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The morning sun woke the general before his alarm did; blinding rays that ignored the thick curtains and invaded the room mercilessly. Anar reached out with a hand but there was no-one there, the other side of the bed was cool to the touch. How depressing! He'd even take an orc right now than be alone. Winny will be curled up in his bunk right now, he thought, all sweet and sexy and elvish. Anar wondered how he slept with those wings of his, and how he coped with those antlers of his on a pillow. Had his new flame thought about him at all before going to sleep? Maybe Clinker had had a little chat with him - he had been his very first 'good boy' and he still had a soft spot for the staff sergeant even though he was now in his 20's and about a hundred pounds heavier.

Clinker had been a very eager to please new recruit with a buzz cut and polished tusks, tagging at Anar's heels with a grin whenever he could. He'd worn his freedom pin and told of how his nest chief had thrown him out for not wanting to bond with a she-orc, leaving him alone and exiled with nowhere to go; so he had come to the Kaos Army because they enlisted anyone. The general had listened and sympathised with the lad and had shown him his own badge on his jacket. That next day he had Clinker stock up the ammo in the lock-up with him and had casually asked if he could touch him up. It had all been rather innocent really; Anar was not yet an expert at getting what he wanted out of new recruits and things with Clinker progressed much slower than they would now. It had really just started with a wandering hand inside the orcs shirt until he'd escalated things by leaning in for a kiss. They'd both left the cabin blushing and wanting more. So they'd gone to the tank sheds together the next day, carrying boxes of spare parts, which was a job that should have took all of five minutes but ended up taking over an hour because they couldn't keep their hands off each other. Unfortunately it wasn't a completely private location and so the lock-up had been modified for his own purposes. No-one had asked any questions. No-one had even cared that one of the fresh privates was basically the general's personal assistant now, disappearing with him for hours at a time. Then Rap had taken Anar aside and asked him why his new favourite orc soldier was turning up for dinner with dust on his combat's knees. Now, the lieutenant was the one person that Anar trusted one hundred percent, no hesitation, so they'd had a little chat about it all. Rap was a little shocked to discover his friend was fooling around with a nineteen year old but it was all fully consensual fun so he left him to it. Anar had quickly sourced a blanket for Clinker to kneel on while he pleasured his senior officer orally and every time he came he called him a 'good boy'. The rest, as they say, is history.

The beep of his morning alarm pulled him from his happy memories and he headed into the shower. It was friday. Friday was a good day, with little work to do and plenty of time for recreation. As he soaped himself up and hummed contentedly Anar decided that when his tasks were completed he should head to the gym, then have some time with Winny before drinks and pool in the mess. Actually there was a bubble spa at the gym wasn't there? He could reserve it for private use and have some naughty fun in there. Yes! Brilliant. In fact, he'd have staff sergeant Clinker bring all of cake squad into the gymnasium. After all there was nothing orcs loved more than showing off with weights and skaven were happy to run all day on the treadmills, much like hamsters with a wheel. The goblins probably wouldn't be happy but ah well, fuck 'em, when were they ever? Grumpy little gits. Anar finished showering, dried off and went for breakfast.

Sipping coffee the general fired off a text to his favourite orc officer and it was arranged to all meet in the gym at two o'clock. Rap and Rave took their usual seats opposite him and asked if he'd like to take their tank out on sunday for some good old-fashioned destruction and mayhem? Why yes, he would, thanks very much! The raptors grinned. They discussed the paper headlines briefly and then the general left for the office.

