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The Bartender

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Good bartenders that were willing to work Fogteeth parties weren’t terribly hard to find.  Good bartenders that were human, and that came back to work after a couple of run-away cops brought a shit-show of murder and guns to a party were impossible.  And yet come back the human woman did.  She was the same small thing with wildly colored hair and a drink mixing style to match.  She’d been a hit last time, tossing bottles around like a circus juggler.  And not once had she ever showed any hint of being intimidated.  Orc patrons got treated the same as human or dwarf ones. 

The party was much less eventful than the last one, thankfully. People got rowdy, the mosh got violent, but no guns.  Then the aforementioned bartender came over counter and rode a hulk of a human man to the floor, her knee to his throat.  It had almost been funny really, watching a tiny scrap of humanity haul herself over the bottles and stacked glasses with a shout, sending several drinks scattering.  Amid the shouting, the bartender knocked another drink out of another human woman’s hand, and that was clearly on purpose.

Dorghu watched from a few paces away as she flagged down the bouncers, delivering a rabbit punch to the human man’s face when he started struggling. Even without her explanation, it was fairly obvious.  The man had put something in a woman’s drink, and the bartender had reacted.  Violently.  One of the other bartenders took over, the offending man dragged out with a heavily bleeding and very broken nose.  The bartender and the woman vanished into the crowd together.  Dorghu learned later that the bartender had called the other woman a cab, and waited with her until it arrived.

When she came back, she finished her shift with her usual flair and showmanship, raking in the tips with a wicked smirk. Women had swarmed the bar when she returned, and happy women were almost always a good thing.  The party was still going when Dorghu drifted away, finally having had enough of the noise.  The small back room had lockers along one wall, a mismatched collection of couches and chairs along the other, and a single bar of blacklight in one corner mixing oddly with the fluorescents overhead.  The bartender was there, standing under the blacklight with her back to him.  The blacklight lit up the streaks in her hair a pale electric blue, head bent over a padlock.

She would notice him in a minute, so he took a chance to have a better look at her. She really was tiny, even for a human, and he found himself wondering where she’d found actual military surplus boots small enough to fit.  Then something else caught his eye, a ripple in the flesh of her thigh exposed by her shorts.  Her fitted t-shirt was rucked up, a few inches of her back exposed.  The same ripple repeated itself, and Dorghu recognized it as a burn scar. The corner of his mouth twitched, tugging at the long slashes in his own face.

“Jesus fuck!”  Her startled exclamation jerked him back to the present.  She had turned around, and was staring at him with wide eyes, shock started to mix into her scent.  “I thought big guys were loud,” she muttered, waving a hand in his direction.  “Not… ninja sneaky.” 

He couldn’t help it; he laughed. The smile that cracked her face surprised him, and then her scent changed.  Color seeped into her cheeks and she spun around quickly, rummaging around in the locker.  Dorghu sniffed the air again, head tilted to the side.  It could have been leftovers from the party still clinging to her.  People got frisky in the dark corners, and sometimes out in the open.  But she hadn’t really been out on the floor; she would have smelled like smoke and alcohol, but not the stale arousal that got around with a bunch of drunk, sweating bodies.  The smell was all her, and it hadn’t been there a moment ago.  There hadn’t been a trace of arousal to her until she had realized that he was standing there.

Now, Dorghu knew that curiosity was dangerous. It could get you into all kinds of trouble.  But the scent was rolling off her now, like she could feel him staring at her.  He realized that she had stopped moving, her hands braced on either side of the open locker.  He took a step forward, making sure it was audible.  Her back straightened, her scent spiked—wet, soft musk—but she didn’t turn.

Despite the evidence, he found himself frowning at her back. It didn’t make sense.  Even before the scars, he scared tiny human women.  And she didn’t seem like a thrill-seeker; humans and elves that plastered themselves to orcs for a taste of what they saw as ‘savage’ and ‘dangerous’.  No, she was still standing all the way over there, reeking of arousal.  Dorghu took another audible step forward.  Still, no fear.  Not a trace of it.  His eyes fell on her hand, the knuckles red and swollen. 

“You always been that fast to throw a punch?”

The low rumble of his voice rolled through her, and she tried to tell herself to make the excuse that she should be leaving. She knew he could smell her, and the fact she found the scarred, massive clan leader so intensely attractive was probably going to come off as weird or creepy.  “Pretty much,” she mumbled, turning around.

