This story contains depictions of sex acts performed between consenting males (human and otherwise ;) ). If you are underage or living in a region where such material is illegal, please read no further. This story is a fantasy written solely for entertainment, and as such no real persons or events are portrayed. If you like this story and wish to continue reading others like it, consider making a donation to Nifty. I'm writing this in addition to several other more ambitious projects I'm drafting for publication. As such I may take a while between installments. If you're dying for the next chapter shoot, me an encouraging email, and I'll see what I can do. Enjoy :)
Chapter 2
When we had reached the city gates, passing by throngs of people who had come to see the foreign devils, nine black steeds and a covered wagon were waiting for us.
"Kor, Ocht, Mur," barked Uruk, "ready the horses."
Three of the orcs rushed forward, strapping two of the steeds to the wagon and saddling the rest.
"Grog, Borg, Ungar, see to my bride," he said, leering at me. "Make sure he is comfortable."
The other three orcs smiled at me, before turning to the wagon, moving around supplies to make room for my comfort, I supposed. Nothing they could do would make this comfortable, though. Comfort was something I would never know again.
I said goodbye to my home city, Isador, staring at the high stone walls, which had once been protective, but now served as barriers between my old life and my present situation.
"Urukhal," said one of the orcs, grabbing at my arm and pulling me towards the wagon.
What urukhal meant, I did not know, nor did I care. I followed him. I did not fight. There was no use anyway. I climbed into the pile of cushions they had laid out for me, wondering what the orcs were saying in their strange tongue. They watched my every movement hungrily, and I wondered if they were going to eat me after all.
It wasn't until Uruk shouted something that they finally left me there to sulk. I was not alone for long, though, for as soon as the horses had been readied, my new husband, a title that repulsed me more than anything I had ever heard, came to join me. I pulled myself up into a ball, backed as close to the tarp wall as I could.
"Vado!" yelled Uruk, slapping the side of the wagon, and we were off, traveling down the dirt road.
Uruk sat opposite me, legs spread so that I was trapped between them. All the while he leered at me, watching me flinch every time his boot touched my legs.
"Do you fear me, little human?"
"No!" I yelled defiantly.
He chuckled. "Good," he said. "I wouldn't want my Urukhal afraid of me."
I glared at him. I would try to hide my fear, my sadness, but never my hate.
"What's an Urukhal?" I asked.
"You are," he smiled. "That's your name. Uruk's bitch is the literal translation. It says as much on your collar."
"My name is Ansel," I said.
"For yourself, perhaps," he said, "but you will never hear another soul call you that. From now until the day you die, you will be Urukhal. I would suggest you get used to it."
"Never," I muttered.
"Is that a challenge, Urukhal?" he laughed. "You do have some fight. I only hope you don't lose it after the claiming."
I couldn't help but shudder. "Wha-what is the claiming?"
"You'll see tonight," he said, boot rubbing against my thigh. "It's better as a surprise."
Shouting from outside caused Uruk to break our staring contest. He grumbled. "It seems I'm needed elsewhere."
He climbed over the cushion, turning back as he was stepping to the ground. "Until tonight," he said before reaching towards me, grabbing my thigh and pulling me towards him as I floundered. Yanking my chin with a strength I could not defy, his face grew closer to mine until he devoured me.
Or at least that's what it felt like. His lips covered mine as I squirmed beneath him. I had never thought this would be the experience of my first kiss, forced from me by an orc.
As he pulled back from his rapacious advance, without thinking I slapped him.
Or at least I tried to slap him.
Laughing wildly, he caught my hand before it could touch his leathery cheeks. He pulled back his lips, revealing those razor sharp teeth.
"If that's the way you're going to use your hand, I might just eat it."
I jerked my hand back, and he let it go, allowing me to fall back, sprawling on the cushions before scrambling to my feet, putting my hands in my armpits.
"Or perhaps you can find another purpose for that appendage that would bring us both some pleasure."
With one last leer he was gone, leaving me to fret.
