A Gruff Whore
A Gruff Whore A commissioned story for Adamslion A green hulking mass of muscle and sinew wrapped in leather straps and metal plates walks into the strippers club. His gruff exterior is accented by one of two tusk-like teeth jutting out of his mouth having its tip broken, lost long ago in some fierce battle. His name is Melthor, warlord of the easterly tribe and renowned crusher of skulls. His two favourite axes swing from his hips, chained to his belt, as he walks into the crowd of patrons. Smaller, lesser males make way for him as the ugly killer gets closer to the stripper girls. Azure blue and golden yellow skinned elven beauties are prostrating themselves against reflective ebony poles. Melthor smiles a toothy grin as he looks up as one of the slim minxes rubs her ass against her dancing pole. In the hot and humid room full of sweaty males, the perfect females are glistening with perspiration. The beautiful blue bitch the orc is staring at has drops of silvery sweat running over her perfect breasts and slipping into her cleavage. Melthor is not the only one who has their mouth open at this point as she reaches back to untie the little knot keeping her thin bikini on. It quickly falls to the ground and a roar comes from the crowd. Though Melthor's voice stands out from the group. As the elven girl squeezes her two bouncy orbs together he starts to make advances which are more lewd and outrageous than than the normal ones. The girl ignores him though, as she ignores most all the things said by her audience unless they are offering her fresh gold to pave those words. Melthor though is not used to simply being ignored, neither by his friends nor enemies, and especially not by the females he lords over back in the tribe. Very quickly the situation spirals out of control, some of the crowd are cheering whilst the others protest, but regardless of them the orc climbs up onto the dance floor. The girls stop and panic for a moment, the others cower away as Melthor grabs the blue elf by her left arm, his other large hand going for her right breast. She tries to pull away but he tells her to shut up and like it. The stripper can feel the heat from the warlord's body as something bulges in the crux of his pants and he shoves her down onto the floor. Before she can do anything else the girl's legs are spread apart and the disgusting tongue of the green Orc is pressed against her vulva lips. But then something grabs the brutish orc from behind. A grip stronger than temped axe steel pulls Melthor back and away from the elf girl's exposed pussy. He tries to grab one of his axes to sever the arms that drag him away but the strong hands quickly change position to pin his arms to his torso. The crowd voice conflicting opinions as the massive minotaur pulls the warlord off his employee. Holding the green man aloft he carries him away and takes Melthor into the back room. An enraged orc is tossed down onto a cold stone paved floor. He snarls and gets back up only for the powerful minotaur to knock him back down with a mighty blow across Melthor's face. His senses return and the warlord is aware of his axes missing and a chain wrapped around his arms and legs. Even as he buckles and struggles in the ground, the towering hoofed man explains that the chain is made of silvery dwarves metal; there is no chance a mere orc no matter how tough is going to break free from it. "What the fuck is this then? Do you know who I am and what I can do to your bitch ass?" Melthor is not used to being resisted, let alone overpowered by someone. What is even worse is that the minotaur he is bad mouthing is in fact the owner of the club. "I don't really care who you are, but I do care that you assaulted and was about to rape one of my girls." "She was asking for i-" The orc is interrupted off before he can finish his sentence. "What really bothers me the most though is that you didn't pay when you came in here." The minotaur's words are punctuated by a tone the orc is unfamiliar with. Melthor looks up at the large hairy beast, from hooves to horns he stands some ten feet tall and dresses like something out of a psychedelic goth dance club. Despite the odd appearance though the orc is starting to catch up on how seriously this guy could fuck him over. "Fine I'm sorry and I'll give you the gold I owe. Now get this chain off of me!" Melthor's apology is pitiful and is most certainly not enough for the club owner. He does have an idea in mind for how the orc can show is true repentance. Turning his back on the warlord for a second, the minotaur walks over to where a cluttered wooden desk sits on the corner of the building's basement. On it there are papyrus scrolls, a couple boxes and a special little gem the club owner has for special occasions. He picks it up and examines the rectangular emerald stone. It hums softly with an enchantment that took a fair amount of gold to get. He opens one of the boxes and takes out a small gun-like device; it is part wood and part clockwork with brass cogs and gears. Curiously though the firearm is not made for shooting metal slugs but bolts