Spoils of War (closed)

[deevo]

If you want to truly ruin an enemy, tell the world he is destined for great things.

Mogen was born under a killing moon, with the alignment of the stars just right for the druids to lose their minds and proclaim him the breaker of kings and the first of a dynasty that would live forever. So he was taken as a child and trained for the day when he would fulfil his destiny.

Destiny, despite what anyone else says, is a great weight on one's back - a weight that only gets heavier as you grow older. Mogen was trained in combat, in the use of sword and spear, on foot and on horseback. But it wasn't enough to swing a sword; he had to learn how to lead and how to lead wisely. He was forced to think as more than just a reaver and raider, to consider the great defeats of his people and ask himself: what did Man do that the Orc could not?

Some would have called his education an abomination. What good did reading do you on the battlefield, young warrior? What good was learning the tongue of men or elves? They could tell an orc nothing he needed to hear.

Mogen had cut his hair short so it could not be pulled in battle. He had forged his own armour and designed his own helm: the demon mask, the red-faced creature that had haunted his own dreams as a child. Others derided him for the cowardice of wearing armour, for the cutting of his hair.

But those fools were the first to fall when Mogen led his tribe out of the Northern steppes and into the heart of the wild plains, the places where his people scratched out paltry lives of wandering, raiding and violence. He had fought for his place at the head of his tribe, then fought to subdue the others under one banner. It had not been easy, but he had time. He had been young then, too young for some, but those old warriors were gone. He'd replaced them with orcs like himself, orcs with talents and skills but also an unwavering loyalty and - most importantly - the ability to follow orders.

It had been so easy at first, probably because no one ever thought it was possible. What must they have thought, seeing the wave of soldiers appear over the mountains? How could they have possibly prepared themselves? They retreated to their stone fortresses, believing that they could return as soon as the horde got bored or splintered. But neither happened.

The lucky ones starved. The unlucky ones learned that someone had been teaching the monsters siege tactics. By the time the kingdoms of men had unified and raised a defensive, Mogen held four castles and the land between them.

He sat in his bedchamber in a place they called Riverkeep. It guarded one of the few fords in a river that stretched out across a low valley. It had not been an easy place to keep. His brother had died on the second assault; in his rage, Mogen had everyone inside put to the sword. Now he rested, preparing for the next battle and the one after that, eternally fighting until either his army or theirs broke.

He looked back to where his queen lay. Durra had been gifted to him as part of an alliance. She was younger, her body strong and supple. But her mind most appealed to Mogen. She had been touched by the spirits as a child, they said; she could tap into the Other Place and use its powers for her own.

He was tempted to wake her and enjoy himself, but he could not find the desire. Too much was on his mind. His generals were organising the soldiers, but until Arkus returned with his scouts, they were going nowhere. Arkus was one of Mogen's most trusted. He knew how to lead but he also knew the elven tongue, which in the borderlands proved most effective. However, Arkus was late - very late.

Mogen brooded over maps while his generals argued over the next attack, but without proper intelligence they risked defeat. The men were getting restless; Mogen's slaughter had left them without new women or slaves. To them, they had gained nothing by winning this old pile of stones.

However, this day Arkus finally returned. The scout leader wore a fresh wound on his shoulder, while several of his men carried other marks. One was hanging over his horse, his body already stiff.

Behind the scouts came two carriages. And behind the carriage, much to the amusement of the watching soldiers, a number of prisoners.

"What is this?" asked Mogen when Arkus dismounted.

"I bring you gifts, my king," said the scout, smiling despite the pain in his arm. "We were on our way back yesterday when we practically stumbled upon this lot. It was lightly protected, so I decided to attack."

"If it was so lightly protected, why did you lose one of my scouts?" said Mogen, frowning. Arkus's smile slipped, but Mogen simply shook his head and said, "So what did you have to show for your efforts?"

"One of the carriages was carrying a noble and his woman," said Arkus. He retrieved some papers from under his tunic and handed to to Mogen. "The words appear to be a human language."

"I know it, some of it," said Mogen. "This may be of great use to us. How many prisoners?"

"Eight," said Arkus. With a grin he added, "Five men, three women."

"Hmm..." Mogen was half-listening. He glanced at the prisoners. The men seemed hard enough, save for one soft-looking one that he assumed was the noble. Two of the women were concerned; the other, taller than the others, kept her face hard and cold.

"Interrogate the noble," he finally said. "Put the rest under lock and key for now. Take the noble's woman to my bedchamber."

"I thought you would like the look of her," said Arkus, chuckling. "Had to keep from taking her myself."

"The queen will thank you for your discipline. Durra has been searching for another toy."

"And the other women?"

"Take your men to the healers. See to our dead soldier. Then do as you wish. I give them to you and your scouts."

Arkus bowed his head and turned, barking orders at the scouts. The courtyard was a bustle of activity as the carriages were stripped for goods and supplies. Mogen gave the prisoners one last look, then retreated back inside to read the documents.

 

[Suzuha]

Not for the first time, nor likely for the last, she cursed a deer. And not just any deer at that, a very particular one.

She'd stalked it for near half a mile that plump doe as it grazed on ferns and leaves. Downwind, just a fraction elevated, and obscured by a half dozen tree trunks, she'd drawn back the string of her father's hunting bow and loosed on instinct. The arrow's shaft thrummed, the deer's ears pricked, but the shot was undoubtedly the best she'd ever fired and the doe was struck dead an instant later.

That deer would have fed their family for weeks, if carefully rationed. Longer if they'd traded its parts for feed for the chickens and other supplies. That deer would have been a godsend if only it hadn't been a ducal deer. The Duke's gamekeepers never did take kindly to poachers, even when they could bat their lashes between a fiery cascade of curly hair. Suffice to say they were not amused, nor lenient.

But that was not the end of the story, far from it. Clapped in the stockade at Fort Wash she was offered her freedom in return for service to the crown. Refuse and they might have cut off a hand, a common brutality served to thieves of all calibres. Accept, though, and she'd be free after performing a duty for which she was well suited: woods guide.

With the invasion people were fleeing south, some quicker than others. Apparently some noble was rather delayed and their party could no longer risk the King's Highway. So, the lesser travelled roads through the Great Northern Forest were the only way and, as it happened, she was born and bred amongst those trees. Given the options, she sought service to win her freedom.

They'd moved so slowly, though. The carriages designed for smooth travel on wide, maintained roads were constantly snarled on roots and ruts that the woods offered aplenty. If her service was not deemed fit and done by the noble himself, she'd be slapped back in irons and returned to whatever fate awaited in Fort Wash. So, though she swore and damned their progress under her breath near three times an hour, she persisted. Besides, she knew that if it wasn't for her, they'd make no progress at all and the war would eventually envelope them completely.

Then the orcs came. She'd heard tell of the orcs of the north, how they hunted like a pack of wild dogs, scavenging around the leftovers of the great Kingdom of Men. If these were truly the same orcs, the stories had gravely lied. Efficient, coordinated and deadly, they tore through the ranks of guards only deflected by the armoured house knights at the very last. Even then it was a delay and one by one the glittering armour fell.

At point of the travelling column, she'd been ahead of all the fighting by some distance. The guard some metres behind her had been feathered by an orcish archer, possibly assuming him to be the point man. She'd retrieved his bow and thought to help the knights when it looked like they might stop the aggressors but as the seconds passed the situation looked more and more hopeless.

One of the knights, their captain as far as she understood, laid about himself valiantly even as he was flanked by one wielding a particularly wicked knife. She couldn't help herself; a shaft was aloft before her mind even processed what that might mean for her. It caught the flanking orc full in the shoulder causing him to make some gurgling grunt. The knight spun and gutted his would-be assassin deftly, only to be cut down by two more.

Out of hope for any chance of survival, she'd turned to run only to collide headlong with another orc who had been shadowing her.

"Now then," he'd said, grinning ear to ear as he easily wrested the bow from her hands, "I don't think a pretty one like you should be playin' with a thing like this."

The orc tossed the bow into the bushes, then back-handed her so hard that her world upended.

