For the Whored?
...this is what happens when Warcraft-buddies make gay "whored" jokes to me.
Stupid, smelly tauren, thought Janus.He'd never been fond of the Barrens to begin with, and having to cross them in a tauren's body just made it worse, especially considering his newfound, constant desire to scratch his ass--the one thing that he found most repulsive about the tauren and ogres of Azeroth.
And stupid, sweaty orcs, though Janus, because his tauren nose, though not as strong as his worgen one, told him that he was not alone in the barrens. Of course, he would have been stupid to assume he was, but now his assumption was that there was another within a mile of him.
It was half a minute before he saw the orc, angling towards him from his right. He was narrow-faced, lightly-bearded, and clad in clunky mail, looking middle-aged by human standards. His face was somber, and in a few minutes, he fell into step beside tauren-Janus, the longsword on his back shifting with each step. The tauren's instinct was to head off in another direction, but that would set him off course, and he really didn't want to be trekking the barrens any longer than he had to.
So it was that he walked beside the orc, waiting for some kind of conversation that he knew was inevitable to come. Janus felt he would give himself aware if he spoke first, but it was a while before the orc said, "Greetings," without turning, as if he was talking to himself.
"Hail." The orcish still felt strange on his tongue, though his magic made speaking it easy enough. "What finds you here?"
"To Orgrimmar," the orc said. "And you?"
"The same," he said, though he knew his purpose was much different from the orc's, whatever it was. He felt like the more he spoke, the more obvious it would be for the orc to see through the tonic--because he still felt human, despite the alchemist's transmogrifying potion. But he decided that silence would be most suspicious, and added, "Been on the road since sunrise."
Now he looked at Janus, who couldn't help feeling that the orc's eyes were roaming him, sizing him up. When the orc saw the staff on his back, he said, "Are you a magician?"
He shook his head. "Priest."
"Warrior, myself."
Janus could tell, if his arms were any indicator. They looked to pack more muscle than any human's he'd ever seen, though the muscle didn't look out of place like that of some of the stronger human warriors; it looked perfectly natural on the orc, like anything less would look wrong.
They walked in silence for a while. Janus had lost his sense of direction during their talk, and though he could relocate it with a spell, he felt that it would be a dead giveaway that he didn't know the way. He decided to trust the orc's guidance, walking beside the other for many long miles.
But when the wind began picking up, he needed neither spell nor guidance to sense the coming of the sandstorm, and neither did his companion. The groan Janus let out came partly from the storm itself--though he wasn't too surprised about it--and mostly from the prospect of being stuck with the orc throughout the thing, because he knew that the orc would look over at him and say, "We should find shelter."
And he did. Janus nodded, fighting the panic, because he knew the chances of his guise being broken had just skyrocketed. He told himself to take in stride, and take advantage of the other's help; at any rate, running off into the storm when offered help would certainly be suspicious.
"Nightfall approaches." The orc's eyes scanned the horizon. "There's a village to the north, Korgrim's Halt."
"You want to wait out the storm?"
"I'll stay for the night. I would suggest you do the same, even if the storm ends. I can tell you're new here, and you probably don't know the dangers that come out at night."
Janus had to restrain a wince. The orc had figured it out that quickly? Not the guise, yet, but close to it at this point--and he'd be damned if he spent the night with the orc. But still, the orcs words and cool, admirable confidence made it difficult for the tauren to say, "I can handle myself."
"If the storm passes, it will be after nightfall. I won't stop you," he said, "but I don't see any point in you going off tonight." A beefy green hand settled on his shoulder, squeezing once, and Janus found the gesture a bit comforting. "Come on. I'll buy you a drink."
Janus blinked. He checked to see if he'd sprouted boobs when he wasn't looking, but the weight between his legs, heavier than when he was in human or even worgen form, told him that he was as male as ever, and there was nothing lewd or flirty about the orc's request, even the hand on his shoulder. He figured that the Horde must just have different concepts of friendship than the Alliance.
