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If there was anything Harold missed about his former life as a prince, it was that he didn't have many responsibilities beyond being a political tool for marrying off. Now that he was the loyal husband to an Orcish Duke, it was expected of him, like all Orcish denizens, that he pull his fair share of work. One does not join an ergonomic society of full rights and comforts without themselves ensuring that it is preserved and provided. As husband of the Duke, his role was more ceremonious than anything. Beyond his companionship, Harold was expected to attend holiday events and provide comfort during times of political strife which were still prone to happen even in such an equality-minded society.

Nevertheless, Harold did what was required of him. Anything short of cracking a man's skull with his fists (something he could easily do with his newly acquired orc body) wasn't out of his repertoire. While he hadn't the experience of being a leader or a laborer, he was more than adept in the realm of academics, something his home kingdom was sorely lacking in. Harold established himself as the head of education within the Duchy, becoming sort of a patron for all things scientific, historical, and mathematical. Prior prejudices held against orcs braced him for a race of folk who would balk at such priorities, and yet he was pleasantly surprised by a legion of men and women ready and willing to enact the many reforms he had in mind.

In the year that followed his marriage to Mordin the Duke, Harold had adjusted to his new culture swimmingly. It had become easy to forget that he was once human, a meek young lad who rarely raised his voice amongst the knuckle-headed curmudgeons who would cleave a skull at a moment's notice. Once scrawny and pale, he'd learned to adapt to the towering, muscular frame wrapped in jade skin. The fabulously blonde hair he once kept in a royal bob was now down to his waist, choked into a ponytail with decorative beads at the bottom. He was almost always bare to the waist, showing off that magnificently bulky torso. Though he could not grow a beard, his previously effeminate features were brutalized by a huge mandible and boar-like tusks that sprouted upwards. It wasn't Harold's archetype for an intellectual, but the orcs had taught him better than anyone not to judge a book by its cover.

But not all of them were as hellacious. Yroh was the city librarian. He was uncharacteristically meek for an orc in both stature and personality. He was short at a little less than seven feet (again, by orc standards) and possessed a shockingly lithe musculature. His shoulders were not broad, nor his gut extended. The spring green skin that covered him was a few shades lighter than average, something Harold expected was the result of so much time spent in the library. He kept his brown hair short; the bangs hovered just above a soft-looking face. If his skin wasn't green and he didn't have tusks, Harold would've thought he was a human. Even Harold, who had once been human, fit the mold of an orc better.

Yroh seemed to think so, as he was always soft-spoken around others. He was not keen to raise his voice under any circumstance or assert himself into conflict. Any suggestion Harold made was always agreed to without protest. He rarely spoke without first being spoken to. Even in a society where everyone's thoughts and opinions were welcomed and listened to, there were those who thought themselves unworthy to share their own. Harold recalled how soft he had been by the standards of his former Kingdom and compared it to Yroh's personality. If Yroh wasn't an orc, Harold's people would've eaten him alive.

But he was not without passion or drive. Mention a subject or book he was interested in, and he wouldn't shut up about it. Once he'd sunk his teeth into something he liked it was impossible to pry him from it. Harold had the misfortune of asking him what his favorite book was. He didn't get an answer as Yroh had an entire pantheon of titles he considered the greatest and most worthy of the honor.

"Which one do I like most?" he'd asked with a zealous fire crackling behind his eyes and following it with a scoff. "Why, it'd be sacrilege to say a single one of them is better than the others. What's your favorite?" An exhausted Harold didn't want to tell him lest he suffer another hour of critiques and opinions.

Tendencies to gush aside, the two got along just fine, and when Mordin asked them to lead renovations to the library they both did so with gusto. Construction began and the two of them had to keep the library going while a company of workers tore half the building apart. They were putting together an expansion that would allow a greater collection of books, but in doing so they halved the amount of space for their current roster. The fact that students from the local schools came in daily did not help. They were up to their necks keeping everything on track, something made even more difficult by the constant barking of hammers and mewling saws.

The day would have all been over once the last class had left. Attendance by other citizens was sparse to none. That left the two librarians to languish in the din of hard work, yelling while just within a few feet of each other. They shared a desk at the front of the library, Harold's having been usurped by the encroaching renovations. A mighty contrast was struck between them as they sat side by side, trying their best to think past all the noise.

It was the fourth day of construction when Harold decided it was time to leave early. He was seated next to Yroh when he lifted his hands and clapped his kilt-draped knees. "Welp! I think it's time to call it quits." The massive wooden chair screeched across the marble floor as he sat up to his full height.

It startled Yroh. "You're leaving? Now?"

Harold cocked an eyebrow at him. "I am. Why? Is there any work left for us? Is any other class scheduled for today?"

"Well, not that I know of. Wait..." Yroh grabbed a nearby planner and flipped to the current date. Harold rolled his eyes; it had been a rhetorical question. Yroh made it to the right page and read it carefully. "No, there isn't, but someone else might come in."

"There hasn't been many coming at all, not including the younglings. Nobody wants to sit down and study with all this nonsense going on," he said with a vague gesture towards the nearby scaffolding. "If anyone does show up, they won't stay around for very long. Perhaps they'll pick up a book or two and then skedaddle."

"Well, that's true, but the library does not close until later this evening. I don't want the library to be off limits to anyone who needs it."

"Well, you're more than welcome to stay. It's nothing you can't handle, is it?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. I think you can leave at any time, and it won't be of consequence to anybody. The workers know their way out of here. Any orc who wants a book can get it tomorrow or any other date. So, are you leaving?"

He thought for a moment before shaking his head, whipping the brown bangs around his head. "I'll stay here."

Harold wasn't about to argue with him. "Suit yourself." The Duchess (as was Harold's title by marriage to Mordin, something he struggled to accept when it was given to him) left the desk and waved at the workers to show that he was leaving. They waved back and watched as Harold exited through the lobby. He stepped into the midday sun, embracing the autumn chill across his bare pecs. All that protected him from the elements was a heavy wool sash and the kilt around his huge legs. Feeling the breeze stiffen his nipples without fear of reprimand for his partial nudity was a luxury he did not have back in Amuria. Walking through the streets were his countrymen, each one as covered as he with nothing more concealing than a tunic or kilt around their bombastic bodies. Seeing him walk out of the library were a gaggle of orcs naked to the waist, men and women, the latter exposing the full barbarity of their bosoms. They smiled and waved at him like nothing was amiss, and that's because nothing was. He smiled jovially and waved back at them.

The walk to the palace was a relatively long one, spanning most of the city. He remembered the days when journeys outside of his father's castle necessitated protection within a carriage and the escort of guards; too many disgruntled pretenders would've liked to sink their daggers into the prince's back. Harold had no such protection in Orminia, nor did he need any. He could wander the open streets without the fear of so much a heckle or insult. The most he had to worry about was an overly eager slap in the back, something the orcs considered a proper way to greet someone. Sometimes he would be stopped to answer someone's question and offer advice. A few folks liked to shove gifts of food into his arms which he was forced to eat right then and there lest he have his arms full by the time he got to the palace. All of this was from people he didn't know personally but looked upon him with trust and respect. It required a full year of adjusting, and he hadn't quite gotten used to such hospitality after a lifetime of paranoia, but he'd come to enjoy a walk through the city a thousand times more than a single carriage ride through the place where he'd been raised.

That day's trip brought the usual greets and treats. Some faces were familiar, others not. He recited as many names as he could, apologizing for those he couldn't. The outline of the palace peeled into view, and he sighed with relief. It feels wonderful to end a day early. He was greeted at the front gate by a pair of guards who opened it for him. Past the ornamental fountain and up the front steps led him inside. Normally his husband was there in the foyer to ask him how his day had been. Since he'd come early, the foyer was empty. Harold scratched his temple with a claw. What would he be doing right about now? Is he even here? Damn. Maybe I should keep better track of his schedule like he does mine. I'm a terrible husband.

The office made the most sense, so Harold headed there. He found it empty, to his dismay. The thought that perhaps Mordin simply wasn't in the palace crossed his mind when he passed one of Mordin's secretaries in the hall. Her name was Gurch, and she was marching down the hall towards the office, poring over a piece of parchment, when she passed Harold without even noticing him.

"Gurch," he said, getting her attention.

She jolted hard, nearly dropping her papers. "Oh! Harold. I didn't see you."

How is that even possible? "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's alright. Do you need something?"

"Yes. I was wondering if you knew where Mordin was."

"Oh, he said he was taking a break from his work. I think he retired to his chambers. At least that's where I saw him going."

Harold bowed his head. "Thank you. Keep up the good work."

"Of course." Then she went right back to scowling at her paper and scooted along into the office.

Harold went in the opposite direction towards the bedroom. Harold knew admittedly little about Mordin's work habits beyond how much of the day he spent leading and making decisions. However peaceful and harmonious the Duchy might have been, there were still political squabbles and complaints abound. It was Mordin's duty to ensure they were handled peacefully. Harold admired his deft leadership; his father would've ended such issues with an expert chop of an executioner's axe or the torching of a village. The fact that nobody ever died during such disputes- let alone that the death sentence had been outlawed -amazed Harold. He wondered what he would do if Mordin was taking a nap or reading a book. I should enter the room carefully, Harold thought as he came to the chamber doors. They were closed, unusual given the palace's open-door policy. He grabbed the massive brass handle and opened the door slowly, hopeful not to make too much noise.

There was no need. Mordin was wide awake, nude in bed, sucking his own dick.

Harold peeked around the door to see his husband doing just that. He was seated at the head of the bed, leaning back against the pillows with his legs spread, that colossus of a pecker towering out of his lap and into his open mouth. Harold saw just the top of his head as he bent over at the back with his lips locked around his cock head. His balls sat between his thighs in their wrinkled, emerald purse like two volleyballs. Threads of spittle snaked down the vascular façade of his column, down into the wiry shrub of black pubes that burst from his cock root.

He nearly bit himself when the sound of the door opening sent a shock through him. "Ulk!" He jerked his head up, breaking the seal between his mouth and his pecker with a loud mwop! Spit whipped off his O-shaped mouth before he wiped it clean with the back of his wrist. His pole timbered forward and wobbled before coming still. Mordin was especially massive, even for an orc, making it all the more adorable when he gave Harold a look of absolute shock.

"Harold!" Mordin said before having to cough into his fist several times. "Koff-koff! Ahh! What are you- koff! Doing here so early?"

