Part III: An Unheeded Warning
Ranzen's victory and humiliation of Hurk in the old arena had effectively shattered the confidence of man's king. This sudden rival, this young and fresh stallion, had come charging into his life and left his ego in pieces. Seconds after Ranzen had lifted the crown from his head and placed it atop his own, the defeated man was given a choice: he could hang his head in shame and flee the kingdom... or he could choose to be enslaved for the new king's pleasure.
For nearly two months, Ranzen held his new slave, the former king's beefy body against his own, their hot sweat and firm muscle slapping together during their many nights together in the royal bedchamber. With Ranzen's every orgasm inside the middle-aged king's tight hole, they both relived that day that forever changed the course of man. They both remembered the day that Ranzen came marching into Greystone Castle, holding the massively-muscular body of the fallen king high above his head like the ultimate prize of a dangerous hunt. Hurk sucked his dominator's cock before his guards and licked from his hole, verifying this new man as king. And since that day, he'd been a faithful and obedient servant of King Ranzen, tending to his every desire.
But one night, as King Ranzen slept peacefully in his large bed, Hurk decided that he'd had enough. He had to move on with his life. The old king looked at his master's sleeping form. For a brief second, he considered attacking him and retaking the throne. But it was far too late for that. His body had become too accustomed to the pleasures of submitting to another. He could never lead his people the way he used to. It was Ranzen's time to lead the human race to prosperity.
"Goodbye, my conqueror," he whispered, leaning down to kiss the lips of the man who rightfully bested him for the throne. He moved his mouth up to the headpiece he once wore above his brow and kissed the silver crown twice, bidding it, too, farewell. With nothing but the sandals under his feet, Hurk left the castle and journeyed out into the night. He would find somewhere he belonged.
The next morning, King Ranzen was livid. He had become accustomed to focusing his increased libido on the older man, and without him, the new King of Men found his cock constantly throbbing, always aching for release. But more than that, Ranzen had developed a fondness for Hurk that he never was able to express before the weathered stud had abandoned him.
Ever since then, Ranzen was known to bring those he found attractive into his throne room (and his large bedchamber) to alleviate his constant arousal. The people loved their king and wished him well, gladly offering themselves to help relieve his stress.
A familiar face soon entered the throne room. It was Kal Flint, a young buck with auburn hair who was born in a neighboring coastal village before being brought to Brunnr to be raised to adulthood.
Kal had dutifully served King Hurk for years as a royal messenger before this new man had ascended to the throne. He'd spoken with Hurk a few times since the old king's enslavement, and each time, Hurk had urged the youth to follow Ranzen with the same devotion. Kal nodded and swore his devotion to the crown, regardless of who currently bore it.
King Ranzen mounted the kneeling blacksmith as he neared his climax. He looked up to see that Kal was watching them. Ranzen grunted to himself, wondering what was so important. But Kal didn't say anything to interrupt; he merely waited for his king to finish before he spoke up. Ranzen drove his cock forward twice more before uttering a leonine roar and unloading his pent-up seed deep inside his newest lover.
Ranzen and the blacksmith breathed deeply and groaned as they recovered from their orgasms, the king's big hands roaming slowly over the commoner's muscular chest and abs, groping here and there. The blacksmith slowly pulled himself off of his king's manhood and clenched his inner muscles, trapping that royal seed inside him. He kneeled before Ranzen and gave his reverence before walking out and back to the smithy to return to work.
"Now, Kal... What is it?" Ranzen sighed, leaning back in his throne and watching the young buck with his steely eyes. The king's meaty cock rose to full erection once again as he looked over Kal's fit body. He flashed the messenger a smirk and spread his legs a little more, giving him a better view.
