OrcBound 1.2: Tavern

By: Ramshackled

It was Oscar’s voice that broke the silence. “Good men of Driftwood, how ‘bout a fresh, ready-to-use pig for ya’ll!”

An explosion of lecherous cheers and laughter echoed throughout the room.

The rough hand of his owner clapped against Halvard’s naked backside. Slowly, the two-hundred-sixty-pound man crawled forward towards the center of the tavern’s lounge. The chains binding his thick, hairy arms and legs rattled along the floor; a noise that filled the Blacksmith with equal parts terror and excitement. His muscles tensed, nearly frozen from the anxiety. It was only obedience, the hidden passion to do what his owner wished, that kept him shuffling forward.

I will do this one thing. It will be over, and my debts will be paid. Driftwood and I won’t go hungry this winter, so long as long as I do what my owner-“

Halvard caught himself mid-thought. That conniving Satyr, Oscar was not his owner- this was just a game and he was only playing it out to pay his way and save his town. And yet, the lustful heat that welled up inside him as his dominator tugged at the leash wrapped around his scrotum made Halvard question even that simple thought.

With another tug on his balls the two halted. The hooded blacksmith heard Oscar's hooved feet hop atop a wooden surface- a table or a stool. He presumed they were now in the center of Driftwood’s tavern.

Oscar bent down to the kneeling man. “Alright slutsmith, you’re clockin’ in now. Do good work, and you’ll get your escort- so start lookin’ good,” the Satyr told him.

Halvard wanted to obey, but wasn’t sure what to do, choosing instead to follow his instinct over conscious thought. The stocky blacksmith rose from his knees to a crouch. His large legs remained bent, keeping his head roughly at crotch level, allowing his two bound testicles to dangle just above the ground. He then brought up both of his hands and clasped them behind his head. In this submissive position, he was completely exposed, shackled and naked, with nothing else on but the leash tied around his low-hanging balls. For the outwardly prudish Blacksmith, however, there was freedom at this moment. He wanted more, and let his jaw hang slack; his girthy red tongue lolled and drooled over his beard, a show that he would be welcoming of anything that chose to invade his mouth.

Perhaps Halvard had indeed become what Oscar called him: “slutsmith”, but he still was thankful for the uncomfortable black burlap sack that the Satyr had tied around his head. While his vision was limited, the macabre bag at least preserved his anonymity. Although he was sure Oscar only cared that it served to mark the meaty smith as a sex object, which would explain the generous mouth-hole cut into the mask.

“Gentlemen,” Oscar shouted. “I have a new slut in from Lindow! This one owes some serious cash. Throw ten silver in the hat and do as you like- he’s sure in no position to ask questions!”

Halvard wondered why Oscar was hiding his identity. Was it a courtesy for the virgin slut?

Laughter erupted from around the room. Based on the sounds, Halvard counted ten-maybe fifteen men, all of them horny and longing, dripping in sweat and caked in dirt from a long day of labor.

“A new cumslut to drain my balls!” shouted one man lecherously. “Aye! This one looks like he could take a Minotaurs cock and still not be full up!” agreed another.

He knew these voices, townsmen that he did business with-men that respected him. Slutting at the tavern was not an uncommon practice, in fact, Halvard had enjoyed the whores that would frequent Driftwood’s tavern, but never did he expect to be on the receiving end of so many horny men.

“Doesn’t matter much now slutsmith” Halvard thought to himself. “Let go and do what needs to be done.”

His place was one of submission, and Halvard could do nothing more than respect his place as the Satyr’s slut-plaything.

Heavy footsteps approached him, followed by the clanking of coin falling onto the table. From beneath his hood, Halvard could barely make out the shapes of two chubby, fair-skinned men closing in on him. Their aprons fell to the floor first, then their tunics, and finally their trousers. Before him hung two impressive, girthy dicks slowly stiffening in arousal. The first man grasped Halvard’s head in one hand and shoved him unceremoniously into his crotch. The slutsmith’s nose sucked in musky air as his tongue lapped at the man’s fleshy sack. He pulled each testicle into his mouth slowly caressing it with his tongue, appreciating the taste.

The man gave out a satisfied moan, “You like that whore? You want Daddy’s cum?”

Halvard nodded enthusiastically, unclasping both hands he grabbed the man’s rump and pulled himself deeper into the crotch. His lips and tongue worked studiously, wetting everything within reach, and when both balls were adequately served the tip of his tongue moved to the base of the man’s shaft, guided by the man’s vice-like grip on his masked head. Halvard moved up the length of this fleshy pillar, suckling on the man’s fat cockhead, licking playfully at copious amounts of pre that had formed at the tip- some dripping onto the exposed area of his beard.

