No Way Out
This story is an experiment of sorts. I wrote a five part no yiff story that went along similar premises, of Grimtotems capturing two trespassing tauren and giving them the option of slavery of death. In a sort of Run Lola Run _fashion, I pondered what would happen if, at a key point within the story, Samhuinn had reacted differently than he had, in an alternate universe sort of thing. This story is the result of that pondering.
Warning tags include M/M, foot (hoof?) fetishism, nonconsentuality, and dominance/submission. Oh yeah, and, you know, sex._
He had to turn his head and close his eyes. The fear, the disgust, and the pain that wrenched his stomach did not diminish, for the imprint of the dagger against his mate's neck remained etched in his mind. He bit down the waves of terrified nausea that threatened to bring him to his knees, forcing himself to realize that without courage, his lover's life was forfeit. Sympathy was not characteristic of the Grimtotem clan, just as bravery was not characteristic of Samhuinn Runetotem.
Ignore the blade, he told himself, drumming the words into his head as though his heartbeat were the hammer. Ignore the eyes upon you and the pain in your arms. It is only you and your mate, and he is reliant upon you.
It became easier. There were six Grimtotem in the large high tent, dark-furred and burly bulls, disciplined and stoic. Four stood watching near the tent's exit with long iron hammers, each weapon's butt implanted in the ground at their hooves. One stood harshly clutching a rope-bound Ambershanks Runetotem; the sunlight from outside shone off the blade he held to the tan-furred tauren's throat. His other hand clamped around Ambershanks's gagged mouth, keeping the wriggling bull still.
Samhuinn opened his eyes and looked up into the blackness of the sixth and largest tauren's face. He reclined against a mock throne, neatly perched a foot or two off the ground upon a pile of clay. The bull was very large. Samhuinn had to crane his neck to peer up at the chieftain of this Grimtotem tribe; his eyes were cold and gray with contempt. The Grimtotem was scantily clad, unlike Samhuinn; a loincloth covered him near the upper legs, but he wore no shirt nor kilt. It was apparent why. Great bulging muscles rippled all over the bull's body, as Samhuinn had never seen. Thoroughly exposed, they struck intimidation deep into Samhuinn's heart. He felt tiny by comparison, as though the chieftain could reach out and snap his neck with a flick of his fingers. Still he forced himself to think straight.
"... Name your price," Samhuinn growled. He did not know the strength of his own voice, but he saw the amused smirk on the chieftain's face and felt his stomach churn.
"Price?" One of the chieftain's bushy eyebrows raised. "That is a funny word to use. How do you know this is open to barter? How do you know if I do not simply wish to have you sit there and watch while I kill your friend in front of you? Or you in front of him? How do you know I will not demand your servitude or your life instead of selling it to you? It seems to me you are in no position to haggle. The penalty for trespassing on Grimtotem ground is steep indeed. I would have thought every mooncalf knew that. Your punishment is subject to my whim. My whim... is usually quite, shall we say, drastic."
Lifting his eyes up from Samhuinn, he nodded faintly across the tent. By him and before him, the four tauren warriors at the ready stamped their hooves and brandished their hammers in a thunder of noise. Samhuinn looked around at them in a wondrous anxiety. Dimly he knew there must be a reason he had been given a chance to speak before the chieftain, not slain on the spot, but he was too disconcerted to figure out why. Ambershanked thrashed as Samhuinn passed him over, but the rope and his captor's grip remained. Samhuinn swallowed, looking back at the dark-furred bull.
"I must concede I like the idea, though," the Grimtotem chief said. "Surely I would not wish to be accused of being cruel, would I?" He smiled, a little too widely. Samhuinn gulped again, shaking his head. "Three choices. I'll give you three choices, and you can pick the one that agrees with you best. You resolve yourself to slavery for myself and the clan. If that does not appeal to you, you may elect to have us end your life - or third, to end his." He jerked a thumb in Ambershanks's direction. Samhuinn shakily followed it to his mate, meeting Ambershanks's gaze with eyes wide.
