This story was inspired by the alluringly barbaric and barbarically alluring illustrations of an artist who goes by the handle
JustSomeNoob.
I'm not able to link to their work here, but I strongly encourage the reader to google this excellent artist, who also goes by
JSNart.
If you like the kind of big strong women who feature in the following story, then I promise you will like the art that inspired it. And I further promise that the artist is anything but a noob.
Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy The Warchief's Favour.
###
Örek would never have dreamed that he might look upon a She-Orc with anything but contempt. The ill-humoured northerner had done bloody battle with their male counterparts countless times, and the acts of savagery he'd seen them commit were enough to chill even his barbarian blood. He'd never encountered a female Greenskin before, but all accounts held them to be just as ugly, just as ruthless, and just as violent as their menfolk--and he'd never had reason to doubt the truth of those accounts.
That they were ruthless and violent turned out to be true, as he learned when a pack of Orcesses took him in the middle of night, pouncing on him as he slept and dragging him off to their camp. He'd roared in anger, struggled madly, and laid about him with his fists and shins. But his thickly muscled limbs had been useless against their green thews, and their bellows of triumph and raucous laughter had drowned out his cries of rage as they stripped and bound him.
The morning after his capture, the sun rose on their crude settlement to find Örek naked, hands above his head, bound to a thick wooden stake that stood in the middle of a ring of mud huts. His limbs twitched, and he muttered curses as he glowered out from beneath his short blonde hair at the Greenskins gathering about him. But he was powerless to do anything besides.
Whether their men were out raiding, or whether it was customary among Orcs for the sexes to live apart, Örek could not say. But whatever the reason, the Orcs that emerged from their huts to stand before him were females all, and he was surprised to find that they were
far
from ugly.
They were, of course, massive, with the smallest of them standing half a head taller than Örek. Their green skin was stretched over thick limbs that rippled with muscle, and short tusks jutted from between their lips. They were unshod, bare feet calloused and covered in dust, and their hands were of a size to wrap all the way around a man's skull--and crush it too, no doubt. In other words, they were the picture of strength and savagery.
But those lips were full and pouting, and though their limbs and trunks were thick, their hips were wide to match. Their busts were just as ample as the rest of them, and all stood before him bare-breasted, mouths quirked in hungry smiles, and wide, lustrous green eyes glimmering in the morning light. Their thick, earth-toned hair spilled over broad shoulders in sweeping waves, and some even twirled it about their fingers, standing with hips cocked like ale-hall harlots.
But these were no waifs awaiting his pleasure. Örek had felt their strength the night before, and he saw it now in their nearly-naked bodies. He knew that he was at their mercy. They knew it too, judging by the haughty looks they wore as they looked him up and down, and he began to wonder what it was they had in store for him.
If his past experience with Orcs was any indication, he could expect his fate to be cruel and drawn out. And yet, something in the way they carried themselves told him that his expectations were about to be thwarted. Something told him that these towering visions of monstrous femininity did not mean him real harm. At least not yet.
And it was at that thought, to his bewilderment, that his bare cock gave its first flutter of the day.
He was so absorbed by his assessment of his captors that he'd forgotten his nakedness. But the moment he felt the blood start to pump a little quicker between his legs, he was reminded of his state by the multiple sets of eyes that darted downwards in unison.
There were at least a dozen Orcesses watching him now, and they all began muttering amongst themselves, elbowing one another, chuckling, and offering up their own guttural equivalents of "oohs" and "ahs." And the more eagerly they expressed their approval, the more aware Örek became of his nakedness, and of the Orcs' own varying states of undress. His heart sped up and he began to recall the feel of their hands on him at the moment of his capture. He remembered of the warmth of their hulking bodies as they wrestled him into submission, and all once he realized with a downward glance that he was half-erect.
When he turned his gaze back towards the gathered Greenskins, they'd grown even more animated. They laughed openly, while some leaned forward for a better look or made wet kissing noises around their tusks with those full, pouting lips. Some made their best attempt at doe-eyes, and still others squeezed their breasts together, no doubt hoping to speed up the stiffening of his uncut cock with their lifting, bouncing, and jiggling.
It worked, and worked quickly at that.
By the time the first of them stepped out of the crowd and started towards him, hips swaying, his member stood as high as his navel.
Örek had never hardened so quickly in his life, let alone without a helping hand, but then he'd never encountered a creature like this before. The woman before him--for she
was
a woman, for all her strength and her size--seemed more imagined than real. She was at once terrifying and titillating. She had all the proportions and charms of a tavern wench, and radiated barbaric brutality at the same time. She came towards him like a stalking cat, hungry eyes looking him up and down like he was a meal as much as he was a man.
She locked eyes with him, looking
down
from her towering height to meet his gaze, and her hands slid over her breasts and down the rippling slab of her abdomen to take hold of her ragged loincloth. Örek was so absorbed by the look on her face, and by the way she licked her lips as she advanced, that he didn't even notice when she cast aside that scanty garment, leaving herself totally naked.
"You're small, Human." She said in an accent that oozed allure, for all its huskiness. "But not as small as the other Pinkskins I've met." She cocked eyebrow. "I think I may keep you. I am Warchief of these women, and it is my right."
The sound of her voice broke his stupor, and with his eyes finally freed from hers, Örek became aware of her total nakedness. He'd already had an eyeful of her mountainous breasts, but allowed himself another look, for they now hung close enough that he could reach out and touch them, were his hands not bound above his head. In spite of the the Greenskin's stony thews, in spite of the hardness of her great body, he could tell that her bust was as soft as any woman's, and his racing thoughts were suddenly subsumed by the urgent need to bury his head between her bosoms.
"It was not hard to tie you up and take you last night, Human. But you fought well, and I can see that you're not so soft as the rest of your kind. I was to cook you and feed you to my battle sisters, but I think you'd make poor eating. Your meat is too tough." She looked down again, reaching for his cock, but stopping short at the last moment.
"Too stiff."
Örek knew he should be struggling to escape. He knew that this moment might well be his last, and it would be a shameful thing to meet his end drooling over his enemy like an idiot. But there was nothing for it, and he found himself staring at the thick thatch of hair that started just below her navel and covered the mound between her legs, and at the glistening green lips just barely visible there.
She was close enough to smell, and gave off rich earthy odours that made his nostrils flare and his blood pump even harder. His head swam. Thoughts of escape fled, and were replaced by a frantic need to break his bonds and lunge at the She-Orc--to hurry along what he knew must be coming.
He had to have her!
Here was a woman who was more than his equal in strength and size, who was ample in ways undreamed of, and who was a true match for a barbarian such as he.
"Come closer then!" he growled at her. "If you won't eat me, then put me to better use! Blast you, Orc, I can see that you are a woman, and more of one than I've yet tasted. Make use of me or slay me, gods damn you! I stand ready!"
"Yes, most ready." She said with a smirk, and took another step forward, reaching out at the same time to wrap her huge hand around his erection.
His breath caught, and he looked down to see that his member had almost completely disappeared in her grasp, with just the tip protruding from her fist.
The feel of her hand and its strength sent a thrill through his loins, and all at once he found himself on the brink, ready to burst just like the first time he and one of his village girls had disrobed together in the days of his youth.
"You'll have me, sure enough." She said, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, her thick tresses brushing against his reddening face. "But you will not
take me