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The Adventures of Sheru Windsar

Part 4: Amongst the Orcs

By Gideon Kalve Jarvis

Her head throbbing, Tia opened her eyes, looking around her groggily. Those green eyes widened as she realized her predicament, and it was dire indeed. The warrior woman's naked back was pressed against a tall wooden post, her wrists bound behind it, restricting her movement. She was naked save for her high-laced sandals, her firm-muscled, beautiful body exposed to the leering eyes of those around her.

It only took a few moments of thought for Tia to clear her mind, thinking back to recent events and how she had ended up where she was, facing this most ignominious of fates. She, Ballia, and Harrin had caught up with the band of orcs they'd been tracking, the elfgirl coming back to the main group in a hurry. The orcs had more women with them, led on a coffle, likely stolen from some of the other outlying farms. If they hurried, Tia and her friends might be able to wipe out the group before they made it back to their main base. With the possibility of glory hot in her mind, clouding her judgment almost as much as the desire to save the poor women and girls from the terrible fate they would surely suffer if they were brought into the orcish camp, Tia worked fast on her strategy.

Even as short a time as she'd had to plan the attack, it had worked perfectly. She and Ballia had climbed trees and rained down arrows on the unsuspecting raiding party, so eager to reach their base that they were completely unprepared for an assault. Harrin stayed on the ground, firing her crossbow, her strong dwarven muscles letting her quickly pull back the next bolt. The orcs took heavy casualties in only a span of seconds, and lost several more as they scrambled in panic to rally against their attackers. Before they could organize, Tia had dropped from the branches and charged, Harrin just behind her, letting the fire in her heart take tangible form in a nimbus of flame around her blade as she plowed into the side of the scattered orcish company. Harrin's scalemail-clad body hammered into them an instant later, and with Ballia's arrows raining down to pick off the few that tried to flee, it was only a matter of less than a minute before the three companions had slain over a dozen orcish warriors and freed their captives.

It was at this moment that things went wrong. Ballia had just joined her human and dwarven friends on the ground when an orcish scouting party suddenly pushed through the underbrush, returning from a patrol. It seemed that Ballia and Tia had both badly underestimated the number of orcs in the region, and their levels of organization. What had seemed to be only a normal upswing in orcish numbers, as occasionally happened, with a corresponding increase in raids that would soon decline as soon as the orcs were whittled down enough by infighting as well as battles with other races, was in actuality something far greater.

Tia felt some lingering satisfaction that she had the presence of mind to order the freed women to run for safety, while she and her friends turned to face the scouts, even as their leader blew a horn, calling reinforcements from the main base. The three companions had been able to cut down the scouts, giving the freed prisoners all the time they needed to escape. But in the process, they were delayed too long, long enough for a much larger, more powerful band of orcs to come on them. Tia remembered a pair of worg-riding orcs racing past, dragging a net between them, only to scoop up Ballia into its tangles, dropping her twin blades while she struggled in vain to escape until they dismounted and properly bound their wriggling captive. Harrin fared better with her dwarven durability, but even she couldn't withstand being born down by wave after wave of green-skinned warriors. Tia held out the longest, fighting and hacking with her blade until she had piled up a small mound of corpses to one side, until her blade clashed against the curved scimitar of the massive, green-skinned orcish leader, standing almost head and shoulders taller than her, using her force of will to match his greater physical might. She would have kept fighting, too, if only one of the orcs, a pig-snouted half-breed, as much human as orc, clad in roughly-cured furs hadn't stepped to the fore as she faced off against the orcish chieftan, motioning to her with a strange spear made out of what appeared to be several long bones lashed together, with the talon of some massive beast as the stabbing point. Too late, Tia realized she was facing a shaman, before she felt her entire body seize up. A moment later, the chieftain stepped forward, and she felt a heavy weight crashing into her skull, and then knew no more.

No more, that is, until now. Her senses returning, Tia could hear the shouts of the orcs as they hooted and hollered in glee at the edge of a pit. Craning her head a bit, Tia could see what had gotten the orcs so excited, even as a few of them cast lusty glances back at her: Ballia, her smooth elven body stripped bare, her arms tied behind her back, was racing as fast as she could to stay one step ahead of the worgs that shared the pit with her. She must have been thrown into the den of the orc tribe's evil, intelligent wolf-breeds for the amusement of the orcs looking on.

In the pit, Ballia had to work to keep her balance as she jumped to one side, just barely avoiding the snapping jaws of one of the dark-furred brutes as it tried to grab her slim ankle, its wicked red eyes blazing into her own. She wished that she had taken more after the wood elf side of her ancestry at this moment, the part that made her mother ashamed of her, instead of the high elf blood that made up half her lineage. Then she could have had a more sleek, petite body, and not have to worry about the heavy bounce of her full, firm breasts forcing her to work all the harder to keep her balance without being able to rely on her arms to help her. If she went down, even for a moment, it was all over - those worgs would swarm over her like they were devouring a fawn.

As she struggled for survival, the green-haired elf's expression was set in concentration, trying to blot out the sound of the orcs up above calling out encouragement to their favorite worg, or jeers of derision at her. What was harder to ignore, however, were the soft growling words that the worgs passed to each other as they circled her, licking their chops, eyeing her over like meat while trying to back their elven prey up against a wall of the circular pit, or into one of the small corners of its uneven sides. Ballia didn't know the language of worgs, primitive as it was, but she knew whatever they were saying couldn't be anything good for her. At least the orcs decided to throw her to their animals, instead of raping her, letting her escape that torture. But that made sense, Ballia supposed. After all, elves and orcs couldn't produce offspring, and orcs saw little point in sex that didn't have a chance of increasing the number of able-bodied warriors available. It was this idle thought that led Ballia to spare a moment's pity for her friend, Tia, who would surely not be spared such a fate.

"Your friend," said a voice to Tia's side, making her turn her head to stare into the eyes of the shaman who had paralyzed her. "The dwarf. She was a virgin. She has been taken by Ralist for the ceremony."

"What?" Tia answered with a blink, immediately wishing that she had come back with something more scathingly witty.

"High chief Gorewolf shared the sluts with the tribe, then took the best of those for his harem," said the shaman, whose skin, Tia noted, was a dark olive tint, rather than the dark green of the rest of the orcs, his boarish face notwithstanding. "The virgins are taken by Ralist."

"Why share this with me?" said Tia, looking at the fur-clad shaman suspiciously. The shaman smirked at this.

"You have something to live for now," he explained. "Your friends are still alive. You cooperate, and they stay alive." The shaman gripped the edges of his furs, and parted them, revealing his nakedness beneath, his swollen orcish member already standing at partial erection at the presence of a female. "You will cooperate?"

Tia curled her lip in revulsion at first. The male before her was well-formed, certainly, his body leaner than the typical orc, more agile in build. His penis wasn't that ugly, at least as such things went, lacking the genital warts that she'd heard many orcs had, and even being circumcised, so there wouldn't be any smelly buildup (circumcision being a tribal tradition with these orcs, Tia supposed). But he was an orc, one of the lowest of the low!