"Your Majesty," he spoke, trying to not stare at the king's throbbing manhood or the precum it drooled down its plump shaft. "It's about the orcish incursions. We've received word from the southern garrison that deliveries from its assigned farm are four days late. The men there have been unable to investigate — they're under constant attack by the orcs. And—"
"And nothing, Kal," Ranzen interrupted with a tired grunt. "When they're not scratching their asses, those damned greenskins are always attacking. Our men will drive them off like they always have. There's nothing to worry about. Now, if that's all, why don't you kneel down here and give your king proper tribute."
"Nnh, good..." Ranzen moaned, enjoying the sensations that Kal was so eagerly giving him. Initially, he'd only meant to tease the devoted messenger. He never expected the younger man to actually follow through with his request, never realized that Kal lusted for him in such a way. "Perhaps you'd like to visit my bedchamber this evening..."
Part IV: Journey to Grohmah
Lortho Orcbane hailed from the western region of Greystone: the Kingdom of Men, in a small village called Hurkshelm, 30 miles from the Savage Mountains where the ogres dwelled. A horse trainer for as long as he could remember, the muscular stud had an enviable skill for finding the finest wild stallions and breaking them into domestication. Life was good in Hurkshelm. Orc interactions were minimal and the villagers were well-protected by the patrolling guards sent to them by their new king, Ranzen.
It was only five months after Ranzen took command of the human kingdom that his relatively-peaceful life took a drastic turn for the worse. Orcish incursions were becoming more frequent as the days passed, and their aggressions seemed to intensify with every battle. Lortho and the men of Hurkshelm managed to stave off the orcs, but they began to believe that they were fighting a losing battle.
Unseen during the night, orc spies had taken to drizzling their precum onto the unguarded food supplies of Hurkshelm, ‘poisoning' it with the substance that sexually-aroused mankind. Those who ate the tampered food grew anxious. Their cocks hard and their mouths yearning for something they couldn't identify, men were randomly leaving the village, sometimes seen wandering into orc encampments unwilling to return to their homes.
Lortho realized that something was wrong with the food. But by then, it was too late. He was the last one left, and the orcs were coming. Helpless to resist the horde of greenskins, the dark-tanned human fled Hurkshelm with only the loincloth clinging to his hips. With none left to oppose them, the orcs of Grohmah lay claim to the village and its animals. They gathered the gold and jewels from houses and food from the shacks before setting fire to the village that reeked of the smell of man. They roared their adoration of Overlord Krag's name and his mission as they watched the human settlement burn to ashes. They took great pride in the small, symbolic victory in their leader's plans for total domination.
"You will pay for this, beasts," Lortho spat, squatting low in the nearby forest. The blaze illuminated everything in orange and cast its heat far and wide. Lortho grunted and moved deeper into the forest, unable to bear watching the orcs' celebration any longer. He kept moving until their songs of victory had gone completely silent.
Two days later...
Lortho's journey to Grohmah was going slow. The only thing keeping him moving was his repeated vow of vengeance for the destruction of Hurkshelm. The hot sun beat down upon the human's sweat-laced muscular shoulders, wearing unmercifully on him.
He followed the river south, knowing that the orcs would have established their capital city somewhere nearby. He'd entered orc territory and had begun seeing their banners standing proudly across the plains, fluttering on the winds of change. Tired and eager to quench his thirst, the naked human knelt by the river and dunked his hand into its cool contents.
"Haagh..." he groaned, gulping down the fresh water. Another groan, deep and low came from somewhere nearby, startling the human from his drink. Lortho turned in time to get a meaty, green kneecap smashing into his face, sending him falling by the river's edge!
"Augh!!" Lortho cried out, hitting the grass with a thud. The form of a massive, nude orc stood over his downed body, chilling him instantly. The mohawk-haired greenskin placed his hands together and popped his knuckles menacingly. He rolled his head, popping his neck with a satisfied grunt. He then brought his big foot high up and drove it down to the human's chest! Lortho managed to roll away just before that battering ram flattened him!
"Bastard... I'll break your back for what you did to Hurkshelm!!" Lortho roared, getting to his feet and assuming a fighter's stance. The big orc had nothing to do with Lortho's village being torched, but he never answered the human's accusations.
