First Notch Right - 1. Chapter 1

FIRST NOTCH RIGHT

an Orc yaoi story by Lustful_Orcs

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DESCRIPTION: An Orc is unable to resist his obsession to always up things just one more notch to the danger side, but in a human stable-man he seems to have taken it all one step too far. If you’re destined to be the last notch to the wrong side, who’ll be the first notch on the right side of things? *contains spanking, harsh scenes, sexually explicit, Orc x Human pairing*

DISCLAIMER: This story is quite explicit and is rated Triple X, NC-17 meaning it is suitable for adults only. It contains explicit descriptions dealing with
-homosexual gay sex between males of the same gender- and in addition to that contains scenes that might be regarded as distasteful or even disturbing. Liking or disliking this story or its direct or implied content is in no way indicative of the sexual preference of the reader. All acts take place between consenting adults and are fictional. The writer's sole intent is to provide the reader with an entertaining or even stimulating reading experience. The writer can not be held responsible for anything closely or remotely associated with this story, sentient life or the universe in general. Protected by international copyright laws. This story or parts thereof may be kept, multiplied and printed for personal use or that of single acquaintances at the same time, but may not be quoted or publicized without expressed consent of the writer.

CONTACT: When both polite and constructive, I would love to hear your feedback and story suggestions, so by all means email me at lustful_orcsXhotmail.com where the X ofcourse stands for the @ symbol. If you want to feature my story on your website, please do contact me for my expressed permission.

Buckle up, sit back and enjoy the ride!

lustful_orcs

 

 

 

 

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FIRST NOTCH RIGHT

an Orc yaoi story by Lustful_Orcs

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The sun slowly slid behind a storage barn’s roof, and the heat of the hot summer’s day slowly gave way to the coolness of night. Three big Orcs, their muscular dark green bodies shining with sweat, thumped down the squat wooden barrels they carried onto a four horse cart. They had been moving these barrels all afternoon in the searing heat, barely pausing, determined to get it over with. These noble-featured creatures were young, in the prime of their life, and like most Orc warriors they were powerful musclemen, which helped them when working hard was required.

One of them got back to the large storage barn and returned with the last barrel over his shoulder, thudded it down on the cart and shook the pains from his big tired arms.

The cart-driver snapped his whip and the four horses strained to get their heavy load moving, then the last of the heavily loaded carts slowly rode off.

There they stood, exhausted panting Orcboars, dripping with the sweat of their labour, satisfied with the mountain they had moved that day. The huemon trader walked up to them and looked them over in admiration.

“Will ye just –look- at you! The three o’ you cleared out m’ whole storage in a single af’ernoon. If I round up six men it would be two full days but you Orcs just spit in your hands and get it done for me, no whining o’ slacking! I am so impressed with the three o’ yu’s!” The elderly trader had lived in some port city years ago before moving to Hindevelt and still spoke in a lively dockworker’s tongue, cutting words short and flattening them out talking with clear emphasis to parts of his words, making him a hard to follow but pleasant speaker. He had the gold, tons of it, but always retained the simple dockworker mentality which the Orcs admired, since big money all to often put people apart from the simple life.

The Orcs grinned shyly upon hearing his kind words. Sure, an Orc could pick up a job here and there in the huemon city of Hindevelt, but being met with friendliness and actually being appreciated for their hard work was quite rare, as huemons all too often disliked all who came from the Valley, Dwarf and Orc alike.

“One-hundred a’ forty barrels of cabbage-in-sou’r in a single af’ernoon, five cartloads, fohteen thousa’ pounds of sauerkraut carried off before dusk. Well I’m going green from now on and that’s all there is to it! No more slackers on my time! Hey come in, the wife’s got nine pounds o’ pohk with yow names o’ it!”

The green ones exchanged satisfied grins. Free grub too.. They rubbed their bodies and shook the sweat off their hands, then followed the trader into his house. In the kitchen the trader’s wife was stirring the meat chunks in a big frying pan. The Orcs tried to not flinch at the smell of the cabbage-in-sour stirred into their grub that would be so yummy without it. Chopping up white cabbage, mixing it with salt and letting it rot for months in barrels.
What a nasty huemon thing to do to a meal, but since this nastiness was the trader’s own produce they’d be good Orcs and only comment on the edibles in the dish.

The trader’s wife smilingly leered at the three of them while stirring the pot. Three big Orcs in the sweats, bulging with shiny green muscle and wearing nothing but loincloths with a front flap only, the soft greasy leather hinting on big packages and when they turned their rounded backsides were in plain view. Now a decent women ought not look at Orcs like that but these beefy virile creatures, clad in little more then shiny green skin were a feast to her eyes. Strong and savage as they were with their tusks and piercing green eyes nonetheless these so-called monsters were far more decent and ten times the man the so-called nobility was with their posh arrogance and their pouches fat with the coins of the poor. That shy-looking cute one, she’d like some chitchat over dinner to see how shy he’d really be when all alone with her. Orcs.. everybody knew they were strangers to shame and driven by lust..
So unlike her husband…

Oclac nervously played with the ragged fringes of his loincloth.

“Orcs: me tired, me no lie on it. Me thinks me go snoring early tonight and no spend coins on chugging..” The other two Orcs showed their fangs in wide grins. Tired. Yeah, right..

The trader’s wife slammed the heavy kettle on the table and squeezed between the sitting Orcs to fill their bowls, leaning over in teasing indiscretion. The Orcs had no eyes for her naughtiness but held on to the tabletop, overwhelmed by the stench of the rotted vegetables poured right under their snouts.

“Well Orcs, does my cooking look good to you?”

“Ufff! It strong.. It looking yumyum and me likes you using lots of spices. Pork be just right too. It go be delicious, it –has- to.” Oclac politely squeezed it out of his throat and even when breathing through his mouth only the acridness itched their airways. Courageous Orc Warriors as they were they forked up the rotten cabbage and worked the sour nastiness up their gullets.

“Hmm! It good grub! Me never –uff- tasted anything like it..” This was no lie. It was only the warm friendliness of their huemon hosts that made them go near it, let alone eat the stuff. Oclac was afraid to belch, not weary to offend but rather to not hurl up all that sour cabbage he had managed to work his way through yet.

“Humm.. Lady be having bonnetpeppers?” Okath inquired and their hostess smiled.

“I’ve go’ ground Devil’s Fingers, they’re not quite as hot but still quite fierce. Here ye go..” Okath took the jar and liberally sprinkled the hot pepper over their polluted meal.

“Wow that’s a lot! Cayya even taste the food through that blaze?” Immediately Oclac lifted the jar of peppers off of his friend and sprinkled his plate, with Ork taking a big pinch from it while he held it.

“Orcs be having strong sense of taste, we go and be tasting yummy food Lady made…” Oooff! The fiery burn proved a good distraction of the stew’s general unpalatable-ness and they might keep it in too. The lady smiled in pride over her universally liked cooking.

“Orcs: I’m grateful for what you’ve done here. We settled on two bronze and a copper for each, but I’m doubling it up because you not just promised you’d get it done before dusk, but you actually did it and that’s quite rare as folks go. Now I’ve got a friend who is quite famous for ‘is high-class ores and he needs some strong guys to handle ‘em..” The three Orcs spat their unsavoury meal into their bowls in shock. What?!

The trader looked at their surprised reactions.

“Ores! You Orcs mus’ know ores!” The Orcs nodded and ate on. Indeed they knew some, a strange huemon custom, just like many things they did not grasp.
“We’ll he’s go’a shed full o’ ores and he needs them on carts. Now they are –crude- you see, so they’ll need quite some banging to make good sacks.” Oclac looked at his friends. How strange these huemons were… You crack a joke and they say you’re rude and then this!
“Now bangin’ ores for sacks is hard work but I saw you’re quite good at working hard so shall I send word that I’ve got some fine Orcs to work his ores? I bet he’d be thrilled if he sees you filling ‘em up and give him some good sacks to brag about!”

The Orcs looked at each other in silent query. They nodded and shrugged their shoulders. It was not their thing at all so they’d better sleep on it.

“Us Orcs need time to think on it.” Ork decided and they finished forking up the unsavoury meal, managing to actually convince their hostess they had liked the huemon food. The trader smiled and handed them their double pay.

“Hey thanks for helping me out Orcs! If you’d like to let’s meet tomorrow about those ores..” They exchanged some chitchat with the trader and his remarkably friendly wife and left.

The night air was cool and a gentle breeze stroked their green skin. Their stomachs were with them and swiftly crammed their filthy stuffing down their entrails making the ill feeling pass and feeding their now heavy bodies. Oclac hesitantly said:

“Me.. me tired Orc… Me go snoring now to be fit in morning..” His friends roared with laughter and hugged him from both sides, nuzzling him with their ringed snouts.

“Oclac be Orc of lieeees! Orc no go sleep.. Orc go do playings with mean huemon!”
Orkath teased and tickled his friend making him twitch with joy. Ork sobered up.

“Why Orc go do playings of stable-man Vozall? He no fun huemon and he no even try.” He rubbed his friend’s shoulder and pressed him to his chest.
“Now Fotar be owner of stables and he one that lets Orcs bunk down there. You no need do playings of mean huemon stable-man. He bad playings and that me say.”
Oclac grimaced shyly.

“Me likes playings of him. Me knows it look bad but.. me do. He not –all- bad like seems..” Okath hugged them both, nuzzling left and right.

“It great you Ork go be protecting but if Oclac likes then Oclac do. It be life of Oclac not of Ork. But Oclac go promise us he no let huemon do tyings. Me no trust huemon for that.” Oclac nodded. There was sense in his friend’s words. With a growl the three-Orc hug got as tight as their near-naked bodies could get and they growled in excitement, as Okath and Ork had plans for the night and Oclac had chosen what he liked best.
“We go be –very- late!” Okath winked .
“Orc look out for self..” Ork warned, eternally protective of his smaller friend Oclac. They parted with a roar that startled the huemons as it echoed through the streets.

A disturbing mixture of emotions crawled through Oclac’s tummy as he approached the stables where they spent the nights. Huemon taverns only rarely gave Orcs lodging and were frighteningly expensive for an Orc working for bronze and copper. The Ritdent Orc Tribe had quarters and a tavern in the huemon city too, but these were strictly for Orc Army men.
All sorts of mixed emotions grew stronger and stronger inside of the young Orc. There was no way he could totally say yes to this huemon Vozall, but it certainly wasn’t a total no either. He felt strong emotions, but the arousal was mixed with fears and uncertainty.

Okath had been right.
Oclac would not let himself get tied up by this huemon, in fact his instincts clearly warned against even going to sleep when alone with him.

Oclac gulped as he stood in front of the stable doors. Things would only go as far as he would let them, he should not forget that.

He nodded and knocked on the pinewood.

“Damn!” Vozall cursed from the bowels of the stables as he walked up to the doors. He slammed the big latch aside and pushed open a door. There he stood. The huemon stable-man was almost a foot shorter then Oclac and wore a huemon horseman’s outfit that had paled and lost its looks long ago. He was slender of build, perhaps not so for a huemon, and his eyes piercingly gazed at the Orc he faced in clear contempt.

“Its you.” He spoke coldly. He looked the Orc over like a sickly horse and grimaced.
“You stink of pig. And the rest of the lot?”

“Errr.. They.. they be away for most of night. They out chugging.” Oclac almost whispered. Vozall repressed a grin that held no kindness at all.

