Minor Disagreements
Disclaimer: This story contains subjects of an explicit and implied nature. Please read the tags carefully before reading. I am not responsible for you reading this, especially if you happen to be underaged. All character(s) belong to their respective creator(s) as indicated by the copyright information following this disclaimer. This story is a commission, as such please do not repost or copy without my permission, or the permission of any other individuals whose characters have been mentioned within the story. Thank you.
Gurz and Azhog belong to their player.
All other characters belong to me.
Minor Disagreements
by Segremores Moon, a commission for (anonymous)
2 A.M. The wee hours of the morning were normally Gurz's shift change. Club activity would die down to a low rumble from the screaming howl that it was hours ago, so the same sort of muscle wasn't required of a bouncer. Looking in on the club, the huge orc/bear, searched for the manager, seeing if it was alright for him to get home on time that night. On his way, many drunken patrons threatened to come near and touch his mostly-bare body. Who could blame them for wanting to touch? Gurz was a very built specimen of masculinity, his big green body accentuated by rippling muscles, bushy brown fur in all the right manly places. The issue was agitated by his work attire, which consisted mostly of a simple red loincloth that hid his unmentionables, a pair of heavy boots good for standing long hours in front of the club and ass-kicking, and a simple white collar with black bow tie around his neck.
His big green hands often slapped away the grabby paws, claws, and fingers of the patrons on his way to the back office.
"Gurz, over here!" called the familiar, gruff voice of his manager, a burly black half-dragon. He was doing some bartender work at the moment, cleaning off the countertop. He nodded over to the big orc as Gurz approached. "Yeah, get out of here, I don't think anyone's going to start any trouble tonight," his manager continued, almost as if they were having a conversation that Gurz wasn't even a part of. It saved him the trouble of saying anything though, and he nodded in reply.
"See you tomorrow night, Aleron," he replied in an equally deep bass which resonated in the glass that the half-dragon named Aleron was washing. With that, and a quick session of patron-dodging to avoid being groped on his way out the door, Gurz stepped out into the night air on his three-block trek back to his small home.
The road was particularly dark that night, particularly noiseless, save for the sounds of drunken fools singing some tuneless song at the top of their lungs. On his walk home, this sort of thing was the only comfort that Gurz could seek after a long night at work, his big legs weary from standing so long, his voice rasped from the occasional shouting match with drunken or rowdy patrons of the club he worked for. A good long sleep during the day was what he needed, especially if he were going to be doing an encore the very next night.
The big orc's thoughts were interrupted suddenly as he noticed something big moving very quickly out of a dark alley he happened to be passing, which made him jump a little and let out a shout of surprise. It was too little too late though, and even though he could see the enormous piece of concrete the big thing was holding before it connected with the side of his head, he could do less than nothing to get out of its way. An abrupt darkness claimed his senses and his mind.
*****
Stars started to shine brightly behind Gurz's eyelids. "Oh boy, where were you when I was struck?" he thought to himself as they grew painfully brighter. His other senses started to sluggishly restart as well, his sense of smell returning, olfactory filling with the smells of something well-oiled, probably heavy machinery of some kind. His hearing was there then, voices coming out of the background until they were almost literally right next to him.
"I think he's waking up, sir," said an unfamiliar deep voice to his right. Gurz tried to open his eyes to see, but all that came in was light and vague, gray shapes. He tried to move, his limbs wouldn't respond much though. A cold sensation on the right side of his head told him that whomever had committed the atrocity of giving his skull a whack with that big rock had also had the compassion to ice it afterward.
"Good afternoon, good sir, I trust you slept well?" came the question from another voice, this one more familiar, something about the nasal tone bringing a slow memory forming in his head. Had he met this person at some point on his shift?
"Afternoon?" Gurz's lips finally synched with his vocal chords to form the gurgled, vague word. His vision was clearing a little better now, vague grays becoming darkened colors, the light becoming far less blinding, turning into bright torchlight instead.
