[b][u][center]Soulbound Wagers
Chapter 7
For Damiekinz
By Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]








His blue-balled frustration continued for days, then weeks. As Asmund spent the daylight hours in the middle of the throne room, naked upon the pillowed litter and lounging for the amusement of the court and the nights either alone or watching Targir fucking another of his former lovers, the polar bear sunk deeper and deeper into a heated hell that he had never imagined. 

His head swam as he laid among the pillows, listening to the whispers and calls of the petitioners that came before Targir – a name that he barely managed to think without the word ‘Master’ in front of it – and fought back the urge to spread his legs, to show off his cock, to let his balls hang low and show off how heavy they were. He barely restrained the need to roll onto all fours and shake his ass for the people that came to visit the great silver wolf, knowing that it would happen eventually, but until then – 

His cock throbbed, the ring at the base humming at the unspoken command of the Overthane. Asmund bit off the whimper that came up his throat, but he couldn’t stop himself from grimacing from the pure pleasure that rippled through his dick. The dark shaft oozed pre-cum down the front, running in a silvery stream down to his balls, where it clung for a few seconds before rolling off of it and onto the bed below. 

Pre-cum. 

Musk. 

Sweat. 

The smells clung to him throughout the day like a powerful cologne, marking him, and at night, it was overcome by the scent of Targir and whatever male or female the wolf chose to bring to bed and knot-fuck at his side. 

Anja. Haldor. They had only been the first, but there had been so many more. Bears and seals and caribou and elk had graced the bed, and each one had moaned for the powerful Overthane, showing off Targir’s prowess and reminding Asmund that he was owed [i]nothing[/i] in comparison. 

Throb. 

Throb. 

Throb. 

Three hums up and down his cock. The polar bear chuffed through clenched teeth, slowly rolling over onto his stomach and pressing his ankles together. He started with his toes pointed toward the other end of the room, then raised his legs so that they pointed toward the ceiling. After shuffling about a bit, he managed to get his feet situated so that the padded undersides were a little more visible, and – 

“Mmmph…”

There it was. One of Targir’s petitioners had come forward and taken hold of his ankles, and…and now, there was a cock sliding between his arches. Thrust, thrust, thrust, the shaft already damp, but the oils that Asmund was forced to keep putting on his feet made it that much slicker. The soft grunts of pleasure that were just barely audible still filled his ears, and he could still hear the courtiers chuckling at him. 

“Fat-assed bear.”

“Surprised that he’s still got all that muscle, considering all he does is fuck now.”

“Guess all those footjobs are good for the legs.”

“Think the Overthane will rent out his ass sometime?”

“Heh, I bet you that he’d cum in seconds from a good dick under his tail.”

If they only knew how much the broken parts of him wished that were the case. Targir had ordered Connor to fuck him again, and again. Not constantly, not every day, but always coming back every three or four days, always with that flared dick going right down his ass and plunging into his depths. The oil that had been forced on him continued to train him, slicking him up, encouraging his ass to get more and more sensitive, more and more focused on anything that slid inside. 

But he had never been allowed to cum. That climax, that relief, still eluded him, and he didn’t know when – or ever – he’d be allowed to feel that again. 

The polar bear buried his head in one of the pillows around him, going through the same motions as he had learned to give over the past few weeks. He didn’t know why Targir had decided to train him to give footjobs, of all things, but he had been told that it would be part of his purpose. Lie on his stomach, put his feet up, and then give the courtiers the option of what they wanted to do. Some of them wanted to fuck his feet and just thrust between his soles while they gave their petition to Targir, while others wanted him to jerk them off with his feet, sliding his arches up and down their cocks, sometimes putting his toes to work along their balls and their shaft. 

This one just wanted to hump. He held his feet up, letting them rest against the wolf’s cock and not putting too much pressure on the shaft. The knot was already growing between his feet, and he knew that the other male wouldn’t be long before blowing his load. 

[i]And that will be one more mark of humiliation…[/i]

He grimaced against the pillow, fighting the strange sense of pleasure that cocks brought him these days. He was still getting used to the fact that he could be used so casually, but it was more than that. 