Suddenly, Halvard was interrupted by the second man, whose own cock has risen to desperate attention. “Oi! Don’t hog the whores mouth, I wan’ at it!” The drunk man bent down and grabbed Halvard by the chin. The hand squeezed, pulling apart Halvard’s jaw. The man’s lips met Halvard’s, and he forced his tongue into the slut’s gaping mouth. The resulting kiss was impassionate, lustful, and dominating; his tongue pinning Halvard’s own to the bottom of his mouth. The slutsmith submitted to this, and when the kiss was finished, the man pulled back, licking his lips.

Grasping his hardened cock, the man slapped Halvard’s lips with his thick, veiny shaft “Time to taste a real man’s cock, whore!”

Halvard did not need to be told twice.

Other men around the tavern had begun stroking themselves at the sight of the oily chained slut who was hungrily servicing all comers. A circle of erect shopkeepers and tradesmen began to form around the center of the tavern, with the cum-hungry slutsmith at its center.

Halvard’s head bobbed up and down, taking in the entirety of every cock that was presented to him. Innumerable hands grasped at his head, some grabbing the length of rope that secured his hood at the base of his neck. He would swallow the length of one dick, attending to it thoughtfully, allowing it to sit at the back of his throat as he massaged with his tongue. He felt the fleshy length pulse and throb behind his lips. There would be a groan of pleasure, the hand on his head would tighten, and a jet of thick, warm cum would empty itself into the back of Halvard’s throat. He would then be tugged in another direction to face another erect member, and the process would begin again.

For the better part of an hour, Halvard’s face was fucked by cocks and probing fingers. His jaw ached and his head had began to feel light. He struggled to suck in desperate gulps of musky air in between each throat fucking. Yet the crowd grew louder, the pace quickened, some men would rest only to come back for seconds. Halvard felt he would go mad with lust as he teetered on the verge of passing out in the pool of sweat and cum that had puddled on the floor.

“Enough.” Came a harsh voice from a darkened corner of the room.

Just as Halvard felt as if he might lose consciousness the crowd grew silent. The cock plugging his mouth retreated, and the slutsmith fell to his hands, panting for air. He slowly raised his cum-soaked head to greet the new sound of bare feet approaching. This time, it was a muscular mass of blue scales clad in bronze armor that stood looking down at him. Halvard recognized this man as a lizardkin: scaled humanoids from the arid islands to the west. They were known throughout the realm as proud warriors, philosophers, and brilliant alchemists; it was rare to see one so far into the Imperial Mainland.

“You wish to play at being a sslave, human?” His voice was deep and commanding. “I will show you how a proper slave sserves.”

Halvard recalled stories from cavaneers who had claimed to have visited the lizardkin city of Krodon. While sexual slavery was commonplace among virtually every race in the Fetterlands, the proud lizardkin were known for a sacred, ritualistic bond with their thralls. Slaves that were to be bound to a lizardkin were rigorously tested and disciplined. It was said that those who failed a lizardkins test of thralldom became breeding fodder for the lowest castes of their society- never to be heard from again.

Halvard had heard the indignation in his voice. Had he offended the lizardman with his display of slutting? The leatherbound man attempted to rectify this by showing his submission to the approaching warrior. He placed his hands behind his back, tilted his head up, and opened his drooling mouth expecting to receive the blue-scaled dominator’s cock.

This did not please the already insulted lizardman. A rumble of rage echoed from within his belly.

“Pathetic cumslut, unfit even for thralldom. I will show you your place!”

The lizard-warrior grabbed Halvard by the throat and tossed the large man effortlessly onto a nearby table. The impact causing his hands to fall behind his head. Halvard tried to move, but the chain connecting his restraints was now caught on the underside of the table, keeping him from lifting his arms.

Perhaps it was the greatsword strapped to the scaley warrior’s cross harness, or possibly they thought this was all theater, because the half-naked men about the tavern simply continued stroking themselves without showing any interest in helping the bound slut out of his escalating predicament.

The lizard-warrior reached down roughly grabbed both of the slutsmith’s calves and spread them wide. “A true slave would take pride in serving his betters. You are an undisciplined slut, nothing more.” He said coldly, undoing his codpiece and letting it drop loudly onto the floor.

A long tongue slithered it’s way out of the lizardman’s elongated maw. Wet and warm, it danced around the entrance to Halvard’s anus, provoking embarrassing moans from the slut at every passed expertly along every pleasure point around the slutsmith’s ass.

