Dull trudging to the rhythm of the pounding war drums was the only sound among the once-proud human soldiers chained together and forced to march in formation by their captors. The band of orc barbarians who had won the skirmish, however, were cheering and chattering amongst themselves as they marched on either side of their captives. Raucous laughter would break out amongst the green-skinned horde as one or another would bat at a dawdling prisoner, making him stumble and trip into the mud.

Rolf snarled to himself as he glared hatefully at the orcs surrounding him and his men. The bastards had swept into the village like a flood, pillaging everything in their path even as Rolf and his company of human soldiers had fought valiantly to repel them. Thankfully, the women and children were safe; it was common knowledge that orc war bands were only interested in capturing those who opposed them, only rarely killing those who resisted. Though no word had ever reached the human villages of what happened to the men taken by the barbarian horde.

And Rolf didn't have any plans to find out.

The cuffs bolted around his wrists rattled as he looked for the orcs who'd been ordered to carry the captive humans' armor and weapons. A grimace crossed the captain's grizzled face when he recalled the way the orcs had stripped him and his men down to just their undergarments—and, oddly, their boots—the barbarians’ grabbing hands everywhere on the humans' bared bodies as the prisoners were chained in formation. Rolf's cheeks burned in indignation as he remembered how a few wandering hands dipped below his drawers to grope his firm flanks and sweat-soaked crotch.

A growl escaped his throat when he finally caught sight of what he was looking for: the glinting of his men's equipment in the arms of the orcs at the very back of the company. So much for that plan.

"Oy, eyes fo'ward!" Rolf's breath was forced out if his lungs in a strangled huff as the butt of an orcish spear was jabbed into his gut. He staggered, struggling to remain on his feet, and glowered up into the eyes of the barbarian captain. Everything about the leader of the war band was massive, from the tusks curving up from his lower jaw to the muscles that bunched and flexed under the leather straps of his armor and furs—correction, that was the orc's thick, black body hair, which had apparently gotten the idea to grow everywhere save for the top of his head. The orc captain smirked, and the mockery in his deep, drawling voice set Rolf's teeth on edge. "Dat's wot I likes ta see, dat fire in the new meat's eyes. Makes it funner ta break 'em in." He grabbed the scruff of Rolf's neck to pull him to his feet, and then sent the human stumbling again with a hard clap on Rolf's back.

Rolf's face twisted into another snarl and burned in humiliation at the guffawing laughter of the orcs watching their leader. He drew himself up defiantly, chest out and chin high with his eyes firmly forward as he marched. He wouldn't give these brutish barbarians the satisfaction of getting under his skin; even in defeat, he had to set an example for his men.

A loud cheer arose from the orcs at the front of the line as they finally caught sight of their clan’s camp. High wooden walls topped with cruel-looking stakes rose up from the plain, decorated with animal skins, bestial skulls, and orcish runes painted in a worryingly-red tint. A murmur of trepidation ran through the chained men, and even Rolf couldn’t stop a shudder running down his spine as their captors lead them through the gates to the celebratory sound of drums and horns. A thick funk hung heavily in the air of the camp, a mixture of roasting meat, sweat, and masculine musk. The other orcs of the clan watched as the raiding party paraded down a long ‘street’ lined with animal-skin tents to the center of the camp, and Rolf was relieved to see humans mixed in among the crowd, apparently being held captive as well. However, any hope of rousing them to aid in an escape died when he noticed the men mingling comfortably with the orcs, arm-in-arm with the barbarians and gazing over the new arrivals with the same hungry light in their eyes. Even more worrisome to the captive captain was the fact that every man—and it seemed the clan was made up entirely of men, not a single female in sight—both human and orc was almost entirely nude. Save for a pair of fur-lined boots that every member of the clan wore, their hairy, muscular bodies were displayed shamelessly. Rolf noticed that a few males had strangely round, taut guts that they seemed to carry with gleeful pride.

The raiding party led the human captives into the center of the camp, and the audience followed behind to gather around and close off any possible means of escape. An older orc, hair silvered and tusks yellowed with age, sauntered out of the massive tent before them, his massive body still heavily muscled and his plump, virile-looking manhood swaying between his tree-trunk thighs. Rolf shuddered once more as the elder orc let his wandering gaze pass over the lined-up captives, and then turned to the orc captain with a proud smile. “Looks like ya brought lotsa new meat back ta camp dis time, Gurzz. Good work!”