"Alright," he said. The tonic should last a day or two, and when he felt its effects weakening, he had extras he could take.
"Got money?"
He nodded. "Enough to stay."
The sandstorm began in earnest only a few minutes later, whipping dust across the plains. The two of them ran as best they could, shielding their eyes from the barrage. Janus estimated that they spent a good four minutes running through the storm.
The orc didn't stop until they were in the inn. Janus hadn't had much chance to see the rest of the village, but from what he'd seen, well, there wasn't really too much to see. As far as he saw, the inn was one of the only six buildings in the village, and maybe that was why it wasn't on any of the maps Janus had ever seen.
The interior looked not too much different than he'd expected. A few round, wooden tables, surrounded by stools; a bar; a few hammocks strung against the walls; and a few pads on the floor in one of the corners. A few others were inside already, the innkeeper standing in the center of the opposite wall. All of them were orcs, and all of them male, the majority shirtless, smelling of sweat and orc.
As soon as they were in, his companion was removing his armor. All Janus wore was a robe over his clothes, so he discarded it in the same corner where his companion laid his armor. But he wasn't expecting the orc to discard his shirt, too, exposing his green, sweat-shiny skin, and when the orc turned back around, Janus couldn't resist looking.
The first thing he saw was the orc's nipples, nearly black, and a bit larger than he was expecting. They were set into defined pectoral muscles that gave way to a slight gut in his abdomen. Black hair dusted his chest, creating a line between his navel and his hidden groin.
Gods, no. This was making Janus hard.
The warrior laughed at him. "You're in good company, friend. There's no shame in being comfortable."
It took him a moment to realize the orc was encouraging him to remove his shirt. He hesitated only a moment before slipping it off. As it came off and he threw it into the pile, he couldn't help thinking that he saw the orc's eyes similarly sizing him up, and the tauren hoped the orc couldn't see any bulge. He got the lewd idea to see if the orc's pants had gotten any tighter, but by then the orc had already turned and headed to the corner of the inn with all the sleeping mats, sitting on one of them.
Janus joined his companion, and it wasn't too long after that when the innkeeper, a little younger-looking than the warrior, came over to them and asked them if they would like drinks. The warrior asked it they could stay the night, and ordered two of something unfamiliar, paying for the drinks and his own bed. When the innkeeper returned, he came back with three drinks and seated himself so that they sat in a rough triangle.
Janus noticed more orcs coming in, and in half an hour, there were four or so more orcs with them, outside the triangle, all shirtless males. With all the noise in the room, uttering a few words to divine each of them was simple: there was a mage, a warlock, a shaman, and a rogue. The smell of musk, and the wholesome stench of maleness his kind usually attributed to sweaty balls, filled the inn, and oddly enough, he found it distracting but not objectionable. Stupid tauren nose.
"Some storm, huh?" the innkeeper said.
The warrior nodded. "Unfortunate."
"They always come at the worst time." The innkeeper scooted closer to the warrior, and Janus couldn't help noticing that he looked a little too close for comfort. And since they were so close together, both of their chests lay right in the center of the tauren's field of view. He felt his shaft expanding, and it took some effort to look away and distract himself, and by that time he thought he saw the warrior looking at him, as if he'd caught him.
After that, the tauren sipped on his drink--a little stronger than he was accustomed to--and tried his best to ignore them, and for a while, it was easy, because the warrior and the innkeeper talked amongst themselves and didn't pay him too much attention, other than the occasional glance. But as time went on, ignoring them became more and more difficult.
Janus thought he was hallucinating at first, but the more he looked, the more he could be sure that the innkeeper was in fact rubbing the warrior's bare chest. The warrior's face was still grim, and he was saying, "...but the metal gets stiffer that way, and--"
"I think it's too late to talk smithing tonight," the innkeeper said. "Don't you?"
The warrior grunted. "Perhaps so."
