complements with a quiet faux-vomiting noise.
Percy can’t pay too much attention to their shenanigans, though, because Grog is fussing between his thighs, shifting a new cushion in under Percy’s ass to lift him even higher.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Scanlan says, and Percy feels the whole table lift up. “Better, big guy?”
“Much.” Grog takes the second cushion away; Percy certainly feels a lot more stable with just the one, although he imagines he wouldn’t be able to fall very far with Grog on top of him.
“I imagined you’d have him on his stomach.” Vex sounds a little disappointed. “Isn’t that more of a barbarian way to fuck?”
“I like watchin’ ladies’ faces,” Grog says, easing the plug out of Percy’s ass. “They go all pretty when they get off.” His deep laugh rumbles through Percy’s body. “I bet Percy’s pretty too.”
“He is,” Vex says, much to the dismay of her brother—and Percy himself, to an extent. Sharing him like this is one thing; oversharing the things that happen in private between just the two of them is another thing entirely.
Grog laughs and Percy hears the oil bottle come into play again, and then feels the slick press of Grog’s finger into him. While Scanlan’s earlier spell cleaned him up, he’s still open thanks to the plug, and Grog’s single finger works easily into him. Percy manages to relax into the touch and then rise to meet it, encouraging Grog with his body.
“Look at that.” Vax sounds impressed. “So much done to him tonight and he’s still begging for more.”
“Percy de Rolo, whore of Whitestone,” Keyleth says with slow deliberation. Percy shivers at the obscenity in her sweet voice. Grog takes it as an invitation to work a second finger into him, and Percy’s reaction—another sharp jerk of his hips—does nothing to gainsay Vax and Keyleth’s words. “You must have read some interesting books when you were younger.”
The fact that this is also true, on top of the stories that he could tell her about Orthax, makes Percy blush. He remembers coming across his first particularly salacious book when he was only twelve, not knowing entirely what was going on until the first illustration. It had been enchanted to move, too.
Maybe he’ll tell them all that when he’s not being finger-fucked stupid by Grog.
Grog’s got him stretched more than Vax did on only two fingers, and Percy can feel the blunt nudge of Grog’s cock against his thigh. If he could reasonably plead inexperience, then maybe Grog would let him off with something simpler.
But they all know about Orthax now.
Percy’s not in a place for thoughtful contemplation, but he does remember the moment when Orthax first broke through in his dreams, bringing him a dreadful dark seduction that he’d guiltily embraced time and again.
“He’s so pretty when he blushes,” Grog observes, reaching his other hand forward to stroke Percy’s burning cheek. “What’re you thinking about to do that, Percy?”
Percy takes a deep breath and begins to tell them the full story of Orthax. About the side they don’t know. They know about the guns and the vengeance and the shadow. What they don’t know is about the violent embraces that turned from dreams to reality one night.
And all the other nights when Orthax manifested after that, once the demon realized that Percy was allowing him access to his body as well as his mind.
“That’s awful,” Pike says quietly. Grog is frozen in place, one hand on Percy’s cheek, the other cupping his ass.
“I know it sounds that way. But...” Percy swallows hard. “It really wasn’t.”
If they ask him to explain how the darkness could be so good to him he’s going to have to stop everything, change his name, leave forever.
“So this is all right?” Grog asks, easing his fingers back inside Percy.
“Yes. Gods, yes.” Percy feels like laughing and crying. Grog’s fingers are hitting just the right spot inside him and he really only needs just the right touch on his cock to come. Although who knows how long Vex’s potion is made to last? He’s never going to be able to look Gilmore in the eye again.
“Can I—”
“Yes, Grog, you can fuck me.”
“Oh wow,” Pike murmurs.
Grog says nothing else. For a man iffy on how letters and numbers work, he’s got an excellent grasp on the concept of consent. Now that he’s reconfirmed that part, he’s intent on—well, on Percy. One thick finger trails along the underside of Percy’s cock, and Percy jumps at the unexpected touch.
“Gods!”
“You’re bigger ‘n Scanlan,” Grog observes.
There is a long, fairly awkward silence that is broken by Keyleth bursting out into hysterical laughter.
“I’d like to note that size comparisons between different races are by definition unfair,” Scanlan says, sounding supremely offended.
Percy can’t disagree, but he also can’t keep from picking up on Keyleth’s infectious giggling, and it’s while he’s shaking with laughter that Grog pushes into him. It still hurts at first, but Percy’s distracted enough—Vex and Vax are both laughing as well, and Pike is practically sobbing with mirth—that it’s not too much.
Percy stops laughing when Grog starts moving in earnest.
He knew, coming into this, that the intimate moments with everyone would be very different to that which he had experienced in the past. Size wise, Grog is closest to Orthax. But the difference is in the way that Grog treats him. Rather than whatever it was that Vex had expected when she’d referred to “fucking like a barbarian”, Grog’s careful and considerate. He can’t quite be gentle—there’s too much of him for that—but Percy finds himself very quickly raising his hips to Grog’s every controlled thrust, his breath turning fast and coming out in small cries.
