Gwennalyns Sexual Awakening Ch 12

As always, a great big thank you to EmmaKendrick01 for sharing her thoughts on the chapter!

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The sun hung high in the afternoon sky, beating down on Gwennalyn and Cocoa, the former perched atop the latter, setting him to an easy stride along the corral.

It was the end of her first week with the orcs.

Without the specter of her impending marriage, the actual presence of her husband-to-be, and the boring politics of the capital's court, her spirits were high, helped along by the fact that she was constantly around orcs who would gladly rut her into a blissful stupor. Such easy access meant that she was always in one of three states: fresh off a fucking, taking a fucking, or imagining the next fucking, which thankfully was usually never too far away. Interspersed with these times of submission were the moments spent entangled with her handmaiden and those spent masturbating to the memory of any given fucking.

The bloodclove tea that Deiara had brewed earlier in the week had proven to be very potent, enough so that a daily dose was not needed.

There had been another herbal recipe she had learned from Baltar that had also proven useful.

"He told me that old orcs use it," the handmaiden had told her, holding out a small bowl filled with a fragrant lotion.

The princess had taken the offering, trusting but still sniffing curiously.

"Orcs heal well," Deiara had continued, "better than we do. But when they get older, it takes longer, so the older orcs, when they exert themselves too much, they use elder salve to speed up the healing process. It rejuvenates the muscles and soothes the flesh. Baltar thought it would come in handy for after your escapades."

Both women had been left sore from the previous day's events.

But soon after Deiara had applied the salve, first to the princess and then herself, they had felt the effects, the lotion helping their aches dissipate and their bruises fade. Elder salve had made her current life of constant submission easier, as orcs could ravage her enthusiastically, and she could the next day repeat the same routine with minimal residual soreness. The handmaiden had tried to explain the herbs that went into the recipe, but for the princess, such details were unimportant so long as it worked.

Cocoa huffed underneath her. Leaning forward, she ran a hand down his mane, cooing softly.

It had become a daily habit to come to the stables. If it was not to ride around the city with Nefera, who had overseen most of her cultural education for the past few days, it was for a leisurely stroll around the corral. Whichever it was, the horse was always amiable, reminding her of Zephyr back home.

I hope someone's taking good care of him.

Over at the fence surrounding the corral stood Fulg.

Part of this daily habit involved teasing him. His reaction to her shameless overtures was always awkward embarrassment, which in turn always made her giggle. The fact that he had not yet taken her up on the offers of letting him ride her like a broodmare in heat was slightly confusing and only somewhat disappointing.

We have plenty of time for that.

Walking up to Fulg now were two older orcs.

One was dressed plainly, but the other was immediately familiar from his wardrobe.

Gwennalyn had quickly learned that aside from ceremonial events and international affairs, these orcs preferred simple garments, in both color and design.

But Alikil, the Chief Priest, distinguished himself with his bright outfits, his robes always a garish purple.

The two orcs chose horses, and as they climbed on, she set Cocoa to trot over.

"Greetings, Princess," Alikil called to her.

"Greetings, Chief Priest."

Fulg opened the gate. She smiled down at the young orc, nodding her thanks as she led Cocoa out.

"So, what shall I learn today?" she asked Alikil as the trio headed away from the stables.

"I shall bring you to the Temple of the Gods," he said solemnly, "where you will learn about those who we worship."

They set off into the city proper, the attendant staying slightly behind them.

Much like Alikil stood out for his ostentatious garb, the Temple of the Gods stood out for its imposing profile, relative size to its surroundings, and the swirls of colors arrayed all over the outside. Red mingled with brown, green with black, white with purple, silver with blue, among other combinations, the whorls starting low to the ground and reaching high up to the tops of the four towers that stood one at each corner of the structure.

The trio dismounted just in front of the temple, three attendants hurrying over to take the horses from them.

"These are novices," he told Gwennalyn, gesturing to them, "they are in the process of dedicating their lives to worshipping the gods and helping others do the same."

The novices bowed their heads, before leading the horses away.

A set of stairs took them down to a small plaza area before the entrance proper.