As Tia hesitated up above, Ballia jerked her body with all her heightened elven agility out of the way as another of the worgs lunged at her, jaws snapping audibly at the space she had only just vacated. A fraction of a second slower... But she didn't have time to muse on such things, as she suddenly faced the largest worg she had ever seen, certainly the largest of the five in the pit with her. His red eyes were so intense, the massive brute's presence so commanding, he caught Ballia's attention, holding her frozen there for a long, fatal moment. It was a moment too long, as she felt a shaggy body moving behind her, just as the huge alpha worg lunged towards her! The green-haired elfgirl started to jump once more, but her legs tangled on the back of the worg that had slipped behind her, and she went tumbling onto her back on the soft dirt of the pit floor. A moment later, the massive alpha's paws landed firmly on her shoulders, pinning her to the ground. Determined not to show fear, she glared defiantly up at the dark-furred lupine, even as he grinned toothily down at her...and then looked up to the edge of the pit. Ballia's eyes followed those of the worg, coming to rest on a massive, bare-chested brute of an orc, his green skin glistening with oil, better showing off his impressive physique, and certainly having some sort of magical properties to it as well.

"She live or die?" asked the worg, to Ballia's shock, in halting, growling Common speech, glancing down at the elf pinned beneath his paws, licking his chops eagerly as his red eyes raked over her body with something more than mere hunger, making Ballia shiver.

Instead of answering right away, the loincloth-clad chieftain - and it was the same chieftain that Tia had battled before - turned to look at Tia and the shaman. The other orcs in that group also turned to look, and Tia couldn't help but flush at the feeling of so many eyes on her, all of them lusting after her denuded body. She looked at the chieftain, then at Ballia and the worg...and then back at the shaman, before she lowered her head.

"I'll cooperate," she said, her teeth gritting in humiliation.

*

"I'm hungry," said Luna, rubbing her stomach with an unhappy look on her face. To lend credence to her words, her stomach growled noisily, indicating its present empty state.

Sheru just nodded, feeling the same way, though she thankfully didn't need to eat as much, not being as muscular as Luna, and also having the more streamlined metabolism of her elven grandparent. They had been walking for several hours now, not exactly sure of their precise location, though Luna's sharp eyes had been able to find the little traces left by her older sister's party up until quite recently. Now, however, the trail, faint to begin with thanks to the efforts of Tia's elven companion, had vanished entirely.

"They must have been hiding from something," Luna said, frowning as she did her best to focus on the task at hand rather than her own stomach. "Ballia's really good at hiding when she wants to be. Nobody I've ever met could match her at hide-and-go-seek when we were littler. Of course, she was a few years older than-"

Luna's prattle trailed off suddenly as she came to a dead stop, Sheru almost running into her back before she also saw what had stunned the other girl into silence. Before them lay the remnants of a battlefield, green- and red- and blue-violet-skinned bodies lying all around, stripped naked by their comrades in true orcish fashion. For the orcs, survival was the only thing that really mattered, and with as fast as they tended to reproduce and to die, they seldom placed much personal attachment to individuals, while the stuff that those individuals carried held vastly greater significance: it meant that those who survived might survive through the next conflict as well.

"They're not here," said Luna, taking several steps forward, her eyes sweeping the bodies heaped up around them. She sighed in slow, deep relief. "Orcs would have left Harrin, at least, if they'd died." She smiled over her shoulder at Sheru. "Orcs hate the taste of dwarves. That's what Harrin always said, and Ballia always confirmed it, so it must be so."

"Arrows," said Sheru as she also stepped into the battlefield beneath the trees, pointing to some of the shafts embedded in the bodies of the fallen orcs. "Those are elven arrows. I've seen ones just like them in books. That must mean that your sister and her friends went this way."

"Those are Ballia's arrows, all right," said Luna, her face brightening. "We're on the right track!" Then she looked around, frowning once more as she concentrated. "Now, if I were on the trail of a pack of raiding orcs, where would I go?"

"After the orcs?" Sheru suggested helpfully, knowing the question was rhetorical but feeling a need to answer despite this knowledge, caught up in the spirit of deductive investigation.

"Yep," said Luna with a grin at her new friend, before her sharp brown eyes looked back to the ground. "It looks as though they went...that way." She pointed into the woods to the east, where Sheru could see, now that it was pointed out to her, that there was a rather clear trampletrail, where many orcish feet had passed before. But even as Luna started down that trail, Sheru paused for a long moment, surveying the scene of battle a little longer.

"Luna," she called out, bringing her friend to a halt. "There's something not right about this." She looked up to her friend, and then took off her big blue hat, wiping her forehead. "These are all different tribes of orcs. You can tell because of how many different skin colors there are. Orcs don't band together like this if they're just simple raiders, like you told me was the problem; they hate other groups of orcs almost as much as other races most of the time. They only merge tribes when they've got a strong leader with some charisma who can convince them to rally together as orcs united against the rest of the world. That usually means...."

"A warband?" Luna said, her eyes getting wider as Sheru's words triggered her own memories of what she'd heard about orcs. "But...but Tia and the others aren't going to be ready for a warband. They're supposed to just be hunting orcish raiders and freeing some slaves."

"That's another thing," Sheru continued. "About the slaves that the orcs took in their raids. I may not be able to read tracks like your friend Balia, or like you, but I've read a lot of things. What I've read indicates that orcs don't usually care whether they take male or female slaves - both work just fine for them, though female slaves, if they're of a compatible race, get put to work making more orcs, while male and incompatible female slaves get put to work at hard labor. So why only girls, mostly, with a few women?"

"They're probably just boosting their numbers even more," answered Luna, making a face of disgust as she started down the clearly-trampled trail once more, Sheru following behind her this time. "Either way, we should probably hurry. Tia probably had to lead the others off into the woods again, to avoid the orcs, so we're not gonna be able to follow them. But the orcs were nice enough to leave this trail, and since I know Tia never gives up until she's won, she'll be heading where these orcs were heading. So, all we have to do is get some dinner before it gets dark out, then sneak up on the orcish camp while it's still day, and they'll have sunblindness to deal with. Then we can join up with my sister and really hit them hard before they even know what's happening."

Sheru's expression, unseen by the forward-facing Luna as she hurried confidently forward - a confidence likely born from more braggadocio than actual certainty of her plan's infallibility - indicated the depth of her misgivings. She hadn't said it to Luna, but somehow, she didn't think that Tia, Ballia, and Harrin escaped the orcs. The mocha-skinned girl's confidence in her sister was utterly unflagging, however, and Sheru couldn't bring herself to give voice to those concerns, or any others right then. Another, more pressing concern was how they were walking along what was obviously a well-used orcpath. Of course it was still light out, and orcs hated daylight, but that didn't mean that they didn't have any patrols out, any more than human encampments in hostile territory didn't have night patrols. Last of all, the matter of the girls the orcs were taking troubled Sheru even more deeply than the other two troubles combined. The goblins that had captured Luna before had even outright said that the orcs were specifically looking for virgins. Orcs shouldn't care about such things. In fact, women that had given birth before should probably be more prized in their eyes, since it meant they were proven breeders. So why in the world would they be looking for...?

Sheru's musings were interrupted when Luna came to an abrupt halt once again, and once again Sheru only just barely stopped herself from running into the back of the other girl, her staff acting as a handy brake in times like this. Her green eyes looked in confusion first at Luna's face, which turned back, her expression exultant, to look at Sheru, and then at Luna's pointing finger. Then her eyes followed the direction of that finger, and her own face spread into a smile as well.

"Fresh fruit," Luna said with a happy laugh. "C'mon, I'll go pick some, and we can have a quick bite before we rush into death and danger."

Sheru put a hand on Luna's shoulder as she looked up at the dangling, heart-shaped pink fruit above them, restraining the other girl for a moment.

"I'll get it," she said with a friendly smile. "After all, I need to keep my magic in practice. And besides, I don't trust this road at all, and you've got better eyes and ears than me. You should stand guard while I get it." Luna started to open her mouth to protest, but Sheru then added with a grin: "That, and I've got the hat that's perfect for holding stuff."

