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As I walked barefoot through the scorched lands, naked save a dirty, old, woolen blanket, I seriously questioned my ability to survive on my own. As the hot sun cooked me, the wildlife continued to size me up, and my stomach continued to growl at me, I found myself most annoyed by the pain of stubbing my toe on random rocks in the tall grass. But I continued to walk in the grass, because the dirt was way too hot.

I was traveling alongside a river, or within sight of a river at least. That river had giant six legged lizards in it that unanimously looked hungry. My throat was dry, and the sweat on my back made me question wrapping myself in the blanket.

Jiao Ricebrew, 25 years old, expert healer, unmarried, was going to die if she didn't get something to eat. I was going to die. That's me. I am the one writing this. Do I sound crazy? I'm trying to enter the mindset I was experiencing.

I crossed over a hill, and noticed a wooden tower next to a bridge. It was a horde outpost. Hiking my blanket above my knees I bounded to the outpost with a spring in my step and the sudden ability to ignore the pain. I could ask them for help, maybe they could spare supplies. I wasn't going to die.

As soon as I was within earshot, I heard my name. My spine shot straight up and I tripped to the ground with a very painful thud.

"What she do?" an Orc's brutish voice asked.

The captain looked down at a piece of parchment and back at his subordinates, "Not for me to say, but if you see her, get her." She cleared her throat, "She is reportedly not dangerous, but we all know how that ended last time."

There were several manly laughs. One of the men sounded reluctant to join in, but he did.

The captain posted a portrait of me on a nearby board. I wasn't sure how they made one so quickly, of course I had no idea how long I was knocked out or fumbling around in the scrub. I couldn't see it well enough to determine if it looked like me, but...

"All them pandas look the same!" one Orc complained.

"That is why they dye their hair," a Tauren joked, "Otherwise it would be too hard to tell them apart."

I gripped the red streak in my hair and regretted falling for fashion. I stood and re-wrapped my blanket so that it looked like a cloak and hood. I considered hoping they wouldn't recognize me, but with it fresh on their minds, I had to move on.

I continued to stumble through the savanna, my mind overly focused on the hot, steamy bun I almost had for breakfast. It was really shaping up to be a horrible day. With the sun reaching three quarters, I assumed it would be a horrible night as well. I had just decided to turn back and throw myself at the mercy of the Horde when a creature leaped out of the tall grass at me.

The beast was strange, purple, had four exaggerated claws, a giant maw of gnarly teeth, and screeched murderously. I tried to assume a fighting stance, losing my blanket save but in one hand. The creature lunged, I jumped to the side and let the blanket trail behind me. The creature entangled itself in the blanket and was having trouble standing up.

I took a quick survey of my surroundings, and noticed a group of people in the distance I hadn't noticed before. I threw away caution and sprinted for them. The creature ripped its way out of the blanket and soon figured out my direction. It gave chase and should have caught me well before my destination, but a wolf sprung out of nowhere catching it by the neck. A pair of arrows entered the creature and it was down in moments.

My savior was a strange boar man with quills sprouting from his back. He didn't even glance at his kill before knocking another arrow and aimed it at me. Three other boar people approached with equal caution and distrust.

I tried to weigh up my situation. I had been trained to defend myself, but I had never actually been in a real fight before. I got lucky with the purple claw monster, but four spiny boar warriors seemed tough.

"Horde should stay out of our land," the one woman of the group spoke.

I saw the other two men were already clasping axes, and decided that fighting wasn't going to work. With the archer, running wasn't much better of an option. I took a moment to carefully construct my words and, "I'm not Horde," was the best I could do.

The quilboars (I don't know if that's racist, but that's what I'm calling them) laughed unanimously.

"We see your kind walk with green skins," the woman said, "We know what you are."

I swore, "The Horde rejected me! I'm not Horde."

They laughed again.

"Mayen we teach her lesson?" one of the thugs asked.

The matron shook her head, "Suffer her not."

My heart sunk as I realized that my chances of survival had reached an all time low. I watched as the males were considering how to do the job. I tried to figure a way out, but couldn't see one.

