#raunch

Barric yawned as he ferried Igrim back to his tent for the night. The sun was setting. He lit a candle and looked down. This was as good a time as any. The human was happy, a little service would do him no harm. A friendly growl and a wink was enough to catch his attention. Then he removed his shirt. Just like that, the little man's cool crumbled. Barric resisted the urge to laugh at him. First of all, he wrestled the little man out of his own shirt. He didn’t need that. He took a small wrist and set it on his chest, letting the human squeeze muscle in his little hands. Palpable awe. Barric flexed for him. Then he winced. Dinner wasn't agreeing with him. A rumble in his guts. Barric grunted, letting gas seep out of his rear. A small hand pulled back. He examined the small man's reaction. Screwed up nose. Little growls of disgust. All normal. There was something half-hearted about the little man’s complaints, though. He looked down. Sure enough, a tent in the human’s breeches. That was… unexpected. But not unwelcome. A human's duty was to worship. In the future, Barric was hardly going to stop riding his boy’s face because of a little gas. It would be much easier for his human if he enjoyed the process. He moved his eyes back up. An odd quiet. Barric smirked. Someone was embarrassed. He liked that. Now came talking. A lot of talking. Excuses, justifications, defensive stammers. Barric watched him, grinning, formulating his plan of attack. In the end, he went with the simplest option. He gave the human a shove onto the bed. He turned around. He planted a foot either side of the little man's torso and squatted slowly down. The rising tempo of protests and yapping. The build of gas inside him. Finally, it struck. Barric’s gas tore through the little man's voice. Loud and foul. A moment of silence. Then the boy tried to scrabble out of his shadow, coughing. Barric reached down to wrap his fingers in the little man's hair, pulling him back in. Desperate struggling. Barric dragged him in, enjoying the feeling of futile struggles. The floodgates were open now, unstoppable, even if he had any intention to close them. His stench already curled around them. He flexed his gut, squeezing with his core, just to see if he could hold it in long enough to get his filter in place. He lowered back and down. The human’s head tried to twist in his palm. Pathetically weak. Barric huffed, amused, as he felt skin tickling the forest of his crack. He listened to the little man's breathing. In and out. Faster, now. He paused.

“Slow.” Confusion. Barric twisted to look down at him, gesturing at his chest. “Breathe.” He inhaled deep. The little man followed his command, nose wrinkling. “Out.” Lead by example. The little man had the idea now. In and out, in and out, until the human's breath was slowed once more.

“In.” Almost there, now. Barric's moment was approaching. He turned slowly back around, keeping his movements careful, the little man too focused to see Barric's arse bearing back down on him.

“Out.” Right to the end, when all his breath was gone, just when he would need the deepest breath yet. Then Barric, in a affectionate display of power, relaxed, shoving the head in his palm deep between his sweaty arsecheeks. Pleasure as his bowels relaxed. Stinking gas flooded the room. And the little man, of course, breathed in every last atom. Barric let him go and chuckled, turning around to watch his body fall back and his eyes go glassy, trying desperately to hold on, something like a sob tearing its way out of his throat. He chuckled, watching the little man roll over in raw, overstimulated disgust. A good reaction. He stood up for a moment to get ready. Barric took off his trousers slowly. His ass was already free. There was no point in underwear with a back when he was just going to sweat through it. The little man was up again now. Looking scared and hopeful and red-faced. Barric clicked his fingers for attention. What was the word? He had learnt it. It had been a necessary conversation. He had allowed himself a little too much leeway when they met. He turned the word over in his mouth, human syllables still feeling awkward to him. Fragile and muddled against his tusks.

“Word. Safeword.” He switched back to Orcish. “Last chance.” The human's mouth stayed sealed. Barric ruffled his hair. Then he manhandled him back onto the bed. The usual struggling. Barric had realised by now that this was something the little man enjoyed. Half the fun for him seemed to be in pretending that he didn’t willingly turn up at Barric’s bed every evening. Soon he had a very small human beneath him. He got on his knees, positioning human limbs just right. He couldn't have little hands protecting the human's nose. Then he sat down. That was the end of the little man's whining. Barric was free to unload. He hadn't been holding it in, really. He never did. He just hadn't really studied the little human's reactions properly. The little man was lucky. Orcs were not sweet-smelling creatures. Barric always had plenty of gas in him. He settled back, getting comfortable, feeling a little nose struggling in his crack. There was no hurry. They had a quiet evening ahead. He tugged at the little man's breeches. The tear of fabric. He considered it for a moment, then tore the rest off in one stroke. No point wasting time. A weak attempt at a protest, silenced by another blast of his gas. The human’s cock, of course, was standing to attention. It wasn't that important right now. He just wanted the little man stripped for the sake of humiliation. He tugged over a fur so the boy didn't get cold, then chuckled as he felt gas roiling inside him. Heat. Foul winds, building inside him, before they finally escaped, stinking and wet. Trial by fetid miasma. A losing battle. It didn't matter what action the boy took now. All roads led to Barric’s fumes, breaking him down. Muffled coughing. Small hands, tapping desperately as they reached beneath his fat arse. Barric huffed, releasing another blast of rotten air as a reward. The willpower to keep on struggling was impressive. Barric’s teaching was interrupted by a voice. Not very deep. Human, in fact. In stilted Orcish. Barric growled.

