Page 2 of Orn and the Real Girl
He’d slide his cock from the wet heat of her mouth suddenly, her chest heaving with her breaths, and then he’d walk around her, eyeing her critically.You think it’s fun to provoke me, eh, lass?He’d murmur, pinching a nipple hard enough to make her squeak.You think this is all some high-flying adventure, is that it?He’d stop once he’d made it to her legs, her wetness glistening in the dim lighting, dribbling slowly down her crevice to drip onto the floor.You’ll learn, today. I’ll besureto teach you.He’d slap her ass hard, sending her rocking violently from the force, his handprint a stark red on her pale skin. He’d grab her by the hips to still her, angling her cunt so all could see her need.See how she aches for me, lads?He’d crow, stroking himself even as his mouth watered at the sight of her, at the heady scent of her.Such a little slut, this one.
Finally, all of the slow, aching teasing done, he’d drive himself into her welcoming heat with a loud, wet sound. Corella would scream, her back arching and her hips canting up to meet his. He’d stuff her full of his thick orc cock, her folds stretched tight around his girth, but he greedy cunt would want more,throbbing and pulling him in still deeper, begging with her whole body for more.
He’d set a brutal pace, one hand on her hip and the other wrapped around a creamy thigh, his fingers digging in deep enough to bruise, his claws pricking her skin and drawing drops of blood, but not once did Corella clap for him to stop. She whined, she begged, she howled, but she never once asked him to stop. He’d feel her cunt seize and throb around his tunneling length once, twice, sweat coating her body and her face dazed with pleasure.
Please, Garesh—she’d pant,I want your knot. Ineedyour knot.But he’d give her anything but that.
You’ll have to earn it if you want me to stuff this highborn cunt full of my seed,he’d growl, gently pinching her clit between the knuckles of two fingers, pushing her past the moments of being too sensitive into the height of yet another orgasm.
She’d whimper, her whole body red and gleaming and trembling, as he withdrew from her, coated in her slick from groin to just above his knees, and returned to the head of her. Then he’d take himself in hand and finally, at long last, he’d squeeze his knot tight and roar his release. He’d coat her face, her throat, her chest, her small heaving tits, with his seed, telling her all the while how he hoped she’d learned her lesson, that from here on out he’d show him the respect he was due as captain.
And just at the moment that Garesh found his release, I allowed my own. The force of my orgasm sent cum arcing through the air, muscles so taut I arched up off my mattress. It felt like it went on for hours, my body draining and draining until finally, the tremors faded and I stopped erupting.
Usually, there was at leastsomeafterglow, some few moments of satisfaction before things went sour, but this time I was still shuddering with aftershocks when the dark, hollowfeeling came to carve out my chest. It had been a good distraction, getting lost in the fantasy, but now all I could think about was how Corella came to adore Garesh, how he doted on her and took care of her and howcompleteit made him feel. And I ached, and ached, and ached, because I had begun to realize that I would never have that. I was alone in this world, would always be alone, and would never know the loving touch of a partner.
The puddles of cum all over my body were still warm when the heat behind my eyes spilled over, marking me as pathetic and weak. I laughed wryly.At least I’m all alone, no one around to witness my shame.
IT HAD BEENmany years since I’d been banished from my orc clan—well, since I’d banishedmyself—and a lot of the time I was too busy to notice the old wound twinging. I had a never-ending litany of tasks that consumed most of my time and energy, being so remote and alone. But there were days where I couldn’t find enough to keep myself occupied, to fill my time from when I woke to when I fell into my restless sleep, and most of those days were in the winter. Up in the Kelladies Mountains, where I’d made my lair, the winter stretched long, biting hard and testing my sanity as much as my strength.
Today was one of those days. A blizzard had barreled in this morning, and now it howled and hammered at my modest cabin, making the rough-hewn timbers shiver and shudder like they, too, felt the deep cold. I slipped another sweater onto my body, doing my best to banish the chill from my bones withoutthrowing another precious log into the fire; only the gods knew how long my modest supply would need to last. Vitrin, the winter god, was miserly with his mercy, and in many ways I was suspiciously lucky to have survived so long on my own, away from the care of my clan and the warm embrace of the Fenns. I snuggled deeper into my cozy layers of clumsily handmade clothing, saying a silent prayer to all the gods that my good fortune wouldn’t run out any time soon.
Across the room, Geyhtableated and shuffled closer to the hearth, irritated at the close quarters of my cabin and the meager heat of the low-burning fire. I gave her a wry smile, my lips stretching over my tusks. I strode over to her and crouched, stroking her warm, silky wool pelt and using my claws to scratch at her long neck like I knew she liked. She quieted, but I didn’t miss the irritated glare she threw my way, wet brown eyes uncannily aware beneath the thick blond fringe that flopped forward no matter how I groomed her.
