Story summary by Sleth: Someone has a very special message to deliver to a certain important Tribune of the Blood Legion. When a message is that special, it requires special means of delivery, which might or might not involve a lot of hexing and mind-bending. Who says the agents need to be conscious of what they are delivering, after all? And if such tasks help promote some... closeness between officer and superior, all the better.
Full story: Windtalon let out a weary sigh from just staring at the tall dome at the center of the Black Citadel from afar. The Centurion leaned back against a wall. The sun was barely up in the morning, so he still had some time to rest and chill before he had to go don his armor for his guarding shift. The charr's legs felt restless just thinking about all the stairs he was going to have to climb to reach his guard post all the way up there near the Command Center, not to mention the six hours of just standing there, guarding the safest place any important charr could ever be at in the very core of the Black Citadel. Why did they even need guards up there anyway?
Well, in a way, it was an honor. So much so that no one below the rank of Centurion did it, but Windtalon found himself wishing for more action. More glory! If his damned warbands were more efficient, maybe he could actually achieve something. Windtalon sighed again. The warband barracks were pretty much empty since most of them had already left for their own duties. Truth be told, he was supposed to be doing some cleaning up himself, but the one thing worse than guarding duty was cleaning duty and for fuck's sake, a Centurion was above that. He'd just have someone else cover his part later under some excuse. In fact, as the Centurion spotted someone else walking in his direction, he narrowed his eyes. His excuse might have just arrived.
One of the soldiers from his warband, Windpaw, approached from the distance. The Centurion stood up straight to properly glare at his approaching underling. Windpaw wore no shirt, only a ragged pair of pants that those on cleaning duty usually wore so that it didn't matter if they got dirty, which they likely would. The charr was pretty damn big, even if not as big as Windtalon himself, sporting a good amount of muscles and making for an intimidating sight for a charr. Or, at least, that's what one would think at first glance. The damn soldier was strong, that much was true, but he was also dumber than a fucking bag of rocks, which made the charr useful for little more than the simplest tasks, the Centurion had learned. His warband was just filled with incompetence. No wonder he couldn't rise above it! And speaking of incompetence…
"WINDPAW!" the Centurion yelled with his rough voice, loud and clear as soon as the soldier got close. "I thought I told you not to come back until you had mopped the whole fifth barrack spotless. There's no way you managed to clean up all of those ale stains from last night this fast!"
As expected, Windpaw's ears flickered back when he was yelled at. The soldier's eyes trailed down to the side and he let out one of those annoyed little growls that he always did when he was frustrated with his own stupidity. It was only then, however, that Windtalon noticed that his soldier was carrying something in his paw. Some kind of doll made of straw.
"What the fuck is that?" Windtalon asked before he could speak. "You playing with cub toys while you're supposed to be on duty?"
The soldier actually looked confused for a moment as he himself brought the thing up to look at it. It was indeed a doll. It looked like a little charr made of straw. Crude. The kind of toy the gladium bastard cubs played with.
"So?" Windtalon asked with a growl, getting impatient. Oh, Windpaw was going to be doing his cleaning duty alright. His and all the latrines for the next week.
"Sorry, boss," the soldier said with his usual 'I screwed up' tone, which he used a lot. "Uhh, was supposed to deliver a message to you, I think." Saying that the grunt offered the straw charr towards the Centurion. He handled the little thing with care between his claws, Windtalon noticed and had it upright facing him. An urge to knock it out of the soldier's paw with a blow came upon him, but as he looked at the little eyes carved in the doll, he picked it up instead to take a closer look.
"You think?" Windtalon snorted. "What message? And what the hell is the purpose of this crappy thing?"
Windtalon's eyes went down to meet the straw charr's little eyes again. They were… adorable. Just two tiny little carved buttons on its little crudely shaped face. There was something about those little eyes that intrigued him. His paw shifted, holding the small doll with a little more care in front of his muzzle so that he could see the rest of it. It barely had a body, but it had four little limbs sticking out of it and even a straw little tail to accompany it…
Without any words, Windtalon felt his shirt being grabbed by the soldier, and then he was tugged to stumble forward and follow.
"What the- What are you..." he started asking, but as he moved, what Windtalon actually tried to do was make sure he got to keep looking at the little straw charr he held in front of him. He wanted to look at it, to stare at it, and not staring at it felt wrong! Soon his back was pressed against a wall. The morning sun didn't quite reach them as he had been pulled into the small alley between two of the barracks, yet the open courtyard still stood but a few feet of them. With his back against the metal wall, Windtalon relaxed a little bit. It felt easier to just hold up the straw doll and stare at its cute little eyes. He smiled a little, finding his thoughts a little slow.
Windpaw didn't say anything. He just grumbled on occasion. From the corner of his eyes, the Centurion could see him moving to kick his pants off, which meant the soldier was left entirely naked. Odd. Yet Windtalon's main focus was still the little doll he held at the center of his vision. It seemed to just… emanate an aura of cuteness. Even odder was when the soldier, still grumbling, got down to his knees in front of the Centurion and started fiddling with his pants.