of magicka. "What are you doing there? Hey don't fucking ignore me!" Melthor the rude, Melthor the angry, Melthor the helpless. The club owner can hardly wait to see the change in the orc. Holding the gem up to his lips, the minotaur whispers soft words of power, words of binding magic that prime the enchanted emerald. With that done he now pushes the green gemstone into a chamber in the back of the gun. He snaps the case shut and pulls back the hammer. Turning around the minotaur glares down at the scowling orc. No way is he going to simply let the stranger just go after upsetting his establishment. He aims the muzzle of the gun at Melthor and only now does the expression on the warlord's face soften into something like fear; although with orcs it is always hard to tell. "No! Don't sh-" The gun fires, a green bolt of energistic light splashes across the orc's chest. It breaks into tendrils of tingling power, seeping into the man's torso, sinking in beneath his battle armour, into his skin and down to where it surges through his very bones. "AAAARRRGH!" The minotaur watches with a smile on his face, this is always his favourite part. Accursed magicka infects the orc's body, twisting his very mind along with his form. Now that the curse has ahold of the man's entire body it strips away everything above his thick green skin. The dwarven metal chain falls to the floor, as do his metal armour, with leather straps shredding into pieces. A naked, ugly and brutish male orc falls onto his hands and knees. Melthor is powerless to resist the transformative powers of the curse, he can feel it ebb and weaves across his body until it focuses on his abdomen and his crotch. With detached horror, the orc's mind is aware of a sickening sensation as his genitalia starts to move and change in size. His green phallus and accompanying ballsack is shrinking into his crotch. Melthor can see it for himself with his head hanging down; the sight of his proud malehood disappearing is heartbreaking for the orc warlord. But for the minotaur it is a satisfying piece of justice, although only halfway complete. What happens next is even more shocking to Melthor, sending his sense of disbelief into a mind reeling manoeuvre. "What... what is this?!" Panic rises out of the warlord's throat followed by a breathy gasp. Something shifts inside of him until ever so slowly a slit starts to slide its way into existence along his crotch. His pubic hair shifts to wrap around the lips of what is now a fully functioning orc pussy. Melthor expects for his masculine pecs to suddenly balloon out, but no such ballooning occurs. The minotaur's little alteration to the orc's physical form is complete, the warlord is now a cuntboi. However one little touch is yet to be added. Still ensnared by the magicka, the warlord is powerless to resist the club owner lifting his head up and staring into his eyes with glowing yellow spheres. Intrinsic psychic ability from the minotaur grasp at the chords of the orc's consciousness. Personality is warped into something more sexually submissive, more approachable than what was there only a moment ago. However the essence of the orc remains, just enough to feel the humiliation that is next to come. "Now you are complete." The minotaur stands back with a wide grin. He instructs the orc to stand up and proceeds to admire his handiwork. Walking around to the green man's back he smacks his backside with an almighty swing. Melthor jumps forward and yelps, instinctively reaching back to rub his ass cheek. The only thing now left that is masculine of the orc are his muscles, gruff exterior and his voice. Sexual organs, lustful appetites and minor personality changes are all new additions. Now the only thing left to do is for the minotaur to get his new "girl" out there. Thankfully there are always some, especially gifted customers, that need a rough piece of ass to fuck and they should be milling around inside the club right about now. The club owner sneers at the orc and barks an order to get up. Melthor does as he is told to, not sure why his body is complying so quickly. "W-What did you do to me?" It is a strange feeling for the warlord, not just the physical alterations but the psychological ones. He looks up into the minotaur's gold eyes and somewhere in the back of his head is a voice telling him to obey, to comply, to submit. "I would think the changes are quite obvious, but this isn't the part where we have a nice chat about it. Out there," the minotaur points to the exit, "are customers who need some service. Go." The last word is said with added emphasis and the orc now finds himself moving towards the steps up out of the basement. "Ah but before you go." Melthor is stopped as the minotaur holds up some kind of pink thong, conveniently actually in the orc's size. With a flushed expression the warlord does as his new "master" instructs and threads the garment through both legs before stepping back into the club. As some small comfort almost no one seems to recognise Melthor, as without his armour he looks quite a lot different. That is still a small comfort though