**Part 2: Dinner With the Enemy**
Varden awoke on his back, arms above his head, on the rug of the command tent. He glanced down, expecting to find himself covered in bruises. Instead, he was covered by a thin blanket, woven of some soft material.
The act of lifting his head and looking down sent splitting pain through his head. Gods, that powder. What had it done to him?
“Ah! You’re finally awake. Splendid,” a woman’s voice announced beside him.
He craned his neck, seeing Lorel lounging on a large dining chair at the head of her oak table. A spread of food was placed before her, the delicious smells wafting his direction. His stomach grumbled; he hadn’t eaten in… Wait, how long had it been?
Lorel was dressed, thankfully. She wore a pair of high leather boots, soft looking pants, and an elaborate tunic of silk, some kind of woolen shirt peeking out beneath the sleeves. She looked comfortable, like a human noble might, though far more casual.
“How long did I sleep?” he croaked. His throat was raw.
“Oh, twelve, fourteen hours,” she responded in a nonchalant tone. “It’s supper time. Hungry?”
Part of him, the proud, kingdom-loving side of him that had grown up with horrible stories of Orcs, wanted to refuse. How could he break bread with the enemy and still call himself a man of integrity?
The other part of him was starving, and did not care. He gave Lorel an eager nod.
She smiled a pleasant smile and rose from her seat. It was a smooth, graceful motion, like she’d been trained in court affairs. She crouched, looming over his recumbent head.
Whatever trace of virility powder remained in his system activated at her proximity. Varden swore he could still smell her sex; it was subtle, but certainly there. She grinned down at him, tusks emerging from her full lips.
She reached for his bindings, pausing as she grabbed hold of them. “You must promise me, Varden Man-Slave, not to flee. If you do, you will be filled with raven-feathered arrows before you reach the second dwelling from here. Then, my healers will stitch your wounds, and your life as my slave will become far more unbearable than what it might otherwise be. Do you understand me, meat?”
He was shocked at how quickly her tone went from casual to dripping with venom. He stammered a response. “Of course, Lorel. I will not flee.”
She shot a finger under his chin at blinding speed, sharp fingernail one push away from piercing his skin. Her forearm tattoos glowed with green light. “Mistress Warchief, slave. Do not forget your place.”
Varden gulped, terrified, and managed the slightest nod he could to avoid her piercing fingernail. She withdrew, unlocked his bindings, and marched back to her seat. “Sit,” she commanded, gesturing to a small stool near the wall of the tent.
Varden retrieved the stool and placed it on the long edge of the table. The food was piled close to Lorel, meaning he could not avoid her proximity. He sat, nervous, and began to fix himself a plate of food.
The food looked…delicious. There was a brace of small birds, skewered and grilled; bowls of fried vegetables covered in some unknown sauce; a platter of fruit drizzled in honey. Varden had never seen such fine food. Coming from nothing, he had known little more than stews and pies, with the occasional fowl or fish. This was…well, it was kingly! Or, queenly, perhaps.
Lorel studied him intently. His nerves were slowly abating at the promise of this much-needed meal. It was all he could do to stop himself from scarfing down his food. His gaze flicked towards his captor occasionally. She was picking at her food carefully. All the while, her steely eyes bore into him. He only now noticed that her eyes were a beautiful, lavender color.
He slowed his eating. “You,” he spoke, food still crowding his mouth. “You cast a spell on me. How? Are you some sort of witch?”
Lorel chuckled, wiping her mouth with a napkin. “No, not a witch, dear slave. Just blessed.”
His mind turned. What had she called herself? “Your name. Twice-Blessed. Is the magic why?”
Her eyebrows rose. “Very astute of you. Yes.” She plopped a naked bird-bone onto her plate, picked clean. “The majority of Orcs are born with great physical strength. Rarely, some are born with an innate magical seed within, which robs them of immense strength. But, when the moon is at its apex, and the Great Ones smile upon my people, there is a chance that a child is born with both.” She gave a sort of nod-bow in his direction. “I am one such child.”
“I thought magic was something taught in schools?” he replied. This woman was telling him things that were unraveling his worldview by the moment.
Lorel gave a hearty laugh. “Oh, of course, how could I forget? And let me guess, these schools are filled with pompous nobles, the only ones who can afford such training, thereby monopolizing the magic within the aristocracy?”
Varden had no response. She was very erudite, he was coming to learn, and seemed rather educated in some form or another. “I suppose,” was all he could conjure.
“I’m sorry,” she relented. “I tend to ramble.” She rose from her seat, her plate clean. “So,” she continued, “how do you feel about your duties, after this morning’s performance?”
