Day 16 - Public - Original (Gay)

For the first time in his career, Alex dropped the bag of stolen goods. One of the orcs had rounded the corner and suddenly appeared in front of him and it had so genuinely surprised him that he couldn’t help but lose his grasp on it. Most jobs that wouldn’t matter. This job, the bag hit the floor with a loud crack, Alex winced. The orc winced back.

“Uh… oops…”

The orc’s face shifted from anger to grief and back again, he finally sighed and dragged his hand down his face.

“So that’s the game, huh?” He grunted, “Make a deal with us, then steal back what you gave while keeping what you took?”

“Look, you don’t know what it’s like down below, Gael,” Alex’s tail flicked irritably, “It costs obsidian to do anything, even coming up here to make a deal. When you mortals wish for things like beer steins that make people keep coming back, I can’t just pull that out of my ass. Plus what you’re giving up is barely worth getting up. Do you know how many demons want some orc bartender’s firstborn? Not fucking many.”

“Why are you making deals if you can’t afford them?” Gael’s face finally settled on anger and stuck there.

“There’s no other quick way to make obsidian! I’m not going to spend a thousand years in some sulfur field just to open a small business in cursing royal heirs and granting string instrument skill!” Alex picked up the bag and shook it, wincing again at the sound of broken shards of glass moving inside, “So I… cheat a little. Usually to better results.”

“And your clients,” Gael took an angry step forward, “They can just deal with it?”

“Most of them uh…” Alex took a step back into the wall behind him, “Aren’t supposed to figure out what I’ve done.”

“You realize you’re not getting my firstborn now, right?”

“Uh… about that…” Alex closed his eyes, waiting for a blow, “All sales final…”

“Oh yeah? Because you weren’t singing that same tune a second ago.”

“No it’s just…” Alex gulped, “I uh… promised your payment to somebody else before coming back up here.”

He kept waiting to be punched, slapped, something, but after a long wait he heard Gael simply sigh and chuckle.

“Gods above, you’ve got to be one of the shittiest businessmen on any plane of reality.”

“Hey man! I’m trying, I’ve only got a decade of experience.”

“You’re an incubus, aren’t you? Why not make your obsidian that way?”

“Yeah right, that takes obsidian on a human’s part to summon me. With the church getting more popular, nobody up here has obsidian any more, let alone enough to spend on sex.”

“But don’t you get life energy or something from the sex?”

“I mean, you get energy from food, but eating doesn’t pay your bills.”

“Can’t you just… manifest that into obsidian?” Gael shrugged, “I read in the demonology tome that all obsidian was was calcified magic.”

“Since when do you know so much about hell?” Alex furrowed his brow, “What’s it to you?”

“I’m a bartender, laddy. I serve and lend an ear to any client who asks. Even the strange ones.” He gestured at the bag, “And what it’s to me is that you owe me for that glass.”

“What do you want from me?” Alex tried to look innocent but flared his long, wet tongue, “You want me to make it up to you?”

“Make it up to me, yes, but not how you’re meaning.” Gael adjusted his belt, “I’m happily married, and to a lady at that, but there’s plenty of fellas in the stronghold who can add to their bar tab and don’t mind what you’ve got for a kit.”

“That’s your plan? You want to whore me out to your tribe?”

“It’s that or sweeping floors for however long it takes to make up what you figure that glass was worth.”

A few moments later Alex was being led out into the town square. It was generous to call it a town, being that it was about two actual buildings while the rest of the orcs lived in wayward tents or slept in the open. The bar, being roughly as important as the chieftain’s quarters, was one of the only things actually set in log and stone into the ground. Gael fished in the ramshackle shed behind it for a moment and found what he was looking for, bringing out a wooden set of stocks and clacking them loudly as he brought them in front of his bar and toward the center square, the only circle of actual stone, usually reserved for hangings and duels. There in the ground was a sort of slot which the bottom of the stocks slid into and then locked in. Gael gestured toward the stocks and Alex slipped in meekly. It was late enough at night that only the bedraggled and nightwalkers saw it happening, but when Gael yanked Alex’s leather breaches down around his ankles and rang a bell loudly above him, it got enough attention for the bartender to clear his throat and hold out a bucket.

“Hear ye, hear ye-” He tried, cleared his throat again, then tried again, “To whom it may concern-”

The crowd murmured and glared at him, less because orcs have no patience for poor public speaking (the majority of warriors having a vocabulary which wouldn’t even register on the ink expenses during transcription) and more because you had to either have tremendous temerity or something worth saying if you were going to make a loud noise at night in a place where most slept out in the open.

“Look here then,” Gael finally decided on, “I’ve got an apprentice barkeep what can’t keep a glass off the ground to save his life and whose got no means to pay back his expensive mistakes.”

