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Tales from the Dark City

Chapter 1- Barbarian Brothers

Featuring: Watt, Lup, Urs, Granpug, Jerled

Watt let himself into the Hind from the back alleyway just as he normally did. The old crude joke he'd shared with Garn and Barock about being the Hinds back door man running through his aching head. He had a painful bump, the result of a Watchman's club hitting him, but otherwise he was all right. He entered the kitchen, and opened the shutters letting in the thin band of sunlight that made it down the alleyway. Not that he needed much light; his half Orcish blood allowed him some vision in the gloom. Watt began moving around the kitchen in his normal routine, but it quickly became obvious that the place had been ransacked. He checked the beer store room and found it too had been turned over, there was a 10 gallon barrel dumped in the middle of the room instead of on its normal rack. Watt rubbed his head, and drew himself a pint to sup while he tried to figure out what had happened.

The riot had not touched this part of town directly, more the main Adventurers quarter and the Merchants district just over from that. He had been clobbered by a Watchman just down on Paragan St......hum....had he locked the door and shut the window before he'd left? Well they had been locked this morning! Watt checked the kitchen again, and found the spare key in the flour and dust by the backdoor. The slide marks next to it, suggested it had been pushed back under the door. He shook his balding head, he now had courteous thieves to deal with! He supped more of his pint, and rubbed his large rumbling gut; explanations could wait until after breakfast. Looking in the oven and fire place, he discovered nothing but barely warm ashes. That both fires had burned themselves out so completely was odd, but then it wasn't like it had never happened. Digging out his battered old fire box, Watt relit the fires- noting his coal pile was getting low. He tromped down to the cellars, and was not surprised to find it too had been turned over, though he was pleasantly surprised to find his egg supply had escaped notice. There was one sugar cured ham still hanging in the smoke room, so he carved off a few thick slices. Grabbing some mushrooms he returned to the kitchen, the oven was hot now so he took a heavy iron pan down. Rubbing a bit of day old grease in it, he tossed the ham slices in; listening pleased as the meat began to sizzle and pop, taking deep snuffling breaths of the smell, with his wide broken Orcish nose. Cooking the ham first, he then broke open his egg's; dropping then into the smoking grease. The bread box still had half a loaf of day old rye in it, which he nabbed. Watt made mental notes of what he needed to replace as he went along. In between scrambling his pan full of eggs, he drew another tankard of ale; and sawed the hard bread into thick chunks. Watt tossed the mushrooms into the whole mess then poured the lot onto his old favourite serving platter.

Sitting with his pint, and a rich breakfast fit for an Ogre; Watt tried to work things though. He really wasn't sure if he should even be here, Garn was dead! And though he owed the old bastard no loyalty, Garn did pay Watt's low wages. He briefly entertained the notion of claiming the place as his own, but then as he finished the last of his ham; it occurred to him he knew nothing of running a bar. A vague memory started to return, as his head cleared from his beating and the alcohol got everything ticking over. Hadn't the big Watchman who killed Garn said something about him losing the bar? Watt had been listening at the kitchen door, but had not caught all of it. Something about Dragon Poker...? Watt cursed that game for the xxth time, that game had cost him the treasure he and his adventuring band had got from that Dwarvern tomb! If only the suit-shifting rule had not meant his Full Dragon, had been overcome by the straight bloody Unicorn flush! He wouldn't be working as a cook, at least not in a dive like this anyway! He sighed gustily. Every attempt he made to improve his lot seemed cursed by the Spirits! Doomed to fail even as triumph seemed so close! He'd tried adventuring, but every time he lost all his loot! Between robbers, taxes, Dragon poker and pretty rent boi's, it all seemed to slip through his fingers like water. He'd got in on the gold rush in the mountains to the south, but all that had gotten him was a nasty clawing and sexual humiliation from a young Dragon whose lair he'd wandered into. He'd even tried selling his body, but the Humans where afraid of his bestial appearance so didn't want him, and the Orcs just laughed because they thought he was so ugly! Of all those that frequented the Hind, he was the only one who didn't get fucked or sucked! The only thing he was vaguely any good at was swinging a sword, and cooking. The thought never occurred to him that it might be his own faults; instead he bitterly cursed fate for making him an ugly Half Breed. He released another deep sigh to himself, and then belched loudly. By the Spirits, he hated mornings!

Leaping to his feet, Watt stalked off to the latrines under the stair to the ‘bedrooms'. As he was coming out a noise caught his attention, the creak of wood, and was that bedsprings...? He looked up the stairs but there was no further noise. It was probably Barock. He shrugged, and returned to the kitchen; perhaps he could get some of the mess cleaned up before the ‘new owners' arrived. Tho' he hated the thought of sucking up, he really had no other prospects.

Lup opened his black eyes. He felt wonderful; his body rested, his mind relaxed. He lay on his thick back, and studied the dirty wooden ceiling for a moment, letting the rich male smell of his brother next to him waft into his nostrils. Urs's big manhood was pressing into Lups side, the bigger mans thick hairy left arm draped over Lup's chest. Lup looked along its thick length, and onto the shoulder of his brother. Urs skin was mostly hidden by the thick covering of three inch long hair. Lup smiled as he remembered the time they had made Urs up as a Sasquach for a party, not that his own fur covering was any less thick, but Urs had the bulk for it......the memory reminded him of the time where he'd.......he shook his shaggy head. Time for reminiscing later, he wanted to check out this place they had won. He lifted his brother's thick heavy arm off his chest, and slid himself out of the bed. ‘Hum...we'll need a bigger and stronger one!' He thought looking at the broken headboard and the cracked frame ‘if that was what only one night did to it!'

Lup shook himself out, enjoying the play of his big muscles as they moved themselves about. He stretched and started his daily exercises- flexing and popping each muscle group. He felt the blood warm and pump into each part of him as he did, he loved that feeling. His big manhood swelled, and bounced against his thighs as he woke his body up. He resisted the desire to tug at it however, plenty of time for that later!

"Looks good to me." Urs rumbled suddenly cutting into Lup's routine. Lup spun around, and into a wrestling stance.

"Wanna try it out?" He whispered back, Urs licked his thick lips and smiled.

"Not in here!" He answered. "We'd smash everything in the room!"

"It's all junk." Lup said gesturing at the old broken down furniture.

"Move over." Urs rumbled, as he pulled his massive frame from the bed. "Make some space for a real fighter!" Lup growled at him, but shifted over a little; turning so he was face to face with his brother. Urs stretched and flexed like Lup had, and then began the same warming exercises his brother had gone through. Wordlessly Lup restarted his own routine, and quickly they where moving in synch, watching each other like predators, trying to spot any flaws or errors.

The kitchen was nearly back to normal, the Half Orc had almost everything put away or transferred to another container if the original has too badly damaged. The thieves had taken basic long life provisions, as well as some beer and fresh meat. He reckoned he'd find firelighters, oil fuel and some burners missing when he started tiding the store room. He heard some movement from upstairs- that would be Barock then. He'd be down in a bit demanding his morning feed as normal, probably with his latest pretty conquest in tow- showing him off like a new nose ring. Watt sniffed in distain, he probably knew more about Barock's sex life than anyone else here! Garn was normally not out of his own pit by the time the Half Ogre came down, and Barock never failed to tell Watt all the gory details of his night's entertainment. Barock seemed to take great delight in making sure he told Watt all the details of the sweet pleasures, he knew Watt was not getting. It was petty and cruel, but then it was Barock. The cook smiled to himself, he'd been jerking off onto Barock's food as revenge for a long time now, it all kinda balanced.......

Watt would wait for the Half Ogre to turn up in the bar, and spend at least 10 minutes talking to him before he set the food cooking. If last nights partner was not staying, then it was one less meal he had to cook and as a plus the wait would annoy the big Half Ogre. Many of Barock's conquests did not want to stay for breakfast, partly because the huge Half Ogre was awful rough on them, and partly because he was renowned for ‘suggesting' they make a morning of it in his room as well. Watt kept one ear on the door to the stairs, as soon as he heard it open and close he put down the broom and moved out into the bar, a big fake smile on his blunt rough face, the mottled skin of his Half Breed heritage shining in the sunlight.

"So what did you do in the riot then?" He called as he pushed open the swinging door.

Lup whirled around at the sound of a voice, his massive blocky fists clenched but not raised to strike. A tall, fat, ugly and very surprised Half Orc faced him, a smile dying on his blunt face. Lup quickly took in the large, if soft muscles, the big gut that hung heavy over his beltline, the short cropped thinning hair, dirty greasy coveralls. No weapons. 'Cook.' He decided no threat. He relaxed his massive arms and fists.

"Greetings." He rumbled in the common trading language.

Watt stared dumbfounded at the hairy giant in front of him. Nearly three heads taller than a normal man, taller than even the tallest Orc or Elf he'd ever seen. As tall as the doorways, heck taller! But he was big as well, as big as some of the Arena's Gladiators, all thick muscle, but somehow over his height he did not seem to have the bulk of many, he seemed lean like a predator. Watt felt his manhood stir as he looked at the enormous man, the thick hair covering him only turned him on more. Watt could only imagine what was hidden behind the tan coloured leather loin cloth which was the only thing the giant was wearing, still he knew without even thinking about it that he wanted it!

"Are you from the Giantblood Clans?" The giant spoke again snapping the Cook out of his trance. "You where staring at my Clan symbol." The big man lifted the flap of the loin cloth that was decorated with the double mountain symbol of the Highridges Clan. Watt's jaw dropped, a throaty grunt of shock and delight escaping his open mouth as he saw the bulge of the cloth beneath the decorated flap.....franticly he struggled to find a coherent thought; but all reason had seemingly fled his skull.

Lup grinned, as he read the Cooks reaction; knowing a man lover when he saw one. He dropped the flap of his loin cloth, and walked over to the Half Orc. The Cook was tall, about a head over a normal Orc. Therefore one and a half over a Human, still he would be small for a Clan member. Lup ran a hand over the front of the Half Orc's coverings, and touched the hard shaft within 'hum....not a bad size' he thought, squeezing and stroking it through the rough grease stained cloth. The Half Orc's ugly mud coloured eyes widened, then half closed as the pleasure of being touched by another filled him. His breath deepened, and he swallowed hard; hip's pumping forwards into the caress. Lup stroked him through the rough grease stained cloth, until the Half Orc grunting and trembling exploded into his under-garments. He bucked wildly against Lup's huge hand for a moment or two longer, and then fell backwards exhaustedly. Lup grabbed him by his coverall straps, before he fell though the kitchen door; dumping him in a nearby chair. The cook sat there for a few moments breathing heavy, a look of amazed bliss on his blunt face.

"Now we have that out of the way, perhaps you could tell me your name and why you're here?" Watt blinked a few times at the barbarian giant in front of him, his head spun with confusion, pleasure and even desire. "Your reaction often happens amongst..... certain peoples." Lup explained smiling softly. "It's something about the magical blood we carry, you are not the first; still, release tends to break the spell." The giant smiled at him, showing off his quite sharp teeth. "So who are you?" He asked once again.

"Er.....I...I... am Watt." The Half Orc cook stammered, his thoughts slowly clearing.

"You're the Cook... yes?"

"Yes I cook." Watt answered again dully, still unsure about the apparition before him.

"Good, we will need a Cook." The big man assured, smiling at the still befuddled Watt.

"You're the new owner?" Watt said amazed.

"Me and my brother Urs...yes. My name is Lup." He reached out a mighty paw, and Watt shook it; his own big mottled fist swallowed up by Lup's.

"I didn't expect anyone like you to have it." Watt said bluntly. "Don't really know why you'd want it!"

"Surprise then!" A new, deeper voice rumbled as the stairs doors pushed open. Watt felt himself get hard again, as what could only be the brother came into the tap room. The second one was not as tall, about Watt's height but he was bigger, much, much bigger, at least as wide as two normal Humans standing shoulder to shoulder and as thick through the body as two Orcs standing behind each other. His torso was barrel shaped, the legs reminded Watt of two mighty tree trunks; those arms like other men's thighs! He was bigger than Barock! Only the Ogres Watt had seen in the Arena where bigger than this behemoth! He was hairier than his brother; the pelt seemed almost three inches long in places! Watt felt an amazing attraction to this stud, he wanted the contents of the loin cloth he wore; wanted it now! He started to rise from his seat, but a massive hand found his groin. Quick, sure caresses making his body jerk; and spasm as orgasm overtook him again. He slumped back into the chair, the room spinning as he panted for breath.

"He's the Cook." Lup informed his brother.

"Another man lover I see." Urs sniggered.

"It is a buck bar!" Lup grinned, as he watched the fat sweaty cook try and recover.

"Thank the gods for that!" Urs chuckled. "That'll probably happen to a lot of them!"

"Should be good for business tho'!" Lup laughed, walking over to kiss his brother.

"So what we got?" He asked.

"There is a second floor above where we slept- a barracks style room. There's also a good selection of rooms, on the same floor as ours... all empty. Then there are latrines down stairs, which suggests cellars. I presume a kitchen, and stores back there." He gestured with a hand towards the kitchen door.

"All empty?" Watt suddenly asked surprised, his befuddled brain slowly working again. "Where's Barock?"

"Who's Barock?" Urs rumbled.

"Half-Ogre... big bloke, bit of a bully really." Watt answered looking to first one of the giants, and then to the other. Standing next to each other it was obvious they where of the same Giantblood Clan, but not of the same bloodline. Lup had a much thinner face, a feral cast to him; while Urs big jawed, gentle, square face reflected the giant bloodline that had given him such a massive body.

"No there's no one there, the rooms are all empty, tho' some show signs that they where occupied. Did he sleep here all the time?" Watt nodded.

"He's the doorman an' bouncer Garn gives him free board for it." An idea suddenly came to Watt, and he sat bolt up straight in the creaking old chair. The wet sensation in his groin was already growing cold and uncomfortable, the drying cum gluing his loins to his under garments, and he did his best to ignore it. "That would explain the missing stuff then, and if all the rooms are empty then Var has gone too. Var had a new friend who topped Barock, quite masterfully by all accounts! If they left an' Barock went with them, then they musta took the supplies!" He smiled to himself pleased he'd solved that mystery, but half wishing he'd got to go with them. "Off on some wild adventure I bet!"

"Was much taken?" Lup asked him frowning slightly.

"Nah, some fresh meat, beer and trail stuff. I suspect they'll be some firelighters and that sorta stuff missing as well." Lup nodded, and pulled over a chair; he sat facing Watt. Urs remained standing but moved back to lean on the bar itself.

"We have been in the City for a while, but not in this quarter. We need to know anything you can tell us about this area, and how this place works." Watt looked at the big bulge which had formed in Lups groin; he tried to guess how big his package was but couldn't begin to picture it

"Errr... what sorta things exactly?" He asked after a pause.

"Well lets start at the top." Lup said with an easy grin. "Where is Garn?"

"Dead!" Watt said flatly. "Murdered by the Watch yesterday. Its wot sparked the riot last night" Lup nodded, keeping his face neutral, even though the fact there was a riot was news to him.

"So we'll need a barman as well!" He said to Urs who nodded.

"The Orcs where very upset aboot Garn dying." Watt said faking a hurt look. "This bar is a favourite wiz them, and he was popular." Lup raised a hairy eyebrow, and Watt blushed. "Well, he wos well known; and this place is well known amongst those who needs a Buck bar." Lup nodded and smiled a little.

"What other bars are there round here?" Urs said in his deep voice that cut straight to Watt's dick.

"Erm..... theres the Human buck bar over the alley, then there are places where you can get a woman or other pleasures all down da road. It leads inta da Warrens where you can finds anything you like!"

"Who owns the Human bar?" Lup said quickly.

"Ex-fighter called Jerled Aggotbeard, he's a Dwarf, but he's never there, too busy runnin' da fights down town. He leaves it ta Bennot ‘The Bull' ta run."

"Whats Bennot like?" Lup asked.

"Stupid. Can't run a piss up in his own bar! He spends all his time fucking the dwindling number of patrons, and lets the place rot. There's a barman called Lector who's probably mostly in charge."

"Ever use the place?" Lup asked.

"Hah!" Watt laughted bitterly. "Humans don't like my looks." Lup grinned wolfishly, but said nothing.

They questioned Watt all day about the people, and places of this district. Nominally part of the Adventures Quarter, it was clearly the gateway to the Warrens. Few Watch patrols went much further than the bar, and those few were rare indeed. Lup and Urs learnt much of their clients, and what sort of thing they liked. One-Eye liked it rough, but wanted to always be the top. Worc liked his lovers to be gentle, and would spend hours and hours in play and preparation, while Billson could get through many lovers in a night, his speed and stamina legendary amongst the bar's patrons. Gurom was the taverns most notorious bottom, giving it up to everything from huge Half Ogres to puny little Goblins! Only Watt had never tasted the pleasure of Gurom's body, tho' not from lack of tryin' - the fact was that when Gurom was in, the others kept him so busy Watt had never managed to get a chance! Watt told them almost everything he knew about the area; he found he could not stop talking. Urs kept bringing him beer, and Lup leaned in and listened to it all. His chair coming ever closer to Watt's, the musky smell of the Giantblood getting stronger as he moved closer and closer, until he found himself starring directly into Lup's eyes. Though still talking about the City, he never realised Lup was whispering something to him, something about sleeping.....

All though the conversation, Lup listened as the Half Orc put himself down again and again. Yes, the stories he told where ones of bad luck and misadventure, but a lot seemed to be motivation and a lack of responsibility. Watt was mentioning how ugly he was when Lup interrupted him.

"Not true" he said "I've seen worse. Stand up" Watt stood confused. Lup walked over and untied the apron he wore, lifting it over his balding head. He then unclipped the overalls and pushed them down Watt's thick body letting them drop to his feet. He smiled at the bulging, smelly, fresh stained undergarments then pushed them down too leaving Watt naked but for his boots and the pile of clothes round his ankles. Watt stood there feeling very vulnerable in his nude state. Lup walked round him touching him on the bicep, shoulder, butt, hip, and then rubbing a hand over the hairy gut, before cupping Watt's chin and staring into his eyes. Watt suddenly felt hot and horny, his cock sprung to life, his heart raced. Lup's voice changed, dropping lower, much lower, "Listen to my voice, listen to my words..........."

Urs watched his brother hypnotize the hapless cook. He'd seen Lup do this before, there was something certain types found mesmerizing in his voice, his movements, his sexy deep black eyes...Urs growled slightly just thinking about them. Lup liked to use his ability to help some people, and Watt seemed to fit the bill of those underdogs Lup liked to help rise above their own failings. Urs got up and walked into the kitchen. Turning sideways through the door, he inspected the beer and store rooms. He checked the cellars over. He poked around in the kitchen, grabbing some meat to snack on he came back to find Lup still had the Cook under.