“Away for the night. So it’s me and the pig again. In.” Oclac passed the huemon who slammed the stable door shut behind him and smacked the wooden latch-beam closed.

Oclac shivered in what was mostly fear, but with quite some arousal too.
He liked the rough playings of Orcs and the deliciously cruel games of Dwarves, as with Orcs and the Dwarves of Rigorai Mountain it was always clear there were lines not to be crossed.

With huemons, and especially Vozall, he was not sure -when- lines were crossed.
With huemons, and especially Vozall, even the dividing line between earnest and playings was quite hard to distinguish. He would not be tied. Oh no. Not by him.

“Night in the stables. Me, the animals.. and a beast.” He walked up to Oclac with an unyielding gaze, seemingly oblivious to his own lack of strength and fighting skills.
“A filthy beast. A green beast that would frighten the pigs in a sty.” Oclac shrivelled and the huemon stable-man smiled cruelly.
“What are you?” Oclac gulped, being jumped like this by Vozall even upon entering.
“I’ve trained you to say it. WHAT ARE YOU?” Oclac looked down and yielded.

“Orc be dirty beast. Orc be dumb. Orc needs shown. Orc needs told. Orc dumb beast.” Vozall pulled a riding crop from under his belt and made it snap in mid-air.

“Now this was a fine horsewhip. But now it’s my Orcwhip. You know the bite of it don’t you?” Oclac nodded. Vozall never whipped to tease. In fact he barely avoided to mark.
“You know you’re going to taste it tonight, don’t you?” Oclac flinched.
“WELL?”

“Orc beast go get punish tonight. Orc gets taught he be dumb beast.”

“Well put... Beast: on-your-knees.” Oclac bowed his head and got on his knees in front of the huemon. This was nothing like Orcs playing or Dwarvish games. This was scary.

“Just –look- at you..” The same words a huemon spoke to him earlier that day, but the way they were spoken couldn’t be further from the praise of the trader.
“A filthy beast that’s eager to get on his knees. You want it, don’t you green pig? You want your lesson taught.” Oclac pinched his eyes shut, consumed by mixed emotions.

“Dirty Orc needs taught he dumb beast.”

“Now what’s wrong with this picture?” Oclac saw them as if from a distance. Him, a big proud Orc, genuinely scared on his knees before a gangling huemon with a whip. He could not begin to think about what was –not- wrong with that picture, but Vozall filled in the blanks.

“Orcs are filthy beasts. Beasts. Don’t mock me and take that loincloth off! You have no business wearing anything not of use to me.” He smacked the thong at the end of his whip against Oclac’s leather loincloth.
“Off!”

Oclac hesitantly pulled his belt and laid his loincloth beside him. He now sat there naked on his knees, his soft Orctail in plain view of the cruel huemon. His arousal was matched by his fright, keeping his green tail soft between his legs.

“Now look at that. An Orc’s brain. It doesn’t look like the centre of the universe now does it? You beasts walk around all day poking it in every hole that fits.. Which brings us to this…” Vozall walked away to a corner and back again, dragging a big black leather Orc Army saddle behind him. He let go of it, leaving it in the middle of the room in plain view of Oclac and slapped the greasy leather with his whip.

“You remember what -this- is for, don’t you Orc?” Oclac knew.
He knew all too well. His balls tingled with a fear highly exciting to him.
“Many Orcs know how I use this on them. You boars need your lessons taught the way you understand them. You disgusting beasts are far too eager to be taught your lessons by me.”

Oclac shivered. He had to admit to himself he really was, which was pretty disturbing in itself. Vozall walked up to him making Oclac startle in shock.

“Orcs everywhere, walking around all nude in their bare butts across town with what you dare to call loincloths. And all you think about is this…” he started prodding Oclac’s Orctail with his riding crop, not at all to please.
“..always wanting to stick it in, stick it where it –doesn’t belong-, always thinking lust, lust, lust and not a decent thought in there. I can hear you beasts at night, you know? The moaning and whispers and the sounds that I won’t even talk of.. And all right under my nose. Because I smell it.. You beasts smell when you’re doing it.. The whole stables reek of your filth when you’ve been doing those disgusting things you do..”

Oclac could not help but become very aroused by this huemon’s ranting on the lewdness of his kind, and he could indeed still smell the Orc musks of the pleasures the three Orcs had shared the night before. And while the huemon’s piercing eyes and hypnotizing spoken humiliations demanded all Oclac’s attention, his Orctail and balls were poked and prodded with a whip soon to be used on him.

“Disgusting beasts… Every night I am sitting here listening here to filthy beasts manhandling each other while I breathe your stink. Every bunch of Orc beasts bunking down here have been groping each other for hours.. Every night of the fucking year.. Don’t you see that won’t do, ya dumb green beast?” Oclac wondered whether the furious huemon heard himself talking. He got distracted by the stable-man’s firm prodding with the riding crop’s thin rod and tickling of the whipping thong attached to it, but hastily nodded.
“All the time you’re doing your filthy things but now I’ll teach you your lesson. Again. The beast will be taught his lesson. I’ll show you how filthy and disgusting you beasts are and-”

Oclac could not help it. He simply could not help all this talk of play and prodding was making his green tail swell despite his fear, and now Vozall had noticed it.

“What… Is… That?” he growled ominously and stared at the big green Orctail that was pumping up larger and larger in front of his disgusted eyes.
“You filthy -beast-” his words bit like a whip,
“Spread your knees and show what a disgusting beast you are..” Oclac hissed in humiliation.
“Look at it! Look at your beastly thing coming up even now. Even NOW !” Oclac had to sit knees-wide and show the mean huemon how his Orctail firmed up while being reviled.
“You lewd, disgusting beast. You like all this don’t you? All that Orc seed has made you so crazed you’re getting hot right here. Look at yourself! I’m telling you how filthy you are and there you sit on your knees with your beastly thing throbbing. Well I’m going to watch you humiliate yourself by throbbing that monster thing in front of me. Just –look- at you…”

Oclac could do nothing but let himself be watched and ridiculed and he blushed dark green in embarrassment while his Orctail shamelessly grew to full hardness, its green skin pulling back revealing his bright red glans, shining with some slimes oozing from it.

And so the Orc sat there in shame for minutes, the huemon stable-man calmly walking around him, looking at him from all sides, prodding him with his whip and cruelly humiliating the kneeling Orc with his hard and dripping Orctail showing how lewd a creature he really was.

Oclac noticed Vozall needed more breath like him, and more then mere spite would call for. He did not get much time to ponder this as the huemon whip-prodded his swollen Orctail.
“Vile, disgusting, horny beast. On his knees with a huge –thing- and quite happy about it..” Vozall tapped the side of Oclac’s eager Orctail quite hard, making him flinch.

“You know I will punish you for this, don’t you?” Oclac nodded.
“You want it, don’t you filthy beast? You’re eager to get your punishment because you know you deserve it. Say it.” Vozall prodded Oclac’s stiff Orctail until he got an answer.

The poor Orc almost cried by the humiliation of it and whimpered in anguish:

“Me.. Me filthy beast wants my punish...” Vozall cruelly grinned he got the Orc to say that.

“Well, well, well… The filthy green beast begs me to give him the punishment he deserves. And you know how Orcs like you get their punishments here, don’t you?”
Oclac pinched his eyes shut and nodded humbly. He knew very well what would happen now.

He could still feel the burn from yesterday’s punishments.

“Yes you remember –that- don’t you? I can see you do. Now be a good beast and show me what you’ve learned.”

Oclac pinched his eyes shut and shivered. He got on his hands and knees and crawled past the huemon towards the Orc Army saddle. He knelt beside it and Vozall approached.

“Beast!” the stable-man commanded and Oclac bent over the big saddle. On his knees, chest on the cobbles and his rump pushed up by the saddle he was ready to take his punishment.

“I’m going to teach the filthy beast his Orc-lesson now. You’re quite excited, aren’t you?” Oclac gave a terrified squeak. He trembled with fear and anticipation of what would follow.

“I bet you are. It’s Orcish to like that. Well you’ll be all joy now, I promise. You’ll get twenty-five on the rump for showing me that thing of yours, oink or squeal and its fifty.”

Oclac clenched his teeth and fists and squeezed his eyes shut. Lying over the high saddle he could not help but offer his rump in the most humiliating whipping position imaginable.

Immediately the whip snapped and a shock shot through his naked green body. He braced for all his worth but was given no time as the whip’s thong crackled over his bulging green rump with merciless force. The fierce snapping went on and on undiminished until all were dealt.

The huemon walked around the lying Orc, who had gotten wet with sweats of pain and excitement. He stepped in front of the moaning Orc.

“Orc: you buck well under my whip and not an oink out of you.. UP !” out of an instinct whipped into him Oclac sat up. His slimes had wetted the saddle and his Orctail was still every bit as hard as before.

“All you Orcs do is poke that thing where it doesn’t belong. And I bet you wanted to poke it onto one of your beast friends later tonight. Weren’t you?” Oclac reluctantly nodded.
“Orc.. Always got that seed on your mind, don’t you? Always looking to get that itchy goo out, aren’t you? Aren’t you?” with a soft squeak and tears flowing Oclac nodded.
“Well I will make sure you won’t have any to craze them with. Tug yourself!”

Reluctantly Oclac took hold of his all too willing Orctail and started tugging it, squirting slimes all over the Orc Army saddle that had found new use in Orc-punishing. After Oclac’s first punishment Vozall had notched the rim of the saddle to the left of its pommel, and a mere glance revealed that over three dozen Orcs had been punished by Vozall before him, and likely were forced to tug themselves for the stable-man too. For someone disliking Orcs Vozall took remarkable pleasure in punishing them and let no moment alone with Oclac pass without at least treading the barefoot Orc’s toes to hear him whimper..

“I said tug it don’t play with it!” Oclac hastened his handiwork and clenched his teeth to be seen squirting as much slimes as eagerly as he did. It was incredibly humiliating and despite the very real contempt the huemon so clearly showed it was very arousing to the naked Orc.

“One squirt vile beast..” Vozall hissed, now clearly panting,
“One squirt missed and I’ll make you lick each and every cobble of the stable floor.. Tug it!” Oclac briskly tugged himself, but showed too much eagerness in doing so.

The thong of Vozall’s whip smacked across the soles of Oclac’s feet who shrieked and shot up a bit. Vozall used this startle to smack it across the Orc’s bulging green buttocks.

“Come on beast: spout me some! Tug it for me! Harder!” Vozall augmented his humiliating orders with fierce well-aimed whip snaps, keeping the Orc from resting his rump on his heels again and making him tug it for all his worth. Oclac panted and moaned and tears shot from his eyes whenever the whip hit him as hard as it did.
“Where’s your Orc seed now? Spout! Spout!” Oclac tugged and tugged and soon he could no longer contain it. He lifted his head and snarling in heat he shot thick jets of white Orc seed over the black leather saddle. Lightning shot through his body and he let go as far as he dared.

Vozall watched him and just when the jets receded and the Orc wanted to sit back he whipped Oclac’s rump again to get him up and obedient.
“Keep -tugging- it! I’ll have the last drop out of you! Tug! Tug up a nice big puddle for me!” Forced by fierce, cruelly aimed whip snaps Oclac had to milk his Orctail for the huemon, making his seed shoot way beyond his desires.