Her senses returned as they rounded up the survivors, now captives to the most fearsome orcs she'd ever heard tell of. Her head still pounded viciously and continued for the miles to come. In such a state, it took her a while to get her bearings and even then the sight of Riverkeep came as a surprise.

Drawn up into the courtyard, she could not believe her eyes. Her father had brought her here years before. In her mind, she could still see the red cloaked soldiers that lined the battlements, the resplendent knights on grand chargers parading through the gate, and the throngs of people tossing handfuls of petals to honour the festival day. A few red cloaks were still present, but their occupants were now orcish not human, and the rents in the platemail that lay discarded near the gate could not have been survived by the former wearer.

Stunned, almost oblivious to the exchange between the lead scout and their leader -- not that their words would have meant anything to her anyway -- she nearly tripped over her own feet as the prisoners were separated and her tethered line was marched to the servants quarters, a stone building overlooking the courtyard and pressed against the outer wall overlooking the river.

The men were separated from the women and their captors treated them none too kindly, shoving and manhandling them out of sight. Just the two of them remaining, a pair of burly orcs including the one who had caught her earlier manhandled them into a small storeroom with a sturdy door and only a horizontal slit for a window high on one wall. One threw a bucket in after them.

"Shit an' piss in that if you need," he grinned as wickedly as before, savouring the girls' discomfort. "We'll be back for you later."

So saying, he slammed the door shut and the sound of key in lock left them isolated from the rest of the world. Their hands still bound before them and moreover still attached to the rope that had tethered them on their forced march through the forest, they seemed well confined. The stores had already been stripped leaving only a few kernels of grain scattered between the flagstones and the bare wooden shelves that would have held all manner of foods and produce.

No chairs, not even straw for the floor, the girls stared at the door for many minutes before the other's legs gave out from under her, wracked with sobs over her lost freedom and fear of what was to come.

So it was that Meredith Woods -- Merry to her friends and family, though they were far away -- came to be a captive of the orcs of the north. She lowered herself next to the other girl whose name she did not even know. She had no words of comfort but she could be close, a little companionship to soften the hardship.

For no reason that she could explain, no tears of her own would come. Perhaps the blow to her head had knocked them clean out of her. More likely, she was still in shock, unable to accept or fully understand what had happened. Even so, a piece of her believed, against all apparent outcomes, that she would escape before long and put all this behind her. All she needed was back in those trees. All except that deer, of course. She cursed the damn deer again. This was all its fault, for sure.

 

[deevo]

The Lady Elisa Lakehall was twenty-seven years old and had married her much older husband, the Lord Lakehall, in an effort to relieve her father of terrible debts. She had little love for her husband, who was too old and too weak for her liking. But even know she would have preferred his company over the brutes who were escorting her upstairs to the master bedroom.

Not that she was aware of her destination; for all she knew, the orc savages could tell that she was an important person. Therefore, she should be allowed some small luxury during her captivity. She was naturally surprised, then, to find a female orc lounging there, a bedsheet hardly protecting her decency. It appeared neither the she nor the soldiers took notice of her apparent nudity.

The leader followed then, as the brutes left Elisa in the centre of the room. He looked her up and down as one might consider a new heifer, then embraced the female.

"I brought you a gift, wife," said Mogen, speaking orcish so that the lady would not understand. It was always more fun when they were caught off guard.

"You always find me the most wonderful toys, husband," said Durra, nonchalant as she strode across the room. She paced around Elisa, examining her much as Mogen had done. Elisa was a pretty woman, long curly black locks falling down past her shoulders and pronounced curves.

Durra suddenly grabbed the lady by the arm and threw her towards the bed. Elisa was forced over the foot of the bed, her ass high in the air. She tried to stand and felt Durra's strong hand on the back of her neck. The orc queen lifted up the lady's long dress, then tore away at her underthings, exposing a pale, round ass.

"She has breeding hips, husband," purred Durra, "and a nice soft ass."

"Unhand, you foul creature!" screamed Elisa, who got a hard smack on her behind.

Mogen stepped up behind Durra and pulled away the sheet, leaving her naked before him. He squeezed one cheek firmly and muttered, "I prefer a tight, firm ass." Watching his queen at work always excited him.

"I know you do," she replied, then smiled. "But I'm sure you have work to do."

Mogen grumbled, but nodded his head. "Don't break her before I come back," he said.

"I make no promises," she answered, then turned back to the squirming noblewoman.

With the generals and Arkus present, Mogen went over the documents.

"Seems the Lord Lakehall kept himself busy," he said. "He's been watching us. Recording our numbers, our movements."

"What about the southern kings?" asked one orc. "Anything about their movements."

"No," said Mogen, frowning. "We still don't know where they are, but at least now they don't know any more about us."

"The main roads south are packed with refugees," said Arkus. "Cowards, the lot of them. But it means the real soldiers are having a bad time moving north."

"We need to find a route south, then, before the roads clear," offered one leader. Mogen nodded his head in agreement.

"These forests work with us and against us," he said. "Every ambush we set, they can do the same. We need to map the land better; you did well, Arkus, but you still got lucky."

"What would you have my scouts do, my king?" asked Arkus. "We're at your command."

"Rest easy for now, like I said," replied Mogen. "Enjoy the fruits of your labour, as the human kings might say."

Arkus smiled and bowed, then headed to where the two women were held.

In the dark room, Annabeth shivered. She was barely a woman grown, now in her second year of service for the Lady Elisa. The journey south had been hard on the girl, for she was a slight, slender thing, her hair spun gold, her eyes big and blue and, it seemed, always close to tears. She cried now, sitting next to the guide. She didn't know the other girl's name, but she was glad for her company in this stinking place.

She had been to Riverkeep several times when his lordship and her ladyship traveled here. She had liked it; stark as it might have been, it was still comfortable and she made eyes at the finely-armoured soldiers who manned the battlements. But those soldiers were dead and their killers manned those battlements now. The sweet boy who'd stolen a kiss from her when last they visited, where was he? Was his head on a spike somewhere? She weeped even harder at the thought.

Arkus arrived at the doorway with three men. He pointed at the wood guide.

"Watch her," he warned the others. "Anything you point at her, you're likely to lose." They chuckled at that, then one grabbed the rope still binding the women together and pulled them up.

They were led further into the servants' quarters, where soldiers lounged and eyed them hungrily. But Arkus's presence made it very clear who these girls belonged to. Let the others bleed out for their own piece of flesh.

In a room illuminated by candles and a number of windows high in the walls, the women's bonds were cut. A pair of buckets sat on a table next to some wash cloths. It was obvious what was expected, but Arkus explained it nonetheless.

"You speak orcish?" he asked, then shook his head. "Of course not." He changed dialect. "Elvish? Elvish. Women must know a woman's language." He pointed at the buckets.

"Clean," he said, then smiled. "We want you clean... everywhere."

 

[Suzuha]

They were not left alone for long, which was some comfort or at least Merry supposed. There is little as cold and unforgiving as stone and unless they two managed to find some perch on the narrow beams of the shelves there was little aside from stone to rest on. Still, she liked neither the look of the four who came to collect them nor the mean sense behind their actions.

She'd tried a little to loose her bonds, of course. As a young girl, she'd played maids and monsters with the other village children and one time they boys had the not-so-bright idea that the maids ought to be tied up. Their understanding of knots was pretty poor, though, and plenty of squirming left the bonds loose and easy to slip, which she promptly did about five minutes later when she was bored of being the maid and fancied being a dragon slayer instead. Unfortunately, these orcs were no boys and their craft was well studied. Perhaps, given longer, or something with a suitably abrasive edge, she could have wrestled free but by the time the orcs returned she'd made as near as no progress at all.

In retrospect, as they half lead half pulled the two girls through the servants quarters' corridors, Merry thought that she should have spent more time trying to get the other girl to help. It would probably have done no good in the state she was in, but as her father would always tell her, "Failing to try is trying to fail." Always pithy, her father; never ten words where two would do.