“Chief Urtz,” the orc captain rumbled in return. His own tusked mouth opened into a broad grin as he casually strolled forward, pressed his sweaty body against Urtz’s, and pulled the orc chieftain into a deep kiss. The human captives murmured in mixed shock and disgust at the display, watching as the two males’ tusks ground together while their lips and tongues worked hungrily against each other. When the kiss finally parted amidst the whooping and cat-calling of the horde, Gurzz slung his arm over the chief’s shoulders and led him forward to examine the raiding party’s spoils of war. The barbarian captain nodded to his waiting men and, with a guttural commanded, shouted at the other orcs to “Strip ‘em!”

Rolf and his men didn’t even have time to shout in protest as the eager orcs fell onto them, tugging at the captives’ drawers and tearing them off to expose the remainder of their bodies to the watching crowd. Faces burning in indignation, the human soldiers could only stand and wriggle defiantly as they were groped, prodded, and pushed around by the victors once more. Rolf gasped as he felt a large, calloused hand close down around his ballsack, and glared up into Gurzz’s eyes once more.

“Dey put up a damn good fight. Dis one got me real good.” The orc captain gestured with his free hand to a bandaged wound in his shoulder, a deep gouge from Rolf’s sword; Rolf’s satisfaction from wounding the barbarian was dampened by the pride with which Gurzz showed it off.

“Fuckin’ nice.” Rolf got a closer look of the chief and Gurzz mashing their lips together as Urtz pulled the captain into another deep kiss. “E’ll make a damn fine mate fer ya. And ye’ll make a damn fine chief when I finally kick da bucket.” With a hearty guffaw, Urtz gave Gurzz’ firm ass a smack that rang through the encampment.

“Fuck!” Gurzz’s eyes fluttered and his cheeks darkened, and then he reached back to grope the older orc’s own plump, hair-coated ass in return. He rubbed and squeezed the flesh, making the chief’s cock pulse and dribble as it grew fat and hard with arousal. “We’s got plenty a’ years afore then. N’ me n’ me mates got plenty more loads ta pump ya full of.” His voice dropped into a low, husky murmur with that last sentence.

“Mm, ye’ve been lovin’ me cunt since the day I pushed ya outta it, aint’cha?” Rolf blinked, mind still reeling at the debauchery he’d already witnessed to wonder at that, and then set his face back into a scowl as the two orcs turned their heads to give him matching grins. “Alright, ya lot, ya know how dis goes! Me boy gets first pick, n’ the rest are yers ta split up between yas!” The chief’s proclamation was met with a rousing cheer from the war band.

Gurzz immediately moved forward to start undoing the bolts of Rolf’s shackles. “Dis one’s mine.” Rolf waited for the heavy irons to fall to the ground between his booted feet before trying so he could make his move, but before he could strike at Gurzz the barbarian captain’s hand grabbed Rolf’s head and forced the human’s face into the thick hair of the orc’s dank, stinking armpit.

Rolf struggled, holding his breath against the assault of Gurzz’s ripe musk as he punched at the orc’s abdomen and squirmed in his grasp. The orc captain merely grunted and chuckled as he kept Rolf’s head firmly in place under his arm. Rolf’s lungs began to burn with the exertion of fighting against his captor’s grip, until he finally couldn’t resist anymore. He took a deep, gasping breath, and his aching lungs were filled not with sweet air, but the reek of Gurzz’s unwashed body.

“Dat’s it, take a good, deep whiff. ‘S the only thing ye’ll be breathin’ fer a while.” Gurzz’s voice was filled with mocking tenderness as he rubbed Rolf’s face against the sweaty flesh of his pit. The human’s knees grew weak as he was forced to breathe in, feeling the orc’s heady stench burning his nostrils and tasting the salt of Gurzz’s sweat on his lips. This, of course, made it easy for the barbarian captain to drag his prize through the camp towards his own large tent.

Rolf gasped as he was finally pulled out of Gurzz's armpit, and grunted as he was sent sprawling onto a pile of furs by a rough shove. He panted, trying to get the stink of the orc out of his nose as he looked around wildly for some kind of escape. Of course, the only way out was blocked by Gurzz’s massive form. The orc grinned down at the human, and began to strip his armor off, almost making a show of it; each leather strap, bracer, and plate was slowly removed in a manner that emphasized Gurzz’s every flexing muscle. Rolf’s face flushed again, indignant as the barbarian gave the human a flirtatious wink and untied the knot of his loincloth to finally bare himself completely.

