Note: I realized that there’s a reason I post a chapter or two at a time in a new story, rather than the whole thing all at once. It’s because I tend to jump around between stories if I don’t have one posted first – having a partial story up on my blog helps me to focus. Even if I don’t complete it right away, the mere fact that it’s up here goads me into finishing it…eventually.

I’m in the midst of writing several stories right now and will post more soon. I’ve been working on this one for a while, though, and wanted to give you a taste. There are 30 pages here for your enjoyment and I get down to the sex pretty much right away. The character of Archer is an interesting one for me because I didn’t like him very much at first but he’s grown on me over time and he’s a gateway to my truly favorite character in this story: Keating. (Perez is another but you’ll have to wait a bit before he’s gets his due time in the spotlight.)

In this story, I’ve tried to craft a good plot around some nasty and fun transformations and sex. Hopefully, you approve!

***

Themes: Orcs, Orc transformation, hyper cock growth, humiliation, extreme muscle growth, weight gain, man pussy, clueless

***

Introduction

When their spaceship landed on the verdant, earth-like world of Éire, the colonists thought it was uninhabited by other sentient beings. Were they ever wrong! Almost as soon as the ship touched down on the floodplain of the large river that drained the northern continent, they were besieged by an angry, powerful and nearly indestructible race of monstrous creatures. The beasts were roughly humanoid in form but more animal in terms of behavior. Standing more than eight feet tall and weighing over three hundred kilos, they towered over the comparatively small marines who had been sent to protect the colonists. It was only through the heroics of the commanding officer and his small platoon that the humans gained a toehold on a large island just off the northern peninsula. Unfortunately, the officer and platoon were annihilated in the battle and the colonists were forced to defrost the last remaining marines from stasis. Thus, with only a hundred soldiers to defend a colony of over ten thousand, the colonists’ odds of survival were slim.

Nothing had gone according to plan from the start. The ship had lost contact with its sister vessels and emerged out of hyperspace with barely enough fuel to avoid a crash landing. Given this, escape from the planet was impossible. Further complicating matters, their computer systems malfunctioned due to the rough landing, leaving them with barely enough time to wake everyone from stasis. Something about the atmosphere of the planet rendered electronics unusable and they had no way to communicate with Earth. Worst of all, they discovered that the ship’s AI navigation system had steered them to the wrong planet in the wrong solar system. They were effectively all alone with no hope of rescue.

One hundred years later, the colonists had survived and were managing to eke out a living in the harsh environment. The population had neither increased nor decreased but held steady at the original ten thousand. Life was difficult without modern technology and the small society had regressed backwards to a fiefdom ruled by a tetrarch of warrior kings. These kings were responsible for the survival of the humans and their most important tool in that survival was the island’s topnotch cadre of soldiers. Numbering only in the hundreds, these men–and they were all men because women were required to fulfill their reproductive duties above everything else–were renowned for their toughness and ferocity. Subjected to hours of brutal training each day, they honed their strength and resilience to match that of their sworn enemies, the Orcs. (So named due to their resemblance to the mythical creatures in the JRR Tolkein novels.)

***

Chapter 1

“Did ya hear the news, Sarge?” the new grunt, Perez, gasped as he and Archer wrestled naked in the frigid ocean waters. (Even though Archer was a private like Perez, the new recruits referred to him as Sarge out of respect for his reputation on the base.) Around them, the other men in their unit were likewise naked and divided into opposing teams, vying for victory.

The reason for their violent struggle was the inflated pig’s bladder clutched in Perez’s hands and Archer was intent on getting it away from him at all costs. This was part of their weekly training: A no-holds-barred game of water polo. The winning team received a steak dinner along with bragging rights. The bragging rights were of decidedly lesser value than the steak, though. Meat was rationed and extremely scarce on the island; only nobility had ready access to it.

“What?” Archer demanded, waiting until the boy took a breath and spitting water in his face. Perez choked, giving Archer the advantage. He took it, reaching down to yank hard on the young man’s testicles. Caught by surprise, Perez yelped and dropped the bladder. Archer grinned, twisting his hand cruelly and pulling the boy’s head underwater.

He released the kid’s nuts after a few seconds but not before he felt his cock harden in his grip. Letting go, Perez emerged sputtering and seemingly enraged by Archer’s trickery. “No fair, Sarge!” he yelled as Archer calmly took possession of the ball and aimed it precisely at the opposing team’s goal. The throw was good and he scored for the win.

His teammates let out a ragged cheer and Archer pumped his fist, looking back at the hapless Perez. “Did ya forget?” he taunted. “There ain’t no rules here. That’s the point: Use yer brains and brawn to destroy your opponent no matter what it takes. That’s what the fuckin’ Orcs do and it’s what we marines do even better!”

He followed this with a thunderous whoop of victory that was soon echoed by his teammates. The opposing team glowered back at them, stomachs already missing the precious protein that they would not consume. Perez watched Archer with a sour expression but soon his eyes softened with hero worship. It was common knowledge that he’d wanted Archer to take him on as his shield brother. What he didn’t realize, though, was that Archer already had a young shieldmate and no one could ever get between them.

Archer was the top marine on the island, a man of unparalleled valor, strength and ferocity. His brawny body was heavily scarred, heavily tattooed and heavily muscled. At the age of twenty seven, he’d fought more battles against the Orcs than anyone else in the company, save for Prince Yamato. His looks–and enormous cock–were as legendary as his mettle and he had a coterie of male admirers on base. He remained loyal, though, to his shield brother, Keating, who had replaced Prince Yamato when the prince married Princess Oyende. Both Keating and Yamato, however, had been gone for more than two years on a mission to negotiate a truce with the largest of the Orc clans.

Perez and Archer bobbed in the waves for a while after the other marines headed back to the boat. (Their commander always let them take their time after a water polo game, giving them a little respite from training.) The ocean waters were icy and the emerald waves were rising but the pair barely noticed. To a casual observer, it looked like they were having a friendly conversation but, beneath the surface of the water, Perez had Archer’s big, thick cock in his grip. This was one of the victor’s prerogatives: Sexual favors from the losing team. Archer intended to collect on this debt as soon as he returned to base but Perez was eager to repay him right now.

“What–Ngh!–were ya gonna tell me?” Archer asked, eyes rolling back in his head as Perez pulled back his long foreskin and teased his glans with a finger.

“They caught an Orc with Prince Yamato’s signet ring.”

“WHAT!?”

“Shhh, hold it down!” Perez warned, glancing around to be sure no one overheard. “No one’s ‘sposed to know. I only found out because I was on duty last night when a bunch of guards showed up. I heard ‘em say the prince’s name.” He stroked Archer’s cock as he said this, praising, “Shit, Sarge! Your cock is fuckin’ HUGE! How big is it anyway?”

“A lot bigger than yers,” Archer bragged. “And keep at it. That’s a real man-sized cock ya got in yer hand, not a little peanut like you got between yer legs. Where’d ya learn to jack like that anyway? Yer little nub must be bruised if ya beat off like this.”

“Sorry, Sarge!” Perez chirped, redoubling his efforts to pleasure him. “I’ve never held a cock this big before! I’ll be gentler!”

Archer sighed, throwing his head back in the water and relaxing into Perez’ grip. Perez was actually quite good at handjobs. Not as good as Keating but, with the proper instruction, he could improve. 

Ah, Keating, he thought, dreaming of his boy. I miss his hands on my cock!

“Sorry! Did I hurt you? I’m really sorry!”

Archer cracked an eyelid, realizing he’d just moaned loudly. The thought of Keating’s firm, muscular body did that to him. “No,” he grunted, “just keep at it! I’m almost there!” 

“OK, Sarge!” Perez tightened his hold on Archer’s shaft, resuming his gentle jacking. Archer groaned with happiness, imagining it was Keating gripping his big man-cock and not Perez. It wasn’t long before he was ready to explode.

At the last second, just as his ass muscles were contracting with the impending orgasm, Perez dove beneath the water and took Archer’s big cock in his mouth. Archer’s eyes went wide both in ecstasy and disbelief. It was unheard of for a marine to put another man’s cock in his mouth. By doing so, Perez had just branded himself as a cocksucker. While male-on-male sexual activity was condoned as a tool for building unit cohesion among the homosocial marines, there were strict rules around it.

One of those rules was that a marine must never take another soldier’s cock in his mouth. It was considered both disgraceful and repugnant. It was almost as bad as kissing on the lips and just a couple steps above the ultimate no-no among marines: Anal sex.

Archer’s cock spasmed, filling Perez’ mouth with potent seed. Despite being underwater, the boy showed no sign of letting go and continued to suck on his cock until he’d thoroughly drained Archer’s long hose. Only then did he emerge from the waves, grinning from ear to ear. His eyes shone with the light of victory and Archer realized with a shock that the boy actually got off on debasing himself. He found it almost as repulsive as it was titillating. Keating would never do something like that!