Merry kept her bearings as much as she could. Indoors was always more tricky without the sun or moon to guide. She needn't have bothered, though, as they just went deeper into the building. No chance to escape offered itself.

It was a small common room near as she could tell. She could imagine that off duty servants might have congregated here to share a meal or sup a short flagon of something fortifying. Then, though, just orcs, perhaps a dozen between the ones lounging at the table and those who had escorted them from the store room. A blade glinted in the candle light and despite herself her breath froze but it was only for the ropes. Free, her thoughts immediately turned to escape but there were the four of them between her and the door and far, far too many for her to even think there was an inkling of chance to fight. Still, she couldn't help herself; all wild things desire freedom as much as they desire the air they breathe.

Their leader, the one who had cut down the knight captain if her senses hadn't been completely addled, grunted at them. She knew it was orcish but the words were meaningless to her. Elvish, though, she knew a smattering of: enough to trade, to ask for directions, though not really to converse on anything else. Still, even if she'd struggled to understand, the water-filled buckets and worn wash cloths would have given her enough. Not that she was inclined to acquiesce. She paused for a breath, wondering how exactly she was going to refuse and if there was any possible chance that refusal would actually be allowed.

The other girl seemed more bewildered. Merry wondered whether she'd not understood what had been said but given the way the girl's eyes moved between buckets and orcs with increasing alarm she started to believe that it was that the girl had understood all too well.

They were bullies, Merry knew. Sure, fine, they were orcish soldiers, even a cut above the usual scavenging raiders, but the look they possessed was one of power over weakness. Merry couldn't stand bullies. Given something to throw and a stretch of ground to escape through she might have seriously considered a hit and run. She'd always been quick on her feet, quicker than most of the boys, doubly so if she could make it to the woods. Here, though, she had no ground, no space, and nothing save the bucket would make any difference at all. Just for a fraction of a second she evaluated the bucket as a weapon before discarding it as an almost useless plan.

Bullies love to extract what they want from an unwilling victim, she knew. Not as much fun if they just get what they want straight away. Well, at least not for some. She hoped.

They were quite different, the girls. The other a willowy blonde with little knowledge of the real world but plenty of experience in looking pretty and tending to her lady's wishes. Merry was practically her opposite: lean and lithe, rough and tumble, a little dirt here, a dash of pretty there, topped with curly fire and hazel eyes. Even the bruise on her cheek did not seem out of place. But though she was the more tomboyish of the two, she had her mother's legacy in bust if nothing else. In the woods, they were just an annoyance, but in town a little coyness and a loosened shirt got her a little more leeway than she'd otherwise have had.

She stepped a little forward, towards the orcs, and a little to the side, partly shielding the girl by her presence. Her elvish was rusty and more than a little crude, but her chin was up and her gaze level as she offered to the leader, "Surely you don't need two to look at, mister. I can be enough, yes?"

She wetted her lips -- boys always liked that -- and slipped a hand onto her waist just a trifle awkwardly. It was a gamble, perhaps even a big gamble, but she hoped that with a little bravery, a little womanly counter attack, that she could defuse the situation entirely.

 

[deevo]

You can train an orc to learn new skills and overcome old habits, but some things don't die so easily. On the contrary, old orc behaviour was sometimes to their benefit. It took a hard soul to do some of the things Mogen's forces had done in this war and Arkus was no different. He believed, like all orcs, that the strong had a right to rule over the weak. Some would say the weak should be protected, but that was not the orc way. A weak orc could bring down a whole tribe; was the whole tribe to suffer for one weak link?

So it was in war time; the strong enjoyed the spoils and the weak just had to make do. The two girls would make good sport for his men and Arkus intended to enjoy himself. He knew it wouldn't be long until Mogen sent him out again; by the time he got back, the girls might be useless.

He didn't know what to make of the tall one's behaviour. Arkus was handsome enough for an orc, but that didn't mean much to anyone who wasn't an orc. But the girl showed a little interest. He knew that she was the tough one, the one who'd grabbed a bow and joined in the fight before a good swift smack across the head knocked her senseless. She was certainly attractive to the scout leader - lean, supple, but with a couple of handfuls of warm, soft tit.

"What's she saying?" asked one of the guards.

"She thinks she can take us all on herself," said Arkus, chuckling. The others laughed as well.

"I bet she could and all," said another. "She looks fierce enough."

"Oh, she's fierce, lads," said Arkus.

"The other one looks like she'd break in two after a few good thrusts. She needs toughening up first."

"You might be right." Arkus considered the girls in silence and smiled to himself, formulating a plan for some more fun.

Annabeth's elvish was poor to say the least, but it was obvious what the orcs wanted them to do. She was almost ready to cry again when the tall girl moved and started making eyes at their leader.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

Arkus turned to the guards and said, "Let me show this little quim who makes the decisions around here." He turned back to the girls and spoke again in elvish.

"You can be enough," he said, looking her up and down. "But I want you clean." He pointed at Annabeth. "She will clean you. She will make sure you are clean all over."

 

[Suzuha]

Merry almost grimaced. Her little strategy was a good one for boys of the village, or even a town guard or two, but these orcs were of a different cast and calibre. So much for hoping that they'd back off when given a little stiff and swift resistance, and now she'd put herself at the centre of their attention. She'd couldn't see a way out. Her heart skipped a beat but she fought not to show it. No telling what would happen if she backed out now and, besides, there was the other girl to consider.

She'd heard the fervent whisper but it hardly seemed the time to explain herself. She was doing what anyone would do in this situation, surely.

Clean was what their leader had demanded. It'd not normally be a request that she'd have difficulty with, but she'd usually bathe in private. She liked to soak in hot water, almost too hot to manage, when the opportunity offered itself. At a quick glance the buckets didn't exactly look like they were steaming, though. So, a cold, public bath. Cold, public, and done by the other girl. And all the while, the orcs would leer and jeer. Still, this could be worse she assured herself.

Actually, yes, it could be much worse and she knew it but she shoved the thought down hard and far. Mustn't think on that. They just want to look. Maybe paw a bit. But look. She was a pretty girl, after a fashion. Not beautiful, at least not in a classical fashion, but she'd turn a head or two in a crowded inn. Yes, surely, they'd just look...

She turned to the other girl, her back to the orcs, and caught her eye. Quietly and as calmly as she could manage she explained, "They just want a show, a bit of naked flesh to jeer at. I know it's not comfortable, and I know you're scared, but I need you to help me with this. To keep us safe, yes? Just... look, I'll undress like they want but you need to wipe me down, okay?"

She knew it was a lot to ask of a girl who was already scared. She tried to think of a way to make it easier. "You got any sisters? It'd be just like helping to bathe a younger sister or something like that. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Merry held the girl's eyes a little longer, trying her best to look resolute, even edgewise nonchalant about it all even though, inside, she felt uncomfortable. And there was the that gnawing concern threatening to leap up and grab her by the throat. Once again, she shoved it down deep inside. She'd be brave for the both of them.

Nothing for it but to comply, so she began to undress. First her overcoat of patched hide slid to the floor behind her, her back still to the orcs. As she reached for the laces to her shirt her heart began to pound in her ears. She held her breath as she pulled the garment over her head, leaving her fiery curls in a mess over her densely freckled shoulders. The freckles ran down the outer edge of each upper arm, rapidly disappearing towards her elbows, and dusted her upper back and chest almost as far as her breasts.

Hidden in her hair her ears began to burn as she divested herself of the soft linen undergarment that kept her bosom in check. She kept herself facing the girl, though the knowledge that she was disrobing to an audience also kept her eyes from actually meeting her's. Her mother had died not long after she was born but her father had described her as a woman of ample charms. Ample would describe Merry's breasts, but perky too. The heat on her ears flushed into her cheeks.

Her boots and breeches, both somewhat boyish but eminently practical for the woods, quickly followed in a rush to get this spectacle over with. Her legs were long and firmly muscled, a picture of one who spent their time running and climbing, and beneath her final undergarments her buttocks were tight. There she paused. It wasn't that no one had seen or touched her private places, but when they had it had been in the dark, fumbling in a hayloft or bundled between furs. It wasn't exactly well lit in the common room but the difference might as well have been night and day.