Reading his emails, he flipped to the back of his notebook and added Welwyn's name to his secret list. It wasn't a long one but every entry brought cherished memories and brief pangs of heartache. His treasured good boys, angels all of them. Some of them had been virgins before he'd had his wicked way with them and he wondered how experienced Winny actually was. He'd find out soon enough. The notebook went back in the drawer. This one also had a lock, just in case. He not only kept his list in there but photos too; official ones of course but still not the sort of thing for prying eyes. The other kind of photos he had of his boys were safely stored behind fingerprint recognition on his smart device. An email in his inbox caught his eye. What does that prick want?! Anar could have swore he was in his spam list, though if he thought he could get away with it he'd have him blocked for good. Major-general Swiftwing (major-general Bellend more like. And what was with major-general, was general not impressive enough? Always had to be better than him didn't he? Arsehole) had kindly forwarded yet another newspaper article that had incorrectly described general Warlock as a donkey. One of these days... no, no, he wouldn't let it get to him. It was friday and some fucking goody-goody griffon loser wasn't going to ruin his good mood. He hit delete on the offending article, pulled up the hidden photos on his phone and sighed nostalgically. Much better. Soon enough it was lunchtime and Anar shut down his work computer. If anything exciting happened anywhere now, it wasn't his problem; captain Atriz the most senior dark elf took over until monday from his base many moons away. He had fond memories of that lovely piece of ass, too.

The cafeteria was busy as usual but you didn't queue for food when you were a general; he made his way straight to the serving hatch accompanied by the thunderous sound of sturdy boots stomping as his men saluted perfectly and shouted in unison "general, sir!" It always made his day a little brighter, they were his misfits godsdammit and he was proud of every last one of them. Every soldier here had started out like cake squad; a ragtag bunch of low IQ idiots who didn't know their left from their right but with a firm hand and the right methods of discipline they had miraculously turned into fine warriors that Anar could trust to kick serious butt wherever and whenever he sent them. For many, this was their only family and they would willingly die for the creature next to them on the front line. He respectfully returned their salutes and demolished his massive bacon sandwich and invigorating black coffee.

Satiated and ready for anything he made his way to the gym. He was a little early but that only meant he could put some Love Island on the big screen and watch it in peace before Clinker and his minions turned up. Reality TV was one of Anar's favourite things that he missed from his Earth; the fights, the betrayal, the drama. He lapped it up. Sergeant-Major Worgren shook his head as the opening titles blasted out of the speakers. He did not share his superior officer's love of this particular television programme and busied himself tidying up the weight racks. The general sped up the treadmill and watched, intrigued as to who would be kicked off the island this week. Thanks to where and when he was in this particular universe the episode he was viewing had been made a hundred thousand years ago and he wasn't about to miss a second of it. This was extreme catch-up television.

Oh! Nearly forgot! "Worgren!"

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm using the spa after Clinkers' bunch have finished in here. Private party!"

"Yes, sir." he carried on throwing kettle bells about noisily, earning sharp glares from the aardvark officer.

You're doing that on purpose. Bloody wolf.

By the time cake squad turned up for their workout, Anar was sweating and traumatised - they'd voted off his favourite islander! Poor sod had been stitched right up. Didn't help knowing he was dust in a jar now. If human Earth was even still rotating that was.

Just as depressing thoughts were creeping in about the cruelty of time, a blonde mop of locks pulled him back to his senses; his little Winny was being shown how to use the treadmill. The elf flashed him a shy smile and started to run. Anar breathed deeper. Sexy fucking boy. The screens turned back to orc metal music, much to Worgren's relief, and the orcs gathered around the bench press.

Anar sensed a competition brewing. Using the distraction in the room to his advantage, he summoned Clinker for a word in his ear. The staff sergeant grinned and nodded.

Sure enough, the atmosphere at the press grew in intensity and Worgren began piling plates onto the bar. Macho grunting ensued. Anar shook his head and drank from the chilled water dispenser, wiping his brow with a towel, pretending to be interested in the weight lifting contest. He was, of course, watching his good boy work out on the treadmill, perfect arse quivering as he trotted along, slipping his general approving glances. I see you, he thought, just wait 'til sessions over.

"General! Two twenty!"

Eh? What? Oh nooo you gotta be kidding me! Fuck sake, I'm just trying to perv in peace over here.