When he was satisfied, the lizardman stood expressionless and ran a finger along the tip of a slimy red penis poking out of a serpentine slit in his crotch. Gathering pre on the tip of his finger, the lizard rubbed it along the slutsmith’s lips slowly and then pushed it inside his mouth. Halvard’s lips immediately began to feel numb, and yet he found himself suckling on the lizard’s clawed finger eagerly.

He did not expect, however, that as soon as the lizardman’s sticky pre touched the tip of his tongue, that his mind would dissolve further into a lustful stupor. Powerful, arousing chemicals were absorbed into the slutsmith’s body. His mind exploded into a kaleidoscope of fantasies and fetishes, his libido kicked into overdrive, his own cock becoming harder than it ever had before. Halvard drooled more heavily now, and he allowed his head to fall back heavily on the table in sheer ecstasy.

Meanwhile, the lizard-warrior positioned himself at the entrance to the stupefied slut’s anus, and pushed into Halvard’s virgin hole with little resistance. The slutsmith groaned as his sphincter spread to accommodate the lizardman’s swollen red cock. Halvard’s legs twitched, his body heavy, as he panted in rhythm with each exploratory thrust. Each push came quicker, and his ass responded to the pressure by clenching around the slimy member. The lizardman growled as his scaly ballsack slapped wetly against the slut’s backside.

Clawed hands found their way to Halvard’s large nipples.“Ssluts like you belong locked away in my people’s breeding denss. You are a prideless whore." Halvard nodded at this, he agreed.

The lizardman’s breeding of Halvard grew more primal the closer warrior got to climax. As the moment came close, he let out a guttural hiss, an unfamiliar noise, yet immediately recognizable as one of disgust and disdain. A muscular scaled arm moved from Halvard’s nipples and reached up grabbing the hooded slut harshly by the throat, granting him no quarter from the meaty fuckstick that was decimating his ass. The other arm grabbed the leash still attached to Halvard’s cock and pulled it rhythmically with the momentum of each thrust. The lizardman fucked the slutsmith mercilessly for some time in this unceasing stranglehold.

Growing close to orgasm, the lizardman slowed his ramming of the slut’s ass briefly, leaning in towards Halvard so he would be heard,“You have true submission inside you, sslut. But it is customary for my people to provide a choice...You will walk the path of a sslave.” The lizardman paused, his voice now a whisper in Halvard’s ear, “Or I can break you now, and you will remain as nothing more than the mindless breeding bitch you sso crave to be…what say you, sslut?”

Good Ending (Halvard resists. He will continue on his quest to help the town.)

Bad Ending (Halvard submits to the lizardman’s offer to become a mindless cum dump.)

---

Good Ending (Halvard resists. He will continue on his quest to help the town.)

A moment of clarity pierced through the veil of Halvard’s foggy mind, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in his new role as a worthless cumdump. However, something stopped him short. Perhaps it was his love for the town, or perhaps more truly, the Lizardman’s words of his destiny struck Halvard- was there truly greater lusts for this submissive slutsmith to fulfill?

Halvard managed to find his voice while still being bred roughly. “I..will walk the path of a slave,” The words were barely audible.

The lizardman let out an approving groan, yanking his spasming cock out of the slutsmiths ass with a wet “pop”. The entirety of his length spasmed, his blue-scaled balls pulled up tight to his groin and he sprayed thick ropes of cum that caked Halvard’s hairy chest. In response, a tsunami of heat tore through Halvard’s own body and he too ejaculated a powerful jet of white fluid on himself.

There were quiet groans throughout the tavern as many onlookers too, came at the sight of the two completing on one another. Slowly, the fog of lust that had krept over the room began to clear.

The lizardman ran a clawed finger along Halvard’s cheek, and squeezed his chin roughly. “You may play at a normal life human, but you will not forget this moment.” The lizardman panted, “My kind can sense the secret longings of submission. I will not make you my thrall this day, but perhaps you will find your way back to me when you are better suited.”

Halvard gave a weak nod, barely sure of what the warrior had even said. The warrior was right about one thing: Halvard would not forget this moment. Even in his current state, the blacksmith could sense something awaken within him- a submissive craving yet unfulfilled. He was forever changed by the lizardman’s brief lesson.

Halvard attempted to stand, only to have the world spin about him. Lost in a drug-addled symphony of fading sounds, Halvard managed only to dislodge himself from the table before everything went black.

Halvard’s story will be continued.

