Murkuk woke before dawn the next morning lying on her side in her customary place at Master Gurgun's feet, every muscle and sinew in her body aching. Her memories of the previous day were fragmented, the emotions and sensations commingling. She had a confused recollection of the agony and tedium of the march, and of the titanic ecstacy of her use afterward; her clitoris swelled as the memories swirled vaporously in her mind, and without a thought she began fingering herself.
The camp was quiet but for the cacophonous snoring of the orcs; no one stirred. Murkuk sat up stiffly, painfully, and crawled to the trees beyond her Master's shelter and squatted in the dewy underbrush, driven by an insistent pressure in her bladder. As she urinated, her stomach rumbled hungrily. She rubbed her belly soothingly, moved her hand up and felt her ribs standing out, then her breasts still remarkably plump and the huge metal rings piercing her aerioles.
Her bladder empty, she began rooting through the dirt and weeds to assuage her hunger. She had gained considerable expertise over the last few months in digging up morsels of food, primarily edible roots and insects. Clawing into the loamy humus she was delighted to uncover a trio of fat white grubs, each as large as her thumb. They squirmed fitfully as she shoved them into her mouth and chewed. The swollen bodies burst, filling her mouth with the juicy innards like a blast of semen. She munched heartily, gulping at the bitter fluids, then spat out the pulpy remains.
Already she was digging for more, determined to make the most of her few precious minutes. She scrambled after a cricket for several seconds, but it successfully eluded her. Frustrated, she turned her attention to the gnarled roots of a large oak tree, where she found a long pale earthworm. She captured it in her fingers and swallowed it down whole -- she had learned it was better not to chew a worm.
For another minute or two Murkuk scampering amid the undergrowth, devouring two more grubs and an earthworm, as well as the leaves of a small fern she had recently developed a taste for. She returned to Master Gurgun's lean-to feeling pleasantly full -- though in truth her abdomen looked no less concave than it had before her meal. She curled up wearily at her Master's feet, fingering her clitoris as she anticipated pleasuring him when he awoke. Within moments she drifted back to sleep.
Murkuk was awakened by a harsh kick in the stomach; she hurriedly got to her hands and knees, struggling to breathe. The sun was rising, and cunts were scurrying about the camp readying for departure. Murkuk realized with a sudden panic that she had slept much too late -- she had not pleasured her Master, had not fetched his breakfast, had not packed his belongings.
Master Gurgun was towering over her, already dressed in his bearskins and belt of heads. Murkuk whimpered with anxiety, expecting at the very least a strenuous punishment; perhaps, if Master Gurgun were angry enough, her own head would soon be dangling from his belt.
"Sleep over," Gurgun grunted. "Slave up. We go!"
He dropped his bundled belongings to the ground before her and turned to go. Murkuk did not waste a moment marveling at her owner's lack of ire; she leaped to her feet and hoisted the heavy pack onto her back, strapping it over her shoulders. Then she trotted after Master Gurgun, who was striding rapidly away.
The entire camp was bustling with unusual energy, the pets frantically preparing to leave. The orcs were in a state of excitement which typically preceded one of their raids. The pet Fugruj was harnessed to the orcs' big cart, already trudging forward laboriously. Murkuk slowed only a moment to savor the sight of the straining cunt, then rushed to catch up with her Master.
The orcs advanced for three hours, at a much faster pace than normal, and at midmorning they unexpectedly called a halt. The pets were herded together into a shallow cave, where they waited kneeling in silence while their owners conferred vociferously. After many minutes -- and several brief but violent scuffles -- most of the orcs departed, brandishing their stone axes. Only Master Gurgun was left behind to watch over the pets.
This was nothing new; Master Gurgun was usually the one chosen to remain behind when the orcs went on a raid. Murkuk was immediately aroused at the prospect of pleasuring her Master, and watched him eagerly as he turned back to the cave. He seemed especially irritated to have been left behind, his expression unpleasantly ferocious. He stalked toward the pets, but did not approach Murkuk. Instead he went straight to Kugkuh, one of Thrashall's cunts.
Kugkuh had been captured in the same raid as Murkuk, had been from the same village; they had known each other quite well. Her human name had been Heather or Hyacinth or something of the sort, Murkuk could not remember now. She had been a beautiful girl, slender and auburn-haired, two years younger than Murkuk. Several months in Master Thrashall's collar had left her in the same state as the other pets, but something of her beauty was nevertheless discernable beneath the grime and misery on her face.
Master Gurgun barked a command, and Kugkuh immediately offered herself on hands and knees. Gurgun positioned himself, while nearby pets edged as close as they dared to watch. Kugkuh's hearty groans echoed in the dank cave. Murkuk, frustrated and envious, began to stroke her clitoris avidly, craning her neck to watch. Most of the pets around her were doing the same, gasping and panting softly.
She reached a climax just as Kugkuh's cries rose to a breathless crescendo. Other pets began cumming as well, their moans echoing throughout the cave. But Master Gurgun of course had not finished; he repositioned Kugkuh and continued pummeling her hole, using her with as much vehemence as he had used Murkuk the evening before.
Murkuk's attention began to wander, though she did not stop fingering herself. The pets had not been watered or fed before the orcs had departed, and her throat was parched, her stomach growling. Beside her, a diminutive blonde pet whined miserably.
"Mikdur's hungry," whimpered the pet, one fist pressed to her belly. "Why'd the Masters leave so fast? Why'd we not get food?"
Mikdur's voice echoed loudly in the cave, and Murkuk attempted to shush her, but was prevented by the lack of her two front teeth. "Quiet!" she said. "Mathter Gurgun'll break Mikdur'th neck if she don't shut up."
"Mikdur's hungry," repeated the blonde sullenly, whispering.
Urgurr, one of Master Volgus's unfortunate sluts, leaned across from Murkuk's other side. She had lost her right eye to one of her Master's rages at some point in the last three weeks, and the empty socket had been raggedly sewn shut with threads of yellowy sinew. "The Masters went on a raid," she murmured, very quietly. "That's why they left so fast."
"Where we at?" asked Mikdur.
"Don't know," said Urgurr, shrugging. "But Urgurr heard Master say this's the biggest human city in a hundred miles. Even got a wall. Master said it's protected by a knight!"
"What if all our Masters are killed?" asked Mikdur, pitching her voice so low that Murkuk could barely hear her over the ceaseless moans around them. For an anxious moment Murkuk feared for her Master's safety, until she remembered that He was here in the cave with them.
"If the orcs are killed," mumbled Urgurr, "then the pets might be freed."
Murkuk's eyes widened.
Freedom!
She frowned. "Humanth wouldn't take uth back. Theyd jutht kill uth."