With impatience, Windpaw opened the laces and just pulled, opening the front of the Centurion's pants and, as consequence, bringing his dick and balls out on the open. A little hint of wrongness hit Windtalon's mind there. What was his soldier doing? He tried to think about it, but his thoughts had trouble forming coherently in his mind. For a split second, he managed to divert his eyes down to Windpaw to see him there, on his knees in front of his exposed cock and balls, yet his expression was still neutral and solemn. It was as if he was doing some routine duty rather than staring at his Centurion's dick. Windpaw was one of those charr that, if you someone so much as implied that his muzzle was to get close to another male's dick, he'd punch them. Then why was he…?
An overwhelming urge to look at the doll overcame Windtalon. His eyes darted back to the doll and he found relief in staring at its little eyes again. They were static, but at the same time, it was as if they moved to meet his own, trapping his gaze with its adorable little stare. By then, however, Windtalon was pretty sure at the back of his mind that something was wrong. He just couldn't put his finger on it, but a feeling of urgency started to overcome him. He needed to figure out what was wrong. Something was very wrong. He needed to-
"Hngh!" Windtalon let out a small groan when, suddenly, a tongue dragged itself over his balls. He managed a downward glance again for a split second to see his soldier, still with the same neutral, almost bored expression, starting to lap at his hanging balls without an ounce of hesitation. That muzzle started working him up and the pleasure he felt made Windtalon lose focus on what he was trying to think. His eyes just reflexively went back to the doll he himself held up right in front of his muzzle. Then, while the feeling of wrongness remained at the back of his mind… his member was quick to start hardening. The pleasure clouded his head, making his slow thoughts shift back and forth. It got even worse when Windpaw got his cock into his maw to start suckling at it. Then, Windtalon simply let out a low moan.
The soldier beneath him just grunted and grumbled here and there as he took the Centurion's cock into his muzzle. He pursed his lips, suckling at it, caressing the head with his tongue, and in response, Windtalon's member continued to harden to reach full mast inside that warm muzzle in record time.
"A- aahhh..." the Centurion tried to say. He opened his maw to speak, but he couldn't form the thoughts that would become his words. Instead, his maw was just left open, gaping as his eyes remained fixed on the little doll. Windpaw retreated from his cock, keeping only half of it with his muzzle, suckling on it some more, then advancing again to take in more. The soldier worked on his superior's cock in a methodical way, just idly suckling and swirling his tongue around to provide pleasure. Every now and then Windtalon did feel the tiny prickle of his teeth on his soft skin, which indicated that the soldier might indeed not have any experience in doing what he was doing, but a warm muzzle was still a warm muzzle and the Centurion's cock throbbed in response to its ministrations all the same.
The sense of wrongness faded from Windtalon's mind little by little, just as everything else did. The charr just held the doll there and stared at it. Pleasure overcame his body and, any semblance of a thought that could still form in his occupied mind was turned towards it and it alone. Little strands of drool started dropping down the side of Windtalon's open maw, some of those droplets falling in fact over Windpaw's sucking muzzle, forehead or horns, but the soldier all but ignored that to focus on his own job.
With each minute that passed, Windtalon's thoughts quelled more and more. All he could think about was pleasure. A dumb smile opened in the Centurion's maw. The straw charr's form was imprinted in his mind but he could not get enough of its little eyes. Beneath him, his soldier continued to work on his cock, bobbing up and down on it and using some lazy tongue work. With nothing but pleasure in mind, however, it wasn't long until the drooling Centurion let out a few soft moans. That tongue grinding against the underside of his cock, that muzzle enveloping it, the sucking…
"Hnn… hnnnghhgn..." Windtalon moaned with more drool running down the side of his muzzle. His legs trembled a little to continue sustaining his weight as he stood there when his cock started pulsing within the other charr's maw. The first stronger jet of seed into the grunt's maw made Windpaw beneath him grunt with what sounded like annoyance, but the other charr didn't stop sucking his cock even as it continued to pulse, shooting jet after jet of spunk into his underling's tending maw.
As for Windtalon, his body felt nothing but the bliss of orgasm. The overwhelming pleasure felt like a true release. With it, the last semblance of wrongness faded away as well, with the world becoming simple. Everything felt as right as the incredible pleasure he felt for those blissful seconds. When it was over and his cock was spurting the final little dribbles of seed still over Windpaw's tongue, Windtalon just leaned his back against the alley wall and sighed. Even the drool that continued to run down his muzzle didn't matter. His smile widened and he continued to stare at the doll with mind empty of any thoughts even when Windpaw retreated, leaving his cock, coated with saliva, to pulse out in the open in the afterglow of his incredible orgasm.
The naked soldier stood back up. From the corner of Windtalon's eyes, he could see that he was also fully erect. The sight of another male's erect cock would have put him off once, but not in the state he was in. He barely registered the fact, just as he pretty much ignored how the soldier started pulling his shirt up.
"As if I didn't have enough to do, still gotta deliver this stupid message..." Windpaw said. Or perhaps it was more of a mutter. It didn't feel like he was talking to the Centurion even though they were right there in front of each other.