“Mercy on Orc!” he pleaded, but pleading only made for louder whip snaps.

“Tug it! I’ll have you milk it till you’re dry! TUG!” Moaning in anguish Oclac had to obey, having spouted a small mug-full he was forced to keep spouting until he finally collapsed , his tummy smacking on the wet, slimy saddle, falling unconscious.

Vozall now wildly whipped the Orc’s rump until he awoke moaning.
“Keep tugging it filthy beast! Tug it or I’ll make you REAL sorry!”
Oclac dizzily sat up and tugged his half-hard Orctail again that betrayed him by immediately firming up in virile response. Oclac’s tummy was all wet and dripping with his own seed and yet the huemon’s whip demanded more out of him. Oclac could do nothing but obey and still dazed he was beyond liking or disliking until his fog cleared as orgasm approached.

“Yeah yer going again aren’t you? Yer going to spout me more Orc goo! SPOUT !!”
Oclac cried out by the fierce lash, the cry broke in his throat as lightning of lust shot through his body and he his seed gushed out of his Orctail again. But now Vozall’s whip smacked his buttocks over and over, harder then ever, while Oclac now spouted water-white slimes as the seed had been milked from his Orctail. Suddenly the whipping stopped.
Torn between agony and thrill he looked up.

He saw Vozall gasping for air and grimacing in what seemed like pure pleasure. It became clear to him why when he saw a small wet spot form in the grayish pants of the huemon, who staggered back and had to regain himself.

Oclac let himself come to breath and tried to make sense of the obvious.

As Vozall came to the joy slid from his face.
“What.. what are you looking at, beast?” he sounded every bit as vicious, but knew that the Orc had seen it all. How could this have happened? To him? He drew a forceful breath.
“IF YOU..” he sighed and left the words unspoken.
“Orc, I…” he started, void of all hostility, but swallowed his words and shook his head.

“Me no Orc tell..” Oclac volunteered and Vozall looked at him in disgust.

“The filthy beast is going to lick all his slimes off that saddle and the floor.” Vozall was cold and cruel again. Oclac started licking up his seed and slimes, first from the cobblestones and then from the Orc Army saddle that held many rich flavours and scents, all quite arousing to him. He knew Vozall was watching him but the humiliation of it was mixed with feelings he could not make sense of. A bit sad the Orc now –hoped- that Vozall enjoyed the sight of his chore, because he now got the eerie feeling Vozall was cruel to him without allowing himself to enjoy it, an idea too twisted for Oclac to grasp.

When he was ready he sat up. Vozall sternly pointed to the floor and he quickly looked down. The end of it always was that Vozall demanded to know what he had learned, and him saying he had learned he was a filthy green beast. But it never came.

“Orc: to your stablebox and stay there. Do –not- make me whip you now. Go.”
Oclac fetched his loincloth and crawled to the stablebox on hands and knees. Reflected in a steel saddle-buckle he saw Vozall stare after him with mixed emotions, all of them so bad it really scared Oclac like never before. He needed to regain a balance in things. When at the stablebox door Oclac cast a quick glance back.

Vozall stared at him with a gaze torn by unhappiness.

Oclac dashed into the stablebox. His rump ablaze with lashes, some of which would be seen on him the next morning he lay down on his tummy in the straw, head on his arms, coming to and thinking about all that had happened and what kind of game this really was.

He had been good obeyings and Vozall had not gone too far as he saw it. He now was certain the huemon liked whipping him as much as Oclac liked ‘bucking on the saddle’ like Vozall called it. Oww.. If only Vozall whipped him to tears and then unbuckle to give it to him the other way. That would be very clear to both and it could not be that the thought of whipping a big Orc to submission and then savagely rumping him as he lay there in sweats hadn’t occurred to Vozall. If you passionately whip naked Orcs to tug it for you and seed your pants at the sight of them that really ought to tell you something…
He smiled. Vozall seemed to feel bad the Orc had caught the huemon liking it like he did. Huemons play odd games… Liking and not liking and playing to not like. Vozall spat on Orcs, but pure dislike never made fragrant wet spots in pants as far as he could imagine so perhaps the huemon was playing such clever games he was tricking himself too.

He startled as he suddenly saw Vozall standing in front of him and looked up in apprehension.
“Orc: either you leave by day or I’m going to really punish you tomorrow night. It’s your choice, I couldn’t care less but my whip likes you.” Vozall turned and walked away in anger. Cold, loveless words, but not without meaning. He pondered them for quite some time.

The stable doors were rudely banged upon and a familiar roar sounded. The latch was shoved aside and the stable door creaked open.

“Need I remind you two it is –night- and people want to –sleep-? Shut up or shove off.” A soft ominous growl rumbled through the stables.

“Me hopes you did not go and hurt Orc..” Oclac smiled. Ork, protecting him as always. Vozall mumbled something even Orcish ears couldn’t catch and the latch was shut. Bare feet slapping on the cobblestones, Vozall’s boots did not follow.

He looked up, right into the ivory grins of his two green buddies.
“Orrrrc! Oooww that rump looking ouchie! You baaaad obeyings!” RitOrx, a language no huemon ever bothered to learn.

“Hech-eh! Me getting goood in bad obeyings!”

“Me knows huemon missed a spot or you no laugh on it!” Oclac thought but gave up.
“Orcfeet of Oclac be ticklisssh! And now you –go- be obeyings!”

Oclac got jumped and tickled by both Orcs and when they were satisfied with his defeat the three of them soon merged in a cuddlepile of lovemaking Orcs, caressing and licking and fondling each other with playful snarls and teasing bites. Later they fell into a deep sleep, still under and on top of each other, a cuddlepile moved by their breathing as the big Orcs snored in unison.

Vozall looked at them from behind the stablebox door.
Disgusting! Such filthy creatures, every day, over and over, never enough. He looked at their strong naked bodies, green and shiny with sweat and.. that stench, that fuckbeast stench!

How he would love it if all those green monsters were taken by magic and swept off the earth.
How he would love to join in on their loveplay and cuddle up carefree without fear or spite.

He stood there motionless gazing upon the sleeping Orcs, but the sight of them hurt his eyes and he went to check on his horses. Oclac closed his eyes and softly bit his lip. Huemons.. Too smart to remember life really is about the dumb things!

Safe in the cuddlepile of his naked warrior friends he let sleep overcome him and dreamt sweet Orc dreams of pleasure and pain.

-----

“Hmmm.. mmmmhh..” Oclac moaned and slowly squirmed as he was gently teased out of his sleep. He opened his eyes and saw his friends sat at his sides and gently tickled his skin with the sharp points of their clawnails.
“Uhmmm.. mmm..” Oclac moaned, but his waking up did nothing to stop his friends from delightfully teasing his naked Orc body by softly tickling his sensitive belly, tracing the bumps of his spine with their clawnails, squeezing and rubbing the tips of his ears, fondling and pulling his snoutring and other such things that would awaken any Orc in the finest of moods.

“Clackie go spread legs for buddies..” Ork teased and breathtakingly gently fondled Oclac’s Orcballs with his soft, smooth fingertips, while taking hold of his friend’s snoutring and teasingly pulling it and giving sharp tugs that made Oclac shiver in delight.

“Clackie go spread legs wiiide for buddies or buddies go tickle and make Orc all crazy!” Oclac eagerly spread his legs, pleasantly surprised by this Orcish wakening. Okath slid his hand between Oclac’s legs and seized his sac from behind. Ork took hold of the soft Orctail and started kneading and stretching the flexible meat of his barely awoken friend.
“If ‘clackie get hard he gets tickles till he fall faint!”
Oclac grinned shyly. It wouldn’t be the first time and certainly not the last! The last Orc sleeping would awaken in trouble, and what delicious trouble it was!

“Does ‘clackie need to go pissing ?” Ork gently inquired and teasingly fondled and stroked Oclac’s lower tummy who got hit by an until then unnoticed urge to do just that.

“oooff! No tickle Orc there! Me needs go baaad...” It’s always worthwhile to notice the first words one speaks in a day. For some it’s a greeting, a kiss and pillow talk or even a swearword for having slept too long, but Oclac’s day started with his best Orc buddies trying to tickle the piss out of him.

“ummmhh.. me needs go baaad..” Oclac protested as he knew his friends would not hesitate to take it all the way and make him pee himself because they knew embarrassments excited him. Ork drew near and bit his earlobe just right to make him shiver in delight.

“Orc no go.. it early before rooster and it cold still.. Cold no good wakie for Orc! Me go help Orc buddy out!” Ork bent over to his side and started suckling Oclac’s soft tail in encouragement. Oclac grinned. So that was behind it! Ork was just thirsty and didn’t want to drink from the rain barrel in the chilly morning air, and had acquired a taste for drinking a cuddlepile buddy in the morning like most Orc Army grunts who had served for years.

Oclac sighed and let go, and with an appreciative purr his big friend drank his morning juices. Two birds with one stone: He could lie there on the warm straw waking up with Okath stroking him and his friend needn’t get up for a drink either.

“Me gots grub if you like it, too!” Oclac mocked and got bit on the tail for his crude joke as a morning drink is good and well among Orcs, but even a former Orc Army grunt like Ork had some personal limits left to him. Ork sucked and drew his head back, making Oclac’s tail stretch and then slip from his mouth with a wet pop.

“Cabbage..” he growled in displeasure, but then he was all over his buddies again and the three Orcs hugged, licked and fondled for quite some time, letting moans and groans do the talking that words could not express.

“Hmmmhh.. Orcs thought ‘bout proposition of huemon trader yet?” Okath sighed.

“Nasty huemons, keeping whores in a shed. Keeping whores at all! Huemons weird.” His friends exchanged nuzzles with him in agreement.

“Me no feel like it too! Poking huemons be tight fit, but when they say whores they mean wombmen.”

“They no respect! Me feels like smacking up that friend of trader for making rudes with wombmen. They’d try that on Orc! She’d show them respect!” Okath nodded.

“Me no think trader be like that. He huemon, that true, but me knows he no let that happen. Me thinks we misunderstand funnytalk of port-town he coming from.”

“Banging whores for sex.. Me no think we –can- misunderstand! But it true it not sound like good huemon he be, so it must be wrong talkings somewhere. Since his talkings be all crooked and hard to understand me thinks he said wrong! Me say we go see and try understand funny crooked-speak of huemon. If he go live here he best learn speak like local…” they nodded in agreement. The middle-aged trader was a pleasant speaker, it just was hard to make sense of his words at times.

“Oooff.. Orc got runs!” Okath groaned and clutched his tummy, gripped by a spasm.

“When me say me needed go me no just talking drink of Ork!”

“Nasty rotted cabbage! They so kind but stir veggie-puke through the pork and serve it to yous. Me gots runs too, guess we strap on loincloth and go shiver little!” Orc complained, but then got back to his usual Orcish merriness.

Ha slapped Okath and Oclac on their tummies, got up and strapped a greasy, ragged leather loincloth on. Oclac immediately dashed for another smelly Orc-cloth like a cat jumps a mouse.

“Warrg!” Okath growled in resentment,
“Me got the new one again! Me never gets to wear the greasy ones!” Oclac took a small ragged piece of the thin leather flap of the loincloth that was his for the day and tore it off with little effort. He dangled it in front of his friend, then threw it up, caught it in his mouth and started chewing with a mean grin.

