Page 34 of Sacrificed to the Orc

He shakes like a leaf in front of the fire, his legs weak. He sat alone during the feast, and barely ate, getting his food at the fire only once every man, woman and child had taken their first course. The hard-eyed warriors, returned into the long line, watch him with dispassionate eyes.

Askan stands, staring him down, towering over the young orc. Nagrarl swallows, gulping, and steps forward hesitantly, and falls to his knees, pressing his face into the ground. He must have a warrior’s status in the tribe for his position as acolyte for the shamans, but he seems out of place compared to the scarred brutes who watch.

Askan says the same, single word in his deep tone, and Nagrarl rises, tears in his eyes, gratitude etched on his face. He quickly runs back to the line, where one of the warriors claps him on the back. Whatever sins each is guilty of in the past, they are washed anew in their oath of bondage to my King.

When all have given their allegiance, Askan gestures, and they disperse, disappearing into the shadows of their homes.

Rakar and Gorrim, ever-present pillars, give Askan a nod and then retreat. The fires wane, leaving just Askan and me in the diminishing light. He sits back down beside me, his smell still thick with the iron greys of his pure will.

I breathe out, a huge weight off my shoulders. Now, with just me and Askan, the weight of being a warlord’s Queen dissipates, and I reach up, touching his arm gently, stroking his power. I’m awed by him anew, the way the hard, formidable brutes swore their allegiance, submitting to him.

“It’s been a long day. I would show you my home,” he says, and his stern face breaks into a smile. “Our home, I should say.”

“I’d like that.”

We walk hand in hand into the orc village. Some homes are lit up, light streaming from the oval windows, but so many are cold and empty, without a sound.

“We will see these homes filled anew,” states Askan, gripping my hand tight in his. We turn down a stone pathway, towards one of the oval homes, like a giant soup bowl turned upside down.

His hand pushes the door open, unveiling an ethereal glow that fills the room. Luminescence radiates from the seamless walls, casting a tranquil warmth. I touch the cold, smooth stone, marveling at the craftsmanship of an age gone by.

The walls seem to have been made of pure will, as if someone from long ago was able to force the mountain to shape itself into this image.

“Each time I enter my home, I get a yearning for all that we lost.”

I notice the ladder leading upwards and the massive bed set to one side. Its curved frame aligns perfectly with the dome’s curvature, a big headboard worked to trace the lines, providing a cozy nook that I can only imagine nuzzling up against his embrace in.

There’s a door at the far end, where a half-circle room comes out from the far reach of his huge home. You could fit a dozen people comfortably in the first floor, a home designed for families, but the orc tribe is so sparse each individual warrior gets his own home. There’s a wooden table, cruder than the rest of the workmanship, with two chairs—one huge and imposing, the other obviously brought especially for me.

“I’m going to go freshen up,” I say, seeing a sink. I walk into the bathroom. To my shock, there are taps, like I had heard some of the rich people in the capital itself have, and I turn one.

Water shoots out, as if by magic. I splash my face, looking at myself in a mirror so flawless I can’t imagine how it was created.

There’s a new determination in my eyes that did not exist before.

In the side of the room, there is a cylinder structure, with a glass door. On the ceiling are a hundred little holes.

“Askan, what’s this?” I ask, and he comes into the bathroom, making it feel small. He slides open the glass door and turns a tap.

To my shock, water flows at his command, coming down in a fine stream like rain. “A shower. Don’t ask me how it works, no one’s been able to figure it out. But it’s good after long days hunting.”

“A personal rain, indoors. And we thought you people savages.”

He growls, low and deep, showing his fangs. “We are,” he says, and darts forward, stripping me of my furs and throwing me into the shower. I laugh as the warm rains wash over my naked body. He takes a bar of soap and slowly massages it over my skin.

“Not fair,” I moan, as he slowly slides his hands over my breasts, grazing his fingers over my nipples as if by accident, but making them pebble up in desire.

He smiles, knowingly, and his scent thickens, the dark beastly lust of his scent washing over me as his hands move down to my waist, caressing my curves, so different from his hard, lean body as he towers over me. His fingers tease my inner thighs, and I shiver, my back against the smooth stone wall, pressed in by the towering orc as his cock throbs to life.

He lifts me, pressing me against the wall, and I wrap my arms around him as he teases my slit with his rock-hard cockhead, his thick, orcish manhood spitting his seed over my eager, tingling pussy. I moan out, looking up at his brutal form, so huge and powerful, designed to protect me and ruin me with each mating.

He slides me down against his cock, and I throw back my head, moaning as he claims me once more. His beastly stink intensifies, growling as he loses himself to the mating rage, and forces his huge, throbbing dick deep inside me in a thrust that stretches me to the limit. I moan in pure ecstasy, overwhelmed by his beastliness, surrendering to his passion.

He slams me against the wall, his strong arms caging my body in, and I gasp as he takes me. His thrusts are hard and rough, pushing me to my limits, and I cry out in pleasure with each one. His fingers dig into my skin as I cling to him, and the steam of the shower obscures our vision as we move together in a chaotic yet perfect rhythm.

The intensity builds until it reaches its peak, and our cries of rapture fill the shower, merging with the sound of rushing water. He claims my mouth in a possessive kiss, and I can feel our souls intertwining through his passionate embrace. Our climax comes together in one powerful wave, and afterwards I rest against his chest, feeling safe knowing that no matter what happens he is mine. He holds me close, and I feel his love radiating from his heart.

He turns off the shower, grabs a towel, and walks with me, his cock still inside me, plugging me full of his seed. He throws the towel on the huge bed and collapses against the blankets with me, running his hand through my hair. I inhale, tasting the beautiful, pure gold of love and hope.

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