Harold stayed half-leaning out of the door frame, staring blankly at his husband's nudity. "I left because nobody was showing up. Nobody shows up besides the students with all the renovations going on."

Mordin hammered his chest to clear his throat finally. "Mm-Mmm! Ah... I see. Is Yroh still there?"

"He is." Harold stepped the rest of the way into the chambers and closed the door behind him. "I said we could close the place, but he insisted that he stay." He put his hands on his hips. "And what might you be up to?"

The Duke grinned guiltily. "Ah, attending to personal matters. You normally aren't here until the evening."

"So, you're impatient, eh?"

He scratched his temple. "Ah, maybe. It's a terribly long wait without your touch, you know."

"Oh, is that it? And how many times have you done this while I've been gone?"

Mordin was silent. "How many times will make you upset?"

"Oh, I won't be upset." Harold began strolling his way to the bed. "I just need to know how much I'll need to make up for lost time~"

Mordin's pensive guilt turned into pleasant surprise. "Oh, well in that case, I fear I've done this too many times to count." He held his cock by the upper part, just below the flare of his cock helmet. His hand slid down the thin film of spit he'd coated himself in, spreading it to the hilt and creating a shiny glisten. He peered around his massive pillar and smirked at his Duchess. "You have a lot to make up for."

Harold smirked back. "Let's see if I can make do." He mounted the bed by the foot and knelt on the comforter. He undid his sash and laid bare the rest of his explosive torso. Next, his kilt was untied and peeled apart. Unveiled was his own magnificent manhood, currently hung limp between his thighs, but with a little less immensity his husband possessed. The front third of it sat bent on the sheet between his knees, head tilted to his right. Orbs like siege ammunition sat hunkered in his purse, the bottom of which sagged not too far above the mattress beneath him. All of it came towards Mordin as Harold stalked across the bed on his fours, eying the erect behemoth before him.

Mordin did him the kindness of angling his cock at Harold so that he could make love to it properly. The nudecovered Harold took advantage by kneeling before it like it were his altar, laying a gentle hand on the flank of it, just beneath the glans. Mordin let go and laid back on the pillows, eager to watch his husband go to work. Harold did so by stroking. Both hands were required to touch fingers around his monstrous girth. Like everything else about him, Mordin's cock was enormous even by orc standards. Harold could appreciate as much now that he glided his palms up and down from hilt to head, feeling the heat and ardent pulse of Mordin's heart.

Harold purred. "Mmmmm, you have been missing my touch, haven't you?"

Mordin winced. "Direly."

"But we made love last night, didn't we?"

"Yes, like we do every night."

"So why so pent up?"

"As I said, waiting for your touch is torture. I can hold myself off with my own mouth, but only for a while. You can't expect a starving man to regain his strength on a morsel alone."

"No, I don't suppose I can. I've had my own hunger pangs, you know."

"Oh?"

"Aye." One hand slid down to Mordin's nuts and cradled one. Harold brought his face forward and kissed the underside of the cock head, right where a great notch of sensitive nerves lay behind a thick sheet of foreskin. "And I intend on sating myself." He planted just a couple more smooches before straightening his back, leaning his head over Mordin's summit, and dipping his tongue into the precum-oozing cock slit.

A satisfied groan rumbled forth. "Ohh, now that's what I've been yearning for." He reached out with a giant, beefy arm and massaged Harold's scalp, rustling his pretty blonde hair. "Have I ever told you how handsome you are with your mouth on my cock?"

Harold's eye rolled up at him. The tip of tongue was buried in Mordin's dick hole, drilling for more of that metallic sex juice. He retracted it to speak. Spit and precum wreathed his mouth already. "Once or twice. Perhaps more often than when I'm not gobbing on you. Am I not so attractive when I'm not?" Harold wrapped his lips around Mordin's cock head, stretching his jaw and lips the farthest they could go. His gaze remained locked with his husband.

The Duke winced. "Nnn, you're still handsome no matter how far away you are from my cock. I just much rather prefer you sucking on it than not."

Harold came back up with a wet mwah. "So you don't have to hear me talk, is that it?"

Mordin chuckled. "Sometimes, yes."

Harold smiled at him wryly. "I see. Let's hope I don't happen to close my jaw while I'm blowing you," he said before resuming his fellatio. He made sure to open his jaw wide so that Mordin saw the intimidating array of teeth and tusks that lined his jaws.

Mordin's next chuckle was choked off by a gasp of pleasure. "Hah-Ahh... Yes... Please be careful... Mmm..."

Harold didn't say anything this time. He kept his maw in place and bobbed it down the upper part of that huge pole. He had no hope of going very far down, at least not in this position. His jaw was stretched open as far as it was. The flare of Mordin's glans bulged across his cheeks when he went down. It would plug his throat with a wet gulk before he would swing his head up and then back down again. His hands were not left idle. One shuttled across Mordin's shaft while its twin caressed those gargantuan man eggs just below. He would lift one and roll it in his hand, tickling himself on the many fine wrinkles which textured the leathery, emerald skin. That ball would slump from his grasp and be replaced by the other. His thumb sank into the pillowy flesh just between and rolled in a tight circle.

Mordin's jaw was slack, letting loose some sincere groans. His eyelids hung heavily. A throb of his cock muscle made it swell in Harold's mouth. Precum bled out in a massive, milky tear and was immediately absorbed into Harold's gullet. His eyes were half closed with that sultry stare still locked on his husband.

"Ahhh, you're killing me..." Mordin huffed. Liquid bliss poured into his loins from the roaring waterfall of delight where Harold plugged his mouth and throat. His balls ached in Harold's grasp, feeling like they would fall through the skin of his scrotum under their own weight. His head lurched back and bounced off the top of one pillow. He closed his eyes and let out a long, wholesome grunt at the ceiling. "Yes... Ahhhh... This is what I needed. Mmm... I think I'm close. Hahhh... Keep going. Faster."

Had not Harold's mouth been stretched around a fat cock, he would've smirked. Say no more. His tempo escalated as requested, bringing with it the volume of wet smacks and squelches. He impaled his throat repeatedly. "Ulk! Ulk! Ulk! Ulk! Ulk!" Both his hands turned into a blur across Mordin's cock. They made sure the spit Harold had left on the portion covered by his mouth was stretched across the rest, electrifying the Duke something terrible.

"Ahhhhhhhhhh..." His face was contorting now that the peak of his ecstasy was so close. He brought his head back up to watch and saw Harold's visage jabbing itself on his pecker. Those pretty blue eyes were still locked on him, silently begging him to cum. It wasn't very long of a wait from there. "Hyuuuuhhhhhhhhhh~!" Mordin's entire body lurched back against the pillows as his spine bent sharply, heaving his gut upwards. His cock muscle clenched and throbbed heroically, launching the first spit of cum directly into Harold's mouth.

It struck the back of his throat like a cannon shot but did not dislodge him. He winced and came to a stop but did not cease or slow his hand work. Once that first rope was swallowed, he pried his mouth free. Mwop! Threads of spit bridged his lips and Mordin's phallus before breaking and then sagging down his chin. His jerking was hard and fast, rolling that massive foreskin back and forth.

More cum erupted to the beat of Mordin's contractions. Pthhp! Pthhp! Pthhp! Ivory rockets would soar into the air and come raining down, hitting Mordin's rock-hard gut and the surrounding mattress with rude plops. Harold hovered his face just outside the geyser, lolling his tongue out so that it would catch some pearls. He was the recipient of a few of them as they splattered down on his face, neck, and back.

Mordin maintained a heavy groan as his orgasm continued. Veins crunched to the surface of his dick skin, weaving through the shaft like wandering cracks in a sheet of ice. The skin deepened in color, earning an added shade with each pump of cum. Sqrrrssshhh. Sqrrrssshhh. Sqrrrssshhh. The cock tip inched upwards, going past Harold's face and surpassing it in raw girth. His testicles behaved similarly, bloating in their purse and stretching further towards his knees until they consumed every bit of available space.

The last bit of cum spit out, and Mordin's groaning tapered off along with his ecstasy. He sat in the afterglow panting hard. Cum was dribbled and smacked across his muscle gut and in several places across the sheets. "Lord... Hahhh... That was wonderful."

Harold peeked around his cock and smiled at him. Streaks of white oil sagged across his face and down his chin. "Better than doing it to yourself, I hope."

"Ah, by leagues." He grabbed his own cock and rubbed it. It was going soft, but he knew it wasn't finished. Once Harold got him going, it was hard to stop. "Damn. Going to be hard getting back to work at this size."

Harold knelt upright. He wiped some of Harold's cum off with his finger and dipped it into his mouth to suckle it clean. It came out with a pop! "Ah... Do you have to go back to work? Can't you take the rest of the day off like I have?"

"I'm the Duke. I can never take a day off so spontaneously. My people need me."

"Aye, I'm sure they do." He politely pulled Mordin's hand away from his cock and stroked it himself, making it lurch up and down lazily. "But your husband needs you too, you know."

Mordin cocked an eyebrow. "You're asking me to put the needs of my Duchess before the people?"

"No, not quite." Harold hoisted Mordin's penis up and gave it a smooch. "Perhaps I'm just asking you to attend to what's most convenient for the both of us." He kissed it two more times before speaking in a hushed, seductive tone. "Doesn't that sound reasonable?"

Duty implored Mordin to reject him and say they would resume later that day, but Harold's sweet kisses were far more persuasive. "I suppose it does," said Mordin.

Harold flashed his teeth in a victorious smile. "I'm glad you think so."

"If you're so eager to continue, do me the favor of getting on your fours."

"Yes sir~" Harold timbered backwards away from him. He hit the mattress, rolled onto his stomach and got up on his hands and knees. That portly green moon stared back at Mordin. His manhood, now totally erect, sat at an angle against the comforter below. Harold reached back and grabbed one cheek to pull it aside, showing off that dark, puckered donut. "This to your liking? Or would you rather be doing paperwork?" he said right before letting go of his haunch. It swung back into place, smacking its twin and creating a great jiggle of blubber and glute.

Mordin scoffed. "I already said that I would fuck you. No need to rub it in." He rose to his knees behind Harold with his cock waving in front of him as it started getting hard again. He picked it up and let it smack down on Harold's crack, making him gasp and shudder.

Harold cooed and backed his ass up, letting that slab of moist, burning meat glide up his crack and crest over his lower back. He felt a drop of leftover cum drop onto the very hilt of his spine, generating another wave of chills. "Mmmm, where's the fun in that?"