Laughing, Luna stepped back, motioning with a slightly exaggerated flourish for Sheru to go ahead. Sharing the laugh, Sheru stepped to the base of the tree, shaking her head with a grin as she thought of how Luna seemed to be ruled by her stomach sometimes typical warrior! - before she whispered the words to one of her more potent spells, but also a spell that, while she'd prepared it that morning just in case, didn't seem like it would find much use in whatever conflict might come next. Instantly the spell took hold, and Sheru lifted into the air, resting her staff against the tree's base before she went up so as to have both hands free, the skirt of her blue robes billowing slightly around her ankles as she rose.

The tree itself was packed with the ripe, luscious fruit, and while Sheru might not know much about the ways of the wilderness, she remembered reading how you could tell that fruit was safe if forest animals had been eating it. The lower-hanging branches were stripped quite bare where they had obviously held a good quantity of fruit before, while Sheru could now see that the fruit in the upper branches had been picked at by birds and whatever other strange animals lived in the canopy of the outskirts of the Great Green. Thankfully, Sheru only had to lift herself until her feet stood at about to the height of a human man before she could pull off her hat and start plucking the sweet-smelling pink fruit and stuffing it inside.

Suddenly, Sheru gave a startled squeak of surprise. A huge, rough palm had grabbed her panty-clad butt! Dropping the hat in her shock, the blonde-haired wizardess looked down, blushing terribly as she felt that hand jerk her panties right down her legs before she even had time to close her knees to prevent it, leaving her feeling the cool breezes of the forest at early evening all the more keenly. Now looking down, Sheru's heart started to pound as she saw what it was that had assaulted her: orcs. A good half-dozen of the brutish, wicked creatures. Three of them stood beneath her, looking straight up her skirt, grinning their tusked grins in appreciation at what they saw, even as Sheru tried to work her skirts up between her legs, to block the view of these voyeurs. The tallest of these three, standing well over the height of a human man, likely more than a little ogre in his ancestry, was holding her panties to his short purple snout. Two more orcs were standing back, holding shortbows, typical of the orcish style, keeping them trained on the floating wizardess, ready to pull back the strings for firing in a heartbeat, giving Sheru pause before she formed the words of power in her mind that might have ended this threat immediately. Finally, the leader surprised Sheru, as she saw it wasn't a male orc at all - it was a green-skinned female! The female smirked up at Sheru, her snout much less pronounced than the more boarish faces of her compatriots, as were her tusks. She also held a dagger to Luna's throat, while her other hand held a wicked-looking curved longblade.

"I'm sorry, Sheru," said Luna, looking down in shame. "I didn't even hear them coming."

"The floating girl is a mage, Urla," said one of the bow-wielders in the crude orcish language to the green-skinned orcwoman, sneering at Sheru as she continued to stand in the air, looking around at the orcs, then at Luna, and then at her staff where it still rested against the side of the tree, as though taunting her with its nearness. "We should kill her now. It's bad luck to squirt sperm in a mage."

"I want her," answered Urla, the green-skinned leader giving her spiky mane of black, bristly hair a contemptuous toss. "She's pretty, and if she's not a virgin, I'm going to keep her to warm my bed."

"You're crazy, Urla," the squat bow-user answered, shaking his head. "Ralist insists on looking over all the girls first before..."

"Ralist isn't here," answered Urla impatiently, before she turned her attention fully back to Sheru, shifting into Common, her accent not nearly as thick as that of most orcs. "You understand us? I see it in your eyes."

"I...I understand," said Sheru, nodding, her green eyes wide with the rush of fearful adrenaline as she tried to think of a way out of this situation. At her slightest movement, she saw Urla's cruelly-barbed dagger press a little more against Luna's bared neck. She then gasped softly as she saw Urla's fingers of her free hand casually brush Luna's loincloth aside, and then do the same to her undercloth. The double-layered garment was designed for maximum mobility, letting Luna run and jump without hindrance, while still providing just enough modesty for the semi-civilized lands where Luna had grown up. However, it also snugged rather revealingly between the cheeks of her brown boyish bottom when she moved, something that Sheru had been too embarrassed to mention to her friend thus far. It also did next to nothing to prevent the brief press of Urla's green fingers between the red-cheeked girl's legs, before they were suddenly withdrawn, a look of disappointment on her snouted face.

"Come down, then," Urla said, motioning with her head towards the ground at the base of the tree. "We have your friend. She's a virgin, so my boys and me can't have her. She'd be wasted on Ralist anyway, so I don't care if she dies here and now."

"Don't listen to her, Sheru!" Luna called out, before getting a hard cuff from the side of Urla's free hand, dazing her.

Luna had seen the three orcs around the base of the tree, had seen how they were ready at a gesture from their leader to leap up and seize hold of Sheru's legs, to drag her down forcibly. But Sheru didn't see her imminent danger like Luna did. Sheru's entire focus right then was on Urla and the dagger to her friends exposed neck.

"Now," barked Urla commandingly, the very tip of her dagger drawing a tiny bead of blood from Luna's throat, making the mocha-skinned girl wince despite herself.

"I'm coming," said Sheru, looking down in defeat, before she did indeed begin to float back towards the ground.

The orcs closed into a tighter ring as Sheru's soft-booted feet touched the grass at the base of the tree. Then she gave a short, startled cry as Urla suddenly shoved Luna forward into the circle as well, the girls colliding with each other, their hands up to stop the impact from knocking either of them down. Sheru's eyes flicked to the base of the tree, just outside the ring, and her heart sank just as her body had when she saw her staff, so very close, and yet a thousand leagues away, just outside the tight-packed ring of orcs. Luna's weapons, her greatsword and the daggers in her belt and boot, had similarly been plucked away by the astonishingly efficient team of orcish scouts, and lay just outside of the mocha-skinned girl's reach. This was no typical band of stereotypically dim-witted orc raiders. This team under Urla were obviously trained elites, and veterans of more fights than Luna or Sheru had even thought were possible in their bloodiest nightmares. So the two girls stood, pressed back-to-back, watching the orcs surround them, frozen for a long moment as they waited to see what would happen next.

Then Urla gave an amused snort, and pointed at Sheru.

"Take off your clothes," she ordered. "All of them. Throw them outside the circle when they're off."

Sheru hesitated for a moment, until she saw Urla look at the nearby boworcs, one of whom kept an arrow nocked, though not drawn back fully to preserve the spring of his string and the strength of his arm, training it on Luna. Her eyes dropped then in submission and humiliation, and she started to unfasten the gold clasps at her neck, until Luna's hand caught her shoulder, stopping her.

"We don't listen to orders from orcs," sneered the proud young woman. "I'd rather die than give into your perverted wishes."

"But would you rather your friend die as well?" asked Urla, the other orc visibly readying his own arrow, pointed straight and true at Sheru's now-bared neck. "It'll go through her stomach, girlie. That means she'll die, all right, but she'll die slow. And you'll have to watch before we kill you too." The greenskinned woman spat into the earth at this. "Waste of good girlflesh, but we can do it that way if you want it."

Luna turned to look at Sheru, who was too ashamed to even meet her friend's eyes, and then let her hand drop from the other girl's shoulder.

"You win," said the bronze-skinned girl, her face scrunching up in anger and disgust as she reached to the side buckles of her breastplate. "For now."

*

Ye great gods, the smell, to say nothing of the taste.

It was delicious.

