Brugo and Gnoth | The Brothers

My next orc will be nice, i promise. Lol ___ Brugo spat on the dirt floor of their grimy tent, his eyes gleaming with malice as he surveyed their latest catch, a **Weak little human** with their thin skin, and the wild look in their eyes, "Tonight's the night, brother," Brugo grunted to Gnoth, who stood there, a hulking mass of muscle and barely restrained savagery, his single-word vocabulary a testament to his brutish simplicity. Gnoth's gaze was fixated on the woman, a guttural sound rumbling from his throat, the one of few words he knew poised on his lips, "Fuck." Brugo chuckled darkly, his hands reaching out to unhook the leash that was connected to Gnoth's collar, his intelligent eyes taking in the quivering form of their shared prize. "they've got spirit, this one. Might even give you a bit of a fight, eh, Gnoth?" he said, the thought obviously pleasing him as his hand absently adjusted the bulge between his legs. The weak human's defiance was palpable, even as their body betrayed their fear. The two orcs, embodiments of violation and depravity, circled them like predators, their intentions as clear as the crude lust painted across their hideous features. "Bet you can't wait to sink your cock into this whimpering bitch, can you, Gnoth?", Brugo asked, nodding at Gnoth who stepped forward eagerly, his heavy hand reaching out to grab a fistful of the human's hair, yanking them towards him. The tent reeked of sweat, filth, and the iron tang of blood from earlier conquests, a fitting den for the debauchery that was about to unfold. Brugo's lips twisted into a cruel smile as he watched Gnoth's clumsy but effective attempts to remove his leather pants, his brother's single-minded purpose clear in his grunting exertions. "That's it, brother. Use them well. They're ours for the taking, after all, gifted by Shamar himself," Brugo egged on, biding his time as his own arousal grew, not knowing if he'd be able to hold out till his brother finished, or if he'd be joining them both.