as he walks through the crowd and people stare at him with expressions ranging from repulsion to leering intrigue. He makes his way onto the little dance floor and the girls recognise from earlier, sharing knowing grins. This is the best kind of repayment they could ever have and is one of many reasons they enjoy working here. Melthor does not need to be shown the ropes, somehow the knows the gyrating moves, the timed winks at voyeurs and the... flexible moves he has to perform with his bulky thighs. Whilst performing his pre-programmed act, one of the patrons starts to show an obvious liking to the cuntboi. A heavily built up centaur, along with two troll friends of his, share an unusual set of tastes in both women and men. He cradles his flagon of black rum as the orc presses his hairy butt against the pole and starts to rub against it. In an instant he makes up his mind and walks over to the bar where the minotaur is once again tending. A proposition ready. "Talvor!" He greets the club owner by shouting his name with a booming voice. "How is business?" "It is as good as always, but I know you're not interested in me. You've noticed the orc over there, right Gorlang?" "Indeed I have my old friend. Looks like a new addition to your little troupe." "You have no idea." Talvor the minotaur has to suppress laughing at the great timing. "Long time since we've had a cuntboi though, I'll have to charge you extra." "Oh? Why's that?" "Virgin pussy. That always costs extra." Talvor knows he is going to have his palm full of gold as the fire rages behind Gorlang's eyes. "Good thing we've just come back from a raid then." A hefty pouch filled with clinking gold, and a little silver, drops onto the bar. The club owner nods at his valued customer. "I believe room three is available. Plenty of oil in the dressing table too."
Melthor is thrown into the room by the imposing centaur. The large orc stumbles and trips over his own large feet. Thankfully the large king sized bed is waiting for him and he drops into it headfirst. Two blue skinner trolls are closing in on him, whilst the centaur is locking the door behind them. Slender yet strong fingers slide over the back of his hairy green legs and sink into his muscular buttocks before moving on. The two troll boys are twins called Yogz and Fir. It has been far too long for the virile men and they are eager to sink their fingers, and certain other things, into fresh meat. "Tough orc boy, he should last longer than the last one." Yogz cackles as he slips down onto the bed, pushing his face underneath the orc he sniffs at his novel new boy cunt. His long blue tongue unfurls from his mouth and takes a long lick at the warlord's snatch before it dives in for a quick frolicking and retreats back into Yogz mouth to taste. Melthor's vagina is left quivering, his juices beginning to flow for the very first time making the orc's face blush. "What does he taste like Yogz?" Fir asks the other troll, but he already knows as from the corner of his eye he sees his brother's loincloth begin to tent by an alarming amount. For his own part Fir is starting to knead the orc's hairy green buttocks, pressing his thumbs into the crevice so as it help loosen him up. "Like the sweetest of fruits." The last word is a little muffled as Yogz dives in for a second helping. This time his tongue reaches further than before, exploring but not yet stretching the cuntboi. Poor Melthor feels trapped as though he is trapped inside a female's submissive body. He wants to resist but the programming, not to mention the sensation, is not allowing him to snap the trolls' necks. As the situation is though the orc just shivers and starts rubbing himself against the troll's filthy mouth. Then Fir's tongue rolls out of his mouth and lands with a wet smack onto the welcoming green ass before it. Melthor squirms more as he feels the other troll start to rim his anus, wet troll saliva making him slick and well lubricated. A gasp comes from the warlord as Fir's tongue spears into his anus. Melthor moans profusely as the two troll brothers start to perform oral service to both of his orifices, caressing his insides with a delicate care only practised lovers can perform. Gorlang has been watching his two fighting, drinking and fucking buddies draw out of the orc's inner sex slave. Removing his armour piece by piece, the big and powerful centaur reveals his half man, half equine body. Rippling pectorals and abdominal muscles are the icing on his hard worn torso. Greasy blond hair clumps into bands that run down his back. His horse half is comparable to a great warhorse, a brown furred stallion with powerful legs and a broad thick body. Of course between his hind legs, hangs his centaurhood that droops close to the ground with the flaccid organ just now starting to become erect. "Let me see him now." Gorlang's voice booms and the troll brothers obey. They stop licking and slurping at the orc, Yogz wiping his mouth, as they sit Melthor up for their leader. He approaches the ugly cuntboi and reaches out to stroke his bristly chin and smiles at him. "Oh you're a tough