You’re still stuck against the ogre’s slimy, smelly armpits, futilely struggling as he rubs your face against the voluminous damp hair, listening to the other ogres laughter. It smells horrible, but you can’t escape. You try to hold your breath, but you can still smell his rank musk.
The fat ogres enjoy watching you squirm. “Mm, he’s kinda cute.” One says, “Hehe, for a human.” You can feel big, meaty hands grabs you and pull you away. At first you’re relieved, but soon are thrust into another armpit, “I want him to smell mine now!” The booming laughter of the ogres echoes in your head as you’re forced to endure the foul stench. “Gahaha! Having fun down there champ?”. Soon, other ogres start chiming in, “I want him to sniff my pits next!”, “Me too!” Before you know it, you’re being tossed around from ogre to ogre, forced to spend minutes of time under their pits, engulfed in awful stink.
“Gahaha, this human is the best sweat rag ever!” One remarks, rubbing your face up against his armpit like it’s a sponge. He finally drops you to the ground, taking a whiff of his own pits in the process, “Ahh~, that’s the stuff.” You cough and splutter, feeling grossly damp and sticky, but relieved to have fresh air, “Great,” you say, exhausted, “Now can I go?”. Murk grunts, “Nah, you’ve done such a good job of wiping off our sweat, I think you ain’t cut out for this line of work.” He chuckles, grabbing you, “How about you come home with us? It’s better than this joint.” You growl angrily, “Ae you crazy? No way in hell I’m going with you guys.” The ogres laugh again, “Aww, how cute, the humie thinks he has a choice.” Murk chuckles as he suddenly reaches to grab you.