"It's not wise to tease your Duke, you know," Mordin said. His hand reeled back, palm open, and delivered a quick swat across Harold's butt. SMACK!

Harold jolted and gasped. "Ah! Haha! Mmmmm... Maybe not to such a tyrant like yourself."

"A tyrant? Bah! In what way am I tyrannical?"

Harold resumed his sensual grind down Mordin's length. His hips and ass rolled in a fluid orbit. The turgid flesh hardened between his haunches with each pulse. "Well, with a cock like that it's only natural you'd wield it so ruthlessly. Give a man a hammer and he will think everything is a nail."

"Oh, is that it? Well, there's another saying that goes along with that." His cock was like stone again, balanced along Harold's ass and lower back like a cannon on its mount. "The ultimate judge of a man is what he does with power, and as for mine..." He unleashed another smack on Harold's ass. "I intend on using every bit of it on you."

Harold was biting his lip. His buttock stung from the spanking and was showing the first signs of a hand-shaped welt. "Nnnnnnn... Go ahead then, Your Majesty~"

Mordin grabbed his cock with one hand and held onto Harold's hip with the other. It torpedoed into Harold's tailhole, blotting it from existence until Mordin forced it to distend. Harold gasped and pushed himself back reflexively. Mordin paused his thrust just to watch Harold absorb more of his pole.

"That's it," grumbled the Duke. "Back up on that dick."

"Uhhhhh..." Harold obeyed his crude demand, sliding his slightly parted buttocks further down so that a fat mound would distend from his lower abdomen and into the belly. He experienced the grind on his boy buzzer as a sudden onset of quakes in his thighs and calves. Precum welled from his cock without pause, surging whenever Harold would clench his battered floor muscle. Finally, he could feel the scratch of Mordin's pubes on the pinnacle of his ass crack once his buttocks were flattened on the hips. His husband impaled him to the chest, that stony column of meat throbbing within a wonderfully tight flesh coffin.

Harold reacted appropriately. "Uhh! Ahh! Ohh..."

A long exhale blew through Mordin's nose as he began massaging Harold's buttocks. "Now that's the touch I've been longing for. Have you been eager for mine just as much?" His beefy hands whispered up Harold's back, admiring the way his chiseled muscles trembled so meekly.

"Ohhhhhh, yes I did... Huhhhh... I should've been leaving the library early a long time ago... Ohhh..."

"Now, now. I know my cock is good, but it's nothing to abandon your duties for." Mordin's hand crept up the back of Harold's neck. It found his ponytail and grabbed hold, pulling Harold's head back and causing him to arch his back and gasp effeminately. "But now that you're here, I think we oughtta make good on it, shouldn't we?"

Harold's jaw was slack, letting out a barrage of desperate moans. The bend in his spine electrified him, turning him into putty in his husband's unforgiving grasp. "Yes! Yes! Oh, Mordin... Huhhh... Fuck me, please... Ohhh..."

The Duke smirked. "Of course, my dear." Mordin set one hand on his lumbar and withdrew his hips. His cock came out from Harold's silo glistening and vascular, hugged on both flanks by quivering, jade glutes. The very instant it was as far back as he could go it was returned with a heavy shove. The resulting tidal wave of flesh droned throughout Harold's thighs, back, and buttocks. The energy jolted up his spine, threatening to throw it out. A choked squeak hiccuped out of his maw, kept reserved only by the Draconian grip his husband had on his hair.

"Uhhh! Huhhh! Yes! Uckh-!" His shouts were cut off by another heavy thrust, the progenitor of a heavy pounding from behind that burst his glowing delight into a crippling firestorm. The strength in his arms ebbed away, bending the elbows and lowering his chest to the mattress. He was held aloft by his hair going taut. With each impact a stifled grunt or groan would blow escape. "Uck! Uhh! Huh! Uck! Uhk! Uhh! Uck!"

Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap! Bap!

And Mordin wasn't even fucking him that hard. He was in the same position when he'd started, hand on his lower back, the other holding Harold's hair like the stems of a carrot. This was just casual fucking. The both of them knew what he was capable of and would soon provide. "How's that, darling?" Mordin said without so much as grunting. "Better than wasting in the library, eh?"

"Yeeee-eeee-eeee-eeee-eees! Huhhhh-uhhh-uhhh-uhhh-!"

Mordin wasn't entirely sure if that was an answer to his question, but he accepted it as one. "Mmmm, yes. And this beats the hell out of paperwork. I hope- Mmf... I hope Gurch doesn't mind filling in for me while I- Huhhh... Fill you up~"

Harold was able to laugh. "Ahhhhhhahahaha... Uhhhhhh... I think... She already knows... Ohhhh..."

Mordin split a wide grin. "And if she doesn't, she will right now~" He let go of Harold's hair. While Harold slumped the rest of the way down onto the mattress, he grabbed hold of his hips. The tips of his fingers sank into the skin tightly enough to bring the tendons in his forearms to the surface. Without missing a beat, he pulled back again, then shoved home a devastating plunge into his husband's guts.

PLAP!

Both Harold's hands clenched into fists around the sheets. His jaw shot open wide in a silent gasp, followed closely by a shuddering moan. "Huhhhhhhhhhhhh~!" He was jerked forward by Mordin's thrust, one that dragged the side of his face across the sheet. Spit darkened it around where his mouth was shaped into a broad, erotic O. The screams belting out of him were both powered and strangled by Mordin slamming back into him repeatedly and with full force.

PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP! PLAP!

Accompanying those meaty smacks were Harold's squeals and Mordin's grunts. His balls swung between his legs like two wrecking balls, smashing into the back of Harold's and then back again to repeat. Saliva from the blowjob earlier had congealed around Harold's crevice and down his purse. It splotched across his backside, flattened there by Mordin's rapid assault. The Duke felt his pleasure increase, and his stoicism crumbled into a ferocious snarl.

"Ahhhhhh, fuck! That's it. Scream for me!" he growled.

Harold was already obeying to the letter. More than screaming, he would say his lover's name and beg for more. That fire in his backside, now a muscle-spasming conflagration, was close to its peak, forced there by Mordin's expert fucking. Through the loss of coherence in his speech Harold could announce his impending climax.

"Oh FUCK! Mordin! Huhhhhhhh! I'm cumming! Yes! YES! HUHHHHHH!!!"

That's all Mordin needed to hear to put him on track for his own orgasm. His visage scrunched and his grip on Harold tightened. "Ahhhh... That's it... Cum for me!" He punctuated his order with an even greater effort behind his thrusts.

It was rewarded kindly. Harold lost the orcish depth to his voice upon the impact of a terrific climax. His voice was sent into a girlish squeal reminiscent of his days as a scrawny human. Less dainty was the sudden burst of cum that ripped out of his penis and onto the sheets, staining it and his chest. Mordin was not done fucking him, making each spurt come without the clench of his cock muscle. A pool of thick ivory was stretched across his stomach, chest, and the sheet. His ejaculation stopped, but not the nuclear fallout of raw euphoria Mordin maintained with his thrusts.

Alas, the Duke was at his own limit, forced there by Harold's joyous song. He was good for a quintet of thrusts before his coordination broke under the weight of his pleasure. The last three he delivered came slowly, but with full force and length. It ended on a heave that planted himself to Harold's ass. His head and body arched backwards. His jaw was clenched powerfully.

"HRRRRNNNNGGGGHHHHHHAAAAAAAAaaaaaahhhhhhhh~~~!!!"

Harold felt the reception of such a flood more keenly than Mordin felt giving it. The first rope hit him in the guts like a genuine thrust. Molten warmth swept through his insides for as long as Mordin's cock muscle kept throbbing. It bloated into an even greater mass, drawing deeper into Harold and sagging his balls to the bed. Though Harold's orgasm had tapered off, having his insides filled was an ecstasy of its own. A dumb smile crept across his face beneath his fluttering eyes.

Mordin let out a doleful sigh once he had finished. "Goodness... Hahhh..." He carefully stepped back on his knees, drawing his dick out of Harold's ass. He had to go half across the bed just to get it all the way out. It sagged downwards, now a barbaric shade of green with veins stretched through like a highway map. Harold's tailhole was stretched into a massive porthole, left to drool its contents down his balls in a pearlescent waterfall. His pucker fell shut slowly, but not before a massive pool of Mordin's nut had accumulated beneath him.

The Duchess cooed and fell onto his side. His junk had grown too, but not like the emerald monolith he saw drooping out of his husband like a bridge. It was glazed to the root in cum. The scrotum sat between his open thighs like an overloaded sack of potatoes. He was trying to catch his breath when he saw Harold smiling at him.

The Duke smiled back. "I doubt Yroh is having a good time as ours at the library," he huffed.

Harold chuckled. "I totally forgot about him. No, I don't think he is. This was wonderful, as always."

Mordin rubbed his colossus. The flesh was sensitive enough to make him wince. "Ah... There was something I meant to tell you about the library. I was going to tell you when you got home, but you caught me doing something else."

"Aye, I remember." Harold fought through the dopamine-weakness in his legs and sat upright. He came over and urged Mordin to lie down so the two could cuddle. Harold latched to his side, one arm over Mordin's chest, his swollen phallus jutting into Mordin's leg. "What about the library? Is everything alright?"

"Aye! Everything is wonderful. It's good news." He brought one arm around and laid it beneath Harold's head. "I got a letter from my sister today."

Harold's eyes lit up. "Sapheer?"

Mordin nodded. "Aye. She received word that we were improving our library. The one in her Duchy is much better, a much larger collection. She's offered to give us a portion of her books so long as we come over to get them ourselves. You know she's desperate to finally meet you."

"Oh, that sounds wonderful! We should absolutely go! How many did she say she had?"

"She didn't give an exact number, just that we could come over and take as many as we could handle. They must have a mighty large surplus if they can let us do that."

Harold thought as much. It wasn't like a library to just give out its books, even if they had multiple copies. Such an act of generosity had to be thanked profusely and in person, as Harold would have the chance to do now that he would finally meet Sapheer. "I imagine they do. When will we go?"

"Well, first I have to let her know that we accept and that we're coming. I'll have to prepare my court to work in my stead while I'm gone, and we'll have to alert the schools that the library is closed for the week."

Harold frowned. "Close the library? Why? Yroh can run it himself, I think."

"Well, don't you think he should come with us? He is the librarian, after all."

"Yes, he is. But..." Harold grew reticent.

"What's the matter? Is there something amiss between you two?"