***

I threw myself at the matron's feet, "Please," I groveled without looking at her, "I mean no harm to you or anyone in this land."

I felt the matron's gaze upon me as she considered her options. She quickly incanted a spell, and before I could react, I felt a tightness around my wrists. I opened my eyes to see vines had sprung from the earth and were holding my arms down. I tried to get my legs under me to find some leverage, but I did little more than thrash about as more vines grabbed me by each ankle.

"You have convinced me," the matron snarled at me before turning to her archer, "Do as you wish."

The archer snorted in disapproval, drew a knife and began tending to his kill. The matron stared at him for a moment, then turned to her thugs. They seemed much more willing.

Seeing the greedy looks in their eyes, I struggled against my bonds, but found no relief. I watched as they sized me up, never stopping my efforts free myself. One of the quilboars poked my butt, like he didn't know how it would feel. He experimentally pressed his finger on me hard. Then he reared back and spanked me, I shrieked as the sharp pain caused me to tense up.

They both laughed. So he spanked me again, much harder this time. My body tensed, but he hit me just right. They both laughed again, and my face flushed. He hit my ass with what I hoped was all his strength, the shock turned my legs to jelly and I could no longer struggle against my bonds.

"Waves," one of them joked.

I blushed furiously, before he slapped me one more time. This time his hand hit my wetness with a sharp pop. They didn't laugh at first, examining his hand, then they chuckled in a nearly low growl that set my loins on fire. The quilboar behind probed me with a finger, teasing my folds with a light touch.

The quilboar in front dropped his trousers to reveal a strange windy member. I tried to protest, but he thrust forward as soon as I opened my mouth. I turned my head so he poked my cheek instead. His heavy scent filled my nose as he rested on my face a moment. He then grabbed my hair and pulled my head up to position. The quilboar behind slapped my ass so hard I moaned on instinct. His friend took this opportunity to thrust in.

The taste was awful, salty, slimy, and yet my loins reacted like it was ambrosia. He wasted no time pulling my braided hair to hold me in place while he bucked into my face. I gagged, but he was unfazed in his relentless assault on my throat. My world melted into the terrible, wonderful taste and painfully arousing treatment, so I forgot his friend.

Without warning I was skewered from behind as the quilboar rammed full strength into my soaked pussy. He pounded me with equal fury, pulling my little nubby tail for balance. He continued to slap my ass with full force, and squealed with delight as they wrecked me.

My world faded into bliss as I reached my orgasm. I had no method to express this, not that it would stop their furious thrusting or groans of pleasure.

The quilboar in front let go of my hair and started pounding my by holding my skull directly. His pace became erratic, and quickened to mind numbing rates. He pushed down my throat one last time and unloaded his slimy cum. His friend continued to pound me as my jaw fell open. I tried returning to protest, by my mouth was too busy egging him on to fuck me harder.

As the spent pig fell back, I could see the matron had disrobed herself. She was enjoying the show, toying with her clit as I was taken by her subordinates. Though my jaw felt like it was falling off, I still licked my lips as I watched her play with herself.

The quilboar behind seemed to respond to my added arousal by leaning in and cupping my breasts. I moaned for him, begged him to breed me, as he twisted my nipples and fucked me with added fervor. I felt him cum, but he was too into it to stop. He pulled my head back by the hair and pounded me ever harder.

He growled into my ear, "You ours now."

My pussy exploded with our mixed juices, and I fell to the ground in a puddle of sweat and cum.

My mind was clear of any and every thing, so I failed to notice the attackers before the men who had just had their way with me were already dead. The sound of combat caused me to spring up, or it would have if my legs weren't made of jelly. As it was, I watched as the archer was impaled by javelin, and the matron was beaten over the head with a leather club.

The attackers, tall haggard men with a four legged furry lower body and a mostly bald upper body realized I was alive as I stirred. I couldn't bring myself to fight, so I offered my surrender. They clubbed me with the leather weapon anyways.

After passing out, I had a confused dream about raising a pair of pig children who kept burning down houses and never ate their vegetable. At the time I had already known it was a dream, though I was trying to convince myself that the events up until that were as well. Little did I know, the situation I would wake up to would be much worse.