Dorghu wasn’t even surprised. It didn’t matter what race a person was; the smaller they were, the angrier they were.  “You don’t have to be so polite next time,” he said.  He didn’t really care what people did for the most part, but anything sexual done without consent had always left a bad taste in his mouth.

A small smile curled her lips, breaking into a wicked grin that made her eyes turn sharp. “See?  I knew there was a reason I liked you.”  She slipped past him, drifting to one of the couches and dropping down with a sigh, legs stretched out in front of her.  “You’re the first boss I’ve had that didn’t get pissy when I ‘corrected’ a would-be rapist.”

“Pretty sure it’s a rich human thing that ‘the customer is always right’,” Dorghu said.

She laughed again, a sharp cackle that was oddly pleasant. “Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth!”  She regarded him with a half-smile, hesitantly curious.  Even in the shitty lighting, Dorghu could see that her cheeks were slightly flushed.  “You leaving?” she finally murmured, her darkly painted nails pulling at one of several woven bracelets.

“So I’m forgiven for giving you a heart attack?” He took a few steps towards the couch, and her scent spiked again, thighs pressing together.

“There are worse people to meet in the back room,” she mumbled, not quite meeting his eyes

It was Dorghu’s turn to laugh. “That’s really not something I usually like hearing,” he said.  His head tilted, nostrils flaring.  She saw, and the color darkened in her cheeks.  “You’re not scared of me.”

It seemed to take her a moment to understand, and she blinked before shaking her head. “No.  You haven’t given me a reason to be.  I wouldn’t ever want to piss you off, but… no.  I’m not afraid of you.”  There was something shy to her smile now, but there was fire in her eyes.

He smirked, lips pulling around his tusks. “An orc’s sense of smell can tell him a lot of things,” he said, taking several steps forward.  “I can smell just how not scared you are of me, little thing.”  She shivered, the tremor rolling up her back and making her ball her hands into fists where they rested on her thighs.

“Well… shit.” Her face was flushed all the way to the rounded tips of her ears, embarrassment creeping in among the arousal.  “Look, it’s not—”

Dorghu hauled her up from the couch by the front of her shirt, ducking his head down to cover her mouth with his. Whatever she was by human standards, her weight was nothing to him, barely even straining his arm.  The kiss didn’t linger, but he also didn’t let go of her shirt when he broke away to scrutinize her face.  This close, the scent of her arousal was heady and thick, rolling against him.  Then he made himself let go of her shirt, giving her an out if she wanted one.

Instead, she grabbed his shirt and kept herself in place, rising up on her toes to chase another kiss.  Her smaller, blunted teeth nibbled his bottom lip, her body lining up against his.  She was so much smaller, and hauling her up by the backs of her thighs was painfully easy.  When she squeaked in surprise, his tongue pressed past her lips.  But she recovered quickly, throwing her arms over his thick shoulders as he carried her over to a bare patch of wall.

The breath was nearly driven out of her when she came against the wall. Before she could retaliate by biting his lip, he had put his face to her neck, dragging his tusks along the soft skin.  That, combined with the heat of his breath and the squeeze of his massive hands on her thighs, made it easy to just drop her head back, letting out a sigh of supreme satisfaction.  She smelled syrupy sweet and smoky at the same time, skin salted with sweat.  Blunt fingertips tugged at his shirt, dragging along his shoulders as her smaller body writhed against his chest.

A sharp tug that popped open the button of her shorts refocused her, and she growled her frustration when she couldn’t find skin to put her hands on. Dorghu laughed, slipping a hand into her underwear and drawing two fingers through her slick.  She jerked, trying to grind down and get his fingers inside.  “Sure you can handle me, little thing?” he growled in her ear, a single finger teasing her entrance.

“Why don’t you let me down and find out?” she murmured, even as her hips rolled down against his hand.

“Nah, having too much fun.” She made a wonderful little noise when he pressed first one, and then two fingers inside, her slicked walls clamping down around him.  Her head dropped back against the wall with a thump and a groan, the heels of her boots digging into his lower back.  His hand started to rock, working his fingers deeper while his thumb searched for her clit.

“Oh, fuck yes!”  Her body bowed back, the arch pushing her breasts forward. 

Supporting her with his own weight, Dorghu used his free hand to shove her shirt and bra up her chest, plucking one pert nipple between this fingers. Her cunt clenched and she swore again, eyes fluttering shut.  Dorghu pinched her nipple sharply.  “No.  Look at me.”

