Content Warning!
This story includes themes, imagery, and language some readers might not find acceptable. These include: homophobic slurs, watersports (piss play), pits worship, power play.
If you find any of these unacceptable, this is not the story for you.
Gliding up the narrow dirt road, Rick was silent. The soft leather of his boots mixed with years of practice to muffle any noise. His pack was expertly arraigned so that nothing would make a peep, a clank, nor a jolt as he traversed the poorly maintained and rarely traveled road leading to the small mountain village of Dragon Pass.
Periodically, birds would chirp in the forest’s canopy. Squirrels and other foraging creatures would squeak at the discovery of more food. The forest’s prey continued their daily lives free of predators, allowing Rick to slightly relax and focus on his mission.
Some time ago, the overly bloated egos at the mage college sent one of their students to this back-woods village. Arnold? Andre? Rick couldn’t remember the poor saps name, but he had it written down somewhere in his pack. From his few run-ins with the college in the past, the big wigs were probably trying to weaponize Elvin and wild magic for yet another pointless war that the kings wanted.
The college lost all contact with him a few months after he arrived. The big wigs, in all their hubris, assumed the village had finally been wiped out. That is, until the village’s tax cart came rolling into the nearest town of size last month. In a scramble to save their pointless reputation, they’d hired Rick to go investigate what happened to their unfortunate student.
Rick reviewed all this in his mind as he saw the veil of sunlight marking the end of the forest and the beginning of the fields that comprised the village grow near. He’d been to the village once before on a goblin extermination mission, but it was barely a local worth remembering.
Feet from the warm caress of the day’s light, Rick stopped.
People were working in the fields as he expected to find, just as the high proportion of men to women. Still, something was peculiar.
The orcs wore nothing but loin cloths, the bare minimum required to keep their junk from getting in the way. Rather than the crudely fabricated ones he’d seen wild, feral, tribes that refused to get with the times wore, these were expertly constructed. The cloth held delicate patterns that no orc could hope to create.
For their part, the humans wore similar loin clothes. They wore something more though. Around each of their necks was a leather collar embedded with bones and teeth from wild beasts. While they worked side by side with the orcs, they were clearly not equals.
Almost instantly, Rick understood what had happened. The village had greatly regressed to the old days. They’d abandoned the human trappings of civilization for the disgusting barbarism of ages past. Rather than running off to create yet another band of stinking feral orcs, they’d decided to revive the antiquated trade of human slaves. All of this in in a village officially sanctioned by the kings.
From his place in the shadows, Rick gauged that there were many hours of daylight left. Sinking back into the tree line, he began his wait for nightfall. Once its camouflaging darkness arrived, he would be able to gather more information before leaving to amass a party to eradicate this village of barbarians.
Darkness consumed the forest where Rick hid. Overhead, the moon was obscured by clouds who threatened rain. The conditions were perfect.
Rick broke from the forest and darted between the fields, keeping his body low. The grains were luckily tall enough confuse his form in the shadows. As he approached the village proper, he cursed. The village was annoyingly well lit.
Maintaining his stealth, he hugged the wall of the nearest building. Thus far, he hadn’t been spotted. With how many bloody lights this backwards village held, that could change at any time.
Suddenly, Rick’s concentration was broken by a moan. A peculiar moan of a human man, but somehow off. To his surprise, it was coming from the house he was currently hugging. To his left was an open window. Rick decided to risk a look.
The inside shocked him.
A man, burly and middle aged, was straddling the lap of a small orc. The man lifted himself up, revealing the massive cock he was impaling himself on. He then proceeded to thrust his ass down hard. On the second rise, he began to speak. “Oh Master! Your big orc cock feels so good!”
The orc slapped the man’s ass. “Faster, bitch.” He then moved his arms behind his head and laid back, letting his faggot work.
“Yes Master!” the man cried, before thrusting his hips at an ever-increasing pace. Through minutes that felt like hours to Rick, the man worked the orc cock with ever more faggy moans.
Finally, the orc grabbed the man’s hips and thrust him down hard, holding him there. The orc let out a guttural groan of conquest as he seeded the man’s ass. The man, unable to control his own orgasm, weakly moaned as his cock twitched and spewed its contents across the orc’s chest and core.
The man laid down on the orc now, nestling his face into the orc’s pit as the cock escaped his ass with a pop.
“How’s that pussy doing, faggot?” The orc moved the unoccupied arm down to the man’s ass and began to finger the hole he’d just seeded.
“Mmmm. Your big orc cock fucked it so good, Master. Like always.” He proceeded to coo from the new stimulation.
The orc removed his fingers and slapped the man’s ass once more. “Up, faggot. Daddy’s gotta piss.”
