The attack came like an earthquake—sudden, swift, and impossible to divert. The watchmen had barely sounded the alarm before the horde burst through the gates of the outpost, rushing forward with roars of bloodlust. Though the dwarves prided themselves on the craftsmanship of their defenses and the single-minded efficiency of their military might, the sheer difference in numbers decided the battle before it had begun.

Bralin Stonefoot, commander and foreman of the southern dwarven mining outpost, struggled against his bonds as he looked to his fellow dwarves on his left and right. The entire population, 40 fine dwarven men, had been stripped of their armor, weapons, and even clothing, and had been bound and gagged and made to kneel before the victorious horde in the center of the courtyard. Bralin thanked the gods that none of his men had been killed in the battle, and then turned his glare onto the raiding party; orcs, from one of the northern clans by the look of their fur-lined armor and boots. The plating looked heavy and hot for the climate, more suited to warming the body in the cold air of the north than for protection in the warm, humid climate of the south. Bralin shook away questions of what in the hells northern orcs were doing all the way down near their outpost as what he presumed to be the horde’s leader sauntered forth.

The orc staring down at the defeated dwarves, his tusks and a deep scar on his cheek twisting his grin into a bestial snarl, was massive even by orcish standards. Thick muscle rippled under taut layers of fat as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, standing tall and proud. More scars of battle criss-crossed his body under his armor, and what visible bits of his green skin weren’t marred by the evidence of his fighting prowess were coated in dark hair. He seemed to be a paragon of masculine virility and strength, and were Bralin in a different position he’d find the boar painfully attractive.

As it was, though, Bralin glowered as the orc moved forward to crouch down and hook a finger under the dwarven foreman’s bearded chin. “Sorry fer da way we busted in on ya. Me n’ me boys’re a bit lost, n’ our provisions be runnin’ a bit low. We’re a l’il desperate, ye ken?” What was this, a ploy for sympathy? Bralin jerked his head away from the orc’s grip with a low grunt, his glare burning all the hotter. “Now now, no need ta be like dat. Is dat any way ta treat’cher guests?”

“Last I checked, ‘guests’ don’t break down the door and tie you up.”

“Har! Dere we go, dat’s funny dat is!” The orc clapped Bralin on the shoulder like an old friend, nearly sending the bound dwarf sprawling. “Like I said, me n’ the boys’re a bit desperate.” He pulled the dwarf back upright and, before Bralin could recognize the glinting in the orc’s eyes, tugged him into a deep, hungry kiss.

Mutters of shock rumbled through the dwarven captives, while the watching orcish horde guffawed and murmured to each other at the display. Bralin struggled as the orc’s muscular arms wrapped around and lifted him up against the boar’s firm, sweaty chest, and groaned as the orc’s tongue forced its way into his mouth. The dwarf was cradled in the orc’s arms, forced to suckle on his wriggling tongue and inhale the rich musk of the barbarian’s body—dank and cloying as it wafted out from under his armor with every movement. Bralin’s nostrils burned and tingled as he was carried over to a chair set up by a few members of the watching horde; his head swam, and he let out a low moan as his cock throbbed to life at the rich scent, so much stronger than the musk of even his own virile, masculine fellows.

“Like dat, do ya? Dere’s plenty more for ya.” Another grin-snarl twisted the orc leader’s lips as he plopped down into the chair like a king on his throne, the wood creaking in protest under his bulk. A rough, barking command to his men made a few of the watching orcs step forward to begin stripping their commander of his armor and furs right from under the bound dwarf.

Bralin came back to himself at a sharp slap across his firm ass from the barbarian. He felt thick, strong fingers tug at one of his hairy flanks, exposing the sweat-damp cleft and the clenching pucker within to both the warm air and the eyes of the watching dwarven captives and orcish horde. His cheeks burned underneath his beard at being so thoroughly exposed. “Release me, orc…!”

“Rezzug,” The orc let out a sigh of relief as his men finished removing his heavy, fur-lined armor, freeing his sweaty body and leaving it nearly completely bare. At a nod from their commander, the watching horde finally began to strip their own equipment off, the orcs almost making it a show for the captive audience of bound dwarves kneeling before them. The orc commander, Rezzug, then turned to give Bralin a flirtatious wink before flipping the dwarf in his grip over as easy as handling a stray cat. Bralin grunted as his nose was forced into the dingy, soiled loincloth covering the orc’s pendulous bulge. “Gotta give ya summ’n ta moan out while I breed’ja good and deep.”

