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Peace had returned to Baldur’s Gate after the attack on the city. People told rumors about a Bhaalist cult unleashing a plague upon the city, whereas others spoke of a repentant adventurer on a quest to undo wrong. However, everyone had seen the fight involving the enormous flying brain and… Well, the Mindflayers that had been flying and eating around until the last of its kind had been swiftly dealt with, with a hammer.

Michel Barrelios and Augustus Barrelios, the two guards' brothers, were lucky they were not part of the said conspiracy, and they were out of town during that period to handle a group of Half-Orcs bandits. As luck had it, it ended with them bringing the prisoners back to a ruined town that desperately needed free hands, to the point their prisoners were freed on the condition they worked on rebuilding the city along with the inhabitants.

Anybody would have been miffed to have their prey suddenly released and to find their hometown in ruins… Yet, the two Brothers seemed to have taken it in strides.

But it was so with the two brothers, so nonchalant while constantly clad in their helmets, two bascinets: a rounded visor for Michel, the most diplomatic and talkative of the two, and a slitted visor for Augustus, allowing his green eyes to peer at anyone who passed by them on their way to the Central Market.

“Sheesh, it’s getting boring!” groaned Michel as he looked up, glancing at the summer sun way above their heads, hitting them and the bustling Market. The major part of it had been restored, like High Town. However, much more needed to be rebuilt once you got those two districts done. Luckily for the brothers, it wasn’t their duty to watch over the rebuilding process, and they had been stationed on a fairly easy duty.

“Hrmphh,” answered Augustus, his gruff voice low as he kept watch, his hand on his pommel. He was always the watchful guard, the one who noted every detail. Such as when he pointed in one direction with a growl.

“There,” he stated, focusing on an adjacent street where a ruckus could be heard.

“Do you want to investigate? You know we must stay here,” said Michel with a chuckle, adjusting his spear and butting it into the soft ground while he glanced at said street. Well, at least… It would be in the shadows and… He grunted, his helmeted head tilting as if to think and ponder.

“Nothing happens here,” retorted Augustus, with more words than usual. His bascinet remained turned towards that street while Michel tried to glance away. It was true the Market was calm. With the rebuilding, most urchins and little thieves had to turn to other ventures or even become merchants. Nothing like a chaotic destruction to see the whole economy go through a little upheaval. The thought caused Michel's chuckle as he turned towards the Basilisk’s door or what remained of it. Rares were the refugees going through it anymore, most having arrived months ago and become citizens as long as they joined the rebuilding effort.

“Fine. But if we get caught, you know what happens.”

“We were ambushed, and we couldn’t fight.”

“Right!” laughed Michel, smacking his brother’s left shoulder as they left their posts and beelined towards the adjacent streets. Most had been rebuilt, but parts and pieces of the previous buildings were still on the way, making the progress tedious for the two Guards.

“What do you think it’ll be?”

“Bugbears,” said Augustus, taking an extended inhalation and grunting. “Maybe a Hobgoblin.”

“Sheesh, it’ll be a mouthful!” laughed Michel, his spear stomping on the ground as they continued forward. Without even a signal from his little brothel, Michel noticed the presence lurking behind them. They left the summer sun behind as well as the open roads, instead going for the twisting and turning streets until they were in a cul-de-sac. Without thinking, Michel smacked the tip of his spear against the wall, checking it. Only to hear a cough behind them… He turned, facing what was in front of them. A Hobgoblin, as said by Augustus. The same Augustus had a relaxed grip, and demeanor seemed to change when he glanced at the red-skinned humanoid.

Big nose, long ears, little black eyes, pointy teeth, relatively short with a dry feature… Here was the Hobgoblin. Along with the Bugbears, three muscular beasts with extremely long arms. Much like the Hobgoblin, their traits were brutish yet amplified by the fur all over their bodies. However, they all wore leather armor, at least their bases, covering their groins and legs. An improvement to their counterparts living outside the cities.

Such species ought to be hated and scorned, thought the city dwellers.

“Well, well, what do we have, boys? Fresh meat? Hand over your weapons and gold, guards, or it’ll go bad!” said the Hobgoblin, clearly the boss in that little clique. Even his armor was of better quality, and he had a mace at his hip. He was the real target and danger here, while the Bugbears were mostly… Looking around, as if not caring how it would go.