Throwing his empty cup in the trash, he took a deep breath and approached the crowd. Worgren was getting his own back for subjecting him to Love Island. As he reluctantly lay down and gripped the dusty bar, he felt an intense pair of blue eyes on him. Oh great, now I've got to do it, no pressure or anything! He cursed himself for getting lazy and not keeping up with his workouts. Knew it would come back and bite him sooner or later. Worgren gave him an evil grin as he stepped back. You bastard. Come on Anar, you can do this, think of the fun you're having afterwards. Just grab and lift. Easy. He exhaled and strained. Two twenty?! The fucker had piled more than that on. His wide aardvark nostrils flared. The bar dug into his chest as he flexed his fingers around it. No-one dared utter a sound. With a dizzying amount of effort he slowly pushed his arms out straight, wheezing triumphantly. A round of applause broke out and Worgren took the bar, nodding, impressed. The orcs slapped him on the back, nearly sending him sprawling.

"I'm just... just going to have a little sit down," the general mumbled weakly. He didn't dare make eye contact with Winny who was probably thinking he was a right fool competing with greenskins. Elves didn't value muscle, they prioritised speed and elegance over pure strength. Couldn't blame them; lifting weights was flipping hard. Skipping through wooded glades with bows and arrows was easy.

The orcs moved onto the pull-up frame and Anar gave Worgren a 'don't you even fucking think about it' glare. His arms were still shaking. The wolf smirked and looked away.

It was inevitable that he would succumb to temptation and watch his elf again; Winny wasn't even breaking a sweat as he raced along, faster than the skaven either side of him even. Fit little bugger.

After what only seemed like five minutes Rave stepped through the door and nodded to the staff sergeant. Play time was over.

"Alright lads, the corporal will look after you now. Off you go to the showers and behave yourselves."

"Come on, come on; move it, ladies!" the velociraptor trilled, tapping his swagger stick into a scaly hand for effect.

The wolf officer who was running the gym left.

Clinker stayed Welwyn with a grab of the shoulder; "not you," he murmured.

The elf looked quizzically at his staff sergeant. "Sir?"

Then he saw the general approaching, a crafty smile on his lips. It was just the three of them. "Now," he said brightly, pulling his sweat-soaked t-shirt over his head, "who's coming into the bubble spa?"

Clinker dashed for the side door, "ha! Last one in's a dirty do-gooder!"

The general was hot on his heels, flicking him with his clothing.

Welwyn opened the spa door. The officers were already making themselves comfortable in the frothy water. "I don't have any swimming briefs," he complained nervously.

"You hear that, Twink? Winny doesn't have anything to wear."

The big orc laughed, "join the club, kid!"

"Come on, lovely, strip yourself off and hop in. Don't worry about Twink, he doesn't bite," the general coaxed, "unless you want him to."

Welwyn cautiously undressed and, blushing, slid into the warm soothing water, sinking himself fully and emerging shaking his hair. Blinking to clear his eyes he watched transfixed as staff sergeant Clinker nuzzled into the general's neck, tenderly, pearly white tusks scraping against grey skin.

"Come here, you," Anar beckoned to the elf with a finger. Welwyn hesitated.

"He's shy," Clinker teased.

"Isn't he just?"

The young private edged closer and Anar wrapped an arm round his slim waist, ruffling wet feathers. "How's your day been, beautiful?"

"Good, thank you, sir."

"You're a speedy little fucker on that treadmill aren't you?"

Clinker laughed, "you always did have a way with words."

"Shush you," Anar grinned, splashing the orc playfully.

"Yes, daddy."

Welwyn took a sharp intake of breath. The two officers whipped their heads round to look at him.

"Ah," the general nodded, "this is an exception to the rule of not calling me daddy around others. You won't say anything, will you Twink?"