Once inside, she saw just how high the vaulted ceilings rose, the same colors on the outside adorning them as well. There were rows and rows of benches, leading down to a raised dais which seemed to her right now to be very far away.

"Here, princess," Alikil called.

He was standing by a statue of a female orc. Her physical assets were impressive, a rippling musculature that blended in with a generous voluptuousness. In her left hand was a carpentry hammer, in her right a tightly bound scroll.

"Do you know who this is?"

She shook her head.

"This is Irezis. Perhaps you have heard her name."

She nodded. A small smile that appeared on the Chief Priest's face.

"She is our Mother Goddess. The goddess of creation, education, intimacy, fertility, and most relevant to you, sexuality."

"And this," he continued, leading her across to the other wall, "is Kulzis."

This statue was of a tall, broad orc, his countenance stern and stoic, a battle-axe in his left hand and a small scale in his right.

"He is our Father God. The god of combat and challenge."

Alikil led her past the statues, along the benches, until they came to a grotto hidden in the wall. The inside was low-ceilinged and dim, with one table on the other side, several small colorful pots on top of it. A strong incense burned, making her nose twitch.

A female orc dressed in robes of rich brown stood in front of the table.

"This is Kishari," Alikil said, "a priestess of Irezis."

Kishari nodded at the princess, smiling warmly.

"Greetings, Princess."

"Hello, Kishari."

From another entrance to the left, five more orcs entered the grotto, each one wearing a different-colored robe, one of them brown like Kishari's. They took up position behind the table, reaching for the pot that matched the hue of their outfit.

"When the world was in its infancy," Kishari began theatrically, each orc throwing a handful of whatever was in their pot into the air, "the gods reigned."

The contents of the pots swirled in the air, forming a rough outline of the maps Gwennalyn had seen of the lands of the world, the edges blurry, still in the process of forming an accurate representation.

"Each ruled their own domain. Nakgoro of the waters, Tarias of the earth, Malhaz of the night, among many others."

The orcs wearing silver, green, and black threw more pot-soot into the air, colors forming into shapes: churning waves of water, tall leafy trees rising above grassy plains, twilight obscuring a setting sun.

"The two most powerful of these gods were Irezis and Kulzis."

The other two tossed handfuls of pot-soot into the air. From the one in brown robes came a curvaceous figure, while the other in red conjured up a hulking stature.

"They were locked in an eternal cycle of struggle."

More of the colorful ash was thrown into the air, forming three smaller figures, strange-looking creatures of a sort Gwennalyn had never seen before.

"Irezis, as a goddess of creation, would create, seeking to fill the world with her children, hoping that they would populate it once the gods' time was over.

Another burst of soot overwhelmed the three figures, bolts of lightning combining with a tumultuous earthquake to turn the trio back into unremarkable ash.

"Kulzis would challenge her creations, adamant that those who would inherit this world prove themselves worthy. Every time she created a new race, he would test them, and each one would fail, unable to stand against his might."

The next handful of ash showed the previous image of the female orc, this time watching resignedly as more species were eradicated, the smoke representations fading quickly to leave only her.

"It was an eternal struggle that vexed Irezis. So, she devised a plan."

Next to the female smoke-orc appeared the male.

"She went to Kulzis, and challenged him to create a race with her, one that could withstand his might and prove worthy of the mantle of this world. The god of challenge could not resist such a challenge."

More ashes were added to the mix in the air, the tableau now showing the female atop the male, the smoke roiling to simulate the duo moving sensuously.

"But Irezis had more than just that in mind. She made sure to lay with him again and again, using her wiles as a goddess of sexuality to overwhelm even the god of combat, their mating leaving him exhausted and falling into slumber. Once he was asleep, she stole away, taking his seed with her."

The scene changed to the female by herself, looking around furtively, now with a swollen belly.

"She hid herself away with the help of the other gods. But during this period of self-imposed exile, she took it upon herself to impart all her knowledge upon her newest children, teaching them what they would need to survive."

Again, the scene changed, this time to the female surrounded by smaller figures, each one looking intently towards her.

"These children learned much from her, and when the time finally came, she revealed herself and them to Kulzis."