Bralin struggled, his face flushing as it ground against the orc’s pungent crotch. “Breed!?”

“Aye. Like I said, me n’ the boys were getting’ desperate. Ain’t had a hole ta shove our pricks into in months, save each others’.” Bralin shuddered as he heard the slurp of Rezzug licking his lips, and felt the orc’s calloused hands grasping and squeezing his bare buttocks. He peeled the firm cheeks of Bralin’s ass apart, exposing the twitching, hair-ringed hole buried in the dwarf’s cleft once more.

Bralin yelped as Rezzug then shoved his snout against the musky flesh, inhaling deeply and pushing the dwarf’s face even further down between his splayed legs. His cheeks burned in shame at the laughter ringing through the watching orcish horde—he couldn’t bear to meet the gaze of his men, and so clenched his eyes shut as Rezzug continued snuffling into his ass.

“Ya smell nice n’ ripe. Fertile-like.” Another smack on his tender flank made Bralin gasp, and then wheeze and groan as his lungs were filled with the orc’s cloying musk. “N’ like yer no stranger ta getting’ bred, eh?”

Bralin grunted in answer and grit his teeth. It was true that, like orcs, dwarven men were able to reproduce by breeding with each other. And it was also true that, as the foreman of the outpost, it was his duty to keep the working populace at a steady level; and that often meant lying with the other workers and bearing their sons.

Not that he would give the damn greenskin the satisfaction of admitting to it.

He squirmed in the orc’s grip and growled out a few curses—which trailed off into a strangled mewl as Rezzug’s fat, moist, wriggling tongue pressed right into the damp pit behind his balls, dragged upward through his cleft, and lapped over his hole. Bralin’s face burned all the hotter when he felt the throb of his erection as his hips rocked of their own accord, pressing his turgid shaft against the orc’s chest.

“Well, go on, den. Tell us how many’ve bred’ja.”

The words didn’t make sense to Bralin until a rough hand twisted in his hair and lifted his head. He was forced to look at his fellow captive dwarves, their faces filled with fear even as their own cocks pulsed and dribbled.

“How many’a yer boys’ve blown a load in this pretty l’il cunt a yers?”

Bralin’s teeth clenched all the harder, shame and arousal warring on his face as the thrice-damned orc’s tongue continued wriggling and swirling over his pucker. The barbarian’s huffed his captive’s scent with bestial abandon, and his bulge throbbed against the dwarf’s bearded chin. After a few minutes of this humiliation, Bralin finally gave Rezzug his answer, though the words were lost in a strangled, huffing moan.

“Wot’s dat? Didn’t hear ya.” Rezzug grinned and blew a slow, humid breath over Bralin’s pulsing hole, then flicked his tongue over the twitching ring.

“All of them, damn your eyes!” Tears pricked at the corners of Bralin’s own eyes as the orcish horde broke into raucous laughter. He looked over the defeated faces of his men, and then hung his head—this only brought his nose back against the orc’s dingy loincloth, and Bralin groaned and slumped in his captor’s grip.

“Har! Proper l’il broodmare, ain’t’cha!” Rezzug hummed in thought, his hands continuing to tease the dwarf’s flanks and his musk-stained tongue darting over his lips at the delectable sight before him. The dwarf’s firm, plump ass, the hairy cleft spread wide open to bare the loose pucker of Bralin’s hole—his cunt, ripe and ready to pump out some strong, but perhaps compact, boars. The dwarf’s heavy balls, massive for his shorter stature, hanging in their leathery sack and absolutely reeking of sweat and masculine pheromones. And of course, the dwarf’s thick erection; short and stout as the rest of him, pulsing and leaking and bobbing in the air. Rezzug buried his face in Bralin’s crotch and sank down a little in his seat to let the dwarf rest heavily on his body. His arms wrapped around the dwarf’s wide frame, and his hands moved to unwrap the cloth covering his own sweaty, swampy, dank crotch.