“Like wot’cha see, do ya?”

The human found his gaze unconsciously running over the orc’s body as he showed it off proudly, turning this way and that while keeping himself between Rolf and the exit of the tent. The barbarian captain was certainly a fine example of masculinity—taut muscles covered with a healthy layer of fat and lustrous hair easily demonstrated his strength, and the scars crisscrossing Gurzz’s body told of his experience in combat. Were it not for the green hue of his skin and the monstrous tusks arcing from the pronounced lower jaw of his bestial visage, Rolf would say he’d be proud to fight alongside a man like Gurzz. Of course, instead, the human scowled at his barbarous enemy and refused to dignify the orc with a response.

Gurzz chuckled and turned back to fully face the human. His thick fingers scratched at the heavy, pendulous sack hanging like an obscene fruit between his thighs, and Rolf grimaced as the barbarian brought the digits to his nose to give them a few quick sniffs. However, the human did give the orc’s manhood a reluctantly curious appraisal. Rolf had seen many penises in his service—camaraderie between soldiers often led to a relaxation of modesty in the barracks, and long, dusty sorties were only made bearable with the occasional ‘understanding’ between men—but the barbarian captain’s cock was the largest he’d ever seen. It was long, fat, and veiny, with a plump foreskin that was surely the source of that embarrassingly-familiar fishy undertone to the musk slowly filling the stale air of the tent. “Wot, cat got’cher tongue?”

Rolf was shaken out of his thoughts by Gurzz’s ribbing, and jerked his gaze away from the orc’s hairy crotch to glare up at him.

“Right, den.” Gurzz’s lips twisted into another broad grin as he pulled his boots off—using the toe of one to tug at the heel of the other—and stalked towards Rolf like a predator that had finally cornered its prey. “I thinks wot’cha need is a closer look.”

The human watched the orc carefully as he approached, already thinking of ways to subdue the brute and make his escape. His eyes raked over Gurzz’s—admittedly not unpleasant-looking—body, searching out possible weak points. He snarled at the orc, readying himself as Gurzz grew close. But before he could act, his train of thought was scattered by the barbarian lifting one leg and pressing the sole of his foot to the human’s face. Rolf struggled as the powerful limb forced his head back against the furs on the floor, trapping him in yet another musky embrace. The orc’s foot was sweaty from days of being confined in his boot, the scent pungent and spicy as Rolf was forced to breathe it in. “Get off!” Rolf grasped the orc’s ankle and tried to lift Gurzz’s foot off as the barbarian captain put his entire weight onto it.

“Har, so ye can speak. Good.” Gurzz’s grin only widened as he forced Rolf’s nose into the reeking ridge of his toes. “Means I can hear ya beggin’ ta huff me stink. Go on, give ‘em a lick. Me feet’re achin’ from da march, n’ need a nice cleanin’.”

The human gagged at the mere implication and tried to hold breath against the onslaught, but once again it was only a matter of time before the burning ache in his lungs made it impossible to stop from filling them with the ripe scent. He groaned as his head swam once more under the assault of the orcish musk, and it was only when Gurzz pulled his foot away with a low chuckle that Rolf realized his mouth had fallen open and his tongue had pressed against the sweaty flesh.

With a cough, Rolf spat and glared at Gurzz, trying to scrape the salty taste from his tongue with his teeth. “You’ll pay for that, orc!”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me ya didn’t like it.” Gurzz squatted down next to Rolf and, before the human could think to drive his fingers into the orc’s jeering eyes, gave Rolf’s leaking erection a sharp flick. “Dis guy seemed ta like it plenty.”

Rolf stared in horror at his crotch, seeing the stiff manhood rising from between his thighs pulsing and slowly leaking precum onto his own hair-coated belly. He’d grown hard under the Gurzz’s heel. His mind reeled as he scrambled to deny the orc’s insinuation, but the burning of his cheeks and the throbbing of his cock couldn’t be ignored.

The human gasped and let out a low hiss as Gurzz’ hand closed down around his balls. “Don’ worry, mate.” Again, the orc’s voice was filled with mocking tenderness. “Dere’s plenty more where dat came from.”