The chieftain nudged a massive gray hoof forward, setting it upon the slope of the soil mound. The larger tauren glanced down at Samhuinn expectantly. When the burgundy bull did not budge, he growled, his smile sick, "Go on, mooncalf. Kiss my hoof. Seal your fate. Pledge your loyalty. Nobody has to die this day, druid. I promise you his life and yours shall be spared - if you please me."
Samhuinn was vaguely aware of Ambershanks thrashing out of the corner of his eye, but the younger bull was still. His wide green eyes met the Grimtotem bull's square on, paralyzed with indecision, helpless with fright. After a long moment, his head dropped down, his chin pressed into his neck. He tucked his hands tightly beneath his arms, wrists braced against his chest, eyes closed. His paws vanished as he hugged them into his body.
The black furred tauren looked down upon Samhuinn, his grin no longer apparent. After Samhuinn was silent and still for a full minute, the chieftain swiped a paw through the air, marking a flourished gesture.
"Our criminal seems incapable of making a decision himself, so I shall make it for him. Branshar." He turned his gray eyes toward the bull holding Ambershanks bound. His voice was a command. "Kill the lanky one, then do the same fo-"
"Wait!"
Samhuinn jerked his head up, biting down hard upon his lower lip. His arms went slack at his side as he stood there before the larger bull, able only to peer up at him. Only once the Chieftain met his gaze did Samhuinn find it within himself to speak, his voice hesitant but imploring.
"... W-wait... ... I-I will do it."
"Do it?" One of the Grimtotem's eyebrows raised. "... Do what?"
After a moment, Samhuinn spread his arms out, though he could no longer retain eye contact. He raised his shoulders slightly, trying to keep his voice from stammering. "If... you... will... l-let him live... ... I... will... follow y-your will." Humiliated, he glanced aside, awaiting the chieftain's response in silence.
The Grimtotem's steely gaze melted into satisfaction. He reclined back onto his wooden throne, his muscular body relaxing as his hoof slid forward. "I thought you might. You seem the type, mooncalf." His wicked grin made Samhuinn wince. As the burgundy bull paused, the Grimtotem inclined his head forward, a dangerous aura of persistence in his words. "You know what you have to do, mooncalf. Kiss it. I demand it."
Samhuinn breathed in slowly through his snout. He kept his eyes ahead, determined not to look at his mate, lest he find himself unable to do what he must. He stepped forward once, then twice, slowly reaching out his paws as he knelt to his knees. His eyes shifted anxiously from the bull's face to his foot. Taking the hoof between his hands, he pecked it slightly, and began to pull back.
"If you call that a kiss, mooncalf, your servitude will be ended as shortly as your life. I expect you to worship it as you would my will. If you disappoint me-"
His words were cut short as Samhuinn, in a panic, bent over and kissed the bull's hoof once more. It was dusty and worn, with a small crack on the side, but Samhuinn could not allow himself to exhibit a hint of disgust. He held the hoof in both hands as he licked it, occasionally lifting it from the ground to kiss his soles. He knew the eyes of six others as well as his lover were upon him, and he felt the burning of embarrassment stinging at his cheeks, but he could not allow himself to stop. The price of his dignity was scarcely a cost to be considered if it ensured his lover's life.
When the big bull nudged his other hoof forward, he did not need to command Samhuinn's next action. The younger tauren understood with only a glance, leaving the wet hoof to service the second one. It was as dirty and ragged as the first, but the bull felt just a little more confident the second time around. His pink tongue lapped upon the edges of the Grimtotem's foot, stopping only to wipe his mouth.
After a few minutes, the Grimtotem had sunk all the way back into his throne. He was watching Samhuinn with eyes wide with pleasure, unable to hide the smirk that pushed on the corners of his mouth.
"That is enough. Rise, mooncalf."
