“OI! No greenskins here, especially not you.”Urgran tried hi..

“OI! No greenskins here, especially not you.”

Urgran tried his best to ignore the comment, making his way to a table as the wizard Gideon fished out the needed silver pieces for a room tonight. It was already late, and with nowhere else in Alder City willing or with rooms available, their choices were limited to places they otherwise would have tried to avoid in the human capital. Old lamps and candles flickered as the wizard’s eyes adjusted to the light, looking over the barkeeper to see if he could broker some sort of deal for himself and his Orc friend. Torsten, the barkeeper, was tall and imposing, even more for a human, standing just over 6 feet, his barrel chest barely contained in his ratty runic, jet black hair and scruffy beard making him appear even more sinister. His voice boomed, carrying across the tavern and its dozen patrons.

“You can stay, wizard. But the Orc has to go. I don’t trust his kind.

Gideon swallowed, hoping that the coin he had was enough to convince him, at least for the night. “I’m- I’m afraid it’s both of us, we both need a room.”

The man looked him over. “How do I know your... friend isn’t carrying weapons? Or smuggling something?”

-“I assure you we are just mercenari-“

Torsten licked his lips, placing his hands on his hips as he looked Urgran over. “The armor. Remove it, Orc. Or you can get the fuck out of here with your little... friend.”

Gideon looked over at the Orc, his eyes pleading that he didn’t have to do this. Urgran did as asked, scowling as he removed his cloak, tunic and scabbard, leaving him in just his loincloth and a few scattered pieces of leather armor. The human barkeeper sneered in return, lifting a hand and making a circular motion, the Orc turning around after a moment of hesitation.

Torsten chuckled, making his way across the empty tavern and placing a warm, gruff hand on the Orc’s back. “How do I know you aren’t hiding anything else, hm?” His hands descended downward, looping a finger around the waistband of Urgran’s loincloth, making the Orc quiver slightly at the intrusive, unwelcomed sensation as he faced the table. “I know what that ass can do, Orc. Who says you don’t have anything in there?”

With a quick motion, the loincloth was gone, leaving the Orc utterly exposed, his ass for all to see as the barkeeper continued to move downward, a thick finger moving down his crack and stopping before going any deeper. “From what I’ve heard, you like having things up here. You’re a little, well... big fucking whore for anything you can get, right? That’s what they say in Porthcawl.”

Gideon fumed from the other side of the room, too afraid to say anything as Urgran continued to stare directly into the table, his body already betraying him - His cock was hard, and throbbing with a quiet desperation for more.

“Answer me, Orc!”

Torsten slipped his finger against the Orcs’ entrance, making him grunt in desperation as he dragged the dry digit up and down agonizingly, applying just enough pressure to make his knees buckle as he continued to bend over in submission. Urgran stayed silent, in defiance now, as his cock started to pulse and leak from the sensations hitting him.

“Ya see, everyone? If this Orc doesn’t have anything up his hole, he just spends his time thinking about the next time he can get something!” He pushed harder, almost breaking past the ring as Urgran winced, nails digging into the wooden table. The surrounding patrons laughed, quietly at first, but then with more confidence, as Gideon stayed in the shadows, frozen on what he could do. The barkeeper removed himself, spitting on his finger before diving back inside, causing the Orc to yelp in momentary discomfort as he was unexpectedly penetrated. The patrons of the tavern looked onward, enjoying the entertainment and wondering if they would have a turn next.

The Orc winced, his cock throbbing even harder now, the human finding every spot inside of him that made his head spin.

“He likes it, gentleman! What a good fuckin’ little greenskin.”

Urgran growled, attempting to move away before being shoved back, the singular digit now two, roughly moving inside of his hole and out again, pressing against all of his walls. He let out an involuntary moan, bracing himself as Torsten laughed at his misery. His cock was screaming now, desperate for any touch as he fought the sensations, the pleasure and the ridicule, every inch of his skin hot and desperate, but wishing more than anything for this to not be happening here.

“Ngh.... N-No- Augh!”

Urgran came, shooting out downward from his dangling cock as it splattered against his thighs and ultimately to the wooden floor, pooling under him. The tavern patrons cheered, Torsten pushing one last time before removing himself at last. “Told ya! No bottom can handle my magic touch. Little whore!” The man wiped his hands on his shirt, playing with his own erection for a moment and making his way back to his post behind the bar. “You can have your room for free tonight, Orc. But you’d best not come around here again.”

Gideon emerged at last, collecting the Orc and his things and silently moving away to their room while the patrons continued to laugh and stare at them both. Urgran said nothing, looking down to the floor as they found some privacy at last. Saying nothing, the Orc made his way to the bed, collapsing on his side and facing away, while Gideon laid down on the floor, using his pack and cloak as a makeshift pillow and blanket.

Why didn’t he do anything? Could he have done anything? Gideon felt his eyes burn from disgust at himself, vowing that he had to do something, anything, to make this right…