Tia's long, flame-red hair fell around her face as she bobbed her head, taking as much of the orcish shaman's fat prick into her mouth as she possibly could, almost gagging herself several times. She was untied now, and felt the massive orcish chieftan pouring a liberal helping of the strange clear, pinkish liquid over her upraised haunches as she shuddered on all-fours. The orcs had unbound Tia after they'd forced what felt like a good pint of the slightly fizzy stuff down her throat. Whatever the stuff was, it made Tia's head swim, made her mind start to cloud with a strange, unnatural lust. She needed a cock! And the more of the stuff that she drank, to say nothing of the liberal quantities the orcs around her spilled and then rubbed onto her bare skin, the worse that need became.

Of course, even after a few drinks, Tia had hesitated when she'd been pushed to her knees before the olive-skinned orcish shaman. This was an orc's cock! The thought at first made her almost retch. He smelled filthy, tasted filthy, as Tia discovered when her mouth was forced down onto that swollen length by the strong hand of the green-skinned Gorewolf, high chieftan of the orcs in that camp. It was disgusting. At least at first. But now, Tia was greedily pumping her head, taking as much of this wonderful-tasting cock into her mouth and down her throat as she could. The shaman wasn't as big as some of the other orcs around; certainly nowhere near as big as the brutish chieftan working more of that pinkish stuff into Tia's pussy with his rough fingers, making her get wetter and more desperate with every passing moment. But all that meant was that she was able to take the shaman right up to his balls, cramming his thick sausagelength down until her chin was squeezed against his sperm-bloated sac.

Ballia, meanwhile, writhed her lithe, naked body as she fought to escape the monster behind her. Her wrists were still tied tightly behind her back, but after Tia had submitted herself to the orcs, the orcs had hauled the elfgirl out of the worg pit. Unfortunately for Ballia, the worgs themselves had soon followed, more than able to leap the distance with their powerful legs. A short while later, and Ballia's bound wrists had been tied by the orcs to a long sideways-facing pole, which was then fixed and between two Y-shaped posts stuck into the ground not far from where Tia was being raped, then lashed firmly into place so that Ballia couldn't rise from an all-fours position. After this, however, the orcs had left her alone, not even touching her bared, exposed elfparts.

This was hardly any comfort, however, for within moments, the worgs closed in. The huge, hoary-shouldered alpha, the one who'd spoken before, stepped forward confidently, his thick erection dangling between his legs even as he turned slightly to the side, showing himself off to the helpless elfgirl.

"You ripe," he told her, giving Ballia's cheek a teasing lick even as she tried to move her face out of the way. He walked around her, keeping his hindparts near her face, his truly prodigious male parts a scant distance from her unwilling eyes. Ballia gave a short squeal as she felt the cold nose of the alpha worg brush lightly along the curve of her lower back, and then into the crease of her forcibly-presented, petite elven bottom. "Ready for making babies."

"You sick bas-ah!" Ballia started to speak, only to have her words cut off by an astonishingly skillful and well-placed stroke of the worg alpha's tongue. "Ngh, elves and worgs can't...."

"Wolves and elves can't," the worg corrected Ballia, looking up from his work with an expression so smug, it made Ballia want to slap him, if only she'd been able. "Worgs just don't much - you kill us too fast when we try. But we can." His grin was a terrible, tooth-filled thing which made Ballia's heart sink as she realized the worg was speaking the truth as he understood it - and likely the truth in actual fact! "And I will."

Opening her mouth to protest, to say something, anything, to wither the shaggy, red-eyed male's swollen lupine erection, Ballia was suddenly forced to take the smooth length of another worg's tongue into her mouth as the opportunistic beast stepped forward. The elfgirl almost bit down on that thick pink invader, before her mouth went limp, the rest of her body tensing up, as the alpha worg began to lick her, his tongue starting low, just under her elfsmooth pubis, which had never known the slightest touch of hair, and then rising, slowly, upward, over her hooded clitoris, dipping into the cleft of her tightly-clasped labia, over the valley of her perineum, and then against the tightly-clenched pink bud of her anus.

"All these," said the worg, pulling his head back for a moment to murmur, low and dark and intimate in his strangely compelling masculine growl of a voice, "are mine." Then his muzzle lowered a little more, and Ballia shivered as she felt his tongue bathe her exposed, flat, tightly-toned tummy.

"And this is mine also," he added with a sexy growl that made Ballia shiver again despite herself, giving a gasp, the tongue in her mouth flopping free as its owner licked his chops, savoring the taste of her mouth, as she felt the alpha wrap his surprisingly agile lips around the lower part of her navel, and then suckle on the tiny mouthful of flesh this provided him, the elf not having any extraneous fat beyond what was needed to keep her fully female.

"But these," the alpha finished, his cold nose nuzzling the undersides of each of the green-haired elfgirl's surprisingly large breasts, making her give a short, startled cry at the feeling, "belongs to my cubs."

Ballia hung there, then, breathless with tension and anticipation, trying to turn her head to watch as the alpha circled her once more, approaching her hindquarters as though she were a she-wolf in heat. At least she did, until her eyes suddenly focused on movement in front of her. Through the small crowd of orcs, the greenskinned elite of the orc chieftan's warband, clustered near the center of the encampment at the base of the foothills of the Granite Mountains, Ballia caught sight of a familiar, red-haired, tan-skinned figure. It was Tia!

Before Ballia's eyes, Tia was eagerly, sluttily sucking on the fat, blunt cock of the skull-helmeted orcish shaman - shamans among the lesser races were easy enough to spot, after all, for their love of fetishes of bone and other body parts that they wore even when porking a girl. At first Ballia was confused and dismayed at seeing her dearest friend giving in so completely to these monsters. But then Ballia's eyes shifted slightly towards Tia's upturned, well-muscled rump, and her eyes grew solemn as she saw the strong-muscled, well-oiled warchief, Gorewolf, stroking his almost impossibly long and terrifyingly thick erection against Tia's bottom with one hand, the other holding up a wineskin as he downed the last few drops. When he tossed the leather bag aside, Ballia saw a hint of the pink liquid that had been within, and saw more of it barely visible on Tia's glistening body.

"Lovefruit," whispered Ballia in horror, before wincing in sympathy as the orc warchief's immense green cock, which would surely have looked more in place on an ogre than an orc, visibly bent as it caught against Tia's exposed slit. As the warchief roughly seized Tia's hips with both hands and gave a mighty lunge forward, the muscles all over his body tensing with the effort of this forceful plunge, veins standing out clearly, Tia's head snapped back in a loud, wailing scream. But moments later her red tresses were seized by the shaman in one hand, who forced her mouth back onto his cock, whispering soft words of dark orc sorcery as he made passes over Tia's back with his free hand. Suddenly, as the magic took near-instant effect, the warchief's obscenely-sized member began to slide into Tia's body more smoothly, until, quite suddenly, his impressive green balls bounced against the backs of Tia's thighs. The two orcmales then started to thrust their hips in time, spitroasting Tia between them, her full breasts swinging back and forth with each powerful thrust of the savage males, her uplifted rump bouncing with each hard slap of the warchief's hips against her bottom.

"Good show," growled the alpha worg from behind, breaking into Ballia's thoughts. Those thoughts were permanently scattered as the alpha's hot breath steamed against Ballia's slim elven pussy, before his tongue lashed out, more forcefully this time, and with much greater rapidity. He was through with merely tasting her. This time, he intended to dominate her, to break her will with pleasure.