Samhuinn's eyes flickered up to the black tauren's face. He glanced back down at the hoof for just a second before he rose, taking in an anxious deep breath. The redness of his cheeks flushed brightly beneath his maroon fur as he tried to ignore the sneers of the Grimtotem guardians nearby. A tremor of fear washed over him as the Grimtotem sat up in his throne, and Samhuinn's mind raced with the possibilities of what would happen next, now that he had resigned himself to the great chieftain's will. For all his worries, he was entirely unprepared for what happened next.
Keeping his gray eyes locked on Samhuinn, the Grimtotem reached behind himself, quietly undoing the strings to his loincloth. He cast it aside casually, his smile now mischievous. The cloth brushed against his growing erection, which came to full sprout just as understanding dawned in Samhuinn's head. The druid stared incredulously up at the burly, naked bull before him now, unable to think beyond the rush of surprise, horror, and excitement inside him. The massive tauren spread his legs slightly, letting his genitals dangle in the air.
"What did you expect, mooncalf?" The chief laughed, unashamed of his exposure before so many eyes. His glare never left Samhuinn. "You would wash my clothes and cook my meals? Now that your tongue is warmed up, I expect you to try it on something a little bigger." He waited just a beat, before his voice took on a harsh snap. "Now, mooncalf. The penalty for a disobedient slave makes that for trespassing seem trivial."
Trembling faintly, Samhuinn stepped forward, jerking his eyes off of the Grimtotem's face and onto his crotch. His wet green eyes widened slightly as he took in a slow breath, taking in the sight of the bull's noteworthy length. As he approached the Grimtotem's makeshift throne, he began to detect the chief's powerful scent. His snout wriggled as his cheeks tightened; he could not have said whether the smell was pleasant or noxious. His mind was racing, but going nowhere.
"Just remember, as you are pleasuring me, mooncalf, I hold your life and your friend's in check. Try something tricky, and I can have him killed with a gesture. Do you understand?"
Samhuinn felt a lump in his throat. He nodded.
"Speak, weasel! You will call me master! Yes or no, mooncalf?"
"Y-yes..."
"Yes what?"
"Y-yes... ... mas... ter."
The Grimtotem smirked, reclining back into his chair once more. His penis throbbed with anticipation, catching Samhuinn's eye. The burgundy bull stared down at it, helpless, knowing he had no more chance to procrastinate. Thinking only that he was doing this to save his mate's life, even if it seemed as though he were betraying his bond of fidelity - he had no choice in the matter. Slowly, Samhuinn reached out and took the Grimtotem's length between the fingers of his paws. The bull's dick throbbed pleasantly, and he let out a great sigh. Samhuinn had seen that look before; it was the look of a bull who been craving this for a long while. Hesitating no longer, he descended upon the tauren's crotch, taking its tip into his mouth.
The male tauren's scent was powerful now. Despite his inner protests, Samhuinn could not deny that it was as pleasing a scent as the bull's muscular body was a sight. With practiced slowness, Samhuinn slid down the length of the Grimtotem's maleness, taking as much of his penis into his mouth as he could. The chieftain was bigger than Ambershanks, wider and longer, and the poor bull nearly choked as the chief thrust into him, digging toward his throat. The smaller male withdrew slightly, still suckling the tauren's tip with a hesitant interest. Samhuinn peered up the black furred bull's body to his face, watching the beast's eyes close and his body shift beneath him. His penis throbbed in Samhuinn's mouth, stabbing fiercely against the younger druid's tongue.
A few yards away, Ambershanks Runetotem watched in a mixture of horror and repressed delight. His captor still held him still; he knew he could not escape from his bonds. He tried to yell again, but the tight gag binding his mouth repressed his words to all but a muffled grunt. He could do nothing but watch his love, his mate, forced to pleasure another before his very eyes. Instinctive jealousy merged with frustration and fear. He did not allow himself to acknowledge a fourth feeling, a wink of pleasure at watching this spectacle unfold.