The orc shook his head, winking at the elf, "secret's safe with me." He greedily kissed his senior officer, his large green hands stroking at the aardvark's long ears. After a few minutes of this Clinker turned to the forest guardian; "are you just going to sit there?"

"I'm not really sure what's going on," he squeaked.

"A coy elf; gods help us."

"Now now, everyone starts somewhere," Anar reasoned, "let's not give him a scare. Winny, remember the lock-up?" He nodded. "Well it's like that, only we have a guest. We'd like you to join in when you're ready."

Welwyn nodded, slowly, and watched as his two superiors resumed kissing and touching each other happily.

"I've been looking forward to this all day," Clinker sighed, "It's been so long since we had fun together."

"I know Twink, I've missed you too," Anar murmured softly, "would you like daddy to be naughty?"

"Yes! I'm so fucking hard right now." They kissed some more and Clinker began moaning noisily, "oh yes, daddy, yes! Don't stop. That's so good. Oh!"

Welwyn looked at Anar, then at the staff sergeant and back again, dipping his hand into the water and beginning to rub at himself, aroused.

"I remember when you first fucked me," Clinker gasped, "it was so good I never wanted it to end."

"You'll always be special to me, Twink." He shoved the orc roughly against the tiled edge of the spa, running his long pink tongue down his partner's strong neck and working his hand up and down his throbbing shaft. "Show my little elf how it's done, Twink!"

"Yes, daddy," the big officer groaned, "I'm your good boy, I'll do anything for you, daddy. I'll be your dirty filthy boy if you let me cum for you! Please let me cum for you, daddy! I love it when you play with my dick. Fuck! Ohh fuck! I'm... gonna... cum; you're so bad, daddy!"

"Damn right I am," Anar snarled through gritted teeth as Clinker finished, gasping. He turned to Winny, his eyes flashing, "you hear that? That's what I like to hear from my good boys. You want daddy to touch you?"

"Yes!" Welwyn surprised himself at his eagerness, and blushed deeper, "erm, please?"

The general turned back to his orc, "you know what I want." Clinker nodded. He pulled himself up and sat on the edge of the pool, deftly lifting Welwyn out to sit next to him and pulling him close, running his large grey hands over the elf's damp body. He kissed his soft mouth and gently stroked his slender erection.

The forest guardian's wings dripped onto the tiling. "Oh that's amazing," he moaned, his voice wobbling slightly as the experience of being given a handjob by his hot older officer while also in the presence of another man overwhelmed him slightly. He closed his eyes to keep his cool. "That feels so good, daddy. Oh!" He rocked his hips as Anar's hand worked him faster. He heard the general's breathing become deeper and as they kissed he began groaning with pleasure. Welwyn opened his eyes again to see the staff sergeant's head bobbing between Anar's thighs, his mouth stuffed full of cock. His moaning intensified at the thrill of it all.

Anar grabbed at the short, black, spiky hair in front of him and roughly pushed Clinker's mouth deeper down his shaft with a growl, "Twink you dirty boy, you always did love my big fucking cock, get it all in there, come on!" He pushed his tongue back in Winny's welcoming mouth, the elf's lips slick with saliva. He could feel his climax approaching fast. "Fuck!" he moaned, biting down gently, feeling the cock he was playing with begin to pulse and throb.

Winny broke from the kiss, water dripping down his forehead, "I'm going to cum, daddy," he panted.

"Me too, Winny. Oh, me too." He closed his eyes as he jerked in Clinker's mouth, spilling himself over his tongue, pleasure flowing through every part of his body. Fuck! So fucking good!

Winny whined some more, then he too succumbed to his body's needs and Anar felt him pulse in his hand, coating his fingers in warm beads of dum. "Such good boys," he praised, contentedly. Clinker sat up on the pool edge with them. "Suck," Anar commanded, feeding the elf's cum to his orc. "So, who had fun, huh?" Clinker and Welwyn gave each other a sympathising look and shook their heads slightly. "Don't you fucking try and tell me you didn't enjoy getting tugged off, Twink, you tart!"