“When it itchy you need spread legs real wide and grope sac good every time it do itchies!”

“That no help!”

“No, but we like see you Orc do that for us all day!” When Ork agreed to this Okath led them out of the stablebox.

At his table Vozall the stable-man piercingly looked at them with a coldness and contempt that chilled the three of them. Oclac noticed Vozall’s riding crop lay across the table and upon seeing the flexible rod with the short whipping-thong he remembered the choice forced on him the night before. Either leave, or come alone at night for the Orc-punishment of a lifetime. His rump was still glowing and tingly from yesterday’s whipping. His breath froze as Vozall ignored his friends and looked directly at him just when he rubbed his fiery rump.

“Filthy.”

Each greets the early morning with another word. For Oclac, it had been words of pleasure, but the huemon stable-man clearly spent his night without sleep’s sweet oblivion or the mood of Orcs cuddling up. Oclac squeaked clumsily:

“-uh- Good morning Vozall sir..” The stable-man snorted in contempt. With his sharp, piercing, hateful voice the huemon slowly said:

“Morning’s when the rooster’s yapped. So it’s still night and I’m still here. I’m always here at night. I will be here the coming night. Will you be here the coming night.. Orc?” Oclac shivered by the way Vozall spoke the name of his kind. Orc. As warm and as fulfilling a word it was, Vozall buried it under tons of ice and frost, now more then before.

There was an understanding between them. Not the understanding of friends or kinsmen, but more like that between a torturer and his captive. Oclac was by no means strapped to a bench, but strapped down he was, shackled by his innocent curiosity and that disturbingly arousing mixture of fear and excitement.

“Beast!” Vozall demanded sharply and threw his head up in defiance.

To his right, Ork started a thundering growl that boomed through the stables and awoke some horses, and with increasing vigour he took in more and more air in mounting anger.
Without looking Oclac flung his arm out to his right thumping it hard into Ork’s chest. Among huemons this would precede a punch or fight, but among Orcs this was merely a way to silence a companion.

Ork swallowed his anger.

Vozall smiled cruelly seeing his training and punishing of this Orc had taken hold.

“This is between -me- and the -beast- so stay out or get out.” The huemon slowly said and Okath and Ork accepted. Indeed this was clearly something between their friend and the nasty huemon. And since Oclac was his own man and if needed could break as many huemon ribs as could fit a blow of his huge green fist, it was not for them to intervene. They knew Oclac liked it rough, so rough in fact that they had yet to find their buddy’s limits, but this Vozall easily crossed theirs with words alone.

Vozall took his riding crop and played with it a little. Then he smacked it onto the tabletop.

“Well ?!”

Oclac gulped. In front of his friends.. He looked down and let his shoulders droop. He couldn’t hide it as a secret, because Ork and Okath knew his tastes all too well. He sighed.

“Me Orc beast will get big punish and gets shown and told tonight…”

A painful silence. Vozall was stunned Oclac told it like that standing beside his big strong friends but he saw they accepted their friend’s grovelling and a cruel grin grew and made him show more teeth then a huemon should.

“Good. So the two of… you.. can chug down a keg for all I care, because I’m taking my night shift to teach this beast some lessons.”

Ork resisted his strong urge to grab the hateful huemon by his collar and belt and dunk him into the manure pit outside and instead checked up on his friend.

When his glance revealed movement under Oclac’s greasy shammy-like loincloth he closed his eyes, sighed and let it go. He nodded. His muckyshits and the cramping of his bowels fighting the rotten cabbage was nothing compared with the gush of bad feelings he got from this Vozall. Oh he’d hug and forgive that huemon in a heartbeat like any Orc would if it turned out it was all just play, but he saw nothing but a stable-man taking a dump on his friend, the three of them and their Orcish kind itself, in a mix of vile hatred held back by the fears of a vicious coward.

Oh Oclac would get his games out of this one, and then some, just as long as he didn’t let the hateful huemonster tie him up.

He and Vozall had an understanding of sorts too, and he knew Vozall understood full well that a brick wall couldn’t keep Ork away if Vozall would really hurt his smaller friend Oclac.

Ork would forgive Vozall all crude remarks if he saw light in the darkness, but until now he saw nothing then that pains taken in the past were now dealt, but saw not a shred of love accompanying it.
Vozall was dangerous.

Ork walked past Vozall and threw open the wooden latch beam, put his foot to the stable door and pushed it open. Right at that moment a rooster announced the sun had arrived. Ork smiled.
“Early morning cock! Orc likes getting up for early morning cock!” Something nasal was mumbled behind them as they walked around the stables and squatted down in a circle.

“Me Orc thinks we just go to trader and ask if he tell what be job, but not talk crooked so we understand.”

“Me too..” sighed Okath in consent and groaned.

“If go eating we no take rotten cabbage-in-sour..” Oclac hissed, then growled in discontent.
“Warrg! Muckyshits splashed on feet of Orc…”
Ork had thought ahead and had squatted with his feet far apart wisely followed by his friends.

“Oww it no shits it stink of cabbage! Huemon cooking be nasty!”

“Trader and wife be kind peoples and four bronze and two copperpieces be good coins for afternoon. Affffhh! Me finished already: it –that- bad!” Ork grabbed a handful of dewy grass and brushed his backside with it, then got up. Minutes later the Orcs left for some food, and stumbled on a tavern called the Silver Dragon Inn.

“Good morning to huemon! Waxing it me sees?” Ork greeted the innkeeper who was vigorously rubbing a tabletop with a cloth. He stopped and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Orcs! You –are- Valley Orcs and not from up yonder ?” Okath grinned and tapped his goldbrass snoutring, alerting the innkeeper to their colour.

“If us be Steelrings you be flat on table now singing huemon kiddie songs! Wah-hah! No we be Gold Rits, you be right on that!” The innkeeper apparently either did not get the joke or disliked the thought of being had by three wild Orcs on his freshly polished table.

“You and your sects! You could be Kogorads or Kingfisher Orcs or God knows which holes you’ll crawl out of next. Now what’s with those rings?”

Oclac shrugged. He tapped his snoutring.
“Snoutring be gold, you go and be old, snoutring be steel and the danger be real. Steelrings be wild Orcs, they no had rite of passage so they be ferals and they be ruuude.”

“So steel rings make Orcs worse? Rude?”

“You got no ring and you be rude.” The innkeeper nodded. True. Blunt, but true. He wasn’t fond of Orcs but having raked in over eight goldpieces last night, with Orcs drinking almost two gold of the soured stale beer no one wanted at a mug’s price per pitcher, he ought not complain and spoil his mood.

“Look if they get rough can I stick ‘em like I do with the rest of you guys?” Okath shrugged his shoulders and made the universal face of cluelessness.

“When you Orcs get piss drunk and take it too far I get my stick and smack some muscles. Now you Orcs wear next to nothing and got huge muscles everywhere so with a thin stick like mine you can always cramp one up that’s huge. Hurts a lot but you Orcs sober up and you Rits, especially Orc Army Rits, let me actually do that and then either step down or get out. Kingfisher Delta Orcs too, no problem most of the time. Now you green gents –I’m sorry- give me lots of headaches sober and ten times that when you’re drunk, but I got to hand it to you as a kind: Drunk as you may be you slug each other but not a finger on the humans.

When an Orc goes wild as a bear I smack him sober and I actually get respect for running the place, or the other Orcs take over from there. Now that’s good, human drunks pull knives or get vicious but you Rits and Kingers can be tall as a mountain and roaring and foaming with anger but I can smack you sober –and I see it hurts- and you listen up and let me get away with that and the shit stops right there. Big thumbs up for the Kingers and you Rits, you know you’re strong as bulls but you respect us humans, well, more then we do you. First class.

Now Kogo Orcs are harder. Always five or ten of them. I get more noise, I get more shit for the customers and they got a temper. Tough. Bad for business. They will listen but I gotta really –beat- the anger out of them first and hey, look at all of you and then look at me. If I had legs like you Orcs got arms I could jump over a horse.”

“It martial law in Kogorad. It all-out war with Dorat mountain so you get Halftroops at war. Look for Orc with big whipping scourge under belt. That Troop Overseer. He set straight.”

“Yeah.. Except when it’s the officer making the mess here. I got to hit ‘em in funny places to get laughs from the grunts before they take over and set him straight. Now I got a good light-weight sword under there but hey: No way in –hell- am I going to draw a real weapon on an Orc! Not with what I’ve seen, no thank you! I’ve seen one of you Rits grab a sword’s –blade-, pull it from a guys hand and beat him silly with the handle. And now I hear about bronze rings which are just about all Orcs I’ve ever seen which –excuse me- are pretty dire folk, and steel rings which are worse yet. So: When they’re trouble, can I take my stick to them like I do with you guys?”

None of them took offence at what was said. As huemons went this was very honest, Orcs just were rough and did get on huemon’s nerves a lot and a for a Tenderling faced with an overexcited Orc a good stick-whipping was an effective and perfectly acceptable way to sober him up. No sane Orc, no matter how drunk, would not respect a weak tenderling getting their attention like that and quite unlike huemons Orcish culture demanded the strong must respect and protect the weak.

Ork shook his head. Oclac and Okath let him speak, as Ork had served in the Orc Army for well over a century.
“Hit Steels with stick be no good. Sticks go and gets Steels mad, pain pisses them off like it does with you huemons..”
The innkeeper thought about it. Indeed stickings hurt a lot, but the Orcs just took it like it was.
“No sticks, and innkeep better think twice on pulling sword on Orc..”

“Yeah like fuck I’ll pull a sword ! I had that one figured myself !”

“It best you give beer and pour Snoring-oil in. Then go chain Orc up and let him sleep it off chained to pillar or with back to wall so he puke and no choke. Good iron Orc shackles, ropes be for playings. When there be Gold Orcs and Orc be really harsh on tenderlings they’ll get him, if not or there be whole bunch of them go out the back and get Orc Halftroop. Huemon cityguard good, but not for fighting Steels alone: Steels no fight for playings. Orc Army quarters here in city go give you Snoring-oil for knock Orc flat and good iron Orc shackles for chaining strong Orcs up nice and good. Me no believe it! Huemon no no this?!”

“No human no no, no!” the innkeeper frowned, glad to have learned something useful from someone who ought to know the Orc things. Indeed he recalled the Orc that started slashing some others with his claws last autumn had a steel ring. Useful, worth something.

“Look I got a good one. I’ve got some fancy bread. But now its been three searing hot days in the shack so they’re not so fancy anymore. Well: you can hammer a nail in them by now to be honest. Top stuff but dry as a bone so can’t serve those decently anymore.

I’ll let you crush them in a big kettle of flat beer with a full pitcher of beer on the side. One copperpiece for the three of you. Now how’s that for breakfast?” The Orcs nodded eagerly. Bread in beer, the best of both worlds and the price was right, because no matter what the trader had meant with his gibberish-speak they needed to load up big for a hard day’s work.
“Haah! I knew you guys would like that! No Orc ever said no to that!”
Indeed it was hard to refuse, especially for three Orcs who had to cope with nasty huemon sauerkraut and its aftermath the day after.

They scooped up the yummy mass from a kettle with cups and relished the best food that can be had in a huemon city.

“Oclac go get his tonight…” Okath pondered between two gulps. Oclac shivered with this sudden reminder of what was to come. He nodded.
He thought of the breathtaking humiliations and the merciless punishments by the whip of Vozall, cold, cruel Vozal, who had to his very own amazement squirted his seed by the sheer arousal of whipping naked Oclac’s rump and make the Orc tug his tail for him.

