The Fall of Ninevar

Garam Greybone surveyed the carnage around him with satisfaction, the blood lust in him not yet faded. The city-state of Ninevar had fallen, and with it the spoils were his. Well, not just his.

Tersiar, the Warlord's second-in-command, pointed toward the town nestled beneath the ramparts on which they stood.

"Look, Master. Our orc allies waste no time in taking their spoils."

The blond-bearded warlord peered down below toward the horrors unfolding. Already the sturdily built orcs were ransacking the town, moving house to house. Burning. Looting. But most of all, raping.

"Come. Let us see if Sakuk and Hordrak have yet breached the inner keep." Sakuk the Terrible was the orc army's greatest champion and Hordrak the Black was its chieftain, though nominally both had sworn fealty to Garam and his cause. "And where is that infernal wizard, I wonder?" the warlord grumbled.

"I saw Asterar descend the ramparts shortly after our forces breached the main city-gate, Sir."

'What is he up to?' Garam wondered. He knew that Asterar wanted something for himself out of this wealthy city-state, something more than just simple plunder, but what? Garam understood the necessity of having the evil wizard and his savage orcish horde as allies as they continued their path of conquest, but sometimes he wondered if the extra aggravation was entirely worth it.

"Come," he growled to Tersiar. The two chainmail-clad warriors descended into town. Soon the screams and cries and the stench of burning reached their ears and nostrils.

They passed what had once been the home of a prosperous merchant. The merchant and his wife lay dead in the courtyard, their throats slashed by an orcish blade. One of the orcs who had probably done the slashing now loomed savage and unclothed above a helpless young maiden - likely the merchant's daughter. Her clothes had been torn away. The naked Ninevari beauty was on her knees in the dirt, fingering her cunt while she looked up at him uncertainly.

"Wet your hole for me, wench. Get excited for what's in store for you," the unkempt orc growled. It was incredible what the desire for survival could do to a person. Even now, Garam watched with a kind of fascination as the helpless girl managed to lose herself in a thread of pleasure despite her obvious grief.

"Now come here and suck," the beast snarled with an angry jerk of his chin. The Ninevari captive shuffled forward. Soon the girl's fingers were gripping the base of the orc's gigantic cock as she sucked frantically on the tip and pumped its vein-engorged girth with her tiny hands.

"YES!!! Suck, wench. Get my mighty cock ready for your tight human pussy. You will be my cock's first conquest this night. You will know the true glory that is orcish manhood. Rejoice!"

Garam noted how the girl's face and jaw contorted around the cock she now sucked. The orc's member was huge - far bigger than any normal human's. Fat and tall, the orc's penis had to be at least 12 inches long and it took the girl both hands to wrap her fingers around it. The warlord watched as the feral orc put his meaty hand in the maiden's hair and guided her mouth further down his shaft.

Her desperate gurgling noises soon joined the more strident screams in the distance while Garam found himself staring at the rosebud opening of the brunette captive's ass and the tantalizing promise of her bare pussy. Her long, dark brown hair cascaded smoothly down her back as she strove to take in that massive orcish prick with only limited success. Her saliva trickled down the spike-like girth of it, and yet even so she had hardly taken more than half a finger's length of that throbbing dick between her lips.

SLAP!

The Ninevari girl went sprawling onto her back. She coughed violently as orcish pre-cum dribbled down her chin.

"Enough, bitch. Your sucking skills are pathetic. But before I roast your tit-flesh over the fire tonight to make myself a hearty meal, you can please my cock in other ways. Lay back and spread yourself to me. Show me that pink pussy!"