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust. He could feel each slow slide of the shaft grinding between his soles, the tip pulling back to let his feet press together, and then sliding forward again to push them apart. The knot slid between his arches, treating them almost like the rim of a hole, and the wolf pushed the bear’s feet together all the tighter to hold it there, making a soft ‘pop’ as he pulled back out again. 

And Asmund liked it. 

He gritted his teeth, his face burning as he felt his cock throbbing against the cushions under him. He didn’t want to like this, didn’t even understand how he could find it arousing, but – 

No, he did know. Targir had ordered it, but he’d thought that particular command would have been too impossible to stick. It turned out, it had. 

Thrust. 

Thrust. 

Thrust. 

Asmund lowered his head against the pillows further, covering his eyes and trying not to think about how this must look. His ass cheeks clenched together as his feet were fucked, pre-cum falling on the black pads along his feet, adding to the oily slickness that covered them. He huffed, trying to ignore the pleasure that pulsed through the whole thing, through him, going from his feet up his legs to his cock, and – 

“Mmmph!”

The wolf finally went over the edge, and he felt the raining seed falling on his feet. Hot, slick, just a little bit runny as it landed on his black pads. The petitioner pulled back just enough for some of it to land on the bear’s toes, sliding between them with a wet squelch, and Asmund fought a strange pleasure that came from being ‘marked’ like that. 

[i]Not what I want…not what I want…[/i]

The humming at his cock stopped, which meant that he could roll over again. He did so immediately, shaking his head as he laid on his side once more. 

As the gray wolf walked away, Asmund looked down and over his shoulder. The white lines along his soles were just as messy as he had imagined them to be, and he grumbled as he wiped them on the pillows furthest from him. It didn’t do much to get rid of the slime, but at least it wasn’t as bad as leaving them on his feet. 

How many times had he done that now? Often enough, he knew, often enough to get good at it. There were some wolves that, when they wanted him to stroke them off with his feet, he could make cum in under a minute. They liked his feet, liked marking the dark pads, and…mmmph, he was starting to enjoy letting them. 

[i]I can’t just…I can’t just give in…[/i]

Asmund held onto that thought. If he ever lost that focus, if he ever lost that determination to be himself, then he really would be lost. And if he lost himself to that degree, he was pretty sure that he’d never be able to recover. All that would be left would be a husk with his name serving Targir. The Overthane would enjoy that, he was sure. 

As he dealt with the slimy, squelchy feeling of cum between his toes, Targir called for someone else to step forward. Asmund focused on grinding the pillows and cushions between his toes, wiping off as much of the lingering wolf cum as he could as a new shadow fell over him. He continued to ignore it, knowing that he’d be dragged back to giving footjobs soon enough with the way that the court had taken to humiliating him. All he wanted was a few minutes to just focus on himself, to not have to see himself as a sex toy, and – 

“Well, hello there…”

Asmund looked up again. The wolf standing by his pillow-bed of a litter was someone that was familiar, but he couldn’t remember seeing them around Targir’s court before. Yet, there was something there, a scent in the air and a powerful sense of something else, like…like he’d been intimate with the man before. 

Unlike the wolves in the palace, this one was lean, like he had been out and about. Not so broad as Targir, but slender, someone that traveled and walked about, not so broad-shouldered and more of the loping, wandering sort. The kind of person that could probably keep going forever, but would likely lose in a contest of strength. 

The black fur was familiar, and so was that faint glow in the other man’s eyes. Another Soulbinder, someone that probably carried a number of souls on his person from whatever wins he had. 

[i]I should fucking know you,[/i] Asmund thought, rolling onto his back with his legs half-spread, his balls dangling down into the puddles on the litter. [i]And you know me with that smile. Who the fuck –[/i]

“Mundus. It has been some time since you graced my court,” Targir said. 

[i]Mundus…[/i]

Now he knew how he knew the black wolf. They’d only met once, but it had been to the bear’s profit, that time. He didn’t think that it would work out that well for him a second time. 

“Heh, I’ve been busy,” Mundus said, adjusting the leather vest he wore and flicking it out in flashy fashion. “I can’t just show up all the time.”

“Long as you pay your taxes, I suppose.”

“Heh, you get everything that you need, and more.”

“I must get what I am owed from the most successful businessman in my lands.”

Businessman. Asmund would have snorted in derision if he wasn’t more concerned about drawing further attention to himself. 