When Samhuinn withdrew from the Grimtotem's groin, it was only to wipe his dribbling mouth. Desperate to please the larger male, he lapped at the tauren's length vigorously, sometimes squishing it between his face and the bigger tauren's fuzzy belly. Feeling his superior writhe beneath him, Samhuinn's hands instinctively extended to touch the chieftain's scrotum and his sheath, stroking them. Despite his clear discomfort with eyes upon him, Samhuinn found himself growing aroused, his penis rising to press tightly against his kilt. He shifted faintly in a vain attempt to obscure his bulge from other eyes, splashes of pink running under his cheek fur as he kissed at the bead of precum emerging from the chieftain's cocktip.
"Drasnari, I know that look."
Samhuinn's eyes shot up to the chieftain's face, but the larger male was not looking at him. Still reclined into his throne, the Grimtotem was staring across the tent at one of his guardians. Samhuinn craned his head to look, but he felt a gigantic paw grab hold of his mane, keeping his head still, pressed against the bull's crotch. He heard the guardian in the back reply, then felt the chieftain's laughter ripple through his body.
"I thought as much. Our mooncalf is... ready, then? Yenskhan, Palako, you know what to do." The great bull stabbed one last time into Samhuinn, leaving a smear of precum along the druid's cheek. Without comprehension, Samhuinn stared up blankly at his master's face before he felt large hands grasping his arms. With a shocked gasp, he was yanked up to his hooves and into the clutches of guardians, two husky bulls with dark fur. Surprised, Samhuinn attempted to wriggle from their arms, struggling as they yanked off his clothing and his adornments. He tried to protest, but one clasped his paw over the druid's mouth, silencing him while the other stripped him bear.
Only once Samhuinn was entirely naked did the two guardians retreat to their previous positions. He was too shocked to speak. He closed up into himself, his body tensing as his shoulders lifted and his arms covered his body, humiliated in front of so many eyes. He squeezed his hips in, trying to attempt to hide his erect bullhood, but could not. Terrified, he turned his gaze to his bound mate, keeping gaze with him until he felt the mound shake as the chieftain rose to his hooves. The larger male's eyes were wide with lust. He regarded the smaller bull's nude body as one would a trophy or a prized object. Samhuinn stared up at him, dumbfounded, his mind blank. He took a step back, then another, and started to turn, but the chieftain was upon him.
"Don't even try to escape, mooncalf!" the Grimtotem leader gloated, latching out and grasping the druid's shoulder. Samhuinn's struggle was futile against the bull's greater strength. The chieftain yanked him toward the throne nearly effortlessly. He snatched Samhuinn by the hairs of his mane and pushed him down, bending the druid over the chair's arm.
It was all happening so fast, Samhuinn could scarcely think. "W... w-wait, wait, no, p-please do not-" he gasped, but his mind could scarcely formulate a word. His chest slammed into the wood as his hooves almost gave way. He attempted to stand himself up, but the Grimtotem slammed up behind him. He felt the enormous bull's chest lining his back, felt his arms wrap tightly around his chest, felt the chieftain slide in and breath into his ear, soft words not intended for the others to hear.
"Relax," he coaxed. "I know your type. You will enjoy this as much as I do... mooncalf."
Samhuinn opened his mouth to protest, but was caught on a gasp as the Grimtotem smashed his penis deep into Samhuinn's tailhole, penetrating him up to the hilt. The submitting bull nearly felt his balance give way under the force of the thrust, but the black tauren's grip around his chest kept him secure. Samhuinn wriggled, his eyes squeezing shut in pain. He gasped slightly, forced to spread his legs out to accommodate the Grimtotem's thickness. The larger male leaned in, pressing Samhuinn up tightly against the arm of the throne, clutching his mane and his back tightly against his body. The Grimtotem's bullhood was so wide, Samhuinn was afraid to buckle forward against the throne, lest his insides be hurt. He was almost too petrified to budge, much less defy the stronger tauren. As such, he kept his hindquarters high, his rump spread, his chest pressed uncomfortably up against the Grimtotem's muscular arms and the wood of the chair.