The big orc grinned. "It was alright. Thought I was getting a proper seeing to, though."

Anar humphed, "fine. Lock-up. Tonight."

Clinker's eyes twinkled under the spa spotlights; "now we're talking!"

Winny made a small noise in objection. The two officers turned to face him. "Yes?" But the elf just stammered. The general asked him again, firmer this time.. "Could..." he began, slowly. "Could I join in?" his trademark blush spread.

"Ha, ha! The elf's not so coy, now!" Clinker guffawed.

Anar stroked his little one's cheek; "I don't think you're ready to play with the big boys yet, sweetheart."

Welwyn looked down at the swirling water. "Ok, daddy."

"But you've been a very good boy today," he added quickly, "and daddy is very pleased with you. Go and have some drinks with your squaddies. Off you pop." Anar watched as his little elf padded off to the changing room with his clothes to dry off.

"You've got an absolute cracker there, sir," said Clinker, "how old is he? Nineteen? Ah, so young and pure."

Anar nodded, "yup. A total stunner and no mistake. He reminds me of someone else at that age." He gave the orc an intense look and they grabbed at each other hungrily, enjoying more kisses before agreeing to meet each other at midnight. They dressed and went their separate ways, the general slapping the staff sergeant's arse so hard the clap reverberated around the spa room.

General Warlock stood round a different sort of pool a few hours later. Corporal Rave had backed him into a corner here and he was definitely in a tricky position. One wrong move and it would be all over; a whole world of humiliation.

"You'll have to use the extension," the velociraptor teased, "you'll never manage otherwise."

"Shush! I'm concentrating!" he snapped, "don't rush me, I've got this."

I just need to come at it from another angle. One good thrust in the right place and I'll wipe the smirk off that dinosaur's long, scaly face. He took a gulp from his beer and moved round the table, calculating carefully.

"You'll definitely miss it from there, big ears!" the cocky raptor sang happily.

"Shut. The fuck. Up," Anar hissed through gritted teeth, reminding himself to reprimand the big green bastard later for using that insult again. He slid his cue to the white ball, determined to get this right. His eyes narrowed, his breathing paused. Drawing a muscular arm back, slowly, he smartly released his shot and the ball ricocheted around the table, coming to a rest against the last of the general's spotted balls that had been ganged up on in a corner by the corporal's plentiful stripes.

Rave pouted, sulkily, "fuck."

An impressed murmur rippled round the room - how did he do it? Every time the corporal put their general into a tight spot, he wiggled his way out of it.

If that stupid oaf stopped trying to ruin my game and just concentrated on his own for once, he'd probably get around to potting the damn black one day!

The rest of the game was plain sailing and Anar clapped his corporal on the back, chummily (which was always guaranteed to earn him a primal growl of murderous intent) "better luck next time!" he said, cheerily.

Rap stifled a laugh; "you're so mean to him, you should let him win sometime." They watched Rave stomp off, still seething.

"Drink?"

Rap accepted the offer, graciously. They headed to the bar. "So," he hissed, sipping, "how's things with your elf? His friend gave him a look. "Ooh, that good, huh? Are you seeing him later?"

"Actually no, I've got, er, an old flame booked for tonight."

This got the dinosaur's attention, "you have? Who?! No, no, don't tell me." He began to try and guess their identity.

Anar patiently waited a few moments. Rap was funny when he got his pointy teeth into gossip. "There aren't that many options, mate. You make it sound like I've slept with half my own army."

He pursed his thin raptor lips; "not for lack of trying!" he paused, "wait, is it... aww, is it your little Clinker? Mind you he's not so little anymore is he?" Anar laughed. Rap continued, "I remember when you two first started seeing each other, gosh that was a while ago now. His dusty knees; I knew you were getting up to things you shouldn't! Always wondered if those tusks ever got in the way of suck-"

Anar coughed, pointedly, having heard enough.