Mundus was involved in ‘business’ the way that a pimp was. The black wolf ran the largest empire of pleasure houses and slave traders in the entire north, and he had establishments well outside of Targir’s Thane-dom. Asmund had seen brothels and worse with the black wolf’s logo throughout the lands of ice and snow, and he’d heard rumors that the wolf had opened up a number of establishments further south, as well, transferring some of the species that southerners found exotic down there. 

He'd met the wolf when he was on his way to challenge Targir, all those weeks ago. They’d had a small Wager at the time. Asmund hadn’t asked for the way to get there, nor anything that would have made it easier to visit the Overthane. It had been a simple tease, something to put the black wolf in his place after finding out that Mundus was trafficking in more polar bears than Asmund wanted to see. 

After getting a blowjob from Mundus – as far as he had been willing to go at the time, not wanting to offend someone that had so much reach – he’d pushed for information. Mundus had given it, not entirely happily, but willingly. 

[i]The way that he’s staring at me now…[/i]

“What have you been up to, Mundus?” Targir asked. 

“Have I no title to you, Overthane?”

“When you respect the title the way that you respect your pleasures, perhaps I shall use it, heh.”

“You profit from my pleasures well enough, Overthane, heh, but as you will. I have been busy, of course. Running quite a few houses for the pleasure of others. I have been expanding some of my interests further south, and have even taken in a few species that might be of interest to you.”

“Is that so?” Targir chuckled. “I have taken in a few of my own, as you might have been able to guess.”

“Yes, I see this one fell easily enough.”

It wasn’t quite a ‘kick,’ as such things went, but Mundus certainly nudged with his toes quite firmly. Asmund was knocked back onto his side, his ass cheeks flashing toward the black wolf. 

“I imagine that he was an arrogant son of a bitch.”

“He certainly had a kind of overconfidence,” Targir admitted. “Though it’s been quite the experience breaking him in.”

“You just keep him here like this?”

“Most of the time, though you are the first person to keep bringing focus back to him. Perhaps you can ignore him for a moment, hmm?”

“Heh, maybe, but I’m still wanting some payback…”

The black wolf reached into his pants, fondling himself without a care in the world. Asmund remembered the wolf being crude, crass, certainly far less ‘civilized’ than Targir was, and they’d almost gotten along with that mutual way of seeing the world. But they’d been equals back then, and then Mundus had been under him. This - 

Mundus pulled his pants down under his balls, exposing a cock already rising, throbbing, filling with life. Asmund huffed, waiting for the familiar throbbing, and soon enough, it came.

Hum. 

Hum. 

Asmund grunted as he felt the third hum go through the ring, and he rolled onto his stomach once more. He waited for the wolf to grab hold of his feet, seeing if he was going to thrust, but there was none of that. 

[i]Gotta work this time…[/i]

Shaking his head, he started to move his legs, dragging his feet up and down the shaft. Mundus groaned under his breath as he got stroked, only for the black wolf to chuckle shortly afterward. 

“Hell of a lot more obedient than he was when he visited me.”

“From what I’ve heard, he was not the one that had to obey, Mundus. Should I be concerned about the loyalty that you bear for me?”

“Heh, don’t you worry about my loyalty, Overthane. You’ll keep getting your money, and your toys.”

“And the fact that you sent this one on to fight me? To challenge me?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I figured that you’d beat him. There was no risk sending this one to your – mmmph – palace.”

Hiding both his growls and his pleasures, the bear just listened quietly as the wolves talked to each other. He would have loved to see a little bit of a break-up between Mundus and Targir; even a hint of friction between the two wolves would have made him feel a little better. But between Mundus’s charm and Targir’s professional civility, he could tell that wasn’t going to happen. 

Pop. 

Pop. 

Pop. 

Mundus’s knot was already hard. He didn’t know how the black wolf could have that already without being close to orgasm, but as he stroked his feet up and down, his toes curling and uncurling as the pleasure was forced on him, he knew that it was only the oil on his feet that kept them slick enough for this. A faint, familiar burn in his calves and the back of his thighs was starting to build up as he stroked, stroked, stroked that shaft, but it was far away, no different than the general feeling of tiredness that started to build up during a day of travel. 