_ _

Bad Ending (Halvard submits to the lizardman’s offer to become a mindless cum dump)

Halvard had found clarity at this moment: being fucked into mindless submission by a stronger and more dominant race. The lizardman’s offer was enticing, unreasonably so, and although he had fantasized about true sexual slavery, perhaps becoming a mindless brood sow for the lizardkin was all he was worth. Truly there was more for him to learn and discover, but the feeling of the lizardman’s girthy warrior-cock pulsing within him had already solidified his calling.

“Speak, sslut!” The lizardman’s grip on Halvard’s neck grew tighter cutting off the slutsmith’s air. The thrusting pushed deeper still.

“I…” Halvard began, “Please…” The slutsmith paused only briefly only pretending to weigh the consequences of what he knew what he would say next.

The once-blacksmith wrapped his two sizeable legs around his breeder’s waist, drawing the lizardman in closer-pulling the lizard cock deep into his slut-hole until all seven inches of dick were within him. “Just do it.” Halvard panted, “I’ll take all of it.”

The lizardman laughed. “I thought for a moment you had the makings of true sservitude.” There was an air of disappointment and mocking that hung on his every word now. “No matter. You will make a fine breederslut for my people.”

Halvard groaned a barely audible “Yes.” He repeated the word over and over again with every renewed thrust. He knew what was about to happen, it would be the end of him, but the heat that welled within him was now an inferno. There was no going back.

“Do it!” Halvard yelled, “fuck me!”

The lizardman’s thrusts reached a feverish pace, the loud smack of balls against ass was the only sound in the tavern for endless minutes. Then it came. The lizardman let out a guttural roar and hilted himself deep within Halvard’s anus. An enormous amount of lizard cum filled the slutsmith in torrent after torrent of constant pleasure. The toxins in the lizard’s semen were absorbed immediately and in large volume. Halvard’s mind exploded, unlike anything he had ever experienced. An indescribable pressure filled him up and then erupted forth in the most intense orgasm that the large man had ever known. So powerful was this feeling, that it felt as if it took all of the blacksmith’s spirit and mind with it.

The townsfolk grew quiet, unsure what to expect.

Halvard slumped back, entirely spent, his mind wandering from him. The lizardman removed his hand from the slutsmith’s neck. From where he lay the masked whore still mumbled incoherently, “fuck…more…breed…me.”

The warrior strapped his codpiece back and looked coldly at Oscar. “Your slut has apparently decided to come back to Krodon with me. I will compensate you properly for it.”

Oscar could only managed a vacant nod. He had other intentions for the stocky slutsmith, but Halvard was an empty shell now, useless for anything other than being bred.

The warrior made good on his word, and the next morning Oscar found his hat brimming with coin. “Fair compensation for broken wares,” the warrior called it. The Satyr stood outside in the dawn air and watched sadly as the lizardman walked proudly down the town’s main road followed closely behind by the dick-leashed Halvard. His mask had been removed, there was no use for it now. Treaties between Krodon and The Empire were clear: Halvard rightfully belonged to the lizardkin now. The entire town only watched as the once-respected blacksmith was lead along like an animal towards an almost-certain fate.

A bout of fear gripped Oscar, his benefactors wouldn’t be pleased that he had lost another mark. He could only pray the lizardman’s coin would be enough to placate their fury.

Halvard, now a mindless breeder slut, was loaded into the back of the lizardman’s covered wagon. He would be taken back to the warrior’s home to be altered by alchemists to function as an egg incubator. He was not the first human to undergo this change, and he would not be the last. The bound man was chauffeured onto a leather bench nailed into the framework of the wagon, where he allowed himself to be permanently strapped. The warrior may use him for himself during the long trip home; he could also serve to be whored out for coin along the way. Regardless, his future was written.

As the days passed what was left of Halvard’s addled mind would sometimes recall the lizardman’s original offer. Indeed, the lizard’s broken slut would never realize his secret dreams of submission to a master, or the experiences he could have had as a proper slave. Perhaps worst of all, his town’s future now hung in the balance.

These thoughts were so rare and fleeting however that eventually they would dissolve into nothing.

Halvard lied motionless, bound to his new home strapped to the fuck bench. From outside the caravan, he could hear the lizardman accepting offers of coin in exchange for his slut’s ass. Halvard gazed blankly forward, instinctively shifting his large rump upwards to welcome a new train of dicks. A part of him was dissatisfied, knowing that even if the lizardman recruited dozens of men, it wouldn’t be enough. Soon though, they would arrive in Krodon, and he would never go wanting for cock again.