Janus felt his fur standing up, and he did his best to tame it. The last thing he wanted to do was attract attention now. He told himself that his body was responding to to all this in the way that he guessed most taurens' would--and, he guessed, the way most orcs' bodies would, too.
Something else caught Janus's eye, and he went through another minute of doubt before he could say with confidence that the rogue was nude, his ass-crack visible near the floor, a few feet off from their triangle. When he looked back, the innkeeper had slipped an arm around the warrior, and Janus watched as one of his fingers circled a nipple, teasing it. If anything, the warrior looked annoyed but not offended at having the innkeeper clinging to him.
Janus shifted his weight to remove some of the pressure in his groin, but it helped little. He wasn't used to a tauren's size; he felt like he had a tower in his pants, and he couldn't resist slipping down a paw to adjust himself. From the corner of his eye, he saw the warrior watching him, and his ears stung in shame at being caught, but the orc only looked amused; Janus thought he could see the beginnings of a smile.
When the innkeeper began licking the still-shiny skin of the warrior, the warrior slid his rump on the ground a bit, towards Janus, and looked over as if he wanted something. But the warrior's face was as blank as ever, so he couldn't be sure what that was.
Now the shaman and the rogue were lying parallel to each other, and it wasn't hard to miss that they were both nude, and that they were both erect. Their shafts were pressed together, as if they were comparing lengths, and Janus gaped because the shaman's monstrous erection towered over the rogues, both in girth and length, and he was laughing... but the sound of the laughter was soon lost, because the warlock, after talking to the mage about some kind of deal, summoned a succubus, and her cackles filled the room for an instant, drowning out all else.
Disbelief warred with fascination that spurred arousal. Disgust struck him for being aroused by the enemy, by the males he was supposed to be fighting, but some small part of him knew he couldn't help it. His eyes kept gravitating to the shaman's mammoth shaft, or to the warrior's chest, and every time he looked at either, he got that much harder, and now he could feel dampness in his pants. He was sure that by now his trousers were announcing his arousal very loudly. His knot in worgen form was probably only a centimeter thicker than his whole shaft was now, and his tauren shaft was at least as long, if not longer than his worgen one. Anyone who looked at his groin would see just how hard this was getting him.
A slender hand darted between the warrior's legs, groping the considerable bulge. "Oooh," the inkeeper cooed. His head was now on the warrior's shoulder, and he made no attempt to hide the bulge in his own pants. "Thick."
The warrior shrugged. He looked over at the tauren's groin, and when he realized that Janus had seen him do it, he looked away quickly. Janus couldn't help wondering how much of the warrior's erection came from the tauren. He knew he should be focusing on being inconspicuous, and that he definitely shouldn't be so turned on, but his cock screamed at him for gratification, and his willpower wilted.
In that instant, the warrior ceased being the warrior and started being his warrior. He scooted closer, and he saw his warrior relax immediately, leaning a bit towards him. The innkeeper didn't seem to notice, as he continued massaging the warrior's groin, his hand outlining the orc's shaft, straining against his pants.
Janus wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Tentatively, he reached out with a paw and massaged the orc's head, and that drew out a low, almost inaudible groan. With a bit more confidence, he lay his head on his warrior's shoulder, and he was countered by the warrior's own head tilting over towards it. He began gently massaging the orc's chest, just as the innkeeper had done. He could smell sweat, arousal, and a scent that he could only describe as orcish.
High-pitched, female moans filled the room. From the corner of his eye, he could see the mage thrusting into the succubus, fingering her clitoris with a free hand. The warlock watched from a few feet away, caressing himself with one hand and masturbating with the other. When the warlock caught his eye, the orc just continued stroking himself, as if he were showing off for Janus--and it was certainly working, because his cock was big (by human standards) and dripping, and it made the tauren's mouth water. In the breaks of the succubus's yowling, Janus heard the gentle fapping that could be coming from any of four orcs, in addition to the sounds of the mage coupling with the succubus. There was a greedy slurping, too, and when he turned towards it, he saw the rogue grinding his ass into the shaman's face, the shaman's head darting madly about as he tried to lick every inch of it. At the same time that it was all so wrong, it made Janus grit his teeth in arousal. If someone didn't stroke him off soon, he would have to do it himself, or he would go insane.