“There’s more where that came from if you make me your shieldmate,” Perez promised, winking. “Sarge.” He said the word as if it was both an honorific and something that made Archer his equal.

Archer could only stare at him in bewildered surprise. His big cock was still throbbing and he half wanted to push the boy’s head back underwater to have him suck him off again. He’d never even imagined having another guy suck his dick and, now that he’d enjoyed the pleasure, he wanted more. Somehow, though, he got himself under control and, turning, stroked back to the bobbing boat where the rest of their company was already getting dressed.

***

True to form, Archer refused to put on clothes and rode in the boat completely naked back to the harbor. The marines occupied a restricted corner of the island that was off limits to women. Nudity was commonplace in the milder seasons but almost unheard of in the winter. Archer, however, was a law unto himself and proudly strode around the base naked at all times and in all weather, his long, thick cock slapping against his thighs. His cock was impressively large even with the significant shrinkage of swimming in the icy ocean and he put every other man to shame. Of course, this was his point: He wanted everyone to know he was superior in every way, especially when it came to his endowment. Of all of the men on the base, only his half brother, Tanu, came close to rivaling his great size and even Tanu fell short.

Archer was considered a living god but officers and soldiers alike. Weighing over three hundred pounds and standing just shy of six and a half feet tall, he embodied the role. He was incredibly broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted. His thighs were bigger than tree trunks and his legs were longer than most women. 

It was his face with its broad, rugged features that truly captured men’s hearts. He epitomized classical male beauty with strong features, piercing green eyes and heavy jaw that was always clenched as if he were ready for action. The scars–especially the ragged one running from his left eye to his cheek–and the numerous tattoos covering his body only added to his prowess. Men made way for him and rooms fell silent when he walked in.

If it was just his appearance that was impressive, Archer would never have occupied the rarified top stratum of godhood among the marines. He was also a ruthless combatant, possessing an almost maniacal disregard for his own safety. When he fought against the Orcs, he was overcome with a bloodlust that left him cleaving swaths through their ranks. He was always the vanguard of the assault, single-handedly piercing through the Orcs’ defensive line and clearing the way for his fellow marines to enter the fray. He was the first marine in over a hundred years to earn a moniker from the Orcs and he wore it with pride. They called him, ‘Gijak Pizas,’ the rough translation of which was Blood Guzzler.

Unfortunately, his reputation had worked against him when Yamato chose the soldiers to accompany him on the diplomatic mission. “The Orcs fear you,” he’d said to Archer, placing a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezing. “That’s why I’m taking Keating instead. He’s a skilled warrior, true, but unlike you he truly believes in peace.” Archer had scowled angrily and Yamato had chucked him under the chin, grinning. “Easy, boy. You’re not too big for me to take over my knee.” 

This had the desired effect on Archer–Archer had a thing for corporal punishment; it had been one of his and Yamato’s favorite roleplays–and the prince lowered his hand to squeeze his hulking penis before standing on his tiptoes to plant a kiss on Archer’s brow. “Now be a good boy while I’m away, Ok? And I’ll promise to return your beautiful lover to you unharmed.” He’d glanced over Archer’s shoulder where Keating could be seen waiting, tears filling his big, brown eyes. Dropping Archer’s penis, he turned and left, leaving him to the tearful goodbye. Letting Keating go on a perilous mission had nearly broken Archer’s notorious resolve. After more than two years away, his heart still ached painfully for the young man’s return.

He felt Perez’ eyes on him the whole way back to the harbor and had to work hard to keep his cock from standing up with a super-sized erection. Being sucked off had left him shaken and aroused. He couldn’t decide if he was more turned on by the sensation of Perez’ warm, soft mouth enfolding his massive man-meat or the forbiddenness of the experience.

The rules of homosexual conduct were well known to every marine. When he entered the marine corps at age sixteen, each new recruit was taken as a shield brother by a senior soldier. The pair were encouraged to do everything together and became a de facto couple for the next seven years. The younger man served the older man, doing his laundry, bathing him and cleaning up after him. They slept together in the same bunk and helped each other ‘relieve sexual tension’ with certain condoned techniques. 

In return, the older man tutored the younger one in the arts of warfare. He would subject the boy to rigorous training, pushing him beyond his limits and shaping him into a hardened warrior. In battle, the duo fought together. the younger man bearing the shield of the older one. When the young man turned twenty-three, he would be free to select a new recruit to serve as his shield brother, starting the process over again. The older man, now aged thirty, would retire from the marines and marry a woman. He was then expected to sire offspring to bolster the island’s meager population.

The bond that a soldier formed with his shield brother was deep and profound and usually lifelong. Although any sexual contact between them ceased when the older man married, most shield brothers remained close. They helped each other form lucrative alliances and often shared in business dealings. The effect of their primal bond was credited with the survival of the colony on the island.

Back at the base, Archer disembarked from the boat, filing off the transport vessel with the other men of his company. He ignored Perez’ call behind him and continued marching forward. As much as his cock wanted him to turn around and find a private spot to continue their amorous antics, he had pressing business on his mind. He returned to the barracks and pulled on a baggy pair of underwear, ignoring the knowing glances of his fellow soldiers.

“Looks like Archer’s gonna go see Mommy,” Philips teased, earning a sharp slap on the stomach from Archer. Far from cowed, Philips taunted, “Haha! The only time Archie ever covers up his big man is when he visits Mommy!” 

Archer glowered as the rest of the company picked up Philip’s laughter. Soon the barracks was roaring as everyone took delight in seeing their alpha taken down a peg. Archer hated it but was powerless to stop it. One thing he’d learned at an early age is that men needed to make fun of their leaders almost as much as they needed to fear them.

He stalked out, feeling his broad shoulders burning with embarrassment. It galled him that the men in his unit had correctly deduced his destination. Yes, he was heading to the one person who could confirm the rumor of Yamao’s signet ring falling into the hands of the Orcs: His mother, the base physician.

While the marine base was restricted to men, there were a couple of exceptions, one being the military doctor…who happened to be his mother. Archer had never met his father and was raised by his mother in a little room adjacent to the compound. Maybe it was the lack of a male authority figure in his life that drew him to the marines? 

His earliest memories were of hanging out with the soldiers, trying to keep up with their drills and generally playing the role of camp mascot. The men had doted on him, giving him all of the attention he craved and teaching him many valuable lessons. By the time he enlisted at sixteen, he’d already been a shining star. When Prince Yamato chose him as his shieldmate, his mother had been so proud.

Today, he was forced to wait in the drafty waiting room outside her office until she’d finished surgery. One of his men had broken a leg during battle drills and the spiral fracture required surgery. It was a nasty break and she was sagging on her feet by the time she emerged from the OR, still clad in her bloody surgical gown. Her smile, though, was warm when she spotted him. 

She motioned for him to follow her, opening the door of her office and ushering him inside. He waited patiently while she undressed behind a scrim and bathed in a frigid shower. She looked much more awake when she emerged, patting her graying hair dry with a towel and grinning impishly at him.

“I didn’t realize you still knew how to wear clothes,” she teased, indicating his underpants. “Did you get cold or is there another reason you decided to cover up?”

“It’s a little drafty out,” he replied with a small shrug, not willing to admit to being modest.

Her smile deepened. She was a tall woman–close to six feet tall–with a slight, wiry build. She’d once told him that he took more after his father but had refrained from elaborating. Archer was dying to know more about his dad but she refused to say. Even though he found her silence on the topic infuriating, it did let imagine that every powerful man he met could be his father.

“Mom,” he began, hunching his hulking shoulders as if trying to make himself smaller. His mother had this effect on him; he always regressed to being a little boy in her presence. “Can you–?”

“Hush,” she said, pulling on a sweater and a small pair of gloves. She took a seat behind her desk, a beat-up affair made of molded metal. “I know why you’re here and I know what you’re going to ask.” (The base lacked central heating, any heating in fact. Fuel was in short supply on the island and, like the eating of red meat, only the very wealthy could afford to heat their homes. Plus, the marines eschewed anything that might be construed as coddling; they were tough men after all.) 

“Yamato.”

She nodded. “Yes, it’s true. They captured an Orc who had the prince’s ring,” she held up her hand forestalling Archer’s next question, “He’s being held in the tower under heavy guard…for good reason.”

“Can you get me in?” Archer growled, pounding a fist on the desk. “I got questions. Lotsa questions.”

His mother gave him a dark look. “I can’t do that.” When he sighed in exasperation, she soothed, “It’s for your own good, John.” The only person who ever called him by his first name was his mother. “However,” she added with a sly wink, “I do know that Tanu is assigned to guard the entrance of the tower tonight.” He sighed with relief and was preparing to stand when his mother stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “John,” she warned. “Be careful, don’t get caught, and–” she held a finger in his face, “please do not harm the prisoner. We need him alive until we learn what has happened to Yamato.”

