***
When the other pack members did return, one by one, or really couple by couple, the girls were all smiling happily, and the males were all dressed in leather armor in the same red with gray colors as Bashuk's. Moiga and Durgat were the last to return, and once they had, it was close to dinner time, which meant the males had to head for the victory celebrations. When she followed Bashuk into the private hallway not much later, a light murmur could be heard coming from the direction of the great hall balcony. They left the private chambers behind, and then the quarters in general, with her trying to evade curious looks, and the males assisting with that, as they had done before.
Their protectiveness really made her feel like a prize, and a valued member of the pack, instead of just a slave. Bashuk took the grand stairs down to the second floor, and then further down to the first floor. There wasn't much activity, neither human nor orc, but once they were heading down the hallway leading to the great hall the murmuring became audible once more, and with it Cassandra's anxiety rose. They made the last turn towards the great hall, and the hallway tripled in width. The three sets of huge doors leading into the great hall were closed, and guarded by an armed and armored warrior pack wearing the same colors as Bashuk and his males.
As they got nearer two of the guards opened the central, and largest, set of doors for their leader. As they did the soft murmur turned into the loud noise produced by hundreds of people talking. The first thing Cassandra noticed was that the main podium at the other end of the hall was largely blocked from view by the wooden construction erected at its center. The second thing she noticed were the two rows of beds lining both sides of the runner, foot ends against headboards, and the two rows of naked women displayed on top of those beds. They were all on their knees and elbows, two per bed, and facing the runner. Behind the beds, on both sides, were the tables, and the numerous orc warriors sitting at these tables.
The noise dwindled after they entered, and the runner felt soft beneath her bare feet as she kept position to Bashuk's left. The former noble women, now whores, all had their hair cut to shoulder length, a leather collar around their necks, and a reddish looking brand decorating the outside of their right upper thigh. Some of the familiar faces, mainly the younger ones, were wet, but most only looked humiliated. None of them looked up as the pack passed by, their eyes seemingly fixed on the wooden jars positioned between their hands on top the bed. Cassandra felt herself blush, she was well familiar with that kind of jar... The jars were still closed though, and the whores didn't seem to have been used yet.
Behind the beds, and the whores, were the open ends of the u-shapes in which the tables had been arranged, with five to each side of the runner by the looks of it. Inside each u there was a low circular podium some ten feet across, and also inside were the prizes, kneeling in the position of the pleasure slave, and facing the podiums. The prizes were positioned just in front of the tables, with their backs towards them, and towards the warriors of the packs they belonged to, who were sitting on benches at the other side of the tables. Unlike the whores they wore leg warmers, just like she herself did, but theirs were being held up by thin straps connected to a narrow belt around their waists it seemed.
When they got near the central podium Bashuk didn't ascend the low stairs leading up to it but steered to the right instead. They left the runner, and the flagstones the hall was paved with felt cold beneath her bare feet. She remembered kneeling down on them, naked, and presenting herself for her first fucking, was that just a day ago? The central podium was some nine yards across, and the podium on top of it about two-thirds of that. They followed its outline, which brought them back to the runner. The main podium came into view entirely now, there were nine tables on top of it, and only the central one was still unoccupied.
Of the other eight tables six had a prize in front of them, kneeling in the position of the pleasure slave, facing the hall, as she would soon be too she realized. The main podium had been extended forward to the left and right of the stairs leading up to it, and on top of each extension there was a circular podium with roughly the same dimensions as those positioned inside the u-shaped table patterns. As they got close to the last of those u-shaped patterns before the main podium her eyes got caught by a red head of hair. Driara! The girl was looking down at the floor like a good pleasure slave, but behind her back Cassandra's eyes met the smiling face of Urgan, her master. Was he looking at her?
Closer by one of the whores glanced up, and smiled at her too. It was Leanora, the second wife of count Bushnell. Cassandra's eyes went to Maryam, Leanora's stepdaughter, in a reflex. She was one of the six prizes on the now nearby main podium, and she seemed happy, which explained Leanora's happy face. As she looked back towards Leanora her eyes caught on another familiar face, that of Welda Declos, Driara's stepmother, who was looking back at her from the stocks in a rather unfriendly way.
What a contrast,
she thought,
in the caring for a step-daughter.
As Bashuk started ascending the stairs leading up to the main podium she realized Driara had a good view of her former step-mother.
How fitting,
she thought, and smiled softly.