It makes sense. Grog’s probably got to be this considerate with the more standard-issue whores that he beds. Though there are those who embrace being be hurt for the right price, Percy imagines that Grog doesn’t go in for that.
Grog shifts position, unceremoniously shoving one arm under Percy’s knee and lifting him for a better angle. His skin slaps against Percy’s and Percy cries out again, Grog’s name coming off his tongue in a way he’d never imagined it would except in the deepest most secret parts of his mind.
He can feel their eyes on him, watching, waiting to see if this will be what puts him over the edge. Keyleth’s stopped laughing and is making small whimpering noises; Percy can hear soft wet sounds that suggest very strongly that someone is playing with her.
“Fuck, Percy, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Grog rumbles, and then Percy feels the thick pulse of Grog spending inside him. It’s a strange sensation, because he feels it much more than with Vax. It’s an unfair comparison, as Scanlan said, to contrast people of two very different races. But there it is, and he’s sure that if Vex hadn’t slipped him that potion he’d be spilling his own seed as a consequence.
Grog holds still for a minute, breathing deeply, and then pulls out. The trickle of fluid out of Percy that follows is unpleasant, but Scanlan’s there with another spell to clean up. It may even be that he’s performed this task for Grog before, making his experiences with ladies of the night as comfortable for both parties as possible. Certainly Grog’s consideration speaks to having to be delicate with past human sized-partners.
Percy’s willing to bet none of Exandria’s courtesans have been fucked by a demon, though.
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timeasmymeasure
See Me At My Worst, 9/11 (Percy/Vox Machina, NC-17)
Date: 2016-12-02 12:17 pm (UTC)Then Vex’s hands are on him, quick and gentle as they remove the ring, and Percy lets out a cry that’s part pain and part relief.
“Oh, darling,” Vex says, and her mouth comes down on him. She kisses his sac, the base of his shaft, the inside of one thigh, and runs her tongue slow and soothing along the underside of his cock. It more than eases the pain.
“Vex, I’ll—”
“You’ll be all right.” She licks a drop—more than a drop—of fluid off the head of his cock. “I know you can hold it for me. Can’t you?”
Percy is not at all sure that he can, not with her soft mouth on him when she’s not speaking, but he manages to make a noise of assent.
“Good boy.” She lifts away, much to his discontent. Then there’s the cool lip of a potion vial at his mouth. Percy lets the fluid trickle down over his tongue, despite the fact that he doesn’t think he needs healing. It tastes of the usual healing potion, sweet and light, but with a tang to it like the spiced candies he recalls trying in Ank’Harel. He can’t imagine that it’s drugged, not when Vex is the one who he trusts most.
“You can hold it,” she repeats, and suddenly Percy remembers what they’ve agreed about endurance spells... and potions. “Now... where were we?”
“Pike, have I served you well now?” Percy asks.
Pike giggles breathlessly. “Oh yeah. Definitely.”
“Have I served everyone else well?” He knows it’s Grog’s turn next and, despite his practice with Orthax, he’s a little afraid.
“You’re very inspirational, de Rolo,” Vax says. “I wouldn’t mind seconds.”
“I think Grog should have his first go before anyone gets seconds,” Vex disagrees.
“Pike already got to go twice. I don’t mind Vax goin’ twice,” Grog says.
“No, my sister’s right. Grog, he’s all yours.” Percy hears Keyleth squeak with surprise and guesses that Vax has pulled her into an embrace. Certainly it’s followed up with kissing sounds, which Vex complements with a quiet faux-vomiting noise.
Percy can’t pay too much attention to their shenanigans, though, because Grog is fussing between his thighs, shifting a new cushion in under Percy’s ass to lift him even higher.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Scanlan says, and Percy feels the whole table lift up. “Better, big guy?”
“Much.” Grog takes the second cushion away; Percy certainly feels a lot more stable with just the one, although he imagines he wouldn’t be able to fall very far with Grog on top of him.
“I imagined you’d have him on his stomach.” Vex sounds a little disappointed. “Isn’t that more of a barbarian way to fuck?”
“I like watchin’ ladies’ faces,” Grog says, easing the plug out of Percy’s ass. “They go all pretty when they get off.” His deep laugh rumbles through Percy’s body. “I bet Percy’s pretty too.”
“He is,” Vex says, much to the dismay of her brother—and Percy himself, to an extent. Sharing him like this is one thing; oversharing the things that happen in private between just the two of them is another thing entirely.
Grog laughs and Percy hears the oil bottle come into play again, and then feels the slick press of Grog’s finger into him. While Scanlan’s earlier spell cleaned him up, he’s still open thanks to the plug, and Grog’s single finger works easily into him. Percy manages to relax into the touch and then rise to meet it, encouraging Grog with his body.
“Look at that.” Vax sounds impressed. “So much done to him tonight and he’s still begging for more.”