Bralin watched, wide-eyed, as the orc’s erection was finally freed to rise up and smack heavily against his bearded cheek. The orc’s club-like prick was as massive as the rest of him, and just as sweaty and musky—Bralin’s lungs burned as they were filled with the spicy, virile scent of the monstrous cock before him. He gulped, shame forcing his eyes down once more as he felt his hole clench; under any other circumstances, he’d be eager to test his might against such an intimidating weapon.

It seemed the sight of the orcish commander’s erection had a similar effect on the rest of the dwarves, who bit their lips and grit their teeth to stifle their moaning. The rest of the orc’s however, weren’t so shy; their hooting and catcalling of their commander filled the air, along with their own built-up musks as they finished stripping.

Rezzug watched the display his men were putting on for a moment, and then stood with a grunt and kicked his chair aside. “I gots an idea.” Once more, Bralin was cradled in the orc’s arms, so he could get a good look at what their commander’s show had done to the orcs. Every single boar had the fire of lust burning in his eyes as he stroked himself or reached out to grope and caress his fellow orc. His view of the horde was interrupted as Rezzug kissed him, deep and hungry, and then kneeled to slam the captive dwarf onto the dusty ground. Bralin wheezed and his vision swam as he struggled fruitlessly beneath the orc until his vision cleared, and then he finally looked up into Rezzug’s face. “Like I said, me lads are tired from marchin’ all damn day n’ not havin’ a cunt ‘sides their fellows’ ta blow in, n’ we’re all a little pent up.” His grin widened, the scar along his cheek twisting it into a devilish sneer as his eyes, too, burned with lust. “’Ow’s about you be a good broodmare fer yer guests, eh?”

Bralin’s protesting was silenced with another slobbering kiss, the orc’s tongue ravishing the dwarf’s mouth utterly and completely. Rezzug’s hands stroked down the dwarf’s sides to his hips, and then lifted and spread Bralin’s legs wide open. Bralin winced and huffed in pain as his left leg—his namesake, the limb deadened by an accident in the mines when he was younger—throbbed and twinged. Rezzug broke their kiss to bring the dwarf’s numb foot to his face; the fact that Bralin couldn’t feel what he was doing didn’t stop the orc from running his lips, tongue, and snout all over the sweaty sole.

After a few moments of snuffling against and lapping over the dwarf’s foot and between his toes almost tenderly, Rezzug seemed to come back to himself. He grunted out a breathless command, and two of his underlings moved forth with some spare rope to tie Bralin’s ankles to his bound wrists. The dwarf was left splayed wantonly, grunting and groaning and panting as he glared up at his captor. Rezzug let out a moan of his own as he settled his eager shaft into the spread cleft of the dwarf’s ass. “Fuckin’ beautiful, y’are.”

His fellow orcs seemed to agree. The two who had moved forth to assist their commander pressed their own dribbling erections against Bralin’s face with needy moans, and leaned in to rub their tusks against each others’ throats.

“Oi!” The two orc’s jumped at a shout and a sharp slap across the ass for both of them from their commander. “’Is mouth is mine, remember dat.”

“Aye, sir...”

Then, Rezzug’s glare softened into a wide grin. “Ye can use any other part a’ him, though.”

The two orcs met their commander’s gaze with beaming grins of their own, and resumed humping against the captive dwarf’s face. “Aye, sir!”

Bralin’s mind floundered and finally sank into a haze as the musk of the orcs surrounded him; spicy, cloying, choking, sweat and virile male burning in his nose and lungs. He was only brought back to himself with a sharp yelp as Rezzug’s fat cockhead finally breached his ring. The rim clenched around the invader, tugging Rezzug’s copious foreskin back as the orc pushed forward into the heat of Bralin’s ass.

“Fuck, yer tight fer a broodmare…” Rezzug panted, looking down to the dwarf’s flushing face, and gave his captive an almost-flirtatious wink. “Den again, I guess dese l’il twigs ya dwarvies got don’ do much ta give ya a good stretchin’ do they?” He ran his fingertip over Bralin’s cock, making the turgid spike jump and splatter the dwarf’s hair-coated belly with precum. Bralin clenched his eyes tight, but couldn’t block his ears to the grating laughter rising from the horde.