"No, not at all. It's just..." I'm going to sound like such a pest. "He's not the kind of orc I would expect to make a long travel like that."

Mordin looked confused. "How?"

Harold sighed. "He's dreadfully awkward and shy. I'm not sure he'll do much to help us pick out any books."

That clearly didn't sit well with Mordin. "Well, that's no reason to leave him here to rot alone like he has before I had you appointed. If that's the case, we ought to bring him along with us. It will help him be more open and less awkward. You should know better."

Harold cringed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. Perhaps you two will know each other better after this trip."

"I already know him well enough. Mention something he's interested in, and he'll chew your ear off."

"Is that right? Well then perhaps I'll learn something. Next time you see him, tell him about my sister and her library. Invite him, and don't take 'no' for an answer."

Harold acquiesced. "Yes sir."

"Good." Mordin kissed him on the temple. "I love you."

Harold smiled. "I love you too."

Click!

The opening of the chamber door startled both men. They looked up to see Gurch peeking around the open door, smiling at them like nothing was amiss. "Hey there!" she chirped. "Just wanted to ask the Duke if he could come sign something whenever the two of you were finished. That is, if you two are even going to finish."

A dreadfully heavy silence hung over the bedroom. Harold clung to Mordin more closely. Mordin coughed into his fist. "As a matter of fact, yes. The two of us were just finishing up."

"Perfect." Durch held up her paper and waved it. "I'll be waiting in your office with this. Come over and we'll go over it." Before she slid behind the door and closed it, she looked at Harold and shot him a wink.

Harold remembered to breathe, and an exasperated exhale blew out of him. "Don't you orcs know anything about privacy?"

Mordin chuckled and shook his head. "Some better than others," he said. "Some better than others."

***

Yroh was more receptive to the idea of traveling than Harold anticipated. "Oh! That sounds wonderful!" the normally bashful orc said with a clap of his hands. "It's been a dreadfully long time since I've even left the city. I've never even stepped foot out of the Duchy. And I get to meet the Duke's sister? And I get to take some of her collection? It's too good to be true!"

Harold relayed the reaction to Mordin who was more than pleased. "See? He's cracking his shell already."

Mordin wrote his sister that they would be coming in a fortnight. Everything was put in place to run in their absence. Yroh was fraught with giddy nerves. To spend an extended time with the Duke outside of his territory was incredibly daunting, at least to him. He pestered Harold with questions regarding etiquette around Mordin: how to address him, what might offend him, etc., etc.

"He's not going to bite your head off," Harold told him once. "You've met him, haven't you?"

"Once," Yroh said. "When he visited the library. I didn't say much to him."

You never say much of anything to anybody, Harold came close to saying out loud. "Well, just treat him like you would any other person. That's all he expects from you. You'll be far less anxious once you get to know him like I have. I would know, I was married to him while I was just a human, when my idea of orcs was far less than kind."

Yroh did not seem as convinced. "Yes, that makes sense."

The day to depart came. A caravan of three carriages was put together, one to carry the three orcs, one to carry supplies for the journey, and an empty one to bring back the books. They set off, reintroducing Harold to the untouched beauty of the Orcish countryside. He recalled his first journey through it, how he marveled at it from the moment he fell into its embrace. However beautiful it all was, it filled him with a deep remorse for his original kin. How were they faring? Was his family safe? Had the insurrections softened, or were they flaring up with their usual tenacity? His only information came from reports in the news. His family did not bother to write him letters, even though he sent them a great deal during the early days of being a Duchess. He addressed them to his father, telling him how he was doing and how different the Orcish were. In one letter he knew might be shocking he described his transformation. If his father ever got them, he never responded, and Harold eventually gave up on writing them. He hoped that one day he could perhaps visit his family and that they may accept his new orc form. But that was wishful thinking. They had cast him off into a marriage without his consent. Regardless of how happy that had made him in the end, it meant that his family wanted nothing to do with them.

Mordin saw how crestfallen he was as he gazed through the window silently throughout their journey. With Yroh being as reticent as he always was, the cabin was dreadfully quiet, filled only by the rattle of the road and the clops of a half-dozen horses pulling them along. Mordin sat with his back to the driver, his massive body requiring that entire side of the carriage. Yroh and Harold sat beside each other, facing out the windows on opposite sides, hardly cognizant of anything immediately around them. The verbose Mordin could not handle the silence, so he broke it with a question.

"So, how are the renovations going?" It was a question he'd asked Harold dozens of times, but now he directed it at Yroh.

It startled the two orcs who looked at them from their windows. Yroh's heart leapt when he saw the Duke was addressing him directly. He gulped. "Ah... Fine, sir. Has Harold told you anything about it?"

"He has," Mordin said. "Now I'd like to hear it from you. You're our librarian. You should know most about it." He meant to simply engage the young man, but accidentally made Yroh think he was interrogating him.

Yroh straightened himself in his seat and cleared his throat. "Well, all is going on schedule. Or at least the workers tell me. I don't know what they're doing. I mean... I don't know how they're doing it, the work, I mean. I only know what they tell me."

Harold was cringing beside him, rubbing his jaw. Mordin acted more calmly. "That's good to hear! I don't know much about construction myself. I'm a governor, not a carpenter. All I can hope is that the foreman on the job is as competent as you two."

A hint of a bashful smile snuck onto Yroh's face. "Thank you, sir."

"Why don't you tell me what it's like to be a librarian? It looks like a sleepy job, but I'm certain there's more to it than just handing out and collecting books."

"Well, there is, but I'm not sure where to begin." Yroh looked up and scratched his chin with one finger thoughtfully. "It's not complicated, but it's not simple either."

"Take your time," said Mordin. "I'd like to hear it."

Just as Yroh formed a more complete smile, Harold felt a brick of dread slam into his gut. Oh Lord. Here we go. He looked out the window and out into the countryside right before Yroh went into a rambling lecture on the intricacies of running a library. It wasn't very long into it when Mordin realized he'd made a terrible mistake. It went on and on, jumping from one topic to another, sometimes with very little segue. What should've been a twenty-minute explanation dragged into an hour-long explanation that had even the supremely patient Mordin nodding off. In the middle of it Harold gave him a knowing smirk that said I warned you. Mordin ignored him, a luxury he could not afford with the sudden chatterbox that held him captive.

The lesson did not end until near nightfall when the caravan stopped for the night at an inn. The innkeeper was delighted to have the Duke spending the night at his establishment and made sure every luxury available was spent on them. Mordin repeatedly assured him that it wasn't necessary, but was treated lavishly regardless. Four rooms were allotted for them: One for Mordin and Harold, one for two of their drivers, another for the third driver, and the last for Yroh who requested that he have a room to himself. Nobody argued against that, and the journeyers settled down for the night.

Harold and Mordin were spooning together in bed, Mordin at Harold's back. Mordin's eyes were closed, but Harold remained wide awake. Something was nagging at him like it had since they'd first arrived at the inn, bothersome enough to make him speak up.

"Mordin?"

The Duke grumbled. "Yes?"

"Why do you think Yroh insisted on having a room to himself?"

"Well, I assumed it was because he was so shy. Do you think there's any other reason?"

"I think so, yes."

"What is it?"

"Well..." He was quiet for a moment. "Have you paid any attention to his kilt?"

"His kilt?"

"Aye."

"No, I haven't. Have you?"

"Sometimes, yes."

"Well, what about it?"

Harold was quiet. "I think he's keeping something secret inside of it."

Harold could feel Mordin frowning. "Like what? His cock?"

"Aye. I've seen the shape of it when it bumps into the kilt, like any other orc's."

Mordin scoffed. "You're still not blind to that? Your humanity rings loudly still."

"And I don't think it will stop."

"What business is it of yours what's beneath his kilt?"

"None, nor has he made it my business, don't worry. It's just something that's been on my mind ever since I first saw it and has grown more pronounced after he begged for a room of his own. I suppose I'm just curious."

"Well, do you think he'll ever show you?"

"No."

"Then don't worry about it. Go to sleep. Our journey resumes in the morning."

Harold sighed. "You're right." Then he closed his eyes. Sleep found him eventually, but not before the mystery of Yroh's bulge settled on his mind again.

* * *

The previous day's conversation (if it can be called that) on being a librarian turned the volume up in the carriage. Yroh was more talkative than usual, although now the other two men made sure to get a word in. Harold could distract himself from the absence of his family with much more pleasant subjects. Laughter was more prevalent than ever. It was refreshing to see the bashful Yroh open up, at least in a manner that didn't mean chewing other people's ears off. Still, Harold could not keep his eyes from wandering into Yroh's lap on occasion. His attempts to better gauge the shape of Yroh's manhood yielded no results. He would have to remind himself of what Mordin had told him: it was none of his business.

They spent two more nights in inns before the city where Sapheer lived breached the horizon. They had crossed the border into her Duchy just the day prior. There was nothing marking the border, not so much a toll or a sign. Harold didn't know they had passed until Mordin casually mentioned that they had. Just another feat of peaceful living within the orcish kingdom. The caravan was met with a similar welcome Harold had received when he first met Mordin. Orcs hounded the carriage the moment they spotted it up until they pulled up in front of the palace. Food and gifts were dropped inside until the floor couldn't be seen. Harold chuckled to himself as he recalled his confusion and panic when he was first greeted in such a manner. Yroh was more than familiar with such practices. Indeed, he had been one of the folk who put food in Harold's carriage when he first arrived. But to be on the receiving end of it was almost more than he could take.

The caravan wheeled into the front lawn of Sapheer's palace. It was remarkably similar in architecture and size to Mordin's, perhaps a sign of solidarity within the kingdom (that or the orcs weren't very creative when it came to architecture). Harold looked out the window to see the welcoming committee. The orc he was more than certain to be Sapheer stood in the front of them. It didn't take a genius to know she was related to Mordin. Like her brother, she was absolutely leviathan, standing taller than most of the men who joined her. Her hair was in a tremendously thick braid of pitch black that fell to her waistline. Her skin was a deep shade of dark emerald like Mordin's. Though she was not as muscular as him, she was just as broad in both her shoulders and hips.

Of course it was her gargantuan tits that captured Harold's attention the most. They each hung off her chest with breadths on par with the wheels of their carriage. With only a kilt around her waist there was nothing to support them. They covered the entirety of her midriff. Black-green nipples bigger than Harold's head sat at their centers. The nubs at their centers were like tangerines, broader than the areolas Harold would expect to see on a human woman. Orc women rarely tried to cover their breasts, but Sapheer had absolutely no chance of doing so even if she wanted.