Not that he had felt that for weeks now, he realized. He’d been lying here, getting softer, getting more and more accustomed to the feeling of being a pillow-pet to the court. He shook his head, moving his feet so that he braced the shaft with one sole and used the toes of his other foot to stroke it a bit tighter. 

“Mmmph, he’s got a bit of talent, this one. Heh. I think he’s going to be quite the toy when he’s broken in.”

“That may take longer than I expected,” Targir admitted. “This bear was not a Warlord for nothing.”

“Heh, that’s because you’re soft.”

“I am patient.”

“Nah, you just like to play games.”

There was not a single wolf that would have been able to talk to Targir like that and get away with it. The fact that Mundus had money was probably giving him more leeway, but – 

Asmund huffed as some of the black wolf’s pre-cum slid between his toes, making them squelch slightly as he continued to stroke his feet up and down the wolf’s cock. He still wasn’t used to doing this; he was good at it, as the constant paint of pre-cum along his black-padded soles attested, but that didn’t mean that he was used to it. The feeling of that heat, that throbbing need, the wet slickness along his soles was still something that he had to adjust to. And he wasn’t used to it feeling [i]good.[/i]

As his own pre-cum bubbled under his belly from his constant dripping, he tried to think of what life would be like back at home. If he could ever get free again, would this linger? Would he want this again?

The polar bear tried to say no, tried to tell himself that he’d never want to have something up his ass ever again, or to use his feet like this again, but…

[i]Feels…good…[/i]

And if he was completely honest with himself, he’d probably experiment. He told himself that it would never become something that he did from the bottom again, but he might…he might try a few things. 

[i]If I ever get free…[/i]

It had been two weeks. Over two weeks, now, he realized, since he had been claimed as Soulbound. He wasn’t going to be able to Wager his way out of this, not without getting something as collateral, and Targir was too smart to ever let that happen. 

But there was still a chance. 

[i]If my warriors could get here…if they could find some way to get me out of this…[/i]

He had dozens of polar bears that had flocked to his banner as he rose to power. He remembered them, thought of them daily, when he wasn’t getting ass-fucked or slimed across his feet. They were loyal to him; one day, they might find their way here. 

Stroke. Stroke. Stroke. He shifted his legs again, this time bringing one foot under the wolf’s balls and pressing the other to the head of his cock. He curled his toes under and around the head, giving it a gentle stroke in a more sensitive spot, while his other foot rubbed against Mundus’s sac. 

“Mmmph…fuck, he’s good at this.”

“You had other things to report,” Targir said. “Continue.”

“Right. I had a surprise windfall lately, heh.”

“More toys, I assume.”

“Heh, right in one, Overthane. A bunch of polar bears just stumbled right into my lap over the last few weeks.”

Asmund lifted his head from the pillows, his eyes going wide. No, no, that – that couldn’t be them. Couldn’t be. 

“Might they be wearing or carrying a certain banner?” Targir asked, chuckling. “A certain banner that belonged to a certain bear in this room?”

“Oh, you know they were. Bunch of idiots looking for their leader. I swear, the only reason that they got anywhere was because of this slut stroking me off right now.”

“A little less crass, please. This is a throne room, after all.”

“A throne room with a fat-ass pillow-butt slut laid out for all to see, Overthane. You want to pretend it’s any better than one of my brothels, that’s your business, not mine.”

“Nevertheless, I [i]am[/i] Overthane, and you will follow orders if you wish to retain my business.”

“Heh, fine, fine.”

Mundus finally grabbed Asmund’s feet properly, holding them by the ankles as he pulled them together so that they squeezed around the base of his knot. As the wolf started humping away, it was different from the first one that had gone at him. The polar bear felt like he was actually getting [i]fucked,[/i] not just ground-on, and the knot popping between his arches again and again sent a shiver down his legs and up to his balls. 

[i]Mmmph…don’t think about it…don’t fucking think about it…[/i]

But the thought was already creeping into his brain. What would a knot like that feeling like sliding past his pucker and into his ass? What would a knot-fucking back there actually feel like compared to the flare that he was starting to get used to? What would it feel like to have his hole fucked rather than his feet, and feel that knot just…warping him, changing him the way that his mind was getting fucked to enjoy having a cock against his feet?

As Asmund fought those thoughts, the black-furred wolf continued. 