"G... gods, no..." he moaned, eyes still closed. He tried to shake his head, but the larger bull clamped his teeth down upon the druid's mane harshly, keeping him still, like an animal. With a painful slowness, the larger one began to withdraw from Samhuinn's tailhole only to stab in once more, and again, and again. He quickly upped his pace, jabbing his penis deep inside, his scrotum smacking squarely against the submissive bull's own with each thrust. Samhuinn heard and felt the Grimtotem's breath hot on his back, his strong fingers squeezing and relaxing around his chest. Samhuinn moaned once again, low, this time without words. Helplessly, his paws gripped the side of the throne, bracing himself against the tauren's assault.
After what felt like many minutes, the Grimtotem slid his head down Samhuinn's mane. The hairs of his face tickled lightly against the back of the burgundy bull's ear. Quietly through heaves for air, the chieftain whispered, "I commanded you... to... relax, mooncalf." As he spoke, his right paw trickled down Samhuinn's chest and stomach, both heaving with the effort of supporting the Grimtotem's weight. A sudden rush of excitement dashed up Samhuinn's chest, causing the druid to jerk his head up and gasp loudly. It was only a moment later that he realized the shock had come from the larger male gripping Samhuinn by his bullhood, which was firmly erect and, by the feel of the bull's paw, dribbling heavily, a fact which had escaped his notice in his overwhelmed confusion.
"You see?" the Grimtotem growled into his ear, his voice rich with boastful pleasure. "Perhaps this will get you to loosen up. I told you you would enjoy it, mooncalf. I told you..." He started to smear the precum down Samhuinn's length, rubbing it on his sheath and balls. His pace quickened slightly as he growled. As he pressed Samhuinn's penis against his stomach, he felt the smaller male thrust involuntarily, a throb of lust pulsing in the chieftain's paws. His growl became a snicker.
"S... s... s-stop it," Samhuinn groaned, his tired, small voice interspersed by gasps and tiny grunts, all scarcely audible over the Grimtotem. He felt so thoroughly dominated, hardly able to move against the powerful bull's great thrusts and insistent grasp, and it was becoming rapidly more difficult to deny to himself how much pleasure that gave him. Each stab gave a new drop of precum, which the Grimtotem eagerly brushed down onto the length of his moist bullhood. He was being fully masturbated by this point, the larger male's tight grip whipping up and down Samhuinn's penis faster than the thrust of his own hips. His left hand still clutched him by the chest, his palm pressed up against the younger bull's nipple. "P... p-please... stop, I can't-"
Samhuinn had all but forgotten the eyes now watching him; his focus was allotted into hanging onto the throne, as though he would be torn away. The tauren guardians of the tent watched in silence. They would occasionally exchange glances with one another, intention known only amongst themselves. Ambershanks had exhausted himself trying to struggle free; the ropes were cutting through his fur and into his skin, which ached from the effort. He could do nothing but watch in forced silence, witnessing the bull he loved used as a plaything for another's pleasure. He was desperately afraid for his mate's safety, uncertain of what would occur after the event was over. Deep inside his heart, though, he knew that he had never seen Samhuinn engaged in sex with another being before. It was difficult to admit his own begrudged fascination; he could not look away.
Samhuinn's protests had succumbed to tiny whimpers and gasps, the effort of struggling against the Grimtotem falling prey to the exhilaration of being pierced so hard. He was humping the larger male's hand by now, his own pre-ejaculation lubricating the bull's fingers. He was no longer so tense, clutching to the throne with a resigned and pained sort of ecstasy. His surrender did not go unnoticed by the Grimtotem, whose gray eyes raised in triumph. Marking his victory, the black furred male now put all his strength behind every thrust, rocking Samhuinn's body with each pierce.
The thrill of this new dominion set off the chieftain's climax. As a laugh amplified into a roar of a moan, the Grimtotem rammed as far into Samhuinn's tailhole as he could manage, burrowing his maleness deep inside. The thrust was coupled with a burst of cum, and another, and another, as the bull shot waves of juicy semen into the younger male. Sticky droplets of white dribbled from Samhuinn's opening as he panted for air, forcing his rear back against the dominating tauren's hips as he was filled.