Archer clenched his wide jaw. The name that his mother hadn’t said hung in the air between them: Keating. “I can’t promise anything,” he grunted. “It’s an Orc after all.”

He stalked out, his mother shaking her head behind him. 

***

Archer approached the tower that evening after sneaking away from his team’s celebratory dinner. His stomach was pleasantly full of rich, juicy steak but he was nonetheless on edge. He couldn’t stop worrying about Yamato. If an Orc had his ring, that meant the prince was either being prisoner. 

Or dead. 

Archer tried hard not to dwell on the latter possibility but it haunted his thoughts. He didn’t know who he was more worried about, the prince or Keating. Fuck, if they’d just listened to him and refused to go on that stupid diplomatic mission! Everyone knew that you couldn’t reason with animals…and that’s exactly what the Orcs were.

Yamato was the best and strongest warrior that Archer had ever met…next to Keating, of course. He was also gentle and kind. Not until he’d left on the diplomatic mission did Archer understand how lucky he was that Yamato chose him as his shieldmate. The prince had pledged his love the day Archer joined the marines and then whisked him away for a blissful sexual union under a thin coverlet in his bunk. 

Archer shivered, remembering the feeling of Yamato’s long, thick member sliding between his thighs. As shieldmates, intercrural sex was the primary way that the older lover showed his affection for his younger mate. It was therefore common for the older marines to tease the younger ones about the calluses between their thighs. 

Yamato had taught him everything, instructing him on the techniques and theory of combat. Under his excellent tutelage, Archer had grown into manhood. Yamato had literally made him the man he was. And it was thanks to Yamato that Archer had been bonded to Keating. “I found your new boy,” Yamato had told him one night–their last night as lovers, Archer was soon to find out. “Take care of him, Archie.” Yamato kissed him on the forehead because kissing on the lips was strictly forbidden. “And think of me when you’re teaching him. That will make me happy.” Archer had clung to him, stifling his sobs against Yamato’s firm shoulder as his shieldmate kissed him one last time and then departed the base forever.

The memory of that last night together still brought a tear to Archer’s eye. Yes, even though he loved Keating more than anyone else, his heart had belonged first to Yamato and that would never change. Oh, how he missed them! And how he hoped they were alright!

Just as his mother had predicted, his brother, Tanu, was standing adroitly at the entrance to the tower. Archer gave a start when he recognized the other soldier beside him; it was Perez. He’d thought the boy would still be back in the mess tent but, as a member of the losing team, Perez didn’t win a steak dinner and had probably volunteered for guard duty to keep his mind–and stomach–distracted.

Tanu stood at attention as he sauntered up, offering a crisp salute before he realized who he was. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, relaxing. Beside him, Perez was still saluting…with a mischievous grin plastered on his pretty face. Clearly, the boy thought Archer was here to see him. Less impressed by Archer than Perez, Tanu slung his sword over his shoulder and leaned against the wall. Both he and Perez were wearing their full uniforms because they were on duty; Archer couldn’t help thinking his younger brother filled his out nicely.

He and Tanu had a complicated relationship but were mostly on good terms. Unlike Archer whose father’s identity was unknown, Tanu’s father was never in doubt: He was the son of King Oyende and therefore was half brother to Princess Oyende, Yamato’s wife. This notoriety made Tanu somewhat of a celebrity on base. 

The word ‘bastard’ was never uttered in his presence. In fact, the word didn’t exist in the islanders’ vocabulary. Because their tiny enclave’s population was always hanging in the balance, every child was precious regardless of his parentage. The fact that Tanu was the son of one of the kings only added to his reputation.

Archer knew he was taking a risk by approaching Tanu while he was on duty but he trusted Tanu wouldn’t report him. The fact that the other guard was Perez–a boy who had an undisguised attraction to Archer–also helped. He could feel Perez’s eyes on his body, especially on his huge cock. Tanu’s eyes, too, were glued to his member. (Archer had removed his underpants as soon as he left his mother’s office.)

“Well?” his brother pressed. “Are you juss gonna stand there with yer big cock wagging in the breeze or will you tell us why yer here?”

Archer sat back on his heel, subtly thrusting out his crotch. Both Tanu and Perez’s gazes sharpened. “I was hoping, uh, ya know, you could lemme inside.”

“What?!” Tanu hissed, alarmed. “I can’t do that!”

Tanu, Archer realized, had grown into a very handsome young man. Five years his junior, Tanu had always suffered under his big brother’s shadow but now Archer could tell he’d finally come into his own. He might not be quite as tall and wasn’t quite as muscular but he did possess a certain charisma. The fact that he was very good looking didn’t hurt. Tanu’s curly, black hair was plaited into tight cornrows under his helmet and his cinnamon-colored eyes matched his pleasing cinnamon-colored skin. His wide nose was shapely, accenting his full lips, and he possessed a sharp chin and narrow cheekbones like their mother. Yeah, Archer decided, Tanu’s hot. Really hot.

Archer didn’t reply with words. Instead, he sidled up to them, leaning seductively against the wall. He then did the one thing that he knew drove Tanu insane: He lifted his beefy arm over his head and exposed his very hairy, very fragrant armpit. His potent, musky scent wafted through the air, tickling Tanu’s nostrils. Archer smiled smugly as those wide nostrils flared and Tanu’s expressive eyes glazed over. Beside him, Perez’s nose did the same thing but his eyes had been glazed over from the moment he first spotted Archer.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised, pitching his voice low for maximum effect. He glanced down at his magnificent appendage; it was already standing up from his thick, wooly pubes.

“Yer a fucker!” Tanu swore but he was already unbuttoning his pants. In a moment, he’d pulled out his really long, really hard, really fat cock. He wasn’t as gifted as Archer below the belt but he nonetheless towered over everyone else on base in that region of his body. 

Perez had already dropped his pants to expose his little dicklet. He might be on the small side but he made up for it with his eagerness and his cute, juicy foreskin. (Archer had a thing for foreskins.)

The two men came at him with gusto. Predictably, Tanu buried his face in Archer’s stinky armpit and Perez took Archer’s massive cock in his hands. Soon, Archer’s pits and cock were being worshiped by the two men. Tanu’s armpit fetish had been known to Archer ever since he’d awakened one night ten years ago to find the kid wuffling his pits. 

For his part, Perez’s cock-handling skills had already improved since that morning. With Tanu tonguing his right armpit and Perez manhandling his cock, Archer consented to do the usually unthinkable for him: He spit into his hand and grabbed Tanu’s dick, slicking back his long foreskin and treating him to a rare handjob. Archer, as the base alpha, prided himself on being pleasured by other men and he never returned the favor unless he was with Keating…or he wanted something in return.

They climaxed in unison, Perez fingering his little penis while Tanu and Archer stroked each other, their big cocks spewing semen in all directions. Afterwards, Tanu nestled into Archer’s armpit and Perez snuggled against him. Their bodies were sweaty and their breath was ragged. The smell of man-musk filled the air. 

It was divine! 

This was one of the main reasons Archer loved being a marine. He was already sad that he would be forced into retirement in three years and then he would have to resign himself to marrying and producing children. What drudgery!

“Here,” Tanu offered, jingling his keys. “But be quick. An officer could come by at any moment and then my ass would be in a sling.”

“Thanks, bro,” Archer mumbled, accepting the keys and giving Tanu one last sniff of his pits. He mussed Perez’s buzz cut and planted a kiss on the top of his head before sauntering off. Reaching the door to the tower, he turned the key in the lock and stepped inside. The heavy door swung shut behind him with a definitive clang. 

***

Chapter 2

Archer had been in the tower before; it was where the tetrarchs held Orc prisoners for interrogation. With the tenuous truce between the Orcs and humans, though, it had been a while since he’d had occasion to visit. His memories of the place were grim and bloody. Usually, when he came here, it was to torture a captive in order to extract tactical information. Because Orcs were notoriously battle-hardened and averse to pain, the ordeal was almost always prolonged and unpleasant. 

Archer had watched Prince Yamato torturing a young Orc soldier on his first day as a marine and the memory would never leave him. The horrible beast had been hard to break and he’d left the tower feeling his hatred toward the Orcs deepen even as his admiration for Yamato grew. Yamato was steadfast, efficient and merciless, all qualities he’d inspired in Archer.

The massive stone building was silent and dark. He had to light a torch in order to see. When the flame guttered to life, he could make out the spiral staircase that swept up the interior of the tower. He climbed it, passing by empty prison cells at each level. The place grew progressively darker and more sinister the higher he went. The top cells were where the tetrarchs kept their most important captives and these were outfitted with particularly nasty implements of torture. When he reached the top level–the first time he’d made it this far in the tower–he found himself standing before a locked steel door. There was a small window in the door and he quietly peered inside.

