by Trevor Zex
Teza covered her mouth to stifle her panting breaths.
If she hadn’t had so much practice soldiering on through pain in her sparring with Yolo and Karn, the intense spike of injury would have dropped her to the dirt.
As her would-be assailant flailed in fury, his thick cock wilted and flapping against his meaty thigh, relief flooded through Teza.
The frustrated orc made so much noise kicking and cursing, he missed his chance to find her.
Orcs crashed through the trees, coming at her from all sides, the shadow figures of nightmares, only with snuffling growls and fetid odors.
One of them landed on her, his coarse hair scraping at her skin. He tore at her tunic.
A battle shout made him falter. Other hands grabbed at her, the claws and callouses rough on her skin. She yelled the most blood-curdling cry Yolo taught her. She kicked and elbowed. She would not let them pin her again.
A thunder of heavy foot falls and the large half-orc’s shadow fell over the shorter orcs falling on her.
The horrid creatures still bucked and handled her, intent on finishing what they started. A few of the horde faced off Gark, roaring their challenge at him. Claiming her as theirs.
Gark raised his staff. The lightning blasted the orcs like white fire.
A searing flash cut through their bellies in a blazing line. Entrails slopped out and steamed on the snow. The orcs blinked and grabbed at themselves, faces going from agony to slack disbelief. They clutched at their guts, shrieking. They fell, flailing and becoming still, dead. The dark eyes so recently full of lust stared at bare branches and the black sky, reflecting blackness like night pools.
The smoke carried the odor of cooked flesh.
Teza wavered on her feet. She stared at the fallen enemies, at their seared, eviscerated, hairy bellies and vulnerable cocks.
If she had obeyed Gark none of it would have happened.
“I’m sorry.”
“You must not defeat my attempts to keep you safe.” His voice rasped. He looked past her.
“I didn’t understand, I’m sorry.” She felt younger beneath his mature regard.
Overcome with embarrassment, she shrugged. Her shredded garment fell to the ground. She stood naked before her rescuer.
She didn’t cover herself. Her pink nipples crinkled in the cold. Her high breasts, smooth belly, and private curls were all exposed to him. Goosebumps formed on her lean, strong legs and arms. A rising wind made her shake and blew back her hair.
In his eyes, disappointment in her shifted to lust.
The thing she feared at the beginning now came as a relief. She might not know how to ride with him as his captive, or as his partner, but she knew how to satisfy him. She would get better at riding at his back and not causing problems. It troubled her to think about learning to be less trouble to an orc. But he had been good to her.
She swallowed, the realization of her near fate taking her. The orcs would have rutted on her all at once. By now, she’d be bleeding out, dying or dead under the night’s first shooting stars, her eyes not seeing them. Gark saved her life.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, a curt acknowledgment. He pulled her into his arms.
She flinched.
“Don’t fear. I’m going to keep you warm.” He glanced at her swollen ankle. “I’ll carry you.” With his powerful grace, he scooped up the shreds of her clothes, covered her, and picked her up in his arms.
She was a warrior, damn it, not a swooning lady of the court. A heady rush went through her at being protected and warmed in his powerful arms. The muscular body that killed her enemies pressed against her side. She breathed deeply, taking in his musk. Maybe he hadn’t been at great risk, but he’d fought for her. Had he killed the rogues to reclaim his possession, or because he valued, cared for her, beyond her position as his chattel?
She gritted her teeth and clung to him.
He increased his pace and the jostling gait was not near as smooth as Shellaq’s. She felt every bump in her bruised body. Against her will, she felt desire for him spearing through her, again. Nothing in her remained unwilling to be his.
At the palace, she’d copied intriguing passages from scrolls, committing them to memory. A sage had said: If you save someone’s life, that man or woman is yours. Not in the sense of ownership, but as a bond of responsibility. What bonds were there now between them? She closed her eyes tightly. She wouldn’t think of it. She didn’t want to think of how she’d failed her people, either.