Mordin didn't wait for the carriage driver to open the door. He stormed out and all but marched towards his sister, looking like he was ready to fight her. For a terrifying second Harold thought they were when they grabbed the back of each other's heads and slammed them together forehead to forehead. The impact rang across the courtyard like a gunshot.

WHOCK!

Harold and Yroh were both startled until they heard the claps and cheers of everyone else. I should've known their greeting was so violent, Harold thought to himself as he climbed out of the carriage. Sapheer looked around Mordin and spotted him coming over. Her face lit up like a thousand fireworks. "Harold!" she barked. His heart plummeted as she came stampeding over, those titanic breasts jiggling calamitously.

He held his arms out reluctantly, praying that he wouldn't have his skull cracked open on hers. Fortunately, her arms flew open to embrace him, albeit with enough force to squeeze the air out of his lungs and pop several of his vertebrae. His eyes bugged out of their sockets as he tried hugging her back. He was forcibly sunk into the great cushion of her bosom, forbidden from inhaling.

"It's about time I finally met you!" she huffed in a deep, throaty voice. "Why haven't you come to visit me until now, huh?"

Harold wished he could answer, but could not currently fill his lungs with air. "Sorry! I-! Huhhh!"

He heard Mordin laughing from what sounded like very far away. "Let the poor lad live! If it's anyone's fault for not bringing him to you, it's mine."

Sapheer let Harold go. He stumbled away from her, wheezing heavily. "I guess it is!" she said to her brother. "We'll take care of that later." Turning her attention back to the half-suffocated Harold she grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Pleasure to meet you, at last. This is how you humans greet one another, right?"

Harold stood upright once his breath was back. "Ahhh... Yes. Some of us do. I'm not a human anymore, though."

She let go. "I know. Just thought I'd make it more welcome. If you're an orc now you oughtta learn how to greet and be greeted like one!"

Harold thought he'd cracked a rib. "Aye, I probably should."

Yroh was just coming out of the carriage when she noticed him. "Oh? And who might this be?"

Yroh stood at attention. "Ah, my name is Yroh, ma'am. I'm the librarian coming to select some books you promised to give us."

Her brow lifted. "Oh! I see. So there are six of you. Interesting." She reached her hand out to him. "Nice to meet you, Yroh."

He was relieved to be offered just a handshake, though that turned out to be false the moment he grabbed her hand. She yanked him towards her, sinking him to the furthest depths of her cleavage where his whole upper body disappeared, leaving nothing left but the top of his head which she palmed.

A muffled holler came out of her chest. "Mmmmmph!"

"Aw, come on! You should've seen this coming!" she cackled while subjecting him to the same spine-bending squeezes Harold had suffered through. He was wagged back and forth twice before being let go.

He came out from her bosom with messy hair and a gasping mouth. "Guhhhh!"

Sapheer twirled around and marched towards her palace, leaving the scrawny orc to recover from her kindness. "Come on, then! I've got a whole feast lined up for us! I won't have it go neglected a second longer!"

Harold watched as her haunches, equally explosive as her chest, swayed in her kilt like two wrecking balls knocking off one another. With a rumbling stomach, he had no choice but to follow it. Along the way he was introduced to everyone else. It included cousins and niblings to Mordin, though there was a conspicuous lack of a husband to Sapheer. If he existed, he wasn't at the palace, or at least hadn't introduced himself by the time they were seated at the dinner table ready to feast. It was a mighty one, with a table spanning the entirety of the dining hall, loaded from corner to corner with steamy hams, turkeys, vegetables, and desserts. Mordin, Harold, and Yroh sat next to Sapheer at the head of the table as the guests of honor, and yet they could hardly hear each other talk over the jovial clamor of orcs sloppily stuffing their faces and talking loudly.

Sapheer addressed Harold like they had known each other for their entire lives, referring to him as "brother" though it was only accurate by marriage. She kept her titanic bosom spread apart to make enough space between her and the table. A massive white bib was tied around her neck, stained in short order by a great menagerie of juices which came drooling down her pronounced jaw.

"So, Harold," she said with a fist and a jaw both full of turkey leg. She would chew two or three times in the middle of her sentences. "How has life as an orc been suiting you? Better than being a human, aye? Worse? I don't hear much in your letters. How was the transformation?"

"Well, it's been a year now. I've adjusted quite well, thanks to your brother and everyone else. I always say my kind could learn a thing or two about how to run a society from orcs, contrary to what my people and I used to believe."

"Ah, you thought we were a bunch of blood-hungry savages, weren't you?"

He nodded sadly. "Aye."

She swallowed what was in her mouth. She didn't bother starting another sentence before chomping off another mouthful. "I'm familiar with what you humans think of us."

"Sapheer," Mordin interjected. "Harold isn't a human anymore. He's one of us."

She waved him off. "Oh, I meant no offense. If the lad took it as such he'd let me know, wouldn't he?"

Harold recalled the times when he would tolerate all kinds of abuse from his family members. Soft, meek, little Harold. "Oh, I didn't take any offense from it. I am an orc by body, but a human by heart. I don't think any amount of time will change that."

She smiled and nodded. "Nor would it change the heart of an orc should they ever become a human, not that I know any that would. Again, no offense meant."

"Again, none taken."

"Aye, there are a great many things orcs do better than humans. I'm sure Mordin's taught you that since you've wedded, aye?" she said with a growing smirk.

Mordin groaned from the other side of the table. "Sapheer..."

She ignored him. "We might not be the savages you think we are in spirit, but we certainly are in the flesh, aren't we?"

Harold wasn't so eager to answer. "Uhhhhhh..." Betraying his answer was a brief trip of his eyes to Sapheer's bosom. "Well... Orcs are certainly... More robust than your average human, that's for certain."

"'Robust', eh? That's how you put it? Awfully short of reality, don't you think? Were you frightened by my brother's cock when you first saw it?"

"Sapheer!" barked Mordin, now blushing harder than Harold had ever seen him. When everyone on that side of the table turned to see what the commotion was he quickly hid his face from them and muttered to his sister. "That's hardly an appropriate question."

"Oh, please. Don't tell me you don't wag that thing around like it's your greatest pride. I know how all the women would throw themselves at you when we were younger. A shame for them your interests in a partner differed. Heh." She helped herself to another chomp of turkey leg.

Harold blushed too while trying to laugh off the rather crude intrusion on his sex life. It didn't help that it was Mordin's sister. "Well, I was... impressed." He spotted Mordin across the table, begging with his eyes for Harold not to indulge her. Everyone within earshot, including Yroh, were either snickering to themselves or pretending nothing was going on. Harold thought he'd change the subject. "I can see you're quite the specimen yourself." That wasn't much better.

It flattered Sapheer who put a beefy hand over her chest. "Oh! You're sweet. You could say a body made for fucking runs in the family. I hope Mordin uses his tool as often as I use mine when it comes to running his Duchy."

Harold's smile died. "What... what does that mean?"

"Sapheer..." Mordin groaned again.

She still ignored him. "What? Do you think I build trust with my court without making them cum? Look around you." She gestured to the rest of the table. "There isn't a man or woman not of my blood at this table I haven't shared a bed with, or at least shown the talents of my tongue." She punctuated her point with a barbaric loll of her tongue. Pink, wet, and long, the pointed tip fell well below her chin. Wreathing it was a devious grin. She retracted it. "If only Mordin was so keen to share that massive cock of his with everyone else, maybe he'd be an even more adept leader."

Harold's face was on fire. He didn't know whether to laugh or sneer with disgust. "I see," was all he had to say. Mordin knew exactly how he felt. He plucked his bib from around his neck and dropped it on his plate. Quite suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore. Yroh was beside him, keeping his head bowed to hide a blush-framed grin.

The rest of dinner was less crude, seeing the dining hall turn into a wasteland of discarded bones, soaked bibs, and a juice-dripped floor. Everyone was slumped in their chairs, hands on their bellies, groaning their content. Sapheer remained upright, hardly bothered by the great presence of food she'd accumulated in her gut. She patted her lips with a handkerchief before ripping a loud belch.

"I hope you boys enjoyed that," she said as she peeled off her bib. She scooted away from the table in her chair, allowing her tits to fall back into place with a calamitous crash and wobble. "Always a pleasure having my brother visit, not to mention meeting my brother-in-law and his friends."

"Likewise," Mordin said, if a little dryly.

"Yes, and thank you for such a spectacular meal." Harold said.

"Thank you, thank you," chimed Yroh who nodded enthusiastically.

"Now I don't think we've had the chance to bring our belongings to our room and settle in," Mordin said. "Or have you shown our drivers our rooms already?"

"Actually, there's something I needed to tell you," Sapheer said.

That didn't sound good. "What is it?"

"In your letter you failed to mention you'd be bringing a sixth guest with you. You mentioned Harold and your three drivers, but you neglected Yroh. We were going to put the three drivers in the quarters, a finer stay than it sounds. However, I'm afraid we only have one guest chamber available for your stay, the others are already occupied."

Reactions were mixed. Mordin and Harold only seemed mildly surprised. Yroh acted like he just found out the library had burned down. "What?" he asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sorry," Sapheer said. "There isn't really anywhere else to put you, at least not in equal comfort. I hope you don't mind a bunk in the quarters, or perhaps sharing a bed with Mordin and Harold."

Yroh's jaw hung, desperate to protest, but unable to do anything besides twitch silently. "Well... I don't... Uhh..."

"It's no issue if he bunks with us!" Mordin said for him in a sudden spree of charisma. "I won't have him hunkered in the dark with folk he doesn't know." He looked at Yroh. "Unless he wants to, which I doubt."

Yroh was struck. He thought of sharing a bed with the hypermasculine pair of Harold and Mordin. Anxiety and something else he couldn't quite identify made him shiver. No... I can't. Then he thought about spending his nights in the bunks with dozens of other orcs that he didn't know and the decision became much easier.

"Y-yeah, sure. I'll..." He laughed nervously. "I'll share a bed with Harold and-" He had to gulp. "-Mordin."

The dining hall boomed with Mordin's laughter and the smack of him patting Yroh on the shoulder, nearly making the young orc jump out of his skin. "Good to hear! Harold and I promise not to use too much space! They're big enough for two. We'll see if they can handle three."

Yroh made what could barely be classified as a smile. "Y-yeah! We'll see."

Harold was quiet, though he smiled along with everyone else, his own celebration going on inside him in secret. Now I'll get to see what's under that kilt.