He groaned with disappointment. Two guards waited in front of the largest cell. He hadn’t expected there would be more guards! He kicked himself for being so dense. He was only a dumb jarhead after all and had never been known for his intelligence. Keating–and Yamato before him–had always been the brains behind his brawn. Being alone made him realize how unsuited he was for stealthy reconnaissance. How was he going to get through the locked door and past the guards? He couldn’t vamp his way past them like he’d done with Tanu and Perez. From their uniforms, he recognized them as castle guards, not marines, and they were therefore unknown to him. Who knew if they even liked a big cock? It was a given among marines but he’d heard that the castle guards were prudes and their corps didn’t have the same proud tradition of love between soldiers.

As he stood there debating, he heard the loud clang of the downstairs entry door as it swung open. This was followed by the heavy tread of steel boots. He had just enough time to extinguish his torch and take refuge in an empty cell before two more castle guards marched up the steps. It must be shift change, he thought, watching them carefully through the bars of the cell. 

The new guards unlocked the door at the top of the stairs and, critically, left it ajar behind them. Once they entered the top level, he could hear them conferring with the other guards. This was his chance, he realized, heart thudding inside his chest. Risking everything, he crept through the open door and quickly darted inside the alcove just inside. (Archer was a big dude but he could move quickly and quietly when needed.) The alcove was a narrow space and he had to squeeze his giant form into it but he fit–just barely.

The guards hadn’t spotted him but, once tucked inside the alcove, Archer realized he had nowhere to go. If they didn’t leave, he might have to hide there for a very long time. He started sweating and his potent musky scent filled his nostrils. It was so potent he worried that the other guards would smell him as well. (Archer’s man-musk was legendary and very distinctive. He was always stinky, even when he showered and applied liberal amounts of deodorant. That musky scent and his big cock were two of the things that stood out about him, apart from his bravery in combat, of course.)

As if on cue, he heard one of the guards ask, “Hey, guys? Do you smell that? It smells like–”

Archer started to panic but the guard never finished because at that moment a sharp whistle rang out from down below. He recognized it as an alarm, one that usually signified that the base was under attack. The guards immediately sprang into action, charging down the stairs and leaving Archer by himself. 

He heaved a sigh of relief, thanking the gods for saving his ass. Unfolding his great body from within the confines of the alcove, he approached the giant, reinforced door that the men had been guarding. His eyes lit up when he saw that in their haste to leave, they’d left the keys hanging nearby. He picked up the heavy ring and tried several keys before he found the one that fit. With shaking hands, he opened the door.

He had to relight his torch because the room was dark. He’d barely stepped inside when he heard the sound of deep, guttural breaths. A pungent and instantly recognizable odor hit him: Orc. He braced, hand instinctively going to the dagger in the hilt on his thigh. When he turned and saw the…creature…hanging from heavy chains on the steel wall beside him, he inhaled sharply, his buzzed hair standing on end.

It was the biggest, greenest and ugliest Orce he’d ever seen. The beastlike creature was slumped over, held upright by the thick chains around its arms and ribcage. Even so, it loomed more than seven feet tall and was wider than an oxen. Lank, greasy, black hair hung down over its repugnant face. Enormous tusks thrust out from its lower mandible, making it look exceedingly porcine.  Its brow was sloping, its nose was basically a snout and its ears were sharply pointed. 

The creature’s entire body was warty and malformed, especially its crotch. Archer sneered with distaste when he beheld the mammoth outline of the beast’s male appendage straining against the filthy confines of its loincloth. Its big, green belly hung down over the lumpy mound of its genitalia. Its body was replete with muscles but they were oversized, ungainly and misshapen. Everything about the beast was the caricature of a well-formed human male’s symmetry and musculature. Gazing upon it, Archer felt his lip wrinkle with distaste. All Orcs should be castrated and then killed, he thought grimly. It would make this world a better place. 

He gripped his dagger, contemplating ending the savage beast’s life. He was stepping forward to do just that when the Orc opened its black eyes and fixed him with its fiery orange pupils.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRR-CHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR,” it rumbled in a guttural roar that sent green spittle flying out of its ugly maw. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-CHERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!”

He froze, still brandishing the blade. How did this beast know his name? If it had used his moniker, Gijak Pizas, he would have understood because he was well-known to (and feared by) the Orcs of Éire. But ‘Archer’? How did this ugly brute even know how to speak Common?

It didn’t matter. He was here for one reason and one reason only: To find out what happened to Yamato. He held the dagger against the beast’s warty throat, hissing in the Black Speech, “Where the fuck is the Prince? What did you do to him?”

The Orc blinked dully at him, ugly maw hanging open. 

It didn’t understand him.

Huh? How was that possible?

Archer was aware that there were different dialects of the Black Speech but, as far as he knew, none of them were so different that the clan members of different tribes couldn’t understand each other. Unlike his peers in the marines, he was somewhat familiar with the tongue, having learned the Speech from his mother. In turn, she’d learned it as a young woman, sneaking off the island to study herbs and natural medicines on the mainland. During that time, she’d apprenticed to an Orc healer, a story that still repulsed Archer when he thought about it. His mother was an odd woman, sharing Keating’s crazy belief in the eventual coexistence of humans and Orcs. 

Yamato was not like that.

Yamato hated the Orcs and had only embarked on the diplomatic mission under duress from his father than the other tetrarchs. Privately he confided in Archer, ‘How can you negotiate with animals?’ His lip had curled as he spat, ‘They’re nothing more than stupid monsters!’

Archer agreed. In all of his life and during the many battles he’d fought against the Orcs, he’d only witnessed their barbarity and ruthlessness. Yamato had been too kind, he realized. Orcs weren’t even on the level of an animal; they were worse.

Still unable to believe the Orc didn’t understand him, he repeated his demand, more forcefully this time. The filthy beast merely stared at him helplessly, a pleading look in its beady eyes. It kept straining against its bonds, moaning, “ARRRRRRRRRRRRRR-CHERRRRRRRRRR! PLEEEEEEEEEZE! ARRRRRRRRRR-CHERRRRRR! MEEEEEEEEEE NOOOOOOO ORRRRRRRRRKKKKK!”

“SHUT UP!” Archer shouted, pressing his blade so fiercely against the creature’s neck that emerald green ichor spilled out of the wound. “I should fucking kill you now! Here’s yer last chance: Tell me how you got Yamato’s ring now or I’ll fuckin’ kill you!”

In answer, a great, green tear welled up in the corner of the repulsive monster’s eye. It trickled down its pock-marked cheek, eventually mixing with the ichor draining out of the wound on its neck. Archer clenched his jaw, unmoved, and was preparing to slice the Orc’s throat wide open when the sounds of chaos erupted from down below. He was high up in the tower but he nonetheless had no trouble recognizing the deep bark of Tanu’s voice. 

His brother was in trouble!

Cursing, he withdrew the knife and prepared to leave. Before he did, though, he left the hated Orc with a little memento of his visit, slamming his fist into the monster’s jaw. With profound pleasure, he felt its bones crumble. It wailed in pain, a look of profound hurt and betrayal etched in its disgusting visage.

Archer spat on the ground at the creature’s splayed feet and marched out of the room.

***

He managed to exit the tower without being seen. Luck–and Tanu–had his back that night. In hindsight, he realized he owed his brother in a big way; the dude had saved him from a certain court martial. When he made it to the bottom of the steps, the front door to the tower was wide open and a scene of complete confusion reigned in the courtyard outside. In the center of it was Tanu.

His brother was yelling at the top of his lungs, face red and eyes bugged out. Archer had never seen him so enraged. It took him a moment to understand the cause of his brother’s distress: He was being dragged off by a full battalion of the castle guard. They surrounded him, brandishing their swords. Several burly men were trying to subdue Tanu, their efforts being met with stiff resistance from the young soldier.

Marines, alerted by Tanu’s screams of protest, were streaming into the courtyard. No officers were present yet and, in their absence, the men were inclined to defend one of their own. Several had already started a melee on the edges, pounding their fists into the unarmored castle guards’ bellies. (The guards must have been mustered quickly and many of them lacked even the rudiments of armor.) The marines had earned their ferocious reputation justly and, one on one, they were more than a match for the relatively pampered guardsmen. 

As Archer watched, however, another cadre of guards showed up, this one much better armed and armored. He clenched his fists, realizing that the marines were about to be routed. His fellow soldiers must have realized this, too, because–like true marines–they redoubled their efforts to kick the guards’ asses. Clenching his fist and dying to spill some blood, Archer prepared to jump into the fray.

Before he could do so, however, a cold voice rang out, “STOP!”

Archer spun around, eyes widening; it was Princess Oyende.

The princess was accompanied by a coterie of her personal guards, their polished armor shining brightly in the dim light of the courtyard. Tall, regal, and beautiful, she was an imposing figure and possessed a commanding tone that carried through the din. Instantly, the fighting stopped and everyone fell silent.