"........you are not as ugly as you think. You reflect the best of your heritage.....you are strong......you will work with us to regain your muscle......your pride...." Urs tuned out again and was about to walk back upstairs when he spotted something. Watt was sitting more upright, noticeably more, his chest almost puffed with pride. The sleepy, dump expression had gone from his face, instead replaced by a set jaw and his small tusk pushed out, determined, confident. Urs shook his head and smiled to himself. Perhaps Watt might turn out not to be so useless as he first appeared.

Urs wandered back through the various rooms again, picking through the various debris the owners had left. In one room he found a great surprise- a slip of cloth bearing the symbol of their neighbouring Clan, the ones that had been massacred! What was that doing here? Urs started inspecting the room more thoroughly, but he found nothing else. He slowly picked his way over the other rooms again, gathering some clothes, odd bits of armour and in one a broadsword that had been pushed under a mattress, its scabbard worn, but the blade was clean and rust free. Urs took the pile downstairs in small batches observing the changes in Watt each time. Lup remained eye locked to him but the cook seemed almost a different person. He stood tall, confident, his balding hair swept back and tidy. Watt was flexing his muscles, adjusting his stance. As Urs deposited a pile on the bar Lup was purring.

"You are beyond your old life now, cast it aside, and move forward. You have the confidence the ability, the strength to move forward with us......." Urs watched amazed as Watt stepped out of the pile of clothes at his feet and kicked them aside, putting them aside as his ‘old life' as he had been instructed. Urs shook his head, either Lup had got better at this or Watt really was weak willed!

Lup knew Urs had left the room his brother had many talents but hypnosis was not one of them, it bored him. If he did not love him so much Lup had toyed with the idea of seeing if the old story about the Giantbloods being immune to hypnosis was true. Lup risked a glance around and leaning over and grabbed the pile of clothes from the bar. Perfect! Lup had Watt dress, and belt on the sword, all the time his convincing voice telling him he was strong and it was time to start a new life. Time to take risk and adventure, to move onwards and forwards!

The shadows where long on the floor as Lup brought Watt out of the trance, he worked slowly, careful to check the triggers to send the cook back into a deep trance where carefully in place. A more wilful character would have needed many, many sessions before they accepted the suggestions he had planted but Watt was the perfect subject, his will was so weak Lup had been able to jump in as if it was an old partnership. Watt murmured to himself as he was brought round. Lup had not made him into his willing slave or turned him into a sex toy, he had simply tweaked, making Watt more self assured, more able to stand up for himself, more proud of his body, appearance, and ready to take on new challenges, he'd promoted him to Head Barman ready to help Lup and Urs take over this district.

"Sorry, what where ya saying" Watt mumbled as he woke, not even realising he had shifted into a hand on sword belt stance of an old fighter adventurer

.

"You where just telling me about the Watchmen who raided the place." Lup said.

"Oh yes....."Watt rubbed his head slightly, the shadows where longer on the floor, it was evening already? He smiled at Lup then resumed his story of Capt Simmons raid.

***

Granpug peered out of the small doorway into the fighting pit, waiting on his opponent to come out of the opposite doorway. The big Orc always entered last, and to great fanfare, and why not? He was the Champion after all! He was loved by his many fans, hated by his rivals' fans, and feared by all the Pit fighters, yet respected by all. He was good...perhaps too good, the fight managers had not been making as much money lately, for it was widely known that no Pit Fighter in the city or all along the coast could match Granpug. Some had even talked of him being the last pit Champion as the gates numbers fell. The managers had even tired getting one of Ogres, or Giantbloods over from the Arena, but the Gladiator Managers would not hear of one of their precious Gladiators getting down and dirty with some real fighters! Granpug spat in disgust on the dirty straw covered floor as he thought about it. Arena fighting was all showing off for the crowd, and useless time wasting taunting and posturing. All play no fight! He knew he could take them all, even that pussy Champion ‘The Bear'. He spat again, it said something when they had to use stupid names; instead of their birth one! Be proud of who you are he always said!

In the end, the managers had sent for their own barbarian from the northern mountain tribes. He'd come to take back the title from ‘that filthy godless Orc'. Well that was the hype...the fact that Granpug bathed twice a day, or that he had worshiped many gods; mattered not at all. The facts had to be disposed of when they got in the way of the real show, of making the all mighty coin! Granpug spat in disgust once again. This early evening meeting was just the warm up, a meeting between the two fighters before tonight's main fight; a bit of growling, shoving and all that rot. Granpug hated that they where borrowing promotion ideas from the Arena, but it seemed to pull in the crowds; and of course their coin. At that moment his barbarian challenger stepped out of his own tiny doorway- they where made too small deliberately to make the massive fighters bend and unfold themselves before the roaring crowd above. The barbarian walked out slowly and into the centre of the pit. He stood looking up at the screaming, roaring crowd. He was clad in only a white bear hide loin cloth. He grinned wolfishly and worked the crowd- he pointed, leered, and threatened without saying a word.

The barbarian was magnificent, his golden hair and beard had been clipped close like Granpug's own so neither opponent would have an unfair advantage, but somehow it seemed like a mane on him. His pale white skin seemed to glow in the ruddy light of the pit, and Granpug could see the pale silvery hairs covering it that gave it that shimmering effect. Granpug looked the Human over thoughtfully, he was a truly magnificent looking specimen; looking at him he was not as big as the Giantbloods and Ogres, but still a considerable challenge. He was tall for a Human, but slightly shorter than Granpug, The Human was just as well muscled though, with thick heavy slabs of muscle but the Orc's shoulders were wider, his chest thicker, and would have the Orcish advantage of reach. Speed, Granpug decided would be the key factor here, the Human would be faster. As Granpug watched him preen, and prance for the crowd a line of drool momentarily escaped the big Orc's wide tusked mouth, this one was certainly beautiful! He should be fun to break!

"From the frozen wastes of the great northern mountains!" The announcer raved after a few moments. "The Hope of Human's every where! The Great White Bear of the north Arvak Magnusson!" A roar went up from the crowd as the barbarian's name was announced, the few scattered boo's marked the handful of Granpug's supporters that had made the journey in rainstorm that lashed the City tonight, neither rain or last nights riot had had little effect on the most loyal fans turning out to support their Champion! However there was after all only a hand full of wealthy Orcs plus a few die hard fans of the other races and their few voices were quickly drowned out by the roar; they could not compete with the much bigger Human mob who'd come in from the nearby docks.

With a click the second door to his pit level room opened behind him.

"Well? Whats the word?" Granpug demanded turning and smiling at his Dwarf fight manager wickedly. Jerled Aggotbeard looked over the massive Granpug for a few seconds, clad only in his leathers he was always such a sight! Shame they lived such different lives outside the Pit.

"They are quibbling about the amounts you'll get again."

"All right we'll amend. I'll lose to the boy out there, but I get 20% of the purse from the match."

"Hah... 10% is more than any fighter has ever gotten!" The Dwarf countered.

"I'm not any fighter!" Granpug growled darkly puffing up his massive chest. "I could tie the boi into a knot if I wanted...you know that!"

"All right, all right." The Dwarf grumbled "But I think 15% is as high as they'll go!"

"For 15% I don't lose...we could call it a draw." Granpug suggested with a grin.

"A draw!" The Dwarf exclaimed hotly. "We haven't had any draws in the pit!"

"Then word of so unprecedented an event will spread far and wide." Granpug pointed out.

"And that'll bring in bigger crowds!" The Dwarf admitted scratching his flowing beard thoughtfully.

"Plus I'll let the boi use my place to train in for the second match." Grandpug said coolly.

Jerled rubbed his beard for a while longer, before patting his solid belly "Which of course will be a draw again." He said with a wolfish smile "What about the third match?" he asked.

"That's planning a little far ahead...we haven't even decided the purse amounts for the second draw yet."

"Alright alright I get the point!" The Dwarf snarled back. "If this works as well as you think it will, I'll get you your 20% deal for the second fight!"

"If this work's as good as I think it will.....I get to show him who's the Master before the second fight." Granpug grinned wickedly, the thought of what he wanted to go running though his head.

"What?!?" Jerled grunted struggling to talk over the noise the crowd was making.

"Don't worry, I won't injure him...just humble him a bit. Show him who the Champion really is, so he won't get the wrong idea." Granpug grunted over the screams and stamping feet of the crowd.

"Alright. Alright. Just get out there the crowds growin' restless." The Dwarf yelled over the noise, making Granpug's wicked leering smile spread even wider. Granpug stepped out the tiny doorway into the pit. Boo's and jeer's filled the air, but were drowned out by applause cheers and catcalls. Even those who hated, or feared him clapped in respect for the Champion. Swaggering around the pit, long powerful arm's held high in triumph Granpug smiled wickedly at his opponent, and the screaming cheering throng.

"Hear that boy?" Granpug boasted. "That's for me."

"For now." The Human growled back.

Jerled activated the small device that cut the noise to the Pit at the doorway, the room suddenly seemed cold and dead without the noise of the mob, but Jerled knew how the posturing would go and he needed to catch up on some of his other annoying, but necessary paperwork. He stepped up to the small, paper covered desk. The advantage of being the Champion's Manager was the little things like this Pit side office/changing room. Jerled pushed all the paper together, and looked out into the Pit. Granpug was pushing the Human around, and any moment now the Human would attempt to head butt him.......there he goes....here comes some more posturing.....and now Granpug's famous loin cloth grab......surprise! The Human managed to dodge slightly, stopping Granpug pulling his Bear skin off....only managed to rip the arse side open.....nice muscled arse though... Jerled shook his head, and looked back down at the paperwork; he let out a long sigh as he attempted to read. A banging on the door stopped him.

"Come in!" He shouted in annoyance. The door opened, and a Half Orc walked in, a slight smile on his blunt face, and his chest puffed out in a confident stance. He wore leather traveling clothes that had seen better days, but his stride and stance told he knew how to use the broadsword hanging at his hip. Jerled appraised the tall, muscular Half Orc. If not for the massive gut he might have been a pit fighter, lose a little of the flab, turn it into a solid torso, give him a proper beard, hum.....

"Can I help you?" Jerled rumbled. The Half Orc placed himself in front of the desk, totally ignoring the two fighters outside.

"You Jerled?" The Dwarf nodded "Then yes you can" he rumbled in a deep positive voice. "My name is Watt. I want to talk to you about the bar you own."

"Oh... which one?" Jerled asked, locking his thick stubby fingers into a steeple in front of him.

"The Crazy Ass down on Sunrise Ave." Jerled looked confused for a moment, and then remembering thought to himself ‘Oh that place'" He kept the look of disgust off his broad bearded face.

"What about it?" he said to the Half Orc who was looked out at where the two fighters where engaged in some friendly banter with some benches. Watt watched enthralled for a moment. His worn leather trousers struggling to contain his cock, as it rose stiffly at the sight.

"I represent a small group who'd like to take the place off you." He said turning back to the Dwarf. Jerled smirked, spotted the half-erect member immediately; he always knew when an audience was excited. He also knew the Crazy Ass was a run down dump, he'd never spent a penny on it, heck, he'd only ever having visited the nauseating place once. He frequented better quality bars, and he certainly had no use for its perverse services! He named a ridiculously inflated price.

"No." The Half Orc said strongly and countered with a price ¾ of what the Dwarf had said. Jerled smiled, and settled in for a long entertaining haggle.

Tales from the Dark City-

Chapter 2 â€" Night and Dawn

Guests: Simmons, Ooluk, Watt, Lilith, Omoc, Stephan

It was raining a soft silvery drizzle that sifted endlessly down out of the night sky and wreathed around the blocky squat Watchtowers. The rain made the flickering torches hiss and sputter, and it made the stones of the road shiny and black. A lone rider traveled the dark and silent city streets; he was wrapped in the heavy blue woolen cloak of a Watch Captain. He was a large man, all heavy bone and thick ropy muscle rather than soft fat flesh. His light brown hair slowly flattening and darkening as the bitterly cold rain wet it down. The Human rode easily, but with that peculiar alertness of a trained warrior. His name was Burl Simmons, and he was the Watch Captain for this part of the Adventures Quarter. He was a young man to have such and exalted post, who carried the erosion of his years not so much on his handsome youthful face, but in the wide red and purple scars, that littered his rangy hard muscled frame; which always ached in cold damp weather. Tonight, only one night after the riot he was feeling his age. He longed to be in his warm bed, with his even warmer wife Alessa, but the Watch Commander had wanted all his Watch, including the Captains out tonight to make the point that they where firmly in control. Simmons could understand, he was being to see the enjoyment being in Command could bring......his thoughts trailed back, again, to that alleyway......

The big gray horse upon which he was riding paused a second to shudder, shaking the cold rain out of his sleek matted coat. Damn it was late...or early depending on how one looked at things. Even the all night Orc bars had turned out most of their customers. Stopped from visiting his nice warm bed, Simmons found himself thinking of the inconveniences of duty. The street lamps at the intersection flickered and sputtered fitfully, as the cold rain and sharply blowing wind assaulted them. A sickly looking young hustler stood hopefully under the dying light post; short and thin, he stood shivering in an old cloak soaked through by the freezing rain.

"Lookin' for a good time sir?" He squeaked up at Simmons, his eyes wide and timid; his pale face gaunt and hungry. Stopping, Simmons bent in his saddle; and then poured a few small coins into the youth's trembling hands.

"Go home!" He ordered firmly. "It's cold and wet, and there'll be no fun times this night." Then he straightened and rode on, leaving the young pleasure boi to stare in grateful astonishment after him. Simmons turned down a narrow side street, clotted with shadows and rotting garbage. Ahead of him, he could see the light of many hurricane Watch lanterns clustered around the mouth of an alleyway. As he rode up closer two Watchmen stepped out to stop him, then seeing his cloak and uniform hastily let him pass. Climbing down from his horse Watch Captain Simmons moved into the circle of lantern light.

"Who's ranking officer here?" He inquired peering around.

"Aye that'd be me Sir." A grizzled old Watch Sergeant Simmons knew at once stepped out of a crowd of Watchmen.

"Hello Arlen." Simmons said familiarly, giving the bearded, man-mountain a slight smile.

"Eve' Burl. Sorry tha be draggin' ya down ta the Warrens edge on such a night...but ya did leave standin' orders ta call as soon as tha fiend stuck again; and since its ya investigation and all." Simmons nodded, and then gestured to the covered form lying on the wet paving stones not far away.

"That's his work then?" He inquired, starring at the covered form laying on the cold rain slick cobble stones. It was a sight that had become all too familiar to him in the last few hours.

"Aye Sir... and as nasty a piece o work as I've ever seen!" The old Sergeant answered disgustedly. "I've been on tha job twenty nine years, thought I'd seen tha worse...til now! Whatever done this aint Human!" The old Watchman shook his grizzled head "Not Human at all." He muttered.

"Orc most likely." A young Watchman near by chimed in.

"Shut yer ignorant pie hole Rolands." The Sergeant snarled crossly. "Orc's is tha fiend's victim's... E aint killed anything but Orcs. Three dead tonight alone! Gods know it'd be easy enough for him to go after anyones else. If killin' these big boiz is so easy fer'em, but no E goes after big game."

"I..I wuz jest...." The young Watchman stuttered.

"I know whatcha wuz jest doin'." The old Sergeant snarled. Simmons ignored the pair and walked over to have a look at the covered bodies.

"Damn! Two of them at once!" He exclaimed as he peered under the wet cloth covering the two dismembered bodies. Suddenly his face paled, and he dropped to one knee beside the bodies. Starring intensely at one blood splattered green face. He could be wrong......but.......

"Aye." Arlan answered leaving the young Watchman, he walked over beside the kneeling Captain. "Looks like they's where enjoying each other... if ya know what I mean, when tha fiend caught 'em." Dropping the cloth Simmons glanced up with a sickened look. "Ya all right Burl?" The old Watch Sergeant asked, as he saw his friends pale face and sickened eyes.

"I... Ahem.... knew one of the victims." Simmon's admitted softly, his mind going back to the night of the riot. To a darkened alleyway not very far from the one he was now in. He hoped he was mistaken though feared that he was not. "Where are they're....errr where is the rest of the bodies?" The Watch Captain asked uncomfortably.

"Not here... I guess the fiend took them parts with 'em." The old Watchman speculated. Simmons pressed the hills of his hands against his eyes, rubbing them powerfully.

"Bet ‘e ate ‘em!" One of the younger Watchmen said, earning a sharp look from Simmons and the old Sergeant.

"Tell me you have some good news Arlen." Simmons begged softly.

"Well we do have a witness.........." The old Sergeant admitted haltingly.

"Where? I want to speak with them." Simmons grunted, standing up and glancing around sharply.

"Ahhhhh theres tha rub sir." Arlan admitted softly going back to his formal tone. "Tha witness got scared, done a runner fer we could get much out o her."

"But you got her name?!?" Simmons demanded.

"Aye. Wyldra Took... she's a Halfer rent girl, works out of that Elf tavern called Tha Sylvan Glade over on Velmar's Walk."

"We're going to have to look Miss Took up then." Simmons growled, as he took one more look at the damp covering; and hoped he was wrong about that face.

"Would you like me or some of the lads to accompany you Sir?" The old Sergeant inquired.

"No that's alright Arlen... I think I can handle one Halfer" Simmons said grinning wryly. "Get these lads back to patrolling. In pairs... he's still out there somewhere." Simmons growled looking around uneasily. "Oh and general order is no-one is to talk about these killings. We don't want a panic."

"Aye Sir. Tha gut wagon's already on the way... we'll be cleaned up here in and hour or so."

"Very well I'm going to look up Miss Took... and get her story."

***

It was dark and late as Watt strode through the streets heading for the Hind. Lup and Urs wanted him to report as soon as the deal had been done. The Dwarf had been a tough negotiator. He had insisted on ‘extras' to go with the money.....well the dinner and beer for Jerled and Granpug had been expensive but a price worth paying. The insistence that he help Granpug with his post match ‘warm down' however had been painful.....Watt's butt still hurt from the size of the Orc Champion.....though his cock throbbed half hard with the memory of the pleasure too. He'd never realised the fun that could be had in an oversized bath tub.....

Absorbed in his thoughts Watt turned a corner into an alley without watching his step and ran right into a wall. He stood back stunned and realised it was a person. His hand went to his sword as he backed away. The man turned and Watt realised it was a Half Orc, only this one was much bigger than him, if shorter; his muscles bulged, the jerkin he was wearing almost too small for him. He wore the traditional Orc kilt, but as he turned Watt could see the massive thick dribbling erection poking from under it's front. Watt quickly realized there was another person in there too, a stocky black haired Human Watt saw. He had been laid up on a barrel top, while Ooluk had been molesting him. But now without the Half-Orc holding him was struggling to get his balance and get back on his feet. One glance at the look on the human's shocked and frightened face, told Watt he hadn't been a will participant! The human's wild frightened eye's looked pleadingly to him for help. Watt shrugged his shoulder and gave the abused human 'a nothing I can do' look.

"You interrupted me." The big Orc said, his massive cock thrust towards Watt like some sort of weapon. Watt suddenly realised he knew that voice; it was Ooluk ‘The Ravisher', notorious for his ways with his conquests.