little cookie aren't you?" Melthor has no words to voice, his mind reeling with its internal conflict. His word is out of alignment, out of focus, out of whack. All that he is sure of is that male scents are rising into the air and his pussy is starting to soak the bed linen. It does not matter though since the centaur has plans enough of his own. Barking orders at Yogz and Fir, he tells the trolls to lay Melthor on the floor and carry on giving him some exercises. They nod and throw the warlord onto the ground before the centaur. He looks behind him and sees them remove their loincloths, long and veiny blue troll phalluses throbbing to painful attention. The orc's attention is momentarily diverted from the trolls closing in on his rear when Meltor notices the underbelly of the centaur. His eyes go wide, as his mouth hangs loose, the sheer unparalleled size of Gorlang's still-growing erection stares the warlord eye to eyes. It is pseudo-equine, yet has a foreskin like a man which is starting to drip with musky juices onto the ground below. Melthor realises that the centaur is moving forward, his dick about to meet the cuntboi's face. Troll dicks, very long and deep reaching, rub against the orc's rump. The brothers cannot quite decide, they keep shifting their dicks, teasing to force both of them inside one hole and then the other. Their pre oozes onto him and the cuntboi orc feels a tingling shiver run up along his spine. Then one of them moves in, it's Yogz, his cock pierces the now very moist folds of the warlord's virgin pussy. He cries out with guttural sounds reminiscent of his times on the battlefield; but this time instead of metal it is tempered flesh that is clashing. Yogz laughs with a lusty expression fixed on his face, for a moment his brother is jealous of him getting first go at a virgin snatch. But Fir soon joins in, thrusting alongside his brother. The trolls synchronise their movements as they stretch the warlord wide open. He opens his mouth to scream out in ecstasy, only for the cuntboi to have to stuffed with the fat head of Gorlang's semi-erect leviathan. Melthor shouts over it, his lips curling around the flaring tip of the centaur's huge black malehood. But then the taste of it starts to fill the orc's senses, to say nothing of the incredibly strong smell rising up into his nose. The warlord falls in love in an instant, reaching out with both of his rough hands to grab the rod that is as big as his arm. His tongue slides and slips around, teasing the large slit of the centaur's penis making Gorlang's bellow with commendations. "Fuck boss, you gotta try this pussy?" Yogz comments, his eyes rolling back as he takes slow and deep thrusts with Fir. Their twinned assault is sending shockwaves of pleasure through the orc causing him to moan over the centaur's cock as he starts to go down on it. "Good, make sure he is stretched out good for me in a bit then." Melthor hears this and whimpers with expectation, but the rest of him is too busy quivering for the troll boys. Yogz and Fir know how to use their tools, not only do they reach deep but are fucking the cuntboi with a legendary ferocity. The former for his part takes to slapping the orc's robust ass like a plaything. Fir though is content to let his nuts do the slapping, rhythmically and with a wet smacking sound. Their quarry can do nothing but clench his vagina around their intruding members, his internal muscles clamping down with a velvet smoothness that only makes them fuck him even harder. But that is enough, as Melthor has enough to deal with the centaur who is now beginning to try thrusting into the warlord's mouth and stuff his throat. It is like a tempestuous serpent, even the centaur has little in the way of control of it. A certain flick from his tongue or a squeeze in a certain spot with his hands and Melthor has to struggle to keep controlling of the phallus bucking around inside his mouth. The only hope he has is to keep taking it down his throat, and that is exactly what he now does. It oozes down his throat, gaining ground inch after inch as the rough orc summons as much strength as he can to keep it from lifting him off the ground and against the Gorlang's belly like some doll. Tears stream down the warrior's green skinned face. Is this a sign of weakness? Of being overwhelmed or of his new gender? Melthor is unsure of himself, but he is sure that he wants this dick, as much as he can handle. Gorlang is most impressed, he shouts more words of approval about the orc's yard working tongue and tight lips. He pushes forward, his hoofed feet edging closer to the two blue trolls as he impales himself down Melthor's throat. His erection is absolute now, fully engorged with a veiny mass that throbs heat and power, the head spewing a constant flow of pre-cum down into the cuntboi's gullet. What little of it collects in Melthor's stomach seems to warm him like a strong spirit, a very unusual sensation but one that the orc enjoys. Suddenly a dams break, a loud commotion comes from both of the troll boys as they reach their limits. The warlord's virgin tight pussy has brought