“Release my brother,” she ordered, gesturing at Tanu. Archer blinked, sometimes he forgot that Tanu and the princess shared the same father.

The guards holding Tanu obeyed, dropping Tanu from their clutches. Tanu straightened and, brushing off his torn uniform, squared his shoulders and gave his sister a crisp salute.

The princess inclined her head slightly before turning on the guards. “Where is your captain?” she demanded, searching their ranks. “I need an explanation for this stupidity. Why are you trying to take my brother prisoner?”

The gathered marines cheered loudly at this, glad that the princess was on their side, but they fell silent when the Oyende raised her hand sharply. Her eyes were flinty and it was clear from her demeanor that she was in no mood for games.

“My Lady!” one of the guards called out, detaching himself from the company. “My apologies!” He bowed deeply and, when he straightened, Archer saw that he bore a captain’s insignia. “This man, I mean, your brother was caught in an act of betrayal. He blew the alarm whistle when there was no attack!”

Tanu looked down at the man from his lofty height with disdain etched on his handsome features. “When I blew the whistle,” he stated firmly in his defense, “I thought an attack was imminent but I was wrong. It was a simple mistake.”

The captain drew himself up to this full height (which was still several inches shorter than Tanu), taking umbrage despite the quelling presence of the princess. Before he could dispute Tanu, though, Princess Oyende held up her hand, silencing him.

“Are soldiers not allowed to make mistakes?” she asked, her voice holding an edge. “If this marine,” she gestured toward Tanu, “believed the island was under attack, then he must have had good reason. Now, release him.”

The captain’s protest died in his throat when he beheld Oyende’s imperious gaze. Swallowing hard, he saluted and, ordering his guards to form up, retreated from the courtyard. The marines were disciplined soldiers and dearly wanted to glory in the guards’ humiliation but they remained silent out of respect. This was more for the princess’s sake than anything else.

When the guardsmen were gone, Oyende turned to the marines and, her tone much more polite this time, said, “Thank you for defending my brother’s honor. You may go now.”

They smiled and left, laughing and bragging about getting the better of all those effeminate yokels in the castle guard.

The princess waited until they had left before narrowing her eyes at Tanu and Archer. “You two!” she huffed. “I hope I didn’t just risk my reputation on a stupid lark of yours.” She rounded on Archer, pointing to the tower and demanding, “Please tell me that you found out something useful in there.”

Archer swallowed. “Uh, how’d ya know I was in there, my Lady?”

“Please, Archer! You think I don’t know you?” She rolled her eyes. “We share the same brother! Of course, I knew you’d sneak into the tower once you heard about Yamato’s ring.”

Tanu nodded in agreement, folding his arms, and Archer hunched his great shoulders, chagrined. He didn’t realize he was so transparent! “I’m sorry, My Lady,” he croaked. “I didn’t learn anything. The beast didn’t understand the Black Speech.”

“Or maybe you just slaughtered the pronunciation,” Tanu muttered, looking pleased with himself. Archer scowled but didn’t contradict him. He knew better than to do so in front of Princess Oyende.

Oyende studied his face, trying to determine if he was holding anything back. Finally, she shrugged and turned on her heel, saying over her shoulder, “I’ve heard that Private Keating has been spotted in an Orc encampment just across the river. The tetrarchs are planning to send the marines over to…investigate.”

“WHAT?!” he sputtered, heart clenching. “Is he Ok? They haven’t hurt him, have they?”

The princess looked back at him over her shoulder, a wry smile on her face. “Are you worried about him? Ha! I wonder why?” 

She laughed at his panicked expression before sauntering away to leave him besieged with worry for his boy. There was nothing he could do about it, though. This was Princess Oyende after all. It’s not like he could grab her by the shoulders and shake the news out of her. Besides, Archer might be dumb but even he was smart enough to know when the princess was yanking his chain. She and Tanu were very alike in that way. No, all he could was grit his teeth and stand there in agony while the princess toyed with his heart.

And, speaking of Tanu, the lad was grinning from ear to ear next to him. Archer was about to turn on him when a gruff voice called out behind them. “Tanu! What the fuck are you doing away from your post?”

Even without looking, Archer would have recognized that voice anywhere. It was Sergeant O’Boyle, Tanu’s shield brother. When they turned, Archer saw Perez at the sergeant’s elbow; the boy had clearly run off to fetch the officer at the first whiff of trouble with the guard. A great, towering brute of man, O’Boyle’s face was stern but he was eying Tanu with an expression of pure lust. His face lit up when he saw Tanu’s ripped uniform, the outline of his prominent cock hardening against the crotch of his tight pants. Archer knew that the sergeant liked it rough; Tanu was frequently covered in cuts and bruises of mysterious origin.

Tanu lowered his head, playing the role of the chastened boy with great skill, but his cheeks were rosy and Archer watched his brother’s pants tighten in concert with the sergeant’s. Archer cleared his throat, embarrassed, and took the opportunity to lead Perez away from the two lovers. They hadn’t made it more than ten paces before O’Boyle had backed Tanu up against the stone wall and began pawing his uniform off his firm, muscular body.

***

Even another forbidden blowjob from Perez couldn’t take his mind off of Keating. Archer’s heart was boiling over with concern for his boy and he could barely think. He folded himself into his empty bunk, wrapping his arms around himself for comfort, but it was no use. He wanted Keating back so badly! After two years away, even one more day was too much to bear. He couldn’t wait a moment longer! Keating was in danger and any delay might be the difference between life and death. Archer could barely live with the knowledge that Yamato might be dead; the idea of Keating being in similar peril was intolerable and he had to act.

Even if it meant going AWOL.

He waited until his fellow bunkmates were snoring softly around him and then got up and dressed, creeping out of the barracks and away from the base.

He would talk to his contact at the ferry landing and arrange passage. He would go to the mainland and free his boy from the hated Orcs.

Or die trying.

***

Chapter 3

Archer took a ferry to the mainland, getting off in the surf and wading ashore. The ferryman immediately turned back, looking him up and down doubtfully before leaving. “Ye look like a tough lad but ye still be a man. Best hope ye dinna meet no Orcs.” He grinned, showing his toothless gums and stuck his pole in the water, shoving the skiff off the rocks.

The sky brooded with grey clouds. Gulls cried overhead and the wind whipped the waves frothy. The shore was rocky like everywhere else on the island and those rocks were sharp. The isle was as rugged as it was beautiful, he realized as if for the first time. He looked up at the clouds scudding over and smelled the sea air. There was a low rise of fern-covered hills over a small duneland. To the north, the great River Nurn emptied its sapphire blue waters into the Emerald Sea.

He knew it was a risk to be on the mainland alone but he had to find Keating. If the Orcs had hurt his boy…he banished the thought, clenching his jaw and hefting his pack onto his big shoulders. 

For this trip, he’d opted to wear clothing. He hated doing so; he felt so much more alive when he was naked, like he was meant to be! Still, though, clothes were useful at times. And so was armor, although he had none of that with him. He was vulnerable and he knew it but he didn’t care. His only concern was finding Keating. 

His leggings pinched his bulging crotch despite the studded jockstrap he’d pulled on. In back, the leather hugged his significant backside, cupping his butt cheeks and making him feel self-conscious. (He’d always been a bit disconcerted by the enormous size of his ass and hoped his massive male equipment distracted people from the jiggle of his buttocks.) He was glad none of his fellow Marines were here to see him like this.

The island near the ferry landing was depopulated. Both Orcs and humans avoided it, the area serving as a sort of buffer zone between the warring factions. As a result, he could pass through the wildlands undetected and was (mostly) unworried. After he crested the dune, he descended into a fern forest on the other side. The trees towered overhead, their long, lush fronds dripping with moisture. They were so tall they obscured the horizon and muted his footfalls. Apart from a sharp burst of song from the occasional wood wren, the place was silent; even the wind off the ocean died among the ferns. The air was humid, cold and fragrantly rich.  Only the occasional scent of salt air reminded him that he wasn’t far from the sea.

Everything was damp here. A white mist writhed through the ferns, drenching them with dew and bringing the promise of nightfall. It was cloudy so he couldn’t see the sun but he knew sunset was only a couple hours away. Whether he liked it or not, he would have to stay the night here. The thought didn’t bother him, though. No, all thoughts of his own safety had disappeared as soon as he’d found out that the Orcs were holding Keating prisoner.

Archer had an excellent sense of direction which served him well that afternoon. He managed to keep on track for the River Nurn, never veering off course. Within an hour, he’d reached its banks and followed them up into the rocky hills. The rolling dales of the seaway slowly gave way to steep and treacherous ravines covered in moss. For the first time, he was glad he wore boots because they kept him from slipping on the rocks. Soon, his clothes were soaked and he was shivering. He’d need to build a fire to stay warm but wondered where he’d find the fuel. The Orcs burned peat, he knew, but where would he find it? Sadly, his knowledge of life on the mainland was limited.