Gark’s breath stirred her hair as he ran through the sleeping village of Kaersohn with her in his arms.
She hadn’t gotten far, and soon he’d have her back in camp. She heaved out a breath. The truth of her position settled over her with the weight of the enormous orc. He truly owned her. He could do anything to her.
Now that she’d lost his trust, what would he do to her? In an instinctual wish for comfort, she pressed her face and lips to the exposed flesh of his shoulder, his armor finding a bruise on her cheek. She sucked in her breath and his arms tightened around her.
She pulled back from him, shocked at herself. Icy wind hit her face and throat. Her teeth chattered.
“You’ll be warm soon.” His human words carried his guttural orcish accent, thickened with an emotion she couldn’t identify.
She steeled herself to make up to him for her betrayal, if he’d allow her.
“What will happen to me now?” Her voice shook.
“I’m taking you to my home. You will make no further attempts at escape.”
“Yes, Gark.”
Her relief warred with anxiety over where in his home he’d put her: a dungeon, the stables, or his bed.
Their late arrival at his house was a blur to Princess Teza. She clung to Shellaq’s neck as they entered a walled city at the end of a long, rocking journey. The one detail that reached her is the air grew warmer, no longer sending blasts of ice to chill her.
At a large house, Gark dismounted and pulled her off his pown into his arms.
He carried her into his home and told an unwelcoming orc woman to bathe her. She wanted to protest, but in her haze of fatigue, she realized she was a prisoner.
After the rough bath and toweling that made her aware of each scrape and bruise, the large, unsmiling woman gave her soup. After the wordless meal, the woman took her Gark. Teza found the tusks disconcerting all over again. She’d begun to get used to them on Gark. Seeing them on an unfriendly woman unsettled her.
With a sound more like a curse than an invitation, her guard pushed her through a doorway and shut the door.
Gark stood at a wash stand, bare to his waist. In the shadows, his skin didn’t look so green, and his deep musculature invited him to admire him as though he were a statue of masculine beauty. She cast her gaze around the room, pretending she wasn’t looking at him.
From the weapons and armor on the walls and the bed, Teza realized it was his room. The warrior in her wanted to examine the battle axes, the spiked mace, all of it. But she caught his stare, his eyes lingering on her wet hair hanging beside her breasts and the rough tunic clinging to her body to her bare legs. She stood still.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Nothing worse than surface hurts. They didn’t succeed....” She trailed off, not wanting to talk about it.
“Good. I’m glad I found you.”
“Thank you.” She rubbed her food on the rough floor mat. The bed appeared to be made of plant stuff and covered with woven blankets. It was neater, cleaner, and more inviting that she expected. From her nurse’s tales, she thought Orcs would live in caves gnawing bones. Bad girls’ bones. She felt too warm. Scrolls on a table near the bed caught her eye. Gark read, too. He was not the beast she’d been led to fear.
He turned away from her and continued drawing a sponge over his body, returning to the task she’d interrupted. It didn’t seem more dismissive, but kind.
“Those other orcs, they’re so different from yo
u.” She didn’t fight the admiration in her voice as she watched him bathe. She flinched at the deep scrape on his arm.
“Those orcs have remained closer to their origins than we have. They have their own kind of intelligence, though. Humans underestimate them and us to their peril.”
“What do you mean? I want to understand.”
“They do not attack our city. They have limited reasoning, yet they learned approaching the city means death.” Shadows crossed his narrowed eyes. “I don’t like to kill them.”
It struck Teza again, how horribly she failed him by attempting escape and being captured by the orc gang.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s time for you to stop being sorry. Take off your clothes .” He stroked her hair, his big calloused fingers catching in the silky strands.
“Excuse me?”
“You are the most beautiful one I have seen. The most beautiful woman of any kind.” His lips twitched. “You heard me. Get undressed.” He gestured, closing his talons as though ripping off her fresh tunic.