“Do ‘clackie like idea? Huemon stable-man be harsh on Orc with his horsie whip..” Oclac spat in his cup, then gulped down as they needed to down at least two loafs of bread each to get any job done an Orc was needed for.

“How Orc know? You got punish of saddle too?” Oclac gulped in embarrassment.

“Saddle?” Okath grinned lewdly, letting his imagination run wild about how a saddle could be used to punish his friend. Then he shrugged his broad green shoulders and chuckled evilly.

“Nooo.. But Orc walk round with beautiful colours from whip-thong all over rump. All the huemons seen you Orc gets it on rump with horsewhip !”

“It showing?!”

“It glowing!” Okath chuckled.
“Me no like Vozall but he must be good playings for you. Me no no what he do more but me sees Oclac gets it on rump every night and keep come back for more. All huemons on street see ‘clackie gets it on rump too. Me seen them looking!” Oclac blushed a deep green in shame.

Huemons never seemed to get used to the one-flap loincloths Ritdent Orcs wore often, but that everybody could see he got whip-marks all over his green hams was very embarrassing. Vozall had deliberately marked him so all could see some of the lessons taught to him, his bulging green hams showing the dark strokes of his whipping handiwork.

Vozall had left marks to humiliate him just like a naked Orc in the market square stocks. All had seen it. The trader and his wife had surely seen the dark green streaks, and for the whole day to come all would see this proud green warrior bore the streaks of a horsewhip all over his green rump.

The thought that Vozall had deliberately humiliated him like this made his arousal almost unbearable, as time slowly led him to the punishment awaiting him in the stables.

After this wholesome meal they left for the trader’s house to see if there was a job for them to do, and whether they agreed to it.

They were welcomed by the trader and especially his wife, who seemed to have had an argument of sorts.

The trader had managed to secure their day’s labour as well as negotiate a good price for them. He inquired if the Orcs would be in Hindevelt city some more days so he could order five thousand pounds of salt for the cabbage crops to come and for a royal silverpiece per Orc he needn’t bargain a lot and clearly aimed to secure their assistance for seasons to come, being so fond of them as workers and men he doubled the pay-per-load a human crew would get to lure them, while his wife seemed fond of them too, casting friendly glances at Oclac.

They were relieved to hear they had misunderstood banging ores for sacks and that it would be a merry afternoon of crushing and bagging a fancy ruby-red quartz-bearing granite which they did with such enthusiasm they had to fit their sledgehammers with handles improvised from iron rods because the wooden ones kept their pace down by snapping all the time.

The trader clearly had sweet-talked his friend into offering them big wages but they did not disappoint them, because the ore merchant spent his day staring at them with his mouth ajar, occasionally ducking to avoid cobble-sized granite rubble shooting off the rocks by the force of their slugging. Apparently he was also not used to workers using two sledgehammers with the skills and swiftness of warriors and not taking a break all the time.

They were determined not to let the merchant down by slacking it off and worked in puddles of their sweat, each emptying out a bucket of well water and a skillet with beans to keep up with the hot afternoon sun.

After having finished their so-called three-day job a few hours before sunset they made the ore-merchant’s orchard their resting place, eating the pears they shook off the tree they rested under while lying flat on the ground, enjoying both the repose and the stingy pinpricks of ants who were determined to get them out of there.

As the pain in their muscles diminished to mere heaviness the excitement mounted and mounted between Oclac’s big pointed ears. Mercilessly the sun sank lower and lower, with the promise of punishment to come. Darkness came over the land, and finally after a last tiny flare-up the sun sank behind the horizon.

Evening had descended upon them.
Vozall was on shift again.

“Orcs.. me go do it. Me really wanting this and me go do.”

“Orc sure on this?” Ork inquired but it was clear to the three of them.
Okath added some concerns his own.

“Oclac rested enough to take what he have waiting for you? You said he swore you will go and get huge big punish tonight and huemon had hours to think up cruel punishings for Orc..”

Oclac sat up and thought about it. For the few days he knew Vozall he had no doubt the huemon didn’t need and wouldn’t spend hours to think up a night of cruel games and punishments especially for Orcs that came back for more like he would.

“Me rested. Me thought on it all day and me go do. Me go be careful but me go.”

“Oclac, Oclac.. always looking for rougher playings. You sure on this?”
Oclac nodded.

“Me no trust him. Me thinks he want hurt you..” nearly a minute passed in thoughtful silence.

“Perhaps..”

Oclac got on his feet, greeted his friends and walked the city. He knew full well the huemons behind him saw the marks of Vozall’s horsewhip all over his bulging green rump. He even heard whispered and not-so whispered fun being made of him because of this. He felt the mocking to the bone, yet he walked the streets towards the stables. The hot smooth cobbles under his sensitive Orc feet made him hasten his pace. The heat of the black stones under the soles of his bare feet teasing him with a reminder of what was to come, and that the slapping of his feet on those searing cobbles were the footsteps of an Orc walking, longing, nay yearning for the cruel games of a mean stable-man. And even though he knew little of what was to come, he knew that within the hour it would involve him lying down naked over a saddle, and that with no shackles at all he would offer his green Orc rump to cruel, merciless whipping which would make him groan and squirm, and if Vozall whipped him fierce like he always did, the proud Orc would beg him for mercy, which both knew was begging for more.

His green feet slapping on the hot cobbles, Oclac got closer and closer to the stables where his punishment awaited him.

When that door opened, there would be no turning back.

When that door opened and Vozall chilled him with his gaze then nothing could, or would, hide the truth that Oclac came back for the bite of the horsewhip and offer his muscled Orc body; an eager green slave and lusting-toy for the huemon’s cruel pleasures.
And they would both know it.

Oclac turned the last corner and saw the stables right ahead.
Although well rested and quite fit Oclac’s body felt like lead.

There he stood.

He knew Vozall could see his green toes under the crude stable door.
It could only be one Orc.

The Orc that had tasted his whip and now came back for more.
Oclac stood motionless, then nodded and knocked.

The latch was slammed aside and the door creaked open.
Vozall.

“Look what’s standing at my door.. The beast.”
There was no doubt, aside from bitter contempt the stable-man was gloating.
“A buttnaked beast back for more lessons.. Aren’t you, green pig?”

Oclac crumbled to dust.

“Me coming for learning obeyings and that me dumb filthy beast.”

Vozall laughed.

“Ohnonono.. not for obeyings as you call it.. You want a taste of this, don’t you?”

Vozall dangled the whipping-thong of his riding crop in front of Oclac’s face.
Oclac shivered and nodded, looking at the ground in defeat.

“So the filthy beast wants a taste of my Orcwhip? Well.. Lick it!”
Oclac startled. On the street! He had never met somebody as harsh and cruel and yet his cold, unloving tormentor held him spellbound. He often harshly said to train his dumb Orc beasts. Train him.. And there he stood, another Orc who came back for more.

What was this cruel magic that shackled him with chains he could see nor feel?

“You heard me beast: Lick the strap, you won’t believe how it smacks on a green rump if the Orc’s licked it first. I promise you’ll get a front row seat..”

Vozall stepped aside. In the middle of the stables the Orc Army saddle lay in plain view. Vozall grinned as he saw Oclac’s eyes grow wide in terror.

“Yes, beast.. I’ve got your favourite saddle ready for you, and you get to buck on it for as long as it pleases me. And as the sight of your bucking under my whip pleases me and you deserve a big punishment tonight I promise you you’ll get to ride that saddle to your heart’s desire. Now –lick- the whip’s ribbon to make it snap loud on that rump of yours. You know you came back for it. Do it.”

Oclac closed his eyes and obeyed. Right on the street he licked the leather strap of the whip that would soon be used on him. And at a mere arm’s length Vozall cruelly watched him do this, the Orc who’s rump he had marked with his whip had come back for more and now licked the very same Orcwhip held up in front of him by the huemon who would punish him with it. Words could not describe what Oclac felt.
He dared not look at Vozall.

“Look at the beast’s tongue.. A big long beast’s tongue. I bet it’s been in every Orc’s ass of the lands, hasn’t it? Good.. make that leather nice and wet, you’ll have such fun bucking on the saddle.. I promise I’ll make it snap like you never felt.. You want that don’t you?” Oclac hesitantly nodded. He could not sink lower then this. Vozall swung his arm inward, pointing his whip towards the saddle with a sharp snap.

“In…”
Oclac obeyed, overwhelmed by a thousand thoughts and feelings.
Vozall slammed the thick wooden latch shut behind Oclac’s back.

Oclac grunted wildly when the whip bit his bulging calf, quite loud but that paled in comparison with the pain the now wet leather whipping-strap dealt.

“Kneel…”
Oclac dropped to his knees.Vozall walked past him and smacked his loincloth, which stung Oclac’s Orctail like fire.

“Off…”
Oclac complied and lay his loincloth to his side. Nude and kneeling, the Orc was ready for what was to come. Suddenly the whip crossed his tummy. Oclac moaned and clutched it, pinching his eyes shut in pain.

Then it snapped in his flank and Oclac desperately held back a shriek. A few seconds passed and now it snapped on Oclac’s thigh. Moaning the big naked Orc curled up to a ball.

Fiercely the whip hit the sole of the Orc’s left foot, and in the spasm it hit his right. Oclac moaned in agony.

“Oooooww! What your beast must do?”

“What you’re doing right now. Just that. And be quiet while you take my whip or I’ll pick up the pace..”

Oclac convulsed wildly as it hit his lower back.

“Goood. Nice and quiet. That’s a good beast.. Here’s your reward..”

With a very loud snap the leather strap smacked right between Oclac’s bulging hams. Oclac shrieked with his hands over his mouth and then clutched his rump while tears shot from his eyes.

“Ohnonono.. Now that wakes a horse or two if you still do that at three at night. Squeals of joy are Orc-noises that suit a beast like you, but you weren’t quiet when I told you to.. So you know what’s next, don’t you filthy beast? Say it!”

“Me.. me.. me..” Oclac frantically stumbled over his words.

“The beast gets to buck on the saddle! Now be a good beast and lie over it like you should.. You yearned for it all day with my marks still on you.. Show me you want those rumpsnaps!”

There was no honour or dignity left to him, Oclac had waived that with his knocking on that door. And the door had closed on the outside world, leaving him at the mercy of the cruel stable-man he had yielded to, agreeing to let the huemon force his cruel pleasures on him.

He did not need to like it, that much was clear. He just needed to hurt when humiliated, obey when told, buck and moan when hit and beg for mercy when hit over and over again.

Coming back for more was all the consent Vozall seemed to need, he just took over from there. Vozall liked to deal the pain as much as Oclac liked to take it. There were no shackles to force him, his desire and the coercion of Vozall were all the restraints that were needed.

And yet Vozall had changed. Ever since that wet spot the likeliness of Vozall being a huemonster had dwindled to Oclac. True contempt avoids. Deep hatred kills. If Vozall held nothing but contempt and hatred for him and his kin, he would certainly not spend hours in sadistic amusement depending on an Orc’s consent. Perhaps Vozall’s feelings were more mixed then Oclac’s but he had surely changed ever since he made seed whipping a tugging Orc he believed to hate.

Oclac rolled over the floor as Vozall’s whip snapped all over his body ten times over.

