Orc Dominion: Triumph

The bright sun bathed Augras in a delightful warmth as he rode down the beaten dirt path. The dawn of spring was finally shaking off winter's chill, making the campaign bearable for the first time for the Prince. The steady, almost melodic thrum of the marching army surrounded him, and only one thing prevented his mind from wandering off into a pleasant daze.

"Even if I accept that we're your distant ancestor, I still don't see why that means we can't train more wizards like my nephew." Grotok rumbling voice held a not so disguised annoyance. While pleased with Augras' abilities, the King would prefer to have a cadre of them under his own command instead of having to rely on his brother's willful son.

"It isn't your sight failing you, Your Highness, it is your mind which refuses to accept the answer given." Marishka replied.

"Long ago, ancient Mincenntti left the southern continent to embrace a life without magic. They believed, rightly as it turned out, that magic was causing their civilization to stagnate. They settled all through the world, and over time adapted to their new homes. Those in the plains became orcs, those in the more fertile grasslands humans, and in the mountainous jungle islands off the coast became elfs." Augras explained.

"Yes yes, so you've said. So if we're of the same blood why can't we all use their magic?"

"The same blood perhaps, but different hearts. Your blood is thin, weak. Only unifying the bloodlines will produce the strength for our spells." Marishka laughed as she saw Grotok bristle. "You do not like that, do you? You see Augras' blood as weak because it is not pure. Some of my kind believed the same of yours. It is of no matter, as the truth will tell. His magic works."

"Orc, human, and elf blood all mixed together. The union of all three races, I am." Augras smiled smugly to annoy his uncle.

"Your magic has proven useful in this war," Grotok admitted, "but what about after? What's to stop us stagnating the way the Mincenntti did?"

Augras didn't have a good answer to that, but Marishka did. "All my people had power in our blood. Do yours? No. You will not allow your blood to mix so freely." The Mincenntti woman barked a soft laugh. "Do you want to see this magic in the hands of your rivals? You will control how the blood mixes, and in doing so keep it strong."

He saw something queer in her smile, but quickly pushed it from his mind. Marishka always looked as if she was enjoying a private joke. "That is next year's problem, I'm more concerned with winning the war now. We'll soon be upon the Sandoran army and we don't yet have a plan to deal with them."

"Unless you have some spell to vanish their army it will take longer than a year to end this war. Even if we take Orlous there is still Megdis, and the enemy army in Heste." Grotok grumbled.

"We'll only take Orlous when Amelie is in our power, and once she falls Thesta goes with her. Without Thesta, Sandora won't be able to stand against us. As to the Sandorans..." Augras shared a look with Marishka, "...I know just what to do."

"And sooner than you might think." The Mincenntti woman extended her slender, bony arm towards the horizon.

Augras and Grotok turned, their heads whipping around as if expecting to see the Sandoran army descending upon them. After a moment, when no army appeared Grotok's belly rumbled with laughter. "You had me there for a moment, woman."

"It is not yet your time, King, but look again, and perhaps some of the scales blinding you will fall."

Grotok's laughter choked in his throat as a rider appeared in the distance. "Who is that?"

"An orc" Augras observed. "A sentry no doubt, coming to report on the movements of the enemy." He smiled in satisfaction, even as his heart began to race faster. He knew what he was going to have to do.

Magic comes with a price, and this spell is no different. It's not like I haven't killed before...

he had of course, though not like this.

"Your Highness!" The rider panted, out of breath. "The Sandorans! Camped one day ahead, holding the road."

"How many?" Grotok asked.

"Many thousands, Your Highness."

"More than us..." Marishka started.

"...But not for long." Augras finished for her.

"I hope you're right, nephew. Amelie is coming up hard behind us, and I do not want to get trapped between the two armies. The Princess-Knight has already annihilated our rear guard. I don't want to see what will happen if she gets behind us while we're fighting the Sandorans."

"Amelie will not arrive until this enemy is dealt with." Marishka confirmed. "My lord's victory is destiny."

"Even still, I think we should take precautions. Augras, have your Centaurs deploy behind us as a screening force. Harry and delay Amelie as long as possible to give us time to deal with the Thestans.

"Of course, Your Highness. At once."

So he means to use more of my troops as fodder, does he? Well, his time, or rather, my time will come soon enough.

