It was early evening in Thistle Spear, a small village along the trade route between Dorn's Valley and the Husken Highlands. Just a day prior, we had wrapped up disbanding a decent-sized bandit troupe that had been tormenting travelers along the route. We were paid this morning, but I was too exhausted to celebrate with my mates. I spent the day, instead, resting and soaking my muscles. My left arm and shoulder were still sore.
I did, however, had a shop I wanted to take a look at. I overheard some folks talking about it on the way to town. Not only that, but I was a bit... embarrassed about the idea of going to one of these places, but I was aching something fierce. I needed relief, and I was a tad desperate at this point.
I pulled on a loose, comfortable shirt and a pair of breeches. Quietly, I made my way downstairs past the inn's common area. My crew had ended up there after hitting a few other pubs and shops throughout the day. I didn't want them to see me come to this.
I slipped out the door and into the cool breeze. The air in this region was a bit chilly for most, but I grew up on a small island in the north. This was summer for me.
I made my way down the road. Most of the shops were packing up, but I knew my destination would be open. I was told they were almost always open. A turn down an alley, a few buildings down, turn the corner at the old smithy, and there it was: Madame Basalt's Nut Parlor.
The building was a bit deceptive. It looked small and quaint from the front. Hell, it looked almost like a regular shop. The sign even had a relief of a walnut. Inside was warm; the lights were dim, and the air smelled of spices. I couldn't tell you what kind, but it smelled foreign. Along the right was a thick wooden counter, and along the left and to the back were shelves of boxes of nuts. Pecans, walnuts, cashews, some brown, round ones I had never seen before. Now that I think of it, small, brown, and round describes most nuts. So, that isn't very helpful.
Was... was I led astray? Was this just a regular nut shop?
Behind the counter was a dwarf. He was about half my height, with his red hair and beard neatly woven into thick braids all around his head. He wore a thick turtleneck sweater, and a slightly pink apron adorned with small flowers over that.
"Excuse me, sir", I began.
"Please, call me madame", she said in a voice made for hollering down a mine shaft.
"Sorry. Madame. Is this?...", I hesitated, not wanting to say what I was told to say. "That is. I'm looking for someone to 'take care of my excess nuts'". I could feel my face turning red, and was slightly embarrassed upon uttering the phrase.
She abruptly exclaimed, "Ah! Of course, of course. Tell me, hun, is this your first time?"
Trying not to look nervous. I nodded "yes". Quickly and with business-like care, she went through her questions.
"No worries. We'll take good care of you. Tell me what you're looking for? Any preferences? Certain types, shapes, or activities? Any favorite tools you like to use?"
I have been having this urge lately. A curiosity had struck me in one of the bigger cities down south. Since then, I was thinking about it over and over again. I wanted to try it. See if it was just passing curiosity, or something I really wanted. I told the madame what I was looking to have in detail. She regarded me thoughtfully, smirked, and said, "Now don't you worry, young man. I have just the thing, and I think you'll love it".
She hopped off her stool, and came over to the side of the counter and gestured me to come around behind it. We approached a door behind the counter that I hadn't, in my nervousness, noticed before. It was very plain, but had a cheeky sign that said, "Nuts Only" and included a little drawing of a walnut with arms and legs and the goofiest grin a nut had ever had. It did not calm my nervousness.
Behind the door stretched a hallway. The spartan nut shop decor, or lack thereof, was absent here. It was gaudy and frilly and, despite the dim candlelight, bright. The center of the hallway had a runner adorned with flowers and vines in every color and fringe running up the length of it. Doors ran along both sides, and between them sat low tables with drawers, and atop were bowls of implements and shapes that I had never seen before. Hanging on the walls above the tables were paintings of silhouettes in erotic poses. I wasn't certain how to react. This was all so very new to me. So, I kept calm and tried not to sweat myself to nervousness.
The madame took me to an unassuming door. Granted, everything is unassuming when compared to the hallway decor. She beamed up at me and motioned to the door, "Here you are, deary. This lass will take good care of you."
My heart thumping a bit, I stepped inside.
The room was fairly plain. It held a cushioned bench chair covered with oddly shaped pillows, along with a small table in front of it. On the other side of the room was a large, dark wooden bed with linens of various of blacks and dark grays. On either side of it was a small table. And just off to the side of all that was a tall cupboard of some sort. And there was where I saw the tall women. She must have easily been a head taller than me. She was wearing some sort of robe, but it was faintly see-through. Enough that I could see she was wearing almost nothing underneath. Just a triangle of something on her ass and a band of some kind on her back.
