Orc 3 - Happily ever morning after?
Misty's subconscious took pity on her and she awoke slowly, only gradually perceiving her surroundings and situation. Her body felt suspended, drifting in thick, deep furs. Her breaths were long and slow, relaxed. Out-side a breeze sighed through the trees, whispering forgotten secrets. The smell of cooking meat wafted past her nostrils and her mouth watered in unconscious anticipation.
The voluptuously rounded peasant girl smiled dreamily; it must be a lazy sunday morning. Downstairs her strict but generous father was cooking a hearty breakfast for the family and outside her mother was putting up the laundry. Misty wondered what she should do today. She would probably try and find Kentin, the boy that she liked, and tempt him away from his studies. He was the cleric's son, all proper and repressed, but always delighted to see her. She remembered the time when she had gotten him so worked up with teases and touches that he had finally kissed her, eager and excited! Of course the guilt quickly overtook him and after that he had avoided her for over a month, eventually breaking the silence by apologizing for 'taking advantage of a maiden.'
Misty was far from a maiden though. She had learnt the power sex had over boys quickly, seeing the lust in their eyes as they stared at her plump curves, knowing that they wanted her. She had fallen in with the 'wrong crowd' a group of older girls who had regaled Misty with stories of their sexual misendeavors and taught her a number of tricks. She soon learned that she could gain any number of favours and trinkets through sex, maybe bringing a stud to his pleasure with her hand whilst he slurped on her nipples or even letting ones she fancied partake in the ecstasy that her more intimate treasures offered.
Misty was certainly not a virgin long before the orc.
It sometimes made Misty miserable to think how often fucking was just about power, how willful people could be easily manipulated through their desire for a fleeting pleasure. A guilty power then, but one Misty knew she would be worse off without. Unfortunately the power games could work both ways; her employer, the master of the mill, often blackmailed the girls under him, taking what he wanted through fear of job loss and disgrace. Once a particularly selfish boy had taken her against her will; as soon as the rest of the lads found out though he was beaten so bloody that he was bed ridden in the infirmary for almost a whole season and never could walk right ever since. After that neither Misty nor the other girls had any serious problems from the local boys.
Her eyes fluttered and, becoming aware of a dull ache throughout her body, shifted wrapping herself further into the thick blankets. It dawned on Misty that her bed had never been this deep and comfortable and with that uncertainty, her memories of the previous day and night began filtering back to her. She remembered having to dodge her boss' unwanted advances by lying that she was on her period; disgusted by her he had instead set her the most unsavoury tasks the mill had to offer. Misty had left work angry and frustrated at the unfairness of her situation and headed straight to her favourite place at the meadow of bloody tears where leaves and flowers bloomed perpetually red. Her intention had been to stave off her misery with the healing power of fantasy and orgasm by visualising obscenely virile barbarians.
To her dismay though, her session of secret masturbation had been unexpectedly interrupted. Misty's ultimate fantasy had manifested himself, in the form of an orc, to take and ravage her... Dismay turned to surprise, then to fear and finally to rapture as Misty consented to her irrational desires and shared the most world rocking sex that she had ever experienced with a man who could have been easily described as a monster.
Guilt and shame, but ultimately satisfaction then.
However, the satisfaction had come with a physical cost at least and the randy peasant girl realised drowsily that she ached almost all over. Her wrists and bottom were bruised by his over-firm handling, most of her more private anatomy stung and throbbed where the orc's acidic sweat had tantalised and burned her flesh and her vagina still felt exhausted from the rough, delightful abuse it had suffered.
Misty opened her heavy eyes and was grateful that she was still in the orc's cave-like dwelling so that little direct sunlight could offend her tired senses. Little had changed within the abode; animal furs swung lazily from the ceiling caught by a draught, potions and pickled items sat stacked against a wall alongside salted meats and preserved fruits. The fire had burned out completely overnight. From the corner of her eye she saw movement; A flash of intensely defined brown-green leg and thigh as someone quietly slipped out of the cave. Had the orc been watching her? She didn't know whether to feel protected or violated.
The bruised girl tried to sit up, but her muscles protested fiercely so she slumped back down into the bed. The knotted tension in her body from the sexual overloads she had been taken through had left her worryingly weak. A sense of fear settled in her gut; she still didn't know what motive the beast man had, if any. Was he finished with her or did he intend to fuck her again and if he did where would it end? She didn't honestly think she could take any more in her current state. Misty wondered what she should do; then more disturbingly what could she actually do?
Misty propped herself up enough to look for a weapon, anything with which to defend herself. She knew she wouldn't be able to best the brute physically, but if she could surprise him... she could crawl away pathetically until he caught up to her again and really hurt her. No. Misty tiredly realised that if she did get the drop on the orc, she would have to kill him. Ultimately it was him or her. Orcs were savage, vicious creatures that held no place in the civilised Kingdoms.
The orc entered his makeshift home with a wooden tray holding two clay cups and a pot which contained something that smelt like tea.
And of course he was completely naked. The orc was all lean muscle, every inch of him was pure physical purpose. His chest was broad and masculine but not obscenely so like a circus strong-man and his mottled green/brown skin clung to the orc tightly. His steps were sure and smooth, his feet seeming to be a part of the ground upon which they moved. His penis and balls hung heavily, barely swinging due to their weight. Misty's eyes went from the orc's flaccid but nonetheless sizable manhood to his face which held an expression she could not quickly identify.
He kneeled down by the makeshift bed and placed the tray down carefully, then moved back to a kneeling position. The orc looked at her again and opened his mouth as if to speak, but then frowned with frustration and shut it again. With no small bemusement Misty realised that he wanted to communicate with her.
Reserving better judgement the peasant girl sat up, holding a large fur to herself to conceal her nudity, put her other hand onto the brute's knee and asked, "What is it?"
The orc cocked an eyebrow at her, made as to speak again, but thought better of it and looked away. Instead he picked up the teapot and began to pour steaming turquoise tinged liquid into both of the cups. The teapot was only of modest size, enough to fill three or four cups and looked quite small and dainty in his massive hands. The sight of this great man-beast delicately pouring her tea struck Misty as so absurd that a loud unladylike laugh escaped from her lips before she could stop it. The laugh jolted the orc causing him to spill some of the tea onto the tray. He gave her an embarrassed toothy grin and Misty allowed herself a shy giggle in return. It was a surprisingly innocent moment and the girl grudgingly filed the moment under 'reasons not to kill the orc'.
Regaining composure, he knelt down setting the tray beside them and offered a cup to her. Misty took it and raised the brew to her nose and inhaled carefully to test whether it was poisoned or drugged; the herbal tea only smelt thick and oddly rich though and Misty was instantly tantalised. Ignoring her caution, the orc took the other cup and in one swift motion, upended it's contents down his throat before smacking his lips in satisfaction. Sensing no foul-play and disarmed by his earnest enjoyment the girl pressed her own cup to her lips and took a small sip. The drink had a sharp taste at first but Misty could tell it was thickly honeyed giving it a smooth, warm aftertaste. She liked it.
"It's good," Misty smiled to give meaning to the words.
The orc nodded happily and poured himself another cup to share with her properly. They drank together quietly, both watching each other and trying to discern, without success, what the other was thinking.
After a while, the orc put down his cup and said a single word, "Stay."
At first, Misty thought he had just uttered an oddly familiar orcish word and her brows knitted, but seeing her expression he repeated, "Stay."
It was a request, and as she had not yet made to leave Misty realised 'staying' would involve more than just one last fuck, the beast was propositioning her. At that moment, though, the girl was too busy being mortified.