them to their limits and then dragged them over kicking and screaming. With a mighty uproar Yogz and Fir empty their seed-laden balls with a massive dual-shot eruption inside Melthor. He squeals over the centaur's throbbing cock as their hot spunk jets into his pussy. Melthor is a big lad, but not that big, as those dangling blue testicles of the trolls provide more than enough for the cuntboi's fill. White cream drips from out of the green man, pouring back down over the trolls' cocks. Large globs of it drip down onto the floor and splat against it making a messy pattern around their feet. The big centaur pulls away from the orc and his long, thick shaft comes free, dripping with pre and saliva. Melthor looks longingly at it before he is interrupted by a large arm scooping him up. He is thrown once more onto the bed by Gorlang, his pussy dripping with the lubricating cum from the trolls. The orc is told to spread his legs out and the cuntboi obeys, smiling to himself as he understands what is coming next. Warm body heat radiates onto Melthor's back before the velvet soft belly of the centaur's equine body rubs against it. That is nothing compared to the hot and wet sensation of the large man's equally large phallus as it rubs against the cuntboi's rear. He clenches his cheeks, squeezing it a little as Gorlang's movements result in an erratic thrusting against the orc's green butt. The centaur chuckles, appreciating the orc's eagerness he reaches down to stroke his head and gently bites his neck. "You are mine for the rest of the night now orc." He coos into Melthor's ear and then looks behind him at the two trolls. "Leave us, and be sure to be give Talvor my compliments." As the trolls walk out of the room the centaur's body is sliding back. His organ spills a path of tacky pre across Melthor's lower back. It slips into position, falling down and then underneath the orc, it presses against his wet cum-dripping pussy. Melthor can feel its massive head, throbbing, heaving, drooling like a wild beast. The burly arms of the centaur hold around the orc's own, it is almost a tender moment. Looking from the corner of his eye, past his shoulder, the warlord thinks he can see an almost warm and gentle look on the other warrior's face. However he is mistaken and the way he is speared into by the well endowed four-legged male should be no surprise by this point. "FFFFFUUUUCCCK!" A guttural scream rolls out of the cuntboi's toothy mouth, his hips shaking as his pussy clenches down hard and fast. Gorlang shows no mercy, no respite, his advance is as sure as some enemy hoards Melthor has known. Expletives, less than complimentary barrel out of the stern centaur. Bitchboy, cum bucket, the world's ugliest condom; the centaur's lexicon could use some development. However words do not matter anymore, not with the way the bed is rocking now, even the floor and walls start to shake. After carving his way into the cuntboi's orifice, Gorlang is now using rapid movements made easy with his powerful four legs, even as oddly positioned as he is on the bed. Two massive, pendulous black testicles come crashing down against the orc's flesh with a satisfying smacking sound. Fresh juices, both from the vagina and the penis makes the passage even slicker, a good thing too considering the way Melthor's belly is starting to distort with each thrust inside of him. He cannot control himself and orgasm after orgasm come down in progressive flurries upon the centuarhood. Gorlang is treated in a wonderful experience as he feels the robust cuntboi grip, squeeze, twist, stroke, milk and perform some other motion on his cock which he cannot even identify. The centuar's face is twisted into the perfect image of a male on the edge, his ripped chest and torso now glistening with hot sweaty perspiration. The room is filled with the scents of male sweat, vaginal sex and a deep equine musk. All the way through this Melthor has been gripping onto bed, but now even that is coming apart. With an almighty noise two things happen at once. First the bed falls apart, splintered wood shoots off in multiple directions as it falls to the floor, generation quite the thud that can be heard even downstairs where music is playing. The second is the noise of two large and grizzled males climaxing together, one clamping down hard with his pussy on the other ones bucking member. An eruption, a flood, a veritable torrent dwarfing the performance of the two troll boys fills and then breaks the limited room of the orc's now thoroughly broken in cunt. He drools into a straw stuffed pillow, tongue hanging out limply as he feels the other male ejaculating deep inside of him, a serenely comfortable with this. Five minutes later Talvor opens the door, pushing past two trolls protesting that he should give them time first. Concern about being responsible for the death of someone he only just met is laid to rest as he beholds the sight of an ugly orc cuntboi squeezing the last drops out of a centaur's softening python. He scratches the fur between his horns and wonders at what point his thrall spell would have worn off.