Page 55 of Bred
I shudder at the coarse tone I recognize as the human overseer and his confirmation of my fate.
“Hold your fucking tongue, human.”
I feel the barked command vibrate under my cheek, where it is pressed to Murl’s chest.
“She ran,” the overseer presses. “Need to make an example of her for the others. A good whipping always settles the bastards down. Let one git away with it, an’ no end of trouble on our hands.”
“No, please. I’m sorry.” I cling, confused that Murl hasn’t already set me down, expecting him to do so any moment, but also a little hopeful.
“You’re not fucking whipping the lass,” Murl rumbles, his lisp pronounced.
I shift, burying my nose against his throat, and clutch him even tighter, wrapping arms and legs around his great body.
“No exceptions,” the human overseer retorts.
“She does need to be punished,” another deep, rumbly voice says. My eyes are screwed tightly shut, but I crack them open and take a peek, first left then right, only now noticing the two more orcs beside us are the ones from the ship.
The silence stretches, and my nose twitches against Murl’s throat. I am all tears and snot, but even so, he smells clean and musky, and it tickles the back of my throat. I’m filthy and making a mess all over him, but his arms remain locked around me, and he does not set me away.
“You know the fucking rules,” the overseer says.
“Do not preach the rules to us, human,” the orc to Murl’s right says. “But, Murl, you know the rule, even if this bastard oversteps his place to remind us.”
Murl growls, a deep rumble I feel all through my body where we are pressed together. It should terrify me, but it does not.
“I will take her fucking punishment,” Murl finally says.
My breath stills, and the air seems to crackle with the tension. I press my nose deeper against Murl. I want to bury myself in him, draw myself into his larger body, and make myself one with him, for that is the only place I might be safe.
“And what after?” the orc to my left asks softly. “You only delay the inevitable. Better she be punished and get it over with so she can learn the ways of a slave.”
“He talks sense,” the overseer says. “And I do not have all fucking day.”
“Uff!”
I hear a meaty thud, followed by a dullthwumpas the rightmost orc delivers his own punishment to the overseer. “Do not question us again, human, or you’ll find yourself on the slave block beside her.”
My life is hanging in the balance. I’m at the mercy of orcs, who, although reputedly merciless, appear to have more than the overseer.
“Or you could claim her,” the orc to the left suggests.
I feel the tension ripple through Murl, and a spark engulfs me, sending a frisson of heat through my chilled skin.
On the other side of the corridor, I hear the scrape and scuffle as the overseer rises.
“Claim her and breed her,” the leftmost orc continues.
“True,” the right-hand one agrees. “No one disputes a claim if there is a brat in her belly and your scent over hers. It would be the only way.”
“There would still need to be a punishment,” the left one points out.
“P-please,” I stutter. “I would do anything. I would be obedient for you, would take my punishment, if you would claim me and b-breed me.” I know not the nonsense that pours from my lips, but it’s like seeing a glimmer of light in a very dark place, and instincts are clamoring.
Murl does not hold me with anger. His arms are both strong and gentle. I’ve seen him looking at me, just as I have been drawn to look at him. My tears have stopped, but inside, I am wretched save for this one avenue of hope.
Maybe this is the Goddess’ will, or perhaps she has darker plans.
“I will take her punishment,” Murl repeats. “Then I will breed her and claim her. If the old gods are willing, my seed will take and she will be mine.”