“Percy de Rolo, whore of Whitestone,” Keyleth says with slow deliberation. Percy shivers at the obscenity in her sweet voice. Grog takes it as an invitation to work a second finger into him, and Percy’s reaction—another sharp jerk of his hips—does nothing to gainsay Vax and Keyleth’s words. “You must have read some interesting books when you were younger.”
The fact that this is also true, on top of the stories that he could tell her about Orthax, makes Percy blush. He remembers coming across his first particularly salacious book when he was only twelve, not knowing entirely what was going on until the first illustration. It had been enchanted to move, too.
Maybe he’ll tell them all that when he’s not being finger-fucked stupid by Grog.
Grog’s got him stretched more than Vax did on only two fingers, and Percy can feel the blunt nudge of Grog’s cock against his thigh. If he could reasonably plead inexperience, then maybe Grog would let him off with something simpler.
But they all know about Orthax now.
Percy’s not in a place for thoughtful contemplation, but he does remember the moment when Orthax first broke through in his dreams, bringing him a dreadful dark seduction that he’d guiltily embraced time and again.
“He’s so pretty when he blushes,” Grog observes, reaching his other hand forward to stroke Percy’s burning cheek. “What’re you thinking about to do that, Percy?”
Percy takes a deep breath and begins to tell them the full story of Orthax. About the side they don’t know. They know about the guns and the vengeance and the shadow. What they don’t know is about the violent embraces that turned from dreams to reality one night.
And all the other nights when Orthax manifested after that, once the demon realized that Percy was allowing him access to his body as well as his mind.
“That’s awful,” Pike says quietly. Grog is frozen in place, one hand on Percy’s cheek, the other cupping his ass.
“I know it sounds that way. But...” Percy swallows hard. “It really wasn’t.”
If they ask him to explain how the darkness could be so good to him he’s going to have to stop everything, change his name, leave forever.
“So this is all right?” Grog asks, easing his fingers back inside Percy.
“Yes. Gods, yes.” Percy feels like laughing and crying. Grog’s fingers are hitting just the right spot inside him and he really only needs just the right touch on his cock to come. Although who knows how long Vex’s potion is made to last? He’s never going to be able to look Gilmore in the eye again.
“Can I—”
“Yes, Grog, you can fuck me.”
“Oh wow,” Pike murmurs.
Grog says nothing else. For a man iffy on how letters and numbers work, he’s got an excellent grasp on the concept of consent. Now that he’s reconfirmed that part, he’s intent on—well, on Percy. One thick finger trails along the underside of Percy’s cock, and Percy jumps at the unexpected touch.
“Gods!”
“You’re bigger ‘n Scanlan,” Grog observes.
There is a long, fairly awkward silence that is broken by Keyleth bursting out into hysterical laughter.
“I’d like to note that size comparisons between different races are by definition unfair,” Scanlan says, sounding supremely offended.
Percy can’t disagree, but he also can’t keep from picking up on Keyleth’s infectious giggling, and it’s while he’s shaking with laughter that Grog pushes into him. It still hurts at first, but Percy’s distracted enough—Vex and Vax are both laughing as well, and Pike is practically sobbing with mirth—that it’s not too much.
Percy stops laughing when Grog starts moving in earnest.
He knew, coming into this, that the intimate moments with everyone would be very different to that which he had experienced in the past. Size wise, Grog is closest to Orthax. But the difference is in the way that Grog treats him. Rather than whatever it was that Vex had expected when she’d referred to “fucking like a barbarian”, Grog’s careful and considerate. He can’t quite be gentle—there’s too much of him for that—but Percy finds himself very quickly raising his hips to Grog’s every controlled thrust, his breath turning fast and coming out in small cries.
It makes sense. Grog’s probably got to be this considerate with the more standard-issue whores that he beds. Though there are those who embrace being be hurt for the right price, Percy imagines that Grog doesn’t go in for that.
Grog shifts position, unceremoniously shoving one arm under Percy’s knee and lifting him for a better angle. His skin slaps against Percy’s and Percy cries out again, Grog’s name coming off his tongue in a way he’d never imagined it would except in the deepest most secret parts of his mind.
He can feel their eyes on him, watching, waiting to see if this will be what puts him over the edge. Keyleth’s stopped laughing and is making small whimpering noises; Percy can hear soft wet sounds that suggest very strongly that someone is playing with her.
“Fuck, Percy, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Grog rumbles, and then Percy feels the thick pulse of Grog spending inside him. It’s a strange sensation, because he feels it much more than with Vax. It’s an unfair comparison, as Scanlan said, to contrast people of two very different races. But there it is, and he’s sure that if Vex hadn’t slipped him that potion he’d be spilling his own seed as a consequence.
Grog holds still for a minute, breathing deeply, and then pulls out. The trickle of fluid out of Percy that follows is unpleasant, but Scanlan’s there with another spell to clean up. It may even be that he’s performed this task for Grog before, making his experiences with ladies of the night as comfortable for both parties as possible. Certainly Grog’s consideration speaks to having to be delicate with past human sized-partners.
Percy’s willing to bet none of Exandria’s courtesans have been fucked by a demon, though.