Tensing her body, trying desperately to wrench herself one way and then the other, Ballia gave a despairing cry as she felt more tongues joining the alpha's, bathing her dangling breasts, her legs, her arms, her back and neck...everywhere! For the first time in her life, Ballia cursed her elven heritage. Had she been any other race, she might have had a chance to simply blot out the sensations tingling over and through her body, or to have reacted as most other females of other races and felt only repulsion and shame at sch unwanted intimate touching. But as an elf, she had a heightened sensitivity, which in turn led to a heightened sensuality few other races could match. This meant that, when imprisoned and forced to endure the horrors that captors could inflict upon their captives, there were two things that young elves like herself were almost powerless to resist: pain and pleasure.

Lunging forward, the worg alpha was doing all in his power to subject Ballia to the second of these two terrors. His paws caught her hips, squeezing them firmly, using them as leverage to better squeeze his thick, smooth tongue into her quivering inner folds. Crying out again at this sudden penetration and the rush of erotic sensations it brought, Ballia's voice was suddenly muffled as one of the other dark-furred, shaggy beasts, likely the same one that had forced its tongue into her mouth before, leapt up and grabbed hold of her head, just behind her ears. With a thrust of his hips, more well-aimed than the clumsy jabbing of a mere animal, the wicked wolfbeast plugged Ballia's mouth with his swollen red cock, muffling her many cries of rising pleasure. Once more Ballia considered biting down, but as her large elven eyes rolled back in her head from the pleasure being forced upon her, she instead began to suckle on the worg's hard member, bobbing her head as much as was possible, all the better to discourage the brutish near-animal from humping her face, likely cutting off her breath. This made it easier, Ballia found; it gave her something to concentrate upon besides the pleasure already starting to wear down her resistances. Over the passing of many years, an elf could build up reserves of willpower that humans couldn't even begin to understand. But Ballia wasn't that many years older than Tia, sufficiently adult in body to make the decisions of any human recently aged into maturity, but nowhere near the centuries of age required for elven cultural maturity. Her body slick with the lashing tongues of those devilish wolfbeasts, her quim leaking heavily with her sweet elven pleasure juices even as the worg alpha slurped them up faster than she could produce them, Ballia knew she needed any advantage she could get to keep from losing her mind completely.

Squealing loudly as she felt another worg's tongue wriggling against her tight pink anus, Ballia desperately tried to lunge forward, this instinctive jerk away from the sudden additional stimulation doing little in her present circumstances except to force her to deep-throat the worg gripping her head, taking him all the way to his swollen knot. The worg alpha behind her adjusted the grip of his paws, effectively spreading her bottom apart for him and his crony to better abuse her delicate elven pink parts, that second tongue now pressing forward with steadily increasing pressure...before her tensed rear passage couldn't hold out any more no matter how she clenched down in defiance, and the smooth, slick oral organ penetrated her in the most humiliating fashion possible, making blood rush to Ballia's cheeks in shame, amplified all the more by how wrong it felt...and how good.

Tears flowing down her cheeks despite all her efforts to be brave, to not give in, Ballia tried to beg as she felt the alpha rising up, seizing hold of her hips now, walking forward on his hind legs with his red prick thrust forward like a knight's lance seeking its target. Her words were muffled into incomprehensibility by the massive worg penis stuffing her small mouth, and as she shook her head in desperation, feeling the very tip of that pointed lupine penis parting her swollen labia, this only seemed to make the worg raping her face get more excited, his hips starting to hunch, his heavy, hairy balls pressing against the elfgirl's chin. Ballia felt the powerful alpha's body tensing, his haunches bunching up in preparation to claim her as his bitch, and her muffled cries grew more desperate, more high-pitched as she thrashed with all her might against her bonds, trying in desperation to throw off the worg's perilous aim. But his grip on her was firm, and she sobbed again in despair at the wicked chuckle her struggles brought from the throat of the wicked beast. His long, smooth tongue slowly drew up her spine, from just above the crease of her bottom, all the way up between her shoulder blades, stopping at the line of her long green hair, making her whole body shiver at the sensual contact, her struggles pausing for a moment as her back arched involuntarily up into the touch of that tongue. That was all the worg alpha needed, as his hips suddenly thrust forward, plunging his full, swollen length into Ballia's sopping wet pussy. Ballia's wail of pleasure-forced violation warbled as her throat was repeatedly plugged by the worg claiming her mouth, his own pace of thrusting now quickly matching that of his alpha, jerking Ballia's helplessly bound body between them with a cruel, savage pace befitting their bestial nature.

Tia, meanwhile, lay on her back, her whole body flushed and feeling like it was on fire with the intensity of pleasure and desperate need that was tearing through her. The orcish chieftain and shaman, in true orc style, hadn't lasted long, pounding away at Tia's mouth and pussy for only a few minutes before her mouth had suddenly been flooded with strong-tasting orc cum, her womb similarly flooded to overflowing from behind. But unlike the shaman, who quickly bowed out, stepping away from her to dress himself once more in the trappings of his office, the orcish warchief only paused for a short while, panting hard with the intensity of the sensation that had rushed through him with that first orgasm, before he started thrusting again.

Now working his way up to his third orgasm, the second having come a bit slower than the first, and the third slower still, the massive, oiled orc held Tia's legs up against his chest, her hips tilted upward towards him as he thrust down into her at a diagonal, his heavy balls slapping loudly, lewdly, against her bottom, quickly turning it quite red. Tia watched the orc as he rutted her, watched his intent expression even as she found herself breathing hard, her chest heaving, breasts bouncing with each almost brutal thrust. Her hands reached up, gripping her nipples, squeezing them tightly, until she felt as though she were almost drawing blood from the hard red peaks with the force of her grip.

Suddenly Tia's view of the orc warchief was cut off as another orc, another of the warchief's elite warriors and part of the small crowd gathered around her, stepped over her, straddling Tia's chest before he crouched and lowered his own rampant shaft to her mouth. Taking the presented prick between her lips without hesitation, much as she might have done for one of the healthy farmboys back home, Tia reached up, gripping the hard green rump of the muscular male, and pulled him down until he was kneeling just above her belly. With a little more maneuvering, Tia fit the orc's penis between her full breasts, squeezing them tightly around his throbbing erection, even as she worked her tongue in skilled circles around the fat, dark green cockcap. This treatment brought a murmur of appreciation from the orcs gathered around, and it was obvious they had never seen a female do such a thing before. Not surprising, all told, considering the troubles orcish females had with oral sex thanks to their tusks, and the usually unwilling state of females of other races when they were bedded by the savage humanoids. The orc to whom Tia was giving this treatment seemed to appreciate it far more than his watching brethren, and he gave a deep-throated grunt as he started to move his hips, thrusting into the tight channel between the red-haired warrior woman's bounteous breasts.

Tia's ravishing by the orcs on all sides continued apace, the warchief himself finally wearing himself down after his fifth orgasm, the green-skinned brutes around her repositioning her time and again, two and three cocks at a time plunging into her well-stretched pudenda, the shaman's magic ensuring she could handle it all and more while still staying exquisitely tight for every male that claimed her. Her mouth, similarly, was crammed full of orcmeat time and again, and she found herself drinking what her pleasure-addled mind guessed had to be pints of potent orc jizz. But though the orcs delighted in the exotic novelty of claiming a female's skilled mouth, and their cultural demand to produce more orc babies drove them to keep Tia's sex stuffed at all times, her womb well-seeded with their sperm, none of them claimed her anally. Such a thing would have been a waste of good cum, as far as the orcs were concerned.

Not so the worgs.