The soldier still acted as if everything was normal despite the fact that he was now lifting his superior's arms up to pull his shirt out. Windtalon didn't react. He just stood there, letting the grunt do as he pleased while idly tried to follow the eyes of the straw charr still in his hands as they moved. A breeze coming from the end of the alley, so very close to them, went by Windtalon's hanging balls when the soldier pulled his pants and loincloth out. With a tug, the Centurion was made to step out of them, leaving him completely and entirely naked in the alley just like Windpaw was.
"Fucking Centurion always on my case, giving me the worst jobs, working me to the damn bone..." the soldier grumbled again. His paw came up to grab one of the idle Centurion's horns and then, this time, Windtalon did grunt as he was pulled down and forced to be on his knees. He held on tight to the straw charr in his paw, but the hold on his horn kept his head facing up and straight. His blank expression and drooling muzzle did not react at all to the fact that the soldier's hard cock was now pretty much touching his nose. The smell of the soldier's musk went through his nostrils, but though he felt it, no thoughts sprouted from the sensation of smelling his underling's malehood, nor from how it grazed against his muzzle and wet it with precum when Windpaw readjusted his footing in front of the kneeling Centurion.
"At least I get to blow off a little fucking steam..."
The soldier's other hand came to grab his second horn. He used them to adjust the angle of the Centurion's muzzle in a very disrespectful way that would leave any charr fuming, yet Windtalon still barely noticed it. What he did notice, however, was the taste of his soldier's cock when Windpaw shoved his hips forward without ceremony or even a warning. There was only a grunt followed by a huff of pleasure as the low-level charr thrust his cock into his superior's waiting maw.
"Hnghff-" Windtalon gagged. The soldier simply shoved his barbed, hard length all the way into his maw, pulled back and did it again. He started a rough fucking motion that had Windtalon, even dazed as he was, trying to lightly retreat from the other charr, but the hold on his horns kept his head steady for the other male to fuck.
"Mmfh. Fucking Centurion..." the soldier grumbled while he kept fucking, again as if he wasn't even there in the first place. "'Clean that paw, Windpaw. Mop that up. I'm gonna make you lick the dirt with your tongue if you don't work faster'," the soldier continued to grumble, this time with a voice of mockery that was not completely unlike the Centurion's own commanding tone. Windtalon still didn't register the words, all he knew was that the hold on his horns tightened and the fucking against his maw sped up, growing angrier.
It was the first salty taste of precum coming against his tongue that made Windtalon's eyes grow a little wider. A semblance of a thought formed in his head when he tasted. He registered the taste but continued struggling to even breathe properly through the rough maw-fucking he was receiving. After he tasted the first bit, more was soon to come. Those barbs felt rough against his tongue, the taste of cock overwhelming, but the salty precum came to assault his palate every now and then and, each time it did, he grew a little more conscious again. His paw still gripped the straw charr at his side hard, but he started to forget about the doll and remember… other things. Even if his environment in general still didn't make sense. He also registered that he was hard and leaking precum again for some reason, his erection just jutting there between his legs, but though it throbbed with a little bit of pleasure, he could not think hard enough to even consider reaching out for it.
Windpaw above him continued to grunt. He fucked his maw hard and fast. When the Centurion was just starting to be able to think again, the corner of his eyes registered someone else outside the alley looking towards the inside. A female charr looking at them and sneering.
"Fucking Bloods. Spend so much time waving their dicks around thinking they're the best… it's only natural that they get on their knees to take each other's dicks as well. Tsc." She shook her head, let out a laugh and continued on her way.
Windpaw above him was so busy fucking that he didn't even acknowledge her presence. Windtalon, on his knees and taking his soldier's cock, did, but as soon as she was gone he forgot it again. Thinking was still too hard.
"Fucking… Centurion… fucking… cleaning… fucking… message!" Windpaw thrust his hips forward with each word, growling with frustration, gripping his horns and simply using the Centurion's maw and tongue for his pleasure. After a little while, his grumbling complaints stopped and instead his grunting grew more frequent. He sped up the fucking even more, growling like a true charr as he did until finally, he pulled on Windtalon's horns to shove his face right against his crotch.
With the Centurion's nose hard-pressed against his soldier's pubic fur and Windpaw's cock so deep into his maw that it touched his throat, a torrent of spunk suddenly flooded the Centurion's muzzle. The cum was like a spark of something as he tasted it against his tongue. Windtalon's eyes went wide and it was as if his brain was some Iron Legion contraption getting jump-started by electric cables. The taste flooded his maw, drooling down the sides, but he also instinctively swallowed one mouthful of charr cum, then another, then another still, while his mind raced with a million delayed thoughts he couldn't quite grasp. His eyes went wide and the sensations of the world slowly started returning to him, including those of the musk of his soldier that he felt first-hand.