Merry steeled herself, held her breath, and a moment later was naked. Her sex was well hidden behind a thick bush of russet curls but for her it might as well have been bared for all to see.

To the girl, she whispered urgently, "Please, get this done quickly." One arm covered her breasts as best she could while her free hand masked her sex. Again, she steeled herself; the water would be cold.

 

[deevo]

Annabeth watched with wide eyes as the other girl slowly stripped. Was this what the orcs had demanded? Oh God, did they expect the same of her!? Clearly not just yet, for it seemed the girl had convinced them otherwise. She suddenly felt a great wave of gratitude mixed with fear; if the orcs were not satisfied with just "a show," what would they do to her? Annabeth blushed as she disrobed; if she were to be violated, the young blonde would not forgive herself.

Arkus and the other pair of orcs watched in silence. The redhead had a firm body; supple and strong. Their eyes ran up and down her form as she undressed. A lot of fun, thought the scout captain. But more enjoyable would be the sight of that terrified little blonde bitch having to clean the other girl.

The redhead removed her undergarment and Annabeth could not help but stare at the large bosom. Her own breasts paled in comparison - perky and pleasant, but less than a handful, really. The other girl's, on the other hand, rivaled that of her lady. Annabeth wondered for a moment about what horrors Lady Elisa must be enduring, but by then the redhead was nude. Annabeth looked at the thick patch of curly hair between the other girl's legs and blushed even brighter. She did not mean to stare. She was still quite innocent, despite a visit or two with a noble or knight that took her fancy. The naked human form sparked some fascination in her that the clerics insisted she must keep in check.

She moved to the table and lifted a bucket. It was not too heavy and she placed it by the redhead, then soaked a rough linen cloth in the water. The water was lukewarm at best; it would be cold against the girl's skin. Annabeth stood before her and muttered, "Sorry."

She began with the other girl's face, standing on tip toe to reach up and pass the cloth over her features. Annabeth had helped her lady wash many times, so she knew what she was doing at least, wiping away the sweat and grime of their journey from the redhead's face and down her throat. For a moment she envied the girl for getting to wash, but then felt shame. Annabeth could only guess why the orcs wanted the girl clean and it terrified her.

She moved around the girl, running the soaked cloth over the freckled arms, then down her back. She moved as slowly as she dared, hoping that the orcs would eventually become bored, but it seemed the leader's interest only grew. Annabeth stood before the redhead and let the cool water drip over her breasts, then carefully washed her soft flesh, the linen grazing over the redhead's nipples, the cold causing them to harden. The cloth moved further down, over a tight, flat stomach, and Annabeth readjusted her dress as she knelt before the redhead. Those curls were directly in front of her; Annabeth could see the girl's womanhood and swallowed. She turned her eyes up and whispered, "I'm sorry but... could you part your legs a little?"

 

[Suzuha]

She'd expected jeering, cat-calling, and other crude and blunt sexual commentary from the orcs but all she could hear was their breathing. Somehow the silence was worse than the explicit cussing she'd anticipated. It beat on her ears, or perhaps that was just the pounding of her nervous heart. She had to be brave, though. Brave for the both of them. If she showed them weakness, they would exploit it fully and this little show of flesh would have been for naught.

The girl apologised but she couldn't respond. She saw her glances, little furtive, embarrassed peeks at her breasts and sex. In another time or place perhaps she'd be angry at the presumption but here she simply felt more uncomfortable. Silent orcs and a bashful but curious girl brought out a flush on her cheeks that even the coolness of the water could not douse.

The cloth was rough but not unpleasant, not least due to the girl's tender experience. As dirt and sweat were wiped away, she felt water beading on her skin, trickling down between her cleavage and shoulder blades, tickling her buttocks with their wet tracery. She quivered involuntarily, just a little, at the chill.

The cloth was on her breasts and she found she could do nothing but fix her eyes on the wall opposite, about level with the high slit windows. There was nothing in particular to look at, but then she was not really seeing the wall in any case. It was as though her skin had trumped her eyes, touch and the need to hold down the cold tremble of exposure absorbing her every thought. Her nipples hardened: just the cold, for certain, just the cold.

The cloth was on her belly, but it might as well have been the coarse hands of some new lover. Her abs stiffened and her belly coiled. Eyes burned on her back while rivulets of water felt like ice on her front, adrenalin beginning to course. Merry clenched her jaw to prevent her teeth from chattering.

Then the girl asked her to part her legs. She'd been standing so straight and tall her legs were practically clenched together her buttocks taut as bowstrings. It took Merry a moment to process what the question meant, and then a few moments longer to realise that holding herself in such check was making it hard to move. In that awkward pause, her eyes fell from their wall fixation.

She was not intending to look at the girl. It was more a sort of confusion, wondering why her legs were not moving at what might have been a fair request. But there the blonde girl knelt looking up at her all wide eyed and innocent, cloth in hand with her face not one foot from her groin. The thought of parting her legs in such a position caught her completely off guard, and complying caused to her tremble bodily. A little loss of her stiff composure. Her cheeks might as well have been aflame, the fiery embarrassment even touching her collarbone.

Her feet a shoulder width apart, she closed her eyes. Please could this end now, she wished.

 

[deevo]

Even if the orcs couldn't understand them, they knew what Annabeth must have been asking. The redhead had been standing to attention as if the king himself was coming by for inspection. Arkus chuckled as she finally relaxed, parting her legs just enough for the blonde to keep cleaning.

It was a nice place to see the girl, on her knees. But all in it's own good time.

Annabeth caught the other girl's gaze and her pale cheeks turned red. She mumbled a "Thank you," then lowered her head and began to run the damp cloth up each leg. How unlike her lady was this girl. The lady Elisa was soft; this girl was hard and firm, her body trim and defined. Against her better judgement, Annabeth found herself moving slower than intended. She did not mean to do so - on the contrary, she wanted to end the other woman's humiliation as soon as possible - but she found herself fascinated by the girl's body. As a dainty hand held her thigh, Annabeth ran the linen over a tight, round buttock and bit her lip.

Her thoughts were verging on the obscene. Annabeth had been plagued with such visions before, but had learned to ignore them with prayer and by throwing herself into her work. But she could feel the other girl's heat radiating from her tanned skin. There were scents there, too, unlike the perfumes of the noblewomen: pine and earth, mostly, the smell of the forest and fresh air, of freedom. She was struck with more dark images and shivered.

She washed up between the girl's legs, but only to a point. Any further would have been unseemly.

"This is boring," said an orc to Arkus.

"Well, I'm enjoying myself," said the scout leader. The others would have happily bent the girls over, had their fun,t hen pissed off somewhere else to drink or fight or sleep. But Arkus was more patient. It was that patience that attracted Mogen's attention, ensured his king that the scout would make a good captain. But with his patience came a penchant for slow, enduring cruelty. It wasn't about physical pain, though. Bruises healed; what he wanted was the scar the girl's hope.

"Come on," said the orc. "Let's just do it!"

"You know what? You can piss off if you're not having fun," snapped Arkus. "Go on, both of you. I can handle this on my own."

The pair weren't happy in the slightest, but they didn't dare make anything of it. They both knew that Arkus was a trusted man of the king; laying hands on him would have been a death sentence. There'd be plenty of women soon, they told themselves.

Annabeth stood up and patted the dust from her knees. "I'm done," she muttered.

Arkus switched to elvish and asked, "Did she clean you properly? I said clean all over, didn't I? That means inside and out." He stepped slowly to the table, sitting on the far end of it. His erection was obvious, straining against his leggings. They were patched with leather for long hours in the saddle, but still they did not hide his arousal. He tapped on the table.

"Bend over this," he told the redhead. He grinned. "Spread your legs wide. And your arse."