With a loud wail of violation as the worg that had been raping her face stepped away, sending jets of his watery wolfcum all over her pretty face, Ballia's breasts swung forward with the rough final thrust of the worg alpha as he forced his swollen knot into her smooth, tight elven pussy. Wasting no time, the alpha lifted one leg and turned himself around, continuing to jerk his hips backwards as he stood rump-to-rump with the green-haired elfgirl, making sure to continue to use her thoroughly, forcing her inner walls to milk his cum-pumping length continuously with each jerk backwards, sending his cum gushing almost straight into her unprotected womb. Now somewhat out of the way, and seeing Ballia's mouth now freed as the one that had been raping her orally stepped away, the alpha barked out to the rest of his pack, giving them his permission to vent themselves on their new pleasure slut.

"N-no," whimpered Ballia as she risked a glance back at the lean, shaggy beta that leapt up, gripping her hips with his forepaws, his hips already hunching as he ground his raging erection into the tight little crease of her perfect elven bottom. "Not in my-mmm!"

Ballia's further desperate, doomed pleas were cut off as a fat-bellied brute of a worg hopped up to grab her head between his own broad paws, then crammed her mouth completely full with his immensely thick, heavily-leaking prick. A moment later Ballia's eyes opened wide as the lean wolf behind her popped her anal cherry with a surprisingly gentle, slow thrust of his slender lupine penis. Grateful that at least the worgs mounting her weren't reversed in their positions, Ballia prayed silently to the gods for mercy before her thoughts were shattered once more as the worg, including the backwards-facing worg alpha, began to thrust their hips roughly, humping her without mercy until the elfgirl's entire world faded into a maelstrom of dark, shaggy bodies and swollen bestial cocks.

*

Harrin awoke with a wince, her head throbbing painfully. Had she been a human, she would have had to fight through a cloud of grogginess as well, but as a healthy dwarven girl, she gave her gold-thread tresses a toss and blinked it away, enduring all hardships as one and the same. Her blue eyes narrowed as she noted that she was naked and kneeling, with her back to a towering orthostat that buried itself into the ceiling far above her. This, of course, led her to recognize that she was in a cave, all the lore of stonework passed down to her from ages past quickly bubbling to the surface of her thoughts. The orthostat, or standing stone, to which she was bound by her wrists and her ankles, was part of a circle of peristalith, or circle of stones built so as to enclose an area. Humans built such structures outside, usually as tombs, but this practice was simply a mimicry of the vastly more intricate and enduring undermountain tombs of the great dwarven kings, one of Harrin's own ancestors among them. The room was completely dark, but Harrin's dwarfsight easily penetrated the ink that would cover the senses of any human or elf, helping her to quickly make out more orthostats all around, as should have been expected, and to almost all of these liths, another young woman like herself was bound, naked and kneeling and awaiting whatever fate was concealed by the dark in a fashion that fit the individual prisoner's personality best. Letting her eyes stray to the center of the circle of close-packed stones, twenty-one in total, Harrin saw a large altar at the center and frowned as she realized where she was: this was a sacrificial site, a place for the most vile and ghastly of dark magic, magic so hideous and blasphemous to all things right that it couldn't be performed under even the cowardly light of the twinkling stars.

Seeing a brief flash of movement, Harrin's head turned, and she caught sight of a truly massive creature in the darkness, holding another, smaller, struggling figure over one shoulder. There were sobs and moans of fear all around her, but the smaller figure that the large humanoid was now binding to the last standing stone, in like fashion to the others, only made a few token resistances and sounds of exertion. This told Harrin that the last figure was female, and that she was likely drugged or similarly subdued.

The realization that the circle was suddenly complete flashing into Harrin's mind made the dwarfgirl shudder as she watched the towering brute rise to his full height, small horns on the top of his head lightly scraping the ceiling of the circle of stones. He must have used some magic to enter the place, Harrin realized, noting a few strange, softly-glowing runes appearing in a circle on the ceiling right above the monstrous being's high-placed head as the likely culprits allowing magical entry. In the soft glow of the transportation runes, the figure, formerly painted in monochrome by the limitations of dwarfsight, suddenly came into full contrast before Harrin's eyes.

He was a massive brute, that much was certain, perhaps the height of two human men standing one on the other's shoulders. His features were those of an ogre, but with a light of intelligence, even a cast of strange, savage nobility that ogres notably lacked. The high ogre, or ogre mage as many called them, and as Harrin now recognized the creature from the dwarven battle training she'd been given since she was strong enough to walk on her own, had skin of a pale blue-green that did little to conceal every vein of his body hidden just barely beneath the surface of his tight-stretched skin, the horns on the top of his head too short and blunt for anything more than decoration, but covered in a series of intricate carvings. Those carvings continued onto the ogre mage's flesh, his naked body covered in them, down to the last fingerspan. Without clothes, Harrin could see clearly, fighting off the blush that threatened to redden her face and leave her seeming weak at the time when strength was most needed, that even his genitalia were covered in these fleshcarvings, and found herself grateful that the visual effect of this total body art made him look almost clothed, making it easier for the conservatively-raised dwarfgirl to ignore the monster's nudity, which was far too close to that of dwarven anatomy for her liking.

Turning slightly, the dark aquamarine-skinned creature looked straight at Harrin.

"The only nonhuman among the sacrifices," he said in a voice that was surprisingly light in tone, a fine singing tenor, Harrin realized. "And the only one to have put up a decent fight. I admire your strength." He touched the stone altar at the center of the circle of liths, and a fine tracery of strangely obscene carvings began to come into view before Harrin's eyes. "And your bravery. I shall reward these traits with an explanation. Those such as yourself deserve to know the cause of their deaths."

Laying himself full upon the altar, the ogre mage's body carvings began to slowly light with inner fire, even as the runes that were steadily creeping outward from the altar towards the bound girls in the circle also started to glow softly with a sickly pale green fire. As he closed his eyes, concentrating on the magic being worked, the ogre mage continued to speak.

"It is the greatest ritual that I will ever perform," he explained, and Harrin forced herself to keep silent; after all, if she lived through this, she'd want all the information she could get to share with others. "One of many being prepared even now all across the face of Therafim. It will change this world. Your life, and the lives of your fellow sacrifices, will reshape everything."

Harrin watched the slow creep of the runes and carvings along the floor of the chamber with trepidation, thankful that, at their present rate of speed, they wouldn't reach the liths to which she and the other girls were bound for several hours. But would it be time enough for her to be rescued? Would it be enough for her to escape? The thought of escape sank home, and Harrin started to saw her wrists from side to side as much as she was able, pulling the sturdy rope that held her bound to the orthostat taut so as to better build up friction. It wasn't much of a chance, she knew with sinking clarity, for the standing stone was almost as smooth as if dwarves had fashioned it, and the rope was thick and well-made, but at least it was something. Far better than simply waiting to die in this place of evil.

The aquamarine ogreblood continued to speak as Harrin put half of her attention on him, and the other half on her efforts to free herself, while the intertwining runes crept along the floor of the cave with steady, slow progress. The light flowing into the runes, said Ralist (the ogre mage's name, as he quickly revealed), was part of his life's essence, which would soon tie him to each of the girls in the circle, Harrin included. The lives of the twenty-one girls in the circle, pure and untouched virgins every one, were needed to complete a spell with global-spanning effects. A great leader, perhaps the strongest person Ralist had ever known, the most fit for rulership, sought to achieve ultimate mastery of the world.