"Urm....sorry" Watt said, his hand never leaving the hilt of his weapon.

"You will be!" Ooluk roared and jumped for Watt. Watt ducked and twisted back from the lunging Half Orc. He dodged the out stretched arms and ran past the conquest and down the alley as if a demon was after him. Ooluk shouted something at his half ravished victim then gave chase, his Orcish blood boiling.

Watt turned over a half full barrel of water, then a pile of fruit crates as he charged down the alley, behind him he could hear Ooluk cursing and crashing through the objects. Despite the size of the cock Ooluk was sporting Watt had no intension of being beaten up and fucked tonight. Not when he felt everything was on the up swing for him! Especially as he carried the deeds to the Crazy Ass in his belt pouch! Watt took the most direct route to the Hind, trampling through peoples vegetable patches, or over their flower beds. He ran and ran, all the time he could hear the beast behind him.

Watt somehow he made it to the Hind's door without Ooluk catching him. He paused by the door and risked a look over his shoulder. On the other side of the street Ooluk had been stopped by a troop of Watchmen. He was pointing angrily towards the Pieced Hind, but the Watchmen where not listening, Watt could see one checking Ooluk for weapons. That must have been enough for the Half-Orc, he nutted one Watchman with his big knee, and punched another. Watt thought briefly about helping, but it was quickly turning into a one sided fight as even the massive Ooluk fell under the clubs and swords of the Watch. Watt shook his head at the painful treatment and let himself in.

***

As the rising sun's garish light filled the wet dark streets, with its warm honey coloured glow Simmons winced at its brightness. It had been a long, long night for the Watch Captain, and it promised to be a long day at well. Turning his plodding gray gelding onto Velmar's Walk, he rode past the old shops and town houses. It had taken some time to get over here, various patrols had stopped him and he'd reported the latest murders to his Watchtower. Apart form the victims all being Orcs there was no pattern to the killing. He hoped Miss Took could provide some answers. The Sylvan Glade was on the corner, were Herders path crossed over Velmar's Walk on it's way to the docks, right on the edge of the Adventurers Quarter, and some way out of the Warrens. Tying his reins to the wet light post on the corner, Simmons tried the pub's double doors, not surprisingly they were locked, but through the delicate cut glass he saw movement.

"Hey! Open up!" he shouted "Open up in the name of the Watch!" He banged on the wooden door frame. The figure inside walked over to the ornate double doors and hastily unbolted them yanking them open. A tall haggard Elven male stood in the opened doorway glaring at the Watch Captain.

"I have all my permitsss up to date...and I've already pay my bribe thisss week!" He lisped in an aggressive but feminine manner. Simmons frowned at this treatment, but decided to it sweet talk him hoping to avoid trouble. Stepping forwards, he laid a friendly hand on the Elf's shoulder.

"It's not like that friend." he said looking into the Elf's deep blue eyes. The Elf's lean angular face broke into a wide, gratified, but tired grin.

"Oho honey... if I weren't ssso exhaussssted." The Elf complained melodramatically. "Still I do love a man in uniform... and I've always wanted to try a Watchman."

"And if I weren't on duty... you'd have your chance." Simmons countered, surprised at how much regret he heard in his own voice. The Elf's eyes narrowed, a look of suspicion returning to his handsome face.

"Sssso what iss it you do want offisser?" He asked less friendly.

"I'm looking for one of your regulars." Simmons explained.

"Oh? Well asss you can sssee... theresss no one here but me." The handsome Elf said coldly.

"Yes... and if I didn't have business..." He let his eye's rove over the tall Elf's lean body, lingering on the growing bulge in his tight trousers "However I need to find a Halfer girl, street name of Wyldra Took." Simmons insisted.

"What do you want with that little rent bitch?" The Elf asked frowning, and stepping closer, his handsome face only inches from Simmons own, he stared deep into the Watchman's eyes.

"Strictly business... she witnessed something earlier tonight that I need to talk to her about." Simmons explained, his big gloved hand reaching out to fondle the Elf's growing bulge, making the Elf's smile return, even wider this time; as he pushed his hips forward.

"Ssshe'sss got a basssement whorin' crib up on Herdersss... twelve doorsss up on your right." The Elf muttered, his eye's half closed in pleasure; as he humped against Simmons fondling hand.

"My thanks." Simmons said turning slowly to go.

"Ahem...you know, I'm really not that exhausssted." The Elf called. Turning back Simmons gave him a friendly smile.

"Yes...but I'm still on duty." The Watch Captain explained regretfully. "Another time perhaps?"

"Honey... your welcomed anytime!" The Elf answered, giving Simmons a leering smile; as he walked away. "My place is jussst up ssstairsss, I work nightsss ssso anytime in the day you wanta stop by..."

"I'll keep that in mind." Simmons called back, once again surprised by the tone of his own voice.

As he moved up the narrow twisting lane of Herders Path, the cold rain turned into hard pelting balls of sleet, forcing the Watch Captain to pull the wet hood of his cloak up over his cold wet head. Moving quickly Simmons found the Halfers shabby crib. He tied his horse up and descended the age worn stone steps. Kicking aside the garbage that littered them he almost slipped on the mold and rot. The thin rickety old wooden door had no lock, as was common for whore's cribs. Pushing the wobbly old door open, he stepped in out of the storm. Like most harlots dens it was very small, dirty and under furnished, though the ceiling was Human height at least. The single room contained only a bed, and a small bureau surmounted by an old cracked mirror. The room was lit only by a dinky fire place, set into the far wall which gave little light and less heat. The room was so dark Simmons had to squint to see anything at all, however after his eyes adjusted he could see the small woman he sort. Like other Halfer women Miss Took wore her hair long, and her dresses cut low, at just over half the height of a Human man it certainly made for a cleavage of distraction. She was sitting at the head of the big bed, her back propped against the wooden head board. Miss Took was using a short charcoal stick to write, or draw on and old ragged piece of parchment.

"I aint takin' on no riders right now." She snapped sounding cross and slightly drunken. "So sod off!"

"I'm not a customer." Simmons answered, stepping into the weak flickering firelight.

"Oh donkey farts!" The Halfer exclaimed sourly, as she looked up and saw his Watchman's cloak. "Wantin' yourself a freebie huh... we lets get it over with then!" She spat, and jumped out of the bed, throwing her paper aside. She grabbed her hem and started to lift her thin dress up over her shaggy head but Simmons reached out and grabbed her arm.

"No" He said. "I am here about what you saw tonight." The woman stopped what she was doing and stared at him, horror in her eyes. She jumped back on the bed and pulled the thin blanket up around her.

"No you don't" she said eventually, her voice quiet, all traces of drink gone.

"Yes I do" Simmons said, sitting down on the dirty floor so their eye level was the same. A bit of cleaning up and Miss Took would be quite pretty he decided.

"It was the most horrible thing I've seen since my caravan left me in this piss hole of a city" she said still quiet, not looking at Simmons.

"Look, I need to know. We need to know what we are dealing with." The Halfers head snapped round at him.

"You have no idea!" she cried "it's not Human, it's not Orc! It's a demon!" She grabbed her drawing board and turned the picture round to face Simmons. "See!" she cried. The Watch Captain actually paled.

"By the Gods!" he exclaimed........

***

As the flaming orb arose in the sky, like the glittering eye ball of some vengeful god bathing the awakening city in its glaring brilliants, two beings scorned its bright glow. In the high vaults of her soaring tower Lilith, shuttered her narrow windows tightly against it suns blazing invasion. The sight of the golden blazing brilliance sickened the powerful Necromancer, making her wish all the more, to seek the cold dark comfort of her crypt like bed chamber. However something new and delightfully evil moved about her city and it was only her own curiosity as to what it might be that kept her from repose. She moved across her darkened casting chamber, to the bleached white skull set upon a high pedestal. She caressed the cold white bone with a single pale hand, a slight smile on her lips. Worn smooth as glass by years of such caresses, the grinning skull vibrated under her palm. Softly she chanted the dark and powerful magic, summoning the flickering shade to whom the skull had once long ago belonged.

"Greetings Elron." The dark mage purred softly, as the seer's ghost silently formed before her.

"Lilith." The ghost moaned disdainfully. The Seer had died in the battle to destroy the Necromancer's Master the Lichlord Kylguz. Like all of those who had been in that band the Seer had paid a hideous price for their victory- even in death he'd not been able to escape Lilith's cruelty, vengeance and dark powers. Still the Seer reflected, he'd fared better than those she'd captured alive; Alavgar the paladin had been mutilated, defiled and trapped within his own rotting zombified corpse which Lilith had taken and used as a lover, for as long as the rotting worm riddled flesh had held out. "What is it you want of me?" The tortured soul demanded mournfully.

"What I always want seer... scrying." Lilith snapped coldly. "There is a new and powerful evil afoot within this city. Show it to me." She demanded eagerly, for the first time showing any emotion. Holding up the bleached skull she starred deep into its empty dark eye sockets, even as the shade hovering above her called upon his divination magic. Elron had resisted the Necromancer's demands at first, but there are ways to torture even the dead and Lilith knew them all. Still the seer had small ways of resisting her, telling only half truths- showing only the images he choose- like now......from within the black sockets an image slowly formed before her eyes, two burly figures stumbling along some dark alleyway. The pair had obviously had too much drink, one a burly Orc was still clutching an empty spirits bottle in one massive paw and supporting the other figure, a big black haired Human, obviously of barbarian heritage.

Duja brought the grog bottle to his thick lips, pouring the last dregs of the fiery liquid into his mouth. Then he tossed the empty bottle aside, pulling Lunn's mouth to his own. Duja shared a deep passionate kiss, as well as the last mouthful of grog with his dearest friend. Too drunk to resist or even realize he normally would have resisted, Lunn returned the open mouthed kiss. Duja broke the kiss as Lunn's head flopped back on his shoulders, grinning he licked up the grog that was running from the corners of Lunn's mouth. He loved Lunn's mouth Duja decided, soft pink and tuskless, but then... Duja reflected he really loved the Human's whole body. It's smell was strange but not unpleasant, but it was the smooth pale flesh that intrigued the Orc, well that and the Human's firm muscular virgin rump, it was big, round, pink and perfect Duja decided. Just thinking about it made the Orc's already semi hard organ bounce up stiffly under his kilt. Spotting a low porch with a short set of steps leading up to it Duja laid Lunn's limp body on it, pleased to see that it put the Human at almost the perfect height. He'd been planning to wait until he'd gotten Lunn back to his small basement abode, but thinking about the Human's tiny pink plucker was just too much for him. Unlacing Lunn's work boots he set them aside, and then skinned off the Human's baggy woolen trousers. Duja rubbing his rough hands up and down the Humans thick hairy muscular legs. Grunting in delight, he slid his big clawed hand's up to cup and squeeze the big round muscular globes of his friend's buttock's. Lunn moaned softly, his thick powerful arm's moving uselessly on the rough wood of the porch. Stepping back Duja unbuckled his wide belt laying it aside; he pushed his kilt down exposing his thick organ. He licked his thick green lips, a dribble of drool trickling from the corner of his wide tusked mouth. 'This is goina be soooo good.' He thought, as he stepped forwards. Getting ready to enjoy for the first time something he knew he'd be enjoying again and again all night and he hoped many times in the future......... suddenly from over his shoulder Duja heard a deep growl. He looked around over his shoulder and saw found a horrible and monstrous visage peered malevolently at him from the darkness, instantly he spun fists up ready to defend himself and his defenceless friend. The thing moved and a bloody and battered sword blade whistled as it cleaved through the air. Duja saw the clotted black blood cover the swords battered surface, as he dodged back and it missed. With a roar Duja leaped at his attacker. The blade swept back and smashed down, cutting deep into Duja's shoulder- it rung as it struck the Orc's heavy collar bone and the battered blade snapped. Carried by his leap Duja collided with his attacker, and the two fell to the ground.

Lilith watched as the demonic appearing creature rolled in mortal combat with the big green skinned Orc. They ripped at each other; stripping each other of their few dirty clothes and much of their flesh. Lilith studied the creature as it slowly over-powered the Orc, twisting its glittering greenish-red tinted clawed fingers into the Orc's throat. The creature had thick heavy boned brows, with small beady black eyes underneath. There were no pupils or whites showing within those dark beady hate filled eyes. Thick sharp white tusks pushed out of the side of its wide lipped mouth, and wide black spiralled horns curved back out of its heavy forehead. As she watched she saw the light go out of the Orc's glowing eyes, watching as the crazed creature ripped and tore at Duja's bleeding corpse. Ripping and biting bits and pieces from the Orc, the monster devoured the raw flesh, a wild demonic look of pleasure on the creature's twisted devil face as it ripped out the Orcs heart. Lilith shifted her view to better study the creature's powerful masculine body. Massive, thick and well defined slabs muscle covered the creature's huge naked torso. As the monster chewed, and savoured the raw bits of Orc flesh its body changed, bony lumps bulging along his knobbly spine and the lump at the base of its spine sprouted into a long powerful tail that formed into a three foot long curling and twitching mass of hard bone and powerful muscle. Throwing his head back the monster released an odd sounding cry, half of pleasure, half of pain at its transformation. Then it returned to its gruesome feast, Lilith shifted her view again and noted the size of the monsters erect manhood.

"Ohohoooo I want him!" Lilith breathed, as she watched him hunch over his victim. The huge, masculine, blood covered creature turned from his feast suddenly. Beady black eye's squinting at the approaching sunlight, hurriedly the creature bound to its black sharp hoof-feet, fleeing the golden light that was slowly creeping down the dark alleyway then the image faded to blackness. Looking up angrily

"I want more!" She demanded!

"No more.....no more" the Seer lied and Lilith watched the Seer's shade vanish back into the land of the dead.

"Damn!" She swore knowing she'd used up the seer for the time being. Still she had other magic's, but that could wait until after her repose. Today she was going to dream of that muscular body, and having that tail wrapped round her........

***

The Orc's that where its chosen prey named it 'Omoc' meaning ‘the demon' or ‘the devourer', but now the monster ran whimpering like a child before an angry parent as the sun's blazing light hunted it from street to street. Racing through the lightening alleyways 'Omoc' screamed in frustration as the golden light followed him everywhere. At last behind the partly disused cathedral of St Bartholomew, he found a partly broken door and behind it a dusty stone stairway. The air smelt of cool stone and musty darkness; 'Omoc' had found the dark home he craved. The corroded bronze door proved no barrier and he smashed his way into the tomb. Lifting its heavy horned head 'Omoc' inhaled the damp musty air; the smell of old mouldering death and decay greatly pleased the fiend.

The monster had once been Stephan Wuir, a respected city Watchman, and now satisfied with his meal, satisfied with his actions against the hated, hideous enemy, satisfied with the cool darkness he found himself in the Rage and the Beast settled, retreated, allowed the small still Human part of the monsters mind to surface and take control. He inspected the changes to his body, swished the mighty tail behind himself. He no longer cried about, or cared about the changes happening to him, if he did and anger rose and the Beast awoke and he lost control. He looked around, his Beast eyes capable of seeing as if it was daylight here; that's why the sun hurt the Beast the most, its eyes could not take its golden light.

Stephan realized that he was in the entrance to the vast catacombs that lay beneath the city. The Watchman had been within them before, investigating the robbery and desecration of Warriors tombs. The Watch had sealed most of the entrances after a particularly nasty spate of robberies. Those left, were still theoretically tended by families had been barred with locked bronze doors. Still somehow surprised, he marvelled by his body's strength, the broken door behind him had taken two strong men to lift into place. As he did the light began filtering down the stairway, and into the room that served as a lobby. Stephan felt the Beast begin to wake and quickly retreated deeper into dark hallways of the dead, feeling more and more at home in the cool, musty dankness. His glittering red eyes saw through the deep darkness of the cold burial tunnels. He wandered aimlessly through the spider web covered, dusty, ancient stone tunnels. He ignoring the various inscriptions and tombs build into the side walls and just walked until he came upon a huge finely furnished cavern.

Carved from the natural stone, the room had been made to resemble a cathedral chapter house, the octagonal walls even decorated with blank false windows. Under the central point was a carefully sculpted sarcophagus and Stephan wandered up to it. There was a beautiful carving of a Human Knight lying in state, his eyes closed, and his helmet off to one side. Stephan marvelled at the detailing, he reached out a clawed hand to touch the face; it reminded him of his loss. As he touched it pain seared up his scaly arm and the Beast was out. With one powerful paw 'Omoc' shoved the sarcophagus lid from atop the tomb. It fell to the floor with a resounding crash, the fragile sculpted stone sculpture shattering. Open the tomb revealed the desiccated armoured corpse within. Squatting beside the body 'Omoc' examined it curiously; the rusty mail armour fell apart in the fiend's huge clawed hands, and the flesh was too dry too eat. 'Omoc' was about to lose interest when a glitter caught his eye, in the corpse's shrivelled hands was clutched a weapon that seemed to glitter even within the darkness of the tomb. The great two handed war flail intrigued the fiend, and reaching down he pulled it from the corpses clutching grasp. Holding the long ball and chain up he looked at it curiously; suddenly a crackling blue light flared in the weapon and burnt his hand. Bellowing in pain and rage 'Omoc' cast the weapon far away from him. Licking at the smoking palm of his wounded hand, the fiend stalked around the chamber angrily until the pain subsided.

Anger still tore at him, but 'Omoc' decided that this once place would be his lair. He picked up a piece of the shattered sarcophagus looking at the beautifully sculpted virtuous and handsomely moustached face; 'Omoc' scowled, and cast the piece far from him. Growling ‘Omoc' threw himself into the stone coffin, crushing and grinding the bones and armour to make a more comfortable bed. Far across the vaulted chamber laying against the damp moss covered wall, the mighty weapons magic went silent once more.

***

"All right. What seems to be the problem Sergeant?" Simmons asked, as he climbed down off his mount. He was tried not having rested all night, but the messenger had said this was ‘urgent'. Silently the old Sergeant handed him the battered and broken sword. The weapon was covered, caked actually in dark dried blood. "Standard issue" Simmons muttered turning the broken weapon over and over in his hand's studying it carefully.

"Aye sir Watch issue." Sergeant Olyan agreed. "I checked the number on the cross guard sir."

"And?" Simmons demanded.

"It was issued to a Watchman from our post." Sergeant Olyan admitted twirling his thick mustache nervously. Waiting a moment Simmons gestured for the Sergeant to go on.

"A friend of yours sir. It was Stephan Wuir's sir. He disappeared in the riots."

"Yes I know him Sergeant." Simmons said quickly. "I am aware of his disappearance."

"We also found this." The Sergeant went on handing Simmons a shredded rag that had once been a Watchman's cloak. The tarnished blood caked clasp bent open from great strain. The ragged cloak it's self was so soaked in blood that it was stiff to the touch.

"Have you found his body?" Simmons asked quietly.

"No sir... only the dead Orc and a drunken barbarian Lunn."

"Dead Orc?" Simmons asked shapely.