Samhuinn could not help himself. Coupled with his explosive orgasm, the stronger male's rapid jerking brought Samhuinn to the brink. He opened his mouth and closed his eyes, but did not protest, finally resigned to his fate. With two low gasps, nearly inaudible over the Grimtotem's groaning, the submissive tauren quietly surrendered himself to the stronger bull. He gripped the throne's arm as he felt the flush of semen rush up his bullhood and blast from the tip, a flood of white splashing the Grimtotem's paw and the smaller tauren's own belly. The black furred beast's snort of pleasure filled his partner with a shock of ecstasy as another wave of sperm echoed the first. His tongue fell from his mouth as the corners of his lips pulled up into a small, helpless smile, finally admitting his overpowering desire - and its subsequent satisfaction.
As their orgasms waned, the Grimtotem pumped into Samhuinn several more times, which the burgundy druid beared without complaint. Finally, with a long sigh of contentment, the larger male withdrew from his new slave, his lengthy penis sticky and glistening in the soft firelight. With a casual and confident air, the chieftain strode over to Samhuinn's side. He bent down and picked up his loincloth, quietly putting it back on. Only once did he look at Samhuinn; the smaller tauren was almost stiff, his eyes closed, rear still raised, gripping the throne as though he could not let go. After a long moment, the black furred bull grabbed the younger one by his scruff, tore his grip from the chair's arm, and dragged him onto his lap as he sat down upon the throne. Still naked, Samhuinn could feel through the loincloth the Grimtotem's erection sliding along his right cheek. Too exhausted to protest, Samhuinn could only fall back into the black tauren's chest, gaining warmth from the very soul that had just used him. He was also still partially erect, his penis making final throbs of life as he tilted his head back, fighting to not fall asleep.
Minutes or hours passed. Through his tired eyes, Samhuinn could see the Grimtotem guardians, still watching resolutely. He did not know if they had drawn any pleasure from what they had witnessed; he was too weary and full of conflicting thoughts to care. His glazed eyes passed over the bound sight of his mate, and he felt a little fire within. The mortified look on his mate's face left him with a sudden stab of longing and regret.
"Am... ... Am- ... Ambershanks," he whispered. After a moment, his green eyes flickered up to the Grimtotem, who did not return the look. "... What... ... a... about... him?"
The Grimtotem waited for a long moment. His hips shifted beneath Samhuinn; the red bull could feel the strength of his powerful muscles beneath him. He raised his sticky right paw and made a quick gesture, commanding, "Branshar, Yenskhan. Take him away. You know where to go."
As the two Grimtotem warriors stepped forward to haul Ambershanks off, Samhuinn looked up at the bull who had just raped him, green eyes wide with fright.
"W... w-where is he going? Y-you promised that he, that he - t-that he - w-where are you taking him? What... w-what are you going to do with him?"
The Grimtotem's cold, gray eyes looked down on Samhuinn, his smile grim. He wrapped his hand around the smaller bull's chest and held him in, not as a sign of affection or comfort but of full possession. "It does not matter, mooncalf," he whispered. Though his voice was quiet, it carried that Samhuinn should not inquire further. "You will never see him again."
Samhuinn turned back, grief struggling to break the fatigue so evident upon his face. Still bound and gagged, Ambershanks was being forced out of the tent, struggling and shouting muffled curses and craning his head to look at Samhuinn. He and his mate made one final glance of farewell before Ambershanks disappeared from sight. Samhuinn wriggled against the Grimtotem's muscular arm, but just as earlier, he was pinned. The Grimtotem smirked with amusement at Samhuinn's struggle; as the smaller bull shifted his weight around on his lap, the chieftain's penis slowly began to grow once more, pressing up firmly against his loincloth and Samhuinn's rump. The smaller druid went still once he felt what was happening. Quietly, hesitantly, he turned to look up into the black tauren's face.
"Well then," the chieftain whispered. His grip became tighter, and he leaned in to bite at Samhuinn's dark mane. "Let's see how much more you can take... mooncalf."
~Samhuinn Runetotem