"Ah yes, you slept all morning and part-way through the day, such a naughty little boy you are," came the voice again, from somewhere to his right, though at a distance. At his level of awareness, he could sense the first person to his left still, a huge form of some kind. He squinted, making out a pair of large, curved horns sprouting from its head, eyes coming into focus. Oh, a minotaur.
As soon as his vision came back all the way, so did the throbbing reminder of the altercation his head had with that big rock, and a throbbing headache started to sprout behind his right eye, making him wince. The minotaur was holding the ice pack against his head, shifting it a little. Surprisingly, this simple movement beat back the headache into a low throb, preventing it from becoming a full-blown migraine.
"We'll give you a few more minutes to recover from your unfortunate head injury before we start you on your way, wouldn't want to be shipping my clients damaged goods, now would we?" the second voice continued, the minotaur giving a low chuckle at this. Gurz finally remembered where that voice had come from, looking up as much as his bound form would allow to see that pompous, creepy lizardman tweaking with something in the corner, his shoulders hunched over his work.
Realizing that he was bound, Gurz also looked over his form, pulling at tightly-sealed steel restraints that had him solidly attached to some kind of strange table... a table the foot of which was directed toward the opening in some immense, indescribable machine. To say that his situation appeared daunting would be an understatement.
"Er, what's going on here?" he asked, his voice finally gaining a little more control and some of its former strength. The minotaur repositioned the ice pack, and the headache receded even more, his head no longer feeling like someone was jackhammering away at it.
"You're going through the baby-machine!" he chuckled, almost gleefully, making Gurz wince a little, both at the name of the horrifying machine at his feet and at the joy of which the big creature next to him seemed to speak of the machine.
"That's right, Lloyed, our friend here is going through that machine, is he ready?" the lizard man, Azhog was his name, padded over, his tail dragging on the ground as he moved. Gurz winced again when he came too close, trying to avoid his glaring stare. "Yes, yes, I think he's ready, let's get started!" he cackled, moving to the machine and pressing a few buttons on it, the thing starting to whirr to life right in front of Gurz.
Lloyed removed the ice-pack from the orc's head, stepping back. To Gurz's surprise, his head felt fine. There must have been some sort of medicine or light magick in that pack, for he felt fine now, and well-rested. He counted this blessing as the table started to move under him, taking him with it, his huge green form... naked from head to toe now... slide toward the machine's opening.
"Enjoy, good sir, see you on the other side," Azhog chuckled gleefully, gesturing for Lloyed to come with, both of them leaving the room and closing it behind them just as Gurz's form completely slid into the machine.
It was loud first, the sound of whirring and metal scraping against itself filling Gurz's ears. Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted, as if his wrists, waist, neck, and ankles were attached to marionette strings and he was along for the ride. Though it was dark, his sense of direction had not been affected, and he could feel himself being turned over, his arms and legs held spread apart, exposing himself even further than he had before, his thick green cock and balls swaying beneath him.
Another whirring sound, and suddenly he felt something at his ass, two things, resting against the perfectly-sculpted cheeks, pressing in a little until they made dimpled indentations, then suddenly spreading him apart, his cheeks held apart and exposing his dark hole as he grunted in surprise.
"What the fuck is going on here!?" he demanded in a growling voice, struggling against his bonds frantically now, desiring nothing more than to get away from this rapist machine, knowing what might be coming next.
Sure enough, something smooth and wet suddenly touched right against his asshole, a thick liquid spurt of something hot gushed against it, and then the cylindrical object thrust right in. The pain was horrible at first, his hole forced to stretch around something that had not been properly lubricated at all. That sorry excuse for lubricant, the hot oil the dildo had spurted against his hole before driving inside, was all he got, and it wasn't enough.
The machine wasted no time, pistoning the dildo steadily in and out of his suddenly-spread hole, making it burn steadily and making him cry out and groan in agony all the while. More horrifying yet, it started to feel pleasant, especially when the oil finally started to do its job, and when the tip of that big metallic object poked against his fat prostate just beyond his stretched ring.
