FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Brutlra sniffs the air, scowling. The air is clean, and the sky is clear. This isn't like the fields of her home, choked by war and stained by blood.

“Somethin' on yer mind?" comes the smooth voice of the priestess of Xasadnra. Blair lifts her pitchfork into a battle stands as she stands amid the tilled earth.

Brutla pouts, growling as she stares at her opponent. “This is no battlefield. It is the field of life and of growing things. It is a field of weakness, unannointed by the death of enemies."

“You are one of them orcs from those blasted lands," Blair Garten says, a sincere smile across her freckled face. “You should know that appearances are deceivin'. After all, who'd think you'd be packing that club between' yer legs. Will you use that to make me a momma today? Are you the one to become my husband?"

“I bow down to no custom that keeps me from breeding many women and gathering mutiple sires, girl," Brutlra says, snorting, though the prospect does make her cock swell in anticipation. “My body is a weapon and a forge, and I produce warriors!"

“By all means, then, let me show you I am a good suitor for you."

With the match beginning, Brutlra rushes forward, wielding her axe, her oversized cock swinging in her steps, her cry enough to make any man shudder.

But Blair has Xasandra on her side. The cleric pulls back her pitchfork in one hand and thrusts forward, throwing it right in the direction of the barreling orc.

Brutlra fears not the points of a farming tool, and thus, she continues on.

But that's exactly what Blair was looking for.

The pitchfork strikes true, its wide prongs just big enough to fit that veiny sausage between them, the force pulling Brutlra down to her knees as the tool sinks into the dirt.

Brutlra curses and grabs the shaft, dropping her axe, but Blair steps forward, her boot stomping on the tool, burrowing it deeper, squishing the dick slightly.

Brutlra roars, but Blair grabs her by the cheeks and looks her into her eyes. “You got a lot of energy, but ain't got a lot of heart, do ya?" She asks, letting a finger run up along the orc's tusk. “Thinkin' all there is to makin' babies is ta plow at a gal or to reap some spunk off a guy?" She tutts at the orc.

“You haven't beaten me!" Brutrla says, grabbing the cleric's arms and squeezing her. “Unhand me at once, so I may give you those children you desire.

Blair keeps her eyes upon the orc, a sort of control upon her glance that her friendly demeanor usually hides.

Brutlra sees this and her strength wavers.

That's all Blair needs. She lifts her foot and pulls the pitchfork out, which drags the orc along with it. The cleric then spins around, kicking Brutlra in the chest, making her stumble back, the shaft of the tool, smacking her in the face.

Groaning, Brutlra lays there, spread-eagle, trying to blink out the stars covering her vision.

Blair squats up in front of her, removing her gloves one finger at a time. “Now, then, it seems if we're gonna get yer pecker out of this here trap, I reckon I should perform some husbandry on ya. Just sit back and enjoy. Not everything has ta be a fight."

“You're… wrong…" Brutlra sighs, feeling a warm palm around just part of the diameter of that thick pole.

“Oh, how's that?" Blair responds, kissing at the head.

“Everything… in life… is a fight. A fight for survival. And, you of all people should know that the final fight is against death itself. You and your ancient order… they sought immortality through growing new life. We are the same."

Blair lifts up her top, letting her tits spill free. She presses that massive member up against her, marveling at how it goes from her seat to her collar. She slides those mounds up and down along the massive pole and nods in response to the orc's musings. “Ah suppose," she begins, “But it doesn't have ta be that way. New life grows because old life dies. It'll do it no matter if we specifically are the ones ta plant the seeds." She bounces on the orc, sitting on her pitchfork and making it wobble so dangerously close to Brutlra's face.

“But life's about new things—it's about excitement! Don't you revel in new challenges set forth before you? Shucks, girl. Have ya ever been in this situation before?"

Brutlra's eyes focus not on the pole bouncing so dangerously close to her nose, but to the wondrous body before her, pleasuring her, making her member twitch and squirm and ache. “N… no…"

“Are ya sad for havin' experienced it?"

“I'm…. Nngh…. Ashamed!

“Are ya sure?"

“Nn… nngh… y… yes!" She whimpers and whines, arching her back, lifting her hips. The orc squeals as her cock explodes, shooting that fountain of her seed high into that blue sky. Warm splotches of white liquid land upon her lower abdomen and on the chest of the farmer girl, giving them both the feeling of the spilled seed.

Blair stands up, pulling her weapon free from the orc's cock, and she drapes it over her shoulders, giving Brutlra a full view of her topless look. “Well, Brutlra. Ah certainly hope ya learned somethin' from this. I for one learned that ah still gotta look for a husband, but, I was close to bein' smitten by ya."

Brutlra, who had closed her eyes in shame, opens one of them, her chest heaving in her defeated breaths. But, when she sees the woman before her, the orc grins, and she pushes herself up, stumbling to her feet. “Yes…" Brutlra begins. “It was… fun to face a worthy opponent in this Tournament, finally. Your skill is unparalleled"

“Truth be told," Blair says, scratching her nose. “Ah actually was aimin' a bit in front of ya to stop ya. Missed a bit. Might have wound up skewerin' ya pecker if I weren't so lucky."

Brutlra whimpers and nods, holding her cock gingerly. “Yes, well, luck is a part of life, isn't it?"