"Aye sir... most horrifyingly thing I've ever seen." The old Sergeant admitted trembling slightly.

"Show me the body." Simmons ordered. Walking over Sergeant Olyan uncovered the massive green corpse. Simmons eyes again widened in shock, and disgusted revulsion, it was so much worse in the daylight, but it was a sight, he'd seen very often now; since the night of the riot, the body was ripped apart the same way.

"Whatever killed it was making a meal of it's......."

"Obviously Sergeant." Simmons said as the Sergeant re-covered the Orc's mutilated corpse.

"So the fiend's struck again... that makes four!" Simmons muttered under his breath.

"Sir?" The old sergeant inqiured looking confused.

"Something is killing Orc's Sergeant, most of the killings at night." Explained Simmons.

"Oh ya I heard aboot that." Sergeant Olyan admitted in sudden understanding. "We'd figured this one was done jest af'ta dawn and therefore not that thing."

"What more do you have to tell me Sergeant?" Simmons asked recovering his self control.

"Not much sir." Sergeant Olyan admitted watching his Captain's darkened face carefully. "We tracked the blood drops for a few streets, but lost the trail when they stopped."

"Could you get any idea where he....errrr this thing might have been headed?" Simmons asked grimly.

"No sir. From what I could see it appeared to be moving at random."

"Anyone see anything?" Simmons inqiured.

"If'n they did...they aint sayin' nothin'." Sergeant Olyan answered. "Course you know how these bloody Orc's are...they aint fer helpin' the Watch. I figure this is an internal...Orc's killin' Orc's... they'll solve the problem themself's before long."

"That's not the way it's meant to work Sergeant!" Simmons snapped sharply. "We are here to protect these ‘bloody Orc's'. As much as we're here to protect anyone else... remember that. Now I will expect you to treat this murder with all the respect and seriousness you would any other. Understood?"

"Aye sir." The old Sergeant growled, twisting one tip of his bushy graying mustache. As Simmons turned to order the other men around, he failed to see the look the Sergeant gave him ‘protect the Orcs indeed!' the Sergeant thought ‘never!'

Tales from the Dark City

Chapter 3 Promotion and Humiliation

Featuring: Lord Throp, Simmons, Worc, Jon,

Lord Thorp De Cameron, Warden of the Eastern Marshes, Governor General and Chief Justicar of the sea port city of Jurgensford, Proconsul in the High King's Court, stifled a yawn and adjusted his position upon his ornately craved and decorated seat. He was ‘listening‘ to the head of the Adventurers Quarter Merchants Guild speak about last weeks riot. Lord Thorp was not really paying much attention to the speaker as he was watching the Watch Commanders, their Watch Captains and a selection of Sergeants who were involved with handling the riot. It was really only Commanders Kingsbury, Jorgensen and Lake that were involved as it had been their patches - the Adventurers, Merchants, and Port districts that had been affected. Lord Thorp had listened as the various community and Guild leaders from all three districts stood one after the other and spoke their piece. Lord Throp had noted that the white haired Commander Kingsbury had dozed off less than halfway through.

Each of the community leaders spoke to the obedience and loyalty of their people, each placing the blame for the riot squarely on one of the other districts, as to be expected. Lord Thorp noticed the only thing they agreed on was the competence and leadership of one Watch Captain Simmons. As he listened to leader after leader mention Simmons, Lord Thorp got the impression that this Simmons had been everywhere. Inducting the leaders of each district, each guild and racial community into his quest to quell the riot- in the end it had been this grouping of Leaders who had done so, even though there had been a shocking amount of blood shed. Thankfully it also emerged that none of the communities bore the Watch any greater ill will than they had before the fighting. A slightly shock turn of events that pleased the Governor General greatly, the last thing he wanted was revolt or resentment in his city.

Watching his Commanders Lord Thorp had picked out Simmons easily. He stood at attention behind his sleeping Commander's right shoulder, his handsome face a smiling and confident mask. Lord Thorp had no doubt that was enjoying the attention each time his name was mentioned. It was obvious he was an intelligent man although until the riot he had never stood out. Lord Thorp considered himself a strong believer in the nobility of talent and leadership, and liked to promote those who had earned it. As he listened to the reports of deaths, injuries and lists of damage and costs, Lord Thorp reflected on his old friend Kingbury, and the confident young man standing next to him. Each district had a number of Watch posts each commanded by a Watch Captain, each Captain answering to his District Commander. Each Commander had won his office by strength of deeds, and Simmons deeds it seems had been great. Lord Thorp pondered the future.

Standing behind his Captain's left shoulder, well back among the thong of Watch Sergeants Jon listened dutifully to the speakers, his chest swelling in pride as praise was heaped upon his Captain, but his eyes were locked upon the tall green Half Orc in rich black and gold merchant's robes who stood opposite him. Worc's lean face wore a smug but faint smile as he returned the Human's stare. Playfully he let his dark purplish tongue slip out to lick his dark lips, watching as the Human's body stiffened at the sight. Silently Jon begged the Gods to let him escape the lean young Half Orc's stare, but his eyes seemed captured. A wide smile split Worc's lean face, exposing his smaller tusks, he blew a kiss at Jon, who shuddered but found he still could not look away.

The main Guild Masters where done speaking and Anden, the Justicar's Adie opened the floor for questions. Lord Andulus, a large, fat, and very well known (and very pompous) Merchants Guildmaster from the Riverside district started speaking. Very little damage had been done in the Riverside, all of two houses attacked, however Andulus was making out like his district had borne the brunt. Clearing his throat, Lord Thorp cut off the yammering of the pompous Merchant Guildmaster.

"The city will pay to repair all damages done in the riots, as well as burying those who's families can not afford to have it properly done." This simple statement quietened the whining merchant, but lit a fire in the many Merchants eyes. "The watch has already done a tally of damages." Lord Thorp warned coldly.

"What if they missed something?" The Chief Candlemaker complained.

"Aye I'm still findin' things broken" rumbled Hursk of the Blacksmithing Guild.

"And I have not as yet been able to return to my tavern" shouted someone Lord Thorp did not recognise. Others started to complain so he raised his voice slightly. "If anyone has further damages to report- damages not on the Watch's lists then the Watch will happily investigate any and all claims. Anyone attempting to profit by filing false claims however will be publicly flogged and banned from the city." Though a good man, Lord Thorp never the less knew that men sometimes needed to be ruled with an iron grip.

"I hardly think anyone of my community would conceive such a thing." Guildmaster Hursk said loudly. The Guild leaders quickly joined in until the Justicar's Aide banged the hammer for silence.

"I did not think anyone would." The Governor General said into the silence "However there are certain unsavoury types, within certain districts that might conceive such a thing." This last statement drew a chorus of chuckles from many non-merchants in the assembly. "Now if this matter is settled to everyone's satisfaction, I have other matters to which I must attend." They all looked around, but it seemed that the matter had indeed been settled.

As the room emptied, Lord Thorp gestured for the freshly awakened Commander Kingsbury and his Captains to remain. Jon moved out of the Council Chambers with the other Sergeants. In the crowded Outer Chambers, he at last lost sight of Worc. Like some great deluge his senses came flooding back to him. 'Gods what am I doing?' Jon wondered as he realized that he'd been searching for the Half Orc. Disgust filled him then...disgust not at Worc but at his own strange new fascination with the creature. Within the milling crowd a flash of black and gold caught his eye, a thrill half of excitement half of dread raced through him. A wild strange panic filled him, forcing the former fearless Watchman to retreat down a empty side corridor.

Lord Thorp stepped down from his dais to mingle with the Commanders. He found Commander Kingsbury easily.

"Is there something I can do for you my lord?" The Watch Commander asked, his old voice still slurred by sleep.

"Did you ever buy that house in the islands Arlan?" Lord Thorp asked softly. Kingsbury's thick bushy eyes knitted up as he thought about his Lord's question.

"Yes my lord." He admitted at long last. "Just outside of Tampos, it has a wonderful view of the ocean. Janna and I visit it sometimes in the summer, but rarely get to stay as long as we'd like." The old man bit his trembling lower lip, his pale faded eye's watering up. "I guess that's a problem we'll no longer have." The old man muttered, showing a glimmer of the intelligence that had won him the post so many years before. Lord Thorp smiled gently, taking the older man's withered age spotted hand into his own.

"I will miss your council old friend." The Governor General said softly.

"Janna will be happy... she's been asking me to leave my position for years now." The old Commander grunted.

"Have you given any thought as to who will take your place?" Lord Thorp asked gently.

"I have been impressed with young Simmons's here." Lord Thorp said, looking the young Captain in the eye, noting the surprise and excitement within the younger man's bright blue eyes.

"I had my doubts about him earlier, but he has come along nicely." Commander Kingsbury admitted looking up at the young Captain. Kingsbury grinned happily. "Congratulations Burl, you've come a long way in a short time." Offering the younger man his hand Simmons took it at once; shaking the older man's hand he was startled at the strength still within it.

"You set a fine example to follow Sir." Simmons answered softly. "And I shall do my best to honour and live up to that example in years to come."

"Hahah I'm sure you won't have any trouble there Burl." The old man chuckled softly.

"We will proclaim your promotion at the week's end Simmons, if that's enough time for you and your wife to prepare yourselves?" Lord Thorp inquired.

"Yes my Lord that will be more than enough time." Captain Simmons agreed bowing deeply.

"Then we can have your retirement ceremony that eve' at the state dinner Arlen." The white haired old Commander winced then shook his head.

"I've no love for state ceremony." The old man grunted. "Besides Janna always finds it so boring." Lord Thorp smiled wily, nodding his head at the older man's words.

"Indeed. I will announce it, but how about a smaller retirement affair....held in Doroon's pub- just for those that remember." The old Watch Commander smiled good naturedly at his Lord, the tinkle of memories in his eyes.

"That sounds like a ceremony I'd enjoy My Lord!" he said.

***

As Jon raced blindly down the empty hallway panting wildly, he grew more and more light headed. His head began to spin dizzily, causing the fleeing Watchman to slam into the marble wall. Turning a corner, Jon allowed himself to fall back against the smooth cold stone. Twisting his head around he starred fearfully down the long empty hallway he'd just ran down. Sweat crawled down his face and neck, as his wild panting began to slow. Suddenly he felt a soft touch on his chest just over his pounding heart.

"Are you alright Officer?" The Half Orc's soft throaty voice purred, making the gasping Watchman's head snap around. Jon was startled to find himself starring right into the golden eyes of the very Orc he had been fleeing. Panic surged through him like a lightening strike, the desire to flee thundering in his mind, but it was no use the big light green hand that lay so gently against his breast never the less held him like an iron chain.

"Your heart is thundering in your chest Officer." Worc whispered softly. "Officer... sounds so distant. We know each other much to well for that. Don't we?" Worc asked with that same smirking smile he'd worn earlier "Jon... yes Jon is ever so much better." The tall muscular Half Orc purred, leaning down and closer to the Human.

"Leave me alone... just leave me alone... Please!" Jon begged breathlessly.

"Leave YOU alone!?!" Worc chuckled. "A strange request for one who has followed me!"

"Followed you?" Jon gasped.

"Indeed." Worc asserted. "Your eyes seek me out from every crowd." The Watchman blushed knowing the truth of the Merchants words. "Your eyes betray you Jon." The lean Half Orc whispered grinning wolfishly.

"I..I don't know what you're talking about!" The Watchman lied weakly.

"Your eyes say that you do." The lean half breed insisted.

"I..can't... don't..." Jon started, but was cut off as Worc laid one thick but well manicured finger to his denying lips.

"Your eye's scream... you want to be with me." Worc whispered gloatingly, dropping his big paw back down to Jon's chest. Slowly he let it trail down the Human's torso, fondling its firm muscles, until it at last reached the Watchman's loin's, finding the muscle there to be even firmer still he noted with pleasure. The Watchman stood wild eyed and frozen, like some startled animal as the Half Orc's big paw groped and fondled his shockingly aroused manhood through his tight leather breeches. "So it is not just your eyes that long for me." Worc observed triumphantly. Leaning his broad tusked face in to within inches of the Human's Worc grasped Jon's wrist, guiding the Watchman's hand to his own loins. Jon's eye's widened in shock and terror, as he felt the Orc's stiff throbbing malehood through his soft silken merchants robes. "See... I want you just as much." Worc grunted, as he stared deep into the Human's startled eyes. For a second Jon's hand involuntarily closed around the Half-Orc's big throbbing maleness. Worc leaned in then, to plant a kiss on the Watchman's dry lip's.....this was more than the proud Watchman could bear! Quickly ducking his head under the kiss, Jon half leaped away, his half closed fist sharply tugging on Worc's huge malehood as the moved, making the tall Orc moan softly.

"NO...NOOOO!" Jon shouted, looking wild eyed back at the Half Orc. "I..I won't do this thing! I won't! The words rang weak and hollowly even to his ears even as he repeated them.

"You will do... what you will do." Worc answered, taking a step backwards as well.

"You'll NEVER make me fulfill your lewd desires!" Jon screamed. Worc threw his big green head back, roaring with derisive laughter.

"It is not my desires you must fear... but your own!" the merchant answered back smirking.

"Stay... stay away from me!" Jon ordered, backing up another step.

"I seek you not!" Worc agreed. "For it is you who must come to me!" With that the Orcish merchant turned on his heels and walked away leaving the stunned and frightened Watchman to stare dumbly after him.

***

As he rode back within his own district, Captain Simmons spurred his big grey gelding down Jordan's Promenade until he arrived at the big old brown stone house in which he lived with his family. Dismounting he tied his reins to the iron railing, no time to take the horse to the stables down the road which cared for him. Simmons hurried up the rough stone steps to his house. As he passed through the living rooms, he could hear his children playing on the upper floors.

"Alessa." he called.

"Burl? What are you doing home so early?" Alessa Simmons called from the kitchen. Smiling he walked in to find her cutting up the vegetables for their evening meal.

"I have news" He answered simply.

"Oh? Good news I hope?" She asked, matching his smile.

"Very good news." He said in an off hand manner then grabbed a carrot to chew on..

"Well? What is it? Or are you going to make me guess?" She asked in mock anger. He smiled at her then ate the carrot slowly, she sighed and was about to start chopping again when he exclaimed.

"Your looking at the new Watch Commander for the Adventurers Quarter!" Alessa Simmons shook her head, both in shock and elation at her husband's news.

"Commander...Commander!?!" She repeated. "Of the whole district?"

"Yes dear that's what Commander of the Watch means." Burl Simmons assured, smiling broadly at his wife's incredulous reaction.

"One step away from Lord Thorp himself." She gloated laying her work aside. She moved around the table to hug him tightly. "I can't wait to tell father." Simmons frowned, Alessa had married him when he'd been a rookie Watchman, her father a rather rich merchant had not liked him, believing she was marring below her class, and had openly opposed they're relationship- a feeling Simmons promotion first to Sergeant then Watch Captain had not changed.

"Yes I'm sure he'll be pleased." Simmons answered sarcastically.

"Of course he will." Alessa insisted. "I know he's never told you, but he was very excited when you made Captain."

"He was excited because we'd no longer be living on post, and would be nearer to your families place in the Merchant's Quarter." Simmons corrected. Alessa stuck out her tongue.

"Men! Your both just alike...that's why the two of you can't get along." Simmons just smiled at his wife's words, but winced inwardly. He was nothing at all like his greedy overbearing father in law, and found just the suggestion of it insulting. Pulling his wife closer to him, he kissed her long and passionately.

"I have to go." He whispered softly as the kiss broke. Pressed tightly against him Alessa looked up into his eyes. "We'll sort out a celebration tonight..." She interrupted him.

"So soon?" she pouted.

"I'm not the Commander yet." Simmons answered with a chuckle "Not until the end of the week anyway."

"I thought we might...ahem...celebrate right now though." Seeing the lewd suggestion within his wife's deep brown eye's Simmons chuckled softly.

"Celebrate...hum.....is that what we're calling it now?" Grasping the front of his tunic she pulled him to her for another long passionate kiss. Simmons shivered as he felt her long cool finger's slip under his uniform to explore his rapidly hardening organ. Damm! She could always turn him on!

"We can call it anything you like." She purred cupping his ball's in one hand as she pumped the other up and down his rigid cock. Reaching down she unbuttoned the uniform pants of his dress uniform and lifted his organ out.

"I...I. really should get back to m..my post." Simmons grunted his voice thick with arousal, as he fondled her round prefect breasts through her blouse.

"Surely you can spare a few short moments." She whispered tugging on his heavy dangling ball's playfully. Simmons smiled at his wife and a wave of pure lust overcame him.

"A few short moments!" he growled in mock anger. "I'm good for more than that ya saucy wench!" Simmons pushed her down onto her hands and knees, moving around to kneel behind her. Tossing her skirt up over her arched back, he slammed his mighty cock ball's deep into her in one long powerful thrust. She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming in pleasurable agony, as he took her in his best blackguard fashion! "Your a wet little slut!" He growled breathlessly in her ear.

"That's all the Court Elves leaving's!" She taunted naughtily, Simmons grinned at her little fantasy game.

"I guess that's to be expected with a whorish little trollop like you." He groused feverishly grasping at her breasts as he began to pump in and out of her.

"You don't know the half of it!" She giggled "I tarried with a band of Centaur stallions as well before you came home." She teased lewdly, between orgasmic moans.

"If you thought the centaurs gave you a hard ride you haven't seen anything yet darling" Simmons panted as he thrust.

"Promises, promises." Alessa giggled between orgasmic whimpers.

***

The week had past quickly for Jon, working first night then day patrols. He watched the Chermony where Captain Simmons was promoted to Commander, and like many who knew him he rejoiced at this yet within his own life the world seemed to be falling apart. The old Goblins curse nagged at him, getting under his skin, a splinter he couldn't seem to dig out; making his life a confusing mess. Time and time again, both night and day he'd found himself picking Worc's big green face out of the throngs crowding the street's. Worse still when the big Merchant wasn't in sight, he prayed on Jon's mind, invading the Watchman's dreams at times chasing him, at others moments laughingly fleeing as Jon pursued him. The little Goblin's curse was a constant torture for Jon, the more he tried to force it from his mind, the worse things seemed to get and having the whole of the weekend off duty, made things that much worse, and no longer could he go drinking with Burl or Stephan. Restless and tortured by the growing desires, Jon paced the barrack's like a caged beast, then unable to take it any longer he took to the streets, first to the bars and the whore houses, but he found no relief within these familiar places; the busty wenches than had once so fired his desires now left him flaccid and uninterested, and the strong drink only made him bolder. He'd had to fight his own desires, to keep himself from making advances on a handsome barbarian adventurer he saw in one bar, or a ugly, but massive bodied Orc in another; or even that black beard Dwarf in a third. Fleeing the pubs and whore houses, Jon wandered the streets of the Adventuring quarter.

