Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

The Misadventures of Mezzick	By : midomango87 Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 2564 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not in, in part or in whole, own Blizzard or World of Warcraft, or any character or possible character from the World of Warcraft. I do not make any money in writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Tumack feigns disinterest and mocks rubbing sleep out of his eyes as To’al and Mezzick settle for the night. A steady calm begins to settle in as two more snores sail into the air becoming part of the background noise. To anyone else, the orc would be setting up for a long shift of basically nothing. But if any one would be watching they would have noticed he has vanished.
Silent as a ghost, Tumack took care and placed himself next to Murtock’s bedding and bags. With a cautious eye he once again checked on the three sleeping companions. He began to rifle through his “brother’s” belongings.
Orphaned at a young age, Tumack was taken in by Murtock’s family. An orphan herself, Murtock’s mother Mugrala thought if the family could spare the room they would adopt a child. Tumack was grateful, he was smaller than most of the other boys and thus few families gave him a second look. The Orcs who could most benefit from a proper home were the warriors-to-be, someone who could bring honor to the family-- not the runt.
   However it was his slight form that allowed him to excel as a contracted killer. Slinking in the shadows came naturally, he found a home among the unseen and unsung heroes of Orgrimmar. His subtle work caused the two to rise in the ranks; Murtock was a fine warrior, but only Tumack could fillet the battlefield to make his brother’s cleaving rampage rise to its full potential. Years of admiring the robust form of Murtock from afar had taught him which side he favors, his tolerances, his weakness...
   Tumack knew he was different from the get go. Maybe it was another reason he was never selected as until Murtock’s family came along. Maybe Mugrala instinctively knew who would protect her child best. It was love at first sight for when Murtock shuffled in after his mother. Tumack was infatuated at first, and unfortunately learned early on it would be unrequited.
“The night air was cold and both boys were fighting over the blanket again in the quickly shrinking bed. The two had shared the space for some time, but as Murtock started his growth spurt it was becoming apparent that second bed would have to be made soon. Tumack awoke once again to the cold air. He knew what he what could warm his bones, but dared not act on his feelings. He wished he could just pull the blanket off and be done with it. But the thought of leaving his brother cold made his heart fall. After some time he decided, maybe just a touch. Just a finger. And who would know? He casually crawled his hand up and brushed the the inviting hip. Murtock immediately growled and rolled away from the nuisance onto his side, taking with him more blanket. Tumack tried once more, moving his arm close. Then lifted his hand up, and just barely grazing it.
Sparks flew through his body. After a the longest breath he ever held Murtock’s snoring continued. He wistfully envisions his mother finding the two intertwined and calling it cute. He begins to construct lies for the scenario, playing it off as a fight the two would bicker on about until lunch then promptly forget it... Tumack clutches to the idea. The very notion it could be real. He pretends remembering it later, and having it warm his heart. It warms him so just to think he could pretend.
He braces his body on his arm and begins his approach, carefully he hoists himself up and proceeds to inch his body through the night air. His feet pivot making a small sound, Tumack eases his approach and gingerly sets down his hips next to Murtock’s. He hovers his free hand across the two and raises the other up past his head. Slowly he aligns his chest on the immaculate lower back of the larger Orc. He begins to rest his head on his raised arm. Finally he places his hand like a crystalline feather to rest on the perfect hips. The heat coming Murtock was brilliant. Tumack almost falls asleep immediately but is interrupted by a grunt.
   “Hmm? Not right now, we’ll wrestle tomorrow. Go to bed.”
It was at that moment Tumack decided he would never be loved back. He knew he could be happy knowing he helped Murtock live the happiest he could be. From the shadows, Tumack could watch every moment go by, drinking in his brother’s praise and living vicariously through his arrogance. Murtock was bigger, older, and reported as the most lethal of the team. Tumack made sure it was that way.
He was unsure he should progress with the nightly ritual he had developed. With two new sets of ears he could be caught. Murtock slept like the dead unless you touched him, so no worries there. Should anyone wake up he could simply hide and feign coming back from patrol, it’s happened before. It would be fine.
He looked around. The moon was starting to fall, it wouldn’t be long now. Mezzick had taken a longer shift by accident. “He must be tired,” Tumack deduced. With that he took off the blanket, savoring the illicit moment out in the open. He usually had a tent, this open vista made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He shivered with excitement. “There they are!” Quietly, Tumack sets the blankets and the bag down so he could grab his brother’s boots.
Murtock was a bigger Orc with larger than expected feet. They were magnificent and Tumack worshipped them. Thousands of steps had turned Murtock’s boots into a putrid temple at which Tumack prostrated himself most nights. Most Orcs enjoyed the earthly scent their beloved produced, It was probably the first thing the rogue noticed about Murtock. That fateful day in the orphanage young Murtock must have protested bathing that day--and won. He proudly carried with him the scent of victory and yesterday’s dirt. Tumack was actually hidden behind the archway as the smelly orc child entered the hut.
