Content Warning!
This story includes themes, imagery, and language some readers might not find acceptable. These include: homophobic slurs, foot worship, pits worship, power play.
If you find any of these unacceptable, this is not the story for you.
Rain cascaded upon the human city of Banderbolf, doing its best to wash away the filth and grime. A cool breeze cleared the city of her normal acrid smells. Combined they created a cold and dreary evening in the human capital.
Under the overhang of a small shop, closed early for lack of customers, Marc huddled up to stay warm. His life had been difficult as an adult. The warmth and generosity of orphanages were great while it lasted. Upon becoming an adult he was cast out to face the world alone, the fate of all orphans.
Temples offered temporary relief to those without a place to rest easy, but they were very keen on not letting their guests become permanent. Worst of all, they were painfully picky when it came to accepting new members, only taking the best and brightest.
That same ill luck followed him through every prospect he pursued. Not smart enough for the mages, not strong enough to compete with orcs in manual labor, not feminine enough to whore himself out. Just not enough, leaving him with another night on the streets hoping to survive. ‘May the warmth of day come soon,’ he hoped.
Daybreak came early, relieving Marc of the night’s chill, but making further rest impossible. Getting up, he set himself towards the market in hope of luck. Today, as with many days before, he would resort to begging to get enough coin or food to carry him over another day.
Entering the market as the sun was mid-rise, it was less busy than usual. The usual droves of people were replaced with emptiness. As he walked through, bowing his head and holding his hands out to all he passed, he could hear merchants complaining about the lack of opportunity and questioning if they should pack up early.
As Marc approached a man in tight leather garb, the man did something few bothered to do. He acknowledged Marc as a person.
“What makes you do this, wanderer?”
Marc was unsure how to respond. It had been far too long since someone had spoken to him, let alone expected him to respond. The words came slowly.
“I’ve nothing else to do to… live.”
The man took a moment to appraise him, momentarily making Marc feel like a piece of meat. He nodded and reached out a hand.
“If life here is so hard, why not join me out in the frontier. There is always work for young men who need a new start on life and dwellings in need of a caretaker.”
Marc recoiled back. Life in the city was brutal, miserable most of the time, but it was life. Rumors always spread about the horrors of the frontier. Elven magic attacks, wild beasts, deadly diseases, and more perils waiting for the opportunity to take anyone out.
The man saw the panic in Marc’s shudder. “I’m not promising it’ll be easy, but anything would be better than this, right?”
Marc could not deny that truth. On nights where he struggled to beg for enough food, he often resorted to hunting rats or digging through rubbish just to fill his empty belly. And the cold, it crept into his bones more nights than not as he withered away. Even though he may die, what the man was offering sounded better than the life he had.
“Please, where in the frontier?” It did not particularly matter to Marc where the man would take him, but it felt necessary to ask.
A soft smile formed on the man’s face. “It’s a village out in the northeast in the middle of the Alliance named Dragon Pass. Nothing big nor fancy, but it’s a home.”
Unsurprisingly, Marc knew nothing of this village. There were so many small villages and towns in the frontier that few in Banderbolf bothered to care for them. Still, Marc was ready to take the risk.
He reached out his trembling hand and took the stranger’s.
The man’s smile grew warmer. “I’ll be happy to take you. We’re always looking for new residents. My name is Rick, by the way. Now, let’s get you cleaned up before we head out. I’ve got a shared room at a local inn with a few others looking for a better life.” Rick started walking, practically dragging Marc with him as they headed off.
The road to Dragon Pass was hard but already offered many improvements for Marc. He had a bedroll to sleep on every night and a full belly he didn’t have to beg for. The couple other recruits and especially Rick helped him remember his voice. He could talk to them like a man.
During the day, Marc rode with Rick at the front of the cart chatting while the other men sat in the back or stretched their legs. Rick would speak heavily on his life as an adventurer before settling down in the village.
Marc enjoyed hearing these stories, even if it was usually an excuse for Rick to boast about the sluts he’d fucked in every town and village in the land. The prospect of intimacy filled Marc with excitement. In the city, an orphan like him would need to be successful before having any hope of relieving carnal needs. The way Rick painted it, it was different out here.
At night the crew would sit around a fire eating and laughing as they got to know each other better. One by one they’d settle in before their turn on guard duty.
Overall the journey was rather uneventful. Occasionally they were harassed by some wolves or a stray goblin or gnoll, but they could easily be chased off. The villages and towns they passed through on the road continued to fill Marc with hope that his prospects were finally turning around.
That prospect changed about half a day out from their destination.
A rustle from the trees put everyone on edge. Instinctively, Rick and another man who’d previously been a soldier reached for their weapons. On edge, Rick’s keen eyes tracked the movement for a moment before a similar rustle came from the other side of the cart.