***

The afternoon was spent touring the palace and the surrounding city. It was an egalitarian paragon like Mordin's city, but Yroh could hardly pay any attention to it. That night's sleeping arrangements plagued him, and would continue to do so until it arrived. Harold could sense the trepidation on him. He tried to keep his spirits up by commenting on interesting things they saw on the tour. Yroh would nod and smile before promptly becoming pensive again.

Harold felt for him, but his empathy would not stop him from stealing glances at Yroh's legs. Like always he would see the outline of a heavily swinging phallus bump into the fabric, but nothing enough to fully quench his curiosity. That would have to wait until the night, and even then it was not guaranteed to happen.

Nighttime came, and the three bunkmates entered their room for the first time. It wasn't quite the bastion of luxury like Mordin's chambers back at home, but it was much, much better than the servants' quarters. There was a large bed directly across from the entrance. Like Mordin said, it was enough for two massive orcs. Three, however, would be pushing it. Yroh discovered as much as he filed into the bedroom behind his roommates. He jumped when Harold closed the door behind them.

"Looks comfortable, doesn't it?" Mordin asked as he strode up to the bed. He slid one hand along the velveteen comforter. "Today was a long day. I'm ready to lie down and put an end to it."

"Aye," Yroh said. "So am I."

"So how should we arrange ourselves?" Harold asked. He approached the bed from the side and looked towards Yroh who found himself being all but interrogated.

"Well, I suppose we should see how much room there is for us by getting on it first," Mordin suggested. He sat on the foot of the bed and removed his sash, leaving bare the full majesty of his muscle-bloated trunk. Scooting back on the mattress and lying on his back gave Yroh a flashing view up his kilt, just enough to show off the head of his pecker and make Yroh's heart leap. "Ahhhh, this is nice." He patted the space on the bed next to him. "Come and join me. There's plenty of room."

Harold obeyed by climbing onto the bed by the side. He rolled over towards Mordin and came to a stop with a significant space between them, just enough to fit a third party. He lifted his head and smiled at the librarian. "Care to join us? Or do you plan on sleeping on the rug?"

Yroh looked at the valley between the two orcs like it was the maw of some terrible beast, and they weren't even nude yet. "N-no." He strode forward, gaze snapping between the two men who waited on him patiently. They still wore their kilts, but he knew that was about to change. As will mine. He got on the mattress by the foot and crawled in between them. There was just enough room for him to slump onto his back. He stared at the blankly decorated ceiling above him while deeply cognizant of the two hulking masses that flanked him. His tummy churned something awful, enough to make him queasy with excitement.

"You know, Harold and I usually sleep in the nude together," Mordin told him. His voice thrummed next to Yroh like a diesel engine, rattling Yroh's bones. "You don't mind, do you?" It was a genuine question, albeit hung with the genuine hope that the answer would be "no."

They were in luck. "No, not at all," Yroh said, heart beating faster.

Mordin smiled. "Good."

He and Harold started squirming in place to remove their kilts. Yroh darted his eyes between each one of them, watching as their fantastic pillars came to the light. Naturally he was most impressed with Mordin's. He stared at it with wide-eyes as the Duke tossed his kilt away and laid back with a sigh. From a jungle of black frizz his cock laid down the valley of his thighs, dark and venous, heavy like a war hammer. The scrotum alone looked like it could crush a cinder block. Harold was on the other side of him, in the same position. Though he did not muster the same immensity as his husband, its mere proximity made Yroh buzz with excitement all the same.

That left Yroh the only one clothed. The impetus was on him to join their nudity, and yet his hands fidgeted in front of his chest, not yet ready to unveil his secret. His bedmates looked at him, silently urging him to do the same as they. Harold was more demanding in his gaze, his curiosity having burned for too long to be denied.

"You're more than welcome to take that off," he told Yroh politely. "You've been in it all day. I know it must be dreadful."

"Aye," said Mordin. "Wear it if you like and if it makes you comfortable, but don't stew in your own heat on account of us."

Yroh thought he'd stew either way, but he could not deny the oven-like warmth that had blanketed him from the waist down. He probably looked like a prude with his kilt still on in bed and between two bare studs. There was no point in holding off any longer. These are my friends, he told himself. They will not judge me too harshly.

"Alright, yeah. Let me just... Hold on."

Harold and Mordin watched eagerly as he lifted his hips to reach for the tie holding the kilt in place. His hand came back out with it, and the kilt went slack. He tucked his thumbs into the waistline, hesitated, then sat up and slid it down his thighs, tossing them away when they were off. As can be expected, Harold and Mordin were looking at his crotch. What they saw shocked them both. Yroh was by no means especially large, at least by orc standards. Harold outdid him in length and girth, although that was a high bar to surpass. By that metric, he was modestly sized, by no means worthy of envy or mockery.

What stuck the two men was that he had two dicks.

They split apart from his loins at the root, side by side, each one aimed down their respective thigh. The tips loitered around his upper shins, both hidden behind a puckered foreskin. The dark brown bush they grew out of was neatly trimmed and in control, unlike the fat man purse just beneath it. It was not large because his balls were, but because there were four of them bundled together like tangerines in a sack. That was the secret he'd kept hidden for so long, the source of those bizarre bulges Harold had only caught glimpses of, something he never could've predicted.

The prevailing silence was suffocating, exacerbated by the two men ogling his double-junk. "Sorry. I know it's odd," said Yroh.

They realized how deeply they were staring, and hurried to apologize. "Oh, no, no, no!" Harold insisted. His guilt was heavy now that he could see how self-conscious Yroh was. "It's nothing odd at all. I'm astounded."

"As am I," said Mordin. "I've never seen anything like it! I'm jealous!"

Yroh's face was ablaze. "You flatter me."

"Nonsense! You ought to be proud of something so unique! And you've got the size to boot!"

"I'll say," added Harold. Seeing Yroh's cocks hadn't killed his curiosity like he'd hoped. It only invigorated it into a famine for touch. He rolled over on his side, letting his cock slump to the mattress next to Yroh. It was his everything not to grab the one closer to him on Yroh's thigh. "Do they both work? Can they both get hard? Can you fuck two folk at a time?"

"Wait, wait, wait," urged Yroh. "Slow down."

"Sorry."

"It's alright. I understand your curiosity. I just..." He coughed into his fist. "Never had two handsome men like yourselves so much interest in it. Never really had the chance."

"Well, you have it now," said Mordin. "Tell us about it, if you're comfortable."

Yroh let out a nervous "Heh" and squirmed. "Well, they both work as well as the other. One can get hard while the other remains soft, and they can both be hard at the same time. I can control which one I piss out of, but I don't think you really care about that. As for cumming..." He gulped. "Yes, they can both cum, and at the same time. I think each one has two testicles attached to them. I'm not quite brave enough for a doctor to find out whether they are or not. I'm happy with that remaining a mystery."

"Incredible," whispered Mordin.

"Aye," said Harold. "May we see them hard?"

"Um, well... Haha... Sure, if you don't mind me touching myself."

"Not at all," Mordin said before smirking. "Although we'd much prefer it if you'd let us get it hard for you."

Yroh's eyes turned big. "You would?"

"We sure would," said Harold. He crept one hand to Yroh's thigh, bringing the tip of his finger within tapping distance of his left fuck stick. "We'd like to see just how well these things work. I hope they work as well as you say they do~"

Butterflies took flight in Yroh's tummy. He was dreadfully lightheaded, the blood having rushed from it to funnel somewhere else. "Ahhh... Yes, please. Enjoy yourselves."

"We intend to," purred Mordin whose titanic paw swooped towards Yroh's starboard pecker and wrapped his fingers around it. Yroh jolted hard, both from the Duke's touch and his fear that Mordin would hurt him. It was unfounded. Mordin began stroking him slowly and gently, bringing his chunky, calloused hand along that one pole's full length. "Impressive," hummed Mordin. "And to be blessed with two of them. How lovely."

More for the both of us," quipped Harold who helped himself to a handful of Yroh's other cock. He was less gentle than Mordin, creating a firm grip that swung Yroh's turgid flesh this way and that as he jerked it.

A sharp inhale swept into Yroh's mouth. His face got even hotter while his breath escaped him in the form of a girlish shudder. Watching those two hands making merry on his manhood was mesmerizing. His right cock would sway gently in Mordin's grasp while its neighbor swirled gaily in Harold's.

"I... Hahhh... I'm glad you like them." He looked back at their cocks. He had all but forgotten that they were even there. "I rather like yours as well. May I?" He looked at Mordin with puppy eyes.

The bed shook with the Duke's humble laughter. "I'd be insulted if you didn't."

"Don't forget about me," chimed Harold, wagging his cock at Yroh with his free hand.

Yroh laughed. "Haha... Alright." He reached into Mordin's groin, grabbing his monument by the hilt. The heat alone was something to marvel at. Rubbing his palm down the vascular facade was enough to make him shudder. His thumb and middle finger failed to touch each other around its circumference, something that had been rumored about the Duke, but he couldn't quite believe. A pulse pounded inside of it against his palm, tickling it and inciting a more thorough stroking. He couldn't even reach Mordin's foreskin, it was so far down his Olympian legs.

Yroh obliged to stroke Harold too. With Harold on his side facing him it would bring the coming erection onto his trunk, an idea that made Yroh jerk him with even greater gusto. His coordination was split between the two hunks, but like a piano player he applied proper attention to them both, ensuring their gradual growth into a powerful pair of erections.

His own two rods grew in short order, proving his testimony and then some. At full staff they sprouted over his pelvis like a pair of perfectly symmetrical horns. The foreskins had peeled back to reveal the dark emerald color of his glans. Neither Harold nor Mordin stopped stroking him, soon generating a double drip of glassy precum.

"Theeeeere we go," cooed Harold. "Oh, they work alright. Looks like they work just fine."

"I don't know," said Mordin. "There's still a lot more they've got to do to prove themselves."

Yroh felt like he was in a sauna. The two men flanking him were the walls. His cheeks felt like rocks in a sauna. "Haha... I think they can hold up, perhaps." He gulped. "I'd like to find out." It was surreal hearing himself say that. Some horny nymph had crawled out of a primal part of his brain and taken over. He was loath to resist it, especially when he was having this much fun.

"Well, why don't we?" Harold asked. He pushed himself up into a kneeling position while holding onto Yroh's cock. He aimed it at the ceiling. Harold gave a saucy look with just one eye, igniting Yroh's arousal just as deeply as when he kissed the summit of his cock. "Mwah."