Windpaw, on the other hand, simply moaned out loud as he rode out his orgasm. It lasted for a few seconds and the hold on Windtalon's horns slowly started to give. When the soldier's cock was spurting the last weak shots of cum, Windpaw retreated, which ended up with a weak shot of cum landing on Windtalon's nose just before the soldier fell back sitting against the ground. Both charr looked at each other and, this time, they both had the same confused, blank and drooly gaze. Except that the Centurion still had cum drooling down his muzzle alongside his saliva too.
"Repeat this message to your Centurion," Windpaw said in a perfectly clear tone, as if it wasn't him speaking, but rather someone else. "Behind the seventh barrack, there is a marked wooden crate. Inside the crate, there is a special box. Centurion Windtalon is to go and get this box, then take it to Tribune Rytlock's office before his guarding shift and leave the contents on his table."
The message resonated inside Windtalon's mind. It was as if it echoed. Windpaw only said it once with that weird voice, but it ingrained itself into his mind.
"I will count to three. You will get dressed, the hex will end and you will not remember this," Windpaw said again in that strange voice. "One. Two. Three."
The Centurion blinked. Still with an empty stare and drooling, he mindlessly gathered his clothes, now dusty after being thrown to the ground, and he put them on. Windtalon's mind was too empty to notice that he had put his pants on backward, but it didn't matter. The message continued to echo around his mind for a little while longer, but then it started to… fade. The whole world started to fade and he closed his eyes for a moment. It felt like a fleeting dream that he could grasp at first, then he only parts of it, and then it escaped him. It was a distant memory, there but out of his reach, and it mattered less and less until he opened his eyes and woke up to reality, which was what really mattered.
Windtalon blinked a few times. He was standing in the alley near his resting spot. The charr brought a hand up to his maw that felt a little sore and frowned when he found little tidbits of drool around the fur there. Then, he looked up to see none other than fucking Windpaw, one of his lowest soldiers, standing in front of him with a dreamy look in his face.
"WINDPAW!" the Centurion yelled. That seemed to snap the lazy charr from whatever stupid lazy kind of sleep he was in.
"H-huh?" the soldier looked at him and lowered his ears. Pathetic.
"Didn't I tell you to mop up the fifth barrack?! What the hell are you doing here slacking?" The Centurion made a point to growl at the soldier, who had a look of stupid confusion on his face.
"I- sorry Boss, I was mopping, but then I… I'm not sure h-"
"What? You're too stupid to find an excuse to cover up your slacking? Is that it? That is IT, soldier. After you're done with the fifth barrack you're going to be cleaning up the whole of the second too!"
The soldier's shoulders slumped. "What? But Boss-"
"No buts! Straighten your fucking back!"
The shirtless charr stood at attention right away.
"Back to your fucking post! And if I catch you slacking again today you'll join Windfang on latrine duty this week!"
The soldier did not dare complain, he simply nodded and saluted.
"Go!" Windpaw said, pointing towards the courtyard, and the useless soldier scrambled to go do his work.
"Fucking moron..." Windtalon said, paw coming up to rub his maw again. Why was it so sore? He trailed his tongue around the inside of his muzzle and winced. There was a lingering bad, salty taste there that he couldn't quite place. Must've been something bad he ate during breakfast.
As the Centurion moved out to the courtyard as well, he also realized that he had an uncomfortable erection for some reason. His paw went down to adjust it within his pants only to realize he had put them on backward that morning too.
"Fucking great," he grumbled. He wanted to go back to the barracks to set them right, but he didn't have time. Without thinking, the Centurion set off to do his duty.
He whistled to himself as he reached the 7th barracks, then reached into the crate with a little straw charr drawn on it to grab the box without even thinking about it. In his head, he was wondering what he'd have for lunch as he made his way through the familiar paths of the Black Citadel, then up the main building where he'd be on patrol later that day. Windtalon nodded at a few of the Blood Legion guards he knew that were on duty and spat towards an Ash Legion scholar in a way that almost reached the runt's footpaw, which had him scrambling and dropping what he was carrying. Funny stuff.
The Blood Legion guards around Tribune Rytlock's office were sitting nearby given that it was too early in the morning for the Tribune to be there. Windtalon knew them both well, so neither of them paid any attention when he stepped into the office for a moment. Inside, he opened the box he had been carrying and, for a moment, his brain almost tried to register that it was weird that he was leaving a weird skritt plush toy on his Tribune's table, but he just shrugged, picked up the empty box, and left.
"Forgot your armor today, Windtalon?" one of the Blood Centurion's said sneering towards him outside. "Or are you gonna take the day off to play dolls with the cubs?"
The Centurion blinked for a moment, wondering what he meant. He followed their eyes towards his paw and only then did he realize he was carrying… some kind of doll. A poorly made little charr made of straw. He raised an eyebrow towards it, looking at its little eyes… and just scoffed.
"It's just trash," the Centurion said, throwing it away. The other charr laughed, but he turned away to leave. He didn't even quite know why he had made his way all the way there so early. Not that it mattered anyway. Maybe he could still make time for a second breakfast to wash that weird taste out of his maw, or perhaps even time to sneak back into his room and jerk off before his shift since he was feeling horny.
It was just another boring day as a Centurion in the Black Citadel, after all.