“Wait… What if we got better to offer?” asked Michel with a smile, glancing at his brother, who nodded. Without a second thought, he offered Augustus his spear and advanced, moving closer to the Hobgoblin while unarmed. “You recently arrived in town? I’ve never seen you and your group before.”

As soon as Michel advanced, the Hobgoblin gripped his mace and pointed it at the armored Guard: “One more step.”

“Calm down,” Michel said, both hands raised and stopping. “You recently arrived, right?”

“Yes. The boys and I had to sneak around. Why’s that a problem? They should be more careful with security. And you, going after us on your own.”

“Oh. But we were not after you; we wanted to meet you,” said Michel, taking another step without eliciting another ill-advised reaction. While he wasn’t the smartest, his gravy voice was soothing to hear and charming, almost welcoming people to trust him.

“What’s the difference? After us or for us? You want to kill or cage us. That’s what city folks do,” answered the Hobgoblin, sniffing the air.

“Not at all. Not us,” chuckled Michel as he descended his hands along his armor.

Plates' armor was always difficult to remove as they were a bundle of interwoven straps keeping everything together unless you wanted that protection to be flimsy. You had to secure each part… But when you had a few modifications, and used a central strap… Plus a few alterations to the chainmail below. Well, it only took Michel two movements before a loud [I]CLANK! [/I]Echoed within the cul-de-sac. The bugbears jumped, and the Hobgoblin nearly smacked Michel. But then, his mace and his jaws dropped when he saw it. Well, he could have expected a dagger or a hidden weapon.

Not to have the Human strip parts of his armor before him, moon him… And show along those tattoos over those plump and hairy cheeks. Michel’s ass was… Well, delicious. Perfectly round, mixing fat and muscles without fail, possessing a wide and sweaty crevice. His rosy skin was redder from the heat and the contact with the heated metal, but it was nonetheless beautiful… That and the two symbols: of a skull before a red moon, with an axe behind it all; and a stylized eye with surrounding ripplings.

The Hobgoblin or the Bugbears didn’t know the latter. But the first… oh. It was a brand, a “divine brand” maybe. Caught by the sight and his hands moving closer, the Hobgoblin finally touched that meat… Touched, stroked, and pushed against those firm cheeks while the human grunted.

“What is this? Human?” asked the Hobgoblin, turning his head and noticing the bascinet turned towards him.

“A gift we received for being such good partners,” said Michel, swaying his hips, making his ass giggle.

“We?”

[I]CLANK!

[/I]Everyone but Michel turned their head towards Augustus, whose weapons had been stowed away… And whose plates had dropped, no different than Michel. However, where they all expected a rosy skin from another human, that one had a gray and green hue to the skin. A half-orc. Yet, the Hobgoblin saw that firm ass, no different than Michel… Except for the cum dripping from the hole and the number of tally marks on it.

“Hey! You didn’t tell me you had a moment with the crew!” grunted Michel. His bascinet turned at Augustus and checked those cheeks, even extending a gauntleted hand to tug on them and even slip a finger between them.

“You were busy with our groceries,” answered Augustus, prosaic.

“Bastard. Include me, next time! Or tell them to wait!”

“… What the fuck are you?” suddenly butted in the Hobgoblin, stopping the exchange until the Brothers turned their head towards him and the Bugbears, who seemed… Distraught or excited.

“Augustus Barrelios,” said the Half-Orc, grabbing his cheeks to pull them apart and exposing his puffy and swollen dark rim. His hole had been so… Stretched and abused, it had lost its original shape and looked like a donut.

“Michel Barrelios,” continued the Human, imitating his brother, showing off a golden piercing going through the rim, imitating where would be a clit piercing on that vertically-slitted orifice. “Brothers, Guards, and Monsterfuckers, at your service! My lord, Hobgoblin!”

The Hobgoblin blinked, watching that sight and barely hearing the flump and noise of leather dropping. But he surely noticed the large Bugbear’s hand pushing him away while the three Bugbears flocked those bastards in steel, bending over, checking and touching their asses.