“I said the beast gets to buck on the saddle! …I can whip you to it you know? I did that before to Orc beasts less eager to take the whip then you are.”

Oclac crawled on hands and knees towards the Orc Army saddle. He smelled it from where he was, the musky leather scented by the seed, sweat and musks of many Orcs, and the spit of the all the Orc tongues forced lap it up. It was slick with grease, not saddlegrease but the grease of Orcish bodies sweating and squirming and rubbing their tails to it in hidden pleasure...
Just like he would, mere minutes from now.

He sat beside the saddle. That saddle! The mere thought of it had made him hard over and over ever since he had smelled all those odors, ridden it as a whipping punishment, forced to squirt his slimes all over it and then made to lick it clean afterwards like all the Orcs before him had done so many times. Those notches left to the saddle’s pommel were Orcs, not punishments. How many had come back for more like he did, and how many times?
If Vozall could see his Orctail swell like it did no Orc had gotten his rump whipped like he would.

Oclac bent over and slid his chest over the high saddle, his smooth skin sliding over the musky leather. He let go and his tummy slid over it, stopped by his legs with his bulging rump up in the air awaiting the whip. Mmmm.. as comfortable as it was now, it would soon prove a rumpwhipping-contraption far better then the low stocks of Ritdent, and Oclac had stolen more then once to get into those. He put his head on his arms, thrilled by what was to come.

“Now that’s a comfy beast. A little too eager..” Vozall prodded his horsewhip between the Orc’s thighs.

“Open up.. Legs apart and you’d better not be hard between them… I’ll go the extra mile with you if you’ve gotten hard there. Its Orcish lewdness that needs whipped out of that rump. And this beast has quite the whipping rump. Legs wide. –Now-.”

Oclac gulped.. As eager as he was he was fearful to comply, as his Orctail could not be harder and wetter then it was now and a swollen Orctail had gotten him the harshest whippings. But he had to. Over the whipping-saddle there’s no bad obeyings! Not for long anyway..

Oclac slowly parted his legs. Immediately Vozall put his boot between them and shoved left to right to make the Orc legs part, then stepped between them. Oclac bit his lip. His rump held up by the saddle and his legs spread wide with Vozall between them so he couldn’t close them he had to offer his rump in a more humiliating way then ever. This added humiliation was not lost on the stable-man.

“Good.. I like this. You’re just right for whipping lying like that!” Oclac blushed a deep green. He lay there just right for many things.. If only Vozall would whip him, get inspired by the sight and unbuckle!

Vozall traced the insides of Oclac’s thighs with his whip. Oclac blinked. –this- wasn’t Vozall, this actually bordered on gentleness! The whip ended up where the Orc’s legs met and rubbed and prodded Oclac’s green sac.

“You disgusting beast! I’m prodding your balls and you’re spreading your legs wider! You’re quite the horny beast.. But I know just how to handle those.. Comfy?”

Vozall prodded Oclac between his sac and rump. Oclac moaned before he could think. The whip’s end now prodded and rubbed Oclac’s Orctail that was as hard as a stick.

“Look at you.. Hard between the legs, ready for Orc-fucking.. And it’s just the two of us in here. How am I to take this, filth? Up the ass like the bunch of horny beasts you are? Well since you’re swollen –where you shouldn’t- you’re getting an all new Orc treat.” He rubbed Oclac’s length with the whip’s end.
“You’re going to be the first Orc to get his rump whipped with the whip’s thong wet with his own slimes.. How’s –that- for a treat? It’ll snap like a firecracker but it already sounds good to me. I’ll make you squeal with your own slimes.. the way Orcs should be squealing.”

Oclac could hardly hold on to his senses. Mean as Vozall had always been, his newfound cruelty drove him as wild as the whip had before. Wet that whip’s thong bit way more fiery then ever, so Vozall would indeed make him squeal with the very slimes of his yearning, and that with his legs spread too, which flooded his green head with fantasies as dirty as the ones the huemon was going to punish him for. To an Orc lewdness is a good thing, but Oclac had to admit he was every bit the horny beast Vozall was going to whip him for, if not more so.
Deserved?
Desired.

“Dripping wet with your own filth.. Just what’s needed for a nice good punishing..”

Silence.. stillness. Unbearable. Oclac shivered with tension.

“You made me look the fool when I punished you yesterday, filth.. If you want stupid, you should look at yourself from here…”

Suddenly the whip snapped like a firecracker and Oclac bucked in pain, clasping Vozall’s boots between his thighs.

“Now that’s Orc slimes.. Looks like the filthy goo has a purpose after all.. Spread those knees beast! You know what’s next! You know you want it so show me!” Slowly and intensely humiliated Oclac spread his legs. Vozall prodded his sac with the whip.

“Look! More Orc-whipping goo.. Just when I need it!”
Vozall dragged the whipping-strap through the Orcslimes and dealt some lashes that snapped and stung beyond belief, making Oclac clutch his riding boots while Vozall kept lashing his bulging green rump.

“Ten claps from one goo.. not bad at all! Spread those legs, beast. You know you want it! …there! A little rub on your sac and out comes the Orc-whipping goo for ten more green rump firecrackers!” The whip bit and bit his hams again and Oclac whimpered in pain, shaking all over with pain and humiliation.

“Goood beast, and this fresh Orc-whipping goo says you want ten more of those! I’ll whip you till your balls run out of goo for my whip. Funny.. its your Orcish horniness that makes me whip you and makes it hurt like it does! If you squirt it I’ll smack it on your rump, those monstrous Orc balls will tell me when you’ve had enough and by the size of them I’d say you’ll get much more where these came from. Hah! An Orc punished by his own balls, aren’t –you- glad you’re a fuckbeast!”

Poor Oclac got whipped over and over in a routine so humiliating it hurt as much as the whip’s bite, but this humiliation bit him all over without end. He was beside himself, far beyond the realms of excitement itself. Oh, this would mark! All the huemons would see these thirty yards away, and they’d stay with him for some days. He was made to squirt the very slimes he was punished for, and which made it hurt way more in his rump and spirit. In the end he got to moan and beg for mercy, Orc music so pleasing to Vozall’s ears he kept him begging for fifteen minutes and a hundred Orc rump snaps more.

Finally Vozall was satisfied with the total humiliation and exhaustion of the Orc who lay limp in front of him, shining and dripping with sweat and a bulging Orc rump showing more shades of green then a forest. He stood there, full of cruel plans far beyond this mere whipping, watching the exhausted Orc pump air and slowly come to his breath and Orcish senses, unknowing of the many horrors awaiting him. Watching the Orc coming to for his further plans, after all the whipping that made the proud Orc howl, moan and beg for mercy filled Vozall with a curious satisfaction.
It startled him. Yes: satisfaction. It had pleased him much, way too much.
The Orc’s filthiness rubbed off on him!
Oh he’d make him regret that!

Oclac lay there when Vozall stepped up in front of him.

“Beast: Spread your arms wide and far above your head.. Do it!”
Oclac complied, spreading out his arms wide with Vozall standing between them.

“Good.. A nice worshipping position.. Quite suitable for an Orc beast worshipping his human master. This is how Orcs stand to humans, or rather.. Should kneel for them..” Oclac, no longer exhausted but dreamy with his Orc rump ablaze became aware again. He lay over the saddle, rump in the air and chest flat on the floor with his arms and legs spread wide and Vozall’s boots right in front of him while he softly moaned from his rumpwhipping.
Quite humiliating.

“This is how Orcs should be. This is an Orc’s place.” Oclac caught a little annoyance drifting through his head. He heard no more talk of Vozall and his beast, it was all about his kind and the huemons now. This was another change, but not for the better.

“I’ll show you a filthy Orc..”

Oclac’s eyes shot open when warm fluid splattered all over his head and a trickle of its taste and the scent of it reached him all at once.

“This is an Orc’s worth.. A reward for your filthiness.”

Vozall now pissed on him. All good and well if that were so, but that’s not how it felt at all.

This was Vozall pissing on an Orc, pissing on his very kind.

This was fun and games no longer.

Oclac pushed himself up until he sat on his knees facing Vozall who snapped his whip in front of him.

“The Orc gets on his knees and licks his human master’s piss off the floor like he should.”

Whatever this was, it was no longer personal.

“NO !” Oclac decided and crossed his arms in front of him,
“This NOT be fun pla-“ Vozall’s whip smacked him right on his cheek with no restraint.

“The Orc kneels or it gets more!” Oclac rubbed his cheek in outrage then pointed at Vozall.

“You no do that to Oclac! What.. you.. think.. you-“ again Vozall smacked his whip straight in Oclac’s face. He did not hold back. He just lashed out hard and cared not where it hit.

The oceans of the world are moved by the eternal tides. The water rises, and then drops as it has always done, divided by the turn of the tides. For Oclac, that which he desired had ceased and the tide had turned to the very opposite of all he stood for. This turn of the tides did not just end the fun, but this was a game no longer.

Oclac jumped on his feet and roared in anger. Vozall screamed most unmanly in fear.

“I. I’m sorry! Don’t kill me Ohclac! PLEASE DON’T KILL ME !! I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I do this to you ! Forgive meee !”

Oclac shook it off wildly, trying to grasp what happened. All of a sudden he had a –name-, the first name Vozall called him that actually was his own, and fear brought out the talk of an equal, also a first.

This flipped the situation a full three-sixty once more, slamming Oclac back into gameplay, but quite a different one at that!

“Hoh-oh-oh-oh! Yuuu no sorry yet! Yuuu no NEARLY sorry yet! Vozall get BIIIG PUNISH! Vozall gets shown.. Vozall gets told.. Vozall gets to be hue-MONKEY of Orc! Hoh-oh-oooh, Huemonkey no NEARLY sorry yet!”

“Ow! Ow! Please spare me Ohclac! I... I... I...” Vozall cried.

“I-I-I not sound of monkey! Monkey go ooh!ooh!ooh! and thump hairy chest!”

“-please- I just... It was..”

“Playings?” Oclac demanded.

“Yyyes! Just play.. I see that now!”

“Woohh! You be dumb because it STILL playings. Haaaah! Vozall gets shown! Vozall gets told!” Oclac’s fiery Orcish temperament flared up and with his wide-open green eyes fixed on the stable-man he seemed beyond madness to human standards.

“Haah! What be that?!” Oclac pointed straight to Vozall’s crotch.
A new wet spot has formed, but this one was bigger and yellow in colour, as Vozall lost control of what he held in when Oclac jumped up. He blushed cherry-red!

“Baaaaad monkey! Huemons no should wear clothes ! They MONKEYS !” Oclac jumped five foot over the saddle right in front of Vozall who’s squeals were more piglike then any Orc’s ever were as Oclac ripped his clothes from his body, severing his belt and tearing his riding boots effortlessly with his clawnails, stripping away shreds of his clothes until Vozall was as naked as he was.

“Theeere! Now LOOKIE! Me show you monkey!” Vozall wanted to stagger back but Oclac’s arm shot out and seized him by a tuft of his chest hair, pinching it like a vise.

“Now that be monkey hairs!” He grabbed hold of Vozall’s pubic hair and tugged at it to make it just hurt a little.
“You be furry animal! You be baldyhaired tree monkey! And you been BAAAAD obeyings! And huemonkey gets shown. Huemonkey gets told. And now.. me takes furry animal to saddle.. and me go –spank- the monkey!”