The narcissistic, bodybuilding orc lifted his arms in a double bicep pose for the softskin. His mammoth, green pecs bounced quickly, successfully intimidating Lortho. The orc's grin grew broader. Adding to the greenskin's ego, no man, orc, dwarf, or ogre had ever managed to resist staring his way when he struck pose after perfect pose. For Gorg, there was no greater pleasure than another's envious glance upon his perfection. And he was always happy to let them look.
But what Gorg attempted to hide by mesmerizing everyone else with his routine was his human-sized orchood. So in awe by his body and his way of showing it off, very few of them ever noticed his smaller-than-average cock. Even as it was entering them and enjoying their holes, the orc made his conquests worship his muscles, completely forgetting whatever he lacked in size.
"Come, puny human," the hulking bodybuilder grumbled through his unerasable smirk. "Your friends are waiting for you. And so are mine..."
"My... my friends?"
"They were so eager to tell us everything they knew about your kind," Gorg spoke, flexing his pecs again as he stepped closer. "Once they arrived in Grohmah, they spilled their guts just for a chance to suck all the orc cock they could see. And then they told us about you, boy. I came to find you myself."
Lortho was aghast at what he was hearing. Humans... enjoying sucking orc cock? Unfathomable! Lortho lowered his head and looked away from the hulking, green stud moving closer and closer...
"Don't worry..." Gorg grunted, grabbing hold of Lortho's black locks and driving his knee into the human's face! Lortho grunted in shock, his knees buckling and finally giving out. The man cried again as the orc held him upright by his hair alone and groped his muscular chest with his big hand. "...You'll really like mine when you try it."
Lortho growled at the idea and sent his balled fist flying up and into the orc's heavy orbs! Gorg howled in agony and released his opponent, falling to the grassy ground and clutching his sensitive balls! Paralyzing jolts of pain surged throughout his body as he groaned and struggled to nurse his wounded groin back to health.
The human took full advantage of the orc's incapacity. He leapt high into the air and brought his meaty shin down onto Gorg's big pecs.
"GRUHH!!" the orc grunted with the new pains, moving his other hand to comfort his pectorals. He hadn't expected the human to be this ruthless. He'd been watching Lortho's travels into orc territory for some time and moved to strike when he assumed the man was at his weakest moment.
"GRUUH! GRUH!! GRUUHHHH!!" he groaned as Lortho's foot slammed again and again into his exposed abs, pummeling the rock-hard muscle into jelly.
"YOU... WILL... PAY... FOR... HURKSHELM!!" the human roared as he stomped, focusing his hatred against all things orc toward Gorg.
But Lortho's attack was short-lived, however, when he felt the hand of the titanic bodybuilder on his ankle. Gorg's powerful hand squeezed around the softskin's twig of an ankle like it were a dumbbell and effortlessly yanked him from his footing, causing his muscular body to topple to the grass.
"Uwaaahh!" Lortho yelped as he fell, his leg still upright and his ankle still held firmly by the orc. The next thing that he heard was Gorg snorting like a bull before feeling the strange sensation of being upside down as he was lifted from the earth.
The orc snarled aggressively as he sent his fist into the human's back and side, eliciting howls of pain from the smaller stud. Over and over again, Lortho Orcbane's beefy lat muscles were broken down with little resistance. Now and then, Gorg went for the man's vulnerable balls, grabbing at them and squeezing to give him just a taste of the agony that he'd experienced.
"No... no more... p-please..." Lortho finally groaned as Gorg's powerful arms wrapped around his torso and squeezed him tightly. "I... I surrender..." he huffed, his hand weakly slapping the greenskin's outer thigh for respite.
But Gorg would have no mercy for the human just yet. His pride demanded satisfaction and he would stop at nothing to receive it. The orc held his human foe steady, rocking his body slightly to get him into position. Suddenly, Gorg jumped high into the air and raised his beefy thighs, trapping Lortho's head between them. The human cried out in fright as the two of them ascended and his body was rocked in a man-busting piledriver!
