Page 8 of The Orc's Rage

All eyes were on Cedar as Lord Kargorr led her out into the wide circle at the center of the camp, where a big bonfire was already lit, spitting sparks and smoke. The underbellies of the clouds were painted purple and orange, and Cedar pulled the fur around her shoulders closer as the orcs watched her pass. All hope for going unnoticed was gone.

Most of the orcs were grimacing, and Cedar wondered if Kargorr had made a mistake by bringing her here with him rather than simply killing her. Orcs hated humans. Of course Cedar would be seen as an invader here, as an enemy. She had been dragged into a den full of wolves.

Tables were assembled around the fire: big, dark wooden ones with trunks for legs, which made sense when she saw a few orcs already sitting down. She would look like a child next to any of them. While a low drumming began, Kargorr led her to the largest table at the far end, where there was only one tall, wide chair waiting behind it.

“Where am I to sit?” Cedar asked, eyebrow quirked at the single chair.

But Kargorr only laughed at her question as he sat down. Grabbing her firmly by the hips, he hefted her up into his lap. She scrambled to get away, but he held her fast and leaned over her shoulder.

“Have you already forgotten what we discussed?” he growled quietly. “You will do as I say, and do it with a smile on your face, or you will force my hand.”

Cedar straightened. He had mentioned lashing, and she didn’t care for the sound of that. She tried to make herself comfortable, her rear end positioned right on the big orc’s groin. Underneath there she could feel him, the thick animal that lay between his legs. She knew what it looked like on a human—she couldn’t fathom it on an orc. When she squirmed again, trying not to touch it, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm to still her.

“You will not like what happens if you do that,” he said, and there was an edge to his tone she hadn’t heard before. “Now cease. It’s beginning.”

Cedar’s gaze was drawn up as the other orcs made their way to the tables, filling them up one by one. The orcs of Lord Kargorr’sparogcame in all shapes and sizes, some darker green and some lighter green, like leaves on different trees. They all had the same jutting jaws and great big tusks, though those that looked female had longer and more slender ones. Cedar wondered why Kargorr had stolen her when there were plenty of his own kind for him to choose from.

The drumming slowed. Kargorr hit his fist on the table, shaking it and the big wooden mug that sat on it. Silence fell over the assembled orcs.

He began to speak in Orcish, in a booming voice that carried all the way through the camp. Occasionally the other orcs cheered, and Cedar could only assume he was recounting the battle, how he had slain her neighbor and stolen everything the village had.

Then Kargorr slid his hands underneath her, lifting her up as if she were no more than a goblet of wine. The world swayed as he held her over his head, but Cedar tried not to struggle in case she were dropped. A few of the orcs thumped their tables, and others muttered in disapproval. But Kargorr roared something, threatening and powerful, and let his voice linger in the air. He was asserting himself, leaving no room for dissent from his people.

They did not murmur further.

Cedar was glad to have the ground underneath her once more as he brought her back down to his lap. Another mug was brought to the table, smaller this time, and a male orc bent at the knees before pouring a thick, brown liquid into it. He was smaller than the others, slender, and his face was more finely featured. The drink was some kind of beer, Cedar supposed, or perhaps wine. Kargorr pulled it toward her.

“Drink,” he said. She only considered resisting for a moment when she remembered about lashing, and how he had forced her to eat on their journey, and decided that if she wanted to save her hide, she’d do what he asked.

Cedar couldn’t escape if she was whipped. No, the more compliant she behaved, the more likely the orc was to give her an opening.

So she took the mug and tossed back the beverage inside it. It was just as syrupy as it looked, and tasted of pine and fruit, and it burned as it poured down her throat. She coughed, and a few orcs among theparogchuckled to themselves. But Kargorr nodded with the barest amount of pleasure.

It wasn’t until the food came out that Cedar realized what an empty pit her stomach was. There was fresh beef, probably from one of the cows they had butchered before leaving the village and then tossed into a cart. Roots had been roasted and were served alongside bread, and Cedar ate it without having to be asked. The more nutrition she had, she told herself, the more prepared she would be for her escape.

As theparogdrank more, they grew restless and rowdy. Orcs got up to dance around the fire, and after a mug full of the heady brown liquid, Cedar became entranced with watching them. Their bodies, as big and bulky as they were, swayed and weaved together in front of the bonfire in a sensual dance. Among those swirling around the flames, some were alone and some paired off. As time wore on and more of the alcohol was consumed, the orcs began shedding clothes or simply unlacing their breeches before touching one another. A male orc picked up a female and even slid his cock inside her as they danced.

Cedar’s thoughts were milky and warm as she watched them, enthralled with the sight of him moving in and out of her in time with the drums. She’d once fucked a village boy, and another time, a butcher in exchange for a cut of beef to help feed her family. Both times she had felt so dry, so uncomfortable—not like this orc who was slick and wet, and the orc woman who cried out in pleasure with every thrust.

“Do you like it?” Lord Kargorr asked, his voice much closer than she expected. “Watching them?”

Yes, she thought immediately. But she couldn’t possibly be enjoying this, even as her eyes zeroed in on the place the two dancers were connected, as the male orc lifted his partner into the air so her legs wrapped around his waist, and he continued to fuck her as they moved around the fire. He was huge down there, she thought. Bigger than any human cock she’d ever seen, with an odd pair of bulges at the base.

“No,” Cedar said, turning away and pushing down the bubbling, giddy feeling in her abdomen. “It’s barbaric.”

Kargorr repeated the word. “Barbaric?” He considered it. “Ah, like an animal.” Then he chuckled, and his head was so close to hers that his tusk brushed her hair. “I suppose we are like animals. We are closer to nature, to our animal instincts. We do not run and hide from them. And you envy that, don’t you?”

Of course she didn’t. Cedar couldn’t possibly admire how loose and free they were, how no one batted an eyelash at them performing such an intimate act in public. Yet her thighs twitched.

Lord Kargorr wrapped an arm around her waist. He pulled her in toward him, so her back was flush with his chest, and breathed in some of her hair the way he had done when she first saw him.

“You don’t need to admit it now,” Kargorr said, his unfamiliar accent drawing his words out and crumbling them up like pebbles. “But I can still feel you, little deer, moving with the beat.”

She turned her eyes away from the bonfire and scowled into her mug.

“I think it’s time,” Lord Kargorr said at length. Placing her down on the ground next to him, he stood up and shouted something out at the crowd. He reached around her, seizing her breast in his hand, and dragged his fingers down the length of her body. Answering hoots rose into the air. Cedar twisted away at his probing hand, but he held her fast.

“What did I tell you?” he growled in her ear, and she stopped moving.

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