“See, they came looking for their boss. And I, being the fine businessman that I was, thought that they might be good customers if they were willing to just settle down and talk a bit. Spend some money on the sluts that I had in the brothel.

“Sadly, all they wanted to do was cause trouble, throwing their weight around, being problems. And I gave them a choice. They could make their way up to me with a little tournament, going through Wagers with some of my employees, and if they beat me, I’d give them a hand.”

“And none of them won?” Targir asked. 

“Do you think I’d be here if one of them did? Heh, nah. Half of ‘em lost to my bouncers, and the other half barely made it to me before I put them in their place. So, I got twenty-four polar bears waiting to be shipped out to new buyers, once they got the right training to make ‘em worth the money.”

Asmund’s breath caught in his throat as the implications struck him across the face. His men, most of his men, had not only failed to find him, but had been Soulbound in the process. They were getting put through the wringer, put through training to be sex pets for someone else. Maybe they would get lucky and not find a buyer, but would that be lucky when that would leave them as dancers and prostitutes in one of Mundus’s establishments instead? What would happen to them when – 

Mundus pulled his legs down, grinding the length of his shaft across the bear’s feet. The sudden shift of having his toes pointed back and his feet flat rather than having his toes pointed toward the sky surprised him, but more, the feeling of the pre-cum heat across the whole of his padded feet at once hit him hard. He lifted his head up in a huff, shaking his head from side to side as his cock just…throbbed under him.

“Heh, looks like he liked that.”

“Finish your report, please,” Targir said, chuckling. “I get the feeling that you have more to say, and my little bear seems to be enjoying it.”

“Well, long-story short, I’m finding out that these bears are fucking [i]great[/i] at being good sluts for other people. I mean, hard-pressed to find any asses that are bigger and better without going for equines, and they’re a bitch to get all the way up here. Bears are basically the fattest asses I can get my hands on, and there’s something unique about these polar pillow-butts; they got more jiggle to ‘em without getting all fat and useless.”

Asmund gritted his teeth as he fought to keep his moans and huffs and even whimpers from getting free. Mundus’s words were as humiliating as they came, and he kept shivering as those humps continued. 

Forward. 

Back. 

Forward. 

Back. 

The wolf took his time to really grind the tapered tip of his cock against the polar bear’s soles, leaving slime and wetness and slickness everywhere. He could smell the wolf-musk grinding into his feet, the balls that bumped his toes, and he growled under his breath as the forced pleasure was going everywhere, even…

Even between his cheeks. 

Mundus stepped on him, and he felt the wolf’s toes dig into his ass cheeks just enough to spread one to the side. Asmund bit down on one of the cushions, holding it between his teeth as his pucker flexed and clenched. The black wolf chuckled. 

“Looks like this one’s no different.”

“You’ve been treating the other ones to training?” Targir asked. 

“Heh, barely have to train ‘em. They’re so addicted to cumming their brains out that I just gotta give ‘em another way to do it.”

“I have found that they have been rather partial to knots.”

“Partial? They’re fucking addicted to it. I got one of them, some fat-ass bitch that swore he’d never bottomed in his life, and I fucked him once. Just once. Ever since, he’s been spreading his cheeks the instant he sees a wolf go by, begging for knots. Not even a dicking, just the knotting. They’re perfect for it.”

Asmund shivered as he imagined his proud warriors rendered so broken. The idea that the men that he had helped raise up from the ice and make into an army could fall so hard felt impossible…until he remembered where he, himself, had fallen. He had been better than any of them, and he had still fallen into this…this horrible place where – 

[i]Mmmph, fuck my feet again…fuck the arches with the knot…please…[/i]

The polar bear stiffened up as he realized he was thinking that. No, no, he shouldn’t – he couldn’t be just…

“Fuck, I’m close. You mind if I fuck him?”

“I do,” Targir said. 

“Oh, come on.”

“You may paint his hole – on, but not in – or you may blow your load down his throat. Or, I suppose, you could continue painting his soles.”

“Fuck it. Roll over, fat-ass.”

The polar bear did as he was told, and as the tingles of impossible pleasure left his feet, he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. All he knew was that it wasn’t making him feel horny anymore, and his cock – throbbing, hard, finally displayed to the court again – was showing how blue-balled he was. His balls felt like they were actually bigger. They weren’t, of course, but they felt that way, swollen with restrained need and churning away constantly. 