“For us?” asked one of the Bugbear, Scrawny. The strongest of the lot.

“Yes! Anything for a stud like you!” answered Michel, gladly eyeing one of those Bugbears’ cocks: wide, large, and extremely lengthy. Almost akin to a third arm! The man’s visor couldn’t pull away from that vision.

“The hole is soft. So soft,” groaned Smarty, his nickname proving his “stupidity” while his fingers went inside the half-orc’s hole and started to push into it. To explore it, to even tug on it while its owner groaned and moaned without any resistance.

“We’re ready for you, sir!” moaned Michel as he felt one of those cocks press against his rim. His voice quivered, his legs tensed… And without a doubt, that thick and bulbous cockhead slipped inside. One inch went in without any resistance or clenching from the human. Without any reaction except a deep moan and a groan from Michel: “Oh. They’ll stretch us good, Brother!”

A cry soon echoed when the Half-Orc, too, was suddenly grabbed by the hips, by his metal armor, and… A bugbear went inside him, stretching his guts and eliciting a huff from the Guard.

Two guards. Two sluts… It didn’t seem to particularly stop the Bugbears as their bodies moved together with their targets, their massive arms easily grabbing the sides and keeping the Guards steady while going to town inside them. At the same time, they enjoyed the plushy and soft innards the Brothers offered to their abusers and Goblinoids. Many would be disgusted by bugbears and Hobgoblins. It would be easy for a human to unsheathe a blade and attempt to kill them.

However, the two were only… Taking them. Taking them and grunting as those big-dicked Goblinoids, whose dicks were reaching the 10 inches for the smallest, were bull-rushing their guts and asses. Their holes, ready and prepared, still tensed and thinned from the brutal insertion.

But were there any complaints from them? Not at all when the two brothers moaned to their heart’s delight, their bodies smacking back against their lovers’ groin, amplifying and echoing the tempo the Bugbears used. Their hips pushed and forced on, enduring the Goblinoid’s nuts slapping against their cheeks, painting them red, blue, and gray until their asses were a colorful display dedicated to their lusts.

“More! More! Faster!” cried Augustus, the strongest and the most brutal, his clenching rim holding tightly on the third Bugbear as he finally went inside.

The goblinoid behind went at it, grunting and growling, quasi-howling within Baldur’s Gate as he felt and embraced the warm, silky hole. Both holes seemed tempting and delicious as the bugbears, not that excited usually, were taking those holes again and again. They had the stamina, but never before they had been so relentless in fucking and spreading their seeds. Goblinoids usually did the deed for the mere purpose of breeding. But they were taking their time and seemingly enjoying it.

“It’s that good?” asked the Hobgoblin, curious. He looked at his subordinates and followers, at their smiling faces when the two were going on a rampage inside Michel’s ass, two at the same time with their hips pistoning in tandem: when one pulled back, the other went in… And in both situations, the Human was spread and… Grunting, groaning, yet never asking for them to stop. Neither did the Half-Orc.

“It’s… Good! Boss!” moaned Scrawny, his claws scratching the Guard’s plates while he pushed onward and… yes, smacked that prime ass brutally. Yes… With those bare and massive hands, the Bugbear almost went to smack that ass, handing to the brutality of its current treatment. But the Guard wasn’t… Crying. Not at all; instead, there were begging and moans as the two guards were relentlessly taken. For…

Hours?

Still aside, the Hobgoblin watched how the moment unfurled and how his team had devolved into a fuckfest that was out of hands. The sun was no longer visible when looking up above between the buildings. The sounds outside the cul-de-sac were getting rowdier, and yet, none dared to approach as everyone could hear the Bugbears’ growls and vocalization.

But… Finally, they dropped. All three, one by one, abandoned until the large three Bugbears ended up sitting on crates near the two guards who had not only kept their position. But hadn’t asked for a reprieve.

“Need a breather, gentlemen? We can continue in a few!” laughed Michel, looking above his shoulder with his bascinet turned at the Bugbears, then at the Hobgoblin, before he gave his reddened ass another smack. “You never tried it. Why not try it out, sir Hobgoblin?”

