Page 56 of Bred
CHAPTER TWO
PIPA
Whathappensnextgetslost under a hazy blur. I am put to my feet, then Murl hands me over to his two companion orcs. “Guard her well for me.”
I tremble as he sets me away, wanting to throw myself at him, this orc who has risen to the highest, noblest status at the fact that he would take this punishment for me. There is no opportunity, though, for I am marched along the stone corridors and out into a high, vaulted chamber. Murl is stripped of his leather tunic, chained to a post, and whipped by a great bearded orc. His pale green back is soon bruised and flayed under the great orc’s command.
I start with everycrackand sob as the terrible damage is administered.
I should be dead by now, had they punished me thus.
I tremble, half blinded by my tears of pity that my actions brought this upon him. He endures in silence, save for the occasional huff of breath as the whip tears through his flesh.
I cannot count the blows. They merge into a terrible symphony of misery, such that it comes as a shock when the great bearded orc calls a stop and Murl is released from the post. My breath is lodged in my throat as he turns, certain he must collapse, yet somehow, he holds himself, and his steps falter only a little as he stalks back for me.
“Release her,” he says, and his companions obey instantly.
If he feels pain from the injuries, it is only shown in the tightness of his jaw. His dark orc eyes burn with a fever as he snatches me up and tosses me over his shoulder.
I hang limp, trying not to touch his wounds and sobbing, for they are all I can see.
He marches out, boots ringing against the stone floor and echoing off the walls. We turn left and right, and a burning sconce is claimed in his fist before a door creaks once to open and again as it clatters against the jamb to close.
Dropped unceremoniously to the floor, I scramble to push the hair from my face and find Murl lodging the sconce in a slot upon the wall. The room is small, windowless, and dominated by a huge, orc-sized bed. A rough wooden table rests against the wall to the left of the door, bearing a pitcher and wooden cup.
When I turn back, I find Murl staring down at me, and his earlier compassion scoured away.
I’m on my knees. Towering above me is an orc, a monster, and he’s going to breed me.
“Please, may I tend to your wounds, master?”
“No.”
My chest heaves a little unsteadily as I take the male in. His expression may be cold and empty, but his eyes hold heat. His power over me and my fate are absolute.
“You wanted protection, lass. Well, a beast has been roused. There is no going back. Tonight, I’m going to claim you.”
I do not doubt his words, nor would I deny him, although I admit to being fiercely intimidated. If I want his protection, I must please him and give myself over to whatever he wishes to do.
He surprises me by holding out his hand, which is pale green and many times the size of mine. Small but lethal-looking black claws tip each finger. As I reach to place my small pale hand in his, the significance of my acceptance blooms.
I want this—to be his, to be under his protection. How long we might have for him to get me with child, I cannot know, but it feels urgent that he does, for I’m not his fully until he has.
His warm fingers close over mine, drawing me up from the floor.
“I wanted you from the first moment I saw you,” he says, voice a deep rumble, “I make no pretenses otherwise. I may be young, but I’m an orc who knows my mind, only I couldn’t have you. That is the rule, unless we have coin, which I don’t. Still, there are ways around such matters, or so I’ve discovered. I must breed you before this night is over. I must fill your cunt with my seed and plant it deep to ensure it catches.”
I swallow, feeling heat creep over my cheeks, down my throat, and over the swell of my breasts.
“It will be rough on you,” he continues. “While orcs and humans are compatible, there is no doubt it will be a struggle for your human cunt to take my cock.”
My gaze lowers to where his hide pants are stretched around his cock.
I blink a few times, only coming out of the daze when his hand cups my cheek.
“Do not fret, little pet. I will take care of you.” Picking me up, he steps forward and drops me onto the huge bed covered in thick pelts. “Let us divest you of these clothes.”
Meaty fists grip and tear my dress down the front. I gasp, trembling and confused, only to soften as a deep appreciative rumble comes from Murl’s chest.