Marc was genuinely scared for the first time of the journey. Even he knew that they’d walked into an ambush with little hope of escape. While the men could possibly make a run for it, depending on their ambushers’ motive, the important supplies on the cart would certainly be lost.
A figure stepped out from the brush about 20 paces before the cart. Marc could tell that he was a large humanoid of some type but the dense forest made full identification impossible.
As the figure got closer, a peculiar smell, dank and earthy, started permeating off the figure upwind. After a few moments he was close enough to really make out.
The figure that approached was an orc, and a large one at that. Broad shoulders that filled the road and hair that covered his pecs and small gut. He wore only a loincloth to cover his large bulge and a long wooden spear.
Knowing only of rumors, Marc knew he must be a wild orc, one that rejected the peace between their races. Marc did what he’d done so many times during this trip, looked to Rick for guidance on what to do. He was taken aback upon seeing him though.
Rick’s face was flush and his eyes were wide. Regularly, he would take a deep breath and almost moan. Finally, Rick leapt from the cart, leaving the other men and his weapon behind before darting towards the figure. “Master!” he cried while stripping off his vest and shirt. “Oh how I’ve missed you!” Making little leaps towards the figure, Rick pulled off his tight leather pants and boots, leaving him naked.
Marc and the rest of the group looked at each other confused and afraid. More orcs entered the road behind the cart, cutting them off. With their leader seemingly incapacitated, there was nothing for them to do in that moment.
Rick and the orc finally met. He leaped into the orc’s arms, forcing him to drop the spear as Rick hugged him with both his arms and legs. “Please Master, let me smell your manly pits, kiss your big feet, and take your superior orc cock!” Rick couldn’t help but work his face into the valley between the orc’s pecs, smearing the sweat across his face.
“Easy there faggot, I’ve missed you too.” The orc lifted one arm and guided Rick’s face into his hairy pit, making Rick moan. The other hand dropped down to Rick’s ass and started playing with Rick’s hole. “There’ll be plenty of time for that once we’re back home. Gotta loosen that fag ass up again.”
As Rick stood there, face still firmly in the orc’s pit and nodding along to everything he was saying, the orc drew his attention to the rest of the men. “Listen up! The name’s Mobe. We’ve been sent out here to spot intruders or find the caravan we sent out. Looks like we did.” He started walking closer, practically dragging Rick with him. “Follow us and you’ll learn more once we get to the village.”
Marc and the other men walked in silence. The feeling of betrayal ran hot through all of them. Rick had promised a new life with a good future, only for it all to be a lie. Marc couldn’t help but curse himself for ever being foolish enough to follow Rick.
At Mobe’s command, Rick darted ahead to alert the village of their arrival. Some hours later, the caravan reached the outskirts of the village. They were greeted by Rick, now wearing a simple leather collar and kneeling, and an orc almost as large as Mobe.
Spreading his arms out wide, the orc greeted them. “Welcome new villagers to Dragon Pass. I’m Grumb, the captain of the village guard and leader here.” He lowered his arms to pat Rick on the head as you would a dog. “As you can see, we follow some new traditions around here. Don’t worry, soon you’ll realize that it’s for the best. Now come! There are some orcs eager to meet you.”
Grumb gestured and the whole caravan started moving into town towards a small tavern. There, the men were stripped of their clothes and separated from each other.
Marc was placed into a room by himself. His foolishness was still going strong as he sat on the bed and curled into a ball. ‘Of course it turned out this way. Nothing ever goes right for me.’
As he wallowed in his own self-pity on the bed, the door opened and someone stepped inside. At first Marc made no movement to acknowledge the occupant who moved to sit next to him on the bed.
“Hey there, how ya adjusting?”
Marc made no sound as he stayed curled up.
Gently the orc started petting Marc, stroking him from shoulder to waist. “No need to be afraid. I’m Thrak and I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”
The warmth of Thrak’s hand permeated Marc’s body. It was enough to start pulling Marc from his depressive slump. “You mean using me as a sex toy…” Marc had released his fetal position enough to smell something other than himself, allowing a new musk to hit his senses in the enclosed space. Something about it felt warm.
Thrak moved the hand that was stroking Marc to behind his head, clearly a little embarrassed. “Well, yeah, eventually. But not until you’re begging for it.” The musk in the room grew stronger as Thrak held his hand there.
“Why would I want to be a stupid sex toy like that bastard Rick?” Marc lashed out and fully released himself from his fetal position. Sitting up, he looked at the orc for the first time.
Thrak was younger but clearly an adult. He wasn’t as large as the other orcs Marc had met but was still larger than himself. His shade of green was that of a summer leaf. There was hair on his chest and pubes, noticeable only because he was wearing a loincloth, but it wasn’t as thick as Mobe’s or Grumb’s. Despite this, his arms and chest were already well developed to match his flat stomach.
