Captive of the Orc King

by Trevor Zex

  She convulsed on him out of control.

  Roaring, arching like a bow over her, he released her wrists.

  He ravaged her breasts and bit her throat. He pounded her silky, tight, virgin core.

  He sent a war cry to the heavens, spearing her and shooting deep into her womb.

  The monster orc filled her burning insides with his seed.

  Gasping, he rested over her, taking care not to crush her with his weight. He rubbed her wrists and kissed them.

  His lips grazing the insides of her wrists across her veins inflamed her. Teza closed her eyes and dug her nails into her palms. Deep in the night before her bride journey, she slid a blade there. She watched the candle flame play over the sharp metal and single drop of blood. It relieved her against the horror of losing everything to journey to an unknown man as his bride.

  She bit her lip, her tenderness pulsing on the cock that opened her. Despite the soreness, she looked forward to him taking her again.

  “You made it fit.” She ran her hands down his muscled back, stretched to squeeze his firm buttocks. “You made it fit.” She murmured, delirious.

  “Oh yes, my warrior princess, you fit me right—so passionate. So tight, so hot, so beautiful.” The cadence of his voice seduced her.

  The deep rumble took her into a deep, sweet bliss. The sensation exceeded anything she imagined with her fingers busy under the covers. In the palace, she grew to womanhood so lonely. Now, in the strangest way, she found her match. Not a bridegroom chosen before her birth, but the hero of a fairy tale.

  “I don’t understand how this happened,”she whispered. “I was on my way to my bridegroom.”

  “I know.” He raised his brows and smiled, gave a small shrug.

  “My life must fulfill the will of my parents, and I must guard my people.” She struggled to retrieve her voice from the hoarse, wanton woman that had taken over her body. “I had my role and my place in my world. You took my life purpose from me, you tore it from me. Then you made me want you. You made me ache and desire you.” She stared at him, shaking.

  “I’m glad of that. I wanted you before I saw you.” His big voice became tender. “I saw in a vision that I should take a princess. You, Teza. You are for me. You’re fated for me.”

  “You mean that?” She touched her throat in wonder. This was like a fairy tale.

  “Yes. Together, we may bring peace. Your people aren’t at war with your intended bridegroom. Your people have hated and feared orcs for all their generations. Your kind think nothing of invading our territory, harming our land, and killing us. With their princess as my true bride, they may hesitate to notch their arrows. They may hesitate to throw their spears and hack our young with their swords. They may hesitate to burn our forests.” He stopped, his breath fast, his body tight.

  “Am I then a hostage?” Her languor from being ridden hard shot to tension.

  He smoothed the hair back from her face with gentle care. “Do you see me as such an ogre that I would take you away from all you love—and keep the mother of my babies a hostage?”

  “Mother? You mean—?” Her voice broke. “You might have made me, I could—. Your kind and mine.” She couldn’t get the question out.

  The throbbing ache and his juices oozing with hers made it real.

  “Yes, we can mate with humans, I just did.” He smiled and caressed her face. “You will have a batch. Be peaceful in your mind, my love. Our beliefs are not so different from your own.” He gave her a lingering kiss, and arched back to show her his face. “We will marry. You were wrong. I do have your bride price.” His voice was kind. “I will give you your servants, and your guards. I will gift you your horses, carriages, treasure, and your freedom, as well. I will send a scout to fetch your sword.” His smile sent the stars through his pupils. “It is a handsome bride price.” He rested his hand between her breasts and kissed her, taking his time.

  He arched above her, stretching his back, his face so relaxed he looked young as Karn. Her gaze slipped from his eyes to his tusks, to his muscled torso, to his cock still embedded in her.

  “A batch,” she whispered.

  “My mother was human, from a family full of multiple births.” His teeth glimmered in his proud face. “In my father’s line, we have two to four orclings each time.”

  Teza’s eyes rolled back. She fainted.

  He pulled her close, holding her with his chest full and his body sated. No one would harm her while he drew breath.