****

"I knew you'd ask us in again!" Pierre groaned before kissing Amelie deeply while his hands slipped beneath her tunic to fondle her breasts. His rough fingers clamped around her nipples and squeezed, making her whimper into his mouth. "Every time you try to fight the 'curse' your body gives in."

Behind her, Jean was unlacing her pants and grinding his hard shaft into her backside. When she saw that Francois wasn't on guard duty she didn't give Pierre the signal that he needed her. Amelie hadn't wanted to sleep with someone new, to let another one of her soldiers see what had become of her.

But after the latest dream she lost control again. As Jean pulled her pants down to expose her tight ass the soldier pulled her hands back and held them together at the wrist. An unfamiliar twinge of panic flashed through her, and for a moment she felt as powerless as she had in the dream when all her attacks against Augras had failed.

"I should have known this is what you wanted, Your Highness," Jean murmured in her ear as he rubbed his hard cock up and down the crack of her ass, "I just wish I had learned it sooner. I could have been giving this to you years ago!" His tongue flicked out and ran along her ear, leaving a wet trail then sent a shudder down Amelie's spine, but not as much as the laughter in his voice did. "How come it took so long to bring me back to your tent for a proper shagging?"

It depressed her to know just how quickly she could fall from invincible commander to sex object in their eyes. Not just their present estimation of her either, but her past too. Her very history was being rewritten before her eyes as that of a lewd, sex-crazed woman.

Is that what they're going to think of me? That all these years living among them was just a way to be surrounded my men?

Any reply she might have made, any protestation that it was the magic was drowned by Pierre's kisses and her own whimpering squeals as he slapped and pinched her breasts. Next Pierre's hand traveled down her body to slide between her legs, rubbing the Queen's drenched pussy.

Amelie moaned in desire, even as her mind wandered back to her dream. She had faced Augras in combat, but every time she raised her weapon to strike she froze, and her body refused to move. Soon after she was pinned beneath him, bucking like a mare as she impaled herself on his cock. Yet no matter how hard she thrust or how fast she grinded into the half-orc she couldn't find release.

Now she was desperate for it, and finding it difficult. Even though Amelie eagerly humped into Pierre's hand and rode his fingers the tactile sensation was just not as rich as it had been. She still felt empty, and needed something more to give her the pleasure she sought.

Turning her head to break the kiss, she panted out, "Put it in me." Amelie moaned with frustration and humiliation at the admission, and perversely those feelings made her clit throb more than Pierre's fingers did.

"If you insist!" Jean snickered and spit on Amelie's ass. The soldier rubbed the spittle into her puckered rear, and just as she started to protest that she was talking to Pierre he pushed the tip of his shaft into her backside. "This is what you wanted, isn't it Your Highness?" With a guttural grunt, Jean pushed it deeper inside before starting to thrust it in and out of her ass in short, shallow strokes.

"Aaaah!" Amelie cried out as the cock pushed inside her, spreading her inner walls apart. Her body tensed in spite of itself as it sawed in and out, tunneling through the tight cavity. Before she even had a chance to adapt to the presence of the shaft inside her, Pierre lined his cock up with her slit and pushed into the hot velvety fold. Amelie groaned again as both cocks filled her insides, stretching her past where she thought she could be.

"O-oh Amelie!" Pierre grunted as he felt his Queen constrict her vaginal muscles around his cock. The tightness of her body, amplified by the girth of Jean's dick in her backside squeezed his shaft firmly. The tight sleeve milked his cock as he pushed it in and out, and threatened to draw out his seed before he was ready.

"Oh fuck this is good!" Jean groaned as he started to move his hips faster, thrusting in and out of it as he pinched and groped Amelie's rear. When he realized that the Queen would clamp her muscles each time he did, Jean started to pinch it more often, and faster, until her backside was littered with red welts.

"Ah! S-stop! Not like that!" Amelie protested, fuming inside at the liberties that Jean was taking. She couldn't deny the effect it was having though. The rough treatment was turning her on, in a way it never had before. She was never interested in this sort of play with her husband, when he had been alive.

It's Augras,

she thought,

it's what he's done to me.

Thinking of Augras sent another thrill through her. Both that he had wrought this change in her, but also in imagining that it was him doing this to her instead of her own soldiers.