 

[Suzuha]

Tone reveals a great deal and tone doesn't vary much from language to language. So it was that though Merry did not understand a word of orcish, she knew the orcs were arguing behind her. It didn't last long but she grew more tense, if that were even possible, while she tried her best to divine their meaning or intent without turning to look at them. Their leader spoke the final words, though, and his subordinates stomped out a moment later. Merry breathed a small sigh of relief; fewer orcs meant less trouble, or so she figured. Just the lead bully left. That'd make it easier, wouldn't it?

Mercifully, the other girl left her private parts alone, though her hands felt like they lingered just a second too long on her buttocks. She must be imagining it, she told herself. And then the girl was finished, straightening up in front of her. The last of the water evaporated off her warm skin leaving her chilled, goosebumps up her arms. She shivered again, though not just because of the cold. It was now she expected the orc would demand she revealed herself to him, did a little naked twirl, that sort of thing. She steeled herself for that demand, but that was not what the orc asked.

Was she properly clean, he asked of her. She part turned, still covering her breasts and privates with an arm and hand, to see if she had misunderstood. The orc sat -- one might even say lounged -- on one of the chairs near a long wooden table, eyes upon her. She thought he seemed amused, and not in a good way. A sort of cruel amusement showed in his grin and Merry began to feel fear in her lungs. She thought she'd endured a humiliating public cleaning and that this ordeal would soon be done. The orc made like it was just beginning, and even that which she'd done had not yet finished.

Her elvish struggled with his words but his gestures clarified when her vocabulary fell a little short. He wanted her bent over the table in front of him and as far as she was concerned that could only mean one thing: he was going to rape her. Fear crawled into her throat and clasped icy talons around her heart and only an earlier thought let her do more than stand wordless in response. She remembered, though, that he was a bully and though she'd tried to acquiesce in the hope he'd go away, she tried the only other thing one could do with a bully: stand up to him.

In a smaller voice than she'd intended, trying to mask her fear behind righteous anger, she told him in her best formal elvish, "No. No I won't. It isn't right you do this."

She tried to glare, let him know that she meant business and though she might be naked she wasn't defenceless. Even as she did it, she knew her heart wasn't behind it, but she held her eyes on him for as many seconds as she dared before finding a spot on the wall just past his shoulder. She'd not capitulate to his demands, she vowed, mumbling once more, "I won't."

 

[deevo]

Arkus frowned. He should have expected this; at one point or another, the girl was going to try standing up for herself. She had that look, the look of someone who had taken plenty of shit in her time and refused to accept any more. If he'd tried to simply take her, she would have punched and screamed and kicked and bitten at him all the way through. She probably would have preferred it that way, he thought.

But a smile crept back onto his face soon enough. The girl was tough, but she'd allowed too many defenses down. She had chinks in her armour, the most obvious of them being the tiny blonde whose eyes kept darting from the orc to the redhead and back again. Arkus pointed at her.

"She is not finished," he said. He spoke slowly, to ensure that he was properly understood. "She will finish cleaning you. You will bend over and let her clean between your legs. If you say no again, I will give her to the guards."

It was time to see if the girl knew when to pick her battles. Arkus almost wanted her to call his bluff, only to discover that he wasn't bluffing.

 

[Suzuha]

Where before she had struggled with his oddly accented elvish, or perhaps merely with his better grasp of that language, now he took the time to ensure she understood she did. He was absolutely clear and, as far as Merry was concerned, just as absolutely cruel. It slowly dawned on her that he wasn't a bully, he was a sadist. He enjoyed her suffering, her humiliation. Naked, in a castle she barely knew, guarded by orcs in numbers that would make a battalion fearful, she began to realise that her earlier thoughts of quick escape were embarrassingly naive. Even escaping this room with any shred of dignity remaining seemed increasingly unlikely.

The orc's grin had been replaced with an altogether more serious expression, one that brooked no retort and showed nothing in the way of compassion for her or the other girl. She battled to keep herself from crumbling immediately under his implacable gaze.

Her choice was, on one level, simple. Be washed in her private places by the other girl, or refuse and face the consequences. In fact, she realised, it might not even be her who faced the consequences directly; the blonde girl would, though, and after her then they'd turn their attention back to Merry sure enough.

All this thinking, this trying to see the ends of her decisions, began to spin her head. She was usually clear and calm, even under pressure, but this was unlike anything she'd experienced or even considered. Without meaning, her face began to show her distress, little creases in her forehead, a worried frown, her eyes beginning to dart, all just following the shortening of her breath and the pounding in her chest.

She wanted to think more, to just have a little time of calm to sort her mind, to make sure she was making the right choice. How could she best protect them both? She didn't know, she really didn't. Perhaps she could have cried, just divorced responsibility and let the orc do what he would, but she was made of stronger stuff than that. Even though she didn't know where it would lead, it was plain to her that resisting now would lead to immediately bad consequences, probably for them both. Capitulating, just a bit, just in this, just for now, might give her time and give them a chance.

"Okay," she murmured, first in her native tongue, then a little louder in elvish. "Okay, I'll do it. I'll do it..."

Merry couldn't look at the girl, but she forced herself to ask, "The orc... he wants you to clean me more. My privates..." She broke off, took a breath and determined to finish, "He says you have to clean my privates too. Please."

As she moved to the table and began to bend over, she whispered, "Sorry." It was a poor excuse for an apology, really, but it was all she had just now.

Her breasts pressed into the the table top and she used her arms to steady herself. Her legs naturally parted for balance, though probably not nearly so wide as the orc intended. Her face she hid in her curls, resting her forehead on the rough wood. Nothing to do but wait and endure.

 

[deevo]

Arkus wasn't sure what he enjoyed more: watching the uppity redhead break so easily or the look on the blonde's face when she realised what she was supposed to do. Honestly, he'd hoped for the tall girl to be made of sterner stuff. After all, what was the blonde to her? Were they kin? They certainly didn't look like sisters. Other than the ties of blood and his oath to Mogen, Arkus saw little value in such loyalty.

He was a little disappointed; both women were weak in their own ways. Still, he could enjoy the sheer embarrassment the redhead was feeling. He leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. He didn't touch her; it was far more interesting to see how far he could push someone without raising a finger.

"Move your hair," he ordered. "I want to see your face." He wasn't going to let her hide away. She would endure all of her shame and he would enjoy every moment.

Annabeth shuddered as she watched the other girl bend over. From here, she could clearly see the plump lips of her pussy. No, she chided herself, it's genitalia. "Pussy" is what uncouth types call it.

She took a deep breath and dipped the cloth in the water. It was quite cool now and she wondered how it would feel between the redhead's legs. She glanced only once at the orc, unable to hold his gaze, unwilling to even look at him. He was reveling in both their discomfort like the foul beast he was.

Annabeth began with the rag on the inside of the girl's thigh. "I'm sorry, it's cold," she mumbled, sliding it up. She wanted to run, her cheeks were burning and her lungs refused to take in breath. It was only a matter of time until she made contain with the girl's privates.

She moved the cloth gently and slowly, not wanting to hurt the sensitive areas. Annabeth stood straight as a rod, her legs tight together, as her hand cupped the girl. She knew from her own experiences that this could feel very pleasant under the right circumstances. What if the redhead got excited? Oh no, thought Annabeth, I would surely die!

 

[Suzuha]

The cloth startled her as the cold, wet linen touched her inner thigh. She'd always been very sensitive there and though she knew that this was coming she still found the first contact sent a shock through her. She held her breath a moment, willing the sensation away, but it wasn't her willpower that broke the humiliation for her.

As the cloth moved to her buttocks -- reflexively she tensed at the contact -- he instructed her to move her hair and something in that demand flipped a switch in her head. It was such a simple thing but it was like asking her to shed the last bit of privacy she could reasonable attain, to discard another little shred of decency and one just too far.

"No", she whispered, albeit firmly. Again, "no, stop." Her voice grew in strength and her sudden, uncontrollable fury with it. She was not even speaking elvish, reverting to her native tongue without thinking.