  His Teza was his fated bride. He would never let her go.

  A shooting star streaked outside the cave. Shellaq purred, keeping guard over her orc and his new mate.

  “Rest my love,” he crooned to his beloved. “You will need your strength for all that is to come.”

  Attack of the Orcs

  Warrior Princess 2

  by Trevor Zex

  THE PASS

  THE EERIE CALLS OF large night birds repeated from one side of the pass to the other. Princess Teza resisted the urge to rest against Gark. She avoided leaning forward, suspecting that if she got too close to his mount’s head, the sharp-toothed beast would snap at her. Nothing with a ring of teeth so sharp could be fully tame. A wind blew over them, making her nipples harden painfully.

  “Get down,” Gark growled.

  She hesitated, but his voice compelled her to grasp his mount’s neck and flatten herself. The animal’s rough coat warmed her as her heart drummed in her ears.

  Her orc captor urged the beast off the trail and under an outcropping of rock protruding like a hip on the mountain. Around them, orc warriors fell silent and left the trail. Despite the tension, their discipline impressed her.

  A great shadow filled the pass. Rocks tumbled and boulders rolled, barely missing them before crashing down the cliff.

  A flash of silver shot fast as lightning in the night sky. Her heart pounded faster as the creature flew close, beating huge, black bat wings that ate light against the stars. The creature had claws at the tops of wing veins. Sharp silver-capped fangs glowed red as the dragon shot fire.

  The black dragon wore a spiked collar.

  Teza shuddered. Whoever owned the beast must be powerful beyond measure.

  Where they had ridden in the narrow mountain pass, snow turned to slush and slid over the cliff. A dreadful dripping sound followed.

  They all, including the foul-tempered mounts, remained soundless and squeezed as far against the rocks as they could get.

  The wing-wind passed over them. The dragon claws at last disappeared from sight.

  Her mind insisted she saw blood on them, but she didn’t know.

  Someone owned that beast, as the orc warrior owned her. A clammy chill spread down her back.

  “What was that?” She spoke low, her voice shaking.

  “Hush,” Gark warned.

  She held still with an effort.

  The birds stopped calling. Wind slammed against the orc party.

  Her hair stung her face, and her tunic flattened on her body. This time, knowing what caused the wind, she felt chilled to her bones. She pulled the blanket Gark had given her over her face. As in years long past, she hoped if she did not see danger, it would not see her. The wind whipped harder than the dragon’s first pass over them.

  The dragon flew low, searching for us. She knew it inside. Somehow, she knew they were its prey. She held her breath, every muscle tense. She fought the urge to swallow. She didn’t want to make the slightest sound.

  The flapping of those huge, leathery wings kept her frozen. Trembling, she held the neck of Gark’s mount and it endured her, silent as the warriors. Tremors ran through its powerful body.

  A blast of flame hit nearby stones and turned the jagged rocks molten. They glowed volcano-orange. A sulfurous odor of burning evil doers and demon tormentors blew into her face.

  Her mind filled with lush, too-vivid images of torture and flaming halls of the underworld. Weapons of battle covered in blood. Chained prisoners writhin
g under the lash. Demons striking naked flesh with barbed whips and sharp rods. The torturers capered with pleasure at the screams of the guilty.

  She strove to control herself, feeling as though some other presence filled her mind with torment. The tortures consumed her, metal-tipped lashes drawing blood on muscled backs, full breasts, a strong chest, a fornicating couple at their juncture. She woman arched, babbling as the man pounded between her bruised thighs. He pulled out, brandishing a sharp-tipped erection, and plunged deep into her again, making her cries rise over the horrific din. Howls filled her, shrieks, and the savor of roasting flesh. She swung between fear and heat, delirious and quivering. The presence of Gark so close to her ass added to the torment.

  She wished they were alone.

  The torture orgy faded. No more dragon flames struck.

  Princess Teza took a long breath. The sulfur stung her nostrils and throat, but she needed to breathe. She needed to celebrate that they lived. She sneaked a look from under the blanket.

