Entire SMUT CATALOG: Volume 2

by Kimberly Gray

  ***************

  Two winters had come and gone. Eireen, and the other maidens, held prisoner in the orc encampment, had each given their orc master's five, healthy children. They came to term in only three months. The powerful orc seed had shortened their normal pregnancy to a third of the normal time. They were now barren, never again able to conceive a child, orc or man. They were no longer “revered mothers”. They were now only play things for the orc males to abuse. Eireen swore to herself, no more.

  During the three days of the full moon, the orcs would take Eireen and the other maidens into the circle. There, the drunken male orcs would use them as playthings, passing them from one to another, brutalizing them as the drunken females swore and clawed at their naked bodies. Tomorrow would be the first day of the full moon.

  In her hut, Eireen tried to steel herself against what was to come. Her hut had become a prison. The orcs had placed walls of wood and stone around it, barring any escape. She still received food, water and wood for her fire, but little else. The orcs were more cruel than Eireen could have ever imagined.

  Over the intervening months, Eireen's body had grown accustomed to the orcs' size. She no longer felt the pain she once did, as the orcs' phallus entered her every orifice. Much to her shame, she had been brought to orgasm many times, but the humiliation remained, long after the night ended.

  She had thought of escape many times, but knew she would never do so from behind the walls that surrounded her hut. Her only chance would be when she was in the open grass of the orc camp. This happened only during the three days of the full moon. Tonight, she would either escape or die. She could no longer suffer her existence here, in the orc tribe.

  As Eireen saw the sun begin to set behind the great mountain, a diminutive orc female opened the gate to her hut, and set down a small flagon and cup, quickly locking the gate as she retreated.

  “Orc wine,” thought Eireen.

  During these times, she welcomed the fog that the bitter liquid brought her, but, today, she would take only a single cup. This night, she would free herself from these creatures, or die doing so.

  **********

  As the dark descended on the village, a great bonfire threw up light from where it burned, in the center of the circle. Soon, Eireen heard the howls and cries from the drunken orcs, as they fought to assert their dominance. She removed her clothes, the summer night's breeze gently caressing her body. She poured her last cup of wine and drank it down. Its effects would be long gone before her ordeal ended.

  She waited for her escort.

  **********

  The gate to her hut opened, an elder female orc loomed before her. With her rough, dry hand, she grasped a large portion of Eireen's hair and dragged her roughly toward the circle, cursing her with every step.

  After a short time she reached the orcs' stone theater, and was thrown into the circle. Her pale skin shone with the light from the fire. She saw her fellow maidens, all five in drunken stupors. The male orcs, naked except for the pendants of rank, which hung from their necks, surrounded the perimeter of the circle, cups in hand, drunk almost senseless. The first of the orcs, the chieftan himself, strode into the circle on unsteady legs. He chose first, always. Eireen saw him take up one of her companions and throw her to the ground. With blood curdling howls, the remainder on the orc males descended on them.

  One of the lower orc males, his large pendant, a piece of unadorned iron, fashioned to resemble a spear, took Eireen by her hair and forced her to her knees. Throwing his cup to the ground, he gave Eireen his full attention.

  Holding Eireen's head by its sides, he thrust his long, wide phallus past her lips, into her mouth and down her throat until none of it could be seen. Eireen controlled her instinct to gag as this coarse flesh was so roughly inserted into her mouth. Her hands shot out, pushing against the orc's hips, to no avail.

  Her head was being pulled and pushed hard and rapidly, the orc's member leaving her throat, then filling it again. She sucked the inhuman flesh to produce saliva. This would lessen the rubbing of the orc's cock flesh against that of her throat. Using all the skills she had mastered, she relaxed her throat against the orc cock.