"Stop," she said, her voice level but anger beginning to actually show. The girl paused behind her, sensing the change. Her training made her responsive, ready to adapt to the fickleness of nobility, and something in the redhead's voice reminded her of the Lady when she was cross over something, just this sounded less petulant and more outright furious.

Merry straightened from the table rapidly, leaving the handmaiden to scurry backwards in some alarm. Merry's gaze levelled direct upon the orc, her nudity forgotten in the clear madness of irrational fury directed at the armed warrior.

"No, no more," she said again to the orc. "I won't. We won't." Still no elvish, though in all honesty she probably didn't care if he didn't understand the words; he'd understand the meaning well enough. "You toy, you threaten, you have all the advantages but I won't play any more."

Her finger stabbed the air between them, breasts jolting wildly with the motion. She paid them no heed, bent solely on venting.

"I can see where this is going, you monster. You just want to see how far you can push us, see how much we'll give up before you have to take it. And take it you will, I know. I can see it. Because you're a cruel bastard monster, a hateful beast, and I won't let you."

Her voice a crescendo of desperate anger, she continued, words tumbling out quickly even as she knew that she'd gone too far, "If you're going to rape me then, damn you, get it over with! I'm not going to help you, I'm not going to enjoy it, I'm not going to play. With. You. Any. More!"

She'd advanced three steps, punctuating her declaration with slaps of her bare feet on the stone floor. Her heart was as wild as her hair, her hand not four feet from the orc's face, still pointing. She was still angry, for sure, but the ludicrous imbalance between her situation and the orc's had started to dawn on her. Inside, fear battled fury, but neither quite held the day as yet.

 

[deevo]

Well, now. This was a surprise.

It appeared to Arkus that while the girl's will could bend, she would not let it break. That was fine with him. He'd met plenty of women like this - orcish, human, elf - and at the end of the day, no matter how much armour they wore around their hearts, there was always a gap somewhere. The key was finding the right spot in which to slip the knife.

"No?" he asked, shaking his head. He sighed and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. He did not look at her body, pleasing as it was. Instead, he focused on her face, his eyes on hers. He knew that his stare would outlast the redhead's. For all her sudden outburst showed a spark of energy, he was still in control.

"You said no," he muttered in elvish. "So..."

He turned his head to the door and barked an order. The guards reappeared, glancing from the scout master to the women.

"The blonde," said Arkus.

"What about the redhead?" asked one.

"The blonde," said Arkus, more firmly. "Now do you want some cunt or not?"

They didn't hesitate any longer. They strode forward, cornering Annabeth.

"What's happening?" cried the blonde. She crouched down as the orcs grabbed her; she was light as a feather in their strong grip and easily carried to the table.

"No!" she screamed. They laid her on her back, ass hanging off the edge. She kicked and squirmed, but one orc held her hands down above her head while the other grabbed her legs and forced them apart.

"What do you think?" said the one between her legs as he tore at her underclothes. "Virgin?"

"Nah," said the other, but in truth he was just jealous that his friend would have her first.

Tears streamed down Annabeth's cheeks and she writhed on the hard wooden table. She craned her head back to look at Arkus.

"Please, please stop them!" she pleaded. The orc knew little of the human tongues, but he knew the sound of desperation. He simply waved a hand at the redhead and shrugged. Annabeth's eyes darted to the other girl. "Please help me!"

The orc between her legs gave a whistle. "Will you look at that," he said. "Shaved clean."

"A proper highborn slut, then," said his friend, smiling.

"Well," said the first orc, unlacing his britches. "I'll fuck her like a true lord." His cock sprang free, fat and hard, and he stroked it to its full hardness. Then he spat on his hand and rubbed the saliva over the head of his dick and lined it up with Annabeth's slit.

He howled as he thrust into her and the blonde screamed, arching her back. She was so wonderfully tight! The orc was disappointed not to feel a maidenhead, but she'd clearly not been used much. He gripped her hips and grunted as he started to thrust roughly in and out.

 

[Suzuha]

Despite her outburst, her fierce declaration of their independence in the face of such overbearing adversity, the orc seemed largely unphased. Had he not understood her? Quickly, it became clear that he had.

As the guards appeared, Merry's heart dropped but she determined to stand firm, head up, defiant. As the guards advanced on the blonde, Merry steeled her jaw, pulse pounding in her ears as much as their swift feet. She could not understand their orders spoken in orcish as they were but she believed -- or perhaps just hoped -- that this was all a show, a display meant to scare her into surrender. As the guards hefted the girl's slender body onto the table, she began to waver. Surely they wouldn't. The girl had done nothing wrong. Then, as they tore away the girl's underclothes, as the screaming began, Merry finally understood that this was no show and, after a fashion, they didn't even care if they were scaring her. This was punishment, pure and simple, for not obeying.

She turned to their leader, suddenly frantic. Both girls at once pleaded him to make the guards stop. The orc showed no sign of even responding to their pleas. Merry's eyes flashed to the table, the guard unlacing his britches, then she looked back to their leader again. How could she get him to listen, to stop this? She hesitated and in that moment the girl's scream at her violation mixed with the guard's howl of conquest. She couldn't let this continue.

Merry dropped to her knees in front of the leader, pretty much where she'd advanced in her valiant yet doomed tirade only a minute or two earlier, and she clasped her hands out to him in a time honoured tradition of begging. Earnest, more than a little desperate, she pleaded, "Please stop this. Please! She's done nothing wrong. Please make them stop!"

What form of words would have him order them off her? What could she do to take back the harm now done to the other girl, blameless as she was?

"I'm sorry," she continued, now in elvish, "I apologise. Let me make this right, please. Please stop them. Please!"

She wished her elvish was better, that she had more words with which to beg. The other girl screamed louder as she thrashed beneath her attackers. Merry cringed but persisted, entreating their leader to intervene.

 

[deevo]

Annabeth felt like the wind was knocked out of her with each vicious thrust. The orc was thick and powerful, driving his cock into her with glee. He grunted with the effort; all she could do was whimper as he violated her.

Arkus was watching almost passively, but in truth he was finding the whole thing entertaining... and stimulating. Power was one hell of an aphrodisiac; the power he held over these women was intoxicating.

The redhead had dropped to her knees. From defiance to begging in one fell swoop - of course she begged. It was funny, but Arkus doubted she would have said a word if the orcs had taken her instead. But he was never going to let her off so easily. He was teaching the girl exactly what would be expected of her.

Lesson number one: do as you are told.

Arkus raised his eyes to the orcs, the first one still pumping in and out of the blonde. He raised a hand and quietly said, "Stop."

Suprise probably held the orc more than anything the scout leader could say.

"What for?" he asked, his dick still half-buried in Annabeth.

"Because I said so," said Arkus in a flat, almost bored tone.

"Listen here," said the second, who hadn't even had a chance to enjoy the girl yet. "You may be a big boss, but you can't let us have the girl and then tell us to stop!"

"Why? Because it's not fair?" said Arkus in a mocking tone. "Don't worry, you'll still get something." He looked back to the redhead, leaning forward.

"Your mouth put her on that table," he said in elvish, every word dripping scorn and menace. "Use your mouth to take her off it." He sat back and looked to the orcs.

"Mouth or tits," he said, pointing to the redhead's lips and breasts. "Take your pick, but her cunt belongs to me."

"And what about this one?" said the first orc.

"Another time," said Arkus. "Now, her mouth or her tits. Or you can fuck off again."

"You're a weird bastard, sir," said the second orc, fishing his erection out of his pants as he approached the kneeling woman. "This time I go first."

 

[Suzuha]

When he raised his hand and the guards stopped, Merry thought that she'd succeeded somehow, that her pleas had been heard and they'd end this savagery. The bitter scorn in their leader's following words dashed that flickering hope without mercy. Merry's hands fell into her unclothed lap. There was to be no escape today.

It took her a second to realise that the orc who'd done the holding was advancing directly on her, but the sight of his cock left her with no illusions about his intentions. She turned her head away, unwilling to look this fate in the eye but determined not to cry out or beg further. She'd accomplished something in getting them to leave the other girl alone. That'd she'd drawn their attention back to her was the price, she now saw. She bit her lip.