  The wings flapped hugely, bat-like. The long neck and pointed tail slithered through the air in retreat. The giant nightmare, airborne and lethal, headed away from them.

  The powerful, writhing tail looked as sharp as the demon’s cock.

  A jolt went through her, from her wide spread legs to the top her head. She clamped her lips shut.

  Gark didn’t need to hush her. The dragon might yet circle back to attack again. She sat stone-still and waited with all the rest, proud of her people. None of them had endured an encounter with a dragon before this. None spoke, none whimpered. They all waited, hearts oppressed. The part of her sure they would live egged her to turn and embrace Gark. She held still against her desire.

  He clasped her shoulder and squeezed it.

  The sound of wings came again. She flinched and kept her lips pressed together.

  The owl’s wingspan was longer than her body, but it appeared small in comparison to the fire-breathing worm. Recognizing the flying thing made her giddy. Such an ordinary creature after facing the unimaginable—the biggest, most frightening dragon, a living horror out of a story book.

  Now that it had passed them, she recognized something else. When it flew near, she’d sensed the dragon was directed by an intelligence with unspeakable malevolence.

  “That was Fang, Neesa’s familiar.” Gark sounded as calm as though he’d merely waited for an uninvited guest to depart so they could converse.

  It comforted her that he remembered what she wanted to know, that he seemed to respect her. She hesitated to speak, as though the hunting dragon might return at any moment. “Neesa?” Her voice sounded weak and squeaky.

  “The sorceress Neesa holds dominion from the mountains to the sea. Soon, she may control all the lands. She captured most of the goblins of the north. They’re her minions now. If you see creatures smaller than orcs, misshapen in their bodies and with terrible eyes, call for me and run for your life.” His hand tightened on her shoulder. His breath warmed the side of her throat.

  Her pulse quickened. “Yes. I will.” The thought of running from anything went against her nature.

  She accepted his wisdom. Without her sword, if she found herself outnumbered by evil creatures, fighting would be futile.

  The grim warning from such a huge and powerful being struck fear in her.

  She did not scare easily. Growing up in a lineage of warrior queens, sparring with her cousin and weapons master taught her to be brave and think on her feet. She learned to do what must be done.

  This night, filled as it had been with creatures of fairy stories, gave her the most chilling nightmare moments of her adulthood. She did not feel brave at all. She was shamefully grateful to have Gark at her back and his mount under her.

  Mindful of the faithful creature that carried them, she dared to rest her hand on its neck. The thickly-furred animal seemed not to mind, so she petted it, hoping to be soothing. The animal had performed well.

  Gark kissed the nape of her neck. He gave her warmth from his lips and his hands stroking her shoulders.

  The heat filled her, relieving the chill and fear. Tension flowed into the mountain to the bones of the earth, leaving her renewed.

  “It’s all right now.” His breath caressed her at the opening of her tunic in back. “The danger is passed.”

  “How can you be sure?” She didn’t like that her voice quavered. She didn’t sound like herself at all.

  “I am a mage, Teza, I sense things. When Fang came close, I kept myself cloaked from Neesa and aligned my mind with him. It cost me.” He sounded tired. “It may prove worth it. If Fang approaches, I will feel him before he gets too near to kill us.”

  “Do you think he wants to kill us? “

  “By Neesa’s will. Yes, I believe so.”

  “Why?”

  “Because many of us in my city are mages. The sorceress can’t bend us to her will and add us to her army as she’s doing with others throughout the land. If we grow strong enough, or augment our powers with alliances or power objects to counter her spells, we may overcome her reign. With enough power, we could break her hold over her legions and end her grisly expansion through our territory.”

  “Grisly?”

  “Her goblins are fond of dismembering anything in their path. Those they don’t torture and kill are made captive. They force chained captives to tunnel through the mountains. They mine treasure for Fang and raw material for some dread machine that will give her power over all of us. Along with goblins, vampires of several species, and select animals, she turns full-blooded orcs to her bidding. Most orcs lack our ability to use magic for protection. They’re too warlike for us to help them.”