Thrak looked a little lost at Marc’s question. “Well, I always hear the fags, er-sorry, humans begging their masters to get fucked more. And their screams of pleasure are so loud that they’re hard to miss.” Arm still raised, Thrak looked up to the ceiling. “Guess I kind of figured all humans were addicted to orc cock.”
Marc was about to spit out a nasty rebuttal to Thrak’s remark about humans, but he felt something changing within him. A warmth was growing in his chest and core. With every breath it was growing stronger as a tingle started to form in his brain. Without Marc’s knowledge, his dick was getting hard. Eventually, he managed to spit something out. “I-I don’t want anything like that…”
Thrak lowered his arm and looked at Marc, about ready to leave when he noticed something. “Oh, I get it. You wanna play hard to get.”
“What. No. Why do you…”
Thrak cut him off before he could finish. “Cuz your little dick is hard from smelling me.” Thrak let out a genuine laugh as Marc looked down in horror to discover it was true.
“W-what. No-no-no. I’m just… it was a long trip… and I…” Shame built up in Marc as his dick got even harder. Somehow he could feel the musk coming off Thrak wearing down his resistance but he held firm.
Thrak cut Marc off by gently cupping Marc’s head. The big hand effortlessly held Marc and filled him with a new sense of calm and warmth he’d never felt before. “Easy there. We’ll take it slow.” Thrak used the moment of calm in Marc to get a good look at him. “You are one cute little fag, you know that?”
Marc can’t help but blush with embarrassment. Every instinct tells him to get away from Thrak but he can’t seem to. Something is holding him in place. The best he could do was look away and blush.“Eh, thanks…”
“Now that’s even cuter. Tell ya what, we’ll take this nice and slow for you. We’ll start with my pit that’s sweaty after a long day of work that Zoff always says is good at breaking in a, oh, sorry. Got carried away.”
Before Marc has a moment to protest, Thrak has lifted his other arm and is pulling Marc into his pit. The musk intensified tenfold as his face is pressed firmly in. The masculine and earthy musk makes his nose tingle with each breath. A fog forms in his mind as his body grows hot and a weak moan escapes his lips. Something about the musk makes it feel powerful and dominant.
Without being prompted, Marc starts rubbing his face into the pit. Sweat and musk gets worked onto his face as his dick releases a drop of pre.
“There we go, fag. Guess it just takes a minute ta get you worked up.” Thrak releases Marc’s head and lets him fall back onto his knees as Thrak lowers his arm.
Gulps of fresher air drive the fog away long enough for Marc to attempt a protest. “I-I’m not a faggot.”
“You sure about that? Your little guy doesn’t agree with you.” With a finger and a thumb, Thrak gave Marc’s dick a couple of tugs as he laughs.
An odd mix of shame and pleasure mixes in Marc. Shame from being so turned on by all this and pleasure from the musk still on his face. Before Marc has time to mount another protest, a loud moan echoes through the room.
“Oh fuck yes! Give me more of your big orc cock!”
“Sounds like one of the other guys you came with just got his first real taste.” It sounded like the former soldier. The realization hit Marc like a brick. ‘If even he was moaning like that, maybe there’s no point in resisting. M-maybe I should see where this goes…’
Marc mumbled under his breath, the last traces of resistance trying to win. “No… No…”
Thrak can see the torment in Marc’s eyes. He reaches out and cups Marc’s head again. “See, nothing to be afraid of. Your friend is loving it over there.”
Thrak raises his arm again, giving Marc a good look. His head is already moving before he can protest again.“P-please, not again…” His face is firmly pressed into the other pit, giving him a fresh hit of musk. Again the blissful fog rolls in to tickle his brain. Marc can feel it breaking away his resistance and replacing it with a warmth, and fullness, and belonging he hadn’t felt in so long. He can’t stop himself from licking the powerful pit and feeling the same pleasure take his tongue.
His head is released and it takes longer to come back to something close to reality. Between the man’s moans, the musk, and his raging dick, Marc realized the futility of resisting anymore. Despite himself, he is enjoying this. He loves being near this big orc. “O-okay. I’ll try more.” His voice is weak but just loud enough for Thrak to hear.
A wide smile grows across Thrak’s face. “Really? Fuck yeah! Get down on the floor, I’ve always wanted to have a fag lick my feet. Zoff’s always talking about how good it feels after a long day and with your cute face, fuck!”
Marc recoils at being called a fag but still climbs off the bed and situates himself between Thrak’s legs. Looking at them, they are huge. Covered in hair and muscular, Marc nearly drools. Thrak lifts one leg and presses it to Marc’s face. The musk is almost as potent as the pits were. Warmth filled the side of his face pressed to the foot as Marc nestled into it. Reflexively, his tongue licks the foot from just above the heel to just under the balls.