"Well I did! It's different for dinosaurs. We've got different... anatomy. No dangly bits"

He covered his face with his hand, despairingly, "fuck's sake." Rap tried to speak again. "No, just no. Shush, please." Silence. Good.

He finished his last beer and headed outside for some fresh air. The patio was full of officers and their civilian partners, sat on benches or standing around, enjoying their friday night together. A few nodded respectfully but most ignored him. He disliked being made a fuss of in his downtime. Disliked being made a fuss of full stop, really. The military was the last place he ever expected to end up; after escaping from Hell he'd hoped to have been sent back to his Earth where he could live with his uncle in the grand country house of his ancestors, learning more about the Warlocks who had lived there and eventually taking over the running of the estate. Instead, he and his childhood velociraptor friends Rap and Rave had been hurtled through time, space and dimensions to this funny planet inhabited by creatures straight out of World of Warcraft where a dragon had immediately approached him who, now he thought about it, may have been a little too friendly, and had eagerly announced that he had been waiting for Anar and would he like to run his army for him? Dragons should sit on hoards of treasure, not run military organisations. Yet here he was; a clueless ex-demon with shiny medals on his jacket answering to a dragon who had to wear sunglasses so he didn't accidentally hypnotise everyone he so much as glanced at. Kaos Army is an incredibly fitting name.

Leaning against the brittle fence that separated the mess from the sweeping low desert plain and bathed in the unnatural light from the overhead lamp he peered into the darkness ahead. Miles and miles of flat, hard, unforgiving ground that refused to nourish any kind of organic life. The only elevation in sight was the grassy bank on which he periodically sat and even that was just an old rubbish dump. It wasn't called the lowlands for nothing.

If you squinted really, really hard you could almost make out the distant perimeter of the base, with watch towers dotted along at regular intervals. The soldiers out there on patrol were all serving punishments of one kind or another; a policy of taking anyone no questions asked was bound to backfire in some cases. Even with their reputation there were still rules to be abided by and failing to follow them gave you a spell treading the ramparts alone for your trouble. Wargs would howl, strange mists would whisper and all who spent too much time out there came back changed and timid. Tales of demons, eldritch horrors, wisps and furies were common (and encouraged by senior staff, naturally) so much so that even the general no longer knew which stories had a ring of truth to them.

A skinny hand offering cigarettes slid into view followed by twitching whiskers. How generous, don't mind if I do.

"No lucky lady for you, tonight, either, sir?" the skaven sergeant-major asked, sympathetically, "it's not easy with faces like ours, eh?"

"That's one way of putting it." The buzz of nicotine made his head swim. He hadn't been a regular smoker since his days in the underworld.

"'Course, some men aren't into ladies," the rat continued, "takes all sorts I suppose."

"Yes," the general agreed carefully, "takes all sorts." Well this is a fine conversation to find myself in. He better watch what he says next or he'll be finding out if those patrol stories are true or not. Even a sergeant-major won't escape punishment from me.

"Someone saw a wight out there the other day," he squeaked, "or so they say."

Anar's brow furrowed, "what's a wight?" that's a new one.

"It's a kind of ghost," the skaven explained, "but extra spooky."

"Oh I don't know, sounds... all wight to me!"

"Pardon, sir?"

The grin quickly vanished from his face. "Never mind," he sighed. No-one appreciated his sense of humour; that was what an Earth upbringing got you. He had to dose his sarcasm out carefully, too. What was it Major-general Bellend had said about him? 'High wit and low intelligence'. Gods he was such an arsehole, and one even he wouldn't touch at that! Ha. That sodding griffon wouldn't know a joke if it poked him in his beaky face. Maybe he should refer to him as a pigeon, serve him right for all those donkey remarks.