“Oh. Yes. Yes, Gark.” She bowed her head, attempting to appear servile, a thing so far from her nature it took a great effort to stand with her face down and her hands clasped behind her waist.
She arched so that her breasts pressed at the coarse fabric. She imagined herself as chattel on the auction block. That could happen if she didn’t please him. She sighed, unfit for playing this role. She was a warrior and a princess, not a mummer.
If she wasn’t to say she was sorry, she could at least show it. The dragon in the spiked collar flashed in her mind. Owned. The damned orc saved her life, making her grateful, but he owned her, making her seethe.
“You won’t like this at first, Teza. My punishment will release you from your guilt.”
“What do you mean?” Her toes curled against the floor and her fists tightened behind her back.
“I’m going to spank you now.”
“Spank me? As though I were small?” Wonder, outrage, and a spark of arousal fought within her.
“If you would prefer, I shall punish you by sending you out of my room. There’s a guest chamber next to the kitchen where you’ll be warm.” He examined his talons as though her choice meant nothing to him.
She wanted to ask him how he got claws that looked like a cross between a great cat’s and an eagle’s, but she didn’t dare.
She shook her head for her answer, panicked at the thought of not sharing his bed that night, shameless about her desire to do so. She would sooner endure his spanking than be sent away from his presence. In such a short time, he had captured her. In truth.
“Tell me.” His eyes looked into her.
“I will—accept the spanking, Gark. Do not send me away from you.”
He pulled her over his lap, yanked her tunic to her waist, and caressed her bottom.
“Oh!” She sighed in surprise. How good his hand felt right there.
He pulled back his hand and smacked it down on her ass cheek. “There you go, young cat.” He spanked her in a slow, warming rhythm as he spoke. “You are a princess, and I don’t expect you to be subservient, but you will learn to obey me.”
“Yes, Gark.”
“Here, as in your land, the king and queen rule side by side. I am a scion of the mating between your long-ago queen Runeheld and the orc general Tarn. He was her prisoner. Our bards tell that after watching him fight in the arena, she ordered him brought to her bed. No one minded that, but when she raised him from the dungeon to become her consort, it was a scandal.” He paused and caressed her burning ass.
“What happened?”
“Runeheld’s sister Corvin tried to poison her to seize the throne. Careful and wily, Runeheld proved not so easy to kill. She locked her sister and other dissenters in a tower. The tales say their bones lie in that tower still.”
“That’s as grim as some of my family’s history,” Teza blurted. Betrayal upon betrayal for generations, so much desire for the throne. Perhaps that was why her father sent her away. He wanted to rule forever.
“Despite widespread, though less-blatant, opposition, Queen Runeheld kept Tarn at her side.” He squeezed her cheek. “I like to believe she loved him, and that he made her sing, as I do you.” His smile warmed his voice. “I trace my lineage to their daughter Irlan, who became the next great warrior queen in your land. She fought off the ancestors of your would-be bridegroom, pushing them back to the land now known as Akkak. Their own country across the sea had expelled them.”
“Expelled them? You mean they were forced to leave their homes? Why?” Sorrow suffused her. She couldn’t help likening their fate to her own, adrift from her own place, forced to learn new ways.
“Your bridegroom’s lineage was sentenced to perpetual exile for their cruel practices. Their forms of torture and executions were extreme, even for that bloody era. Across the gap of time, it’s difficult to know the full story. Many tales tell that all orcs are cursed. We are green and ugly because we displeased the gods.” He sighed. “It may be that some of us are less cursed than others.” He ran a talon over her fiery cheeks and between them, making her grab his leg and yelp. “Enough. Enough history, my delicious student, and more spanking.”
He spanked her with soft smacks. His slaps became harder as her ass grew hotter than before. His blows turned to a frenzy as his cock nudged her from below.
She whined, she yelped, she howled. Her body writhed on his lamp, tormented by his hot erection.