Choosing to stay away from the others roughhousing, and close enough to run out. He knew he had no interest in women and just assumed he would never be interested in anything at all. Some children would make a cruel taunt to Tumack for this new (to them) social stigma they could inflict. Exit strategies were key to Tumack’s daily affair. The boys would talk about girls and he would fade into background. But when Murtock walked past him, it was clear his body did crave flesh just as much --if not more-- as the other boys. And it was Murtock's stink filled hide that would sate him.
Every inch of him was magnificent. Tumack was certain that on a lonely night he would even find Murtock’s elbow erotic. But that night has yet to happen and he was happy to steal away a single boot just for now.
He settled back into his bedding and unbuttoned his under trousers, and set to work on his aching tool. Unsheathing the member under the open sky was an oddly exciting feeling. He wasn’t sure if it was the vulnerability of the open air, and new comers that made the orc smile with pleasure; or if it had just been too long since he could partake in his sick lust. He hadn’t been on a mission with Murtock since the Horde war machine said they were building him a team for some mission.
He rearranged his beddings and formed hillock to rest on. Leaning back he exposed his dank hole and placed his finger upon it. Massaging in tight circles he reached for the wretched boot. He could smell the odor from as he lifted it to his face, slightly sour with a calm leathery undertone. As he placed it over his muzzle he could inhale entire sweaty journeys at once. The earthy smelled rasped into his lungs, dirty and rugged it dragged across the back of the throat and set into the bottom of his lungs. The leather smelled warm and smooth, the sweat over it reminded him of the his brother during a fight. Proud and victorious.
His finger had started to pry open the hole-- but it wasn’t getting through. He set down the shoe and reached into his own sack. Inside one of the poison vials was purposefully mislabeled viscous concoction he had designed for this very occasion. A natural lubricant made various vegetable oils. He spilled some of the liquid onto his hand and applied it to his puckered hole and also to the waning shaft. Dripping some extra onto the head he massaged it around, tickling the sensitive area.
Once he was satisfied everything was slick and standing at attention he shut the bottle and haphazardly through it near his pack he resumed sniffing the boot. Surprisingly his olfactories had already acclimatized to air outside of the rancid boot allowing one more pleasurable pungent sour sniff. It’s tangy scent enticing his cock to fully stand once more at full height. His oily hand had left it to massage the scrotum, playing in the grimy sides of his inner thighs and stretching out the tender skin. He sniffed his hand unable to get enough of the robust smells.
He smiled now and closed his eyes. He now saw his brother standing over him in victory from the wrestling match before. He paired it with a bathing scene they had out in a pond one the coast of Durotaur. He saw the glistening cock at half mast and his brother in all his sweaty glory. He was bigger, not but a lot, but in every direction more than Tumack. His thick hands and thick fingers could pierce his wet hole, he imagined as he started to invade his own bum.
He began to insert the finger now, losing grasp on the picture due to the overwhelming pleasure welling up inside him. He pushed in slowly only pausing to savor the stretch. About halfway in he stopped and pushed on the ring of meat causing him to flush with joy. He continued finding the hole relaxed as the body adapted to its nightly abuse. Before pulling out he curled the finger pushing against he walls hoping to find his prostate. Once he was far enough out he straightened the finger and tried again.
Unable to justify not working his cock, he set down the boot and starts to pump himself. Quickly at first, he quiets the young blood in him and remains slow.
“A sound?!” startles Tumack. Opening his eyes but not removing his fingers. He jerks around to see all three still sleeping. “Perhaps being in the open makes one too jittery,” he chuckles to himself. He settles back into the trance, leaning his head over to smell the tangy scent of the boot once more to get him started. Once the familiar scent bites as his lungs he begins to work his tool. He places an internal finger on the his inner walls and pushes into the flesh reveling in the pain and pleasure. His finger slides in easily but slows as he begins to set up the climax. The hand pops out of the juicy hole a half second notice before rhythmically massaging the dirty sphincter.
He begins to imagine his brother again, arrogant smile out naked and lustily staring down at him. Murtock’s imagined hands rising in sync with his own grabbing his cock and pulling slowly upwards. It twists loosely at the top slow enough to allow goosebumps to form before sliding back down. It begins again faster, and occasionally rubbing the hard shaft into the gruff hairy abs. It’s pushed down again this time being pulled down towards his legs over and over again, ravishing the the head of the phallus, sending chills of electric pleasure over his body. His fingers are locked in as the body begins to convulse thrusting instinctively upwards. He grips himself one more time feeling the swelling pushing to let out and finally as the contractions start to arrive in waves he slides his fingers in and watches himself erupt into the night.
He pumps milky strand after milky strand across his chest until he comes to his full. Releasing his organ he feels the uncomfortable over-sensation of the head ripple him with shivers. He lays there breathing the clean night air savoring the refreshing contrast. His heart is suddenly noticeable banging in his ears over and over, its own quiet din. As he calms down he places his brother’s boot back and takes a night dip to clean up.
- 5
- 6
- 7
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Misadventures of Mezzick