Even as tight as his captive was, Rezzug didn’t seem to have trouble sinking his entire length into the dwarf’s back passage. The orc’s eyes rolled in his head in pleasure as his full, aching sack finally pressed against Bralin’s asscheeks, his shaft hilted in the dwarf. Every pulse and squeeze of Bralin’s inner walls made the orc grunt in pleasure, the passage becoming slick with Rezzug’s own freely-flowing precum. He reluctantly drew his cock out of the dwarf’s hole, only to slam back in with a savage growl.

Bralin threw his back and cried out as the aftershocks of every powerful thrust rocked through his body. Every panting breath filled his lungs with the reeking scent of the pent-up horde as they pushed in to surround the two mating males. The dwarf felt cock after cock pressing against his body, rubbing and grinding over every inch of him. Pressing into the crook of his neck and against his forehead and chin. Into his hair-filled armpits and over his pert nipples. His chest. The firm rise of his belly. Even his bound hands and the soles of his feet became nothing but pleasure objects to the grunting orcs as they humped with wild abandon.

Bralin didn’t even realize he’d cum all over himself until he felt Rezzug’s hand smearing his thick, tacky seed over his gut.

Rezzug leaned in close, moving his face right up into Bralin’s own and getting a better angle to pound into the dwarf’s hole. The orcish commander didn’t seem to care if his underlings’ cocks bounced and ground against his own cheeks—in fact, he seemed to relish the thick musk wafting from his fellow boars’ crotches, if the increased pace of his thrusting and the deep, huffing sniffs he was taking of it was any indication. Rezzug stared right into Bralin’s eyes as he licked the cum off of his fingers slowly and deliberately; he was making a show of it as he suckled on each digit in turn. Then he pressed his hand to Bralin’s face, turning his captive’s head and grinding the dwarf’s cheek into the dirt. “Look at ‘em. Yer boys. Yer fellow dwarvies. The men ya love sluttin’ yer l’il broodmare cunt out ta.”

It was difficult—the orcs pressing in against him from all sides and humping his bound body blocked his view, but they shifted aside at an order from their commander. Bralin could finally see his men, bound and left to watch as the orcish horde ravished their foreman. They were all achingly hard, their cocks dribbling onto the ground and pulsing with every moan and grunt from the horny orcs. A few of the captive dwarves had even hunched over to rub their erections against their thighs, pleasuring themselves any way they could in their bound state. All of them were looking at him. Watching him being debased.

Bralin let out a strangled moan as his tender cock throbbed back to pulsing life.

Another few minutes of panting, thrusting, and flicking his tongue against his fellow orcs’ cocks finally brought Rezugg over the edge of orgasm. He slammed his shaft into Bralin to the hilt, roaring as he emptied his balls into his captive’ ass. Then he drew himself free and moved aside, and another eager orc pressed forward to begin fucking the dwarf. Rezzug, meanwhile, pushed the orcs near Bralin’s head aside to lay his spent cock across the dwarf’s nose and lips. With a drunken groan, Bralin nuzzled into his captors’ crotch and inhaled the raunchy scent of the orcish commander’s musk.

“Dere ya go, dat’s a good broodmare.” Rezzug smiled as he dragged his cum-and-smut-smeared cock through Bralin’s beard. “Clean it.”

Bralin’s lips parted, and Rezzug pushed his malehood into the dwarf’s suckling mouth. He murmured in pleasure as Bralin’s tongue worked into his foreskin and swirled around the head, and the dwarf’s lips worked over the shaft as it sank into him—from the front this time. The orc working the dwarf’s backside, meanwhile, humped fast and hard, eager to blow his load in a hot, tight hole; and Bralin’s inner walls squeezed down around the invader to give him what he wanted.

As he fucked Bralin’s mouth, Rezzug once again turned his tender affections to the dwarf’s feet. He nuzzled and kissed the toes, and lapped up the cum from one overeager boar who’d blown his load early from Bralin’s sole. Meanwhile, orc after orc bred the captive dwarf’s ass, dumping load after load of thick seed into their broodmare. A few found it fitting to spread a bit of cum from what Bralin had splattered over his own belly onto their cocks before sinking the semen-smeared shafts into the dwarf; not that they needed the lubrication, but there was something perversely satisfying about pushing the broodmare’s own cum into his hole along with theirs.