>> #396360
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Story summary by Sleth: Someone has a very special message to deliver to a certain important Tribune of the Blood Legion. When a message is that special, it requires special means of delivery, which might or might not involve a lot of hexing and mind-bending. Who says the agents need to be conscious of what they are delivering, after all? And if such tasks help promote some... closeness between officer and superior, all the better.
Full story: Windtalon let out a weary sigh from just staring at the tall dome at the center of the Black Citadel from afar. The Centurion leaned back against a wall. The sun was barely up in the morning, so he still had some time to rest and chill before he had to go don his armor for his guarding shift. The charr's legs felt restless just thinking about all the stairs he was going to have to climb to reach his guard post all the way up there near the Command Center, not to mention the six hours of just standing there, guarding the safest place any important charr could ever be at in the very core of the Black Citadel. Why did they even need guards up there anyway?
Well, in a way, it was an honor. So much so that no one below the rank of Centurion did it, but Windtalon found himself wishing for more action. More glory! If his damned warbands were more efficient, maybe he could actually achieve something. Windtalon sighed again. The warband barracks were pretty much empty since most of them had already left for their own duties. Truth be told, he was supposed to be doing some cleaning up himself, but the one thing worse than guarding duty was cleaning duty and for fuck's sake, a Centurion was above that. He'd just have someone else cover his part later under some excuse. In fact, as the Centurion spotted someone else walking in his direction, he narrowed his eyes. His excuse might have just arrived.
One of the soldiers from his warband, Windpaw, approached from the distance. The Centurion stood up straight to properly glare at his approaching underling. Windpaw wore no shirt, only a ragged pair of pants that those on cleaning duty usually wore so that it didn't matter if they got dirty, which they likely would. The charr was pretty damn big, even if not as big as Windtalon himself, sporting a good amount of muscles and making for an intimidating sight for a charr. Or, at least, that's what one would think at first glance. The damn soldier was strong, that much was true, but he was also dumber than a fucking bag of rocks, which made the charr useful for little more than the simplest tasks, the Centurion had learned. His warband was just filled with incompetence. No wonder he couldn't rise above it! And speaking of incompetence…
"WINDPAW!" the Centurion yelled with his rough voice, loud and clear as soon as the soldier got close. "I thought I told you not to come back until you had mopped the whole fifth barrack spotless. There's no way you managed to clean up all of those ale stains from last night this fast!"
As expected, Windpaw's ears flickered back when he was yelled at. The soldier's eyes trailed down to the side and he let out one of those annoyed little growls that he always did when he was frustrated with his own stupidity. It was only then, however, that Windtalon noticed that his soldier was carrying something in his paw. Some kind of doll made of straw.
"What the fuck is that?" Windtalon asked before he could speak. "You playing with cub toys while you're supposed to be on duty?"
The soldier actually looked confused for a moment as he himself brought the thing up to look at it. It was indeed a doll. It looked like a little charr made of straw. Crude. The kind of toy the gladium bastard cubs played with.
"So?" Windtalon asked with a growl, getting impatient. Oh, Windpaw was going to be doing his cleaning duty alright. His and all the latrines for the next week.
"Sorry, boss," the soldier said with his usual 'I screwed up' tone, which he used a lot. "Uhh, was supposed to deliver a message to you, I think." Saying that the grunt offered the straw charr towards the Centurion. He handled the little thing with care between his claws, Windtalon noticed and had it upright facing him. An urge to knock it out of the soldier's paw with a blow came upon him, but as he looked at the little eyes carved in the doll, he picked it up instead to take a closer look.
"You think?" Windtalon snorted. "What message? And what the hell is the purpose of this crappy thing?"
Windtalon's eyes went down to meet the straw charr's little eyes again. They were… adorable. Just two tiny little carved buttons on its little crudely shaped face. There was something about those little eyes that intrigued him. His paw shifted, holding the small doll with a little more care in front of his muzzle so that he could see the rest of it. It barely had a body, but it had four little limbs sticking out of it and even a straw little tail to accompany it…
Without any words, Windtalon felt his shirt being grabbed by the soldier, and then he was tugged to stumble forward and follow.
"What the- What are you..." he started asking, but as he moved, what Windtalon actually tried to do was make sure he got to keep looking at the little straw charr he held in front of him. He wanted to look at it, to stare at it, and not staring at it felt wrong! Soon his back was pressed against a wall. The morning sun didn't quite reach them as he had been pulled into the small alley between two of the barracks, yet the open courtyard still stood but a few feet of them. With his back against the metal wall, Windtalon relaxed a little bit. It felt easier to just hold up the straw doll and stare at its cute little eyes. He smiled a little, finding his thoughts a little slow.
Windpaw didn't say anything. He just grumbled on occasion. From the corner of his eyes, the Centurion could see him moving to kick his pants off, which meant the soldier was left entirely naked. Odd. Yet Windtalon's main focus was still the little doll he held at the center of his vision. It seemed to just… emanate an aura of cuteness. Even odder was when the soldier, still grumbling, got down to his knees in front of the Centurion and started fiddling with his pants.