Jon walked past the Orcish buck bar; it seemed to be getting good business after the riot. Before the old Goblin's curse he had barely noticed that the place existed, even as close as it was to the Watchtower he was stationed in. Now he found himself walking past the Pieced Hind again and again. It had expanded the Watchman noted, brought out the place next door and knocked through, so that it was split onto two levels, with a bar on both and bedrooms over all of it. The off duty Watchman peered through the open doors, as he stood in the far side of darkened street. There was a large crowd around the new game tables, and an equally large cluster at the bar counter itself, the tall, balding Half Orc barman seemed very popular.

Walking down the street, Jon paused at the corner to buy himself a Burjarlic from a disreputable looking vender. The greasy spiced fried meat strip on a stick was hot and salty but good, an Orcish delicacy he suddenly remembered. He devoured it quickly, and then turned walking back down the street, pausing just in front of the bar windows. Peering in, his eyes wandering over the huge green and grey skinned beasts within. They all seemed to be having a good time. There where Humans in there he noticed for the first time- just as he realised that a group of Goblins, and a very familiar richly garbed Half Orc were matching his stare, indeed giving him leering looks. The Watchman blushed then quickly moved up the street. Pausing just out of sight at the nearest alleyway mouth, Jon shivered with fear and anxiousness. Disgusting and homoerotic thoughts and images filled his mind, products of the old Goblin's curse. 'It would just be this once...that wouldn't make me one of them!' He rationalized. 'Just do it this once... get it over with...satisfy the curse, then I can go back to the way I was before.' His reasonable mind argued with his unreasonable fear and disgust at the thought of giving himself up like a woman for another male. The image of himself laying spread eagle for some other male to mount and rut made cold sweat cover his trembling body, and he shook his head violently to get the image out of his mind's eye.

Hearing a door creak open down the alley, he peered, startled, into the dark alleyway. Obviously this was the bar's side door. Nothing unusual about that, such places normally had two or three exits. People would be entering and leaving the bar all the time by these passages, but this creature didn't walk away, no he just stood there smiling slightly at the Watchman. It was Worc - lifting one big hand the Half Orc waved the Human closer. 'Do it just this once and its over with...then you can go rent two women!' The Watchman thought as he slowly, tentatively moved down the dark alleyway toward the gesturing Half Orc.

"Greetings inquisitive one... it is good to see you once more." The Merchant purred slowly licking his thick lips. The Human jumped at the words, more from sudden guilt than surprise. 'He knows what I want!' Jon thought panicking for a moment.

"Aaaa...it's some warm weather tonight... huh." He stammered lamely at the grinning Worc

.

"Ya tis nice." The Half Orc moved slightly down the alley, Jon blindly followed him away from the door to the buck bar. "Very warm," Worc said and slowly taking off his rich silken shirt and tossing it onto a nearby barrel top. The off duty Watchman shifted from foot to foot unnerved by this sudden display of masculine nakedness.

Jon's gaze took in the full view of the creature until now he had only his dreams...nightmares of what he looked like. The creature had done well from his mixed blood. He stood a head taller than a man, and looked to weigh about 200lbs of lean, solid muscle. The shoulders where wide, the neck thick, his arms long and powerful, he had nice hard well defined pectorals that bulged powerfully, a gorgeous abdomen that had a well-developed six-pack perfectly proportioned to his large size. The creature was bigger than a man but smaller than an Orc, though so much better proportioned. With some effort the Human tore his eyes away from the massively muscled torso, and looked up into the Half Orcs golden eyes. That was a mistake...for those eyes burned with desire and intelligence.... he knew.....knew what Jon wanted of him.....knew Jon was intimidated by his size, strength and sheer masculinity

"One like you shouldn't be out so late, in an area like this." The young merchant warned, reaching out to brush a long lock of hair from the Human's face. Jon was startled by the action and the words; they were the last thing he expected to come out of the half breed's mouth. He would've laughed, had he not realized it was a jib, a lewd tease about him approaching the creature in this alley.

"I'll be alright... I've been on these streets many times day and night." Jon responded try to make himself feel more comfortable and confident.

"You could still be mugged.... or worse find what you're looking for...Jon." Jon looked up into those Orcish eyes fearfully. What if he told anyone? 'I'll have to kill it afterwards!' The Watchman's cold rational mind reasoned, his hand straying to the hilt of the dagger on his belt.

"Well I think I can handle it." The Watchman growled softly.

"The mugging....or the other?" The Half Orc asked grinning wickedly.

"Either..or both." Jon snarled.

"Is that so?" He asked, his wicked grin growing sly and lecherous on his broad light green face. Grasping the Watchman's arm, he led him farther back into the dark alleyway. Then turned, wrapping one of his long green arms around Jon's upper body, holding the Human's arms down by his side. Slowly Worc turned the Watchman around, until he was directly in front of him, even as did his other massive paw dropped down to the Human's loin's, clumsily he fumbled at the fastenings of Jon's soft leather trousers. Worc pulled the Watchman closer as he slipped one hand down the back of the Humans undergarments. Jon found himself pressed to his huge molester, even as Worc's fingers teased between his ass cheeks he was pressed forward against the Orc's bulging very obviously aroused groin- Jon could feel the enormous bulge under the Half Orc's silk pantaloons pressing into this inner thigh. Worc flexed it making it rub uncomfortably against his thigh and poke into his balls. Suddenly Jon's fearful unreasonable mind rebelled, and he tried franticly to struggle free, but it was no use the Half Orc's massive long arms were just too strong, the grip of his massive paws too powerful.

"You were looking for it...you found it. Can you handle it?" Worc grunted as his huge paw finally unbuckled the Watchman's trousers.

"Just do it!" The watchman snarled his voice low and harsh... his mouth dry with fear.

"Heheh." The lean Orc chuckled as he pulled the Watchman's trousers and soft under garments all the way down to his ankles in one swift movement. One paw now gently began rubbing up the Watchman's hairy stomach, moving up under the Human's shirt, caressing one nipple, before sliding back down to grab the watchman's limp cock, it grew hard immediately despite the Human's fear and disgust at being treated like a female. The other hand strayed to the Humans buttocks, rubbing into the crease. The Half Orc's hot breath blew into Jon's ear, making the Human shiver. Worc's thick lips closed around Jon's earlobe sucking on it gently as his huge paws played with the watchman's loins, nipples and butt.

Despite the fast paced movement of all of this, or perhaps because of it; Jon was getting turned on. Worc licked around the edge of the Human's ear, before burying the wet tip into it. Pulling Jon forward and slightly to one side made the Human stumble and grab the top of a nearby beer barrel. A light green paw roughly shoved Jon's torso over, forcing the Human to brace his hands firmly on the barrel top. Fumbling for a second with his gold and sliver sash Worc released the knot and let his richly embroidered silken pantaloons drop to the dirty cobblestones of the alleyway; like most of Orc blood he wore nothing under his pantaloons. Worc would have preferred a bedroom, but needs must...........

'Gods...Oh Gods..I'm going to do this!' The Watchman thought wildly fear and panic filling him, but at the same moment there was a certain elation ‘it will break the curse!'. Worc's huge paw smacked loudly onto the Human's ass cheeks, then cupped and spread them to look at the puckered pink orifice.

"Luscious!" The Half Orc grunted his deep voice lower and huskier with desire. One thick finger pushed between the pale cheeks, rubbing and caressing the tiny hole; before slipping in.

"Luscious...and soooo tight!" Worc panted excitedly, suddenly kneeling down behind the 'captive' Watchman. Looking over his shoulder Jon could see the Orc's massive paws that spread his pale ass cheeks wide apart, but not Worc himself.

"Wha...?" He started to asked, but quickly found out as the Half Orc buried his tusked face between those wide spread cheeks. "OH GODS!" The Human cried sharply, as he felt Worc's long hot tongue lapping at his soft dangling ball sac. Slowly working it's way up to the tiny puckered orifice of interest. Worc kissed, licked, poked and probed the pucker with his long tongue. The whole feeling was so erotically enchanting the pleasure of it numbed the Watchman's protesting mind. Pressing his thick lips to the tight hole, Worc pushed the full length of his long tongue in. The Watchman inhaled sharply, a loud high pitched whimper escaping his lips; as he rose up onto his toes. Skewered on the long slick muscle, the Human withered like an impaled fish. Then slowly Worc began to fuck in and out, the long slick powerful muscle slithering in and out like a lust loin serpent, making the Human moan in ecstasy. While he licked Worc's thick fingers stroked and teased the Human's massively aroused cock and low hanging testicles. At this point in time Jon's morals and reason had been driven into the back of his mind by passion and the pleasure of the moment. Leaning forward over the barrel Jon thrust his buttocks back onto the invading tongue. As Worc's big hot paws played over his naked thighs and buttocks, Jon trembled in delighted pleasure. Huffing like a bellows, the Watchman spread his leg's still farther; as Worc's long thick tongue stroked and teased his gates open wider. Jon gulped for air, gripping the open top of the barrel tightly, he became aware of something burning hot, yet velvety smooth laying against his naked ankle, glancing down his eye's widened in shock, as he beheld the Half Orc's massive green organ laying stiff against his leg. 'That's going inside of me!' he thought, and for the first time was not flooded with panic and disgust. Worc pulled his mouth back, quickly shoving a couple of thick fingers into the Human's saliva slicked orifice drawing a sharp gasp from the Watchman as Worc's thick finger tip's brushed his male pleasure knot.

Before Jon realized or fought it Worc grabbed him by his low hanging nut sac and pulled him down to his knees on the alley's dirty cobblestones. Wrapping his long muscled arms around Jon's torso Worc began to grind his huge stiff cock up and down the Watchman's naked ass cheeks, all the while massaging the Human's passionately aroused cock.

"Last chance!" Worc purred into the Human's ear, as he spread the Watchman's ass cheek's wedging the tip of his own huge green organ between them.

"Just put it in me!" Jon panted.

"Now its time for that injection of hot capital." Worc said gloatingly. Jon blushed as he remembered the Merchants lewd teasing joke delivered not so long ago. It filled him with rage then, now it filled him with desire. "You want it?" Worc asked teasingly- he already knew how Jon would answer.

"Put it in me please!" The human panted breathlessly.

"As you will." Worc leered, his gloating smirk growing even bigger slitting his broad tusked face. His huge rough paws slid up to the Human's hips grasping them powerfully. Slowly the Orc pulled him back, impaling Jon on the stiff log of his massive cock. The huge velvety soft cock head wedged the Human's butt cheeks wide open, as it forced it's way into his rectum, Worc's tongue having stretched those muscles out so his enormous cock slid inside almost painlessly. Worc pushed against the Human's carefully loosened gates, drawing a high pitched sob from the off duty Watchman. With the outer lips wrapped around his pulsing cock head, Worc's paused for a second, waiting until he felt Jon pressing his hips back, the tighter inner gate slowly parted around Worc's big cock knob giving himself up Jon let the huge pulsing, but velvety smooth cock head inch it's way pass his last defences. The huge cock knob slipped passed the inner gate ring, the shaft sliding smoothly through the breached gates allowing Worc's organ to sink deep into the Human's virgin ass. Jon screamed and Worc threw back his big head and roared in pleasure, Jon's screams blending in with his ravisher's lusty roars. "There it is inside of you." Worc grunted hugging the Watchman's naked body close. "Now what shall I do?" He teased flexing the massive thick muscle inside of his captive.

"You know." Jon whimpered.

"I want to hear you say it." Worc growled soft, but domiantly.

"You have it inside of me..." The Watchman panted weakly. "I am yours." The Human admitted meekly, looking back over his shoulder at his ravisher hopefully, but seeing in Worc's eyes that this would not do; he cried huskily.

"FUCK ME!"

"Oh...I shall!" The gloating Worc assured, chuckling lewdly as he drew his powerful hips back. Back...back... back, until the big fleshy cock head was pulling at the squeezing anal gates. Throbbing and pulsing, barely within the Human's trembling body. Then with one powerful thrust of his hips, Worc buried it back inside, the Half Orcs swollen low hanging tentacles slapping into the Watchman's smaller, but just as swollen Human sack.

"Uhuhuuuuuu!" Jon moaned in torturous pleasure and delirious agony, even as he thrust himself back to meet the Half Orc's strong thrusts.

"Hahaha...sounds like someone likes a big Orc cock in their little slut hole!" Worc teased, as he slowly but powerfully stroked his massive male hood in and out of the tight throbbing hole.

"Fuck you!" The Human spat, his male pride rebelling at the Half Orc's denigrating intent and derisive tone.

"Hah! No little one, I'm fucking you!" Worc grunted mockingly, as he nuzzled into the hollow of the Human's thick neck. "Fuckin' yous... and yous likes it!" He teased deliberately slipping into the stereotypical lower class Common used by most Orc's.

"NO! No..I'm not..I don't." The Watchman stammered even as his own hips pumped his quivering hole up and down the length of Worc's huge throbbing organ.

"Owwww you not likes???" Worc asked teasingly. "I'll pull it out then." The merchant threatened, slowly beginning to pull his huge stiff cock out of the Human.

"Wait!" Jon whimpered panting, and pushing his hips back towards the retreating organ.

"What? You don't likes...I takes it out!" Worc volunteered. The Human trembled all over, sobbing softly; he collapsed onto his elbows, burying his blushing red face in his hands, he choked around his sobs.

"Don't take it out! Please don't take it out...I..I like it." Suddenly a chorus of rough loud guffaws filled the narrow stony confines of the alley. Lifting his red tear drop streaked face, Jon's eye's widened in shock and embarrassment- crowded around him and Worc were Watchman dozens and dozens- on duty and off; it looked like everyone from his barracks! They all stood there heads thrown back roaring with laughter at his admission and situation!

"Damned and be buggered! E likes ‘avein a cock in him jest like a woman!" An old Watch sergeant exclaimed.

"Gods!" Jon swore as he looked around him at all his friends and co-workers watching his debauchment. 'How had they known to be in this alleyway?' He wondered feeling sick. At once he thought of the Half Orc but looking back over his shoulder he saw that Worc's face was just as shocked and surprised as his own, the Orc obviously had not known they would have had an audience! The old Goblin's words came flooding back to Jon then. "May you never find satisfaction, until you have done what you fear the most!" Jon had thought those words had meant his deepest, darkest most hidden desires, those disgusting unnatural sadomastic lust's, that so often tortured his dream's, but No the old goblin's curse had found his true fear, not the act it's self; not giving himself up to another males pleasure, oh that scared him, surrendering ones self to be another's pleasure, but his true fear was discovery of those dark desires by other men, by his friends and co-workers by those now laughing derisively at him as his true desire's were exposed. The shame and humiliation of having his secret desires exposed was more than he could bare, the harsh mocking laughter of his friends ringing off the cold stone walls of the alleyway were just too much. He leapt to his feet Worc's huge cock slipping out of him with a lewd sounding slurp. Not even bothering to grab his clothing, Jon ran away from the jeering laughter letting the night shallow him up. .

Tales from the Dark City

Chapter 4 â€" Sold on Change

Guest Slots: Tristan, Ooluk, Jon, Simmons

As he pushed the heavy oak door open, and walked into the tavern's dark smoky tap room the young red headed nobleman wondered to himself 'God's...what am I doing here?!?' He was as out of place as a fish in the desert! Dimly glowing red eyes stared out at him, from the darkened booths. Dozens and dozens of pairs- deep guttural voices whispering in foul sounding Orcish. As he moved across the bar he heard louder cat calls and lewd comments in common, Orcish, and at times a combination of both. The smell of sweaty masculine Orcish bodies and the sound of the guttural Orcish language stirred memories of his time as the Orc's butt boi in the city lock up. He was having trouble getting his breath, more from his own anxious than the heavy smoky air. Pacing across the bar room, he finally made it to the bar. Luckily the corner of the bar was empty, so he could stand alone gulping for breath. Leaning against it, he panted and choked for moment; as the Orc bartender stalked over to him. "Whatcha doin' in here 'Booluc'?" He snarled, looking the handsome Human over derisively. 'Booluc' was one of those strange multipurpose Orcish words, it could mean beautiful one or butt boi, the redhead knew from his experience in the lock up.

"My names Tristan." He insisted weakly, looking up into the bartender's grizzled face.

"Heh!" The bar keep snorted. "This isn't the Hind, Huomons are not welcome here."

"Ooluk called me here." Tristan admitted sheepishly, blushing furiously.

"Ooluk!" The barkeep growled with a snort. Turning he drew a foaming tankard. He handed the tankard to the red head. "Ya yous look like somethin' himself'd be bringin' in here." He grunted around his smirk; then more seriously he leaned over the bar; and growled "Don't need no trouble...soos don't go makin' none."

"All right." The Human whispered meekly, taking a big gulf of the bitter dark warm ale. At last his breathing slowed, though his heart was still pounding within his muscular chest.

"Himself's in tha back booth." The big grey haired barkeep grunted gesturing with his broad thumb.

"My thanks." The redhead stammered not sounding all that grateful, but more nervous and unsure. He took another gulp of the Ale.

Tristan started over to the back corner booth. There was about four or five massive Orc's crowded into the booth. As he moved toward it, one huge form stood up, the young Human recognized Ooluk instantly of course, four days in the lock up servicing him constantly had burned every inch of the Half Orc's massive green body into the Human's minds eye. Tristan reflected that even though he was a half breed Ooluk was only slightly smaller than a normal Orc. The Orc reached out and wrapped one long heavily muscled arm around him.

"Caur Crim!" The huge Half Orc greeted him; it was Ooluk's pet name for him, roughly it meant 'fire and blood', a tease about his bright red hair and hot blooded submission.

"It's good to have you with me again." Ooluk purred softly fondling the Human's body familiarly, as he grinned wolfish at him. Tristan was just about the same height but looking at Ooluk's grinning wide mouthed, tusked Half Orc face it took a moment for the Human's wits to return, then meekly he stammered.

"Y..you call..called for me." It was true... the Orc had sent a message through one of his fathers servants summoning the young nobleman to this lower east side bar. Ooluk's hot breath smelled of strong ale as he leaned in to plant a lusty kiss on the Human's suddenly dry mouth. Ooluk's hot breath seemed to steal Tristan's away, as the long powerful Orc tongue parted his lips. Helpless in Ooluk's embrace the Human melted into it, the Half Orc's tongue caressing his own for a long moment of passion. Tristan was panting for breath, when Ooluk at last broke the kiss and grunted.

"Ya been missin' me then 'Buloc'?" One of the Orc's huge paws dropped to grasp, and squeeze the redheads left buttock firmly.

"Doesn't every 'Buloc' miss his 'Urak." Tristan answered meekly, to the big Orc who had mastered; and broke the youth to his desires. The Orc's within Ooluk's booth chuckled lewdly at the pretty Human's obsequious words and actions.

"Now there's a couple of things I've been missin' too." Ooluk grunted into the Human's ear, as he fondled and squeezed Tristan's round perfect buttocks, his big rough paws working their way under Tristan's knee length tunic, pushing the Human's tight under garments down his sleek athletic muscled thighs.