The currents of the Nurn grew fierce as the ravine narrowed and soon he was skipping across wet rocks with white water swirling around beneath his feet. Just when it seemed like the river would be pinched off and he’d have to scale a rock wall beside a thunderous waterfall, he happened upon a small clearing. He stopped short, gazing with surprise at a ring of lichen-covered standing stones.

An Orc shrine, he thought, chilled. Orcs practiced earth magic and marked the intersection of ley lines with circles like this. They were considered sacred by the Orcs and dangerous by the humans. Usually the circles were constructed from the trunks of tree ferns; he’d never seen a stone one before and had a bad feeling about it. He halted and eyed the circle, dread creeping up his spine. The stones were immense, more than ten feet high, and nearly as wide as a small house. They formed a rough circle around a central altar stone. He inhaled sharply when he saw there was fresh, green blood filling the basin carved in the center of the stone.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up.

If there was blood, then an Orc priest had just conducted a ritual which meant–

“Hello, Archer.”

He spun around to find his beloved shield brother standing behind him. The boy’s sensuous lips were quirked in amusement as he gazed up at him. He was naked from the waist up save for a pair of spiked pauldrons bound onto his hulking shoulders. His waist was girded with an intricate leather belt and a leather loincloth covered his crotch. On his feet, he wore a very rugged but expertly-crafted pair of leather boots that reached past his knees. A giant battle axe was slung over his shoulder and leather vambraces graced his powerful forearms. His brown hair had grown longer and there were small braids in it. New, intricate tattoos covered his chest, arms, legs, neck and face. A bone pierced his septum and his earlobes were stretched out by small disks. 

He looked more mature, taller and far broader and heavier than Archer remembered, standing only a few inches shorter than him and easily matching his weight and musculature. His face had broadened like his shoulders. Keating had a man’s face now, Archer realized with a start. His boy was gone forever, returned a full-grown, powerful man.

“Keating!”

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the tears sliding down his cheeks. Heart swelling with love and relief, he threw his arms around his boy and swept him into a bear hug. Laughing, Keating responded in kind, putting his massive arms around his waist and hugging him so tightly that Archer almost couldn’t breathe. There were tears in his eyes, too. And happiness. Lots and lots of happiness.

They clung to each other, rocking back and forth on the rocks beside the river. Keating buried his face against Archer’s shoulder and sobbed openly. He moved his great hands up Archer’s back and clung to him, crying and crying and crying.

“Oh, god, Archer!” he sobbed. “I’ve missed you so much! It almost killed me being away from you for so long! Please don’t ever leave me again! Swear to me! Swear you’ll never leave me again!”

Archer was bawling, too, tears pouring out of his eyes with such profusion that he was taken aback. He’d never cried like this before, nor had his heart felt like it would burst out of love and longing. He almost worried that he was having a heart attack, so keen was the ache in it. He’d missed Keating so much!

Finally, he managed to get himself together enough to stammer, “W-W-W-Wait! Yer the one who left me! I never left you! You gotta promise me that ya won’t never leave me, not the other way around!”

Keating laughed, a deeper, richer sound than Archer remembered. A man’s laugh. “Ok, I promise! I promise I won’t ever leave you.”

Archer was so delighted to hear this that he didn’t even think about the one thing that both of them knew: Archer was already twenty-seven years old which meant that they only had three more years before he would be forced to retire from the Marines and marry a woman. There were just some laws that could never be broken. As much as Archer loved Keating, his duty was to marry and father offspring. There was no getting out of that. They would ford that stream, though, when the time came. Right now, his boy was back!

He held Keating out at arm’s length, admiring him. “You’re so handsome,” he praised. “And so big! Fuck, yer almost as big as I am!”

Keating chuckled, slapping him on the arm. “Well, we both know that I’ll never be as big as you are in one particular area.” He stared meaningfully down at Archer’s crotch as he said this, eyebrows lifting as he took in the sight of his lover’s significantly tented crotch. (The fire in Archer’s groin had kindled as soon as he laid eyes on his boy and now his desire was raging. He couldn’t wait to rip Keating’s clothes off and fuck him between those thick, meaty thighs!)

“Grrrrr,” Archer teased, lifting his arms like a bear ready to strike. “You know I love yer little prick. Yer perfect the way ya are!”

“Come,” Keating invited, holding out his hand. “Let’s get reacquainted.” He winked seductively, setting Archer’s blood to boil.

Keating led him into the stone circle, something that should have struck Archer as odd but he was too smitten with his boy to think anything of it. There was a rock near the center stone, carved like a low bench. Keating inclined his head, indicating that Archer should sit down. He did so, looking around in wonder at the circle of stones. With Keating here, the place no longer seemed imposing and took on an intimate air.

Keating busied himself making a fire, producing blocks of peat from somewhere and kneeling to strike a flint. In a few minutes, smoke was rising from the mound and soon Archer spotted a flame or two licking upward. The heat was welcome; he hadn’t realized he was shivering until Keating sat down on his lap.

“Hug me,” the boy ordered. “You’re cold. I’ll warm you up.”

Archer hugged his boy, cradling the lad in his arms like a little stripling even though Keating was nearly as big as him. Keating laughed, cuddling against him. His body smelled so good, rich and strong. It was a man’s scent. Archer still couldn’t believe his boy had grown up so much. It made him ache.

“Let’s play a game.”

Archer looked up and caught a glimpse of mischief in Keating’s eye. “What game?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“Arm wrestling.”

Archer grinned. “And when I beat ya, what do I win?”

Keating winked. “Everything.”

Archer’s cock was beginning to stand up. Well, Ok, it had been standing up since the boy’s broad, muscular bottom settled on his crotch. Now, though, his prick was straining in the studded cup of his jockstrap.

They got down off the bench and Keating removed his vambraces, tossing them aside in the grass. As he did so, Archer noted the fresh wounds crisscrossing his wrist and looked up at him questioningly. “Don’t mind those,” Keating soothed. “I’m fine.”

“But how–?”

“Shhhh, Big Man.” Keating put his elbow on the rock. “Let’s wrestle.”

Archer grinned, forgetting all about those mysterious wounds. He was intensely competitive and couldn’t wait to make Keating beg for mercy. He was quite surprised a moment later when Keating slammed his hand down on the rock, easily besting him.

“H-H-How’d ya do that?” he asked, breathless. Keating still had his hand pinned beneath his own. His palm was calloused and broad, easily as big as Archer’s.

“Practice.” There was that wink again. “Now for the prize.”

Archer blinked, lost in Keating’s soft, brown eyes. “What do I gotta do?”

The boy’s next words completely floored him: “Kiss me.”

“WHAT?!” Archer demanded. He would have pulled back if Keating hadn’t been holding his hand so tightly. He was effectively held in place, unable to get away.

“You heard me,” Keating purred, full lips quirking. “I want your tongue inside me.”

“But–?!” Archer was completely aghast. Men did not kiss! It was strictly forbidden. Every code of conduct listed it as one of the worst offenses a Marine could commit.

Keating sighed. “I won. I get my prize. It’s as simple as that. Now let’s kiss.”

Archer was shaking with a combination of fear and desire. As soon as Keating had said the word, ‘kiss,’ his cock had shot to attention. His eyes were drawn to the lad’s gorgeous, soft, inviting lips. He licked his own, imagining what they would feel like. He’d never kissed a man before–never kissed anyone!–but now it was all he could think about.

“Alright.”

Keating released his hand and patted the stone bench. Archer obediently sat down on it and then Keating was in his arms, smiling at him. He opened his mouth and then his lips were on Archer’s. Archer moaned, running his hands over his boy’s hardened body, feeling the deep trenches of new muscles, and savoring his softer places. He opened his mouth and then felt Keating’s tongue dart inside, furtive at first as if he couldn’t believe his own boldness. Then he became more confident and they locked together, pawing at each other and moaning with ecstasy. 

It felt so wrong! And yet so good. As Keating’s tongue invited him closer, closer, closer, Archer understood why kissing was forbidden. If Marines discovered the pleasure of it, they would do nothing else but kiss each other. Wars would be lost and the island overrun by Orcs. 

Keating pulled away. “I love you, Archer.”

The boy was full of surprises! Archer stared in disbelief at him. The L-word was yet another transgression. Men never uttered the word to another man. It was so unheard of that there wasn’t even a prohibition against it. It was common knowledge that two men could never be in love.

Tears were back in his eyes. He blinked them away. “And I love you.”

Keating grinned back at him. Archer could feel the boy’s heart thudding against his muscular chest. Just like his own.

“Round two.”

Keating slipped off his lap and then they were once again facing off against each other, their hands locked and ready for combat on the stone bench. Archer’s eyes flared. He wasn’t going to let Keating win again so easily.