The librarian shuddered. "Ahhh..."

Harold maintained his steady handstrokes while doing the same to his own cock. Mordin sat upright on the other side and smiled down at Yroh. He wowed him with just the waterfall of black braid that came down his back and piled around his buttocks on the mattress. "Why don't you sit up for us, darling?"

"Yes sir..." Yroh sat upright next to Mordin. He wasn't sure what the Duke would do until he palmed the back of Yroh's head and pulled him in for an open-mouthed kiss. Mordin's eyes closed while Yroh's bugged out of their sockets. His whole lower face was all but swallowed by the Duke's kiss. Slobber splashed into his maw and around his lips as he felt a terrific suction grip his face. Mordin prodded his tongue at his lips, an invasion he allowed with a submissive relaxation of the jaw. Soon their mouth muscles wrestled one another, melting what was left of Yroh's resistance. His eyes rolled up behind closing lids and reciprocated the sloppy smooches Mordin provided.

Harold smiled to himself. Left to his own devices, he opened his mouth and swallowed the head of Yroh's cock. A tight seal formed around it, molding his lips its shape and siphoning a great deal of precum down his gullet. His tongue orbited the inside of the foreskin, electrifying Yroh and causing his cock muscle to throb. Harold heard him moan into Mordin's mouth, though it was quickly stifled by a tongue. Harold would squeeze more out of him as he sank his mouth deeper so that Yroh's cock helmet lay on his tongue. His head bobbed back up, then back down to assert a smooth rhythm. What shaft Harold couldn't reach with his mouth he made sure to rub with his two corkscrewing hands.

Yroh couldn't kiss Mordin back with how strongly the pleasure gripped his loins. With his face locked in place by the Duke's kisses, he cracked one eye open to watch Harold gob on his cock. As if sensing an audience, Harold opened his eyes and looked back at him, all while maintaining the fluid up and down on his pole. It had the appropriate effect on him, surging his pleasure into a fit of moans and leg-quakes.

"Uhhhh! Uhhhhhh..." he moaned directly into Mordin's mouth.

The Duke pried his mouth away, bringing a long thread of slobber that split and drooped from both their bottom lips. He chortled. "Doing a good job, isn't he?"

"God, yes..."

"I know he is. I've given him plenty of practice." He shot Harold a wink.

Harold just rolled his eyes and kept fellating.

Yroh inhaled sharply. "Ahh! I think I'm going to cum! Ohhhhh!"

Mordin encouraged him with a warm palm on his chest, right over his heart. His face hovered beside the flank of Yroh's face so that his voice thrummed directly into his ear. "Go ahead. Cum for us."

That sensual command was not done ringing when Yroh obeyed. His face wrinkled with a loud moan. "Hyuuuuhhhhhh~!"

Harold felt the first throb crash into his tongue, immediately followed by a rope of cum jabbing him in the very back of the throat. He slid his mouth off with a rude thhhhh-pop and started jerking Yroh hard. His mouth stayed open beside the ivory-spewing fountain, tongue lolling to catch as many cum pearls as he could. Dozens of them rained down after arcing several feet in the air. What Harold couldn't catch with his tongue or face landed about Yroh's lap and the surrounding sheets. With each throb and spurt his penis would expand in Harold's grasp. The green color deepened and the veins winded through it more chaotically. It looked especially enormous next to his right cock which stayed the same size. His ballsack grew too, though all four balls remained proportionate.

His ejaculation died away, and that one pillar started going soft. The opposite tower, however, still stood strong, weeping a single trail of precum which beaded near the base. "Well, I'm happy to report that one works," Harold said as he sat back up, face vandalized. "Why don't we see if the other one is just as capable, hmm?"

Yroh was hung in a cloud of delight, still trying to recover his intellect. "Ahh... God... Yes... That one will work just as well."

Mordin caressed it with his fingers. "I'd like to take your word for it, but I think you'll have to demonstrate for us in order to prove yourself again."

Yroh laughed. "Aye, I think I can do that." He looked at Harold. "Are you going to suck this one too?"

"Well, as much as I enjoyed gobbing on this one, I think I'd rather you fuck me with its twin," Harold responded.

"Oh. I think I'd rather do that too."

"Don't forget about me," Mordin said.

Yroh looked at him. He couldn't help but notice the size difference between them. "Do you want me to fuck you too?"

Mordin and Harold both laughed. "No, not quite," Mordin told him. "Bottoming isn't my preference. It's you I'd like to fuck."

Harold felt a block of ice materialize in his gut. Quite suddenly the size difference between them was even more significant. "O-oh... I..."

Harold assured him with a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright. I had the same trepidations when we first laid with each other. That was the day of my transformation. I thought he'd tear me in half even as an orc. It was much easier than I thought, even after he had grown several sizes."

"But you're much larger than I am. I'm but a doll compared to you." He looked at Mordin, then at his semi-hard battering ram. It was slumped down over his lap like a tree in the wind, not quite hard but getting there quick. "And you..."

"Don't worry," Mordin said. "If it's too much, I won't force it. If at any moment you feel like you can't take it, just say the word. I'll be out lightning fast." He saw Yroh's reaction. "Er... Maybe not that fast... Or fast at all. I'll take it easy, is what I'm saying."

Yroh relaxed, if just a little. "OK, I trust you."

Mordin patted him on the shoulder. "Good to hear. Harold, how do you want to do this?"

"I wanna sandwich him between us. I'll be on my back and he'll fuck me while you fuck him from behind."

Hearing it said out loud made Yroh queasy. Mordin smiled from ear to ear. "Capital idea," said the Duke. "Go and get ready for us."

"With pleasure~" Harold laid down and merrily rolled onto his back with his knees apart. His cock was already hard, sitting atop his belly with the tip resting between his pecs. He rubbed the inside of one thigh invitingly. "Come here and get comfortable~"

Yroh felt both his cocks throb, the right one more emphatically. "Yeah!" he huffed giddily.

He crawled over and knelt between Harold's thighs. His mismatched phalluses hung over Harold's purse. The left was hard again, though it would have to wait for its second climax. Harold peeled his buttocks apart, showing off his knotted, dark green donut while looking at Yroh seductively. Yroh licked his lips and grabbed his right pole. He aimed it at that wrinkled crater and their bodies collided most intimately. Burning hot flesh winked around his cock tip, urging him to press onward. A shiver was shared between them both; Yroh had to breathe through his mouth to keep himself calm and collected. Slowly he pushed with his hips, and Harold's pucker distended around him.

"Ohhhh~" cooed the Duchess. "That's it."

"Hahhh..." Yroh kept pushing until he felt the abrupt jerk of Harold's muscle ring gaping to his glans. The grip was tight, but not suffocating. It was more than enough to milk him for a few pangs of delight and some very sincere huffs. "Ahhh... Ahhh..." He let go of his cock to hold himself up on the mattress. Harold obliged to hold it for him and keep it steady as he continued a slow forward push. The two men cooed and grunted with each coming inch. The dick not vanishing into Harold's porthole slid up the topside of his pelvis, between his massive package and his thigh. It oozed precum impatiently.

Yroh went down to the hilt and held himself there for a few moments to absorb Harold's loving grip. His face twitched and contorted. "Uhhh... Ohhh..." Harold urged him to lay down on top of him with a gentle pull on his shoulders. Yroh didn't resist, and the two lovers laid on each other belly to belly with Harold's fat cock throbbing between them.

"Mmmmmm, how's that?" Harold asked him.

"Hahhhhh... Delightful, to say the least. Mmf."

"I agree~ Mmmm..."

"Mind if I join?" rumbled a deep voice from behind Yroh.

It sent a lightning bolt up his spine. He swung his head around to spot Mordin up on his knees, that terrific cock slung out in front of him, still working to get erect. "Ahh... Of course."

"Don't worry," Mordin said. "I'll go easy... at first. If it's too much, just say something."

"Alright," Yroh said. His throat was uncomfortably dry. "Yeah... Fuck me. I'm ready."

"That's what I like to hear~" The Duke came wandering over on his knees, dick wagging in front of him menacingly. He came to a stop several feet behind the two men, leaving room for his cock which he hoisted up and then let flop on Yroh's ass crack. Pap!

"Ah! Ahah!" Yroh felt like he'd been penetrated already. He shivered violently. The automatic clench of his tailhole made his cocks throb inside and out of Harold.

Harold purred while rubbing his shoulders. "Relax, sweetheart. It'll make it easier."

"Ahh... I know, I know." He forced himself to take two deep breaths, putting a damper on his nerves somewhat.

Mordin was gentle in sawing his turgid weapon up along the crease between Yroh's buttocks. It grew hard in increments, the dark green helmet sprouting free of his foreskin until at last he was totally erect. It spread up the length of Yroh's back heroically like a summit flag. Yroh dared to look over his shoulder at it, a further bane to his frayed nerves. He felt a hand on his chin which pulled his face back forward. There was Harold smiling at him.

"Don't worry about him," he said. "Just look at me." Then he kissed him, gently and with puckered lips, like a human would.

It was the best balm to Yroh's anxiety, and slowly his trembling died away. That was Mordin's cue. While his husband calmed the librarian with kisses, Mordin brought his hips back so that his pillar fell in line with Yroh's backside. Harold discreetly pulled his haunches apart for better access which Mordin made sure to take advantage of. His warhead fell into Yroh's canyon and pressed into his vulnerable back door.

Yroh's face scrunched. He broke the kiss with Harold and let out a meek "Ahh~"

Harold kissed his neck so he could articulate how good or bad it felt. It was certainly arduous now that Mordin was pressing into him, forcing his ass into a gape. Mordin went slowly like he would with any new lover. He recalled the night when Harold transformed and they first made love. The noises Yroh made now were exactly like Harold's that night. They were mixed with pain and pleasure, the latter ceding into the former as Mordin went deeper. Yroh gaped and gaped until at last he was forced to Mordin's breath, swallowing the head in one sudden burst.

His back swung into an arch, bringing his contorted visage into the air above Harold. "Uhhh! Huhhh! Ohhh!"

Mordin massaged his backside. "How's that?" he asked calmly. "Too much?"

Yroh took several moments to answer as he let the discomfort wane. However intense, he was too enthralled to stop now. His cock was already bursting with delight inside of Harold. "Mmmmm, no... No, it's fine. Keep going."

"Alright. Here I come." And so he did, inching that cannon deeper into Yroh's guts until a fat bulge erupted in his lower abdomen to mark the Duke's approach.