Night came too quickly, and with it our wagon train came to a halt. I waited, waited for some large body to come and claim me, and as I waited, I prayed, though I had little faith that my prayers would go answered.
"Urukhal."
It wasn't him, my husband, but one of his comrades, who held his arm out to me, an assistance offered to help me down. It made me feel a bit like a princess, and to them I supposed I was, wed to their prince. I had a new appreciation for the plight of women, being sold off to husbands they did not choose. I was more like them now than I had ever thought I would be, much more than I wished.
The orc left me standing on the muddy road as he and his comrades setup camp. We had made it farther south than I had ever been, well beyond the borders of my own country. Flat grassland stretched for miles all around me, the mountains in the distance like clouds. I wished that I had paid more attention when my tutor had covered geography, as it made me wary to know not where I was. I could always ask Uruk, but nothing sounded less appealing than conversing with my husband.
I did not see him amongst his brethren, though he was above such menial tasks as they were performing. When the two large tents had been constructed, a great fire roaring between them, one of the orcs came to collect me, and I straightened my back, walking behind him. It was only now that I realized I had gone the whole day without eating. How strange to think that I had been at my castle for breakfast and was having dinner with a band of orcs. Strange and depressing.
I sat down by the fire, watching them preparing their food, trying to make out what it was that they, well, now we ate. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary, dried meat and bread. As they noticed my stares, the orcs muttered to each other, their mouths muffled with food so that even if I did understand their language their words would have been unintelligible. Still when they handed me the bread I tried to smile, forgetting for a moment my hatred, falling back on good manners.
But only for a moment.
"No!"
My husband.
"Urukhal does not eat tonight," he yelled, clambering forth from the high grasses where he had been hiding for some reason. "The claiming is easier on an empty stomach."
I handed them back the bread. Thoughts of the claiming killed my appetite anyway.
"Grog," he said, "take him to my tent."
Scowling at Uruk I allowed his underling to lead me away from the fire. The first thing I noticed after pulling back the flap was the single bed pallet. I was either supposed to sleep on the floor or with him. There was no other furniture, no other place to sit aside from the grass. Still I would not touch his pallet until I was forced, so the grass it was.
Thirsty, hungry and terrified I sat in the dark, picking at the grass, praying for some kind of deliverance, my husband's death, although even if he did die one of the other orcs would probably take me as his own. I saw the way they looked at me, the hunger in their eyes, the way their hands lingered whenever they touched me. Either they'd make me be their bride, or they'd eat me, and to be honest I didn't know which one was worse. For once I wished I was ugly. If I hadn't been pretty I'd be home right now instead of married off to a rapacious orc.
If only I'd known how much worse it was about to get.
I heard them carousing for about an hour before the clunk of footsteps let me know that someone was approaching the tent. I stiffened, rising to my feet, readying myself for a fight I would doubtlessly lose.
When he stepped through the flap, tying it closed behind him, I noticed that he was no longer wearing his leather armor, the only piece of clothing a breechclout that left little to the imagination. My eyes inexorably drawn to the impression of the snake beneath the thin cloth, I couldn't see his lude grin.
"Does it satisfy, my queen?" he said.
What?! Queen?!
"I'm not a queen!" I yelled, scowling at him, making myself as tall and masculine as I could. "I'm a man!"
If only my angry outbursts were met with anything but mirth.
"You say that like I don't know," he laughed, "like it isn't what attracts me to you, little mate."
He scratched at his crotch, and I flushed, eyes going wide as I saw the head of his massive cock.
"And what attracts you to me."
"I'm not attracted to you!" I spat at him, backing up as he walked forward.
"The blood in your cheeks says otherwise, little one," he leered, growing closer, backing me into the corner.
"No it doesn't!" I said, both to him and to myself. "I'm just mad."
"So this," he said, snapping the leather snap of his breechclout like it was a string--how could he be so strong?!--letting the cloth fall to the ground, freeing the beast to hang long, thick and dark from his hairy pubis, "does nothing for you?"