His blows sent a drumming cadence through her ass and between her legs. His rhythm evoked music made for ritual sex. His stinging slaps made her rock and wriggle on his lap like a wildcat in heat.
His breathing and blows quickened.
Moaning, clinging to his hard legs, Teza reached the state of pain, so taken in burning, stinging spanks, no thoughts moved in her.
One idea grew clear. She didn’t know if she could stand any more blows. As carefully as a good cat, she nipped his leg.
He stopped.
The silence and absence of stinging slaps reached her as though from far away.
His huge hands pulled her into position above his over his cock. Her legs spread over his lap, and her head hung toward the floor.
Her fiery ass flinched from his coarse hair. The roar of blood filled her ears. She throbbed between her legs, slick for him.
He lifted her hips and speared her with one jarring thrust that forced her all the way onto his cock.
She yelled at the sudden, rending thrust. Lust livened her, her juices and body welcoming him.
The huge monster cock filled her, stretching her beyond belief, making her burn deep inside, pushing toward her heart.
The truth of the story he told her of his origins hit her. It explained the difference in how he looked compared to the shorter, scarier orcs who attacked her. It wasn’t just a tale. Orcs could make babies with humans. He could make her pregnant, use her to sire his heir—the prince or princess who would inherit the throne of the orc realm. Her mind grasped his vision’s prophesy: He said he knew I’d be his.
“Yes, Teza, my warrior queen,” he whispered and drove her down on his cock.
“Gark! Oh, you. You.” Curses filled her mind. She bit her lip, tasted blood.
His huge hands gripped her hips and pumped her like a toy.
She shrieked, and her hair tumbled around her face. Her breasts bounced.
His hand kept hold of her ass, and he grabbed one breast, his hips bucked up at her, pumping fast, driving hard and deep inside of her. He flicked at her nipple with his talons.
“You are mine. Meant for me, only me.” He gripped her hair and pulled. Her hot ass smacked against his thighs, keeping the burn of the spanking alive.
His cock felt impossibly big inside her, stretching her so wide she burned around him as hot as her ass.
He shoved hard up into her, striving, fucking, making her feel him.
He stretched her so much at her womb, she cried out.
/> He controlled her completely, using her on his cock, taking his pleasure, driving and thrusting in her.
“I feel you, Gark. So, so, deep, my orc, my lover.”
He released her hair, slid his hand down her body. Pushed his fingers between her folds with unerring aim and stroked her clit, making her lose all control. Making her shake wild on his his cock, making her hump on him.
She ground at his root, desperate for the release he could give her.
He showed no mercy. Fingering her right there, making her shudder, making her cry out.
Her need and tension rose higher, towering.
He banged upward far inside her, yanked her down, roaring.
She climaxed hard, clenching his cock, milking him into her, roaring her climax as he shot his orc seed into her womb.
“Oh, fuck. Oh, Gark.” She clasped his legs and collapsed.
“Yes, fuck, good fuck,” he rumbled. He raised her gently.
A master of fucking, he kept his cock in her as he moved her onto her side and came to rest behind her. As it softened, his cock served as a massive plug, keeping his seed trapped inside her.
She was certain he did it deliberately. Something about the tale of the warrior queen and the orc gladiator nagged her. She imagined this powerful orc siring his offspring on her. It felt true. In the mists ahead, time’s veils dropped. Gark stood at her side, and the yells of orclings rose around them. They become parents.
Expelling a long breath, she tuned into her sore insides burning and pulsing, his cock throbbing with her heartbeat. Even soft, it felt like it was trying to push into her throat from the inside.
“You monster,” she whispered. “You brute.” She grasped his hand and kissed his scarred knuckles. “You are magnificent.”
He embraced her with his massive arms. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips.
“As are you. My beauty, my treasure.”
“Sweet talker.”
She felt him smile against the nape of her neck.
“I have a special bride gift.”
“What is it?” Excitement surged in her. She held still, feeling his sperm inside of her.