Harold was his wingman, soothing the embattled librarian with more kisses on the neck and rubs on his lower back. "That's it, darling. You're doing great. Doesn't it-? Mmm... Doesn't it feel good? Hahhh..."

Yroh managed to crack a smile with his O-shaped maw. "Ahahahhhh... Yes... Now that I'm... Mmmm... Relaxed... Yes... Hahahhhhhhh... Ohhhhh..."

Mordin watched his cock slide deeper inside with the surrounding the buttocks and sphincter clinging to it for dear life. It came to a stop when Yroh's body could simply take no more, that being roughly the midway point down his length. This was when a huge cock bulge had grown out of his tummy, right between his navel and thorax. Not once had Yroh said "stop". He wouldn't, not when his boy buzzer was so firmly pressed, causing both his cocks to seep precum into and onto a grateful Harold.

Now in place, Mordin carefully laid down on the two men. A shadow fled over Yroh in the moment before he felt an avalanche of weight fall on him. The breath was crushed out of his lungs. "Hoouuhhh..." He felt the squeeze most on his cock and behind. Mordin's hot, steamy breath puffed against the back of his ear and down his neck, mixed in with some gentle kisses.

"Comfortable?" whispered a voice in his ear.

"Nnnnnnnn... Yes~" wheezed Yroh.

"Good, because I think it's time we really started~"

Mordin did so by lifting his hips and withdrawing a portion of his cock, an action followed by a curt thrust into Yroh's ass. Whumpf! Both men beneath him felt it, their collective reactions echoing out through the bedroom in a harmonized shout-moan. Yroh quivered between them, trapped in a lock box of muscle and masculinity. He felt Harold's grip on him more tightly now, though it paled next to the almighty presence that was drilling across his spongy prostate. It robbed every ounce of strength in his body, melting him atop Harold like butter in a hot pan.

Harold swooned his head next to Yroh's, the enjoyment painted on his features. "Huhhh... That's it... Mmmm, yes... You enjoying it too, darling?"

"Hyuuuuueeeeeggghhhhhhh~~~!!!"

"Mmmmm, good to know~"

A steadily thrusting Mordin chuckled. "Haha, feeling much better about it now, aren't you, Yroh?"

"Nnnnnnnnuuuhhhhh! Yes! Yeeeeeesss..."

"Ah... Good, because I'm going easy on you now. Huh. There's more for you coming shortly."

It was not long ago when that information would have filled Yroh with dread. Now it only filled him with impatience. "Yes! Huhhh! Harder! Fuck me... harder... Huhhhhhhh!"

Harold giggled. "Huhhh... You heard him. Fuck us harder... Huhhh! Come on..."

The Duke grinned. "As you wish.

Whumpf. Whumpf. Whumpf. WHUMPF. WHUMPF. WHUMPF.

The bed squealed under the force levied upon it, though not nearly as bombastically as the two sluts it held aloft. Harold moaned, Yroh hollered. Their collective juices bled from their cocks in spurts synchronized with the assaults on their insides. Mordin would thrust into Yroh who would fuck Harold in turn. Harold did not register that his husband wasn't the one fucking him, at least not directly. With both men piled atop him it was as though both their manhoods were drilling into him with the usual vehemence.

That was the end of Yroh's reticence, it having been pounded out of him in full now. His voice rang the loudest, all discomfort gone too. What remained was that blinding beacon of bliss in his backside, that heavenly glow that would flare when Mordin slammed into his guts. The bulge that would grow from his tummy shoved into Harold's cock, piling onto his enjoyment just as well. Their collective screams, now on par with one another's, was a music so beautiful that not even Mordin thought he was worthy of listening to it. That didn't mean he was going to stop. That wasn't going to happen until all three of them had came their brains out.

Yroh would be first, his hollers turning shrill and even less intelligible now that his ecstasy was starting to peak. "Uhhhhh! Uhhhhhh! UHHHHHHH!!!" His head was lifted from Harold's shoulder, mouth opened to its fullest with a sharpening crescendo.

Harold was alongside him in that race, his face contorting, voice sharpening. He could muster his words thanks only to a year of learning how to control his voice in bed with Mordin. "Huhhhh! Fuck! Cumming! I-! Huhhhh! I'm about to cum! Yes! YES! HUHHHHHH!!!"

Mordin received the news loud and clear. He knew exactly what to do, speeding up his plunges and delivering them full force.

WHUMPF. WHUMPF. WHUMPF. WHUMPF-WHUMPF-WHUMPF-WHUMPF-!

His own expression hardened with the acceleration of his effort and pleasure. A threatening growl blew out of his nose and into Yroh's ear. "Hahhhh! Cum for me... Yes... I'm cumming too. Fuck! Huhhhhhh!" A few more thrusts from there and he was thrown headfirst into a catastrophic finish. His hips heaved and his back arched, throwing his angry snarl into the air. "HRRRRRNNN-NNNNNNGGGHHHHHHHH~~~!!!"

Yroh felt it in his deepest core, that first throb and spurt of cum. Molten love laid waste to his insides, winding through every curve and bend under the pressure of Mordin's angrily pulsing cock. He was already on the precipice. The push he needed was delivered like a locomotive, an explosion of pleasure unlike anything he'd ever experienced. The squeal he had been in the middle of was choked off, the breath having caught in his chest. At once his legs spasmed violently. An ejaculation more fierce than the last ripped out of him and into Harold, the trigger for the third mutual climax.

Harold joined their revelry, the top of his head pressing into the pillow now that his spine was bending so unhealthily. His orgasm was the only one uncontained, spewing from his cock, piling under his chin and onto his and Yroh's chests. In their combined delights, all of their phalluses grew. Yroh felt Mordin's swelling come in waves just like his throbs, pouring fuel on the blaze that was his climax. Harold felt the same inside him with Yroh, again feeling like his husband. Mordin felt Yroh tighten on him, completing the trifecta of intensifying orgasms that made each man cry out loudly.

Passions died down, and Mordin slumped atop Yroh, pancaking him almost. For a while they simply huffed and puffed, their strengths sufficiently robbed from them. Yroh did not register the crushing weight, not when he was over his head in an ocean of dopamine. Harold was somewhat cognizant, rubbing Yroh's shoulder and cooing to him.

"Hahhh... Hahhh... Yeah... That was wonderful... God..."

A deep chuckle from Mordin. "Aye... It was. Mmph." The Duke pried himself from Yroh and knelt upright. He saw the librarian splayed across his husband like roadkill, breathing thinly. "You alive down there?" he asked.

Yroh answered as best he could. "Nnnnnnn..."

"Heh. Very good, very good." Mordin grabbed himself by the root of his penis and scooted backwards. It came out much darker than it had gone in, with a texture like rawhide, swollen and smothered with even more veins. It popped out only after Mordin had retreated several feet, leaving behind a hole so large that it did not collapse immediately. Gushing forth was a flood of cum that piled down Yroh's taint and double balls, eventually pooling on the sheets between his legs.

"Uhhh..." He meant to roll off and pull out of Harold, but his legs were far too weak. "Can't... Move..."

"Hold on, sweetheart," said Harold. "I got you." He was able to grab Yroh by the midriff and help him off. He fell to the side limply, his right cock schlorping out of Harold. It was just as big as the other. Its product bled out of Harold's tailhole in droves. He let Yroh down next to him, letting him relax.

"Oh heavens..." he wheezed. "That was... Ethereal... I've never felt anything so delightful. I'm in heaven." His eyes came open to see Mordin with his engorged cock. "Goodness... Was all of that inside of me?"

"Well, not all of it," Mordin said. "But a great deal of it."

"Hahhh... I can hardly believe it." He rubbed his tummy where it felt like there was a great void. He noticed the giant splotch of cum Harold had left on his collar and chest. "Ahhh... I'm glad you came too."

"I hardly had a choice," Harold said. "You fuck pretty good."

Yroh scoffed. "Hardly. It's your husband that's to blame for that."

"You give me too much credit," Mordin said. "You've got a blessing with those two cocks. I think you'll learn to use them quite properly over time."

"You think so?"

"I'm certain of it. We'll put it through the gauntlet tonight."

"Tonight?" Yroh said with a sincere frown. "What do you mean tonight?"

"By tonight he means tonight," Harold said. "What, do you think we were going to stop at just two climaxes?" He laughed out loud. "You've got a lot more to learn about us. Welcome to our bed~"

* * *

Yroh woke up late in the morning to the smell of pure sex. It was splotched everywhere around the bed: on the sheets, the floor, the nearby drapes, the headboard, etc. Yroh felt it stickied on his body, especially between his buttocks and thighs. He was between his two partners, both still unconscious, their snores like jet engines.

He lifted his head to look down at himself. Wowing him more than just the Pollockian assortment of cum stains was the size his two cocks had achieved. They were on his stomach and chest in a V formation, covering more ground than he had ever seen them. The tips were past his shoulders. The scrotum and its four balls forced his legs open to make room. He sat up and saw how monstrous Harold and Mordin's cocks had become. The Duke was on his back, one huge arm resting on his forehead. Yroh didn't register his scrotum as such now that it sat atop Mordin's thighs like a barrel. Thick, leathery green skin bloated around a pair of testes the size of boulders. His penis was just as barbaric, reaching past the Duke's shoulders with a girth of an oak. It was limp, laid diagonally across Mordin's torso like a sash. Looking closely Yroh thought he could see the many veins that swept through it pulsing. Harold was on the other side of him, sleeping peacefully on his side with his hands folded beneath his head. The serene look on his face was in contrast to his own monstrous manhood which reached across the mattress in front of him like an anaconda. Nuts similar to Mordin sagged down his thigh in their purse, making the mattress sink around it.

Yroh groaned his way to the foot of the bed and stood on the floor. The muscles in his legs were rubbery, but he managed his way towards the kilt he had discarded yesterday. It was awkward walking with two huge cocks hanging off him. He doubted his kilt would be able to conceal them entirely.

Lucky for him, someone had already thought of that. He saw a neatly folded pile of clothes near the door. He came up to it curiously and noticed a note folded on top. He bent over to pick it up- hissing in the process -and read it.

Hey, fellas!

Sounds like you guys enjoyed last night! Especially Yroh! That boy can scream!

Here are some extra clothes to help hide the swelling I'm sure you boys went through. Plus, I'm sure your clothes are stained beyond recognition.

Feel free to sleep in for as long as you like! I'm sure you're all very sore.

-Sapheer

THE END