"Oh gods, save me from this horror!" he demanded, praying in sobs, his cheeks bright with tears that flowed even more as he felt his member starting to swell with arousal, his loins demanding that whatever was raping him should also help him release as well. He gasped loudly when he felt another part of the machine, what had to be a warm, rubbery masturbation sleeve, suddenly slipped around his thick orc cock, pumping along its length as steadily and with the same rhythm that the metal dildo was drilling into his big green ass.
"Having trouble resisting the pleasure aren't you, little baby?" came a voice over some strange speaker system, it was Azhog. The voice made Gurz growl through his tears, and renewed his struggle with the machine's bindings, trying to pull it apart with his strength. It didn't matter, his huge muscles bulged uselessly against what must have been adamantium or some similarly strong metal. "Yeah, struggle some more, it makes it feel worse, doesn't it?" the voice asked tauntingly.
Gurz's erection spurted precum into the rubber sleeve, that metal dildo driving a little harder, really grinding itself against his internals, causing a mixture of deep pain and incredible pleasure that was hard to resist and even harder to deny. The poor orc felt so used, wondering why he had deserved this all for turning away the creepy lizard man from the club in the first place.
He felt his orgasm building, his muscles tightening all over as he felt himself coming to the peak. The dildo in his rump was suddenly gone, slurping out of his hole, which made the orc roar out in agonizing disappointment, feeling his peak die off to neutral, leaving his dick throbbing in the unmoving sleeve. "Oh, come on!" He roared out loudly, trying to move to get himself off.
The machine waited patiently, until his erection started to soften very slightly. A new dildo pressed into his anus suddenly then, this one almost fifty percent bigger than the other one, forcing its way deep into the unfortunate orc, making him scream out again, but also making his erection surge in renewed vitality.
"Just imagine, my client is even bigger than that!" Azhog taunted over the loudspeaker, cackling a little as, once again, the orc was mechanically raped.
Gurz growled, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as his ass was so used, the dull ache of pain replaced by a new wave of pleasure. This time, the sleeve pumped faster, rolling over his straining erection, which throbbed angrily, ready to release. His balls pulled up against his body, his back arching as best it could in his bound state as his peak finally came, and the machine let him cum.
Oh it was so good, his big green cock finally flexing powerfully, pouring his thick cum into the sleeve to be put wherever the sleeve led to, his hole flexing firmly around that huge metal intrusion, almost milking it. His body shuddered several times, his musculature bulging and relaxing in turn, until finally relaxing fully, the orc drained, only giving a low whimper as the dildo was removed from his gaping asshole, a little of the oil drooling from it.
The machine started to move him again, and his surroundings changed a bit. There was light here, he could see himself, sweat glistening off of his form from the rough play he had just been subject to in the previous portion of the machine. A tub of hot water appeared in front of him, soap bubbles glistening on its surface, steam billowing from it. His form was carefully lowered into it, almost cradling him while he was dipped into the piping-hot liquid, causing him to gasp for a moment before his form relaxed. Metallic arms and tentacles came out of the walls, sponges or rags at their ends, dipping into the water, then gently washing over his body.
The machine worked his form, scrubbing gently here, cleaning there. It took special care of all the worst-cleaned places. His asshole was even gently cleansed of its previous shame, though it was no less loosened.
When he was thoroughly cleaned, smelling of fresh lilac, big, soft towels and hot, rushing air moved over his form, drying him off just as gently. Gurz was torn. This was certainly an improvement over what just happened to him in the other part of the machine, but it was still just as humiliating.
"What the fuck is going on here?" He cried out again, his question nearly cut off as he suddenly heard the sound of electric buzzing, and a lot of it. Razors suddenly came at him, making him bellow in denial. They quickly started to work on his form, steadily shaving off every part of his carefully-groomed pelt, his green skin shaved smooth, not a single brown hair remaining on his muscular body, almost causing it to gleam in the light. His head was next, the razors shaving over it until only a small tuft was left on the very top of his head. He groaned, looking down at himself. Even his pubic hair was gone, his groin completely smooth, balls swaying in the cool air.
