Surprisingly enough, you still had the note in the back pocket of your shorts. You took a long look at it. You swear the handwriting looked different but it probably had to be your imagination playing a trick on you.
Apparently this package was for one of the students residing in Floor 12+1, Markus Strong. It had a specific instruction written on a footnote. “If the orc doesn’t answer the door, leave the package inside his room.”
Wait, hadn’t you just met an orc named Markus? The one who had called you Jiggly Cheeks and slapped them hard. You rubbed your butt, feeling pain just remembering about it. You hadn’t heard his surname but knowing your stroke of luck today it was totally going to be him.
You sighed and searched for his room. After getting lost in the hallways twice and asking Cyan for directions, you finally reached the correct room.
You knocked on the door. “Hello? Markus Strong? I have a package for you.”
No answer.
You tried again and got the same results. That perplexed you, considering that after the elevator incident you overheard Markus saying that he was heading back to his room.
“Hello? Markus?” You knocked on the door repeatedly. You also tried turning the knob to no avail, the door was locked tight.
The instructions said that you should leave the package inside his room, but there was no way for you to open the door. “(Oh, well. I’ll just leave it in front of the door and get this over with. I want to get out of this madhouse.)” You thought to yourself.
You were about to drop the package when suddenly the sound of multiple locks snapping in half was heard.
The door opened, seemingly by itself, as there was no one on the other side. “Huh?” You were left once again dumbfounded. You took a peek behind the door and noticed lots and lots of very secure locks and chains on the floor. They were all broken and useless now, as if an intangible being had slashed them in pieces just for you.
“You’re welcome.” An invisible force whispered in your ear.
“(Crap, not this again.)” You headed inside Markus' room and closed the door behind you, fearing someone would get the wrong idea if they saw you standing there.
There was no sign of Markus anywhere in his room, so you left the package on the floor but you couldn’t help to notice that there was a very musky scent invading your nostrils. The entire room smelled like a boys’ locker room after a football match. Visually though, the room looked like a personal gym. There were lots of exercise paraphernalia lying around, dumbbells, a boxing bag and worst of all, used and forgotten towels and jockstraps.
“(Yuck, this room is making me feel queasy. It has such a sweaty, sporty atmosphere.)”
The walls were plastered with posters of bodybuilders flexing. A tall mirror was on the side, surely used by the proud jock of an orc to admire his own green muscles.
In a way this place was like a museum. A museum dedicated exclusively to the nurture of the male body. Which was likely the reason you were not surprised to see a green sculpture of a muscular torso standing in the middle of the room as the big centerpiece.
The torso was incredibly detailed. Every single muscle and every single hair was delicately represented. It was huge, manly and hairy. The pectorals were gigantic, its nipples perky and inviting, the eight pack of abs perfectly chiseled. It was, in your unprofessional opinion, an exact rendition of the most perfect male torso you could’ve ever imagined.
The torso was there, sitting on its pedestal, awaiting for people to admire it. You took a closer look at the perfect figure in awe. It was male perfection itself. You wondered if you were even worthy of seeing such a handsome figure.
You looked further down and your mouth fell agape. No, you weren’t looking at his gigantic schlong that even in its flaccid rendition was already almost touching the floor (although it was difficult to not see such a member!). No, you were looking at what the plate on the pedestal said.
“Markus Strong”
“(Holy shit, he commissioned a sculpture of his own torso! How much a prude can you be?)”
Yes, having a sculpture of your own naked torso as the centerpiece of your living quarters could seem prudish. But the more you admired the torso, the more you thought that maybe Markus just wanted to share his own beauty to serve as an example to other men.
“(Damn, I’ve never been much into guys, but Markus really was hiding the perfect body under his tight clothes...)”
Staring so intently at Markus’s perfect male body without Markus himself being present felt somehow like you were invading his privacy, but it was hard to unglue your eyes from this beauty. You circled around the headless, limbless sculpture, savoring everything with your sight and taking a deep sniff off the smell of muskiness that filled the room.