"Don't be like that Your Highness" Jean snickered as he rolled his hips into her, grinding his cock around in a circle inside her to further stretch her walls, "we're all just having a bit of fun." He chuckled louder, emphasizing his point with a loud, sharp smack to her pert ass.

"Yeah, you wouldn't coming back if you weren't getting something out of it." Pierre added, breath labored as he struggled to hold back his climax.

The worst part was that tonight she wasn't getting anything out of it. For all the extra little thrills her depraved thoughts gave her, it just wasn't enough to push her over the edge. Something was missing and she didn't know what it was...or perhaps, she did. Deep inside she knew it was Augras that she wanted, or rather, that her body wanted.

It's the spell,

she assured herself,

it makes my body crave him, need him!

"Aaagh!" She cried out in frustration as her climax eluded her, despite her furiously grinding into the cocks impaled in her ass and pussy. Already her strategic mind was working on the problem. She couldn't have Augras, and if she were able to capture him she could force him to remove the spell, rather than slake her lust.

Perhaps it's not just Augras who will do...

"Ah, ah, that's it, that's it my Queen!" Pierre cried out loudly and slammed his cock all the way to her cervix before shooting his load, basting her pussy in his hot goo. "Nng!" He continued to grunt and pant, slamming his hips forward in rapid succession to fully milk his shaft as he drove through his climax.

When he was spent, Pierre fell back onto the floor of the tent to catch his breath. Jean tightened his grip on her wrists and bent her further forward, forcing her head down to Pierre's crotch. "Clean him up Your Highness! You owe it to him after he kindly volunteered to help with your problem!" Jean laughed and pushed Amelie's face into Pierre's slick dick.

Amelie started to lick the mixture of her juices and his cum off of Pierre's cock with resignation. She knew she wasn't going to get what she needed from them, and the sooner she finished up the sooner they would be gone. She started to flex her ass, tightening and releasing anal ring in rhythm with Jean's thrusts to bring him to climax even faster, all the while shaking her hips and rubbing her ass cheeks into the base of his cock.

She wrapped her lips around Pierre's dick, and sucked so hard that it made the soldier shudder as she slurped his shaft clean. As she fucked her ass on Jean's cock, the soldier slapped it furiously, until finally he cried out and shot his load deep into her bowels. Once his climax was finished and he came down from the high he released Amelie's hands and stepped back to fix his pants.

Amelie stood straight as their cum leaked from both her holes, then reached to her breasts to wipe off the beaded sweat. Her tent smelled like sex, and their loud cries probably alerted half the camp. That was a problem for later, however. "Thank you for your assistance." She stated simply, trying to ignore the undue liberties they took with her. "I trust in your discretion, please don't give me reason to lose faith in you."

They'll have to be first in line in the next battle,

she thought grimly.

Grabbing a sheet of paper and her quill, she quickly scribbled out an order to capture prisoners. "Take this to the chief of scouts immediately, we do still have a war to conduct."

"Yes, Your Highness." Jean gave her a smug smirk as he took the paper and left.

No matter, his time will come. And so will mine, once I have my hands on another orc prisoner.

****

The biting wind screamed through the entrance to the old mine, wailing like the cries of the spirits of those interred within.

Maybe it is,

Rosalind thought,

most of the Tribe thinks so.

No one else liked to come here, not anymore. Too many of their people had been thrown into the 'Mouth of the Abyss' when that monster Agmar ruled the hills, and many more orcs joined them when they were liberated.

Along with all the babes they tried to spawn on us.

The child Agmar put in her was down there as well, rotting in the mountain of corpses. Rosalind spit into the cavernous depth of the pit mine, and then turned and began walking up the hill.

No sense spending any more time here, I'll be joining them forever soon enough.

Her slender fingers tightened around the shaft of her spear and her other hand clutched her side as she pressed the butt of the spear into the ground. Even months after giving birth her body hadn't fully recovered, and now she was being thrust into conflict again.

The eastern watchfires began burning a fortnight ago, but it took a week to learn what that meant. Never before had an enemy come at them from the east. When the first messengers arrived spreading tales of the return of the green orcs alongside monstrous bull men they were met with incredulity. How could the orcs have gotten past the Thestans? And bull men, or Minotaurs, were the stuff of tall tales told by the traders who occasionally passed through their village.