“I won’t. It’s a trap. I’m only fucking females,” retorted the Hobgoblin, crossing his arms and trying to look intimidating. However, it didn’t work as the Half-Orc joined his Brother and began to spread his buttcheeks: his hole was dilated, creampied, with Bugbear seed dripping from it. A semen so thick and stuffy it was akin to goo. A white gelatinous goo dangling from his wrinkled rim, swaying under the movement without breaking the thread. Then… It dropped. On the stone ground, adding up to the little puddle under the two Guards and Sluts.

“Your friends don’t say so,” continued Michel, slipping a finger within his ass. The rim was soft, so swollen. He pushed the index within it, then… Tugged. Slowly, ever so slowly, until the hole’s inner walls were exposed: fleshy and rosy. Deviant to the sight, yet so tempting… It looked cleaner than a Goblin’s pussy, and way more tempting, way more adapted.

Even a Female Hobgoblin wasn’t as inviting as it was presented. And there were two of them.

Two who seemed rather eager to show themselves and chuckle, exchanging without sharing a single word. He looked at them… Then, he looked down, checking the slight damp spots in his pants. Pants that were way too tight at the moment as he finally grunted and relented, jumping on his feet and passing a tired hand over his face, only managing to smear the grime onto it without wiping it away.

“Fine! But you will know why Hobgoblins are so dangerous! We’ve got the stamina!” boasted the Goblinoid, stepping forth where his teammate had abandoned.

His hands landed on those human cheeks, his calloused fingers dancing over the soft buttocks: those asses were so smooth, they had never been hit or maimed, even when partnered with… more of his kind? That was an exploit, but he was sure to give them a good lesson as he started to slip one hand into each hole, uncaring if they were unclenching or not. He slipped the hands right away, going with five fingers for each Guard, plunging deep within their holes and feeling those inner walls squirm and tremble, closing upon his wrists, yet allowing him to pass and continue deeper.

He felt their bodies tense and shiver as his fingers moved within, the knuckles nudging and poking at those spots, helped and lubed by the Bugbears’ ejaculations. He had no issue slipping his fists within and even found it. He didn’t know much about sex, but his other Hobgoblin partners sometimes spoke about it. A spot that made the humanoids and goblinoids squirm all the same. He pushed it, then used his index to draw circles around it.

Beneath his touch, the two Guards trembled and quivered, their faces turning at one another until they… Nodded?

They nodded. Yet they didn’t move or try anything stupid. They stayed there, but then… The Human’s voice took a shrill intonation and spoke over the moans, suctions, and the Bugbears’ weakened groans.

“Please! Please! I’m too sensitive, there! Hobgoblin sir! Please don’t abuse my hole, don’t abuse that spot! Please! If I cum now, I’ll be ashamed!” shouted the Human, his voice egging on the Hobgoblin, maybe driving him into a trap? The thought of it wasn’t impossible.

… Yet, why care about a trap when it was possible to teach two humanoids their places, especially as the half-orc joined the party and cried, his coarse voice going higher.

“Please! Please! Don’t ruin my hole! I must walk back to the garrison afterward!”

A hushed whisper emanated from the Human, but nothing that indicated the Hobgoblin had to stop.

Rather, he grinned as he felt he controlled the situation over those two. With a sudden pull, he tugged on their holes and slipped his fingers out, not without almost yanking their rims out. But then, his cum-covered fingers removed his entire attire: they went over the buckle, he stole it; undoing his shirt, he stole that one too; he pushed the pants, the same as the others. He pulled everything down, uncaring for exposing himself.

He was hard, rigid, erect, needy, excited. His cock, almost eight inches long, was perfect, leathery with a red hue. The tip was bulbous, with a foreskin slightly pulled down from the erection, uncovering the purpler shade that was the gland. Veins danced and throbbed along the length, bringing the warm blood within. Lower was the base, quite thick but concealed under the gray bushes that were his unruly and unkept pubes. The same pubes meddled and mingled with the hair over the red scrotum, almost concealing the red skin and the sizeable testicles, practically similar to oranges. Females favored him on his prowess and his… Virility. Not something every Hobgoblin could possess, and he usually didn’t wait for others to inquire to boast about it.