When you saw the back of the torso you noticed something interesting. Not only was his back as equally muscular as the front, but Markus’ huge buttocks had been meticulously represented as well.
You remembered when Markus had called you Jiggly Cheeks. You were sure Markus would be Humongous Cheeks in comparison. Recalling the slap that Markus had given you, you decided to deliver some karmic justice by slapping the sculpture’s ass.
A loud slap sound was heard and the green ass jiggled for a few long seconds...
Wait, what was this sculpture made from? It felt squishy to the touch... You couldn’t believe how life-like it felt...
“It’s a perfect replica, isn’t it? You could fuck its ass and it’d feel just as amazing as the real thing.”
It was that mysterious voice once again, never taking an eye off you since you took your very first step in Stonewood. And for the first time since you began hearing it, you agreed with him completely. You don’t know if it was the musky smell, which you just now had realized that it was emanating directly from the sweaty torso in front of you. You held the torso and it didn’t seem to be attached to the pedestal in any way. You could just throw the thing into the bed and have the time of your life.
“(Fuck... This must be some sort of sex toy... Markus likes his body so much he made a sex toy out of his own perfect torso... Damn, I swear I’m smelling pheromones or something, why am I so turned on so suddenly...)”
Markus’ torso reeked of manly musk and sex, specially the hairy armpits and the pubic bush. You couldn’t help it. You grabbed the orc sex toy and threw it into Markus’ bed. It was big, heavy, and the sweat all over it made it slippery but it didn’t matter. You needed to taste it. You needed to make that perfect torso your bitch.
***
Markus was utterly terrified. He didn’t know how this simple human had broken all of his room’s security measures, but now this guy was about to make use of him like he was a simple sexdoll!
Markus always locked himself in his very own room with five different locks right before his curse kicked in. While his curse was in effect he’d lose his head, arms and legs. His ability to move was restrained at the beginning of every transformation so until an hour or so passed he was very vulnerable. As an extra step of caution he always put himself on top of a pedestal with his name on it right before he transformed, that way in the off chance that someone managed to enter his room they’d know it was him and leave him alone before his heightened pheromones would cause them to do anything stupid.
However, this human had got the completely wrong idea.
Markus had always found solace in the fact that even when he was his own torso he could still feel, hear and see as if his body features were a giant face, that way he wouldn’t suffer in a dark, silent world. His perky nipples acted as eyes he could use to see around him, his armpits served his ears and his bellybutton could move as if pantomiming a mouth, but this last thing didn’t serve him much purpose during the first hour of his transformation where he was completely unable to move by himself.
Even so, Markus had been trying to move, to communicate in any possible way since the human had entered his room. However, his little muscle twitches had gone completely unnoticed and his fear only caused him to sweat more rapidly, liberating even more sex-crazed pheromones in the process.
Maybe this is what the guy who cursed him intended. He wanted the prude jock Markus to feel as vulnerable and helpless as the people he had bullied in the past...
(“Oh god, why...?!”) He wanted to scream, but his belly button “lips” didn’t articulate any sort of audible sound so he was denied the privilege of voicing his despair.
***
You had already gotten naked. You were feeling unusually horny, the musky smell making you feel like a completely different person. You got on top of the torso and gave his sweaty pectorals a lick. You needed more of that musk on you! You squeezed his nipples hard and buried your face in the hair of his armpits. You grabbed the torso’s balls and tasted them. You squeezed them hard, whatever this material this sexdoll was made of, it felt very realistic.
“You taste good, Humongous Cheeks, but it’s about time you honor your name.” You said with a smirk as you flipped the torso over and found yourself face to face with two giant glutes trying their best to hide the tight treasure they hid underneath them...
“Hehehe, go on, have a feast with the orc stud. It’s just a sexdoll, an inanimate object, it doesn’t feel anything, you can be as rough as you like... Nobody will complain...” The whispering voice said and you couldn’t agree more with it.