He stared up at the black wolf once more, barely hiding a glare for that cock that had been grinding away between his arches, under his toes, along his feet. It was saturated with its own juices, and –

And he could smell the musk. The male-scent. The throbbing need. 

[i]No…no…[/i]

And yet, it burned in his nose and hit him with all the pleasure and reminder of what he could do. What he should do. What a bear was supposed to do for those that came knocking and offering their knots. 

Asmund huffed under his breath as he reached out with a shaky hand for the shaft. He cupped it between his fingers, feeling the throbbing, pulsing pleasure that ran from the knot to the tip. He could feel the wetness on it, and he looked up to meet Mundus’s smirking expression as the wolf leaned closer. 

“Take it.”

The bear opened his mouth, and without a word, Mundus rammed his cock right down Asmund’s throat. 

He gagged, of course. He wasn’t ready for it, and it rammed all the way to the hilt from the first thrust. The only thing that kept his muzzle from getting locked around that knot was the fact that he had a long enough muzzle to open it a little bit. He coughed as the tip rammed into his throat once, twice, three times, and only after that was he able to get used to it enough to keep swallowing to avoid coughing or gagging. 

Mundus grabbed the back of his head, thrusting him up and down a few times. The wolf huffed, his balls grinding against the bear’s chin before – 

“Mmm, here it comes…time to give you the treat your men have been guzzling down, fat-ass…”

And then it flowed free. Asmund could only swallow around the cock down his throat, feeling each shot, each pulsing blast, hit the back of his neck before continuing its way all the way down to his stomach. Pulse, twitch, pulse, twitch, the very end swelling just a bit to fire its load all the way down his neck. He couldn’t taste it, but he could taste the cock pinning his tongue down, and that was enough. 

Asmund desperately swallowed, keeping it all going in the right direction until the flow stopped. Mundus pulled his cock out, shaking his head as he tapped the end against Asmund’s cheek and dried it off, and grabbed for his pants. 

“Going to be good to do that again next time I visit. Keep working on that; you got a lot of practice ahead before you’re as good as the real whores.”

“Make sure that you bring one of his companions next time,” Targir said, chuckling. “I think that a comparison may be due.”

“Heh, you got it, Overthane.”

Asmund was still gasping and huffing from the rough – but thankfully short – face-fuck. What little experience he’d had certainly wasn’t enough for someone of Mundus’s size. He was fairly sure that the black wolf had more cock to his name than Targir did, and Targir was far from a slouch in that department. 

As he laid down, he hesitated, then looked back at the silver wolf on his throne. The Overthane smiled, a mockery of a sympathetic expression on his face. 

“So, your warriors were taken. A pity, I suppose; I had thought that at least some of them would make it as far as challenging me. I don’t know if I would have taken it, but it would have been interesting to have the option.”

Targir shrugged. 

“Ah, well. Mundus will make something of them, at the end of the day, and perhaps I will be inspired to take your treatment in more creative directions after seeing what happens with them. After all, I can’t have my underlings outperforming me…”

The idea of his situation getting worse had already occurred to him a number of times, but there was something in Targir’s eyes that told him that his ‘training’ was going to speed up from here on out. So far, he’d mostly been humiliated, more punished for making an attempt to Soulbind the wolf than actually trained to be a good toy for someone else. Even so, that had been humiliating enough. 

If Targir was genuinely considering how to ramp it up, Asmund didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out. Mundus’s report implied that most of his men were already breaking down, but there had to be some that were holding out. After all, he still had some sense of himself, some disdain for what was happening to him, even if his body was learning to enjoy it. If he could hold out…

[i]Please. Someone. Anyone. Hold out and come for me. Let there be someone out there that’s still free enough to do something…[/i]

Because Asmund was no longer certain he could hold out for much longer. 










[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]

Summary: A little skip forward, and Asmund shows what has happened to him over the course of a few weeks. 

Tags: M/M, M/solo, Humiliation, Cum on Feet, Footjob, Exhibitionism, Polar Bear, Wolf, Black Wolf, Royal Court, Remote Stimulation, Edging, Teasing, Dirty Talk, Series, Orgasm, Speciesism, Oral,