However, today, he wouldn’t use his mast on females. With a kick, he pushed a crate behind the Half-Orc’s raised ass so he would be at the perfect height and angle.

“Please, sir Hobgoblin! Start with my brother! He’s stronger! He will please you!” moaned Michel, his voice high, but his excitation was perceptible and soaring higher.

“No! He’s more delicate!” retorted Augustus, his voice more controlled.

“I’ll take you both, sluts!” mocked the Hobgoblin, albeit his firm hands were all over Augustus’s gray and green posterior. He felt the tufty hair beneath his digits as he gave that ass a firm squeeze. Muscles answered and tensed under the skin. But it wasn’t enough.

The Hobgoblin smiled to himself as he pressed his rigid cock against the slithered hole, feeling its natural suction on his cock… And then, he pressed onward, forced his hips, and smacked his red nuts against that ass while he bull-rushed inside. The Half-Orc cried, no doubt about it, and grunted. His voice, still low, had a slight tremor that amplified whenever the Hobgoblin shifted his angle and… yes, massaged the prostate, the hard spot way inside.

It was a dance, with his hips gyrating and moving to ensure the best angle to use on the half-orc. He sometimes had to go on his toes to ensure his dick firmly smacked the good spot and caused a cry. But most of the time, he merely shifted his posture while on the crate and his hands firmly holding Augustus’ ass.

“He’s pushing my spot, Brother!” cried the Guard, his voice rougher from the helmet he wore. But the pleasure was palpable, as much as heard when the Half-orc’s mast hit his belly.

The two brothers had nothing to be ashamed of: they were hung. Quite so, as they had long and wide cocks with testicles of similar size, yet none were of use as the Hobgoblin pushed and rammed. He drove within, smacking his red nuts against the reddening skin. His cock forced onward, despite the desperate clenching over his cockhead, attempting to stow him. But it only amplified the sensations they both received, producing shivers from Augustus and more moans. More moans and more… Tremors.

Such a weak display for the Hobgoblin, whose stamina allowed him to endure sessions that would last hours! He laughed, boastful as he picked up his pace.

He hastened his hips, his movements. Soon, the sound of suction was a constant as much as the smacking thighs. But everything moved faster, a crescendo in amplitude and frequency the Hobgoblin enforced without a sweat.

He chuckled, he smiled, he gave those cheeks another smack. And as he felt his orgasm reach a high, he… released it.

There was no need to keep it going and restrain himself as he was at it, as he was at the limit. He growled, sighed… And within a second, his semen added up to the Bugbears’. Below him, the Half-Orc seemed to have stopped his cry and was recovering from the abuse he had taken. Good.

But it would be his turn in a few.

As much as it was the Human’s turn at that moment. The Hobgoblin jumped off a crate to ascend on another placed behind Michel’s buttocks. That one’s hole was just as ruined as the Half-orc. But it would be his duty to ruin it, to outstretch that ass until it looked no different than a female’s ravaged cunt after the breeding period. He admired the rotund shape. He stroked it… And then, he smacked it, hearing the plaintive moan. Good, the human was on edge.

“Get ready, bitch. I’m going in!”

“I’m pr-HRMPH!”

A little trick, but by asking the Human to unclench, he forced him to focus on an answer and not the act. For half a second, the Hobgoblin watched the rim naturally clench and attempt to keep the Bugbears’ cum within. An error that led to the sudden and brutal penetration. To that cum-coated cockhead suddenly punching the Human’s cunt and spreading it.

He forced it apart, listening to the groans and weak moans from the guard. That time, he wasn’t listening or caring.

From his last ejaculation, his dick was still a bit raw, but he pushed away the slight pain while he pushed in. He felt the clenched hole close onto his dick, attempting to slow him down. The pressure over his cockhead, the foreskin until it was unfurled, the veiny shaft, down to the base, he experienced it with a clear delight. He sighed, throwing his head back while he heard sniffing and gargling from the Human. Oh, it was good to dominate those lesser ones.

He gripped those cheeks and then pulled, dragging along the folds and feeling them sucking on his dick as he was certain he had pulled more than half of it inside. He looked down, watching the slight prolapse… Before he grunted and crammed it all back inside with a sudden thrust.