With impatience, Windpaw opened the laces and just pulled, opening the front of the Centurion's pants and, as consequence, bringing his dick and balls out on the open. A little hint of wrongness hit Windtalon's mind there. What was his soldier doing? He tried to think about it, but his thoughts had trouble forming coherently in his mind. For a split second, he managed to divert his eyes down to Windpaw to see him there, on his knees in front of his exposed cock and balls, yet his expression was still neutral and solemn. It was as if he was doing some routine duty rather than staring at his Centurion's dick. Windpaw was one of those charr that, if you someone so much as implied that his muzzle was to get close to another male's dick, he'd punch them. Then why was he…?
An overwhelming urge to look at the doll overcame Windtalon. His eyes darted back to the doll and he found relief in staring at its little eyes again. They were static, but at the same time, it was as if they moved to meet his own, trapping his gaze with its adorable little stare. By then, however, Windtalon was pretty sure at the back of his mind that something was wrong. He just couldn't put his finger on it, but a feeling of urgency started to overcome him. He needed to figure out what was wrong. Something was very wrong. He needed to-
"Hngh!" Windtalon let out a small groan when, suddenly, a tongue dragged itself over his balls. He managed a downward glance again for a split second to see his soldier, still with the same neutral, almost bored expression, starting to lap at his hanging balls without an ounce of hesitation. That muzzle started working him up and the pleasure he felt made Windtalon lose focus on what he was trying to think. His eyes just reflexively went back to the doll he himself held up right in front of his muzzle. Then, while the feeling of wrongness remained at the back of his mind… his member was quick to start hardening. The pleasure clouded his head, making his slow thoughts shift back and forth. It got even worse when Windpaw got his cock into his maw to start suckling at it. Then, Windtalon simply let out a low moan.
The soldier beneath him just grunted and grumbled here and there as he took the Centurion's cock into his muzzle. He pursed his lips, suckling at it, caressing the head with his tongue, and in response, Windtalon's member continued to harden to reach full mast inside that warm muzzle in record time.
"A- aahhh..." the Centurion tried to say. He opened his maw to speak, but he couldn't form the thoughts that would become his words. Instead, his maw was just left open, gaping as his eyes remained fixed on the little doll. Windpaw retreated from his cock, keeping only half of it with his muzzle, suckling on it some more, then advancing again to take in more. The soldier worked on his superior's cock in a methodical way, just idly suckling and swirling his tongue around to provide pleasure. Every now and then Windtalon did feel the tiny prickle of his teeth on his soft skin, which indicated that the soldier might indeed not have any experience in doing what he was doing, but a warm muzzle was still a warm muzzle and the Centurion's cock throbbed in response to its ministrations all the same.
The sense of wrongness faded from Windtalon's mind little by little, just as everything else did. The charr just held the doll there and stared at it. Pleasure overcame his body and, any semblance of a thought that could still form in his occupied mind was turned towards it and it alone. Little strands of drool started dropping down the side of Windtalon's open maw, some of those droplets falling in fact over Windpaw's sucking muzzle, forehead or horns, but the soldier all but ignored that to focus on his own job.
With each minute that passed, Windtalon's thoughts quelled more and more. All he could think about was pleasure. A dumb smile opened in the Centurion's maw. The straw charr's form was imprinted in his mind but he could not get enough of its little eyes. Beneath him, his soldier continued to work on his cock, bobbing up and down on it and using some lazy tongue work. With nothing but pleasure in mind, however, it wasn't long until the drooling Centurion let out a few soft moans. That tongue grinding against the underside of his cock, that muzzle enveloping it, the sucking…
"Hnn… hnnnghhgn..." Windtalon moaned with more drool running down the side of his muzzle. His legs trembled a little to continue sustaining his weight as he stood there when his cock started pulsing within the other charr's maw. The first stronger jet of seed into the grunt's maw made Windpaw beneath him grunt with what sounded like annoyance, but the other charr didn't stop sucking his cock even as it continued to pulse, shooting jet after jet of spunk into his underling's tending maw.
As for Windtalon, his body felt nothing but the bliss of orgasm. The overwhelming pleasure felt like a true release. With it, the last semblance of wrongness faded away as well, with the world becoming simple. Everything felt as right as the incredible pleasure he felt for those blissful seconds. When it was over and his cock was spurting the final little dribbles of seed still over Windpaw's tongue, Windtalon just leaned his back against the alley wall and sighed. Even the drool that continued to run down his muzzle didn't matter. His smile widened and he continued to stare at the doll with mind empty of any thoughts even when Windpaw retreated, leaving his cock, coated with saliva, to pulse out in the open in the afterglow of his incredible orgasm.
The naked soldier stood back up. From the corner of Windtalon's eyes, he could see that he was also fully erect. The sight of another male's erect cock would have put him off once, but not in the state he was in. He barely registered the fact, just as he pretty much ignored how the soldier started pulling his shirt up.
"As if I didn't have enough to do, still gotta deliver this stupid message..." Windpaw said. Or perhaps it was more of a mutter. It didn't feel like he was talking to the Centurion even though they were right there in front of each other.
