Have mercy on me, this is my first story of any kind, let alone first posting on Literotica. I am only now really developing an interest in various Fantasy topics and Worlds as I spent my youth as a Jock and adulthood as a Marine. I hope you enjoy this story and I hope to progressively improve as the parts add up. Also, I have started a story in mind about a hostile take-over and uniting of the various gangs and factions that comprise the Los Angeles underworld. Glad to hear any constructive thoughts and willing to implement suggestions, if you find it worth your time. Thank you! Enjoy!
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The man awoke to soft sunshine on his face. He was lying amidst a bed of soft green grass, in the middle of a small meadow. As the man rose to his feet he realized that he had absolutely no memory of how he came to be at that place, nor memory of anything at all before waking in that field moments before.
His name was Michael, that much he knew, though he had no idea how. Michael knew he was a Warrior of some kind. Even if he hadn't inherently known as much, his outfit was obviously a dead giveaway. Yet, somehow, any observer would tell you that the title of "Warrior" seemed wholly inadequate.
He had a face that was somehow hard and soft, kind and firm as well as exotic and aristocratic all at the same time. His alert eyes shined with an unnatural glow from their stunning Emerald irises. His black hair shined with a hint of blue any time the sun passed through it. His unblemished skin lit with a vital glow under his golden complexion, intense, direct sunlight causing a near imperceptible sparkle. His body naturally hairless below the neck, he kept his face shaved cleanly.
His full body suit of scale armor clung to his body like a second skin, allowing uninhibited range of motion, the overlapping metal scales allowing flexibility as well as guaranteeing the any incoming blow from an enemy would be met with multiple layers of metal.
The beautiful summer morning was rich with the sounds of happy birds and the smell of fragrant blooms as Michael made his way through the countryside, eventually finding a wagon path lined with ripe fruit trees. He carried on along the path at a pleasant walking pace until midday, at which point he sat under a nice pomegranate tree to enjoy the ripe fruit along with some peaches he had picked from trees along the way.
The fact that the trees were still heavy with ripe fruit this late in the season was yet another indicator that this fertile valley had long since been abandoned by men. Michael
sat, simply enjoying the songs of the birds, the soft sunshine and cool breeze as he considered his options and his unusual situation.
Before he was able to reach any sort of consensus, Michael heard the soft whisper of leather coming from the long green grass at his back. Since he doubted an innocent traveler would try to sneak up on him and he didn't think any of the local animals wore thick leather and approached men, he expected some sort of attack to come from the direction his back was currently facing.
When the hidden enemy did burst forth, Michael was ready, and before the attacker could process what was happening they were pinned on their back with a long blade to their neck.
It's an Orc, thought Michael. A female. A damned good looking female at that. He looked down below the fearful eyes and saw huge tits covered only by a leather band that barely concealed her nipples, and a fur loincloth wrapped around her hips. He slowly lowered the blade of his Falcata from her throat and asked, "What are you doing attacking me?"
"Slave" she said.
"You want to take me as a slave?"
She nodded. "But now I am your slave. I challenged you and lost. Me and all that I have belongs to you. It is Orc law."
"I hardly think I defeated you. I simply reacted more with quickness and surprised you. So do not feel that you are beholden to me. In fact, you are free to go."
The She-Orc looked puzzled for a moment before slowly rising to strong sandaled her feet. "I...free?", she asked.
"Yes, free." answered Michael.
The She-Orc grinned, her beautiful emerald green skin a contrast to her sharp white teeth, her vestigial tusks barely poking up above her lower lip.
"If I am now again free, then I am free to capture you. You will no surprise Talasa this time. I drag you back to Orc camp. You make good slave. Fetch good price or maybe I keep you. Human slaves are very prestigious. They say you're small pink cocks are no good for sex, but very pretty, you are, so I may try you once but Talasa need big cocks for pleasure-not puny pink worm. Come here pretty boy, no more playing around." said Talasa as she advanced to lunge forward.
Michael laughed and snatched her ankle off the ground, flipping her and dropping her on her back. He then stepped back and allowed her to get up, only to drop her again the next time she charged with a sweep of his foot. Again and again Talasa charged forward only to be dropped to the ground, thrown or flipped, her anger and pride quickly turning to lust and respect for his skill and strength, more so with each round. After several rounds Michael even allowed Talasa to close with him and assume a wrestling stance. He simply smiled as they locked arms and she tried to roll him.
Talasa, for her part, couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. The man was like a solid stone statue chiseled from an enormous underground boulder. In fact, with the amount of force she was bracing from her legs and back and pushing out through her arms, she would have been able break a statue carved from an underground boulder, she was sure of it. Yet, he was not moving at all, there was no give. Worse, he was no starting to push back. As she tried to fight his strength she realized that he was still not breathing hard and she could feel his heartbeat through the holds her hands had on his upper arms. It was not even slightly elevated. She was wet. When did that happen, she thought. About the time I ended up on my back gazing up at that impossibly beautiful face with a snout full of a scent that was literally heavenly.