By then, the innkeeper had gotten the idea that the warrior didn't want the innkeeper hanging onto him. He'd shedded his pants, and now he sat parallel to the the warrior and the priest, shamelessly fapping as Janus's paws explored his warrior's body. He rubbed the still-sweaty skin, licked his warrior's shoulder, rubbed at his nipples... and found that everything he did earned him a grunt of acknowledgment, a gentle pat, a sensual, throaty growl. Soon Janus's warrior had an arm around him, and he wasn't surprised or nervous when he felt a hand approach his groin.
Janus's hand went to his warrior's pants, undoing the buttons of its own accord, bringing his fleshy rod into view. And it was indeed thick, either by luck or by orcish nature, though Janus had no problem wrapping his paws around it and stroking it, feeling the foreskin slide up its length. At first, it wasn't sexual, just a slow, gentle massage of his member, exploring the shape and texture. His warrior's strong hands gave him the same treatment, and when he looked up, his warrior had all his attention focused on Janus's groin. But the orc noticed the tauren watching him watch him, and grinned--it was the first time Janus had seen him grin.
By now, the mage had quit fingering the succubus, mainly because of the hard shaft of the warlock plowing into his rear, making him cry out. The rogue, prone, was now half-sucking, half-stroking the tremendous shaft of the sitting shaman, and the shaman was stroking the rogue's own shaft in return. From where he was sitting, Janus could see the big dark pucker of the shaman's rear entrance, and the rogue kept a hand there, exploring it with his fingers. Five or six other males sat nearby, watching the hugeness disappear into the rogue's maw, stroking themselves and each other, all waiting for their turn to hold the shaman's tool. And now the mage and warlock were penetrating the succubus from each end, but Janus could tell they were more interseted in each other, their hands roaming each other's bodies, the warlock suckling on the mage's ear.
As he watched, still more came over to watch the shaman. Each of the orcs had his shaft in someone's hand, and a shaft in at least one of his hands, smiling, laughing, panting, comparing lengths... The rogue had quit with his mouth, and now there were three hands on the shaman's pole alone, and another on his orbs. The shaman himself looked smug, grinning, stroking the rogue with his right hand and fingering another orc's ass with his left.
There were other groups inside, too, he saw. He realized that this was about neither lust nor love. Though, he thought, thinking about his warrior, maybe it could be about something more.
Janus's own shaft was still in the skilled hands of the orc, and vice-versa, the innkeeper beating himself off madly as he watched them stroke each other, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. The warrior released the tauren's shaft and gestured towards it, and in a few seconds, the innkeeper was at Janus's groin, stroking the tauren's shaft with one hand and licking up its length--and there was certainly plenty of it to lick. Then the innkeeper looked up at the tauren as he stuffed the head of Janus's cock into his mouth, the rest of the shaft throbbing in anticipation, the orc's fingers massaging the tauren's furry orbs.
Janus watched as the younger orc bobbed up and down his shaft. He was so hard it looked like the orc was trying to gulp a rod of steel, and the orc had to use his hands in addition to his mouth to cover the whole length at one time. Once, he struggled to fit the whole thing in his mouth, but he only got it three-quarters in before he was choking and spitting and backing off, panting and laughing.
Three orcs had come to watch, panting as they jacked each other off. Janus heard one of them talk about how he wished he'd been a tauren, how he loved the curves of the tauren's rear and the thickness of his shaft, and that just made the tauren laugh and thrust his shaft into the orc's mouth, once making him gag again. When he felt a hand massaging his ass cheeks, he figured it was one of the three, but when he looked, he saw that it was his warrior, half-grinning as he kneaded his friend's ass. He gave it a final pat before walking around behind the innkeeper, and Janus watched as the older orc spread apart the innkeeper's cheeks and planted his maw between them.