“Cane him then!” One of the orcs in attendance shouted.

“Hang him!” Came a far more zealous cry.

“Being of his nature…” Gael started again and the caught himself, he really was only good at speaking to somebody one on one or shouting at them from across the bar, he was finding, “His origins, as it were…”

“Get on with it!” Somebody shrieked.

Alex groaned, “Look, he’s going to let you pay to bugger me, alright?”

“He is?” One of the orcs at the front squinted.

“That’s right, I am,” Gael threw out his arms wide, “Being such a charitable person, as it were.”

“If it were charity, he’d be letting us bugger him for free,” One of the orcs grumbled.

“Rich don’t know what charity means,” Somebody next to him hissed conspiratorially, “They think it’s when they do something good and we can see it.”

“In order to pay back his debts, you will all be allowed to do with my apprentice here as you see fit.” Gael declared, “It’ll be five gold for his mouth, ten gold for-”

“Old man, that’s way too low!” Alex hissed.

“Nobody here has any money.” Gael hissed back.

“Fucking hell,” Alex shifted in the stocks. There was a better than good chance that he was going to be as sore tomorrow as he’d ever been in his life. A feat, considering where he lived.

“Right, five for his mouth, ten for his ass.” Gael gestured broadly. “Any takers?”

A couple of men stepped forward and Alex sighed. Being an incubus, you always knew there was an off-chance you were getting summoned to work for some men, but most of them held out hope that every client would be a woman. It was going to be a learning experience for him. One of the orcs stepped in front of him and brought his large, green cock out from his loincloth. At the same time, Alex could feel a large hand settle on his ass from behind. He sighed and relaxed his jaw as best he could.

Both of his holes spread to accept the penetration like they’d been tailor-made and evolved from the very start of his evolution to take them and exclusively them. A gasp went out from both orcs. It was a unique quirk of his existence, always being the best possible lay for the partner involved. Both in terms of his appearance and in terms of how his body would accommodate them. Not only did he look the way which would make the mortal the most pleased (making describing his appearance a truly futile effort, as was looking in a mirror), his cock could grow, shrink, expand, contract. His ass could widen, tighten, etc. Every part of him could be replaced and would be replaced, like some kind of twink of Theseus. It meant he never had to deal with a dissatisfied customer. It also meant there wasn’t any notion of a “real” self at the core of it. But he tried not to linger on the more existentialist questions while being spitroasted. He twink, therefore he am.

“Shit, ahhh.” The orc fucking his mouth grabbed a handful of what was either sandy blonde or carrot orange hair and thrust his hips a little more forcefully, pumping the fat broad head of his cock down Alex’s throat, distending it with each thrust. If he’d had to breathe, it would have presented a logistical problem. But between that and the cock in his ass, all that came of it was a tingling, a sort of lighter-than-air elation. A small amount of life energy came out in the buildup, but the big wave was going to be the moment of climax.

Gael was collecting money hand over fist and storing it in the big kangaroo pouch of his apron. As a pair of orderly lines with numbered stones formed both in front of and behind Alex, Gael flipped one of the lady orcs in attendance a gold coin and she rushed into the bar before returning with a handful of beers. Passing them around until half of the assembled orcs were holding alcohol like it was a high festival, even as the moon sat plump in the sky. It probably was a special occasion for Gael. You don’t make a wish with a demon to increase profits if you’re making hand over fist. At least, it doesn’t make much sense to.

The orc fucking Alex’s ass suddenly and desperately grabbed the incubi’s narrow (subjectively) hips and made a wheezing thrust into him before unloading his seed. Alex felt it hit his guts and shuddered, a blissful pleasure-drunk feeling rolling forward from where it touched him and making his own thin, watery load start to dribble from his untouched cock. When the orc fucking his face followed a moment later, Alex’s eyes watered and he started to feel a sort of true intoxication. He realized, perhaps a little too late, that not only was this the first time he’d be working with a man, it was the first time he’d be working with more than one partner at the same time. He wished he’d paid more attention when being instructed by the demon tutors. There might have been a warning of some kind. He was already too gone to care.

When the orc pulled out of his throat and the next orc up took a swig before pulling his cock free, Alex cleared his throat.

“Say,” He giggled, “Can I have a drink of that before you… you know?”

The orc obliged, reaching down to put the rim of the glass against Alex’s lips and then tilting it up enough for the incubi to take his drink. The fuzzy feeling in his fingers and toes of genuine intoxication came crackling up from out of nowhere. He remembered only as he coughed and sputtered that orcish beer was about as strong as any other race’s liquor. But now, mixing intoxications, he also settled his mind on that being something he didn’t care about.

“Alright,” Alex panted, “Continue.”

The orc’s cock slid into his throat and Alex relaxed his entire body.

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