  The massive club of the orc slipped smoothly in and out of her mouth and throat. Eireen's eyes were closed, concentrating. The orc no longer pulled on her head. He had now bent his knees slightly, and was fucking her face with zeal. His throbbing phallus pushed far down her throat, until her lips met his hairless mound, then pulled back until only the wide mushroom of his cock head remained inside. He repeated this over and over, each thrust pounding her lips ever harder. Eireen, bracing herself against the orc's powerful thighs, took each brutal thrust with dry eyes, awaiting the inevitable outcome. The orc's hips moved slower, but with more force, grinding himself against her rose lips and pale skinned face. Eireen readied herself for the voluminous discharge that would soon fill her mouth, throat and stomach.

  With a long, drawn out grunt, the orc discharged his seed into the pale girl's mouth. A huge back spray escaped from the seal of the girl's lips around his swollen, pulsing cock, covering his hairless mound, and flowing in rivers from the sides of the Eireen's frothing mouth. He pushed his wide shaft in even harder.

  In an instant Eireen's mouth and throat filled with the orc's hot, thick cum. It filled every crevice not already taken up by the meat of the orc's enormous member. The pressure from cups and cups of orc seed in her mouth, forced itself down her throat and out the sides of her lips. Eireen struggled to remain calm. The feeling of drowning filled her mind. With her throat muscles, she swallowed more and more on the slick, sweet fluid that filled her mouth and throat. With each swallow, the pressure lessened, as did the feeling of drowning.

  Eireen sucked in and swallowed massive amounts of the orc's hot, viscous cum, as the beast continued to grunt. He had now begun to rapidly move his massive, blue flesh club in and out of Eireen's mouth and throat, but in only small increments. Eireen felt the orc's mound crashing into her lips and face so quickly, it almost seemed a blur. She continued to move more of the orc's creamy seed down her throat, into her stomach, until she could find no more. With a final howl, the orc withdrew his entirety from her mouth and threw her to the ground. Without respite, another orc descended on her.

  The orc easily flipped Eireen over onto her stomach. With one great hand he forced her head into the grass, on its side, while pulling her hips up until she was on her knees. The orc rammed his hard cock past her slick cunt lips, deep inside her, stopping only when his balloon head hit bone. Eireen bit her lip to stop from crying out. With one hand still pushing her head into the ground, his other gripped her hips tightly. He began to use his tremendous cock as a knife, stabbing deep into her moist cunt.

  She felt the orc's wide member sliding smoothly inside her, then withdrew, slowly, but forcefully. With each thrust, her cunt walls were spread wide and her depths filled. The orc was filling her small, wet chamber with his wide flesh club methodically. She felt his enormity fill her, then retreat, only to fill her again. With deliberate motions, the beast fucked her deeply.

  Eireen felt no pain, only the pressure of the enormous mass of orc flesh filling her cunt, spreading its walls wide. Lust and pleasure crept into Eireen. She soon found herself pushing her hips back to meet each of the orc's thrusts, and, with each thrust she grew more wet. Moans of pleasure now escaped her mouth at regular intervals.

  She bore down and came, hard.

  She could feel her cum, her honey dew flow across her ass cheeks and thighs, so warm and sticky. Her body quivered and shook at her release. The orc's huge cock now passed effortlessly, in and out of her warm, sopping cunt. Eireen began to long for each hard stab of the orc's massive member into her. With each violent push of the orc's long, wide shaft, she felt the moist spray of her honey dew leaving her body. She was moaning loudly now, and the orc, hearing this, had increased the speed at which he filled her warm, wet hole with his throbbing, swollen club.

/>   Eireen was overwhelmed with orgasms over and over again. Great waves of her honey dew filled her cunt, covering the orc's huge member, then flowing over her ass and thighs. In one final push of his cock flesh, the orc burst his seed inside her.

  Eireen felt the flood of cum from the orc's fleshy hose. It reached into every crevice of her small cunt and coating its walls. The enormous amount of hot, creamy orc seed felt good inside her, making her cum yet again. Grinding her hips back against the orc's mound, she felt the mixture of the orc's sticky milk, and her slick, silky cum burst from her, covering the orc's lower body, as well as hers. The orc's grunt continued as he pushed his green-skinned cock hard into Eireen's full and dripping cunt. He held firm, his balls between her ass cheeks, as the last of his hot, rich cum left him, pouring into her overflowing cavern.