The soldier still acted as if everything was normal despite the fact that he was now lifting his superior's arms up to pull his shirt out. Windtalon didn't react. He just stood there, letting the grunt do as he pleased while idly tried to follow the eyes of the straw charr still in his hands as they moved. A breeze coming from the end of the alley, so very close to them, went by Windtalon's hanging balls when the soldier pulled his pants and loincloth out. With a tug, the Centurion was made to step out of them, leaving him completely and entirely naked in the alley just like Windpaw was.
"Fucking Centurion always on my case, giving me the worst jobs, working me to the damn bone..." the soldier grumbled again. His paw came up to grab one of the idle Centurion's horns and then, this time, Windtalon did grunt as he was pulled down and forced to be on his knees. He held on tight to the straw charr in his paw, but the hold on his horn kept his head facing up and straight. His blank expression and drooling muzzle did not react at all to the fact that the soldier's hard cock was now pretty much touching his nose. The smell of the soldier's musk went through his nostrils, but though he felt it, no thoughts sprouted from the sensation of smelling his underling's malehood, nor from how it grazed against his muzzle and wet it with precum when Windpaw readjusted his footing in front of the kneeling Centurion.
"At least I get to blow off a little fucking steam..."
The soldier's other hand came to grab his second horn. He used them to adjust the angle of the Centurion's muzzle in a very disrespectful way that would leave any charr fuming, yet Windtalon still barely noticed it. What he did notice, however, was the taste of his soldier's cock when Windpaw shoved his hips forward without ceremony or even a warning. There was only a grunt followed by a huff of pleasure as the low-level charr thrust his cock into his superior's waiting maw.
"Hnghff-" Windtalon gagged. The soldier simply shoved his barbed, hard length all the way into his maw, pulled back and did it again. He started a rough fucking motion that had Windtalon, even dazed as he was, trying to lightly retreat from the other charr, but the hold on his horns kept his head steady for the other male to fuck.
"Mmfh. Fucking Centurion..." the soldier grumbled while he kept fucking, again as if he wasn't even there in the first place. "'Clean that paw, Windpaw. Mop that up. I'm gonna make you lick the dirt with your tongue if you don't work faster'," the soldier continued to grumble, this time with a voice of mockery that was not completely unlike the Centurion's own commanding tone. Windtalon still didn't register the words, all he knew was that the hold on his horns tightened and the fucking against his maw sped up, growing angrier.
It was the first salty taste of precum coming against his tongue that made Windtalon's eyes grow a little wider. A semblance of a thought formed in his head when he tasted. He registered the taste but continued struggling to even breathe properly through the rough maw-fucking he was receiving. After he tasted the first bit, more was soon to come. Those barbs felt rough against his tongue, the taste of cock overwhelming, but the salty precum came to assault his palate every now and then and, each time it did, he grew a little more conscious again. His paw still gripped the straw charr at his side hard, but he started to forget about the doll and remember… other things. Even if his environment in general still didn't make sense. He also registered that he was hard and leaking precum again for some reason, his erection just jutting there between his legs, but though it throbbed with a little bit of pleasure, he could not think hard enough to even consider reaching out for it.
Windpaw above him continued to grunt. He fucked his maw hard and fast. When the Centurion was just starting to be able to think again, the corner of his eyes registered someone else outside the alley looking towards the inside. A female charr looking at them and sneering.
"Fucking Bloods. Spend so much time waving their dicks around thinking they're the best… it's only natural that they get on their knees to take each other's dicks as well. Tsc." She shook her head, let out a laugh and continued on her way.
Windpaw above him was so busy fucking that he didn't even acknowledge her presence. Windtalon, on his knees and taking his soldier's cock, did, but as soon as she was gone he forgot it again. Thinking was still too hard.
"Fucking… Centurion… fucking… cleaning… fucking… message!" Windpaw thrust his hips forward with each word, growling with frustration, gripping his horns and simply using the Centurion's maw and tongue for his pleasure. After a little while, his grumbling complaints stopped and instead his grunting grew more frequent. He sped up the fucking even more, growling like a true charr as he did until finally, he pulled on Windtalon's horns to shove his face right against his crotch.
With the Centurion's nose hard-pressed against his soldier's pubic fur and Windpaw's cock so deep into his maw that it touched his throat, a torrent of spunk suddenly flooded the Centurion's muzzle. The cum was like a spark of something as he tasted it against his tongue. Windtalon's eyes went wide and it was as if his brain was some Iron Legion contraption getting jump-started by electric cables. The taste flooded his maw, drooling down the sides, but he also instinctively swallowed one mouthful of charr cum, then another, then another still, while his mind raced with a million delayed thoughts he couldn't quite grasp. His eyes went wide and the sensations of the world slowly started returning to him, including those of the musk of his soldier that he felt first-hand.