"Please don't..." Tristan begged softly "Not here...with everyone watching." The Human pleaded, knowing Ooluk would do whatever Ooluk wanted to do, but also knowing that if Ooluk took him here, most of the rest of the Orc's in the bar would take their turn as well. Ooluk chuckled lewdly as if he knew the Human's fears. Reaching down he tore the Human's soft under garment off, and lifted it to his flat Orcish nose, inhaling the sweaty male scent. Licking his thick lips, he tossed the shredded under garment to a brown skinned Orc sitting in the booth, who lifted it to his own broad nose to inhale its musky scent. Squeezing Tristan's beautiful round now naked buttocks firmly with both powerful paws Ooluk fondled him teasingly for a long moment. 'Oh gods he's going to take me right here.' Tristan thought wildly, panic showing in his bright emerald green eyes. Ooluk looked down into his wild eyes grinning wickedly, enjoying the Human's moment of fear and panic, before guiding him into the back of the booth.

"That can wait fer later." Ooluk said slapping the Human's firm buttocks and letting the tunic drop back into place. Tristan breathed a heavy sigh of relief, at his Master's words. Ooluk placed him on the seat and he now found himself crushed between his Master, and another huge fur clad Orc with strange tribal markings Tristan had not seen before. Then they ignored him then, the Orcs talking amongst themselves again in various accents of Orcish.

Tristan felt small as he sat there, tiny in fact as the hulking green and brown monsters crowded around him. He wasn't small of course standing over six feet tall, with an athlete's lean strongly muscled body. A strong man with clearly cut and strongly defined muscles under his taut pale skin, and yet Ooluk had over powered him so easily, had held and kissed him; like he himself had women. Ooluk had taken him, abused him, shared him round his Orc friends, and made him abuse that other Human. Ooluk had used him for pleasure; yet had filled him with it at the same moment, and Tristan had been unable to stop him or was it just that he'd really not wanted to resist what the Half Orc was doing to him? Because....because he knew was a Boluc inside, and always had been! Ooluk had just dug it out...had just shown it to him, had said 'Look this is what you are, and it is exactly what I want you to be!' Tristan trembled at this thought, but saw the truth within it. 'Why have I come here?' Tristan wondered for the thousandth time since he'd received Ooluk's summons. The answer was obvious even though he tried to deny it.....he'd liked what the Orc's had done to him. Liked how they had treated him like some great treasure they had all wanted to process, but because of that same desire in all the others they had been forced to share him amongst themselves or fight and kill over him. He liked that...liked being so valued...so desired! And he liked the pleasure their huge cocks had filled him with, liked being taken by force at first, then feeling himself surrendering to they're lusts, having his own lusts fulfilled by they're brutish treatment. In the end he really belonged to them, and would beg them to allow him to slake their desire with his body! Perhaps they had broken him, or perhaps the desire to submissively give himself up to please others was always within him. He wasn't sure any longer; at first he'd been outraged and despite the pleasure had felt violated. Yet now outside of lock up and free he had compliantly come when his ravisher had called.

After he'd been released from the lockup he'd tried to recapture the feeling the Orc's had engendered in him amongst his own race, but it just hadn't been the same somehow, none of the top males had made him feel like Ooluk had. His friends wouldn't, couldn't never have understood. They were all wrapped up in thoughts of their next female conquest, how could he explain what it was like to be the conquest! They'd have laughed at him, and called him rude names! None of them knew about his ravishment in the lock up, or his sojourns into the swish bars after he'd gotten out. Only the Half Orc servant boy who had delivered Ooluk's message knew where he was. No one knew he had come here, not his friends nor gods forbid his father! No one would have understood it; he was just beginning to fully understand it himself! Ooluk's heavy arm draped over his shoulders, pulling him in close to the Half Orc's side. The Human found his face buried in the Half Orc's big hairy arm pit, the rank smell of sweat and musky male scent filled his head, making it swim. Tristan leaned against his Master as the big Half Orc growled in his guttural language to the fur clad Orc behind him.

As Ooluk spoke to the other Orc's, Tristan found his hand on the Orc's huge knee. Tristan's hand began to slide up the inside of the Orc's massive thigh and under the leather kilt he wore. Soon his trembling fingers were exploring the soft smooth skin of the Half Orc's big ball sac. Playfully he rolled the huge testicles around; glancing down at him Ooluk flashed him a leering knowing smile, and then slid his powerful hips forward slightly. Tristan could feel the Half Orc's weakly pulsing semi rigid organ crowding into his palm. Slowly his trembling fingers wrapped around it, squeezing the big muscle gently, feeling it throb stronger in his fist, responding to his caresses, tensing, and hardening. ‘Why am I doing this?' A part of Tristan's mind wondered, but another part knew very well why he was doing it. He was doing it...for the same reason he had answered the Ooluk's call because he wanted to! Needed to! He closed his eye's, shutting out everything but the feeling of Ooluk's organ growing huge in his hand. The big fleshy helmet had already pushed its way out between his thumb and fore finger. Tristan began stroking his hand along the shaft as more and more of the huge cock flopped out. Soon it was stiffly pushing up against the kilt leather and drooling silvery pre-cum over Tristan's finger's gathering the slick shiny pre-cum in his hand, the Human used it to lube the huge cock. Slick and slippery now, his hand raced up and down its long, long length. Reaching down Ooluk pulled his leather kilt up his massive meaty thighs, until his engorged manhood was fully exposed. Reaching around behind Tristan, Ooluk grasped the back of his head pulling it down towards his aroused cock head. The Human bent himself double on the booth's cushioned seat, leaning down over his Orcish masters aroused loins, his arse high in the air. The fur clad Orc lifted Tristan's tunic tails, exposing the Human's pale naked buttocks. Huge, incredibly strong hands cupped and squeezed those pale ass cheek's making Tristan's own cock stiffen and jerk up slapping against his hard rippling six pack.

A silver glitter caught Tristan's eye, it was the glistening clear nectar of pre-cum hanging from Ooluk's huge Orchood, he bent forward with one swoop, moving Ooluk's big paw out of the way, replacing it with his own mouth. Lapping his Orcish Master's sweet pre-cum, it was clear, sweet and sticky on his lips. Tristan relished every moment of it, he pushed back Ooluk's foreskin with tightened lips. Gilding his wet lips down the shaft of the Half-Orc's thick cock, with familiar ease he smelt the pleasant musky, familiar odour of Ooluk, heightened the Human's enjoyment all the more. Swiftly he began bopping his head up and down, his hot suckling lips milking Ooluk's pulsing shaft. Adding a little more suckling pressure every few seconds or so, Ooluk was thrusting his tool up! Trying to find Tristan's throat, so the Human would swallow his massive cock whole! Tristan most eagerly obliged, Ooluk picking up speed thrusting his powerful hips higher until the big Half Orc had pushed the whole cock in, Tristans face in the tangle of wild pubes around the base of the thick organ. Tristan gulped and swallowed around Ooluk's huge invader, making the huge Orc buck and tremble with delight. He swallowed a few more times which drove Ooluk wild with passion, moaning loudly, softly grunting, "Yes, yes, oh yes my caur crim!" Tristan allowed Ooluk to pump away, into his suckling mouth and hungry throat, only stopping when he could no longer breathe through his nose. The Human pulled his mouth off the huge green cock that glistened with cloudy grey Orcish pre-cum and saliva.

Around the booth's table the watching Orc's whispered and gestured amongst themselves. Tristan tightened his lips into a tiny round 0 and then forced Ooluk's slick cock head into them

"Ahhhhhhhh." The Half Orc groaned as his throbbing cock head slipped into the Human's hot suckling mouth once again. The Orc's around the booths table all began talking excitedly at once. As his head bobbed up and down Ooluk's stiff cock, the Orc fondling Tristan's firm buttock's slipped a thick finger into him, making the Human's stiff organ slap up against his flat stomach, with each deep finger thrust.

"Nyvok!" Ooluk snarled slapping the other Orc's molesting finger's away. Ooluk berated the other Orc. Tristan's mind wandered over the Orcish words he knew. 'If man...or men want butt boi... bid like the others?' ‘What was he talking about?' Tristan wondered. Then all his thoughts were driven away, as the long hard cock in his mouth stiffened, pulsing as it disgorged its hot liquid passions into his mouth. Greedily Tristan sucked and milked his Masters huge organ, eager for every drop Ooluk would shoot. When at last the mighty organ was drained, the Human lay back against his Masters side, eyes tightly shut; his belly full of the hot thick Orc liquid lust. Tristan felt warm and comfortable, and as the Orcs spoke of their plans, Tristan could hear the metallic clink of silver coins hitting the wooden table top. Someone pushed his tankard into his hands and he drunk lazily from the corner of his mouth; the Ale was warm and tasted odd, but Tristan drank it slowly until he drifted off into the blackness of sleep, his ear upon the powerful chest, the drumming of a strong heart; a warm musky body pressed close. Dimly he was aware of strong arm's lifting him, but then total blackness took him.

***

Jon had kept to himself in the days following his humiliation in the alleyway behind the Orc Buck Bar. Coming in off day patrol, he moved through the barracks quickly. Sitting heavily on his bunk, he carefully removed his uniform and armour putting both carefully in his storage chest. He grabbed his towels and headed for the posts baths, a large towel held into front of himself. He noticed more than a few sideways glances from the other Watchmen in the Barracks corridors. They where not the first ones he'd received since having been caught in the alleyway tryst, he'd been pretending not to notice, but the sly stares and lewd smirks mortified him. Though he had to admit to himself, he was unsure if it was the looks or the knowledge that they all had seen and laughed at his debauchment by the Half Orc. There had been no clues as how they knew he'd been there either.

After taking a quick dunk in the rushing water of the cold pool, he decided to spend sometime in the sauna. Climbing from the cold pool, he padded over to the heavy wooden door to the sauna. He thanked the Gods again for the Dwarf who'd invented this thing. He walked in, it was thankfully empty, and he took a seat on the warm wooden benches, letting the hot steam waffle over him for a short while. Leaning forwards towards the magically heated stones, he turned the brass valve that released more water over them. Clouds of hot white steam rose over him, forcing Jon to close his eyes. He leaned back and drifted, letting his stresses flow away. It was the sound of bare feet very close on the damp tile floor that made him open them again. Jon found himself looking at a short thick semi erect cock. Hurriedly he looked up at the young Watchman's face, which was a mask of mixed apprehension and excitement, while lustful mischief glittered in his eyes.

"Something I can do for you?" Jon asked, wincing at his own choice of words. He suddenly noticed a crowd of naked younger Watchmen, standing some distance behind the first; watching them anxiously.

"I..." The nervous young man began. "I...I... was wondering if... if you'd like... like to have this?" He stammered, gesturing to his own semi erect organ. Jon opened his mouth determined to say. 'No, you sick little bastard.' but heard himself saying very obsequiously instead.

"Yes please." The young Watchman's eye's widened in surprise, his face taking on a gloating superior look. Lifting his rapidly hardening member, he stepped closer to Jon's face. Determined to hold back, Jon never the less found himself leaning forwards, his hungry drooling mouth engulfing the slick uncut cock; feeling as his eager fawning tongue explored the soft smooth skin of the stiffening organ within his mouth. The sweaty and unwashed cock tasted sour and salty, blending with the young Watchman's musky male scent, but Jon found it wasn't a displeasing flavor in fact the taste and feeling of it aroused him. As he sealed his lip's around it's thick base, suckling excitedly Jon found his own limp cock had began to throb mightily, jerking up stiffly between his muscular thigh's.

"Ohooooo!" The young Watchman gasped, making the others behind him move in closer. Jon could hear them whispering excitedly, and see the desire on their smirking faces. The first young Watchman didn't last long, and no sooner had he cum down Jon's eager throat and pulled out than a second very obviously aroused Watchman stepped into his place.

"Would you..." but even before he'd gotten the words out Jon's suckling mouth closed over his throbbing cock. "Ahhhhhh Yeah!" the Watchman grunted, thrusting his pulsing organ in and out of Jon's fawning lips. It went on like that, until Jon was sure he'd pleasured at least half the barracks. When the last young Watchman had fed him his seed, and departed grinning wolfishly. Jon sprang to his feet, hurriedly stumbling into the latrines. Locking the door behind him, he staggered into one of the privy stalls; his own cock sat throbbing and drooling as hard as iron against his full queasy stomach. Grasping it, he squeezed the shaft angrily; jerking savagely on it, disgusted by the warm full feeling in his belly, and his own arousal at his actions. It took him only a few quick pumps to orgasm, spurting his load down the latrines hole.

"Uhuhuhuuuu!" He moaned, collapsing weakly against the rough stone wall beside the latrine hole, the after glow was so pleasurable. Suddenly he realised something and he sobbed brokenly.

"The curse... the curse... it's... it's not broken!"

***

Sometime, maybe minutes maybe hours later, the jingling of a brass bell awoke him. Glancing around groggily, Tristan was lost for a moment. He felt full and heavy. He found himself in a small waterfront shop; out the small grubby windows he could see the fog shrouded harbour. It was night, possibly some time in the early morning. The small shop was empty, save for himself, Ooluk, a one legged old Human sailor with a long nose, a wide empty desk, two candle holders, and the chairs they sat in. Ooluk was leaning over the desk, carefully drawing upon a small piece of stretched canvas with a thin stick of charcoal. The old sailor was watching carefully and nodding his grizzled old head from time to time.

"So jest tha standarrrd motief within yourn mark at tha centre then?" The old Sailor grunted questioningly.

"Yes but you must do my mark jest as I 'ave done." Ooluk growled.

"I understan." The sailor answered. "I've done a few o these fer......." Ooluk grinned wickedly nodding his shaggy head.

"I'd heard that." He said. "Good work too he says."

"Where do ya want it ta go." The old sailor asked softly. Moving over to Tristan, Ooluk pulled him to his feet and grasping his woollen tunic he pulled it over Tristan's head in one easy yank.

"Here." The big Half Orc said gesturing to Tristan's hairless chest just below the hollow of his throat. "An' on both cheeks." He continued as he turned the red headed youth round. "Then yous can be puttin' the rings in 'is little nipples an nose." Standing passive as Ooluk handled him, Tristan looked up wild eyed for a moment at the mention of this.

"R..Rings?" He asked haltingly. Ooluk reached over and cupped his chin in one huge paw, starring deep into the Human's eyes he said simply.

"I wants it." Tristan lost in the golden depths of his Masters eyes, just nodded numbly. Turning back to the sailor Ooluk grinned wolfishly and asked. "How longs it goina takes ya?"

"The rings first, they'll go quickly, the tattoo's are simple enough in they're design. Two maybe three hours...if'in he don't mind the hurtin'."

"He's tough." Ooluk assured. "He can take it."

"Fine" the sailor said and stood "Bring him through to the back, and we'll get him prep'ed" Ooluk grinned wolfishly at Tristan, and pulled his boi to his feet.

***

The huge old grey stone castle known as Olrrick's gaol had once been the home for a adventurer who had been the very first Watch Commander of the district, now it was now the Central Watch Command Post for the District and filled with barracks, offices and courts. Deep below the stone courtyards were the cells where the criminals caught by the Watch were locked away until the courts saw to their punishments; fines and time served for most, but the gallows out in the public Outer Ward did a fair business. In the upper levels of the massive Keep where the offices of the Watch Commander and in the last 10 days they had been very busy there, moving out the retiring Commander's personal effects and bringing in new furniture and effects for the ‘new boy'.

Sitting behind the dark massive oak desk within his new office Watch Commander Burl Simmons had spent the days getting to know the ways of the castle and his general staff. He had hardly been home to try and help Alessa pack for the move. His days had been spent meeting the clerks and office workers of the Watch Commanders personal staff, the magistrates, prosecutor and other court officers, the representatives of the various Guilds, Orders, Church's, Temples, and other miscellaneous bodies he now provided protection and law enforcement for. Commander Kingsbury's old Chief of Staff Dist Blackhorn had also taken retirement at the same time as his Commander, which only added to the confusion and chaos; however Blackhorn's very effective personal secretary Vanasa Greenleaf had stayed on as Commanders Simmons new Chief of Staff and she was getting on top of the whole thing. Simmons rubbed his eyes thinking of the schedule and workload- he needed to find help for Alessa, sort out reputable people for the house move, hire house staff, and interview all the Watch Captains and Sergeants serving under him, it was not that he didn't already know them (as the officers of the Watch tended to gather and socialise with each another) but even so he had to call them in and interviewed them anyway. Just like the late night meeting he was now at Simmons wanted to lay down his own views and make sure those under him understood what he wanted to do with his District. Years of complacency and cobwebs where about to be shook up!

Commander Simmons sat with the District Special Investigators. He'd met with each one of them individually first of course, but had called this group meeting to go over a few points as a team. Simmons watched them as they filed in; they where a mixed bunch of ex-Adventurers, and specialists, however from his own experience while on the streets, and by reputation, they knew how to get a crime solved and the job done. Simmons smiled at them as they came back in and tried to remember who was who- Avery, the narcissistic Mage, and (mostly self proclaimed), expert in all matters magical; Stomer Vleck the very serious and irritable Gnomish alchemist, knowledgeable in all things natural and chemical; Aloysius Silveroak the sage, Elven bard and master of lore both ancient and current; and lastly Doblar Halaxe the Dwarven Enforcer, and his network of street operatives, which judging from what Simmons could remember consisted mostly of the Dwarf's own brothers. Still they were a smart, streetwise and battle hardened bunch. Commander Simmons cleared his throat, looking around at each of them as he picked up the pile of reports he'd had prepared for this meeting.

"I am glad to have met all of you." He started. "I'm only sorry I have to put you to work so soon after having had the pleasure."

"Think nothing of it Commander." Avery said spreading his arm's in a magnanimous gesture. "We are here to serve and to be honest it's been rather boring of late." The others, used to the mages ostentatious manner ignored him, instead listening intently to Simmons.

"I fear it shall be anything but boring in the near future." Simmons said darkly, as he began handing the stacked reports around. "In the last nineteen days there have been twenty one gruesome murders within our district."

"Twenty one murders!" Avery exclaimed loudly, sounding both shocked and amazed. "How is it we have read nothing about it with the daily broadsheets?"

"The victims have all been of Orc's." Simmons answered "and all in or on the edge of the Warrens."

"Surely that is outside our realm Commander!" Avery blurted.

"No. It is within our District." Simmons assured.

"What the good Mage means sir is that under Commander Kingsbury the Orc's were left to handle such difficulties themselves." Silveroak explained in his careful measured tones.

"Commander Kingsbury is gone. I command this Watch and this district now!" Simmons said sternly. "The Warrens and the Orcs will be treated like everyone else living in my district!" He said firmly.

"An enlightened view Sir... I applaud you." Silveroak said politely "However be forewarned, such views will make you few friends and very many enemies."

"And the Warrens will be hard to bring under control." Halaxe rumbled.

"Oh I am aware of that! But I thank you both for your warnings. Simmons answered. "If any of you have a problem with this policy of equal law for all regardless then you are free to leave my service at anytime." Looking around the room at their faces, Simmons saw that indeed none of them seemed too bothered.