“Nooo!” Vozall’s outcries in vain he was dragged of and slid over the saddle, slick with Oclac’s Orcish sweat and slimes. Oclac’s left hand on his lower back held him in place while his right grabbed the huemon between his legs to stop his struggling. Oclac smiled and shone with surprise.

“Vozall half-hard between the legs and growing harder still! Vozall likes saddle-game with Orc so much he likes ride the saddle too! Now THAT surprise for Orc!”

Well, not just ‘for Orc’.
Vozall discovered to his amazement he had gotten very aroused and got quite hard, painfully so, and unbelievably all objections to Orcs or anything melted when Oclac started a gentle fondling. He started panting and shivering. Yes: the Orcs did their loveplay right under his nose every night of the year.

It only now dawned on Vozall that meant he himself had been without it and his resentment had been sheer envy. He had shunned loveplay. Now he knew why: he liked it like the Orcs did it, man to man, and not male to female like he grew up to believe was right. It all made sense, it made perfect sense why a girl fantasy tug quite often turned an Orc-on-Orc thing in front of his eyes just before blowing a load.

Oh! It all made perfect sense, for one thing why he didn’t leave the stables where Orcs were known to be welcome and volunteering the permanent nightshift in fact.

His thoughts ceased in peace because the skilful fondling of his willing member and his balls were so sensitive now they nearly took his breath away with pleasure.
Oooh! This was what he had looked for all that time. And then.. That delicious soft, smooth Orc hand stopped pleasing him. He looked aside in puzzlement straight into Oclac’s ivory grin.

“Vozall liking me fondling him..” Vozall nodded. He wanted to apologise but got no chance.

“Good.. Vozall learning.. But he forgetting one thingie..” Vozall had no clue.

“Vozall on the saddle now and he monkey go get spankies for being filthy beast and getting all hot and hard in hand of Orc! If Orcs filthy beasts then Vozall really icky for getting hot on filthy beasts.. Vozall be hot on Orc!” Vozall gulped, then nodded.

“Yes.. Oh Ohclac I am so fucking hot on you that I deserve all the smacks you want to give me for being such a hateful.. hyoomonster you call it? I won’t fight.. –make- me your monkey and let me have it for being such a bastard all the time!”

“Ohnonono..” Oclac mocked Vozall’s harsh playings side,
“Me go spank furry monkey for playings, not for mad! Me never spanked a furry rump of ape before! Look, there even be fur between.. Me should pluck you like chicken!”

“Ooooh give it to me Ohclac! I am –so- hot on you if that’s the word.”

“Filthy monkey!” Oclac decided. He started rubbing Vozall’s hams who moaned in pleasure.
“Oh you got all wrong! Me checking warmth to see how hot me can slap rump of you!”

Oclac teased on, and then started slapping like he said he would, good smacks to start with, and turning it up that extra notch when Vozall got a little too happy about it. When Vozall blushed and broke out in sweats Oclac stopped and gently rubbed the red-hot human buns. He knew rumpsmacking to near fainting was an Orc thing, and not even half of the Orcs took it that far. Nothing for a tenderling he outclassed by fifty pounds of rock-hard Orcish muscle and nearly a foot in length over him. Tenderlings needed pleasings, especially this one who clearly had endured more hardships then were good for him.
Hmmm.. Pleasings!

He stroked Vozall’s hams, tracing the crevice between them with his finger. Then he gave them a good slap.

“On feet!” he ordered.

“I.. I like lying over the saddle for you, Ohclac…” Vozall confessed.

“On feet to stablebox of Orcs. There good hay there for sitting..” he winked lewdly,

“And lying on, and me will take saddle and you go be lying over it for long time!” That was a promise that got Vozall going. Odd, he had had well over thirty Orcs rump-up over that saddle for fierce whippings, and yet lying over it himself with Oclac beside him stroking his nude body held as great a charge to them, albeit one of a stillness he never felt before. Oclac smiled.

“Vozall: on elbows and knees for punish! Me go show you place of Vozall!” Vozall eagerly complied. With a wide grin Oclac took the heavy Orc Army saddle and dropped it over Vozall’s back. Then he took the horsewhip and gave a frightening mid-air snap that made their ears ring.

“That be place of Vozall.. He be animal of Orc and carry Orc saddle for playings to the stablebox of Orcs. Orc took load off your back and put saddle on for punish. You be a huemonkey, and that be animal not beast…” Oclac flanked him and teasingly urged him on by slapping his human hams with the riding crop.

“Ooooff! I had –no idea- how that felt.. This hurts!” Oclac laughed out loud.

“Thàt hurting?! You best say you no no and swallow rest because me just teasing and whip not even close to snapping yet! No say tapping of Orc hurts because then you –really- no idea how feels. But it good. Me likes getting whipped on rump..-hurr!- it just now whole city knows!”

With teasing slaps Oclac led Vozall to the stable-box where the Orcs spent their nights. Vozall let himself be led, bearing the Orc Army saddle and pondering Orcs, humans and horses and the divide between people, animals and beasts, overwhelmed by how everything had come full circle and how he delighted in his newfound friend, the big naked Orc teasing him with the whip and letting him carry the saddle he himself would lie on. The whip and saddle he had so coldly used on Orcs were now lovingly used on him by an Orcboar he had been whipping cruelly for days. Orc beast, hue-monster… it dazzled him. He just let it happen, this was too big for him to ponder.

Oclac swung open the stablebox door and gave teasing whip-pats to herd the stable-man in. When they were in he lifted the heavy saddle off of Vozall pushed him on the straw with his foot and threw himself next to him. He stroked Vozall’s cheek who patted him back, avoiding the ugly whipping-streaks he had slapped across the Orc’s cheeks

Oclac drew near and nuzzled Vozall with a heated purr that before had signalled things would be going on in the stableboxes. Perhaps it meant the same thing now.. If only it would! Vozall stroked the Orc’s smooth and clearly sensitive skin.

“That first.” Oclac nodded. Vozall frowned in wonder.

“You never touched Oclac with hand, only with whip and stepping on toes with boot.” Vozall blushed in shame. It was true. All he could do to make amends was try and please this great warrior who’s strength of character dwarfed even his bulging green muscle that rounded his magnificent body. He felt painfully self-conscious to fall short in both body and mind but decided that if Oclac deemed him worthy, he must have something good going for him.
His fingers eagerly traced the muscles of this most masculine of beings and was delighted to see him shiver with pleasure.

“May I touch.. I want to play with your.. Orctail. Can I please touch..” Oclac snorted in shock.

“You lay Orc over saddle and whip rump for days and days in harsh playings.. And then you go –ask- you can touch tail of Orc? If you no touch Orc there right now you go be knowing how whip-snaps feel! Me let you suck leather ribbon and give –you- ten on rump!”

Vozall snickered. Not touching the green warrior’s tail was no longer an option. He grabbed hold of the softened meat and was amazed how he could knead and even stretch it, but this fondling quickly led to an eager swelling and heating, until it finally stood a foot tall, clad with soft skin and meat but hard as a stick underneath.

“It feels so good playing with it.. Do you like..” A quick glance made abundantly clear Oclac could hardly contain his pleasure. He knew Orcs were strong to react but he was thrilled to see the sheer pleasure this simple fondling dealt to his huge friend, who now dropped flat on his back. Then it hit him.

“Wohw!” he gasped and a glance was enough.

“I’m making you smell of heat... It’s so strong... I never quite got how ooofffh! arousing it is to smell you’re so hot on me!” Oclac hushed him by pulling his head to his big Orctail.

“Hmmmmhh.. Sniff me.. Sniff smells of me.. Go touch and lick me..”
Vozall bit his lip in excitement. …Lick it… The Orc wanted him to.. He nudged Oclac’s sac with his nose and felt Orcish slimes land on his air and drip over his cheek. He took a chance and gave it a good lick. Salty.. Steaming with Orc musks.. Hmmmmh, Oclac had a great smell and flavour to him and after years of shunning Orcs he now wanted to feel, smell and taste it all and of all the Orctails he’d seen in his harsh games this was the first one he held, smelled AND tasted!

With the Orcslimes oozing down and him licking up that exciting green length his tongue and the Orcslimes were sure to meet. Its taste was far from vile, it was sweet, salty and even meaty and he gently pulled back the Orc’s skin, exposing his surprisingly bright red glans. Haah, if he licked that he’d milk Oclac of his juices and would take the Orc’s heated growling and moaning as far up as he could.

Oclac grabbed and turned him with ease and laid him on top of his slick muscular body. Vozall felt fingers and claws stroking and tickling, but then got a ringed snout pushed between his legs where he started a vigorous and loud licking and sucking of cock and sac alike which frightened Vozall before plunging him into ecstasy. This was so hot, sooo hot to lick and suckle the juices of that big green warrior while he wildly pressed and squirmed his ringed snout that seemed to spew fire-breath between Vozall’s legs with frighteningly wild licking, sucking and lip-fondling. Like wolves rip and tear at their prey, so wildly the big Orc licked, nuzzled and sucked between the huemon’s legs.

Then it dawned on Oclac huemons could not keep it up all night, so he nuzzled and sniffed Vozall’s scent for some time before retreating.
He slapped Vozall’s buttocks.

“Baaaad huemonkey!” he teased and Vozall halted his delicious suckling, feeling a tension arise. Oclac rolled him off him and sat up.

“You baaad sucklings!” he teased and Vozall merrily took the bait.

“I, I.. I try my best!” Oclac grinned and sparks of joy shot from his eyes.

“Ohnonono.. Huemon needs shown. Huemon needs told.. Me go teach you to be goood suckler of Orcs and have fun training you on it! Me make you best suckling monkey and dirtiest Orc-licking beast in all of Hindevelt.. And filthy beastie go enjoying it.” Vozall nodded, he was sure Oclac thought up something good.

Oclac grabbed the saddle and slapped it down between his legs, resting his back against the stablebox wall. Vozall understood his part in it and was all too eager to comply.

“Goood huemonkey!” Oclac praised as Vozall slid over the saddle between his muscled green legs and holding on to the sides of the Orc’s searing hot hams. Oclac took the riding crop and made it snap in mid-air, before teasing Vozall with a lash that just hurt.

“You go lick balls of Orc and then up and if you be good huemonkey you gets suckle Orc again.. But whip on rump means you did wrong and must do all over again.. Or when me just feel like seeing huemonkey bucking on saddle ! You my beastie now and me go train you to suckle tail of all Orcs you see !” Vozall grinned but flinched when the whip hit his buttocks and eagerly started licking the Orc’s balls. The Orc purred with excitement and kept him licking and suckling his green pouch, giving a correcting lash whenever Vozall too eagerly slid his tongue up his green shaft.

Oclac sat in comfort and a little lash to that yummy huemon rump made Vozall lick him just where and how he liked it and let him lick all the way up his Orctail to make him start over again with a teasing slap.

“Mmmm.. Filthy beastie be liking this.. me sees he do!” Vozall wanted to answer but a few stingy slaps put him to his task again.
“No talkie with mouthful! Tongue of Vozall be for lickies not talkies!”

Vozall went near wild with arousal with this teasing game the Orc had thought up, he got to lick Oclac in all the good places, could rest his shoulders on the Orc’s bulky legs and the green warrior knew just how to tease him right to drive him shrieking mad with desire and then use the whip just right pointing to where he liked to be licked and making sure Vozall would do it just like he wanted, uttering excited purrs and playing with Vozall’s hair.