"If it means endangering my life for my leader's sake," said Ralist in warm, worshipful tones, "then I will do so gladly. I will draw your lives into myself, and through me, I shall open a great conduit that will channel the power I gain from your sacrifices to my leader. It will risk my life, surely, but the risk of such a venture is nothing compared to the gain." His eyes opened briefly, and Harrin stilled her sawing to stare into a gaze that shone with the light of religious fanaticism, a madness far worse than any other. "My part in this ritual is only one of many. And when it is complete," his expression was beatific, a bizarre sight indeed on such a demonic-seeming face, as he turned his gaze back towards the ceiling, "this world will be brought to perfection. There will be paradise on Therafim for the first time ever."

Harrin started sawing away almost before Ralist's eyes closed once more, at first with feverish energy, but soon with a slower, more steady dwarven pace, being sure to make each motion count, not letting herself panic. A human's arms would surely have tired after a few scant minutes. But Harrin was a dwarf, born and raised, and though she might have traveled far from her home beneath the high mountains, she would be ashamed to face her ancestors to die in such a low place as this. So she sawed on, letting the sound of her sawing become her mantra of meditation, devoting herself utterly to the task of thwarting this evil one's plans by the simple act of escaping.

After all, what worth would there be in living in what a monster thought of as paradise? Better to send herself to her people's heaven in glorious combat than to submit to such an abomination.

*

"Mmm," said Urla, her eyes closed as she savored the taste of slick juices she'd just suckled off her finger. "That's...I don't have words for it." Her eyes opened, and the spiky-maned orc woman grinned at Sheru. "I've never tasted anything so good."

Sheru stood with her thighs pressed as tightly together as she could manage, her cheeks flushed heavily, the hands bound behind her back at the wrists trying in vain to at least cover her backside from the leering orcs standing all around her in a tight circle. Luna was on her knees at the edge of the circle, as naked as poor Sheru, her shoulder gripped by the suspicious archer orc that had warned against wizards before, keeping the tan-skinned girl's round, boyish bottom pressed firmly on her heels, giving her no chance to rise or do anything to help her friend in the middle of the circle of orcs. Nothing, that is, except to watch.

Urla had only moments before stroked her hand down Sheru's belly and perfectly smooth pubis, before she slipped a thick and quite unfeminine finger into the folds of the teenaged wizard girl's achingly snug pudenda. The greenskinned digit had slid into Sheru without a moment's resistance, save for her extreme tightness, the feel of which made the orc woman shiver in anticipation. No, Sheru wasn't a virgin, not as far as Urla could tell, though she was certainly as tight as one.

Grabbing Sheru by her waist, Urla pulled the light peach-skinned girl against her leather-clad body, her small, apple-sized breasts rubbing against the clothed but obviously much larger breasts of the muscular green female. With her hands bound behind her back as they were, Sheru could do nothing save whine cutely as the strong orcwoman grabbed the teen's tight tushie, groping and rolling the bouncy half-globes in her strong hands, exulting in the feel of Sheru's skin, in the raw eroticism the pubescent mage exuded without even meaning to. It was her innocence, in fact, that most appealed to Urla. This human girl didn't mean to be sexily adorable, but she was, and it sent strange conflicting sensations through Urla, making her at once want to cruelly abuse this fine little hottie until she passed out from forced orgasms, and also want to protect and mother her, keeping her safe from the many dangers that surrounded this little innocent.

Taking a moment to admire the human girl's naked body, kept so perfectly smooth and sensitive by her concealing robes and wide-brimmed hat, to say nothing of the obvious elven ancestry somewhere in her line, Urla raised one finger from Sheru's bum to cup the girl's chin almost tenderly.

"I hope you're human enough to be orcbred," she whispered softly into Sheru's ear. "Eventually, I'm gonna want to breed you with a handsome human maleslave. I just know you'll be even hotter than you are with a full, pregnant belly. And your babies will be just as hot as you when they get old enough for breeding." Her grin widened as she watched Sheru's look of shock and rising horror as she realized how powerless she was to prevent Urla from doing whatever she pleased with her. "Some of those babies will have green skin, though," she added with a wink, before catching Sheru's perfect pink lips against her own tusked mouth, kissing the girl with bestial passion, her strong hands roaming the exquisitely smooth skin of the squirming human girl with relish.

Luna glanced to the side at a movement from the orc holding her shoulder, then turned away in disgust as she saw that he was simply tugging open his breeches, freeing his quickly thickening penis. The other four orcs in the circle were doing the same, stroking themselves eagerly as they watched their leader molest the helpless human hottie in their midst. The mocha-skinned girl tried to blot out any thought of the inhuman males around her. Instead, she focused solely on Sheru, biting her lower lip to keep from making a sound.

Sheru's bottom tensed as she was bent slightly backwards, Urla relinquishing her brutal tonguelock with Sheru's mouth to engulf the girl's pert, perfect breasts, gnawing on them like a starving wolf. Biting down lightly on Sheru's erect nipples, the most exquisite shade of coral pink that Urla had ever seen, she was rewarded by a cry from Sheru as the girl's head fell back. It wasn't a cry of pain. Quite the opposite: Sheru was taking pleasure from her rough handling, her body arching and pressing instinctively into the orc woman's touch like a cat arching into a stroking hand.

"This girl's mine," growled Urla suddenly in orcspeak, breaking her lipgrip on Sheru's nipples as the tall, purple-skinned orc started to approach, reaching out with a hand towards Sheru. She looked around at her five squadmates and sneered as she saw their expressions of eagerness, and at their erect, rampant cocks standing free of their loincloths or breeches. "She's gonna be my pet, and I'm gonna be careful who gets to breed her. Take that one instead," she added, jerking a thumb towards Luna, who started, eyes wide, as she got the meaning of Urla's words even if she didn't understand them.

"She's for Ralist," snorted the archer orc holding Luna's shoulder. "'sides, we can wait 'til you've eaten out the pinkskin, and she's gnawed on your girlcock." He looked around at the other orcs, who didn't look nearly as agreeable to that idea as he was, making the archer's eyebrows rise. "Okay, maybe we can wait until after you get a taste, anyway."

"You can have her if she's not a virgin," Urla said, reaching around to untie Sheru's wrists, then gripping the human girl's wrists, massaging them with surprising tenderness.

"Ralist always knows if we did that," said one of the other orcs, a grey-skinned savage with tribal scar lines on his intelligent, almost humanlike face. "Remember how he turned the last warrior to pop a virgin into a pig?"

"Remember?" laughed Urla, looking up from where she'd been nuzzling Sheru's shoulder. "He was the best-tasting pig I ever helped eat!" Then she smirked, and reached down with one hand into the large fur-lined pouch on her belt. "But that's only if we're the ones to nail her." She pulled out a smooth, glistening length of black rock and pressed it into Sheru's small hands. "Not if it's somebody else who does it."

Sheru paused for a moment, looking down in confusion at the slightly curved cylinder the orc woman known as Urla had given her. Then her eyes widened as she recognized the swelling of the head, the slight bumps along its length. It was some sort of fake penis! She almost dropped it in her shock, but Urla's hands closed around her own, and the orc woman motioned towards Luna with her short muzzle.

"Do her," she said in the common tongue. "Make her cry out in pleasure." Her expression then turned solemn as she looked into Sheru's green eyes. "It's better'n what Ralist would do to her, I promise you. He'd make her a sacrifice. This way, at least she'll enjoy it, and she gets to live."