As they reached the top Bashuk looked back at her and pointed at the small rug she was supposed to kneel on. "Don't forget to remove your cardigan," he whispered. She nodded, and then she turned away from him to kneel down. The males passed on both sides of her to take place on the benches, while Bashuk would now be sitting himself down on the throne behind the opposite end of the table. She opened up the cardigan, let it slip down her shoulders, and folded it into a neat package before putting it down on the thick carpet behind her. She then spread wide, and arched her back, bringing her chest out, and presenting herself to the hundreds of orc males in front of her.
She felt utterly humiliated once more, and worried about seven of those males coming forward and claiming her for the duration of the celebrations. She glanced at one of the nearby podiums, and noticed there were familiar looking jars on top of it. Her sphincter clenched, and she looked down at the floor in front of her like a good pleasure slave. She was regretting Bashuk hadn't 'properly broken in' her guest-hole yet, tried to think of other things, and studied the small rug she was kneeling down on. It was about four feet by two, and its thickness, combined with that of the carpet below it, made for comfortable kneeling.
The small rug was also in the same red color and material as the main carpet it was placed on, except for a small rectangle about a foot square at its center. The rectangle was cream colored, the same color as the canvas on top of the podiums, and it also seemed to be made out of another material, something easier to clean than a thick woolen carpet. Cassandra felt herself blush as she realized the reason behind the choice of color, and material.
***
Her musings got cut short by Bashuk's loud voice, as he addressed the gathered orcs. He welcomed everyone, and then he spoke about the tribe's reasons for coming to Nigawa, making her feel ashamed. Next he spoke about the difficult crossing of the Leviathans, and the many sacrifices defeating the Nigawan army had demanded of them. He then warned them that it would still take a lot of diplomacy and patience for them to merge with Nigawa's human population as planned, and how they would have to build good will first, before they could, literally, harvest what they had sown. He ended with wishing them all a good celebration, and a lot of fun with the females of the defeated.
With that the festivities started, with female servants appearing from the servant's entrances to serve food and drink, and with orc males lining up behind the whores. She heard the tinkling of tableware behind her, indicating that food and drink was being served at the table behind her too. Soon she also smelled it, and a hungry feeling resulted. With that feeling came the desire to sit on Bashuk's lap and share his food. In the meantime the hall had filled with laughter, with moaning, and with lustful screaming. There was also screaming of a less lustful nature, originating from the nearby stocks to her left and right.
It had pleased her that there were only two women occupying the half dozen stocks available. One was Driara's stepmother, and the other one was Isadora Vaton, the haughty and overbearing wife of Burgon Vaton. Both bent-over women were screaming in agony as they were taken rather brutally. Especially in the case of Driara's stepmother she couldn't have cared less. The other whores were, to her relief, another matter entirely. They were getting fucked roughly, just like Bashuk had said they would be, but the orcs mounting them clearly weren't trying to hurt them, the opposite being more the case. Some of the whores, the same ones that had shown wet faces before, were now trying not to show the pleasure they were experiencing, but most of them weren't hiding anything, or not anymore at least.
She remembered Bashuk explaining that the whores had all been tasked with pleasuring an entire warrior pack last night. As far as she knew there hadn't been any virgins among them, so these at least fairly sexually experienced noble-women had all ended up with up to seven big-cocked, and probably severely pussy-starved orcs fucking them all night long. Add to that the knowledge that their old lives were effectively over, and that this was probably the only pleasure they were going to have for the rest of their lives, and it became clear why Leanora's face, for instance, was currently contorted by lust, and why her back was arching invitingly, while the big orc warrior behind her plowed her aristocratic cunt.
As she watched Leanora she also remembered Bashuk mentioning that the whores were going to be bred. She instantly wondered how many of them had been knocked up last night already, and how many more were going to get knocked up during this evening's victory celebrations. It was an accepted consequence of going to war, and it added an additional dimension to the scene in front of her. These women weren't just forced to surrender their cunts and asses, they were forced to surrender their fertile bellies too, to the males that had bettered their own. The big orc fucking Leanora rammed home, his back arched, and then he bellowed, as he pumped his semen deep inside of her.
Leanora's blonde head came up when he did, and she arched too as she came in turn. Bashuk's prize knew how it felt, to have your fertile belly pumped full with potent orc semen, while korkumun tea wasn't on the menu. Her mind still balked at the prospect, but her pussy got wet nevertheless, and she moaned softly. It was a most primitive instinct, this subconscious urge to be bred by the most powerful male available. Her mind filled with images of Bashuk's impressive physique, and another soft moan escaped her. "Girl?" It took a moment to register that her master was calling her, and as she looked back over her shoulder he was smiling at her.