His huge cock, more than a foot in length and as thick around as my wrist, was mesmerizing, and as much as I hated it, I could not tear my eyes away.
"No," I said, but I was lying. The monster cock had stirred something in me, something no woman ever had.
It wasn't just his cock, though. The ropey muscles that bulged all over his massive body, his huge, low hanging nuts, brewing his male essence, his virility, his masculine, warrior energy, it all made me feel something I'd never really felt before. If I didn't hate him so much, I would... I would... well, what would I do? I didn't really know. Luckily for me, he wasn't doing anything to help me stop hating him.
I winced as his paw clapped me on my crotch, talons ripping my hose, releasing my hard dick. "You're lying."
And then I slapped him as hard as I could.
I think it hurt me worse than it hurt him.
Seizing my stinging hand, he brought it up to his mouth, to his sharp teeth.
"Don't. Please," I pleaded.
And then he licked me, his spit covering my palm.
"I have a better use for something so delicate," he said.
Clutching my wrist, keeping my palm open, he lowered my hand down.
I tried to jerk free, but he was too strong. It was as though I was trying to pull my hand out from under a house.
"Touch me," he said.
He pressed my palm into his cock. It was warm, almost hot, and although his skin was leathery in appearance, the flesh of his manhood was smooth and pliable. I wrapped my fingers around the hardening pole, just as I would my own. He was so close now, his smell filling my nostrils, a natural, acidic musk that gave me a heady high from being surrounded by it. His paw clasped around mine, he guided my hand down, my fingers stroking the bottom of his shaft until I reached the massive, harpoon-like head, rubbing my fingerpads along the sensitive slit.
"I know you want it," he said.
I hated him, hated what he had done to me. He had stolen my life away, forced me into an interspecies marriage. Why then was my body defying me, pooling with lust for this monster?
"Stroke me."
And I did, running my hand up and down his hardening prick, his mammoth erection that hung from his pubic mound like a hook. Lost in the motion, in the feel of his flesh beneath my fingertips, I didn't notice when he unclasped my wrist, when my movement was freely my own.
Or was it, really?
Between his intoxicating aroma, the heat of his skin against mine, I wasn't thinking clearly. I wasn't myself.
Or was I merely discovering a new part of me, a facet of my identity that it had taken him to find out?
"Give in, little mate. Do what you were made to do."
His cock now fully hard, turgid and muscular just like the rest of him, a strength that made me hum with desire, I continued to stroke him, pulling this massive prick's massive prick. As I picked up speed, driving his cock through my fist, he started to moan, and with every guttural keen the hairs on my body stood stiff, my own cock pulsing in time with his, dripping the same lubricating goo.
"Urukhal," he breathed.
I looked up to see his thick lips murmuring my new name.
"Kiss me."
I didn't want this, did I? How had I been so disgusted with him not even an hour ago yet now was stroking his dick, riding a wave of sympathetic pleasure?
His lips were flesh, too. I wondered how they would taste, how he would taste. This creature, this beast I hated with my mind and heart and yet pined for with my body, would I do what he commanded?
Yes.
My lips brushed against his. The skin here was just as pliable, thick and muscular as his virile member. With a growl, he grasped my head, pushing me into him, his hard mouth opening mine as his cock head pressed into my abdomen. Never releasing his root, allowing it to burrow into my jerken, I let him overpower me, open and explore me, dance along my tongue with his own, fill me with a sweet and spicy flavor, like mulled wine with honey and pepper. His spit sizzled along my tongue, on the roof of my mouth, down my throat, and as it did, almost like poppies it soothed and numbed everything it touched.
He pulled my head to the side, kissing his way down to my vulnerable neck, suckling at the flesh, coating it with his smell.
"What are you doing to me?" I moaned.
With a throaty chuckle he brought his mouth to my ear.
"Teaching you pleasure, my virgin queen."