Marc can’t help himself from moaning. Thrak’s foot was both nasty and amazing at the same time. He could taste the sweat and grime of hard work, but also the powerful and masculine musk that drove him crazy. He started licking everywhere he could on the foot while rubbing his face into it. A new thought started bubbling up through the fog. ‘Maybe I am meant to worship…’ Before Marc could finish the thought, Thrak started speaking.
“You look so good like that, faggot.” The smile across his face was as wide as it could get. His cheeks were flush and the bulge in his loincloth occasionally throbbed, showing he loved seeing Marc like this. He pulled his foot away and Marc whined for a moment. “Don’t worry, fag. You’ll have lots of opportunities to worship me. But before that, I, uh, kinda gotta ask something first.” A moment of discomfort crosses his face as he realizes he forgot to ask a very important question. “W-what’s your name?”
Marc blinks at the realization that he never introduced himself to the orc whose pits and feet he’d worshiped. His cheeks grew flush as the shame of failing an orc filled him. “Oh, yeah. It’s Marc… Sir.”
Thrak’s eyes lit up hearing this. “You are too fucking cute, faggot. And that name, it’s just as cute. Might let you keep it as a name other than the usuals like fag or slut or cum guzzling whore.” The excitement in his voice was apparent. “Alright Marc, ready to try an orc’s cock?”
Marc could only nod as he looked at Thrak’s bulge.
“Then let it out, nice and slow.” Thrak lifted his ass just enough for Marc to reach up and begin pulling down the loincloth. Slowly the green monster started peeking above the loincloth. A long thick shaft slightly darker than the rest of him came into view. The intense smell, stronger than either the pits or feet held, hit Marc with a wave of desire. He needed this cock.
As the loincloth came all the way off, Marc could only stare at the beast as it rested above two very large balls. A new instinct kicked in and Marc leaned in to smell and kiss the sack holding the load he wanted.
“Fuck, you sure you’ve never been with an orc before, faggot? Your tongue feels better than I imagined, so soft and needy.” Thrak moaned as Marc kissed then gave several long licks across the sack. His tongue gently massaged each nut as it grazed over, sending thrill through Thrak. “E-enough foreplay. Kiss my cock. Oh fuck I need your mouth on my cock.”
Marc directed his attention to the cock that has been resting on his head. The big meaty pole smelled just as good as the balls had. Savoring every taste, Marc ran his tongue from the base all the way up to the head before running his tongue just above the foreskin a few times.
Thrak couldn’t hold his desire any longer. He grabbed Marc’s head with both hands and forced his cock inside. Miraculously to Marc, his mouth and throat acclimated quickly to the intrusion. More than that, the divine taste of cock musk covered his palate as every breath was also full of Thrak. While getting his mouth and throat fucked, Marc felt a warmth and fullness he’d never known in life as a thought from earlier finally finished. ‘Orc cock feels so good. Maybe I was born to worship superior orcs!’
Thrak reached his limit as he forced Marc’s head all the way down to the base and roared. “Here it comes, slut. Drink it all!” Shot after shot raced straight down Marc’s throat and into his stomach, quickly filling him to bloating, causing Marc’s own cock to cum untouched. Thrak enjoyed his orgasm before releasing Marc’s head so he may breathe again. “That was so good, fag… better than I imagined…”
Marc, while still catching his breath, looked up at Thrak with a new sense of divinity and need. “Oh Master, your big orc cock felt so good using my throat.” Quickly he turned around and spread his cheeks. “Please Master, use this hole too. Fuck my orc toy ass with your superior cock!”
Thrak could only chuckle. “Told you that you’d beg for it.” Marc’s begging held the desired result. Thrak’s cock was still hard and ready to go again. “Alright cumslut, I’ll fuck you now, but I ain’t holding back.”
“Yes Master, anything to feel you ravish me again!”
While it wasn’t the future he’d imagined upon leaving Banderbolf, Marc knew he’d found the home Rick had promised. A place where he’d always be warm, and full, and needed. It just so happened to be at the end of Thrak’s cock.
Several hours later, Thrak and Marc left the small room in the tavern. In the main hall, a large gathering was taking place. Orcs with their human slaves mingled about enjoying the addition of several new “villagers”. Some were fucking, though most were holding themselves back for later. Out of the corner of his eye, Marc could see Rick squealing as Mobe fucked him for a job well done on a table in the middle of the hall.
Neither stayed to enjoy the festivities. Both were too exhausted for anything other than going home and climbing into bed together for the first time. After maybe one more round. Perhaps two.