When her eyes came open her pupils were blown so wide that her eyes were nearly black, defiance flashing across her face. A thrust of his fingers and a roll of his thumb on her clit made her eyes flutter again, but she kept them open, blunt fingers digging hard into the meat of his shoulders.  Her curses tapered off into wordless groaning, little gasping breaths that drew him in to swallow her noises with a kiss.

Just the knowledge that it was him doing this to her was enough to get her close.  His rough hand between her legs shoved her towards climax, not letting up even as it crashed over her, a third thick finger pressing in.  Just his fingers and she already felt stretched to her limit.  She could feel sweat gathering on her skin, arousal darkening Dorghu’s eyes.  He finally slowed, but his fingers inside kept flexing, stretching.

“Still want more?”

“God, yes…” She was grinning again, like a lion already full from a kill but still hungry for more.  “Condoms in my bag.”  She nodded towards the couch where her purse lay forgotten.

“Prepared, huh?” There was a teasing note to his voice, but she just winked, gasping a little as he pulled his hand away and licked his fingers before letting her down.  He watched as she walked back over on slightly trembling legs, following to stand behind her as she rummaged in her bag.  She straightened, ripping the foil packet open with her teeth while her other hand made quick work of his belt.

She had to pause when she pulled his cock free, marveling at the weight and heat of it in her hand. Before he could say a word, she had ducked down and sucked the head of him into her mouth, taking him as deep as she could.  He twitched, hips rocking into the attention a few times before he pulled her up by her hair.  She was grinning again.  “Hurry up, woman.”

Her eyes never left his as she rolled the condom over the length of him, then took half a step back to shimmy her shorts and underwear down over her hips.   No sooner had she stepped out of them, then Dorghu was turning her around and bending her down, making her grab at the couch as he kicked her legs open.  When his huge hand settled on her hips, she groaned, head dropping forward.  But the angle was wrong; she was too short, and he was too tall.  Pulling her with him, Dorghu sat on the couch and dragged her to straddle him, the head of his cock bumping against her wet folds.

Without instruction, she got her feet under her and grabbed his shoulder with one hand, using the other line him up. The second she began to lower herself, she started swearing again.  Even three of his fingers—all of them nearly twice as thick as her own—couldn’t have gotten her completely ready.  The sharp twinge of her body stretching to accommodate him mingled with the slow, slick slide.  Her head dropped against his chest, her thighs trembling.  And above her, he laughed, doing nothing to help and just watching the tiny human impale herself on his cock.

His hands slid up her sides, spanning her narrow, fragile ribcage. He could feel it expand and contract with each ragged breath, her cunt twitching around him.  She started to whimper, and the tremble in her legs got worse.  Dorghu could tell she wouldn’t be able to keep herself up much longer.  So he grabbed her by the hips and shoved her the rest of the way down, jerking his hips up to meet the softness of her thighs.  His mouth came down to capture the tail-end of her cry, growling in approval when she rolled her hips in his lap.

“So fucking stubborn,” he teased. “You bit off more than you could chew but you went ahead and tried to swallow anyway, didn’t you?”  Her whole body was shaking, nerves on fire.  A deep inhale at her neck filled his senses with her, his tongue dragging to her pulse where he sucked, tusks pricking painfully against her soft flesh.  “Gonna have to be gentle with a little thing like you.”

“Don’t you dare,” she snarled.  She pulled herself up, dragging along his shaft before slamming her hips back down, pulling a gasp from both of them.  “I don’t want gentle, Dorghu.  I want you to fuck me.”

Fuck. He liked the way his name sounded in her mouth.  “Mmm.  Say that again,” he growled, rocking his hips.

“Shit! Whi—which part?”  The venom had left her tone, changing it into something breathless and needy as she rode him.

He bit her neck, dragging raw marks across the skin with his sharper teeth. “My name.  You’re mine right now, little thing.”  He lifted her by her thighs, holding her so that only the head of his cock remained inside.  “Tell me who you belong to, or you get nothing.”

“Asshole! Fuck, Dorghu!”  She squirmed fruitlessly in his hold, body clenching around him desperately.  “You, dammit!  I belong to you, Dorghu!  Fuck, please!”

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her to his face, giving her a kiss full of tongue and teeth. “Good girl,” he rasped, before finally slamming her back down.  He felt her bite at his shirt, trying to use the layers of fabric to muffle her cries.  “Sit back,” he ordered, still rocking her on him.  “I wanna see those pretty tits of yours.”