The innkeeper let out an, "Ooh," and the suction on Janus's shaft vanished. The warrior motioned for Janus to come join him, so the tauren stood, his hard shaft bobbing with the motion. At least five orcs were now watching him, stroking themselves.
The innkeeper turned so that they met in the middle. The warrior spread the younger orc's cheeks. Dark hair tinged his cheeks and the crevice between them, where his pucker was a spot of blackish-pink, glistening with spit. Janus felt the orc's hand close around his shaft again when the warrior's head darted between the younger orc's cheeks.
The innkeeper moaned, continuing to stroke himself, and the tauren watched the warrior in shock and fascination, unable to believe how hot the scene looked. When the warrior finished, caught Janus's eye and gestured towards the innkeeper's rump. Desire quenched revolt. The warrior spread the cheeks wide, and the tauren, only slightly tentative, buried his maw between them.
The taste was sweat and musk, and Janus found himself liking it, licking harder and deeper to get more, and with a tauren's tongue, his digging was no joke. He heard his warrior panting behind him, and the stroking on his shaft quickened. If that and the innkeeper's groans were any sign, he was doing it well, satisfying the innkeeper and putting on a show for his warrior. And when the warrior started licking the innkeeper's orbs, he stroked the warrior's thickness harder, too.
They took turns eating out the innkeeper, slurping at his entrance like it was a desert oasis, the orcs around them cheering them on. When it was the warrior's turn, Janus's free paw massaged the warrior's back, and his tongue swathed at the other's neck. He watched the warrior's tongue assault the innkeeper's pucker, an action he knew was at least partially for his benefit.
The tauren and his warrior competed to see who could lick the deepest, who could make the innkeeper moan the most, all the while still stroking each other, trying to suppress orgasm. As each became more eager to impress the other and to taste more of the innkeeper's ass, their turns became shorter and more frequent; the tauren was barely done before the orc's maw was there a half-second later, and vice-versa. Once, Janus heard a gasp and a spurt, and knew one of their observers had come.
The tauren still had his tongue an inch in when the orc came in for his turn, and he wasn't expecting the warrior's tongue to join his on the innkeeper's pucker, but it did, and now Janus was moaning, too, as he felt the warrior's tongue caress his. Their tongues danced on the innkeeper's rim, and they slurped his entrance in unison, each pinning back one of the orc's cheeks to give them space. They locked eyes, and he found himself making out with his warrior over the innkeeper's hole, kissing both the younger orc's bud and the warrior's mouth. Janus had lost track of how many orcs were around them. By now the whole inn stank of sweat and musk, and he found that it was a stench that he found quite enjoyable.
It was then that they switched: the innkeeper flipped himself over, laying with his back on the ground. Janus found himself uninhibited with slipping the orc's throbbing erection into his mouth, sucking on it greedily, while the warrior kept his position at the innkeeper's rear. When Janus looked up at the innkeeper's face, he was instead met with the sight of another orc's ass, whose owner was in the process of stuffing the innkeeper's mouth. The tauren kneaded the orc's cheeks with one paw as he rubbed the innkeeper's orbs with the other, sliding his mouth and tongue around the young orc's shaft.
The tauren felt someone lifting his tail, and he raised his rear high, showing off his cheeks and their centerpiece to all his watchers. He felt rough paws spread him further, and he figured their owner must have liked what he saw, because he felt the orc's rough, slimy tongue lapping under his tail. And its owner must have liked what it tasted, because soon an orcish face was pressed hard into his backside, tongue ravaging the tauren's pucker. Janus moaned around the innkeeper's shaft, turning his head back to see who it was.