Windpaw, on the other hand, simply moaned out loud as he rode out his orgasm. It lasted for a few seconds and the hold on Windtalon's horns slowly started to give. When the soldier's cock was spurting the last weak shots of cum, Windpaw retreated, which ended up with a weak shot of cum landing on Windtalon's nose just before the soldier fell back sitting against the ground. Both charr looked at each other and, this time, they both had the same confused, blank and drooly gaze. Except that the Centurion still had cum drooling down his muzzle alongside his saliva too.
"Repeat this message to your Centurion," Windpaw said in a perfectly clear tone, as if it wasn't him speaking, but rather someone else. "Behind the seventh barrack, there is a marked wooden crate. Inside the crate, there is a special box. Centurion Windtalon is to go and get this box, then take it to Tribune Rytlock's office before his guarding shift and leave the contents on his table."
The message resonated inside Windtalon's mind. It was as if it echoed. Windpaw only said it once with that weird voice, but it ingrained itself into his mind.
"I will count to three. You will get dressed, the hex will end and you will not remember this," Windpaw said again in that strange voice. "One. Two. Three."
The Centurion blinked. Still with an empty stare and drooling, he mindlessly gathered his clothes, now dusty after being thrown to the ground, and he put them on. Windtalon's mind was too empty to notice that he had put his pants on backward, but it didn't matter. The message continued to echo around his mind for a little while longer, but then it started to… fade. The whole world started to fade and he closed his eyes for a moment. It felt like a fleeting dream that he could grasp at first, then he only parts of it, and then it escaped him. It was a distant memory, there but out of his reach, and it mattered less and less until he opened his eyes and woke up to reality, which was what really mattered.
Windtalon blinked a few times. He was standing in the alley near his resting spot. The charr brought a hand up to his maw that felt a little sore and frowned when he found little tidbits of drool around the fur there. Then, he looked up to see none other than fucking Windpaw, one of his lowest soldiers, standing in front of him with a dreamy look in his face.
"WINDPAW!" the Centurion yelled. That seemed to snap the lazy charr from whatever stupid lazy kind of sleep he was in.
"H-huh?" the soldier looked at him and lowered his ears. Pathetic.
"Didn't I tell you to mop up the fifth barrack?! What the hell are you doing here slacking?" The Centurion made a point to growl at the soldier, who had a look of stupid confusion on his face.
"I- sorry Boss, I was mopping, but then I… I'm not sure h-"
"What? You're too stupid to find an excuse to cover up your slacking? Is that it? That is IT, soldier. After you're done with the fifth barrack you're going to be cleaning up the whole of the second too!"
The soldier's shoulders slumped. "What? But Boss-"
"No buts! Straighten your fucking back!"
The shirtless charr stood at attention right away.
"Back to your fucking post! And if I catch you slacking again today you'll join Windfang on latrine duty this week!"
The soldier did not dare complain, he simply nodded and saluted.
"Go!" Windpaw said, pointing towards the courtyard, and the useless soldier scrambled to go do his work.
"Fucking moron..." Windtalon said, paw coming up to rub his maw again. Why was it so sore? He trailed his tongue around the inside of his muzzle and winced. There was a lingering bad, salty taste there that he couldn't quite place. Must've been something bad he ate during breakfast.
As the Centurion moved out to the courtyard as well, he also realized that he had an uncomfortable erection for some reason. His paw went down to adjust it within his pants only to realize he had put them on backward that morning too.
"Fucking great," he grumbled. He wanted to go back to the barracks to set them right, but he didn't have time. Without thinking, the Centurion set off to do his duty.
He whistled to himself as he reached the 7th barracks, then reached into the crate with a little straw charr drawn on it to grab the box without even thinking about it. In his head, he was wondering what he'd have for lunch as he made his way through the familiar paths of the Black Citadel, then up the main building where he'd be on patrol later that day. Windtalon nodded at a few of the Blood Legion guards he knew that were on duty and spat towards an Ash Legion scholar in a way that almost reached the runt's footpaw, which had him scrambling and dropping what he was carrying. Funny stuff.
The Blood Legion guards around Tribune Rytlock's office were sitting nearby given that it was too early in the morning for the Tribune to be there. Windtalon knew them both well, so neither of them paid any attention when he stepped into the office for a moment. Inside, he opened the box he had been carrying and, for a moment, his brain almost tried to register that it was weird that he was leaving a weird skritt plush toy on his Tribune's table, but he just shrugged, picked up the empty box, and left.
"Forgot your armor today, Windtalon?" one of the Blood Centurion's said sneering towards him outside. "Or are you gonna take the day off to play dolls with the cubs?"
The Centurion blinked for a moment, wondering what he meant. He followed their eyes towards his paw and only then did he realize he was carrying… some kind of doll. A poorly made little charr made of straw. He raised an eyebrow towards it, looking at its little eyes… and just scoffed.
"It's just trash," the Centurion said, throwing it away. The other charr laughed, but he turned away to leave. He didn't even quite know why he had made his way all the way there so early. Not that it mattered anyway. Maybe he could still make time for a second breakfast to wash that weird taste out of his maw, or perhaps even time to sneak back into his room and jerk off before his shift since he was feeling horny.
It was just another boring day as a Centurion in the Black Citadel, after all.