It was a tough battle but Keating won once again. After a few minutes of intense struggle, he slapped Archer’s hand down on the slab, crowing with victory. Archer gnashed his teeth. He hated losing, even if it was to Keating!

“What do I gotta do now?” he demanded, sulking.

Keating’s eyes danced. “I want you to fuck me.”

Archer’s eyes narrowed slyly. “You didn’t have to beat me at arm wrestling for that. I’ve been ready to fuck you since I first saw you!” He got up and started to unfasten his belt. His monster cock was ready to slide deep into the boy’s firm, hairless thighs.

“Not between the legs,” Keating amended, loosening his loincloth and turning to gaze at Archer coyly from over his shoulder. His buttocks were manly but also incredibly heavy and full, almost round. Bigger than ever, Archer realized with a little spurt of precum. “I want you inside me.”

“Inside you…?” Archer was so dense and so overcome by lust that he didn’t understand.

Keating succeeded in loosening his belt and loincloth and they slid down his bulging thighs. The entirety of his massively swollen ass cheeks was revealed for Archer’s approval. As Archer stared helplessly, his cock leaking like a freshet in his jock, Keating did yet another unthinkable thing: He bent over and spread his buttocks, exposing the tiny, tightest, cutest little pucker. He unclenched it as Archer gaped and winked back at him.

Archer’s cock was throbbing almost painfully. He licked his lips, aching to bury his mouth in that tantalizing cleft. “Keating,” he grunted. “Do you know–?”

“I know I want you inside me, Archer,” the boy said, laughing. His ass–that magnificent ass!–jiggled alluringly as he spoke and Archer’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Who gives a fuck about the rules? We’re together and we’re in love. Fuck the Marines! And then fuck my asshole!” That pucker winked again at Archer like a mischievous eye.

“L-L-L-Lube?”

Another laugh. Another jiggle. “I’m already lubed up, Archer. Can’t you tell?”

Archer realized it was true. The boy’s ass was slick with tallow and his butthole glistened in the firelight. He’d already prepared himself for this, Archer understood with a jolt. Which meant…

He might be dumb but he wasn’t that dumb. “You…knew I would be here. You knew you would beat me at arm wrestling?”

“Oh, Archer! You’re nothing if not predictable!” Keating waggled his big buttocks provocatively, nearly short-circuiting Archer’s brain. “Now c’mon! Take me! I’m all yours!”

“You’re sure? Keating, this’ll mean that–”

Keating straightened and turned to him, taking him in his massive arms and hugging him. He pressed himself against Archer’s bulk, his stout, short cock poking into the cleft between his legs. “Archer, I already told you: I am never leaving you again. I want to marry you. I want to sire our children.” He lifted his mouth and kissed Archer again, teasing his upper lip with his tongue.

“But we’re men,” Archer somehow managed to protest. “We can’t–”

“Leave that to me,” Keating stated firmly. “No one is going to get between us. No laws. No prohibitions. Nothing. Not even the Marines.” He lifted his head and fixed Archer with his defiant gaze. “You understand?”

Archer didn’t but he was done fighting against the will of his cock. He’d let Keating do the thinking. It was always better that way anyways. He had to fuck the boy now!

He spun the lad around and pushed him forward. Keating giggled, bending over and grabbing his ankles. His giant, ripe butt spread out before Archer like a banquet. Growling, Archer stripped out of his clothing and sloughed off his jockstrap, liberating his unbelievably large tool. It sprang out, longer and fatter than a club. Archer bellowed, taking Keating by his narrow hips and aiming his cockhead for that tiny hole. His foreskin slid back as Keating grunted, forcing himself to relax. His anus loosened, winking open.

Archer took a hank of the boy’s long hair and yanked his head backward. Keating cried out with both pain and happiness as a truly man-sized cock thrust inside him for the first time in his life. And just like that, he fell to the lowest of all of the social strata in the colony. A man who took a penis inside his anus wasn’t even considered human any longer. He was lost, stripped of his status and citizenship and exiled. 

And it was Archer who had done it to him.

Even as his hips bucked forward and he sighed deeply, feeling the boy’s butthole greedily slurp in his manhood and then clench down so hard it brought tears to his eyes, he worried about the lad. Keating was the son of an alderman. With his prowess as a soldier and intellect, he was poised to become a tetrarch after he retired from the Marines in seven years.

He was ruining Keating even as he ruined his butthole. There would be no way for him to pass the required monthly rectal exam after this. Archer was just too big! Maybe a little guy like Perez could fuck Keating’s hole and get away with it, but–Oh, who was he kidding? Perez fuck a butthole? Ha! Only a man like Archer could do it and Archer was hung like a god.

His cock would leave the boy permanently gaping and unable to clench, unable to hide the evidence of being fucked up the ass. The anal exam was a ritual of being a Marine, a monthly inspection when all soldiers dropped their drawers and bent over, offering their buttholes for review by their commanding officer. Any Marine who failed the tightness test was immediately and irrevocably discharged, his record permanently marred by the worst crime in the colony: A man whore who took another man’s cock for pleasure. No one ever lived it down and most committed suicide, the only honorable way to redeem themselves because it removed them–and their anus–from tempting other men.

Tears filled his eyes as he exploded in the tiniest, tightest chute ever. He was still a virgin, never having fucked a woman before and only fucking men between their thighs. The sensation of burying his long, thick tool inside a hot hole was beyond anything he’d ever imagined. The most amazing sensation of his life and the fact that it was Keating providing it for him only made it more special. And also more devastating.

He couldn’t look at Keating afterwards; he was too ashamed. He pulled out with a loud slurp, body still vibrating with the aftereffects of orgasm. Keating was panting and red-faced and radiant when he turned around, his face split with the most alluring smile. Archer looked down at his feet, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Keating, my love,” he began, “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t–”

“Shhh.” Keating sealed his lips with a kiss, getting up on his tiptoes and wrapping his beefy arms around Archer’s neck. “I’ve never been this happy.” He paused, looking off to the side. “Only one thing would make me happier.”

Archer stared at him, blinking. “What?”

Keating smiled slyly. “Let’s arm wrestle again.”

“Aw, not again!” Archer complained. “You’ve already beat me twice!” He put his hands up. “I know when I’m beaten. If you want me to do something, just ask!” He reached down and gently touched Keatin’s inflamed ass lips; they were loose flaps, oozing Archer’s cum. “After lettin’ me ruin ya, it’s the least I can do. Now, whaddaya wanna do now?”

Keating grinned. “I still haven’t cum, Archer.”

“Yeah? You want me to blow you?” Archer couldn’t believe the words left his mouth. Only an hour ago, he would have fallen on his sword before offering to do such a profane and womanly thing. Now, though, Keating had busted through all the norms, leaving everything on the table.

Well, almost anything.

“Lemme fuck you.”

Archer froze, staring wide-eyed at his beautiful lover. His own tiny, tight sphincter clenched in horror at the thought. “What?! No! I can’t, Keating!” he protested. “Please don’t ask me that!”

“Archer,” Keating cajoled. “Look at me.” Archer reluctantly lifted his head and gazed into Keating’s amber-cinnamon eyes. Keating smiled. “I don’t wanna fuck your asshole, you big idiot.”

“Well, then…where?” Archer paused. “You wanna fuck me between the legs?” He hadn’t been fucked incrurally since Yamato had retired from the Marines several years ago. While not as career-ending as getting fucked up the butt, it was nonetheless considered shameful for a man to get thigh-fucked by his boy. Archer would do it, though, if that was what Keating wanted. He owed the boy that.

But Keating had something else in mind.

Shaking his head, he said, “No, not between your thighs!” He shuddered. “You’re too hairy, Archer!”

“Then where?”

In wordless answer, Keating reached down and cradled Archer’s heavy balls in his hands. Winking slyly, he tickled him in that place. That certain place that no one but Archer and his mother knew about. Archer braced, head whipping back like Keating had slapped him.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” he demanded, pulling away. “DON’T TOUCH ME THERE! DON’T EVER TOUCH ME THERE!”

Keating didn’t pull away. Far from chagrined, he was completely unfazed by Archer’s reaction. He kept his hand firmly on Archer’s balls, reasoning, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Archer. Your cunt makes you special.” 

“WHAT.THE.FUCK.DID.YOU.CALL.IT?!” Archer’s hands clenched into fists. Anyone else. Anyone else would be dead by now for daring to utter such an insult. Anyone else but Keating.

“Your cunt,” the boy replied glibly, clearly savoring his outrage. He kneaded Archer’s balls and then, still smiling innocently, boldly tickled him yet again in his private shame. Archer couldn’t help it. He let out a loud moan. Keating’s smile turned into a grin and he held up his fingers, glistening with moisture. “You’re all wet, Archer. Yer cunt’s wet for my cock.”