The girl's pathetic pleas for mercy were soon drowned out by more distant screams. Then her fragile, willowy, and pale figure disappeared beneath the orc's bulk as he slid between her legs. There was a muffled squeal from the girl as the orc raider drove his meaty shaft inside her. He placed one of his huge beefy hands over the girl's face and pressed her skull into the dirt as he fucked her. Their bodies joined as one with a loud, rhythmic smacking as the orc's cock found the girl's depths. His animalistic grunts overlaid her groans before they turned into soft moans beneath him. Garam stared at the sight of the orc's muscular buttocks clenching up with each and every thrust, the girl's delicate cunt lips abraded by the knifing motion of that elongated orcish manhood, those balls slapping against soft flesh as the merchant's daughter could do nothing but let spew muffled pleas into the palm of the orc warrior's hand.

"PLSS!!! MRCY!!! UUUUGGGHHH!!!!!"

Garam felt his cock twitch to life. He found himself imagining the prodigious load of orcish seed that would soon be scalding the insides of the maiden's womb.

"What's wrong, Archbishop? Does this display of orcish stamina not please you?"

Garam and Tersiar turned in time to see one of Garam's old and wily veterans taunting a portly captive he was now dragging along in his custody. The man had been stripped naked with his wrists tied behind his back, though he still wore the amulet of his office. Garam's warrior led the man on a rope-leash and now stopped before his commander.

"I thought you might want to talk to him, Sir. This is the Archbishop of Ninevar. He may have information we can use."

Garam nodded at his warrior in thanks before turning toward the Archbishop. The man had a frightened face, flabby jowls, and ruddy cheeks. He was staring distastefully but, it could be noted, not looking away as the nameless orc pounded into his captive, pinning her to the dirt with his cock.

"Please don't let that beast hurt Kaysa. He'll kill her!" the Archbishop protested.

The warlord glanced one more time at the slender brunette blanketed by the orc's bulk, his cock swimming in her depths as the rhythmic smacking continued. The girl seemed to have accepted - or more like resigned herself - to her fate. She spread her thighs as much as nature allowed, her legs splayed wide as she kept herself opened for him. The girl's hands clutched at the arm attached to the hand which still remained clamped over her face. Her plaintive groans had subsided to softer grunts, to signs of only the most primal arousal as her cunt stretched to accommodate that surging testament to orcish virility.

"It is not my place to interfere with the proper taking of plunder," the warlord replied darkly. "And you should be more concerned about yourself, fat man."

He reached out and fondled the heavyset man's cock and testicles. "Do you not know that it is the tradition of orc men to cut off the manhood and testicles of their vanquished male foes, preserve them in jars of brine, and send them back as trophies and delicacies to their orc wives back home, who EAT them?"

The Archbishop grew visibly pale at that revelation. For a second, Garam enjoyed the satisfaction of seeing his fear and wondered if the fat fool would faint right in front of him.

"Please, I'll tell you whatever you want! Ask me anything!" the cleric babbled. Satisfied that he had the man's cooperation, the warlord nodded at Tersiar to drag him along.

"Come, you can join us on our walk to the royal keep. Let us see if King Cuthbert and his family have managed to withdraw to their last bastion at the center of the city to make their final stand. You may prove a useful hostage."

They made their way through the city, observing more carnage, destruction, and depravity. Upon entering the city's main square, the trio was met with a curious sight: four of the city's most well-esteemed men lay naked on the hard stone cobbles, their wrists tied behind their backs, while four beautiful Ninevari women humped on their laps facing away from them, their pussies filled with cock as they ground atop their men like sluts possessed.

A powerful orcish warrior, his armor still spattered with the viscera from battle, carried a whip which he occasionally let slap against the back of one of the unfortunate women, wresting the occasional shriek to join the din of the fallen city.

"Hump those cocks, Ninevari scum. Put on a show for us. Show your husbands' cocks one final good time. You are now nothing but tit-flesh and holes and entertainment to us, little whores! Pump those pussies! Harder! Faster! The woman who gets their husband to hold out the longest before coming gets eaten LAST," he roared. In response, the gathering crowd of orc spectators hooted in excitement. Many of the orcs were already stripping out of what little armor they still wore. Soon the frenzy would begin. Garam knew how the orc mind worked, how their basest instincts ruled them.

