dickgirl orc/centaur x female story
*****
Shae groaned weakly, her head swimming in a mire of pain and fatigue, her arm strained around the shoulders of a broad figure that held onto her, her feet limp as she was dragged, wet mud clinging to her feet as they trailed through the filth together, her tracks a single line beside the footprints of her companion.
Her mind was pained and on the edge of consciousness as she vainly tried to order her thought, coming slowly to. There had been a battle, she remembered, a brutal conflict between Elf and Orc, one that, she thought, they had been winning. She had been in the fray, in the thick of it, encouraging her lessers around her, a beacon of Elven beauty and ferocity, then one of her Sargents had let out a cry of fear, Shae had turned, and her world had gone black.
Weakly she tried to lift her head, groaning again, feeling every muscle ache as she tried to pour into them the effort of movement. She was being carried, she realised, held fast by someone, an arm around their shoulder, rescued, she realised, though it was undignified. A captain of her rank and standing? Being dragged back to their staging point like a hapless child? She would have to stand and walk, she had to be seen to be strong, if only to inspire the others.
"Mm... Let me... Let me walk..." she whispered, again trying to rally her spirit and body. The person carrying her slowed to a halt before, after a moment's hesitation, unceremoniously released Shae.
With a surprised gasp, as her muscles failed to catch her, she fell down into a heap on the ground, landing face down in the thick slick mud, filthy water filling her mouth as she struggled to roll herself onto her back, coughing as she spat out the mud, the taste foul and gritty on her sensitive tongue.
After an exerted effort she got a hand under herself, mud pressing between her fingers as she managed, just, to roll herself onto her back, gasping in shock as she opened one eye, the other plastered closed with the muck.
Her vision, which had blurred, began to clear as droplets of rain began to fall onto her skin, a welcome sensation, pleasant and clean contrasting to the coarseness of the dirt she felt across her face, in her mouth and matting her hair.
She looked up at the figure looming over her, past the rugged worn mismatched armour held together with leather straps, to the spread grinning face looking down at her, eyes red and teeth gleaming as rainwater trickled down the distinctly, green features.
She hadn't been rescued. She'd been captured.
"What? Can't walk? Stupid Elf." The Orc sneered, reaching down and coiling Shae's once lush, now mudstained, hair in her fist, drawing a loud cry from the Elf as she was wrenched to her feet, the pain shooting from her scalp down her spine.
Fear, pain, disbelief, she wanted to reach her hands up, to grab a hold of her attacker's hand, to twist and throw as her mentor had taught her so many years ago, the knowledge springing to her mind, but not her body, which once again sagged. So many lessons on self-defence wasted when she needed them most.
As the blackness once again closed in on her vision, agony and terror suppressing her conscious mind, one thought rang true, one lesson, drilled into every Elf. Never be caught by an Orc.
Her dreams were vibrant and horrific, remembering a battle sister, Lhana, who had been lost to the Orcs. Presumed dead, but no. Shae saw her in her own mind as clear as day, they had been harrying the Orc camp for weeks, disrupting their supplies, testing their defences, until finally, the assault at dawn had come. It had been a bloody affair, the Orcs fighting with a ferocity that easily matched the skill of the Elves, but they had ultimately been victorious. Shae remembered walking through the tents, recovering lost Elven treasures and counting the dead when she had come across her. In a tent, chained by heavy iron to a crude bed. Lhana. The battle sister she had trained with since they were children, brought up together, raised for war, the stronger of the two, Shae had always thought. She remembered the unseeing gaze of her eyes, a void, where once there had been passion and mirth, was nothing.
She had fought when they had saved her, screaming that she didn't want to be rescued, she wanted her owner, her Orc Mistress, to serve, to please, to worship. Shae had never seen a more broken Elf in all her days and to imagine it had been Lhana, her Lhana, so addicted to dark pleasures that, after mere days in the comforting companionship of her own kind she had fled, back towards the twisted offerings of her tormentors.
Did her fate await Shae? Or worse?
She inhaled sharply as shock lanced through her entire body, causing her to jerk in surprise, her eyes flying open as her body, soaked with icy water, arched in reflex.
Breathing hard, eyes wide like a startled animal she looked around, wild, noticing the Orc from before, standing before her, grinning with mirth as she held an empty bucket, dripping with the drops of what she had just thrown over the Elf.
Breathing hard through her nose Shae grit her teeth, her expression severe as she looked at her captor, trying to adopt a stern, dominant outlook, she was an Elf Captain, no lowly soldier, she was born of high blood and forged in the steel of many combats. She would not flinch before this fiend. Not show her weakness.
"Ha! Tenacity! I like it. You know, I figured you for a blonde. I thought the brown was just the mud. Shame, I like the blonde ones." The Orc grinned surveying the unbound Elf before her, splayed out on the floor, her crimson gaze admiring the Elf's slender form with its impressive curves, only vaguely visible under her intricate gold inlaid breastplate, "What is your name, Elf?"
Shae's eyes flickered around, taking in her surroundings. She was in a makeshift wooden box, three of the sides slotted to give her a view out, or more likely to give others a look in. Bizarrely it was larger than most Orc cells she had freed others from in the past, with an odd wooden box in the middle, like a table but with no chairs. She glanced down, running a gauntleted hand through the straw and hay that coated the ground before she let her eyes trail back up her Orc captor with her black hair tied up in a single matted knot behind her head, bejewelled with coloured glass and bone.
"Are you stupid? What is your name!" The Orc asked, louder, her knuckles tightening around the rim of the bucket she held as her eyes narrowed to slits, everything from her tone to her posture indicating what Shae would suffer should she continue to not answer her.
Shae thought fast, eyes flickering around, there would be opportunities to escape, but she had to keep her strength up, something a beating wouldn't help maintain, "Shae." She answered, simply, her voice hoarse, her skin chilled as her body dripped with water from her rude awakening.