Rolf struggled however he could as Gurzz’s other hand pressed on his chest, forcing the human back down onto the fur floor of the tent, but his limbs shook at the betrayal of his own body. Thoughts and sensations not his own assaulted his swimming mind, and before he realized it Gurzz had shifted to straddle his chest. “No.” The word came out as a hoarse whimper as Rolf stared in horror at the orc’s hairy backside, watching it descend upon him like an executioner’s axe.

“Oy, no complainin’! You din’t tink me feet were the only part ‘a me that needed a bath, did’ja?” Gurzz let out a hearty guffaw, and dropped his ass down onto Rolf’s face, completely burying it in the dank, sweaty, furry cleft. “Come on, den. Use yer tongue ta gi’ me arse a right proper washin’!”

The smell of the Gurzz's ass was strong, raunchy, but not foul—Rolf was grateful for that at least. He bucked under the orc, trying to push the barbarian off, but that just made Gurzz guffaw and rock his hips right back against Rolf's face, pinning the human with the orc's full weight. A sharp squeeze of his ballsack made the human gasp, and again Rolf's abused lungs were filled with the earthy reek of the barbarian captain. Rolf was well-acquainted with the rich, masculine smell of a man's body—long sorties and guard duty left little time to bathe, and so the barracks and tents of the human captain's company were often filled with the ripe aroma of manhood. However, this was something else entirely. The spicy musk tainting every labored breath made Rolf's head swim and sent pulses of heat to his leaking erection.

He didn't realize his lips had fallen open and his tongue had instinctively moved out to brush through the hair-filled ass crack until it touched the slick pucker buried within. Rolf let out a strangled groan at the gamey taste staining his tongue, but had nowhere else to hide it; the orc's flavor had already seeped into his mouth, the sweat and acrid oil caught in Gurzz's cleft mingling with the human's saliva. Rolf could only work his tongue over the wrinkled flesh, down to the orc's taint and up through the dank crack. He wasn't enjoying this. The throbbing in his cock meant nothing. The puddle of precum growing on his stomach meant nothing. His neck straining as he shoved his face deeper into the orc's backside, huffing Gurzz's scent and lapping over the pungent flesh meant nothing.

Rolf panted harshly as Gurrz finally lifted off of him, freeing the human from the prison of the barbarian captain's body. He stared upward, lying bonelessly on the soft furs beneath him. He could feel the dampness smeared over his face, wetting his burning cheeks. Shame and arousal mingled in his shattered thoughts as he met the orc's gaze.

Gurzz's grin was wide and jeering as he looked over the debased human. "Dere ya go, dat's much betta, innit?" He reached back, running a finger through his sweat-and-saliva-soaked crack, and brought the digit to his broad, snout-like nose to sniff at it. "Feels nice ta get a propa cleanin' after a raid. But'cha ain't finished yet." His gaze dropped downward, and Rolf's eyes followed until they locked onto the orc's massive erection. Thick precum filled the ample foreskin and freely ran down the fat, veiny shaft to catch in Gurzz's furry pubes. The human couldn't help comparing the size of his own cock to the gargantuan manhood before him, and his cheeks burned all the hotter at the difference. A small, private part of Rolf had always prided itself on his satisfactory size, but the barbarian looming over him was half again as long, and the difference in their girths wasn't even worth comparing.

That thick breeding tool smacked heavily against Rolf's flushed cheek, sending gooey pre splashing across the human's lips and a toe-curling throb through his own erection. Rolf gasped and breathed in the heady aroma of Gurzz's crotch, and of its own accord his head tilted to let his lips meet the sweaty flesh.

"Dat's it, get nice n' cozy wit it. Dat's da cock dat's gonna be breedin' yer cunt from now on.” Any resistance the human had put up until then was completely absent as the plump, foreskin-coated head pressed against and finally through Rolf's parted lips. Rolf could only groan and gag as the orc's cock slid into his mouth, grinding on his soiled tongue and straining his jaw with its expanse. "Yeah, gonna breed'ja good, human. Get'cher guts filled wit me seed 'till yer pumpin' sons out fer me." Gurzz huffed like a horny beast and ground Rolf's face into his crotch as he rocked back and forth. "Mmf! Yeah, yer gonna make a fine fuckin’ mate. Nice n'strong, n'know yer place on me dick."