“I know, you’re still mad that I ignored you earlier,” I murmured, continuing to pet her to soothe myself as much as her. The wind howled and groaned through the cracks in my home, making us both shiver. “And this storm is no fun, either. But unless you’ve been holding out on me, there’s no way to control the weather, aye?”
Geyhtablinked, her eyes studying my face, and tried to catch my sleeve with her blunt yellow teeth.
I laughed, yanking my arm away before she could damage the wool fabric—herwool, naturally, from her very first shear as a yearling. “Knock it off, naughty thing,” I chided, smiling even as I gently swatted her neck. “Not everything is food for you.”
She snorted, giving one more halfhearted attempt at nibbling my sleeve, then settled with a sigh back into her bedding.Geyhta was all the company I’d had since my banishment. I had tried mixing in with the human settlementin the valley when I had first arrived, but my people still had a reputation for brutality amongst the humans. It had made them wary and hostile towards me, so I’d moved on quickly and only returned to pick up what supplies I hadn’t figured out how to gather or make on my own. So long as I was quick and quiet, they tolerated my presence well enough to trade peacefully.
I swatted at the air like I could chase away such thoughts with just a gesture, then checked Geyhta’s feed and that her water was still clean.I combed through her long silky wool locks, gently working out any tangles I found. I took as much time as I could tending to her, but all too soon she was clean and settled down for a nap, leaving me alone with my thoughts yet again.
The longer I sat there, the more the aching loneliness from before pressed in hard and thick, choking me like a sickness. My chest grew tight and heavy, something darker than just loneliness slithering in, and I surged to my feet in a rush, knowing I had mere moments to cut this off at the pass or succumb for long days.
This was not the first time this had happened.
I darted to my desk, covered in sheets of parchment and used quills. The dozen cubbies set into the wall above my desk were stuffed with still more parchment, these rolled up into neat bundles.
My stories. It had started off as something desperate, one last thing I could try to avoid losing myself completely to my own despair, and I found myself returning to them again and again, hungry beyond measure for the comfort and distraction they afforded me.
It wasn’tallwank material.
I snagged one of my sweet stories from its alcove and unrolled the sheaf of parchment with fingers that trembled fromsomething deeper than cold. Despair crouched just out of sight, a great dark beast licking its chops in anticipation.
I all but dove into my bed and began to read, my eyes greedy and desperate on my own graceless scrawl, awakening the fantasy I’d meticulously carved into the pages.
Maara was frightened and alone,I read,though she kept her lips clamped shut and her back straight, unwilling to show it. Her mother had gone to great lengths to make this royal match for her, and she refused to shame her memory by acting like anything less than a lady. It was not her mother’s fault that the prince was so cruel. Her eyes met the deep-set ones of Sha’kith, the latest “present” from her fiancé, and she had to work hard to suppress a shiver. It was cruel, to make her use a servant so hideous and brutish. As if sensing her thoughts, Sha’kith’s frown deepened, pulling his thin lips tight enough against his huge tusks to blanch. Maaraswallowed, mouth dry, and went back to attempting to wrangle her russet curls into a passable style, rather than let Sha’kithdo it, as was his duty...
I curled up tighter in my bed, piling my blankets around me and diving into a story I’d told myself countless times: a romance where a beautiful, smart, and intelligent woman sees past the appearance of her orcishmanservant to the caring person beneath. I sighed and swooned at all the beats I’d crafted myself, delighting in their blooming love and their soul-quenching companionship.
If any other soul were to happen to see any of my stories I’d have no choice but to commit myself to death. That was if I managed to survive the shame and embarrassment instead of perishing outright.
When I finished my story the night was fully settled in, the storm still raging outside as if it waited for me, a predator who had scented its prey and refused to give it up when it was so close. I peeled myself out of my nest of blankets to check onGeyhta again, smiling at her slack-jawed sleeping face and gentle snoring. Then I banked the fire and snuffed out the lantern near my bed. I checked all the locks and the latches on the shutters and my singular door, ensuring my home was secure against dangers in the night.
When I was done I stood in the middle of the lone room, licking my lips as I considered what to do next. It was late, and Iwastired, but I knew from the jittery slant of my thoughts that sleep was still far off. So I sighed and returned Maara’s story to its cubby, then considered which one I would dive into next.
Sometimes I wondered if I’d made a mistake, refusing the Blooding and sequestering myself here. I could have done the ceremony, could have forced it and settled with an orcish woman and started a brood. But even with my loneliness pressing down around me like an ache, the idea of going through with that ceremony made me sick. And I knew, even if I had done it, that it would have only been a matter of time before I slipped and did something else that would have offended and horrified my peers. Banishment was always my fate, and at least this way it was my choice, my dignity remaining more or less intact.