As soon as the female captives were done draining the balls of their husbands, two things would likely happen in quick succession: the women would be dragged off to be raped and eventually eaten, and the men would have their cocks and testicles cut off for trophies. Orcs were truly vile and evil creatures. Although Garam couldn't deny the effectiveness of the orcs' methods in terrifying their enemies, even he had trouble stomaching the worst of their excesses and depravities.

"Ho there, great Warlord. Have you come to see me at work?" the orc with the whip now called to Garam as he, Tersiar, and the Archbishop entered the city square.

Garam recognized that orc. He was one of the captains. They called him Krekthor the Cruel. Like most orcs, he loomed a towering 7 feet tall, most of it bristling with sheer muscle. Although the orc still wore his breastplate, he had stripped out of everything else so that now his cock sprang upward like an obscene green sword.

"You seem to have things well in hand," Garam said drily to the big orc. The orc smiled a toothy grin before turning to send his whip snaking outward. Garam watched the well-sculpted ass cheeks of the woman second from the right descending toward the dark forest of her husband's pubic curls as her pussy gripped his cock before she writhed and shouted at the top of her lungs. A fresh welt appeared where Krekthor's whip had kissed her skin.

"As you can see, my skill with a whip has not yet forsaken me," the orc agreed with a nod toward one of the few humans he respected.

The warlord stared for a few more long moments at the scene: the four pale beauties were considerably younger than their patrician husbands, young enough to be their daughters. Likely all four had been arranged marriages. The older blue-blooded elite often took a second wife after their first wives died in childbirth, which was all too regrettably common.

"Harder, slut. Your cunt should squeeze your husband's shaft with LOVE. It will be the last time he feels the snug fit of your fuckhole, so make it count," Krekthor boomed.

Krekthor now spoke to the girl who humped second from the left. Her chestnut hair was tied up in a ponytail, and her lithesome figure bounced on her husband's lap, his cock sheened in pre-cum and her own body's fluids.

"Yes Master, please don't whip me more! PLEASE!" the girl squealed, her cunt smacking down to encase her beloved's girth once more. She gripped her lover's ankles for leverage and moaned as she fucked him.

Grudgingly mollified by his terrified captive's eager display, Krekthor relented and sent the whip to the woman on the far left instead. Another screech rent the air as a girl with a short clump of lustrous sable hair felt the kiss of the sharp leather strike her backside.

"AY! PLEASE NO MORE!"

"Shut up and fuck, rapemeat! We should all see your cunt slapping hard toward the base of your husband's cock until you engulf ALL of it. No slacking. Fill that hole or know my whip!"

All four girls seemed to bounce more fervently now, flesh smacking against flesh. Their sensual backs arched and their smooth and alluring butt cheeks rose and fell. All four pussies impaled themselves at a steady cadence while the male captives beneath them could only grunt and look up at the night sky with tortured faces. For all eight of those poor captives, the conflicted bliss of shame-filled lust would soon give way to deepening horrors.

Indeed, the four naked couples continued their degrading display as the rest of their orcish audience rained down demeaning threats disguised as encouragement. The second woman from the right was especially beautiful, with long, flowing red hair.

'I know her from somewhere, but where?' Garam thought, racking his brain. Then it hit him: before the war had begun, he distantly remembered her on a Ninevari ambassador's arm, perfection personified in a gown of damask silk. Now... this... reduced to enduring a kind of twisted and shameful pleasure coupling with her husband under the watchful merriment of a perverse orcish mob. Given her stunning elegance and beauty, perhaps it was no surprise that one of the more vicious-looking orc warriors now singled her out.

"Come now, redhead. Hump your puny mate WELL. As soon as you drain his balls, I'll have your sweet pussy skewered on a proper orcish spike." Soon the vile beast was stepping forward, tearing off his loincloth as he towered above the humping girl. The orc stared down hungrily at the redhead's perfect, alabaster-pale breasts, sheened in sweat, as his 13-inch monstrosity of vein-engorged flesh saluted her nakedness. The redhead's haunted gaze alighted dully on the bulbous tip of that orcish cock as if to acknowledge that it would decide her fate even as her cunt engulfed the warm, throbbing shaft of the man she loved.