The orc saw him looking and leaned up, smacking his lips, so that Janus could see his face. The orc gave him a thumbs-up and had his head at the tauren's rear again before Janus realized: the orc eating his ass was a death knight, one that he'd lost a fight to just last week. The tauren bent his shaft back so the death knight could see it, and almost immediately, the death knight was under him, sucking him off, pumping a finger into his rear, until he felt another, different head between his cheeks. His warrior was still continuing his oral assault of the innkeeper's rear, his shaft buried in the maw of another.
An orc pulled him off the innkeeper's shaft, and Janus found himself in a heated make-out session with someone he didn't know, but who was nonetheless very skilled with his tongue. When he briefly pulled away, the tauren saw that it was the death knight, but only had a second to take it in before they were locked in another passionate tangle. There was still someone at both the tauren's shaft and rear, so he figured they must be different orcs. The death knight pulled away, panting, his skin glistening with sweat; he grabbed Janus's paw and placed it on his shaft. The tauren stroked it eagerly, watching the mighty death knight's twitching face, savoring his moans and gasps as the tauren stroked him.
They shifted so that they both lay on their backs, staring up at the ceiling. Janus put his legs high into the air to give the two orcs floundering at his groin and backside plenty of access. His tailhole gaping and his shaft tingling with pleasure at his servants' skillful ministrations; the one at his shaft was cramming nearly all of it in each time he bobbed, his tongue working frantically around the hardness.
The death knight was biting his lip, shuddering under Janus's touch. The knight's hands wandered Janus's chest, feeling the muscles underneath the fur, rubbing at his nipples. When the tauren turned his head, he saw that the innkeeper was gone, and that his warrior was standing right above him, grinning, mastubating. At Janus's look, he approached the tauren and sat down on his chest. Janus quickly wrapped his muzzle around the orc's shaft, bobbing across its length, only stopping to rub his muzzle into the orc's groin and inhale his deep, musky scent. He kept one paw stroking the death knight, and with his other, groped the warrior's rear, finding it to be the perfect shape for groping: large, round, and tight.
With a paw on the knight's hard shaft, the warrior's shaft in his muzzle and ass in his paw, the knight groping his chest, and two eager orcs slurping at his groin and ass, he knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer. It was the death knight who came first, tensing and then coating Janus's paw with sticky warmth. That paw joined the other on the warrior's rear, taking a cheek in each paw and pushing, driving the warrior's shaft farther into the tauren's mouth. He bobbed harder on the warrior''s shaft in response to the building pleasure in his loins, fighting hard to resist thrusting into the orc's mouth. Soon it became too much to bear, and he let out a tremendous bellow as he came, his servant swallowing burst after burst of his seed, grinding his knuckles into the tauren's perineum. Janus was so lost in pleasure, he barely noticed when his warrior pulled out and stroked himself as he shot his seed onto Janus's chest.
The stench of semen filled the air. Orcish cries joined it, as the orcs watching them or servicing them came to climax, one by one, and the six or so orcs with the shaman came to climax. The shaman was last, and by that time he had an orc's finger in his mouth, the innkeeper bobbing on his tremendous shaft, and at least eight hands on his body, roaming him, stroking him, fingering him, massaging him, all working to bring him to a mighty climax. The mage and the warlock were stroking each other, watching as the succubus masturbated; similar cries ensued from them and the other groups scattered across the inn.
The warrior surprised Janus by laying down beside him and pulling him close so that they lay on the same mat, gently rubbing his seed into the tauren's fur. The warrior's semi-hard shaft, wet with his juices, pressed into the tauren's own, and Janus felt his sticky fur brush against the orc's chest. The orc put an arm around him, wandering his back before settling over his ass, giving it a light squeeze. The tauren's shoulder lightly stung, and he realized that the orc had nipped him. Janus could faintly smell the alcohol on his breath when he said, "You're mine, tonight."
Clutching the muscle and warmth of his warrior, Janus didn't find it hard at all to drift asleep, even amidst the pants of those who returned for a second round. He would still carry out his mission, of course; this was but a distraction... or so he told himself.