Still clinging to him, she did as she was told, fighting to keep her eyes open and on his face. His fingers cupped her ass, feeling the ripple of the burn scars and squeezing a bit more gently there.  A whorl of it curved over one hip, and a spindly twisting thing reached towards her chest.  Her tits bounced with each rolling thrust, and he couldn’t resist reaching out to tweak each nipple in turn.  Every time he did, she cried out and her cunt clenched around him.  He let himself growl in satisfaction, leaning back into the cushions of the couch, luxuriating in the feel of her.  So small and soft, but full of fire and need.  Oh, he could get used to this.

“Dorghu…” She was whimpering again, the overworked muscles in her thighs twitching and trembling under his hands.  “Dorghu, please… I can’t…”  She slumped, hips rocking weakly.  Then she was crying out as he surged back to this feet, bringing her with him to the wall again.  The second her back was against the wall, he started moving.  Her cries were nearly constant, nothing left to muffle them as each thrust shoved her hard against the wall.  Her scent was mingled with his now; they’d be reeking of each other by the end, and damn if some ancient place in Dorghu’s brain didn’t love the sound of that.

He felt a tug, and then she had rucked his shirt up to expose his chest, arching her smaller body against him. The skin-to-skin contact seemed to only add to her enjoyment, her hands drinking him as she pressed as close as physically possible.  He could feel nimble fingers finding other scars, her lips mouthing at one near his collar when he leaned in.  Then she bit him.  Her teeth weren’t as sharp as an orc’s, but there was still power in her jaw, pinching his tough hide as she did her best to suck a mark into it.  A chuckle left him at the audacity, raking his short nails down her side. 

Pain lit up along her heated skin, but was almost instantly soothed by the warm palms of his hands. His rhythm slowed, making her exquisitely aware of every inch he pushed and pulled inside her.  A pinch at her nipple shocked another cry out of her, and raked her thinner, softer nails over his stomach in retaliation.  But she never said stop, never told him no.  Her hands at the back of his neck pulled him closer, like she couldn’t get enough of him.

It was impossible not to watch her, the way she never seemed to stop moving. From the heaving expansion of her chest, the tightness of her core muscles, and the bounce of her tits.  And her hands.  Small, but nimble, grabbing for every inch of him within reach.  Then she dipped one between them, plucking at her clit as she met his eyes as if expecting him to stop her.  But Dorghu just started a new rhythm, sharp and hard, wringing a ragged cry from her.  But she didn’t stop touching herself, his eagerness only egging her on.

She came harder the second time, knowing exactly how to bring herself off. Her back bowed, pushing her chest out as every muscle in her body coiled tight, he cries strangled off into desperate, gasping breaths.  Dorghu’s thrusts lost all sense of rhythm, her rapt, blissful expression was just what he needed, and he bit down hard on her shoulder as he came, her curse mingling with his possessive growl.

“’M not… ‘M not gonna be able to stand…” She finally mumbled into his chest, and Dorghu laughed quietly into her shoulder.  The tang of blood lingered on his lips, and he pulled back to survey the damage.  She craned her head to look at it.  “Shit, man…”  But she was grinning as she prodded it, something like pride in her expression.

Shaking his head, Dorghu sat her on the couch, removing the condom and tossing it in the trash. Even after he had cleaned himself up and buckled his belt, she was still curled where he’d left her, grinning like an idiot.  With a snort, he picked up her shorts and underwear and tossed them at her.  She caught them with a smirk, groaning gently as she straightened to clean herself and dress.  He could see the tremble in her legs as she worked herself back into her shorts, and the wide, hand-shaped bruises forming on her thighs and hips.

It was a shame to see her shirt and bra come back down, but the last bite was clearly visible, tiny beads of blood gathering where his tusks had broken skin. Any orc she met would recognize it.  “Don’t forget to clean that.”

“Aw, and miss out on a really cool scar?” She was rummaging in her bag, looking as if she had no intention of moving any time soon.  What she brought out looked to be a miniature first aid kid, and she covered the two small punctures in colorful band-aids.  “Most people probably think I have enough of those though.”  She dropped against the back of the couch, closing her eyes.  Her contented sigh stirred something satisfied and smug in him.  “Would you take it as a compliment if I said walking to the bus stop was going to suck?”

Well, he certainly wouldn’t be insulted.