Every now and then Vozall was allowed to suckle his friend’s juices and the whip and strange Orcish purrs taught him how to do it just right. Vozall suckled to his heart’s desire, and the Orc kept feeding him squirts of his salty Orc juices without running dry. Both were fully absorbed in their arousing play and Vozall, lying quite comfortable and eager to lick his Orc warrior friend and keep him purring and growling in heat, filling his nostrils with arousing Orc musks and made him wish it would never end.

“WAAAAARRRGGGHH !!! Now –that- me calls good obeyings !!” Vozall shot up and saw to his horror how Oclac’s green buddies grinningly stood in the entrance of the stablebox, eagerly feasting their eyes on the lustful scene. Oclac seized Vozall’s head and gently yet insistently led him back down, slapping his buttocks with the riding crop.

“Back on sac!” Oclac heatedly ordered and nodded to Vozall there was no need for worrying. Urged on by some impatient whip-slaps he hesitantly started licking his warrior friend again while his two Orc friends chuckled in clearly mounting arousal.

“Me no believe eyes on this. We snuck in because us worried but me no –fathom- this!” Ork hissed in amazement seeing clearly who had been taming who, and how both now delighted in their game of teasing and pleasing.
Whatever had happened earlier that night, Vozall had left all hostilities completely behind him, wiping his slate clean with both Orcs that walked in on their play and now saw him eagerly playing a game, being taught to suckle Orc and was quite a fast learner..
Okath smacked and licked his lips.

“Hmmmmmhh.. That yummy-looking game.. Me gots tasty Orctail too and me likes teach huemon some licky-tricks too.. He must learn suckling Orc with Okath too! Mmmm.. Me likes in on playings..” Even Ork who had harboured quite some resentment for the way the stable-man had treated them was beyond conflict and moved by the harmony he saw between the two now.

“Yesss.. That looking yummy playings. If huemon gets taught suckling Orc, he must suckle tail of Ork too.. It real big and big spoutings and it very yummy-tasting! Oooww.. Me wants in on this!” Vozall was stunned and could barely keep on licking. He knew Orc buddies were all over each other, but now a three-Orc cuddlepile was forming around him and he wasn’t even asked.

Through the thick Orcish lewdness he now saw innocence beyond his comprehension. It was not horniness that made Orcs succumb to an orgy, but rather the lack of boundaries to their love, the purest love he had ever felt, made them enjoy their buddies body and soul with no intent but to please and be pleased. Hidden between Oclac’s muscled legs tears oozed from Vozall’s eyes.

Where was this purity of love to be found among his kind? He saw spite and envy and jealousy and was no stranger to these sentiments himself. How could it be possible to find the highest love amongst the beings most despised, to find innocence among creatures with tusks like chisels and razorsharp claws? What had the spirit of Man lost by becoming human, and what was gained by the severing of the bond with all living things, elevating their selves above the any and all?

These beings, these wonderful friends, they had a love flowing between them he knew was rare even amongst those married for long. There was no shred of vileness to their intentions, nothing but love, arousal and a yearning to give and receive pleasure…

Oclac petted his shoulder and he now drowned in the Orc’s beautiful green eyes.

“Vozall want friends in on playings? They good friends of Orc and fun playings too..” He looked at them, overflowing with love now the dam of his coldness had broken. Hopelessly in love as if struck by lightning. With all -three- of these Orcs. Oboy. Oooboy..

“Oh yes.. Oh yes..” he panted and immediately Ork and Okath unbuckled to show him magnificent green packages, driving him wild with a passion easily dismissed as sluttyness by strangers to feelings as strong as those consuming him.

“Orctails be good looks to huemon?” Ork inquired not without pride and they took a stance to be admired.

“Let me hold them.. Let me play and knead them so they’ll grow in my hands!” The two Orcs exchanged overjoyed grins and hastily knelt down to Vozall’s sides before the growing had gone on without being held.

Vozall now held two soft Orc meats, eagerly kneading and pulling them while eagerly licking a third one right under his nose. Big as the soft Orc meats were, they started swelling and hardening, parting his fingers as they grew to the incredible hardness within like was the case with Oclac. Three huge Orc boars, stark naked and eager to involve him in their Orcish play of lust and desire were now offering their willing green meats to him to fondle and play with. A teasing lash on his buttocks snapped him out of it.

“Suckle Orc!” Oclac hissed in heat and got his just like he wanted it.
Intoxicated by their musks Vozall clumsily tugged and kneaded the two Orctails pleasing them ample to surround him with moans and hisses, soak him in musks of arousal and stroking his body searching and finding the special spots that thrilled him the most. Vozall’s entire universe shrunk to the three foot circle of the Orcs surrounding him, offering their eagerly squirting Orctails and pleasing him in all ways they could.

Suddenly Oclac took hold of him.
“Now you get taste –all- of Orc!” he hissed in wild excitement that mounted until he roared and squirting his Orc seed, well over three mouthfuls, into Vozall and after groaningly pumping his last squirts he let his dwindling Orctail be cleaned by the eager huemon mouth While the three of them continued Oclac came to breath and rubbed Vozall’s head in gratitude.

“Oooww.. Me go make you sooo happy now! You choose Orc to suckle next and me go give you goodie Orc treat!” Oclac left from under him and Vozall pulled an Orctail, making Okath the second Orc to get a suckle just the way he’d like to, so Okath eagerly sat down with his legs wide, offering his eager meat to the pleasures of the formerly hostile stable-man, looking forward to a suckle by the smaller but coarser tongue of a huemon, and especially Vozall who gave himself body and soul to the three of them.

Vozall’s tongue eagerly explored the taste of Okath’s pouch and Orctail and he eagerly sniffed his musks, and all of Okath clearly had a different fragrance and flavour to it, and although eagerly aroused he quickly found out just what drove Okath into his delicious rapid growls, that heated him as much as Oclac’s purring had aroused him before.

Vozall felt his legs were being parted behind the saddle, and eagerly spread them. Great was his shock when he felt the tip of Oclac’s tongue probing between his hams, eagerly licking his sensitive spots, but then slowly pushing itself in, squirming like a worm which drove the stable-man through the roof with sensation, while suckling Okath’s Orctail, holding his sac and eagerly fondling Orc’s huge Orctail, which like the Orc himself was the biggest of all.
And all the while the agile Orc’s tongue tickled spots he didn’t know he even had, but drove him wild with sensation. Vozall squirmed to cope with all this pleasure, but Oclac took hold of his sac as to restrain him and force him to yield to the pleasure he could barely contain.

“Aww, lookie.. huemon go wild with joy.. sooo cute..” Okath whispered between moans and Vozall thanked him with his tongue, giving him quite a time to the point of a rapid lustful oinking that mounted until he spouted his tasty Orc seed, making Vozall swallow and swallow, as Okath had much Orc juices to squirt him.

After cleaning Okath’s Orctail he was held out of breath by Oclac’s long Orc tongue that had him and drove him beside himself.

“Oclac.. Now -me- play and push tongue for tenderling! We Orcs too big in tails but tongues just okie to keep him in joys! It be sooo cute seeing huemon going wild with joy! Lemme have him with tongue, me good at it!” Vozall felt the Orc’s tongue slide out of him and Okath made way for big Ork, who truly had quite some tail to show him. Vozall looked up in awe.
“Heh! Me go drench you for a day! If you thinking friends be good spoutings then me go give you some real sucklings from Orctail !”

Ork’s musks were different, every bit as intoxicating as Okath’s before him, and his big sac held Orcballs the size of eggs, proving Vozall would get quite a meal out of him. Vozall eagerly licked Ork’s unique scents and even the slimes of his yearning shot thick squirts landing al over him while Okath made him whimper with his tongue-wiggling and skills indicated he had pleased more then one huemon that way.

“You tugged up Orc nice and good.. Try best and suckle Orc.. me all hot now..” Vozall eagerly worked Ork’s thick glans in and gave the big Orc the best he could give him, which made the big warrior shrivel in wild, uncontrolled panting that soon became a rapid grunting. The slimes were so plentiful and Ork kept squirting them for him.. But now Ork’s grunting mounted to deafening strengths and when Vozall felt his jaws being pushed open a little wider, he knew what this final swelling promised. With both hands he grabbed hold of Ork’s tail and tugged him up wildly. Ork’s booming roar filled the stables with noise and he spouted big hard jets that made Vozall cling on in desperation, determined to swallow every single mouthful the beastly roaring Orc filled him with.

Vozall cleaned out Ork’s diminishing tail, but kept the now soft tail inside as a tasty mouthful.

“Haah! You no want let go of Orctail do you? Well there go be more squirtings for you, best skip meal before shift because we go fill your tummy with seed of Orcs! Huemon friend be liking taste of Orcs?”
Vozall nodded with his mouth bulging with soft Orctail.

“Now huemon get Orc treat from Ork! Lookie how big tongue me gots! Me go make you wet yourself with pleasure!” Orc pulled his length from Vozall’s mouth who tried to hold the yummy Orcmeat in there. He apparently simply pushed Okath aside, spread Vozall’s legs further still, grabbed his loins, pressed his ringed snout to Vozall’s hams and drove his tongue between them which was so large poor Vozall shrieked in fear. Ork relentlessly put his tongue into him which was so big and strong he could wiggle and reach every spot and on top of that his Orc tongue skills were the best of the three Orcs, so Okath had to restrain the tenderling from going wild. When Vozall barely had adapted to this his painfully swollen cock was swallowed up by Oclac who gave him a suckling so dire he cried out in desperation, finally culminating in an orgasm so intense that it made him scream just like the Orcs had roared and growled before him.

He tried to regain breath and Ork slid his tongue out of him.
“Please..” Vozall panted,
“Please take turns until I can’t stand it no more… Make me beg… It feels sooo good!”

“Huemonkey be coming back for more filthy Orc thingies. Oooh how we Orcs go make you beg to stop!” And they did. They took turns keeping the tenderling wild with their agile tongues and only ceased teasing him until his begging couldn’t be more from the heart then it got.

Vozall lay panting over the Orc Army saddle driven beyond himself. Oclac sat next to him, got his attention and with his clawnail he tore a big notch on the right side of the saddle’s pommel.

“This be for first time Vozall got had by Orcs riding his own saddle of punish and bad obeyings.. How it feel now you be on saddle?”

“Oooofff.. The ride of my life. You really taught me the most valuable lesson of all…”

“That huemon looking dumb with ass in air like that?”

Overcome by peace Vozall laughed inaudibly of sheer happiness.

“Yeah, something like that.. Thank you. Thank you for giving the World back to me..”

Oclac rubbed his newfound friend’s rump in silent appreciation.

“Many Orc notches be on left side of saddle, Vozall be first notch right.”

“Oh.. Right? Absolutely right.. Things couldn’t be more right then they are now. Thank you so much..”

Half an hour later Ork grabbed Vozall’s ankles and slid him off the saddle to cuddle up among his Orcish friends. And there they lay, three green warriors and a huemon stable-man on top, cuddled up in a pile of naked bodies basking in each other’s warmth, gently stroking and whispering sweet words until one after the other yielded to a peaceful sleep, with the huemon who had hated Orcs having found his peace with the world, and a warm spot in a cuddlepile of his former enemies.

 

<<< the end <<<