Luna suddenly gave a squeal of surprise as she was shoved forward by the orc that had been holding her shoulder into the middle of the circle, stumbling as she tried to keep her balance, but failing due to her bound wrists. Instead, she ended up falling forward, her cheek hitting the stamped-down grass beneath the tree, her bottom held high. She looked around at the male orcs, each of them nodding eagerly in approval of their leader's plan, before she shook her head in defiance, and started to try to rise back to her knees, and from there to her feet.

Before Luna had even managed to lower her smooth, brown bottom, however, she felt a small, gentle hand stroking one upraised cheek. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Sheru already kneeling behind her, the black dildo in her hand.

"I can't see how we're going to escape, Luna," Sheru said quietly, her voice calm and subtly commanding, making Luna stop her struggles to listen, her eyes never leaving Sheru's. "Not here, not like this. But maybe we'll get a chance later on. That's only if we're both still alive, though. And if this Ralist wants to sacrifice you...," she trailed off, looking down for a moment, before her eyes rose once more to meet Luna's. "They say I'm not a virgin, but it's not true: I've never had sex with anyone." Luna felt the passion behind Sheru's gentle voice as she said this, and knew that it was what Sheru believed to be the truth. "But if I have to lose my virginity," Sheru continued, her cheeks flushing, "I think I'd like it to be with you, Luna."

"Sheru, I...," started Luna, rising slightly, only to have her words cut off as Sheru leaned over her and kissed her.

As the kiss deepened, Sheru's tongue finding Luna's with an unexpected skill that made Luna doubt Sheru's claims to virginity for a moment, neither of the girls really noticed as Urla slipped up and silently slipped her knife through the bonds holding Luna's wrists. Instead, Luna used this sudden freedom to turn around, both girls kneeling as they embraced, sleek young breasts rubbing against each other as they turned their heads to the side, kissing even more deeply and passionately. Almost as one they began to kiss down each others' smooth body, shifting onto their opposite sides as soft pink tongues lapped kittenlike at hard youthful nipples. Hands and mouths caressed smooth, flat stomachs and puffy pubis' as the two teens continued their diagonal descent, until they were both lying on their sides, Sheru staring at the tiny dark bumps that marked the places where Luna had shaved off her developing pubic fuzz, and the snug folds marking the gates of Luna's most sacred, untouched place. Luna meanwhile drank in the sight of Sheru's perfectly smooth, pink cunny, both girls finding the other to be flushed and desperately wet already. Sheru didn't hesitate, her fingers rising to part Luna's tense labia, taking a moment to admire the sight of Luna's hymen before her mouth pressed eagerly to her friend's virgin sex, tongue thrusting forward like a blade to sluice through and against the delicious sex of her friend. Luna cried out in response to this sudden rush of sensations, heightened all the more as Sheru closed her lips on the other girl's pink parts and started to gnaw at them, and then muffled her cries of passion by plunging her own mouth against Sheru's sweet-tasting slit, her tongue burrowing into the other girl's cunny with a will.

Dry-mouthed, Urla licked her lips as she watched the stronger, more dominant Luna roll Sheru from her side onto her back, straddling the young wizardess, pressing her sopping wet sex to Sheru's sweet lips, before Luna lowered her own greedy lips back to work on Sheru's pulsing cunny. With both girls' legs splayed apart as they were, further highlighting the rounded swells of their heart-shaped bottoms, it was easy for all the orcs to see as the tight buds of each girl's bottom began to tense even more tightly, again and again and again, orgasms wracking their inexperienced bodies, making them writhe and buck against each other. Sheru's legs kicked as Luna ate her out with gusto, her naked feet digging small furrows in the ground as her head fell back, her back and hips arching upward at the intensity of pleasure wracking her, before she took a firm grip on the smooth black stone in her one hand, the other holding Luna's quim spread wide to make an easy target, then whispered the words of a spell to negate pain...before she plunged the dildo home with a wet, messy squelch of girljuices.

Bereft of the pain that too often came with losing one's maidenhead, Luna screamed with the rush of intense pleasure that it brought instead, the loud cry muffled as she buried her face against Sheru's convulsing cunny. Sheru, in her turn, jerked and thrashed, her hands gripping the base of the black phallus jerking as well in a staccato beat, almost involuntarily making her pound Luna's pussy good and hard and fast even as she fought to keep up with her tongue against her friend's throbbing clitoris.

So caught up in the intensity of their pleasures were the two human girls that they never saw the nod Urla gave to her teammates, before the five males closed in on the writhing, climaxing teens. They only became aware of the orcs when Sheru suddenly saw a huge, purple-skinned hand grab hold of Luna's tense brown bottom, the huge orc's other hand grabbing the dildo and wrenching it out, tossing it back towards Urla, who caught it effortlessly. Luna's head started up to look back at the ogre-blooded brute, only to have her hair seized by the archer, who pressed his heavily-leaking green cockhead against Luna's resisting mouth, knowing her lips would part soon enough when his ogre-cocked friend plowed his way into the girl's pussy. Sheru, meanwhile, watched with wide eyes and wide mouth as the purple-skinned savage rubbed his bulbous cockhead up and down Luna's tightly-clenching cunny. Before her eyes, the huge male slotted himself into place then, and eased himself slowly forward, taking it slow so as not to damage the girl and spoil the fun for his comrades. Just as he had squeezed about a fourth of his glans between Luna's pulsing labia, his rump and belly tensing as he prepared to drive himself into her fully, the big orc grunted in surprise, looking down. There, he watched wonderingly as Sheru ran her tongue along the underside of his rock-hard shaft, starting at his ogre-sized balls, and going all the way up to the ring of darker flesh at the base of his cockhead.

This was the last thing the purple-skinned orog saw before an arrow suddenly blossomed like a gore-stained flower from his neck. Falling backwards, the half-ogre's cock was spurting his sudden spasmodic death orgasm wildly, droplets of his copious cum pattering down on Luna's naked back and Sheru's upturned face. Catching a few drops of his own, the archer orc who'd been pressing against Luna's lips blinked in surprise, then started up, showing his incredible reflexes in action as he went from totally intent upon orally raping a hot human girl to diving for his bow. He didn't make his third step, however, before two more arrows struck him, catching him in the ribs and the side of his stomach, sending him rolling forward into a heap as the momentum of his attempt for his weapons worked itself out.

Urla spun, grabbing the scimitar and smallshield strapped to her back as she saw their attackers: wolfen! Three of them, in fact; a black-furred younger male and grey-furred older male holding back, bows at the ready, while a towering, heavily-muscled brute of a wolfbeast with flame red fur charged straight towards her, a jagged iron axe raised above his head in one hand, a blood-curdling howl tearing from his throat, shaking her and her comrades to the core even as it seemed to empower the two wolfen hanging back with their ranged weapons. But then he was upon her like a fury from Hell itself, the shield in the red-furred beast's other hand slamming towards her unprotected skull, and she suddenly knew no more.

*

Sheru and Luna were just rising to their knees, cheeks still heavily flushed - almost as flushed as their still-pulsing cunnies - when the last of the orcs fell to the ground, his head severed from his shoulders by a great swing of the firefurred beast that had torn into their midst. His crude-looking breastplate and fur stained with a few spatters of gore, the wolflike humanoid walked over to the two kneeling girls and grinned down at them, making both Sheru and Luna instinctively cover their breasts with their hands, pressing their legs together to hide the smooth treasures to be found there as best as they could.

"You Sheru Windsar?" asked the huge wolfman as he looked down at Sheru, resting his sword across his shoulders as his two comrades stalked forward cautiously, their eyes scanning to opposite sides of the clearing, ensuring that there were no hidden foes lying in wait. "Threetails said that you might need a little help."