And then he bit me, sharp teeth digging into the side of my neck, breaking the skin. I cried out in shock and pain, but in a moment the pain was gone, replaced by a warmth, a soothing, tingling, euphoria-inducing sensation that trickled over my body, overpowering my brain, driving me to madness.
"Fuck," I moaned.
"With pleasure," he purred.
Is this what I wanted? To lose my virginity to a beast?
Yes. Fuck yes.
In the morning I would probably hate myself, but I didn't care. I would do anything to keep this feeling. His body was a drug. His smell, his spit, his cock, his bite, all imbuing such a high I had no choice but to indulge.
"How?" I murmured.
Leering down at me, his hard cock pulsing with strength, he brought his hands up to my shoulders.
"First," he said. "We need to get you out of those clothes."
Dragging his nails down the front of my jerkin, ripping the thick fabric before tearing it from my body, shredding my linen shirt alongside it. Before I could react to the destruction of the only clothes I had, he'd bent his head, enveloping my nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before taking a bite.
Throwing my head back as pain and pleasure racked through me, keening like a bitch dog being breached, I moaned.
"Again."
His teeth pressed into my skin, invading my breast. Spit mixed with my blood, entering my bloodstream, shooting off to my brain.
When he pulled off of me, rising up to full height, I could see my blood on his lips, and yet as my hand ran across my chest there was no wound, his mouth healing the tears it had sown.
"Your taste, my little mate, is one of which I'll never tire. So like my mother," he said, gazing into my eyes, "and yet so different."
"Your mother?"
"He's just as beautiful as you, but not nearly as fiery." He sneered, baring his teeth.
He?!
But then his mouth was on my other breast, biting and suckling, covering every cut with his tongue, sending message after message to my brain, drowning out all thought.
My hose in a shredded pile at my feet, he pulled me close, lifting me into his arms, sweeping me off of my feet. Cradling me, my head at his muscular hairy breast, I breathed him in, knowing that despite how much I hated him, I had never felt more cared for, more cherished, more exquisitely blissful than I did now.
"You're ready," he said.
"For what?" I said, running my hand through his curly black fur, feeling the oils of his body beneath my fingertips, giving me the same numbing, tingling feeling as his spit.
"The claiming."
He lowered me to the pallet, covering me with his body, rubbing his hairy chest and rippling abdomen against my smooth skin, kissing me deeply, growling and purring into my throat. Slowly, licking and biting every inch of skin on his way down, he brought his lips to my cock, kissing the head, letting his long tongue lick up and down my shaft.
Torrid passion set my cock afire, and I cried out.
In one fluid motion he swallowed me whole.
"Fuck!" I writhed beneath him, twisting my fingers through his silky, straight mane.
Keeping his teeth at bay, he sucked on my cock, running his tongue up and down, flicking at my slit, coating my throbbing member with his magical spit. His mouth so warm, so powerful, and as I watched my cock passing in and out of those thick, black lips I shuddered. At every second I felt like I was about to explode, but I never did, though his throat almost begged for it. My pleasure did not suffer from it, though. I did not care if or when I would cum, just so long as Uruk kept driving me wild.
Lifting off of my cock, licking the last bead of pre-cum from my slit, he rose onto his haunches, raising my legs with his bulging biceps, kissing the inside of my thigh as he pushed my knees into my chest.
"So beautiful," he murmured as he stared at my ass. "Worth all of the gold in the world for a taste. Hold your legs up, my little mate. I'm going to change your life forever."
I swallowed, fearing the fire in those red eyes, the hunger, and yet I did as he told, pinning my legs to my chest.
I watched as he brought his head lower, rubbing each lobe of my ass, kissing and sucking and moaning until I felt his lips at my puckering hole.
And then he pushed his tongue inside of me.
I cried out, rocking and moaning, as his tongue and his teeth and his lips devoured my virgin rosebud, opening and engaging my hole, causing it to throb on his muscular tongue as it went deeper and deeper into my sacred passage.