Full of energy again, the man slithered down between the orc’s legs. “Please Master, allow me. Allow your inferior human slave to drink your precious piss, Master.”
The orc nodded and the man wrapped his lips around the orc’s head. Loudly, the man drank as the orc release a sigh of relief. Once complete, the orc removed his cock and slapped the man’s face with it a few times. “You disgusting human. You’re making me horny again.”
The man rolled backwards and pulled his legs towards his head, revealing the hole leaking orc seed. “Please Master, fuck me again. Please fill me with your superior orc cock once more. I’m begging you Master!”
“Alright, faggot.” The orc got up and swallowed the man in his large frame before thrusting his cock in again.
Rick sank down to the ground, repulsed at what he’d just seen. Before he could fully process what he’d witnessed, similar moans and groans began emanating from many other houses in the village.
Under his breath, Rick whispered. “This place is a haven of hedonism and debauchery.” Despite not being a cleric, he felt that he had a better understanding of how those useful but pompous temple goers viewed the world now.
Rick knew that faggots existed. During some terrible dry spells with only tiny villages around, he’d used a town fag to satiate his carnal needs and paid the price at a temple the moment he returned to civilization. He even knew there were some faggots who were size queens, who adored the massive cocks of orcs and less civilized beasts. But faggots were rare, finding a whole village of them was unheard of.
Even with the disturbing information he’d already gathered, Rick knew that it wasn’t enough to plan a successful cleansing of this place. Furthermore, he hadn’t even started completing the mission that brought him here in the first place.
Steeling his nerves, Rick stood up away from the window and peered around the corner, looking deeper into the den of depravity. A few people could be seen; a human or two and a few orcs walking between the houses. He checked his equipment, bow ready, short sward within reach. Finally, he darted to the next house. The sounds of human men either impaling themselves or being impaled by orc cock rattled his brain as he worked his way deeper.
Reaching the center of the village, Rick started to see the simple signs of the local shops. Home to the few people who didn’t work the fields for a living, it was his best shot at finding out what happened to the hopefully living mage.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a sign displaying the human and orcish symbols of magic. ‘Bingo’, he thought as he plotted his next move. The shop was across the street, meaning he’d have to cross to investigate. There were several people mulling around the main strip, including a revolting scene of an orc bouncing a man on his cock out in the open. Rick would have to move a few houses down to a quieter spot to make the crossing.
Just as he was plotting, two bulking hands grabbed his shoulders from behind and spun him around before firmly grasping his forearms and lifting Rick off the ground.
Before him was a massive, brutish orc. A smile so wide that it made his tusks look narrow was painted across his green face as a tight mohawk raced back across his head. His broad shoulders trailed down to a beefy, hair covered chest and small gut. He wore a simple loin cloth holding a massive bulge and nothing else.
“Looks like we’ve got a’ outsider.” The jeer on his face only grew stronger as he spoke. “Time to break you in little man.” Before Rick could protest, he was thrown under the orc’s arm and carried away.
Rick started screaming and kicking as he was carried though the village. Several orcs high-fived and congratulated his capture. Rick was carried towards the outer reaches of the village, in the oppose direction from whence he’d entered.
Reaching an interchangeable house, Rick was carried inside and unceremoniously dropped onto the floor. Before he could regain his footing, the orc grabbed his bow and snapped it across his knee. Ready to fight back, Rick unsheathed his sword. The orc scathed as Rick lunged for his first attack.
The orc’s massive hand encompassed Rick’s wrist and twisted, forcing Rick’s body to spin his legs over his head as his grip released. Catching the sword, the orc appreciated the fine craftsmanship and removed the sword from the fighting equation by planting it firmly in a support beam.
“Got anything else, little man?” The air of superiority that the orc held only grew as he spoke.
Rick stood up again and lacked an answer. He’d kept his gear light to maintain stealth. Several of the other backups were safely stashed away with the rest of his gear in the forest. Out of options, Rick charged to engage the orc in hand-to-hand combat.
The orc rolled his eyes as he reached out and grabbed Rick by the throat. He lifted his other arm, revealing a reeking pit of matted unwashed hair. “Time for you to calm down little man.” He spoke as he pushed Rick’s face into the pit.
Instantly, the intense stench filled Rick’s nose. A malign haze washed across his brain as his mouth started to drool. The fight in Rick slowly waned as the neural pathways began to misfire.
Feeling the fight end in his new slave, the orc dropped Rick. “Now, slave. The name’s Mobera, Mobe for short, and I’m your Master. Understood, faggot?”
Rick fell onto his knees and slouched. The blur in his head was making thinking anything coherent impossible. Every time he tried, thoughts of how good and powerful and manly that orc’s stank was would interrupt him. As Mobe spoke, he barely understood what was being said. Regardless, the last strands of resistance gave it their best shot. “I’m not a, not a, slave, orc!”