The arms receded save for one, this one bearing a bright pink bow, moving straight for his head. He struggled even more. "Oh hell no! Get that thing away from me!" he growled out, struggling in his bonds even harder than he had before, but to the same effect.
"Come come now, is that any way for a baby to behave? This machine is capable of spanking you know, do you want that little baby orc?" the taunting voice of Azhog returned once again, making Gurz groan, then slump in submission. He certainly did not want to know what the spanking was like. Defeated, he allowed the arm to tie the bow carefully into the only remaining tuft of brown hair left on his entire body, at the top of his head.
The ridiculous-looking and thoroughly-beaten orc moved further through the machine, pulled upright slowly, then moved into a cradling position as a large bottle, looking very much like a baby bottle,was offered to his lips. He winced at first, trying to move his head away. The machine could sense his hesitance though, and it insisted, pushing the thick nipple into his maw suddenly, and squirting a thick, warm milk down his throat. He coughed, trying to spit it up, but the machine made it very clear that it'd feed him, even if it had to force every drop down his unwilling throat. He finally gave in, suckling on the proffered rubber nipple.
Even after his belly was full, the machine kept feeding him, making him drink more and more, until his stomach almost felt like it was sloshing with the gentle rocking motions that the ‘arms' holding him began to perform. When he felt like he would throw up from the sheer amount he was force-fed, the nipple finally came away, and he was turned over as a soft paddle began to pat his back to burp him.
He knew that this was all very silly, but it was also somewhat comforting in a way, lulling him into wanting to go along with it. Of course, Gurz also knew that there was no way to stop this. He couldn't break the metal bonds with the immense strength that had allowed him to throw out patrons two times his size. He couldn't reason with his tormentor, or his tormentor's machine, even if he used the deep, masculine, commanding element that he knew to be in his voice. He just couldn't, so he relaxed, let the machine do its thing.
The paddle eventually stopped when he mustered up a small gurgling belch and his form was moved further down the assembly line of babying. The orc was laid onto his back, his legs sticking up in the air. An implement that looked very much like a hose pointed at his backside, and he prepared for the worst when a sudden puff of white powder billowed from it onto his ass.
"Baby powder," he snorted, relieved, a huge diaper coming toward him, supported by three arms that carefully did the straps up around his legs, situating the cloth thing onto his bottom and over his groin so that it was tight-yet-comfortable. Gurz just sighed, then groaned a little louder when he saw what was coming next.
A big, powder-blue sleeper was heading toward him, the machine gently positioning him so that he'd be placed into it. The machine systematically released his limbs and body parts, slipped them into the sleeper, then held fast once again. The process was so quick, that Gurz didn't even have the presence of mind to try and fight with the machine whenever it released a part of him. Besides, at that point, there was little point. He was one big baby orc, he should just accept that.
A light to the outside shown at the end, and his form was gently rolled out to this part, a sudden prick at his neck startling him as he looked toward it.
"Just a little insurance that you'll be a good baby, not to worry," Azhog replied with a chuckle as the machine pulled away what looked like a syringe, now empty. Gurz wanted to complain, to growl, but his mind suddenly felt woozy, his thoughts incoherent and jumbled. A drugged smile slid across his big, green face, and he reached out to be held. The minotaur was there, chuckling as he picked him up. The big bull man was strong, strong enough to lift and carry him into the wagon outside, and that's all Gurz wanted, to be carried.
*****
Hours later, on the other side of the country, the same wagon clatters noisily up a cobblestone driveway, to a house set into the side of a mountain, almost like a large cave.
"Take baby Gurz up, Lloyed," Azhog chuckled, pushing on the big minotaur's shoulder to get him going, getting a light "yes sir" in response as the big guy clopped out onto the road, moving to the back. He reached in, grinning as he saw that Gurz was bundled up in soft-looking blankets and snoozing softly.
"That's downright adorable," he snickered, hefting the huge bundle into his arms, and clopping up the stone driveway to the front door before setting the bundle down on the stoop. He rapped on the door, a smile on his face...