"She likes what she sees, boys. Look how she stares! She knows her own pathetic husband can't offer what I can!" the orc shouted to general guffaws of approval from the throngs around him. Yet the orc's threat of ravishment was far from the most brutal promise of things to come...

Several of the less lust-obsessed orcs were now sharpening their knives and haggling over which set of cock and testicles among the four husbands they would take as their trophy. Meanwhile the remaining orc warriors eagerly awaited Krekthor's sign that the four wretched female captives had all finished making their husbands come so that a full-fledged rape orgy could begin in earnest.

Just then Garam heard the first of the husbands surrender: it was the man lying beneath the girl with the ponytail. She moaned as her cunt sheathed his shaft and then his groan, like a plaintive confession, flew from his tortured lungs. All the orcs could tell that he was spurting inside his wife. The slender brunette had time to grind her pussy for a few precious moments, wringing the final drops from her lover's balls. But then the nearest orc warrior, too overcome with lust-crazed desire, was already leaping forward. The orc, a burly, scar-faced brute, gripped her by the armpits and lifted the flailing girl off of her husband's lap. The brown-haired female captive had time to squeal while gaping at the gigantic green manhood standing at attention before her as the brute lowered her sex onto his cock even as it was in the midst of still dripping with her husband's seed.

With a wet slurp-like noise, the orc impaled his victim. The brunette's arms frantically looped about his bull neck as he cupped her hips, lifting and dropping her onto his cock. His cock was far too tall for her cunt to take it all in. She bottomed out on it repeatedly, her cunt lips clinging to a spot at least five inches above where those orcish testicles now swung in time to the violent jostling of her fragile figure.

"Mmmm. Yes, we fuck now, rapemeat. We fuck and fuck until dinnertime, and THEN we see how you TASTE in a good orcish stew."

"Oh please," the brunette groaned. "Please have mercy on me! I'll cooperate. I'll make it good for you!" she begged, her slippery sex, still aroused from instinct, making wet sounds of suction as he drove her up and down his shaft. Yet even as she spoke another impatient orc, far too impatient to wait his turn, stalked over to her from the other side. His huge, calloused fingers caressed her beautiful back and ass cheeks like sandpaper, and then he was positioning the enormous tip of his mushroom-shaped cock at the girl's tiny anal opening.

"Varr will not wait. Varr will take his turn NOW. Open up that ass for me, Ninevari whore! You will know two orc cocks at once and be grateful," he growled.

The girl's startled cry now sailed into the air. Meanwhile, Krekthor the Cruel had rushed forward to kneel by the recently spent husband. He grabbed the husband's now flaccid shaft and lifted it to its full extent while brandishing a knife from his belt.

"Hark now, my brothers. Let the bidding begin. Who wants to take the first man-trophy? Who wants to bring this fine set of cock and testicles back to their mate as a delicacy to prove their devotion?"

The orcs began shouting, clamoring to take the first of the spoils. Only Krekthor's brutal bidding war kept the situation from deteriorating into an all-out brawl. It soon became clear that as soon as the bidding was complete, the knife which Krekthor had poised beside the poor husband's helpless manhood would likely lunge forward with a stroke of savage and obscene finality.

"Enough," Garam said, feeling a little bit uneasy by the carnage which seemed certain to follow. "We have no more time to tarry here. We have a conquest to complete."

Tersiar nodded, dragging the Archbishop behind him - the cleric's face white as a sheet after all he'd witnessed.

'I have a conquest to complete AND a wizard to find,' Garam thought wryly as he led Tersiar and the Archbishop toward the inner fortress of King Cuthbert, lord of the Ninevari.

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To Be Continued...