“…not…a…cunt,” Archer managed to gasp. He was shaking with humiliation…and desire. He both hated Keating and was incredibly aroused by him. “It’s…a…birth…defect.”

“Pffft!” Keating really knew how to goad him! His dismissive reaction made Archer want to pommel him. “A birth defect? Do you really believe that?” He took Archer’s pendulous balls once again in hand, this time inserting a finger deep inside the gaping ‘wound’ between his legs. Archer whimpered, his cheeks blazing with humiliation.

Keating stood on his tiptoes and kissed him, working another finger inside Archer’s horribly embarrassing hole as he did so. “This,” he wiggled both fingers, causing Archer’s knees to buckle and more horrid goo to leak out of him, “is not a birth defect, Archer.” Keating caught him both with his hands and his eyes as he pronounced, “It’s called a vagina. Archer, you were born female.”

“What?!” Archer was so weak with arousal and defeat that he no longer had the capacity for outrage. Keating had him by the balls. Literally. “No. No, it’s just a–”

“Ask your mother, Archer.” How could Keating be so cruel and so loving at the same time? “Ask her to tell you the truth.”

Archer wanted to push him–No, shove him! But he was powerless against his boy. His shoulders slumped as Keating took charge. Maybe this is the way it had always been anyways? Keating had never really been very submissive even though he was smaller and younger than him. He was too clever, always ten steps ahead of Archer. Fuck, he was always a hundred steps ahead of Archer and ten steps ahead of everyone else. He always figured everything out before it even happened. Keating was kind of scary that way. And also really sexy. Archer loved how bright his boy was. Keating made him feel safe because he was never surprised by anything.

Placing one hand possessively on his ass, Keating cradled Archer’s giant balls, working his fingers behind his leathery nutsac and slipping deeper inside the profane cleft behind his balls. The shameful, awful, hideous, embarrassing cleft that he thought he’d kept hidden from everyone. Even Yamato had never discovered it in all of his amorous explorations of Archer’s young body. Archer had been careful to steer the man away from it whenever he got too close. And Keating…well, he’d never allowed Keating to explore his body like Yamato. No, it was inappropriate to allow one’s boy such liberties. With Keating, he was always in control.

Until now.

“I’m gonna fuck you.”

Keating’s short, stout cock was fully erect at all of five inches. It was so small it was almost laughable. Archer used to tease him about it, force the boy to stand there while he placed his giant cock over it, dwarfing it, demonstrating his prowess. Archer was the man. Keating was the boy. It was that simple.

Not anymore!

Keating lifted Archer’s balls as he pushed him up against one of the standing stones. Archer didn’t resist. He couldn’t! He was too weak. The sensation of the boy’s hand inside him had done something to his will, left him meek and obedient. And hungry. 

Ever since he was a child, his mother had made him keep his hands away from the strange slit under his balls, even threatening to sew it up if he didn’t. When he got older, he asked her about it. She’d waved her hand dismissively, “It’s nothing unusual. Just a hernia that didn’t heal properly when you were a baby.” She never told him explicitly but he knew that its presence was shameful, the one flaw in his otherwise perfect physique. He kept its presence hidden, a ruse that was aided by his mother. She performed all of the physicals for the Marines which allowed her to protect his privacy. As far as he knew, no one besides her knew about its presence between his legs, not even his little brother, Tanu.

The shame hadn’t prevented him from fingering himself. Since he’d turned thirteen and his blood started to pound with the drumbeat of lust, he’d privately pleasured himself at night, lying awake in his bed and jacking his stiff cock while fingering his slit. The combination of the twin stimuli was enough to make him cry out. He’d chewed his pillow, writhing with happiness and hoping desperately that he didn’t wake his mother or brother.

How had Keating known?

He wanted badly to ask him but Keating was too busy dominating him. Taking charge in a way that was new and exciting, the boy’s eyes burned with fire as he shoved Archer back against the stone and got in his face, panting, “I’m your first. Tell me I’m your first!”

He aimed his stout but stubby cock underneath the overhang of Archer’s testicles. Archer moaned, digging his hands into Keating’s plump buttocks. The sensation of the boy’s glans against his profane cunt lips felt so wrong that it made him desperate. “Don’t,” he pleaded. “Please, don’t!”

Keating pulled back. “You serious? You really don’t want me to fuck you?”

Archer blinked at him, eyes wide. He didn’t know what to say. It had never entered his mind that he could be fucked this way. He’d spent so many years hiding his pussy that now that Keating was poised to fuck it, he didn’t know how he felt. As he hesitated, Keating’s eyes softened and he lifted his mouth to kiss him.

“I’m gonna make us some babies, Archer,” he purred, staring up at him through slitted eyes. “We’re gonna be daddies. You want that, don’t you? Yer fertile now. I can smell it on yer skin.” He sniffed, nostrils flaring. “Yer in season.”

“In…season?” Archer’s mind barely comprehended the meaning of the word. How could it be possible–?

“I could smell you a mile away.” Keating looked very pleased with himself. “It’s the full moon tonight and yer at yer peak of fertility.”

“Fertility…?”

Keating rocked back on his heels, shaking his head at Archer’s obliviousness. “Each month, Archer. Each month you bleed. Did you think I never noticed? I caught you stuffing a rag in yer cunt once. Did you forget?” He laughed harshly. “And yer such a whiny little bitch when yer bleeding, too. C’mon, Archer! Wake up!”

Archer goggled at him. The blood? The blood? Oh, fuck! The blood! He went pale when he realized that Keating was right yet again. Ever since he turned thirteen, he would bleed periodically. His mother told him it was the hernia but now he knew she’d been lying to him. It wasn’t a hernia! He was having his menses! His face turned bright red as he far too belatedly understood what Keating had figured out years ago.

As he struggled, tears filling his eyes, Keating softened again. “Oh, Archer!” he cried, taking him in his brawny arms, comforting him. Protecting him. “I’m sorry! You really didn’t know, did you? Oh, Archer! Yer such a big, dumb idiot!” He cradled Archer’s head against his chest, soothing him when his tears pattered down his bulging pecs. “Yer so pretty, Archer. My pretty little baby. C’mon. It’s Ok. I’m gonna make you so happy. Yer big man Keating’s gonna show you how special you are. You’ll see.” He lifted Archer’s head and kissed his tear-stained cheeks. “Let’s make love, Archer. Let’s make our love obvious to the whole world.”

And that’s what he did.

Pushing Archer against the cold stone, he kissed him before slowly sinking down to his heels and, gently lifting Archer’s heavy equipment out of the way, proceeded to lick him…down there. Archer threw his head back and bellowed when Keating’s expert tongue caressed his moist lips. Fertive, teasing and then bolder and bolder, Keating worked him into a frenzy, a relentless frenzy. Archer dug his hands into the boy’s shoulders, scratching them with his nails. The pleasure was so intense, it broke him. His cunt betrayed him, over and over and over, as he came and came and came and came in orgasm after orgasm. And yet Keating showed no signs of stopping.

Finally, when Archer was so weak he was sagging on his feet, Keating straightened and, moving Archer’s hands down onto his big, soft buttocks, stuck his little pecker between the very wet folds of his vagina. Archer howled, his overly engorged cock sandwiched between their sweaty bellies and Keating small cock fucking him mercilessly. Under normal circumstances, a penis as lightweight as Keating’s would have been laughable but the boy turned out to be the perfect size for Archer. His twat was incredibly small and tight. Just right for Keating.

Keating grabbed his lower lip between his teeth and clamped down as he came inside Archer. His butt cheeks tensed and he arched his back, his miniscule manhood pulsing with life as he spurted more and more of his potent seed inside him. Archer was spasming uncontrollably, too. His vagina enveloped his little lover’s penis like a dripping glove, caressing him even as it crushed him. (Like the rest of him, Archer’s cunt was nothing if not powerful.) Keating cried out, meeting his eyes with stunned disbelief. This was the boy’s first time, too, Archer realized with a start. Keating was a virgin just like him.

Together, they learned just how incendiary their bodies could be when they came together. And came and came and came.

Keating’s skin was already turning green by the time they separated. The boy looked down at his discoloring hands with consternation before lifting his swelling shoulders in a little shrug. “Shit. The magic was ‘sposed to last longer,” he growled. “Fuck.”

Archer took a step back, his cunt still throbbing with desire and release. Keating semen dripped down his thighs. “Keating, what’s going–?”

“I completed the ritual. The Ritual of Binding,” Keating explained as tusks emerged from his lower jaw and his features coarsened and thickened, turning his face into a hideous mockery of his previous beauty. “I’m an Orc now.” He reached out and placed a huge, heavy, misshapen mitt on Archer’s shoulder and squeezed, his body becoming bloated by new muscle and his stature rising as he grew inch after inch. “And yer my new wife. My half-Orc wife.” He puckered his ugly maw, leering, “Kiss me, Archer! Kiss yer big Orc man!”

***