  The orc then removed his deflating member from inside her, pulling volumes of cum and honey dew from her cunt to cover her thighs, then drip in great globs onto the grass below her.

  She dropped flat on her stomach, gasping for air. The cum and honey dew which covered her from ass to knees began to dry into a sticky film.

  Eireen felt herself being pulled up by her hair. It was her female orc escort. She saw how filthy she was, grass and dirt now held on her body, by the sticky film of cum. She knew she was being taken to her hut, where she would wash clean, only to be returned to the circle.

  Eireen had counted on this.

  The orc female opened the gate to Eireen's hut and pushed her roughly inside.

  “Clean yourself,” she commanded.

  Eireen withdrew to her bathing area. It was a corner of her hut, where a large slab of stone tilted to a small metal grate embedded into the hut's walls. The orc female stood over her as she bent to take up the cloth in the gray water of a large bowl.

  Eireen shot up, using all the power her legs could provide. A stake of wood in her hands. She had pulled it from the wall of her hut many days ago, and sharpened it to a long tip. She pushed it through the thin flesh under the orc's jaw with both hands, jamming it far into this beast's brain. The orc dropped like a stone. It was as if a great hand had reached down from the heavens and removed every bone in the orc's body. Eireen knew she must move quickly, if she were to escape.

  Donning her clothes, she pulled the heavy leather coat from the orc's body and placed it over her clothing. She took the knife from the orc's belt with one hand, while retrieving a package from under her blanket with the other. She had been taking portions of her meals and saving them for this very occasion. Placing it into the pocket of her worn shirt, she left her hut for the gates.

  **********

  The ceremony in the circle was still in full force as Eireen slipped into the woods behind her hut. She ran as hard and as fast as she was able, keeping a point of the mountain directly in front of her. Fear drove her legs to carry her miles from the orc's camp before slowing.

  Chest heaving, she searched her surroundings. She could no longer hear the cacophony from the orc fort. She looked for a trail, a path, anything that would help her put miles between her and the orcs.

  She found what seemed to be a game trail, but adorned with hoof tracks from horses. It puzzled her and brought just the smallest glimmer of hope. Orcs didn't ride. They carried anything they needed on their backs. Whoever had made these tracks were not orc.

  Eireen decided to follow the path, in hopes of finding men, soldiers, someone who would protect her and return her home.

  She began running again. This time, she paced herself. She wanted to run long and far without stopping. Had she known the orc female she had killed would not be found until late the next day, she may have slowed her pace.

  Eireen spent the next three days on the horse path, stopping only for sleep. Every night she would stop, just before the sun sank below the mountain, and found a place off the road where she could sleep. She never started a fire. She was simply too scared of the orcs finding her. She would lay, curled into a ball, and allowed exhaustion to take her.

  In the early afternoon of the fourth day, she stumbled onto a camp, but this was no orc encampment. A meadow opened, surrounded by trees. Rows of tall, narrow structures, made solely of wood, with thatched roofs, lined the eastern side of the camp. Eireen counted 28 in all. Boughs and grasses lined the floors of each, their walls held strange talismans. Pegs had been set into the walls, made to have things hang from them. Eireen had never seen, nor heard, of anything like this. It was then she heard the forest part. Turning, she saw what she had only heard of in tales. The horsemen. Centaurs.

  She turned to them. More and more seemed to appear silently from the trees. In her two hands she held the instrument of the female orc's death, a sharpened shaft of wood. The centaurs wore short, wide swords at their sides. Eireen suddenly realized how foolish she must appear. She was barely clothed, holding a sharpened stick against the steel and leather armor of these man beasts. She let the shaft of wood drop and, standing tall, awaited her fate.

  One of the centaurs, their sylvan leader, moved toward her. He moved elegantly on his four hooves, all the while removing cloth wraps from his pack.

  “You have nothing to fear here, my lady,” his voice was manly, with a genuine ring.

  Eireen said nothing.

  “I recognize the coat you wear,” the centaur continued. “It is orc in origin.”