Gurzz was completely vulnerable as he lost himself to his lustful ramblings. Rolf's gaze was filled with the barbarian's swinging balls—it would be so easy to grab them, strike them, twist them and send the orc staggering with pain. He could bite down on the strongly-flavored manhood violating his mouth; make sure the orc wouldn't be able to force his depravity on any more human captives. But as Gurzz's cock worked into his mouth and gradually pushed down his throat, Rolf found his will to fight draining away. Every rough thrust, every smack of the orc's balls on his face, every whiff of the barbarian's musk left the human reeling. He began to lose track of time, his entire world narrowing down to a pair of pulsing, dribbling, pleasure-filled cocks—one sinking into his open mouth, caressed by Rolf's working lips and tongue, and the other bouncing and smacking on Rolf's belly with every involuntary rock of his own hips.

Thick, sticky warmth pumping down his throat to settle heavily in his gut as Gurzz roared out his orgasm finally yanked Rolf out of his dreamy stupor. The human could only groan and keep his jaw slack as he waited for his captor to withdraw his softening cock. When the orc finally did, making sure to smear the last few dribbles if his seed over Rolf's lips, the human lifted his weary gaze to once more meet the orc's. "Har... ya like dat?" Gurzz took the Rolf's silence as agreement, and gave the human's burning cheek a derisive pat and his smut-coated lips a surprisingly gentle kiss. "Good, 'cause we's gonna keep at it 'till ya love it."

The orc was true to his word. Days passed, filled with Rolf being forced to explore every sweaty, unwashed inch of Gurzz's body again and again. The human's tongue and lips grew very familiar with the scents and tastes of the orc's sweaty soles and toes, the dank pits under his arms and the cleft of his ass, and his musky crotch, cock, and balls. Rolf's only respite were the breaks the two took to sleep, gorge themselves on roasted meat and sweet mead, and to clean and relieve themselves; though Gurzz was often impatient, and Rolf lost count of the times he found himself choking down the orc's briny, full-bodied piss along with his seed. At least Gurzz was generous enough to return the favor with a genial grin and a flirtatious wink.

One area in which the orc was strangely patient, though, was his own exploration of Rolf's body. For all his talk of "breedin' yer cunt good 'n full like da broodmare ya are" in the heat of the moment, he only probed the human's own tight ass with a finger while fucking Rolf's mouth and throat. Gurzz seemed similarly eager to shove his nose and tongue into every nook and cranny of Rolf's body as it was disciplined to respond to his touch, but he only gradually began to focus on the human's ass as time went on. First a finger probing Rolf's depths, and then two, and then he bent Rolf over to eat the human out like a man enjoying the most decadent meal of his life.

When the time finally came to feel that massive cock inside of him, Rolf found himself eager for it. He didn't cum the first time Gurzz fucked him, or the second time, but he did reach down to pleasure his own erection as it bounced with every slamming thrust from the orc. And when he finally did cum one sweaty night, feeling Gurzz's burly arms wrapped around him and the orc's firm chest on his back, Rolf gave in to his captor completely.

During a raucous celebration of the human accepting his new place in the clan, Rolf was introduced to Gurzz's other mate's—husbands, he finally came to understand. The barbarian captain had accumulated a good-sized harem of formerly-captive humans, pureblood orcs, and hybrids—many of whom he'd sired himself, Gurzz had boasted proudly while slinging his arms around them and giving them all plenty of amorous fondling and groping. All of them were strong, powerful, and virile, and very eager to welcome their new fellow mate at last. The celebration lasted long into the night, Rolf exploring and being explored, rutting and being rutted, and finally settling into a sweaty, sated pile with his mates as the morning sun filtered into their tent.

The day soon came for Rolf to wander the camp with Gurzz, which the two did arm-in-arm like longtime bosom companions. As the former human captain gazed around, he found himself recognizing many of the men from his former company huddled and fraternizing with mates of their own. He traded knowing smiles and flirtatious glances with them as he and Gurzz passed; they had all come to accept their new lives, and not a single one entertained thoughts of leaving. Why would they?

Gurzz pulled Rolf aside to settle near one of the fires, and the human leaned in to whisper a devious idea that had struck him suddenly into his mate's ear. Rather than sitting near the flames, Rolf prostrated himself on his back and reached down to fondle himself while giving Gurzz a lusty grin. He was met with a matching smile and a guffaw from the orc, who quickly moved to straddle his chest. Rolf made sure that the former members of his company who were nearby were watching, and then reached up to grasp Gurzz's hips and pulled the orc down to sit fully on his face; even in the tender licentiousness of their new life, he had to set an example for his men.

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:49 UTC
Views: 571