"Oh I have no problem with such." Avery announced. "It merely comes as somewhat of a surprise, but indeed it is high time such a program was instituted."

"Humph! High time indeed!" Vleck snorted, only the tenth thing Simmons had ever heard him say.

"Unlike my more rural cousin's I've never had much trouble with Orc's." Halaxe growled. "If you can pull this policy off, it's fine by me."

"Very well then I'm glad we've came to an understanding." Simmons chuckled grinning. "I'd like each of you to take a copy of these reports, look into them and see what you can tell me about the murders and who or what may have committed them. I have instructed the Captains to keep this as quiet as they can, I would ask you to do the same." He looked around the table; they all nodded "That is all then." He said dismissing them and ending the meeting.

The Investigators gathered their papers, reports and began to file out. As they broke up the chatter as positive and Simmons felt fairly satisfied with the way it had gone. However something was nagging at him, he wasn't totally satisfied with the approach, and he needed to do something more. He called out to the departing Investigators.

"Mage Avery, I would have one more word with you." Avery turned around, walked back to his chair and sat down.

"What can I do for you sir?"

"There are two things I need to ask you about actually." Simmons answered, as the Mage watched him intently. "For one thing there is a Watchman missing since the riot and since everyone else alive or dead, is accounted for I would ask that you use your divination magic to see what you can find out about Stephan Wuir's fate."

"Not my specialty, but I shall do all I am able." Avery assured.

"My thanks." Simmons said simply "And the other matter is I need a way of moving about the Orcish gathering places unnoticed. Think you have such a way?"

"Move about Orcish gathering places unnoticed......" Avery mumbled "Invisibility would be too awkward, unable to see you others can still bump into your body. The Mask of Transformation perhaps, but where is it now? Hum..........or there is the Torc of Cy. Yes I think that would be the perfect answer."

"What is this Mask? I don't wish to alter my form forever!" Simmons warned.

"The Mask of Transformation was crafted many years ago by the spy service of the King of Kartaron" Avery explained. "When used it transforms the user into the perfect likeness of any person or creature, for a short period of time."

"How long?" Simmons asked intrigued.

"Ten hours at the most." Avery assured.

"Can you find this mask?" Simmons inquired.

"Not sure, I last saw it some time ago. I would need to look." The Mage said.

"And the Torc?"

"The Torc of Cy is an armband that once the command words are spoken transforms the wearer into the form they are picturing in their head strongest at the time. It can change you into specific races, creatures, or a person."

"Do you have one?" Simmons asked leaning forward.

"It so happens there is one in the Castle collection." Avery said with a slight, thin smile.

"May I have use of it?"

"Of course sir, it is, as am I, at your disposal." Avery smiled wider. "When would you like me to bring it by?"

"Tomorrow afternoon would be excellent. We can try it to ensure it works before I use it amongst the Orcs"

"Tomorrow afternoon it shall be then sir." Avery agreed. Standing he bowed to the Commander.

"Thank you kindly Mage. I look forward to seeing this item." Said Simmons and dismissed him.

Tales from the Dark City

Chapter 5 â€" Night and Day

Guest Slots: Tristan, Jon, Vox, Wast, ‘Omac', Custard, Lilith

The old sailor motioned for Tristan to take a seat on a well padded table. Grasping his already opened tunic the old sailor finished undressing the young red head.

"I have other things I must do, stay here until I return sweet one." Ooluk ordered, bending down to plant a wild savage kiss on Tristan's quivering lips. The Human's long muscular arm's slipped around the Orc's thick neck, holding on and lengthening the kiss. At last the Orc reached up pulling the Human's arm's down.

"More of that later." He promised as he stood up straight. "We will have such a night Caur Crim." Turning then the big Orc walked over and opened the door stepping out into the foggy night, the swirling grey mass swallowing his big form up, the small brass bell jangled as the door closed, leaving the trembling Tristan suddenly feeling cold and alone.

The old sailor looked into Tristan's eyes as he pulled the tray of tools over to within reach.

"I could call tha Watch while E's gone." The old man offered as he took a white cloth that had been soaking in a bowl of what smelled like strong Rum.

"NO!" Tristan exclaimed, thinking fearfully of what would happen if he called the Watch. He'd have to explain what was happening, and his father would be notified!

"Or ya could jest put ya tunic back on and leave." The old sailor grunted as he rubbed the cold wet cloth over the red head's nipples cleansing them as they hardened. Thinking of Ooluk's golden eyes, and powerful, masterful, green body Tristan trembled, whispering softly.

"I..I can not." The old sailor shrugged his thin shoulders, giving the red head a 'to each his own' smile. Dropping the cloth back into the bowl, he poured a bit more of the strong alcohol over it, and then he placed a clamp on both the youth's stiff left nipple, Tristan bit his lip, but did not say anything. Looking again into his eyes to see if he'd bolt and sure he wouldn't the sailor placed a clamp on the other nipple. Then he picked up a long thick needle from the tray.

"Last chance." the sailor said in a quiet tone. Tristan shook his head. The sailor shrugged again and pressed the sharp tip of the needle against the pale bloodless flesh that was trapped within the left clamp. A small groan of pain escaped the redhead's full lips as the needle pushed through his trapped nipple, then he gritted his sparkling white teeth, the idea coming to him that it was very much like what Ooluk had done to him in the lock up â€" Penetration - both the big Orc's huge love muscle, and the tiny sliver of steel, different acts yet the same- delicious agony and pleasure so entwined as to be inseparable. A somaesthesia swept through him then, of his desire for submission and sexual service.

"Uhuhuuuuu." He groaned as the second nipple was pierced, the pleasure/pain of it exciting him. In moments two bronze rings were adorning the young red head's chest. His head swam dizzily, the flush of sexual excitement racing through his body like a lightening strike. "He's tough." Ooluk assured. "He can take it." The words rang in his mind, Ooluk had known even when he himself had not.

"Ere now that wuzn't so bad was it?" The old sailor asked as he gave Tristan a small sip of healing exlir. "Now himself wants a nose ring." The old man said, holding up a bronze ring so big that Tristan could easily have used it as a bracelet. The Human gulped at the site of the huge ring. "It's called a bull ring... used fer controllin' beast's o burden. Orcs use it much the same way fer controllin' they're kind. Ya know 'ow E's goina use it........?" Tristan nodded his head, blush creeping up his neck; spreading out to cover his cheeks even as his manhood jerked up sharply, making the old sailor chuckle lewdly.

"I guess ya do." He grunted around his chuckles. "But first tha nose, this one is gonna hurt a lot more." The old sailor warned, as he picked up a small sharp knife from the tray.

"Put it in me." Tristan moaned softly, making the old sailor's bushy eye brows arch up. The pain was indeed a great deal worse, just as he had been warned since the huge bronze ring once inserted had to be bent, heated and hammered to seal it in place. It hung down just below his square chin, so that he had to be careful not to snag it when speaking. Blood still dribbling down his face, Tristan leaned back on the table and then jerked in surprise as the old man cup his cock in the palm of one hand; rock hard from the pleasure/pain of his piercing, and the thoughts of how Ooluk would use them, the old sailor looked the throbbing organ over carefully.

"It's a fine thick cock." he breathed licking around the tip; and slipping his tongue under the long foreskin. Tristan's breath quickened as the old sailor teased his stiff excited organ for a long moment. Grasping the shaft with one rough hand, the old sailor stroked its length, then dropped down to tickle and fondle Tristan's soft ball sac, even as his tongue teased the big fleshy helmet.

"Ahem!" Tristan grunted, already growing close to a massive orgasm in the old sailor's mouth.

"All part o tha service." The old sailor gasped. " A bit o pleasure will easy tha pain."

"I...ohuhuuu." Tristan grunted his body stiffening as he grew nearer and nearer to his peak. The old sailor's hot mouth engulfed the red head's full length, even as the old man's rough fingers caressed the youth's soft ball sac. "UHUHUUUU!" Tristan moaned sitting up rapidly, as his body contracted in orgasm. Three quick spurts filled the old sailor's suckling mouth with sweet creamy man milk and spent Tristan flopped back down on the padded table, panting for breath as the old sailor's hot tongue and experienced lip's milked the last few drops of his weakly splashing cock.

"Ammmm a fine cock indeed. A shame to give it away... to a filthy Orc!" The old sailor panted licking his lips. Sitting up sharp and angy, Tristan pushed the old sailor's suckling mouth away... tho' it took all his will power to do it.

"He's not filthy!" Tristan growled harshly. "And you've still got work to do! If you want the filthy Orcs money!" The old sailor look up mockingly at Tristan all pity gone from his demeanor.

"Guess ya deserve whot E's goina do ta ya! Ya little cunt!" He stepped back to get some tools. "Hehe... jest wishin' I could be thar ta sees it 'appen."

"Just finish your job!" Tristan snapped with anger, all passion gone.

***

Vox leaned back against the cold stone wall of the alleyway, and waited patiently for his Humon's return. The market place was crowded, even so late in the evening. The street lamps had been lit for hours, but a large number of caravans and Adventurers had arrived just that morning, there was lots of coin and goods to buy thus the Adventurers Quarter was full of travelling merchants, caravan guards, adventurers and somewhere out in the foggy market square Wast the cut purse who was working his trade. Vox's large belly grumbled, reminding the big Orc that he was late for his dinner. Suddenly from out of the of the crowded market place sprang Wast, racing across the street and into the mouth of the alleyway- behind him a small group of large armour clad Humons charged along in fast pursuit.

"Run!" Wast panted as he passed the lounging Vox raced down the dark alleyway, Vox watched his Humon pass deciding, then glanced back at the angry adventurers chasing Wast the big Orc charged down the dark alleyway. Tall and fast Vox easily caught up with Wast, and without stopping he scooped the Humon up and over one shoulder. Vox darted down the darkest; most twisting alleys heading for the safety of the Warrens. The darkness was no problem for the night sighted Orc and they quickly left their pursuers to blunder, and stumble along in the garbage cluttered darkness behind them. When the sound of their pursuers finally fell far behind them Vox sat Wast back on his feet and gave the Human a sour look, as he bent over panting for breath.

"Mes thought yous said yous good ats purse cutsin'." Vox teased again, straightening up to hug his Humon tenderly. Wast's face reddened and he sputtered.

"Who would have expected that big armour plated buffoon would have the brains to have had his purse warded!" The big Orc grinned and kissed him, Wast melted into Vox's kiss.

"We's goin' without dinner then?" Vox asked when the kiss broke, looking uncomfortable as his stomach rumbled loudly.

"Hell no!" Wast answered grin, as he lifted the bulging leather bag from under one arm. "I may not have gotten big boys purse... but I got plenty of others!" The Human pulled out a handful of mixed coins, and then let them trickle between his fingers back into the bag.

"Hhmmm." Vox grunted pleased. "Lets goes see whats Watt's got cookin'." Wast grimaced.

"The Hind again?" He complained.

"What?" Vox asked looking at his Humon innocently. "Rooms cheep, foods good, better thans it use ta be's, and, and, maybe we's find someones ta share." Wast grasped the front of the big Orc's leather tunic and pulled him into an embrace.

"All I wants ta share is my big cock with you!" He grunted huskily giving Vox another long deep kiss.

"Awwww buts I's hungery." Vox grunted as their lips parted.

"I got something for ya ta eat...somethin' hot and gwooy." Wast said aggressively, rubbing a hand over Vox's thick chest muscle.

"Ummmm maybes a little snack be'fer tha real meal." Vox agreed, slowly sinking to his knees before the Human, he had one hand on Wast's belt when his long pointed Orc ears caught a sound in the s alleyway crossroads up ahead. Grasping Wast's trouser waist band he pulled the Human down with him.

"Wha..." Wast started, but the big Orc silenced him with one thick finger over his lips. Vox nodded up the alley and the pair slowly and stealthily they crept to the corner, peering down the cross roads of the alleyways. Down the dimly lit East alleyway their eyes met by a horrible sight- a huge demonic form crouched, half hiddern, but totally silent and deadly; waiting for its prey.

" 'Omoc'!" Vox whispered into Wast's ear, his voice coming out weak and frightened.

"You don't really believe in that cra..." Wast started quietly, his weaker Human eyes only able to make out a large man crouched in the alleyway, but he was cut off.

" 'Omoc'!" Vox insisted.

A second crash from the foggy West alleyway turned into a staggering Orc. He went to lean on the broken lamp in the centre of the crossroads and instantly and silently like some great cat; the fiend pounced. Knocked off balance by the massive thing the Orc fell with his attacker on top 'Omoc' roared in a deep, demonic voice; he savagely clawed and bit at the Orc. The victim was struggling and screaming in obvious terror, trying not so much to fight the horror attacking him, as to simply get away; it was obvious he stood no chance against the thing attacking him.

"We hav' ta do somethin'." Wast whispered, but found he was frozen by the frightening spectacle before him. Unable to look away, Wast watched in sickening horror; as the struggle slowed ‘Omoc' grasped the weakly struggling Orc by his broad shoulder's, one knee on his lap, he was twisting and pulling back brutally. A sudden, loud, wet sounding crunch; made the Human wince.

"It's too late." Vox whispered. The Orc struggling with 'Omoc' screamed in pain, then fell limp in the fiends grasp. Standing 'Omoc' tossed the Orc's limp body against the East alley wall then knelt over it. From they're hiding place, Wast and Vox could see the Orc's terrified eyes; he was powerless in his broken body and could only watch in shock and horror as the fiend began ripping into his numbed form, furiously devouring his soft sensitive flesh. Unable to watch any longer Wast turned away, pressing his face against Vox's chest. The big Orc wrapped his powerful arms around the trembling Human holding him tightly. Suddenly the Human realised something

"We must go." He whispered "Before he sees you." Vox nodded, and the pair of them worked their way back down their alleyway, the roars of the fiend covering their escape.

***

Doroon walked along behind the black clad woman, watching her hip's sway seductively. The young rent boi smiled to himself, this was the best luck he'd had seen.....well since that Watch Captain had gave him coin, and told him to get in out of the rain anyway. Like many rent boi's walking the streets of the Warrens, Doroon sexually prefered females, females however rarely hired street walking boi whores, the only ones he saw where rich noble ladies looking to slum or fat, bored, merchants wives looking for someone to tell them they were still sexy. Doroon had never seen the former and very rarely had seen the latter, mostly he was hired by other males, who like to use his pale lean body for they're pleasures, thus this tall richly garbed woman puzzled him slightly, but then her strange desires perhaps explained it. She was some kind of rich noble who craved strange stuff that was why she had hired him and that's why they were slipping into the city catacombs at night! Truthfully Doroon had been a little shocked, when she confessed her desire to do it on her ex husband's tomb. Still it was not the most shocking, or disgusting thing he'd ever been asked to do, and at least he'd be doing it with a woman, which meant his sore abused asshole would get a rest and with the coin she'd promised, he could rent a room in a Tavern; for a few weeks.

They traveled well off the lit city streets and down a short dusty stone stairway. A corroded old bronze gate blocked their way but the lady lifted a big brass key hanging from her robes belt, the old lock clicked loudly; as she opened it. Looking back over her shoulder, she smiled lustily at the young rent boi.

"Still with me honey?" She purred.

"Oh yes Lilith, I'm just enjoying the view." Doroon explained, moving up to press his body against her backside.

"Ammmm you have been enjoying it, haven't you?" Lilith chuckled, swaying her hip's to rub her heart shaped ass against Doroon's bulging loin's.

"I can't wait to be inside of you!" Doroon whispered his hands sliding around her body to cup and fondle her small round breasts. Lilith leaned back against him, allowing him free rein for a moment. Her thick nipples hardened, as he fondled the globes of her breasts. Then she pushed the corroded old bronze gate open, and pulled him into the alcove that served as entranceway. The smell of old moulding death, and decay greeted them as the moved through the open doorway.

"It's so cold and dark. How will we find our way?" Doroon asked.

"The tomb is lit and I have this to light our way there." Lilith assured holding up a short wooden stick that instantly burst into flames.

"Wow!" "How did you...??"

"Its a simple parlor trick." Lilith explained, as she lead the way through the ancient stone tunnels.

They finally came upon a huge finely furnished cavern, carved from the natural stone; the room had been made, like so many of the tombs of the rich, to resemble a cathedral. A plain grey stone sarcophagus set in the rooms centre. All around the edges of the room fire pots burned brightly, the tomb was indeed well lit. Walking over to the sarcophagus, Lilith leaned back against it; spreading her long shapely leg's. Smiling lustfully Doroon stepped between them, his hands going back to her breasts. Long muscular arms rapped around his neck, pulling him to her for a long savage kiss. She was a couple of inches taller than him, so Doroon found himself looking up into her pale face, her creamy white skin looked as tho' it had never seen the sun's light, making her beautiful face look as though it was carved from marble. 'Damn she's pretty.' Doroon thought, as he reached down pulling at the belt holding her black robes closed. He unknotted it, pulling her black robe's open exposing her slender shapely body. She let his soft hot hands explore her pale cool, but already aroused body. Resting her hands on his shoulders, she pressed down against them.

"Kneel!" She ordered huskily. Obediently he knelt between her thighs, burying his face in her black haired mound. Doroon thrust his tongue deep into her sex, pushing past the pulsing lips, licking and sucking the juices from her sublime pleasure box! Her hips began to undulate, and then rock back and forth as she moaned huskily. Hearing her moans aroused him all the more and eager to please Doroon drove his tongue even deeper. Fumbling with his trousers he freed his own rock hard organ and pumped its shaft as he worked his hot, shivering client, loving the slick feel of her hot fuckhole on his tongue and lip's! Lilith's body quaked and trembled in ecstasy as she rode the rent boi's face. Parting her pale thighs wider, she clutched at the back of his head and pushed him further and harder in, so deep his nose was prodded her clit. Doroon licked and suckled lustfully and a scream of pleasure ripped from her throat, as she blasted into climax, hips bucking frantically. He rode her thrusting hips, until her last orgasmic shiver's died away. Then he stood up between her wide spread leg's once again, his own pulsing cock only inch's from her quivering; dripping sex. Lilith looked down at him languidly, a wide lustful smile on her beautiful face.

"That was very nice." She purred, reaching down to fondle his surprisingly large organ. "So that was what you were doing with your hands." Lilith chuckled, moving her hands up to strip off his thin gray linen shirt. Doroon stood grinning up at her totally naked now, his thin pale body was nicely muscled, if a little thin. "Climb up here." She ordered patting the flat top of the stone sarcophagus, slowly Doroon slipped up into it, the stone cold and rough against his naked flesh. She pushed him down so he lay on his back, his massive aroused manhood thrusting into the air. "Now it's my turn to do the work." Lilith purred mounting his huge erect fuck pole in one swift smooth action! Doroon trembled in pleasure as she sank all the way down his long shaft. Lilith bounced and jiggled riding the rent boi's pulsing cock. He put his hand's up to steady her and found he was holding her tight round breasts.