  “It is,” Eireen was finally able to speak. “I killed its owner.”

  The centaurs laughed among themselves.

  “A true feat, my lady,” the centaur smiled disarmingly. “We would very much like to hear the tale, but you need clothing, food and rest.”

  He handed the garments to her. Eireen accepted with a trembling hand.

  “Can you hear the falling waters?” the centaur asked.

  “I can,” Eireen replied.

  “You will find a small waterfall and pool there. You may bathe and clothe yourself,” he told her with a smile. “We have taken a deer this day. We will start a venison stew.”

  Eireen's stomach growled at the words.

  “Go, bathe. You will not be bothered. These wraps should serve well as clothing,” the centaur informed her. “And when you return, you will tell us of your escape from those vicious beasts.”

  “How do I know you are not in league with them?” Eireen spoke to the centaur, her voice filled with fear.

  All the centaurs laughed loudly at hearing this. Their leader, the one in front of her, pointed to the tree tops above their stalls. Looking up, Eireen saw dozens of orc heads, suspended from branches. Some were clearly very old, the skin drawn taught and dry like old leather. Some seemed almost fresh, mouth open wide, teeth bared.

  “We are no friends of the green beasts,” the centaur told her firmly. “You have sanctuary here, my lady.”

  Eireen could no longer hold her brave facade. She broke into tears, falling to the ground. In a graceful motion the centaur knelt and pulled her up to her feet. He held her in his strong arms, her body resting over the horse flesh below his waist.

  “I shall send one of my warriors with you, if you wish, my lady,” he spoke of the natural bath he had told her about.

  “No, thank you. I shall be fine.”

  For the first time since her capture, she felt as if she was regaining her bearing, her strength. She was Eireen, of the Norse, a leader of her village, a model to all.

  With clothes in hand, she walked the well trodden path to the falls.

  **********

  The water from the falls flowed over her. It's cold temperature revived and exhilarated Eireen. She felt cleaner than she had in years. The water was sweet to her taste, as she drank from it. She found lavender and sweet flower all around her. She used their leaves to dry and perfume her body. Using a stalk of long, sinewy grass, she tied her hair behind her. The wraps she had been given made for an attractive skirt and narrow top that ran over her shoulders, to wrap around her breasts.

  Feeling beautiful once again, she returned
to the meadow, where the centaurs had made camp.

  **********

  The leader of the centaurs was maned Orin, an old a revered name among the horse men.

  “You look much refreshed,” he called to Eireen as she entered the camp once more.

  “Thank you,” she blushed. “The water has stripped away years of misery at the hands of the orc.”

  She saw that a large fire was burning. The smell of venison, onions and potatoes rose from the huge black pot suspended above it.

  “Come, sit by the fire, my lady,” Orin beckoned her.

  She saw a small, wooden bench had been placed beside the centaur, where he rested on his haunches. Eireen took her place there. Another of the centaurs came to her, a cup and flagon in his hand.

  “My lady,” he asked, referring to the liquid in the flagon.

  “Please,” she accepted the cup and saw it fill with a pale red wine.

  “Wild berry wine,” the centaur told her. Eireen took a small, careful sip from the cup. The wine was sweet and tasty, unlike the bitter offerings of the orc. She drank down a full draught from the cup and soon felt the familiar warmth coursing through her veins.

  “Where are your women?” she asked Orin.

  “Our women remain at Stallionshold,” he told her. “A phalanx of my soldiers stand guard there to ensure they are safe. Stallionshold is our ancestral home,” he continued. “My men and I venture across the mountains, into the woods here, where game is abundant.”

  “What of the orc?” Eireen asked. All the centaurs laughed at this.

  “The orc keep their distance,” Orin explained. “Lest they join their friends here.”

  He motioned to the orc heads, hanging from the trees. “The orcs are no match for us,” he told her, with pride. “Should it not be too painful, tell us of your time as their captive,” he asked Eireen.

  She drank down the remainder of her cup, which was quickly refilled. Only then, did she begin her chronicle.