The air was filled with the hot stench of sweat and something purely sexual, grunts and other jeering deafening to the ear. Rough skin met the smooth of my back, hitting my legs, my ass, each thrust deeper than the last. My body was aching, my shoulders burning with protest as the soldier currently using me pulled my arms behind my back for more leverage, slamming into me with a hearty laugh.

“You like that, you fucking slut? Bet it feels nice to be good for something, huh?”

Words of objection died in my throat as I felt a rush of something hot and sticky inside of me, only serving to fill me up even further. He remained inside as he drained himself, his hips twitching as he milked every last drop only to shove me off with his finish. I fell to the ground, the dirt of the battle-ridden earth scratching at my skin, the pain of it miniscule compared to the way my ass felt as though it were split in two. Ridiculous, considering how often I had done this before. How long I would continue to do this.

The cum inside of me - far too much, far too often to count after soldier number fourteen - oozed out steadily, my weak muscles doing their best to keep me from collapsing. It wouldn’t do any good anyway; the soldiers would continue their assault whether I was awake or not.

A hand grabbed my hair, the sheer size of it making it look as though I were nothing but a dwarf. But, compared to their figures, built with muscles hard as rock and skin as rough as weathered leather, I was nothing if not a parody of their great nature. It was only the green hue of my skin and the small, pathetic fangs that protruded past my upper lip that gave away my true identity as an orc, the slim, lean body of mine more akin to an elf.

I was an anomaly. Something unheard of within our community. And that meant I was useless.

“Don’t think you’re done yet, bitch. You still got a line, so open your fucking eyes and get to work.”


Well. I was. Until the warriors found a use for me.

My hair was pulled forward along with my head, tossed around like a rag doll until I came face to head with the head of a large cock, precum dripping down the front. My handler’s hand was replaced with a soldier’s, his grip tight enough to feel the pull on his scalp. Wordlessly, I opened my mouth; I had learned early on that resisting would only make it worse.

Instantly, my mouth was full of his cock, the stretch of my lips around him making me wince. The salty taste of precum tainted the back of my throat as he wasted no time in forcing himself deep into my mouth with an aggressive growl. Tears sprung in my eyes, blinding my vision as the warrior pulled out only to thrust back in, leaving me to simply endure the torture. Again and again, over and over, his thick cock facefucking me so forcefully I felt as though I would throw up. I knew I wouldn’t be able to speak the next day but that didn’t matter much. Not when talking got me punished anyway.

How much time passed, I was not aware of. Lost in my own head, the orc used me like a toy, the feeling of his dick pulsating in my mouth the only indication of his upcoming orgasm. He ripped me off of his cock, a wet, disgusting pop accompanying the action, and before I could process it he was cumming. Thick, warm ropes of cum hit me, coating my hair and face as he roared with pleasure. I looked up to my handler, one eye closed lest the cum get in my eye, looking for instruction. His hand came up to point at his mouth and I nodded mindlessly, wiping the gunk on my face to lick it off my hand.

A fresh canvas for every soldier.

The orc I had just satisfied left with no words, only a groan of acknowledgement and the relief of having my hair released. Only a moment was allowed to me to relax, to prepare myself, before the large, calloused palms of another was manhandling my hips.

And as another dick too big for my body was shoved inside of me, I was resigned to accept this as my life. My calling. My punishment for being nothing more than a disgrace to my people. For if I couldn’t be useful then I could at least be some fun.