The jeer on Mobe’s face fell into a scowl at this resistance. He grabbed the back of Rick’s head and, pulling him up slightly to reach, pressed Rick’s face into his well-worn loincloth. “You will be fag.”
Neurons misfired at an increasing rate as the new, more potent stench invaded Rick’s mind. The receptors in his nose were alight with pleasure as the musk caressed their delicate pores. Any resistance that remained was eviscerated, replaced with an unbreakable need to worship the godly stench and the superior creature that created it.
Mobe pulled Rick’s face back, pleased to see the glassy eyes and drool running down the slack jaw. “Ready to obey, slave?”
Weakly, Rick nodded.
“Good.” The jeer had returned to Mobe’s face as he dropped Rick to the floor once more. “Strip, slut.”
Rick’s limbs were like jelly, weak and barely able to hold their own weight. Mind still congested with musk he didn’t realize he was slowly removing his garments; slowly removing his identity as a free man. Now naked, all he could do was look up at the towering orc who produced the musk that had entrapped him so.
With a flick of the wrist, Mobe undid the thin strap holding his loincloth in place. It tumbled to the ground as his cock, large even for an orc, bounced free. Already half mass, Mobe was ready to claim his own personal piece of fuck meat.
The repulsion in Rick’s brain was gone. All he could do now was stare up in awe at the massive organ as it slowly throbbed to full size. Something in Rick, something buried deep, told him that he must kiss it. Slowly his knees found strength to rise up and kiss the head of the cock that now owned him.
Mobe chuckled at the sight. Already the human was accepting his natural place beneath him. He let Rick kiss the head a few times, eating up the worship he would now receive constantly. Finally, he gave an order. “On the table, human.”
Rick looked around and spotted the table for the first time. He crawled over to it and used the leg to finally get to his feet. Attempting to climb on was impossible, his arms lacked their normal strength as he fell on his ass.
“The weakness of humans.” Mobe spoke with a mix of glee and humor. He walked over and grabbed Rick under the armpits before sitting him on the table like a child. There, he pushed Rick onto his back and spread his legs wide. With Rick’s virgin hole finally at cock height, Mobe slapped his meat between the human’s legs, hiding Rick’s dick from view.
Even in his musk raddled mind, Rick knew what was coming. The old Rick would have fought back, would have tried to escape. But that Rick was gone. In his place was a submissive faggot about to get his hole fucked for the first time like a cheap whore.
A new instinct took hold of Rick as he gasped at the size. “Please Master,” he begged, “please fuck me! Please conquer my human hole with your big orc cock! Give me a pussy to pleasure you as you deserve, Master!”
Mobe looked down at Rick with triumph in his eyes. Not only did he finally have his own slave, his own submissive fuck meat to relieve his aching balls whenever he chose, but he’d done so without even fucking the slut yet. None of the other orcs could make such a claim. Ready to finalize his conquest, he thrust the first several inches in.
Rick screamed out in pain as he was violated. Even with the musk clouding his judgement with pleasure, the pain was immense. He felt Mobe pull out several inches before thrusting in more, causing him to scream again.
This pattern went on until Mobe was balls deep. He pulled back to thrust again, Rick ready for the anguish, when… it didn’t hurt as bad. Mobe thrust again and again the pain was less. On the third full thrust, there was something new in the pain. A slight hint of pleasure.
Mobe continued his thrusting and Rick started to moan. The pain was quickly getting replaced by a pleasure he’d never experienced before. A deep warmth filled his body as his pussy began to spasm. His legs began shaking as his moans became high and faggy. The dick he’d somehow forgotten about grew hard.
As the fucking continued, Rick’s mental image of himself made the final corrections to his knew place. He wasn’t Rick the ranger. He was Rick the faggot, Rick the slave, Rick the inferior human so lucky to have an orc to worship and pleasure with his body.
Mobe bucked his hips one last time, grunting in victory as his cock spasmed and shot it’s seed deep into the human. The change in pressure was exactly what Rick needed too. His own dick twitched and fired its much smaller load across his chest and stomach.
Rick looked up at the manly beast that owned him with divinity in his eyes.
Upon learning of his skills, Rick was given an honorary position in the village guard. Honorary because weak humans didn’t have what it takes to keep the village safe from danger. With his skills, he dutifully scouted the forest for signs of trouble by day before returning to his Master at night.
Just like all humans in the village, he wore nothing but a loincloth to keep his tiny junk out of the way, and the collar his owner was gracious enough to make for him.
Upon returning home, Rick was always lucky enough to engage in his most favorite activity, worshiping his Master. Rick was now just another willing human slave beneath the power and prestige of the orcs.
Magic Fable 