He was right. My life would never be the same. There would be no way that I could ever forget the pleasure, forget the need that it had awakened within me for as his essence, his spit, the oils from his skin invaded me, it was different than it had been everywhere else. Instead of numbing my anal ring, it excited it, made it more sensitive, as if every microscopic piece of flesh, every cell was covered in nerves, each one triggered to a point of ecstasy. Ecstasy and need. For while his tongue journeyed deep into my ass I could suddenly feel every inch of my anal cavity that was empty, feel it almost like a burning. Though I had never had the thought before, nor even knew how it could be done, I needed to be filled. I needed him to do something that would dampen this fire within me.
"Uruk," I whimpered, my breathing heavy, the fire in my ass reaching outwards, overwhelming every sensation.
As he pulled his tongue from my whispering eye, licking up my crack, savoring my taint, planting soft kisses on my nuts, he sighed. "I could eat this cunt for days."
"Uruk," I pleaded, unable to focus on his words. "It's burning."
"Fear not, my sweet," he purred, running his claws down my belly. "Your cunt is just hungry."
"Make it stop," I writhed, the fire stretching from my toes to my lips, the epicenter a roaring inferno, scalding every nerve.
"I can put it out, this fire," he said, tracing my overly sensitive hole with his nail.
"Please! I'll do anything."
He chuckled, rubbing my pinned thighs. "It will hurt," he said, "at least at first, but then your pussy will adapt."
"Just stop it!"
He leered at me, pulling at his hard member, taking precum from his slit and rubbing it onto my quavering hole. The precum soothed and sizzled, and I could feel my hole relaxing wherever it touched.
"Do you know what you are asking for?" he asked. "You need to ask for the gift I give. I can only claim you if you give yourself to me. It has to be your choice."
I tried to think, but it was difficult through all of this pain. He talked about claiming, of choice, of giving myself to him. What did I have to give to him? How could he cover my anal cavity with his cooling precum? Fill me fully so that none of me was empty?
And then I realized.
"You're going to fuck me?"
"Yes," he said. "When I have cum inside of you, little mate, you will be satisfied. At least, until you need it again. I will mark you with my seed, which you will carry. You will belong fully to me."
Maybe if I'd been capable of stringing more than a few coherent thoughts together I would have told him no, but in my current state I could focus on nothing other than the pain. It had to stop. I would do anything to douse this flame.
"Fuck me," I said.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
"Yes!" I yelled. "Just do it! Stick your cock in my butt and cum!"
He roared. "Use its proper name, little mate. An ass serves a different purpose than a pussy. Your hole will do nothing but take orc cock now."
Fine! Cunt, pussy, call it whatever. It was his now, anyway. I was his. If I couldn't even go by Ansel anymore, I was no better than an orc bitch.
"Fuck my pussy!" I cried.
He crawled over me, covering me with his beastly body. This towering monster was about to be inside of me. I had seen bitchdogs be breached before, the look in their eyes. I was terrified.
"Rest your legs on my shoulders, Urukhal. Let me do the work," he said.
I closed my eyes, lying still, waiting for it to happen.
He lightly slapped my cheek. "Look at me," he growled. "I need to see your soul when I take you."
His breath filling my nostrils as he breathed deeply, balancing on one tree trunk arm as he lined his dick up to my pussy with his other, notching the head against my hole. Both arms down, caging me in beneath him, he pressed forward, locking his eyes on mine.
The harpoon head was so wide, there was no way his mammoth cock could fit inside of me, could there be?
I should have known. There was no door my Herculean husband couldn't knock down, no barrier he could not breach.
It was a pain worse than any I'd ever felt, worse than the burning, worse than the bites, worse than being kicked by a horse. It felt like my body was being split in two.
"AAAAAAAHHHH!!" I screamed.
"Fuck," he said, eyes rolling back in his head. "So tight and warm. Father said manpussy was good, but--fuck!--I didn't think--God's above!--anything could be this good."
"TAKE IT OUT!"