"Gruhh!!" Gorg grunted dominantly, holding the human tightly as his muscular ass hit the ground, sending tremors throughout Lortho's body. The human moaned continuously as he was dropped to the grass by the triumphant orc. Gorg struck a series of bodybuilder poses over the downed man's prone form, grunting between each perfect pose.
"Gruh... Orcs rule this world!" the titanic stud grunted with pleasure, lowering his meager barbell to the ground again. The sweat-soaked orc wasted little time in claiming his victory prize, turning Lortho onto his back and straddling his belly. The human looked up at his arrogant, grinning master and accepted his fate.
"Worship me, slave," Gorg demanded, raising his arms in a double bicep pose.
Lortho's hands shot up to the orc's incredible physique and began rubbing and groping the sweaty muscle. "You're... incredible, Master..." the man grunted truthfully, feeling a strange arousal for this powerful creature. "I've never seen anything so amazing," he continued his praise as his fingers ran across every perfectly-sculpted muscle he could touch.
For nearly a half hour, the orc received tribute through muscle worship from his new human slave. He also demanded that Lortho kiss his balls and repent for the cheap shot during their fight. Gorg's ego was finally satisfied. The orc lifted and held his conquest in his powerful arms as he prepared the human for penetration. The orc's tusked mouth ran across Lortho's sweaty trap muscle, taking small, gentle bites here and there.
"Are you worthy to take all of me, slave?" the orc grumbled lowly, arrogantly as he stared into the human's smoky, pale eyes.
"N-No, Master... Thank you, Master..."
"That's right, boy. No human is worthy to take the cock of Gorg. But I'll make an exception for you... this time..." he rumbled, pleased by the answer. Perhaps these beasts of burden known as humans weren't so dumb after all. He slid his leaking cock into the softskin's hot, tight hole.
The orc's sap of arousal began to take an almost immediate effect over the human. Within seconds of it entering his system, Lortho relaxed fully against the orc's powerful chest, his arms wrapped around the titan's green upper body. Gorg grumbled in pleasure at the man's reaction. He'd heard of man's weakness to orc, but seeing it for himself was an entirely different matter. The orc held the helpless human and his throbbing manhood close to his big, rumbling chest as he began to fuck.
Orc bred man for well over two hours that day. Gorg made sure that Lortho knew and understood the power of the orcs as he fucked the human's pummeled backside. Lortho had never felt so utterly conquered by another in his life — and he enjoyed every moment of it. The heat, scent, and aura of this incredible creature thoroughly overwhelmed his senses. What Lortho never realized was that his feelings for the orc were heightened exponentially by the natural fluids constantly pumping from the brute's balls.
And then Gorg came. Bombarded by the stimulative effects of orc cum, Lortho climaxed with his master. Both man and orc roared as they spurt their seed together: orc into man, man upon the ground. Exhausted and aching with a gut full of orc semen, the smaller stud collapsed and passed out cold.
"My Overlord," one of the Grohmah guards grunted, pounding his left pec twice as he stood before Bra'thor Krag in the boss orc's throne room. "Our scouts confirm that the unit dispatched to Hurkshelm has completed its mission successfully," the guard reported in a deep voice, his wide grin the only thing visible under his helmet. "The humans have been taken to the slave pens for holding, their metals gathered for scrap, and their livestock, food, and jewels ready for your honorable discretion. The land surrounding Hurkshelm has been secured and is now ours, Overlord."
The titanic greenskin licked his teeth and tusks as he thought about how King Ranzen must be stricken with fright by now. He imagined the leader of the humans squirming, desperate to stop the orcish incursion into the kingdom of man.
"It's only a matter of time now, Ranzen," Krag promised under his breath, his big, green fist clenched tightly. "You and your kingdom will be mine."
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