An anguished wail of a thousand tortured souls drifted through the open door. Rave was at the karaoke again. He had a unique voice, one that was best appreciated from a great distance. Luckily it was midnight. Finally. Fun time. With a few more nods and waves the general exited the mess, made his way down the empty corridor through to the main reception (where Raz the she-orc usually sat shouting through the telecomms while throwing post at passing staff).

Even at this hour it was warm outside. The lowlands had two temperatures; scorching hot and fucking freezing. Summer and winter dominated with spring and autumn fleeting by in a blink-and-miss-it kind of way. It was quite unnerving to be wearing a t-shirt one day and seeing your first snowflake the next. He was sweating by the time he reached the lock-up, beginning to unbutton his shirt before reaching for the handle. Stepping inside, only a thin beam of moonlight betrayed the other occupant. Anar threw up the door lock and slid the window cover down, switching on the small lamp on the workbench. "Hey, Twink."

"Well hello, fancy seeing you here," the orc was sat on an old office chair with a blanket draped across his lap. The blanket. He wasn't wearing anything else, except a big grin which widened when he saw the general's open shirt.

Anar visibly hardened. "Daddy's going to touch you in your special place, and you're going to like it," he growled hungrily, "let's play 'What's under the blanket?'" he slid his hand along a muscular thigh, the woollen fabric shifting on top.

"Oh, yes," the orc sighed, trembling with anticipation. The blanket lifted as if by magic in the middle of Clinkers legs.

"Is somebody... excited?" Anar whispered into a green curved ear. Pulling at his slim leather belt, he unfastened his jeans and yanked them down to his ankles, shuffling them off along with his shoes. "I've got a present for my good boy. Would you like to unwrap it?"

The orc licked his plump lips, curling two chunky fingers around the hem of his general's Calvin Kleins and slowly pulled them down, hard grey cock springing out, ready for some action. "Just for me?" he blushed.

Anar stroked his cheek, tenderly, "Just for you." And he pulled the blanket onto the floor with a flourish, exposing Clinker's own hard member. "Look at the state of you," he breathed, "you sexy fucking orc, you." He roughly guided the tusked mouth over his tip and down his shaft, catching his breath as a rough wet tongue wrapped around tightly. "Daddy loves it when you suck him. He always has! You want me to touch you up?"

The orc struggled to nod, his mouth full.

Anar sighed contentedly, stroking his fingers up and down his orc's shaft, "I'm sorry for teasing you in the spa today, Twink. That little elf is so damn cute and I don't want to frighten him off. You've always been such a very good boy for me, that's why I kept you here at base, so I can enjoy you." Appreciating the attention a little longer, the general reluctantly pulled away, "let's open our special drawer, shall we?"

Clinker's voice purred behind him as he spun the lock, "can we play tie-up?"

Oh yes. Yes, we can. He flashed the orc a cruel smile, "tie-up it is.' So, with well practiced methods, the general bound the staff sergeant's large hands behind his back, stretched a soft cotton gag across his tusked mouth and covered his wild yellow eyes with a silk scarf. He sprawled his strong green body onto the old blanket that now lay on the dusty floor, his happy muffled grunts making the senior officer's heart race; "yes! This is what I want," he gasped, "a helpless, defenceless toy soldier to play with!" He was so hard, admiring the prone body squirming in front of him, he couldn't help but grab at his firm buttcheeks and give them a good smack. They jiggled wonderfully. More happy grunts came from his victim.

Where was that tickle stick?! He rummaged in the drawer. Ah! He slid the soft feather over the orcs huge feet, delighting in the little clenches they made and the way they rubbed against the blanket. He was such a tease. Drawing the feather up, agonisingly slowly, it brushed against his legs and inbetween his muscular thighs. Clinker fidgeted. The feather travelled over the orcs behind and back down to his groin. He swished it enticingly, watching as he spread his legs to eable the feather to run the length of his hard cock. That was a big moan that time. "Don't you dare get my tickle stick dirty," Anar warned, playfully, rubbing it along again. "Once more for luck," the feather made one last sweep. The orcs shoulders shook. "Ok, ok, daddy will give you what you want, you horny boy."