He growled, though his voice didn’t go higher than the Human’s. He growled and slammed that ass before he pulled… And slammed it again, his hefty nuts smacking so hard he was afraid he would hurt himself for a second. But then resumed with the same need, the same brutality, the same lust.

“Squeal! Human! Squeal and beg!” roared the Hobgoblin, his fingers digging into the soft cushiony flesh. He pulled and squeezed it, feeling the fat roll beneath his knuckles while the human cried and his sphincter released, but for a second.

“MORE! MORE SIR!” cried Michel, his voice high-pitched… And higher when he got spanked, forcing his hole to clench from the sudden pain.

A spanking… With the idea in mind, the Hobgoblin pulled back and then… Smacked. He smacked as he forced down, feeling the tremor within the bitch as much the grip on his cockhead. It was… Good! It felt good! It was fun!

And he laughed as he continued, alternating left and right hand as he sensed his pleasure heighten, his prostate grow needy, and his balls clench.

With a final hit on the human’s ass, the Hobgoblin leaned forward and gripped, anchoring himself while he came within the Human, heeding his heaving breaths and whines. Completed by a moan when that hot Hobgoblin semen added up to the lot.

“I’m not done,” chuckled the Hobgoblin. It was almost a whisper to the Human’s ears. As he pulled, his cock remained a mess of cum and fluids that dripped with his jump and steps even when he got to the Half-Orc’s crate, going inside the guard to have another moment. And again, would he return to the Human’s ass when he was done.

He expected them to be done after two more rounds, but they were not.

He expected them to beg him to stop after three more, but they did not.

He expected them to drop after five, but they remained.

Slowly, the surprise and consternation had sown doubts in his mind. Yet, his ego and pride remained steadfast, ensuring they would be punished and adequately abused.

He had to show them who’s best. He had to be the one who broke them! He had to stay…

“Do you think he’s done?” asked Michel, his voice low as he was the one getting the Hobgoblin’s dick. His ass was a little raw and sore, but he endured. He tried to act puny, crying and moaning in tandem with the Hobgoblin. He was hard, rigid… But he hadn’t cum after hours of edging, and it was getting harder.

“Hmm? No. I expect one more-… Oh. Wrong.”

Michel blinked, surprised... And as surprised to feel the hand suddenly releasing his ass but no cum. He also felt the Hobgoblin pull back and heard a loud thump behind him. He kept in position, expecting their “Sir” to get back on his feet and continue. And yet… No moves.

“He’s done, then,” chuckled Michel as he straightened himself and poked his hard dick, dripping with whiteish precum.

He poked it, much like Augustus, who remained rockhard but didn’t complain. Before them were a quatuor of exhausted goblinoids. Should they be left alone, they would sow chaos and conflict inside the town. Nonetheless, even having another guard find them would have ended in a bloodbath. But it wouldn’t.

And it was with their pants back on the two lifted the criminals, three stacked over Augustus' back, strapped. And the last one within Michel’s arms, the Hobgoblin remained with him. Through movements and shakings, the poor fucker slowly arose from his slumber but weakened. His eyes opened and closed at intervals; his arms were too weak to lift and reach for Michel’s helmet. But he spoke, his voice low and coarse.

“What… Have you done? Don’t… Bring me to prison, slut!” groaned the Hobgoblin with all the authority he possessed at the moment. Which meant nothing for the two guards as they left for High Town, dismissing away the other Guards commenting on where the prison should be and the smell… Or the cum dripping from the “criminals”’ groins.

“You won’t go to prison,” said Michel, his voice joyful behind the helmet. “None of you are.”

“Oh… Thank Maglubiyet,” answered the Hobgoblin, resting.

“Instead, we’ll keep you in our domain and ride you.”

The Goblinoid looked up, checking the Helmet to see if, somehow, he could see a grin appear on it. But no. And that voice was serious, oh so serious.

“You’re… laughing. After all that? You still want-“

“I haven’t cum, and neither has my brother. Maybe with you four plus the others, we will be satisfied,” laughed Michel.

“The others?”

“Your future partners in crime. Don’t worry; we’ll take care of your needs. And if you make us cum, maybe we will release you. Welcome to your new home.”