  “That’s horrible. Does she control any of my kind?” The thought of being controlled by an evil sorceress made the pit of her belly sink.

  “It’s rumored Neesa possesses a king to the north who owns weapons that destroy warrior legions with one blast. She might be amassing an army of your kind to join the rest of her force. If her power increases by much more, she will crush even us.”

  “This is dire news.” Questions surged through her mind.

  “Yes, it is indeed. Given the blood-thirst of your kind, it shouldn’t be too much of a shock, except that now you’re the prey, instead of the hunter.” His voice grated with suppressed rage.

  “I didn’t know orcs could be mages. I didn’t know sorceresses were real. I’d thought my nurse painfully unsophisticated and superstitious. I owe her a great apology. All this time, she’s been educating me.” She blurted it out and pressed numb fingers to her flaming cheeks.

  Her nurse’s warnings had struck her as old wives tales. What a disparaging term for stories full of truth and symbols that might save them. She wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she did. It was strange. Since she met Gark, the sense of knowing things that teased at her mind grew stronger.

  He withdrew his large warm hands and cleared his throat, as though self-conscious that he’d been petting her as she petted the beast.

  She missed his touch. As hesitant as she felt about everything in her new world, she’d begun to trust him and trust herself. There was a great evil bearing down upon them. She didn’t have time to be hesitant and fearful of the wrong things. She had to trust her own sense of what was right and true, even though it all seemed unbelievable in the life she lived only a day ago.

  “You’re doing well, Teza. We’ll have more time to talk after we get through the pass. For now, we’ll dismount and feed Shellaq and ourselves.” He slipped down, making almost no sound.

  It was good they waited to dismount. The ground might have burned them if they walked across the path sooner. The rocks near them still glowed.

  Orcs set about unpacking provisions. They used molten boulders to heat the meal.

  “Thank you, Shellaq,” she whispered, no longer worrying that the creature that had saved her life might take a bite out of her.

  She stepped closer to the hot rocks. The heat had bee
n severe enough to dry the melted snow near them. Her boots and feet warmed deliciously. She held out her hands to the glowing rocks and crouched down, drinking in the heat throughout her body.

  Gark smiled at her.

  He looked so different when he smiled. She was growing to like the tusks. An orc mage. What other secrets did he hold?

  Her mouth watered from the smell of the stew. She didn’t recognize the food, and she was too hungry to care much about its origins. She ate like a stranded wayfarer.

  She caught admiring glances from Gark, as though he approved her ravenous way of eating. All she could think about was that they were alive. That, and the questions the hunting dragon sparked.

  Fang and Neesa wanted to kill us. Her life was changed.

  “I don’t understand, Gark. If the sorceress and her dragon wanted to kill us, why aren’t we dead?”

  “That’s an excellent question.” He nodded, flashing his green eyes at her. “For generations, we’ve created and amplified objects of power. We secreted many of them deep in the mountains. We’ve hidden them in the forest that borders our city. We embedded them in the walls that fortify our city. We have altars of protection in our homes and we wear talismans of protection on our persons. We all, mage and non-mage alike, join our energies each day to fend off Neesa and Fang, and her goblins and all her minions.”

  “You’re resourceful, and cooperative.” She spread her hands, uncomfortable with his stare.”You don’t seem like the stories I’ve heard of brutal, warring ogres out to...” she skipped the part about ganging up on women, “Break our bones and boil us in stew pots. I’m sorry. I’m overwhelmed. All of this amazes me. It’s remarkable that you’re able to hold off a sorceress who has many others under her thrall.”

  He sighed and pushed back his hair with his big, splayed fingers. “It wears on us. We grow old faster than before her reign. I will lose a decade of my lifespan in this battle.” He sounded abruptly like an old man. The lines and shadows around his strange eyes registered.