Then giant flames joined those of the watchfires in illuminating the night sky. Bonfires that large could only come from villages being torched. With all the Catabrian men of fighting age off with Black Pete and the northern Hesten Lords (who could have ever imagined that they would be allied with Hestens?) Rosalind only had old men and young boys to defend the Hills, and even then not enough to stand against the enemy. Instead, they had been fortifying as best they could while drawing in their strength to withstand a siege.

"I refuse to believe that the Princess Knight has been defeated. The orcs may have out maneuvered her, but she will be on their tail, I'm sure of it." Rosalind had told her niece. She believed it too, she didn't have any other choice.

Despite the damage done during the battle, much of the wood from Agmar's fort was salvageable and had been reclaimed after the orcs and the Thestan army had moved on from the Hills. It had been intended to rebuild villages, fence in grazing areas, and create wagons to haul supplies from Thesta. Now destiny was making its claim, and the wood was set to its original purpose of war.

Day by day more refugees and streamed in from the east, affirming the tales of the monstrous bull men. The Minotaurs were as bad as the orcs if the stories were true. Rosalind had decided not to give them succor, but to send them on to the west. She would make her stand here to buy the rest time to evacuate into Heste where the allied army could protect them.

Now the enemy would be here by nightfall. The enemy always attacked at night, and led by the Minotuars. That much was clear from the survivors. Rosalind's heart began to beat faster as she considered it. In only a few short hours she would see for herself if the stories were true. As Rosalind reached the entrance to the new fort she looked back to the Mouth and a shiver went down her spine. She did not intend to be captured again, no matter what. She couldn't go through it all again.

Rosalind stalked through the camp to retrieve her bow and arrows, wading through the silence that permeated the fort. How different it was than the first time she had marched for war. Then she had been flush with excitement and sure of eventual victory. But now she knew that defeat was certain. She had resigned herself to die, but to buy her people as much time as possible to spare them the horror that she had suffered under the orcs.

As day faded into night she took her place atop the battlement. Soon, she hoped, her scouts would report back with the enemy's movement. Her own people knew the land, as well as hidden ways through it, but they lacked the apparent night vision of her monstrous foe. Rosalind was gambling that their knowledge of the terrain would win out.

Scattered below the battlement were the wooden cheval de frises left behind by the orcs when Amelie routed their army the year before. She had ordered torches affixed to them, both to serve as range markers for her archers and, she hoped, to blind the Minotaurs night vision.

The top of the battlement was clear of any such light so as not to silhouette the defenders. Only the barest sliver of the waning moon illuminated the night sky, and that was mostly washed out by the fires below. With luck they would be able to rain death unanswered upon the Minotaurs and their orc allies.

Occasionally she thought she heard the whispers of battle on the wind, either faint screams or the clash of iron and wood. Rosalind knew the final hour was approaching, and sure enough her sentries began returning to the hastily constructed fort.

"I saw them Ros, a whole great block of them, marching straight for us. Just like bulls, big giant bulls except with the body of a man. Armed and armored too, with thick axes that look like they could fell a tree." One of her scouts reported, causing murmurs to spread through the camps. By now everyone had heard that there were Minotaurs, but many had scarce believed the fanciful tales.

"What about orcs? Did you see any of them?" She asked impatiently.

The scout's answer didn't satisfy her. He fled before seeing any, just as the others had. It was almost preternatural how the Minotaur vanguard was able to detect her scouts, or perhaps it was just their inexperience showing. She had to rely on boys for her scouts, as they were the only ones left with the eyesight and stamina to get back. But their lack of seasoning meant they didn't stay long enough to get an accurate accounting of the enemy's disposition...or stayed too long through a sense of invincibility and thus never returned at all.

The heavy drum of hooves stomping on earth distracted her from that worry though. Right on the heels of her scouts were the monsters themselves marching steadily towards her palisade. "To arms! To the walls! Wait for my signal!" Rosalind rushed back to the wall to get her first glimpse of a Minotaur. The sight of the bull men shook her. Monstrously tall, and monstrously strong. Worse, and to her surprise, they

were

armed and armored in steel, and were moving in a disciplined formation.

At least for now. Perhaps their ranks will break when they charge.

It was the best she could hope for, anyway.