Long into the night the gangbang continued, until Rezzug and every other orc in the horde had completely drained their balls into Bralin. The captive dwarf was left a panting, gasping, ravished mess, his body coated in musk and semen as orcish seed leaked freely from his gaping hole. Rezzug lifted Bralin into his arms, displaying his spent, slack body to the other captives with a snarling, savage grin. “Ya see this, lads!? This is what ‘appens ta slutty l’il broodmares!” The orc accepted a knife from one of his underlings, and cut the ropes binding Bralin’s limbs. “An’ dis is what’s gonna become a’ da rest’ve ya!”

He began to rebind Bralin in a new position, wrapping a length of rope around each of the dwarf’s hands to keep them clenched into fists. Rezzug forced the dwarf down onto his hands and knees, and completed the ensemble with a bit and reins made of his soiled loincloth wrapped around another length of rope. Bralin let out a gurgling groan as he opened his mouth to accept the dingy cloth, biting down on it and feeling his over-stimulated cock throb at this further degradation.

Rezzug sat atop the dwarf’s back, a perverse parody of a proud knight on his steed, and nodded to the rest of the orcish horde. “Rest n’ clean yer dicks, ‘n den da rest’ve ‘em are yers.” He grinned at the cheering from his men, who were already turning on the rest of the captives with lustful eyes and wide, ravenous smiles, and then reached back to give Bralin’s tenderized ass a firm smack. “You, forward!”
The dwarf captive had no choice but to obey, crawling on his knees and knuckles where the orc directed with a tug of the reins. Once they’d entered one of the huts around the edge of the outpost’s courtyard, Rezzug hopped off of the dwarf’s back and lifted him up into his arms once more. “So, dat what’cha wanted?” He voice grew tender as he pulled the bit from between Bralin’s teeth while cradling the dwarf against his chest.

Bralin spat and worked his jaw, and then nodded while wrapping his still-bound arms around Rezzug’s neck. “Aye, that and more.” He pressed a kiss to Rezzug’s neck, and then scowled at the orc. “Wish your boys didn’t break down the damn gate, though. That’s gonna be a bitch to repair tomorrow.”

“Aye, sorry ‘bout dat.” The orc winced at the heat in his lover’s glare, and hurried to the bed to lay Bralin down. “Dey got a bit o’ereager when I told ‘em dey’d get a chance at’cher cunt. Bitched like babes when I made ‘em march ‘round in dat getup all day, though.”

“It was appreciated. For authenticity’s sake, of course.” Bralin blushed as Rezzug went about untying him, and let out a soft groan as he finally got the chance to stretch his limbs.

“Right, and not ‘cuz yer a slut fer big, sweaty, musk-stinkin’ men.” The orc nuzzled into Bralin’s neck, rubbing his tusks against the dwarf’s throat as he wrapped his body around Bralin’s much smaller one.

Bralin let out a low moan while cradling Rezzug’s head. “Maybe.” His fingers stroked over the orc’s scalp. “Didn’t cost you too much to get that armor from the northern tribes, did it?”

“Nah, nah. Me coinpurse ain’t hurtin’ too bad. How ‘bout you, though? Didn’t hurt’cher bum leg, did I?” Rezzug’s hand moved to the dwarf’s left hip, rubbing his fingertips over the joint with a surprisingly gentle touch for such a massive male.

“Nah, not too bad. I can take a little discomfort. Especially when you and your men make it worth my while.” Bralin’s own hand moved to the orc’s scarred cheek, and he pulled his lover into a kiss; much slower and more passionate than the ones they’d shared during their performance. “Love you, Rezzug.”

“Love ya too, Bralin. Even if y’are a kinky l’il bastard.” Rezzug smiled, and dipped down into yet another kiss with the dwarf.

They could already hear the moaning and cries of pleasure from the rest of the men outside as the cross-species orgy commenced anew. However, the two lovers were content to stay in each others’ arms, stroking each others’ bare bodies and clutching each other in a tight embrace. Rezzug had been hesitant when Bralin had outlined the plan for the ‘raid’ and what would come after—Bralin had justified it by saying that their alliance had made the dwarven outpost lax and ill-prepared for any potential attacks, but the orc knew his mate better than that. And the tent in Bralin’s pants as he spoke had been all evidence Rezzug needed.

However, the orc was glad that he’d gone along with his lover in the end; like the dwarf had said, it had been worth it.

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Pub: 29 Dec 2020 21:50 UTC
Views: 260