The male now reappeared, looming above the gathered smaller figures, the female off to the side. The same lightning bolts and earthquake from before wreaked havoc again, but where the earlier races had been turned back to ash, these figures stood strong against the onslaught.

"Kulzis challenged them, but no matter what he did, they survived, and thrived, proving themselves worthy."

The two gods disappeared, and the smaller figures began to multiply.

"Thus, he allowed his children to inherit the world."

The scene ended, the ash floating in the air, highlighted amid the white smoke from the incense.

"That is how we orcs came into being."

Alikil came up around her, nodding at Kishari and the other orcs.

"We orcs understand the importance of sexuality and unlike humans, are not scandalized by what some would call lewd displays. Of course, it depends on the orc in question, but there has been much more acceptance and bemusement regarding your behavior here than disgust or dismay, wouldn't you agree? Our Mother Goddess was a creature of pure desire, so why would we begrudge you your escapades?"

She nodded, the images of the ash show still in mind.

"This dynamic between our Mother and Father also influences our culture. It is the mother who educates and trains when the child is young, for the father to later challenge and test when the child is older. The other gods who assisted Irezis are as like the family that gathers around a child."

The other orcs were now quietly exiting the grotto, leaving her alone with the Chief Priest.

"Why are there different colors?" she asked. "The robes, the ash, and the ones on the Temple?"

He nodded, obviously pleased that she had asked the question.

"Each god has a color associated with them and their domain. Irezis is brown, Kulzis is red, Nakgoro is silver, and so on. My robes are purple because I am the Chief Priest."

Next, he brought her out into the Temple proper, showing her around the vast space.

"It can accommodate several hundred orcs. On days of great religious importance, the populace will gather here and at other, smaller temples. We come together to worship and honor our gods, thanking those who created us and helped us thrive in this world."

Religion had only ever been a source of boredom for the princess. The priests of the Free Lands took every opportunity to drone on and on, and so she took every opportunity to avoid being in such situations where she might have to listen. It was difficult, since as a member of the royal family, her presence was required at the many events and gatherings throughout the year. She would often find herself sitting in the foremost row, doing her best to stay awake, the words often dull and dry, the speaker often unable to hold her attention. Even the more charismatic of the priests only irked her with speeches about adhering to the will of the gods lest one be cast into the fiery chasm of the underworld.

We don't have a goddess of sexuality. That might make me pay attention.

"Come," Alikil beckoned, "and I will tell you about the other gods in our pantheon."

Cocoa trotted back into the stable area, the princess stroking his mane affectionately. Behind her, the Chief Priest's attendant was already dismounting, a stable hand taking the reins from him.

After teaching her about the various gods that the orc worshipped, Alikil had taken her on a tour of the rest of the temple, from the subterranean alcove where the priests and priestesses congregated for daily prayers, to the tops of each of the four towers, where heavy bells waited, used on special days to call the orcs of the city to worship.

The tour had been interesting and enlightening, granting her a different look at the culture of these orcs, much like what she had learned earlier in the week from Nefera.

Fulg was waiting by the stables as she led Cocoa over.

"'ello, princess," he said politely, eyeing her warily.

"Hello, Fulg," she replied, dismounting gracefully and handing him the reins.

"D'you enjoy your tour w'the Chief Priest?"

"Yes, it was most illuminating. And Cocoa enjoyed the ride through the city. I dare say he has had enough riding for a little while."

Fulg shifted awkwardly.

"I on the other hand, have barely had any today," she declared with a saucy pout, "and am looking for an orc to mount and ride me hard."

The young orc gulped audibly. Giggling inwardly at his bashfulness, she sidled up closer, her hand moving up to his chest, feeling the muscles underneath his loose tunic.

"Please, Fulg."

He tried to draw back from her but the fence he had been leaning on prevented him from getting far.

"Princess," he grumbled, "stop teasin' me."

She pouted again.

"But why?"

"B'cause we both know you don't actually want me t' fuck you."

It was her turn to draw back, arching an eyebrow in confusion and surprise.

"What makes you say that?"

"B'cause I'm not a prince, or a warrior, or a guard. I'm jus' a stable hand."