"Oh no!" She growled, grasping his wrist's, and pushing the down on the cold stone over his head.

"Wha..." He stuttered.

"I'm in control now whore boi!" She snarled savagely. A tremble, half of fear; half of sexual excitement ran through him, her rough dominant tone arousing him all the more, bending down over him she mutters strange, dark sounding words and suddenly Doroon felt cold bony fingers close around his wrist's, glancing up he realized the skeletal hand's were coming out of the tomb! Panic filled him then, making him buck and struggle to get away. Smiling down at him wickedly, Lilith simply rode his bucking and plunging hips; moaning in pleasure as his huge organ moved within her. Doroon found that his ankles were trapped as well, but couldn't see what it was that was holding them. Hand's held to the tomb above his head, ankles held to it equally as tightly; and Lilith's body weight holding his hip's in place, Doroon realized there was no escape, and so stopped his frantic struggles.

"Wha.. what do you want from me?" Doroon asked fearfully. Lifting herself up off his stiff, still very aroused cock Lilith's wicked smile widened. Swinging one long shapely leg over she slipped off the tomb and knelt down, hands going into the bowl of water up off the floor; she had dropped some uncured rawhide cords into the water several hours before. Standing naked in front of him, she dangled the rawhide cords in his face.

"I just need these!" She answered fondling his huge cock and hefting his ball sac. With a dark grin she tied the wet slimy rawhide around his organs base. Doroon winced, as the strong leather cord was pulled tight around his aroused organ. After looping the cords once around his sack, she wrapped them around each ball, squeezing them into their own separate pouches, then she pulled on the ends; making the rent boi cry out in pain. Doroon's eyes were bulging out in fear, but his long thick cock was still stiffly standing rock hard. After knotting the cords, Lilith smiled and stood up looking into his eyes.

"Lovely!" she purred, bending over to kiss the big purple helmet of his rigid organ. "You should notice the shrinkage very soon." Slowly, Doroon felt the rawhide begin to tighten, making the pain deep within his balls begin to spread as each testicle was squeezed into its pouch, he looked down at his bulging jewels, it seemed as though his orbs would burst out of their restraints, they had turned a dark purple as the blood was trapped within pooled.

"B..but y..you already have them!" He whimpered, as the pain began to twist his guts.

"Yes!" Lilith purred, caressing his huge organ; which was still hard despite the agony. "But I don't just want them...I want to keep them." She admitted giggling naughtily.

"Wha...what are you gonna do?" Doroon asked haltingly.

"First I'm going to wait until they die." She purred in her silky tone. "Then I'm going to cut them off and reanimate them!" She giggled wickedly. "And then.... well let us just say I'm going to be getting a lot of use out of them." She taunted naughtily.

"R..Reanimate..!!"

"Oh honey didn't I tell you? I'm a Necromancer." She slipped her robe completely off, to expose her withered mummified arm. Doroon's eyes widened as he recognized the common mark of the darkest type of magic user. "It seems to excite you, knowing your manhood is dying." She cooed, running her finger along the stiff shaft; as it slowly turned a darker and darker shade of purple. "Knowing you will soon be a total eunuch."

"Please, mistress." Doroon pleaded "Don't take my money maker!" Lilith roared with laughter at this.

"A whore boi like you doesn't need them to do business!" Lilith teased cruelly. "You make money with your mouth and your ass!" She chuckled, watching as his eyes widened in sudden understanding. "However I won't cut you." Lilith said with a thin smile "Until you beg me to do it." She fingered his stiff cock, so purple now it almost appeared black. The twisting, growing pain had spread into his abdomen, and a cold sweat was pouring off his forehead. Lilith smiled and straddled his body once again, her wet dripping sex hovering a fraction above his bloated purple manhood. Slowly she lifted her body over it, and then impaled herself on his extreme hardness; groaning softly as her sex embraced the rigid organ.

"This is your last time." She moaned, sliding her hot tight sex up and down on huge cock. "You last orgasm." She taunted. "So you better enjoy it whore boi!" Despite his agony, Doroon could feel his cum ready to explode into her hot velvety soft sex. Lilith's small tight breasts were bobbing up and down in front of him, and she was fingering her swollen clit with her right hand even as she gripped his chest with her withered mummified left hand, the claws leaving deep red starches in his chest. The intense combination of pain, and pleasure was making Doroon light headed.

"Oh...Fuck... I'm gonna shoot!" Doroon shouted, as he thrust his hips up into her. Lilith sank down the full length of his bloated shaft, sitting painfully on Doroon's trapped balls. He felt his cum spurting inside her in the strongest most powerful ejaculation of his young life. Just as he cried out in orgasm, so did Lilith, Doroon could feel her cunt contracting around his aching cock, milking it of every last drop. She was rubbing her clit frantically, as her pale body trembled in pleasure. He could see her breasts redden with the flush of orgasm, her thick nipples fully erect. Slowly the heat began to subside, their mutual orgasm fading. Lilith rested a long moment, panting for breath as her trembles subsided. Almost gently Lilith released his cock from her hot moist sex, the big semi-hard organ was slick with cum and her own sexual juices. Shockingly it was almost as dark as the cruel Necromancer's eye's. Now that the pleasure had passed, the agony captured the helpless rent boi's full attention, the burning pain now reaching into his chest and up his spine. Lilith climbed down off of him. She inspected his throbbing organs with a surprising tenderness cradling them in her pale cold hand.

"Ahhhhh look at how dark they are!" She purred. "Cold as well! I bet they hurt you terribly right now!" Doroon caught the sadistic gleam in her dark eyes, as she examined his face; she had done this before to other men he was sure. She knew just how terrible the pain was.

"Yes!" He whimpered, his whole body shaking from the terrible agony. The rawhide had cut off the blood completely, his proud manhood was half-dead, but it still would be a long time before the pain subsided and Lilith knew that very well, smiling evilly she reached down beside the bowl and drew her razor edged gelding knife. The blade glittered in the fire light the reflected flames echoing the pain and torment visiting Doroons body.

"It won't be long now." Doroon resisted, he wanted her to release him from the awful pain, but not at that cost! Yet, yet, the castration would be terrible, but at least it would free him from the torment.

"It would only take a second." She purred seductively, as she gently ran the blade around the base of his swollen organs. "A quick clean slice, and you'd feel soooooo much better! All you have to do is ask me." Tears of frustration poured from his eyes, as he moaned in misery. 'The bitch!' He thought. 'She wants me to be responsible.' It wasn't enough that he'd be a eunuch, she wanted to be able to taunt him later; to say that he'd asked her to cut him, that he begged her to do it! "You know you want the pain to end. You know you need me to do it. All it would take is a word from you, and the pain stops. You even get to walk away....." She smiled at him, her seductive grin tempting him. Doroon was sick to his stomach; all he could think about was ending the pain. He knew by now his balls were doomed anyway, even if she untied them, they would never work again, at least he'd be alive, at least he would still work.......his resistance began to break.

"Yes...P...please cut me!" He murmured. Lilith smiled wickedly.

"Pardon? Are you sure? I'm not sure you really mean that."

"Yes!" Doroon wailed tears rolling down his cheek's. Lilith pressed the knife's razor edge into the base of his manhood, making the youth's body jerk at the touch of the blade.

"One more time dear. I want to be convinced you really mean it. Tell me what you want me to do."

"Cut me!" The rent boi screamed. "Cut off my manhood!"

"Now that's what I wanted to hear!" Lilith chuckled evilly.

***

Tristan stood shivering in the cold night mist, as it rolled in off the harbour; covering the city in it's damp grey embrace. It was so thick one could hardly see the street lamps, flickering in there wind proof globes. The dampness soaked through his tunic, making his creamy white skin a mass of goose flesh. He wished he's worn his cloak, but it had been a warm day; and Tristan enjoyed showing off his perfect athlete's body. Suddenly a massive figure loomed up out of the fog, appearing so suddenly it startled the Human.

"Caur Crim." The deep familiar voice rumbled, sounding amused. Ooluk's long powerful arm spring out with a serpent's swiftness, encircling Tristan's waist; and pulling him into a tight embrace. "Yer cold." The big Half Orc snarled angrily, as Tristan nestled close to his big hot body "What yous doin' out here in the cold?" He demanded. "I'z told ya ta wait fer me in there."

"I don't like that.....man." Tristan explained triyng to keep the anger from his voice.

"Oh?" Ooluk asked arching one thick eyebrow. "Why'z that?" The big Half Orc asked as he examined his pet's new piercings, tugging on the nose ring playfully.

"He... spoke ill of you." Tristan answered frowning darkly as he remembered the old sailor's words

.

"Hahaha!" Ooluk roared "Iz thatz all Caur Crim... he'z spoke ill of me?" Pushing open the Human's wet tunic, Ooluk examined the tattoos as well. "If that'z all it take'z then they're aint many you'z goina like in thiz city."

"He likes your money well enough." Tristan fumed.

"They'z alwayz do Caur Crim." Ooluk snickered, obviously in great good humour for some reason. "But come." He ordered clipping a short chain to the ring in Tristan's nose. "We'z goina make me some silver." A shiver ran down Tristan's spine, as he remember the earlier conversation he'd over heard.

Ooluk lead him through the wide straight streets, away from the docks. Passing through the inner city wall they made for the Warrens once more. The Watchmen guarding the gates, glared furiosly at Ooluk as he passed through leading Tristan by the nose; Ooluk grinned back at then wickedly, dropping one huge paw; to cup and squeeze one of Tristan's firm round butt cheeks. Though it was not illegal for an Orc to own a human slave, it was very, very rare. Still the Watchmen didn't say anything and made no trouble, for which Tristan was glad. After they had passed, and rounded a corner Ooluk gaffawed happily. "You'z mine...they'z know it and hate'z it!" He gloated, pulling Tristan tighter against his thickly muscled side; hugging him powerfully with one long arm. The oppressive fog thinned, as they left the dock district behind them; and moved into the warrens proper. Moving round the edge of 'The Dens'- the Orcish section of the ghetto, they went into 'The Borough'- the Dwarvern section. Ahead a massive old fortified manner house loomed up, built long before the city walls had enclosed the district. It was a great grey stone fortress that dominated the low shops; and houses that surrounded it. Tristan was amazed briefly at how well cared for the stone, and iron work looked, then shrugged the Dwarvern shops, and houses always did. Passing through the great arch in the fortress's cliff like walls, they found themselves in a small courtyard. The two heavily armed and armoured Dwarfs guarding the inner doors; smiled and nodded to Ooluk in recognition as they passed. Once inside the entrance hall, Tristan was surprised when Ooluk steered him towards the stairs going up. He'd gotten so use to the under ground Orc pubs, and inns! They climbed for so long that both were sweating, and breathing deeply when they as last crested the stone stairway. In the hallway a finely dressed, pot bellied Dwarf greeted Ooluk cheerfully; moving at once to examine Tristan. He slowly moved around the tall pale skinned youth, a lewd smile splitting his thickly bearded face.

"Oi yer guna be gettin' a pleasin' price fer this one!" The fat Dwarf predicted. "Ell I might jest bid on him myself."

"Iz aint fer salein' him permanent..." Ooluk explained.

"By tha night then...sure'n I am guna be biddin' fer him then!" The pot bellied Dwarf stated firmly, leering over at Tristan; as he did so. "Well yer best be gettin' him ready, ya kin hove yer usual stall."

"Course I can." Ooluk growled, pushing the heavy door open; and leading Tristan into the room beyond. It was a huge round tower top room, and once must have been a powerful defensive postion. But had been opened up and cleaned out, until now it was fanzy tower top pub. The arrow slits that dotted the thick stone walls had been widened, and filled with thick expensive glass. Looking out, Tristan could see the lights of the fog shrouded dark city far below. In the center of the room a small round stage had been constructed, with small wooden stalls lining the walls between the windows. A number of small bars were set up around the stage, each with it's own bartender. Ooluk lead him across the room, to a stall near the largest window. As he followed obediently behind his master, Tristan took note of the other masters and slaves. Most were Dwarfs with Orc's, goblin's, Orgrillion's, and even a slender beautiful half elf slave. Of the few human's within the room, Tristan knew only one. Lord Andulus, a large, fat, and very well known (and very pompous) Merchants Guildmaster from the Riverside district. Tristan had met him more than once at his father's many parties, he'd watched as his father had flattered the pompous Merchant Master. Andulus was very rich, and one of the most powerful Guilds Masters in the city. And now Tristan saw a master of lesser males as well, Andulus had a whole stable of slave boiz. Ducking under Ooluks massive arm, Tristan hid his face from the Guild Master.

***

Custard watched the early morning laborers as they climbed over the Watchtower on Pixie View. The place had been burnt out and abandoned for years, the Watch too scared to come into this part of the Warrens, now it seemed they where on the way back! He snorted to himself and carried on past the construction site, all the workmen where Orcs he noted as he went past, that was defiantly unusual, especially at this time of the morning, normally you couldn't get Orcs out of bed until past midday, or at least that's what Mr. Hardgrave the Butler said. Then again Custard reflected Mr. Hardgrave said plenty of nasty things about Orcs all the time.

He stopped to buy an early morning snack from the nice Mr. Rippler and then scampered into the shelter of a pub's overhang as the rain began to splatter down. He wolfed down the hot meat pie and licked the juices from his small tusks as he waited for the rain to stop

"You're a bit young to be wantin' to come in here aren't you?" A deep male voice said to his right, startling him. Custard looked up into the mud coloured eyes of a tall, well built Orcblood.

"I....I.....didn't mean nothin' mista" Custard stammered. "I woz just sheltering from the rain." The tall man smiled down at the young Half Orc.

"Not a problem." He grinned. The big man looked the kid over, he wore good quality if ripped, trousers, a half on high quality servant's shirt, where a rough area showed an emblem of some kind had been ripped off; the kid was covered in purple bruises, had a black eye, mud covered hair and what looked like a nasty cut on one elbow. "Where you from kid?" the man rumbled.

"Nowhere sir, no wheres ats all, I's live in da Warrens" he answered a bit too quickly.

"Right. And I'm the Lord Justicar" the big man suddenly squatted down so his own Half Orc face was level with the boys. "I don't like to see kids hurt, even ones as tough as us. Has someone been beating you up?" The kid shook his head and lowered his eyes.

"No." He said in a small voice.

"All right kid. Tell ya what, I am genna open up da Hind and put on a nice big cooked breakfast. You can come and join me if ya want. And no I's dont want ya body, ya too young and I'd break ya. Your choice. Food ya be aboot 5 minuets." Without waiting for an answer the big man was gone, stepping through the black painted pub doorway. Custard looked after him- could he trust him? He looked along the big building, it was certainly one of the biggest places he'd seen in the Warrens, if the Half-Orc owned it then surely he couldn't be that bad? Why would he need him? He'd already have a big house and servants and stuff. Custard looked up and down the wet street. There where few people around apart from the vendor, the Orcs on the Watchtower site, and a bunch of Goblins coming his way, the Eldest and one at the front carrying a tall staff.

"Fyalx!" Custard grunted in fear, and quickly bolted into the pub; before he was seen.

Watt placed a plate of meat and eggs in front of the kid and watched from a distance as he wolfed it down. He'd not much communication from him, though he at least had a name now- Custard. Watt slipped at a pint and thought, as Manager he was in charge of the place; could he use this kid anywhere? And why should he? Won't he be out of place in a Buck Bar? Those sort of pleasures could be had further into the Warrens he knew that, and it was not as if he was offering the kid out........hum. He looked at the eating kid again- why didn't he just throw him back out on the streets? It was not as if there where not hundreds of Orc or Orc bloods he could take in if he wanted to. Why this kid? Just then the kid burped and suddenly covered his mouth as if he'd done something wrong. He looked at Watt wide eyed as if he was expecting something to follow. "Better out than in." Watt said with a grin and a wink. Custard just stared at him then eventually went back to eating, eating with a knife and fork like only type is taught- the upper class servants. Watt sighed that was it- the kid reminded him of himself too much, that's' why.

***

Due out of bed soon for his day shift, Jon lay on his bunk, one arm lain over his eyes; feigning sleep. He was forced to do so, since many of the Watchmen he served with now turned to him to slake their lusts. He was after all cheaper than a whore, since he asked for nothing in return, and very easy to come by since he lived within the same barracks, and worse for some reason he could not explain, he was never able to say no to them! A blush of shame spread over his covered face, the humiliations fresh in his mind. They had come in two's and three's at first; come hesitantly, teasingly exposing themselves. Then more brazenly when they found he would never refuse them. Now they were demanding satisfaction like it was their right to make lusty use of him!

He'd thought it was going to be so easy to defeat the old Goblin's curse, one simple vile act of surrender; he'd not understood how it would change him! His attempts with women since had all failed him it was like the insatiable urges he'd felt all his life had suddenly and unexplainably left him. Part of his mind knew the sexual urges had not left him at all, he knew that he became enormously aroused when he sucked cock, and has noticed how he'd always cum when ass fucked. He was a cock slut, but just couldn't explain or accept it. To make matters worse, he knew the other Watchmen had discovered his dark desires, how what they did to him turned him on. He saw how they looked at him, even as they used his body for their pleasure, sometimes he'd overhear them speaking about his sluttish, poofter nature. They all looked at him as weak and effeminate, not to be trusted to pull his own weight in a pinch, and he'd stopped being able to patrol, for no one wanted to partner with the cock slut! His past record as a strong man, his massive body, this arrest record meant nothing anymore, too many of them had heard him moaning under them as they took their pleasure within his willing, open sluthole.

Trapped within the barracks with nothing to do, but service the Watchmen as they came in off the streets, Jon had found himself under constant use and unable... or unwilling to refuse. Things had only gotten worse for him in the last week; he was forced to hide at mealtimes, or he'd end up orally pleasing dozens of men, it was quickly getting so he could not even go to the latrines, without finding himself on his knee's, or his hand's and knee's. He defiantly couldn't go into the barracks baths anymore unless he could find them empty since his obvious ‘come on' stance and admiring stares made the other Watchmen so uncomfortable and somehow horny that they felt compelled to use him to prove to themselves they're own masculinity and more evidence of Jon's sluttish femininity. Jon had quickly discovered such bath encounters quickly turned into gang fucks that could and often did go on for hours. This didn't help the growing disrespect for him and in the last two days a number of his ‘non-customers' in the Watch house where threatening to do everything from castrating him, to filing charges against him and getting him drummed out of the Watch, one even threatened to kill him. Only the fact that his ‘users' out numbered (and in at least one case out ranked) them had kept them in check.

Being the barracks Slut, as his haters had now named him wore on Jon's troubled mind, silently he cursed the old goblin and his magic again and again. To top it all off, the Sergeant had moved him two days ago from simple lookout duties to manning the front desk, a job normally reserved for the oldest most enfeebled, it was a job for someone not strong and healthy.....not Man enough to patrol. It added to the humiliation for Jon to have to do it, to sit behind a desk all day taking reports and complaints. He was a trained and successful Watchman but what could he do? He couldn't say no.........