"I can't, Urukhal," he said, swooping down on me with kisses, "or else I'll have to reopen you, which would be much worse." The head of his cock pulsed in my torn hole. "The pain will pass in a moment. I promise. I'll go slowly my love, until you are ready."
Maybe it was the fact that the pain was receding, with every drop of precum healing the wounds of his pole's entry, or maybe it was kisses, the look of rapt delight in his red eyes, in his wide smile, or maybe it was because he'd called me his love, regardless, I didn't feel like fighting, and the next time his lips passed mine, I kissed him back.
He went slowly, like he promised, watching me all the time, stopping each time I'd grimace, allowing me to get used to every inch of his massive root, and with every pause, every kiss, I felt myself losing the battle with my heart.
"Urukhal," he groaned.
"Uruk," I whimpered, feeling his powerful arms, how safe they made me feel to know that they would always be there to protect me.
"I'm taking your virginity," he said, pushing in another inch.
"Uhhh," I keened, "take it."
"You're my cockwhore now," he said, his manhood pulsing in my stretched and throbbing pussy. "My bride and my bitch."
"Husband," I moaned, curling my fingers through his bountiful chest hair, his virility driving me crazy.
"I knew I would have you," he said. "Had to have you. Your beauty would have been wasted anywhere else."
I didn't know if what he said was true, but I doubted that anyone else could have brought me to this point of painful ecstacy.
"And now that I do," he said, "I'll never let you go. Every day I will keep you drunk on my seed, have you crying to be bred. A hundred little brats I'll sire. Your pussy will never be empty."
I clawed his back as he surged even deeper, hitting something within me that almost made me explode. A few more inches and I felt the coarse hair of his pubis tickling my ass cheeks. One more push and his heavy bull nuts smacked against my ass.
"Fuck!" Uruk cried. "I'm inside of you, mate. Your pussy has been conquered. I have shaped it to take my cock, to be the sheath to my mighty sword. Your virgin flower will be soaked with my seed. Now, my love, it is time to breed you."
He pulled back, carrying my anal walls with him.
It was unlike anything I'd ever felt. My mind went haywire, my heart erratic as every sensation was overwhelmingly rapturous.
I cried out, moaning and clawing at his back as his muscles crashed into me, his balls beating a tattoo on my ass, his cock turning my insides into chaos.
"Uruk," I cried, watching his face as he sweated above me, "husband. Kiss me."
With his tongue dancing in my mouth, his cock pummelling my insides with quicker and quicker bursts, I wrapped my arms around his neck, raising off of the pallet.
"Fuck," he moaned. "I'm close."
Losing himself in the rough fuck, pounding my cunt like a hammer to a nail, he didn't notice as I took a page from his book, kissing my way to the crook of his neck, where I decided to take a bite.
"FUCK!" His eyes went huge as his face contorted. "I'M CUMMING! SPERMING YOUR HUNGRY CUNT! TAKE MY SEED!"
"Fuck yes, Uruk!" I cried. "Breed my pussy! Give me your babies!"
"TAKE YOUR HUSBAND'S CUM!" "FUCK!" we cried in unison as he released load after hot load so deep in me it felt like it might come out of my mouth. I felt his seed running down the walls of my pussy, coating me with his jism, branding me forevermore as his bitch.
Grunting and moaning, clawing at each other, kissing and biting as he pumped me full to bursting with cum, finally sating me. My mind so lost to the bliss of his seed spilling into me I hadn't realized that I had cum myself, coating both of our stomach's in white.
Holding each other as we came down from our high, sighing and sweating and breathing in our communal smell, his overwhelming maleness and the scent of our cum keeping me rock hard.
"So, how does it feel, Urukhal? Are you happy to be married?" he purred, stroking my cheek.
I kissed him, probing his mouth with my tongue. I suppose I was. Funny to think that just this morning I'd thought my life had ended when really it had just begun.
"Husband?" I asked. "Could we do it again."
He roared with laughter before meeting me for another kiss.
"Always."