She pursed her lips and sighed dramatically.

"Are you an orc?"

He nodded confusedly.

"And do you have a big cock you can use to pound me absolutely senseless?"

After a moment's hesitation, he nodded again.

"That is all I require."

With that, she strode off towards the stables.

It was a few seconds later, when she glanced back over her shoulder, that she noticed that he was still leaning against the fence, a confused look still on his face.

"I was hoping to do this someplace more private," she called over, gesturing to the stables, "but if you would rather ravage me out here, I will not say no. It would certainly advertise my availability to the other stable hands."

He finally moved, walking after her, scratching his head in surprise and wonderment.

The back part of the stables was out of the way enough for her, empty but for bales of hay.

She sunk down to her knees, Fulg stopping short in front of her. His eyes grew wide as she leaned forward, rubbing her cheek against the crotch of his trousers.

"I'm sorry that I teased you so," came her pitiful whimper, "I should be punished for such impertinence."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Do with me whatever you wish," she continued, a bulge now growing against her cheek, "I deserve whatever you give me."

His hands moved to unfasten his trousers. She leaned back to peek at his face, enjoying the expression there, a steadily dawning desire mixed with confusion and wonderment.

Despite some fumbling, he managed to free himself. The bulge by then was straining hard against the confines of his trousers. It sprung out, stopping an inch from her face, the broad head aimed right between her eyes. Instinct made her recoil, but she quickly recovered, leveling her best attempt at a sultry gaze right at him.

"Please, Fulg," she implored him, "shove your cock down my throat. Treat it like a cunt. Punish it for the words that teased you."

A shudder ran through her.

She had quickly discovered that one of her favorite parts of submitting constantly to these orcs was the chance to put her whorish cravings into words. Begging for debauchery had been a constant with Brash and Brand, but the other orcs generally enjoyed hearing such lurid words from a princess of the Free Lands, the refined and graceful daughter of the king saying things that would drop him dead on the spot were he to hear them.

Of course, I don't always do it for them. I do so love begging.

Her musing was interrupted when Fulg took hold of her blonde braid, his length moving up in front of her open mouth, nudging against it.

With a push, the first few inches slid through, the young orc grunting from the way her tongue wriggled along the underside of his member. One of her hands slid down, working quickly at her trousers. As he gave another push, that hand managed to slip inside, teasing at her panties, finding the fabric already damp.

When he was almost halfway through her lips, he drew back carefully.

"Are you okay, princess?" he asked, a concerned look on his face.

She giggled, amused by the worry, leaning forward to rub her cheek against the tip of the shaft.

"I'd be better if you rutted my throat."

His eyes widened further, and she felt his meat twitch, but the concern was still there.

"Are you sure? I don' want t' hurt you."

She drew back to summon another seductive gaze, hoping to match what she had often seen Deiara unleash on an unsuspecting male.

"But it feels so much better when it hurts," came her shameless purr.

Even in her current state of depraved neediness, she could not help but grin at the way her words seemed to surprise and confound the young orc.

A second twitch of his meat clued her in to his flagging restraint.

"I've been taking orc cock in all my holes for a little while now," she assured him, "and my body is used to it. Trust me, Fulg, I am entirely yours to use however roughly you wish."

He grunted noncommittally, moving to line back up to her lips. With a light pressure from his hips, the head popped through, gracing her tongue with a musky flavor, more inches following, slowly sliding towards the back of her throat. Her hand began to work at her womanhood, caressing the folds as her mouth stretched around the invader.

Despite her desperate entreaties to treat her roughly, Fulg was still careful with his movements, one hand holding at her hair while the other guided the rest of his member straight through her lips. It was a cautious conquest, but it left her gagging nonetheless, the weight and girth more than enough to leave her light-headed when it finally jammed all the way down her throat, his balls flush against her chin. A low grunt came from the young orc, his eyes fixed on the kneeling princess.

With just as much consideration as the inward motion, he drew back, inch after inch of rigid green flesh reappearing. Her tongue clung to the underside of the shaft, ensuring that it was liberally smeared with gleaming saliva when it slid fully out.