She was also not how I imagined her to be.
Without turning, she said, "do I hear someone new to play with? I'll be with you in just a sec, my pet".
She finished whatever it was that she was doing, turned, and strode over to me. This... this was not what I expected! She was big. Not just tall, I was hoping for that, but she was big the other way. I was looking for something lean and green and powerful, like a mountain lion. This woman was gray and soft: round shoulders, large breasts, a belly, wide hips, thick thighs. There were enough peaks and valleys to make a mountain jealous. And what little clothing she wore, a shirt that barely covered her tits and a bit of triangle over her lady parts, was stretched so tightly that I was surprised they stayed in place.
I wanted an orc warrior to overpower me, but instead I got the orc milkmaid.
I should have known better than to try a brothel. I felt like such a damn foo-- "Hey!" The orc interrupted my thinking.
After a pause, she said, "I see the pet is disappointed, and we can't have that". I didn't realize I was wearing my disappointment so clearly, and felt a little ashamed, but still frustrated.
"Tell me", she continued with a hand on her soft hip, "were you expecting something else? Maybe, perhaps some kind of green-skinned, muscular bimbo? A powerful woman to sweep you off your feet and ravage you? The look of disgust on your face says it all."
She eyed me sharply. I stared back nervously, but defiant. Those eyes... almost looked predatory. The orc woman barked out a sharp couple of laughs, her canines on display. She then stepped forward. Her massive frame towered over me, and I fell back into the bench chair, lowering me further under her. Her eyes continued to watch my every movement like I was some cornered rabbit.
"Unfortunately for you, green-skin for us is about as rare as red hair in humans. Fortunately for you, Madame's been in this business a very long time. With a glance, she knows what you want more than you do. She sent you to me for a reason."
She lifted her foot and placed it next to me on the chair, leaning further over me so that I had to bend back to see her face past her breasts. A smile, hungry, slowly spread across her face. Smoothly she introduced herself, "I am Victoria, your host for this evening. And you, my pet, will be called 'Scraps' because that is what you deserve after your rudeness."
I began to protest, but I was cut off before words came out, "I don't care what your name is. Here you are 'Scraps', and you will address me as 'Mistress'. And, if you make up for your behavior, you might be rewarded. Is that clear?
"Uh, yes?" I replied.
"I'm sorry. What was that?" There was an edge to her voice.
"Yes... Mistress."
"Good boy, Scraps!"
Victoria straightened up, and strode over to the bed. A quick motion of her arms and the robe was off and on the floor. Her calves curved up gently, widened to her big thighs, which gave way to a large, soft, round ass. Small dimples lined the bottom half of it. For a moment, the gray skin made her almost look like a living statue. The sight was brief as she spun around and sat on the bed. Her movements seemed more powerful and sure than before. Or... maybe it was in my head. I wasn't sure.
Victoria gestured to the robe, "pick it up, Scraps. Hang it nicely on that hook there", and she motioned to a set of hooks on the wall nearby.
I hesitated. The orc's bright-green eyes narrowed. "Don't make me repeat myself."
This... this was what I wanted, right? An orc woman to dominate and overpower me? She looked confident, but was it all an act? I wasn't certain, but I was going to find out. I steadied my resolve and uttered, "No. I'm not your servant. I hired you."
"Indeed", she replied. Her voice wasn't sharp, but there was something to it. I couldn't put my finger on it. "It seems we have some training to do."
The orc stood, and I thought she was about to bend down and pick up the robe. Instead, she grabbed me by the shirt and tossed me on the bed. It was effortless. At least, no more effort than I would have had to give a bag of flour. I sat up, but she was ready with her hand to my chest and pushed me back down. Firm hands grabbed my ankles and lifted my legs. This kept me from being able to sit back up. A quick twist, and I was on my stomach. I heard two loud clicks and felt cold steel on my legs. My one arm that was out was then grabbed and cuffed. She came around and pulled at my single free arm. I resisted, but she had the advantage. I was trapped, and tied down in shackles.
I felt her breath on my ear as she murmured, "Now, Scraps, since you are new at this, I will not gag you. If you want this to stop at any time, simple say 'Walnut' and I will stop. No questions asked".