“Fuck off.” Again. An insistent call. Barric released one last irritated gust into his toy and stood up. A small weight fell to the floor behind him. Grateful breaths behind him as he stomped to the entrance. He tore it open, scowling out. A human. He had better understand Orcish if he wanted to talk.

“Your friend is breathing gas. We’re busy.” The human sputtered out, mouth still open. Eyes, darting up and down his body. They flicked to his side. Towards Barric's toy. Barric growled. The human had something in his hand. He swiped it. The spare knife he had been waiting for. He flipped the human a coin.

“Tell your blacksmith I appreciate his craft. Now fuck off.” He closed the entrance. There was movement in the corner of his eye. The human. Planning one of his little games. He turned the knife over in his hands, faking ignorance. Sure enough. The intake of a breath then a small form tried to dash past him. Still sluggish from his ordeal. A quick swat sent the human onto the ground. Then he sprung up again. Smoothly. Barric huffed.

“I haven't ruined your lungs well enough.” He supposed it was inevitable. He was an ex-soldier. There had to be some kind of toughness about him. He smirked. A pity. It meant nothing in the face of this kind of power gap. He brushed off an attempted jab. A curse. So gentle, on a human tongue. Barric snorted. He let a couple of blows glance off his belly and his arms. He bent at the knees and waited. Finally, an attempt at a grab. He stood up, the little man’s feet leaving the ground as he clung on. A belated attempt to let go and get his feet back on the ground. Barric stepped in as he landed, swept his still-unstable feet from under him, and crouched down, landing a foot gently on an arm. The human blinked beneath him, processing his defeat.

“Yield.” A glare. He lowered his weight down. Just a little. A wince and the little man went limp. Barric twisted an ear between thumb and forefinger, hauling his would-be escapee back to where a human belonged. An easy shove. The human stumbled forwards, turning to sit on his ass, watching Barric approach.

“Dramatic little bastard.” He turned around, clicking his fingers behind him. The human squeaked. “Now.” He lowered himself back down, waiting for a small face to slot back where it belonged. The human dragged his feet.

“If I have to force you, boy, you can forget sniffing my gas. I'll make you my goddamn toilet.” Obviously, the human couldn't understand that kind of Orcish. But the message seemed to get across. A little nose nuzzled against the fur of his crack. He planted a hand on the back of the human’s head and pulled him in, falling back into the nest of furs. Gently, not fast enough to break anything, just a reminder of who was in charge. From here, he could relax. His balls landed heavily on the human's chest. He gathered another fur to keep the human's lower half warm. Now it was Barric's turn to get comfortable. He ground down. A festering release. A small leg jerked. Barric paused, feeling the movement of the human's limbs as he inhaled another noxious gale.

“Barric!” He snarled as he heard another voice. The tent entrance lifted abruptly. He glared upwards, then recognition hit him.

“Ah. Fuck. Odhran.” Grey skin. Fat bastard. Dressed in an approximation of human clothing, as befitted a mediator.

“That's no way to greet me.” He forgot this was planned. The man handed him a bowl. “Why are you in bed? Where's this human you said I could meet?” Barric huffed, accompanying it with another stinking fart. The man looked down as human limbs twitched beneath the sheets.

“Barric. You told me I could meet him.” Barric considered this.

“Yes. Plans… changed. Trial by stench.”

“I can see that. You know, I brought food for all of us. Human included.” Barric scratched his head.

“Hmm. I could stop. Promised you a meal first.”

“I'm fucking with you. I don't mind a show, you know that. I'll leave this one here for your boy.”

“He appreciates it.”

“Sure he does.” Odhran sat down, crossing his legs. “You don't mind me watching?”

“Of course not. I had a human interrupt earlier. That was worse. He was in the way.”

“Mmhmm.” A brow creased. “I thought he was new, though? Isn't this too much?” Barric pulled back the covers, flicking a small cock.

“Already a fart sniffer. No training needed.” A chuckle.

“Barric… bloody hell. This is a human. You can’t break him in slowly?”

“No. It's what he was born for.” Odhran shook his head.

“Alright. You know I won't stop you. You always had a fascinating way with humans. Let's eat.” It was a pleasant way to spend an evening. Scour the little man's olfactory system, talk with Odhran. Or let Odhran talk to him, anyway. Chatty bastard. That was what happened when you talked to humans too much. You lost the ability to shut up. His guts rumbled and he focused for a moment. Feel heat and wetness build, then release, the sound muted as it hit a small face. The vibrations of exhaustion and disgust and arousal against his hole. It felt good. The boy gave up eventually. The occasional lifeless little kick. Barric had a suspicion he wasn't conscious for much of the evening. Bitten off more than he could chew. Orcish gas was no small ordeal for the uninitiated human. It was fine. He was safe, he was happy, just overwhelmed. He leaned back against his cushions and yawned.

“Alright. This ends soon, please. I enjoy your company, but me and the boy are going to bed soon.” Odhran gave him a lopsided grin.

“Done with company? You still seem to have a lot of patience for him.”