Her determination was all that kept her from a full throated squeal as the guard grabbed her firmly by the hair and hauled her scrambling towards the table. There he perched on the edge, erection bobbing in front of her face, and ordered in the few words of human tongue he knew, "Tits. Fuck. Now. Whore."

He loosed his grip, Merry shaking her head free. She looked up at him into his expectant, unremitting grin. She hated him -- all of them, indeed -- absolutely. A thought flickered through her mind that she could probably sink her teeth into his cock but she must have telegraphed something in that intent, or else she was simply too hesitant for the guard's liking. He grabbed her hair once more, pulling her closer to his reach, then cuffed smartly across the cheek. Not a solid blow like the one she'd received earlier, but it stung all the same and brought tears to her eyes.

Again, he ordered, "Tits. Cock. Now!"

He kept his grip on her hair a moment longer to let her know who was in charge but she was already too ragged from the earlier clout. She didn't want to be hit again and, besides, she saw no choice. Even if, by some miracle, she did manage to disable this one orc by biting a chunk out of his erection, then what? Did she intend to win her freedom with her teeth alone? Not the way, nor the place, nor the time.

Holding back a sob, she leaned forward 'til his cock rested in her cleavage. It was something of a blessing that she knew what he expected of her. She only hoped it would be over quickly. Merry cupped her hands below each of her breasts and pressed them inwards around the orc's erection, despising the sensation on her skin as much as his unwashed scent, then slowly began to pump her chest on his length. Just short strokes and, at first, too softly.

"Harder, whore," he demanded.

She turned her head to one side, red curls obscuring her face as she complied, pressing more firmly, pumping more vigorously. She would not sob, she vowed. She would not give them that satisfaction. Just cum already and get it over with, she wished silently, while at the same time wishing that the lot of them would just spontaneously die so she and the other girl could escape this place.

 

[deevo]

The orc closed his eyes and grunted, jerking his hips up and down in time with the redhead's strokes. She'd definitely done this before and those soft, pillowy tits of hers were perfect for a proper fucking.

Arkus watched with a studied indifference. The truth was, this had him as excited as the orc being pleasured. The girl had tried to play tough, then she'd tried to act contrite. Now she was paying the price for not following orders. It was beautiful.

Annabeth winced as the first orc pulled out of her, stroking himself slowly to stay erect. "I can't wait to fuck that mouth," he said, chuckling. "Let her have a taste of her friend!"

"Wait your turn," muttered the second orc. He hadn't had a woman - orc, human or otherwise - since marching over the border. He would have loved nothing more than to sink his cock into that furry, wet pussy, but he'd have to be patient for now. Eventually Arkus would tire of his new toys and give them over to the soldiers. He was enjoying that warm skin on skin so much - too much, really. He knew he wouldn't take long to cum.

"Fuck... whore... fuck," he growled in human and orcish, forgetting anything but the heat of his cock between her tits, his precum leaving her skin slippy. He held her shoulders tightly and his thrusts became more erratic until finally, with a groan of satisfaction, he started to cum.

Thick white ropes of spunk splashed over the redhead, painting her tits with orcish seed. He barely had time to recover before he was jostled aside, the other orc taking his place with a gruff greeting of, "Mouth, whore!"

Annabeth lay on her side, her back to the events. She could not bare to see the redhead's degradation but was forced to hear every grunt, to smell the scent of the orcs' arousal and to know that she owed the other girl a great debt.

 

[Suzuha]

She had done this before, albeit once. It had been a couple of years before and she'd been dizzy over a guy -- a younger son of a minor lord, as it happened -- who she hadn't realised had been spinning her on to get between her legs. They'd been playing little games -- you show me yours I'll show you mine, sort of thing -- and this one time his cock was out and dying for attention. The guy had been all cuddly and gentle but a half naked girl and a mighty need must have gotten too much for him. He tried to push the issue a bit, get her laid right there, but even dizzy as she was she was not ready for that, not then, not with him. In an odd turn, they bartered to fucking her breasts, in no small part because she didn't want his cock in her mouth. The more excited he'd gotten, the more aggressive he became, and by the time he came she only felt distaste and a little bit of fear. She avoided him after that.

This time was no different, though the orc's semen was thicker and more plentiful. The same aggression followed by the same sensation of being defiled as the milky liquid spattered her chest and neck, gathering in trickles between her breasts. Her sickened grimace was lost in fighting back a sob.

She did not have time to collect herself, though, as the other guard jostled into position in front of her. Red marks, just short of little welts, glowed on her freckled shoulders where the other had held her tightly. If masturbating an orc to climax with her breasts wasn't enough, letting one violate her mouth was pretty close to the bottom of the list of things she even wanted to consider.

"Please don't," she whimpered, though she'd intended a stronger tone. The orc paid her no heed. His erection stood proud in front of her face as she'd slumped her buttocks onto the floor between her legs. It smelled pungent, though oddly not unpleasant. As his hands twined into her hair, she realised the fragrance was that of the other girl's sex and was likely the only aspect of this that did not revile her.

He slapped her in the face with his cock. She'd been too slow in opening. He slapped her again, the other way. Suddenly, and with alarm, Merry realised she couldn't do this voluntarily. After a fashion, all she had to do was open her mouth and the orc's savage instincts would handle the rest. But she couldn't. Her mouth wouldn't open to let him in.

Biting pain from his hands rough in her hair at last elicited a sob. "Please no," she whispered, small mouthed. She'd tried so hard to be brave, to protect the other girl, but she was afraid. Afraid that her teeth would catch and he'd beat her -- really beat her -- for doing it badly. But mostly afraid that the orc's cock in her mouth would stop her breathing and in his uncaring brutalness she'd suffocate and die. She didn't want to die.

Her chest shuddered, a pair of tears squeezed down each cheek, her eyes squeezed as shut as her lips, the latter firm and denying the orc entrance. She sensed his rage growing, but even as the pressure around her built her ability to allow him lessened.

Naked, breasts covered in an orc's seed, and now threatened with another violation that she couldn't allow. Rationality began to flee.

 

[deevo]

Arkus was not a humble orc. We stared at the redhead, who had been so defiant, so brave, fighting alongside those soldiers in the forest. And now she was a broken woman - naked, stained with cum, tears rolling down her cheeks. He had done this; he had broken her and he'd barely laid a finger on her.

Only the gods knew what would happen if and when he finally got a chance to work on her.

Annabeth crouched behind the table, shivering with fear. She still ached between her legs, but she knew her violation could have gone much worse. She had heard horror stories of women being passed between a crowd of orcs and not suriving the encounter. She wanted desperately to help the other girl, who knelt pleading and crying.

She's there because of me, thought the blonde. I should do something. But Annabeth's legs refused to move. She wished she could turn her face away, but her wide blue eyes were trapped to the scene.

The orc was getting mad. If he got too mad, the redhead was going to be useless and Arkus didn't want that. He sighed and stood up.

"Mouth open!" screamed the orc, pushing the fat head of his cock against her lips, his hands gripping her hair so tightly that he might rip it from her scalp.

"See, this is why they don't respect us," said Arkus to the orc, standing behind the redhead. "Because most of us seem incapable of even the simplest response to a problem." He reached over her head and pinched her nose closed.

She could struggle all she liked, trying to break free, but with one orc holding her head tightly that was going to be difficult. She would have to breathe eventually and when she did, the orc could ram his cock home.

 

[Suzuha]

Survival is one of the strongest instincts. It circumvents all higher reasoning and speaks to the basic functions of the body. In her fugue of pain and desperation she did not notice the leader move behind her, so could not prepare herself for his sudden intervention.

His timing was impeccable, caught just on an out breath so her lungs were empty. She lurched immediately, survival panic wresting her from her pit of misery. Had her feet been underneath, she would have made all attempt to force herself to her feet, to squirm and wriggle and fight her way to the air she needed. But kneeling, with not one but two orcs confining her motion, keeping her down, her feet could not find purchase, the real power in her legs unable to come to bear.