He put down the feather, squirting lube liberally onto himself, barely containing his excitement. "Come here, you!" Kneeling on the blanket he put the big orc officer between his legs, spreading his cheeks with his hands. "Daddy's going to do naughty things to you," Anar whispered, pushing his tip inside, "very naughty. Moan if you want it!"

Clinker wailed through the cloth frantically.

"Ok then!" He thrusted deep inside; fuck that was good! It was a tight fit but the lube did it's job and he penetrated him fully, giving him what he'd wanted all day.

The orc slumped his head down onto the blanket, his short spiky black hair glistening with sweat, lost in the pleasure he was receiving.

Grabbing onto those lovely buttcheeks, Anar jerked his hips; stuffing the delighted orc full again and again, feeling his whole body twitch and shake beneath him. As he pounded him relentlessly, the general moved a hand around to Clinker's neglected dick and gave it a good tug and rub. "Are you going to make a mess for daddy?" he asked, "I can't hear you!"

Poor Clinker howled through the gag; it sounded a lot like 'oh fuck, yes!'

This was why he'd said 'no' to Winny when he'd asked to join in - his orc boys got the rough treatment; the smacks, the toys, the restraints, the frantic ass smashing. And all on an old blanket that probably should have been thrown in the incinerator a long time ago. His beautiful elf would have quilts and pillows, soft touches and gentle kisses, murmurs of encouragement and a nice sensual fuck face to face instead of taking from behind like this. Thinking of Winny's naked body was making him groan loudly, so pale and slender with those tight muscles of his, those bright blue eyes and that soft mouth that he fantasised stuffing with his erect dick. Gently, of course.

"Twink you fucking cum slut; you dirty filthy boy! Daddy's being so naughty and you love it, don't you?" he snorted, still thrusting wildly into his orc lover.

More pleading grunts and moans came from the floor.

"I'm going to cum in you, you dirty bad boy. Gonna fill you up just how you like it!" slowing down to purposeful, deep pushes he delayed his orgasm just a short while longer while he wanked the staff sergeant off to climax.

Now, now he could release, flooding that mighty ass full of his seed until he felt he would burst. "Oh you filthy boy, you dirty bad boy. Such a good boy." he grabbed at the bonds, pulled off the gag and blind and pulled the now dripping lower ranking officer into a close embrace, cuddling and kissing on the floor, the blanket twisted and creased from their enthusiastic activities. They enjoyed this tender moment together, every kiss a reminder of the love they once cherished. His lovely orc boy. Now very much a man, he would never be small and cute again but he was still so eager to please. Whenever he felt alone or unloved, he would be there for him; willing and able to play and pleasure him. In return, Anar made sure that Clinker never wanted for anything.

"What are you doing with the new boys tomorrow?" the general asked, kissing a sweaty neck messily.

"It's the assault course," he replied, stroking the general's chest and playing with his dogtag, "should be good for a laugh."

"Make sure my Winny getsextra dirty, won't you?"

They shared a look and Clinker laughed, "Ohh he won't like that."

"Don't worry, I've plans to clean him up good after."

"Thought you'd say that."

When Anar finally climbed into his big empty bed it was already early morning.Neither he nor the staff sergeant had been in a rush to clean up and dress, so they had laid in each others capable arms far longer than they had meant to. They'd walked back hand in hand thanks to the lack of onlookers. It was silly really, Rap and Rave were never shy with their public displays of affection; so why was he so scared to do the same? Oh, yeah, because being openly Free would leave him exposed to even more ridicule than he was now, and it was a lot. This was to be expected when you were the proud and noble leader of the Bad Guys. The yin to major-general Swiftwing's yang. Fucking Light Federation. He snored into his pillow, dreaming of griffon burgers.