Merry's hands flew to her face to fight the hand that cut her breathing but his grip was powerful. She did not get to struggle so freely for more than a handful of seconds as, between her two assailants, they grabbed a wrist each and pulled them away from her face.

Her lung quickly began to burn for air. She'd never been able to hold her breath for long; she'd often thought it was a good job she lived in a forest where the deepest water was a fast running stream and not on the coast with all that water and the risk of drowning in the sea. Perhaps, had she been more collected, more prepared, she'd have taken a breath through her teeth. Too scattered for such a collected action, temples pounding as her struggles just accelerated her need to breathe, she gulped a lung full through her mouth as quickly as she could.

Not quickly enough. The guard's cock forced between her lips before she really understood her mistake, hot, angry, and the taste of the other girl's sex on her tongue. She gagged, still fighting, arms battling the hands that restrained her, once again struggling to breathe, albeit only for a moment. Survival demanded action once again. Must breathe. But her mouth was blocked. Must breathe. Only one thing to do: bite.

In a rational moment, she might have realised that biting was not actually her best to way survive, but she'd always been impulsive and impetuous. Her father had warned her about it, told her it'd get her into trouble some day. Perhaps now was to be that day.

 

[deevo]

The orc thrust into her mouth with relish. Warm, wet, her throat caught around his cockhead and he groaned. He was building up a steady rhythm and then--

His howl was somewhere between agony and rage. He pulled back and looked down, where her teeth marks were visible on his throbbing dick.

"She bit me!" he shouted, almost not believing it had happened. Still holding her hair in one hand, he swung the other full force across her face, then the other way.

"Bitch!" he yelled at her, barking curses and slurs in orcish until Arkus raised a hand.

"Are you done?" he asked.

"She fucking bit me!" said the orc.

"Yes, I heard you the first time." He glanced down at the girl and shook his head. He looked to the two orcs, one grimacing in pain, the other chuckling. "Get her up, over the table."

They went to work immediately, grabbing her by the arms and hauling her up onto her feet. They dragged the redhead over to the table; two strong hands pressed her shoulders down.

"No, please don't!" cried Annabeth, finally finding her voice. But none of the orcs could speak her tongue and even if they could, why would they listen?

Arkus unbuckled his belt.

"Going to give it to here?" said one orc, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, fuck her 'til she bleeds!" said the other.

Arkus wrapped one end of the belt around his hand.

"And give her the pleasure of knowing she annoyed me?" he replied. "No, I have a better idea." He stepped up behind the struggling redhead and laid a calloused hand on her ass.

"That was a foolish thing to do," he said in elvish. He ran his hand over her rump, then took a step back. "This is the smallest thing I can do to you. Remember that."

The belt arced in the air came down with a satisfying snap across her ass. Arkus immediately followed it with another, raising red welts across her cheeks. The strikes came quickly; he might have spaced them out a little, to better raise anticipation for the next one, but he was more interested in delivering a swift lesson in why we do as we are told.

He swung the belt until her ass was a hot red, bruised and tender. When he was done, he looped the belt around her neck and pulled her straight.

"Now you go back to your hole," he sneered. He looked to Annabeth and pointed at the pile of clothes on the floor, then began pulling the redhead to the door.

The blonde was shocked. Surely he didn't mean to shame the other girl further by leading her naked through the halls? But that was exactly what the orc had in mind, using the belt as a leash.

 

[Suzuha]

Action, consequence. She bit. He hit. Twice. Yet even as her cheeks bruised, she felt a tiny twinge of victory. Or perhaps that was just the oxygen rushing to her head mixing with the pain induced endorphins. There was a fury going on right in front of her but it seemed quite far away, something in the next room, an almost dreamy quality to it. Those strikes must have dazed her more than she realised.

Then they pulled her up, pressing her body into the table, just leaving her legs trailing over the edge. A tiny, alarmed voice in her head tried to tell her that they were about to rape her and she automatically tried to struggle, albeit ineffectively against the power of the two strong guards pinning her shoulders and arms. She flicked her heels, but her feet slipped on the stone floor and gave her no leverage. Head still swimming, she steeled herself.

The belt came as a sharp, painful surprise.

Her father had thrashed her before, once even with his belt. He'd held back, of course, and part of her knew that he'd felt so shamed by it that it had never happened again. It had been a hard, dark, hungry time, a time when thieves would lose hands for their crime and Merry had taken to filching food. Perhaps he'd thought that it would make her stop? After a fashion, it removed his desire to punish his daughter ever again. She did stop, for a while, so shocked by the treatment, but inwardly she'd begun to realise that it'd not happen again and she'd grown more wild because of it.

This was like that, but much worse. Belt on bare flesh, swung with intent and frequency, each crack ricocheting around the common room's hard walls. The first, the second, even the third she managed. She grit her teeth and kept her voice to small, involuntary yelps. The fourth, though, caught across the line of a previous stroke and she howled. The pain rushed through her like a wave, crackling out each toe, shooting along each hair on her head. Her father had stopped then. The orc did not.

She did not, could not, count the strokes. More than six. Less than twenty. Her entire body trembled and her head span. She wanted nothing more than to cover herself, protect her buttocks, now glowing red with parallel, overlapping welts. Even after he stopped, she felt the echoes of the strikes in every nerve.

He pulled her upright, his belt an impromptu collar. Her face was streaked with tears, though she did not remember crying. Her hands moved automatically to her backside only to find that touching herself just revived the pain. She sucked in breath with a hiss, lips trembling, more tears not far away. Light headed, almost dizzy, her unbelieving eyes tried to focus on the room but kept sliding away like she was drunk, euphoric on the pain.

The belt tightened around her throat as he used it to guide her and she stumbled to follow. One hand at her throat to keep the belt from throttling her, the other at her ass as though she might keep it safe from further pain, she struggled naked into the hall but still seeing the world as a haze. Oblivious, temporarily, to her nakedness, to the drying cum across her breasts, she let them lead her, bosom bobbing at each uncertain step.

Distantly, slowly, she snagged a drifting thought from the haze; she still felt like she'd won, somehow.

 

[deevo]

Arkus walked slowly, so that each soldier in the halls and in the courtyard could see her completely. They stared at her, taking in every inch of her naked form. Some licked lips, other simply stopped and stared. A few shouted insults in orcish and the few words they knew in the tongues of men.

But most of them were silent. The redhead half walked, half staggered behind the scout captain. Her ass was streaked with burning, raw red. Arkus did not seem to pay her any attention, nor did he consider those watching. He kept his eyes straight ahead, back straight, trying to avoid any swagger. But in a way he felt like the chieftains back home, parading their women and slaves for all to see. It was a sign of wealth, like the rings on his fingers and bands of gold on his arms, or the quality of his armour.

Almost no one paid Annabeth any attention. She stepped slowly behind the pair, keeping her eyes down, clutching the redhead's clothing to her chest. She shook with fear that she might be next, wracked with guilt that the other girl had suffered for her. She knew it was a debt she couldn't pay.

Mogen watched them from a window in his bedchamber. Arkus' women were striking in their differences, but both appealed to the orc king. He shook his head slowly; his scout captain had some strange desires.

Not that Mogen could judge.

Lady Elisa was on her back, hands bound by rope to the bed posts. Her dress had been torn to shreds; Durra was grinding on Lady Lakehall's face, her moans matching the human woman's groans and whimpers.

"Oh, you've done this before," purred Durra, pinching her long, stiff nipples. "Mogen! Mogen, come and fuck her! I want to watch you fuck her... Mmm, I want to taste her on your cock..."

Mogen chuckled. His queen was insatiable.

Arkus stopped at the makeshift prison cell. He removed the belt from around the redhead's neck, then shoved her to the floor into the small room. Annabeth didn't need to be told; she rushed past the orc, head bowed until the door was shut tight. She ran to the other woman's side, trying to hold back tears, and wrapped her arms around the redhead.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she cried. "I'm so, so sorry! You saved me! I owe you so much!" She hugged the redhead tightly, momentarily ignoring her nudity.