He choked momentarily on his food, the question unexpected. Not the sort of thing he was used to discussing at supper. “I—” he sputtered, coughing. He composed himself. “I feel like my answer is not going to affect my situation.”
“I’ll put it plainly, Varden Man-Slave.” She began to pace. “That is what you are now—a slave. But, you can save yourself a world of trouble if you stop thinking so grim. You are valuable to us Orcs. My people have so few men left that man-seed is more valuable to us than gold. As a breeding slave, we won’t treat you poorly. You’ll be fed well, and you will be continuing your smithing if it is judged high enough in quality. You will be worked, but not to the death.” She gave him a wry grin. “We aren’t barbarians, after all. Not like you.”
Varden was taken aback by her comment. “What do you mean? Humans?”
“Yes. Your people are brutes, Man-Slave.” She produced a thin knife, picking her nails. “I’ve visited your cities before the war. You treat serfs like animals and toss them meager wages, and have the gall to say they’re not slaves. Beggars and children in the streets, orphans of starvation while your king lives in luxury. You will find no such injustices here.” Her voice was filled with contempt, eyes glowering at him like smoldering fire. “I only call you slave, for that is the only word you have for it in the common tongue. Our word for it is more apt. Sk’o’ri.”
He was stunned. Half a day ago, this woman was bedding him like an animal. No, he had been the animal, after she had drugged him. Now, she was lecturing him on societal issues over a dinner spread.
Lorel rested her hands on her wide hips, looking at him like a disappointed tutor. “My point being, Varden Sk’o’ri, that I am extending to you an offering of mutual understanding. Do what I ask, and you will be given all you need. Many that we have captured become quite content with their lives, after a time.” A smirk formed on her face. “Besides, this morning you seemed happy to oblige.”
“You drugged me! Used sorcery on me!” he retorted.
“True, but you were far more enthusiastic than most when under its effects. Even before I had used it, you seemed happy enough to gaze upon me.” The smirk remained on her face, growing, in fact.
Varden blushed. She was right. His animalistic side had taken over, but that tiny rational side of him had relented at some point and admitted that their coupling had felt good.
More than good. It was great.
“Come now, my slave,” she crooned. Her gaze met his own. She stalked towards him, caressing his chin with her enormous hand. Somehow, he didn’t even begin to flinch away. “Be honest. Tell me how you feel.”
The gesture was so sincere, he could not help but relent. Her eyes were piercing right through him, genuine curiosity within.
“I will admit,” he responded, bashful, “that you are not hard to look upon.”
She stood, expectantly. “‘Not hard to look upon.’ Did you double as a poet in your village?”
He made to respond, then recognized the sarcasm in her voice. “Clearly, I am not a man of words. But you are—” he stuttered for a moment. “You are beautiful.”
Her wry grin transformed into a genuine smile. “Thank you, Varden Sk’o’ri.” She sat back down at the table, pulling her hair into a ponytail and wrapping it with that leather cord. “You are not hard to look upon yourself, if I may say. I was surprised when you told me of your lifeless marriage. There must have been some disappointed village maidens.”
Varden shook his head. “Quite the opposite. I’ve never been the charismatic type.”
“Fear not, Man-Slave.” Lorel took a swig of ale out of a horn tankard. “You will not have to use words to make me swoon.”
“Thank the gods,” he muttered.
They sat in silence as he finished his meal. By the end of it, not a scrap remained. When he finished, Lorel rose from her seat, donning a fur-mantled cloak as she made for the entrance of the tent.
“Rest in my bed, Varden Sk’o’ri. Let your meal settle. I will be back, and your duties shall resume.” She gave him a sultry look, a wink, and then passed through the tent’s portal.
Varden’s face blanched. His duties. Lorel’s sincerity had almost made him forget.
She had a point, though. He was tired, even after so much sleep, and the food settling in his stomach didn’t help. The tent was so warm, too. He could really do with a nap…
Before he knew it, he was crawling beneath the bed’s blankets and furs, and the sweet aroma of Lorel that clung to the bedding enveloped him in a deep sleep.
Lorel arrived back at the tent an hour and a half later. She had met with her captains, their scouts returning from a long reconnaissance mission. Human villages at the base of the foothills were still reeling from their raids, but it appeared that response from their king had yet to be elicited. Good. They could continue probing without fear.
One of the scouts had yet to return. Moire, the human, had been sent to the human capital city to gauge the general sentiments regarding the king. Her last report had been promising; people were becoming upset in the cities due to a post-war slump.
Moire. Lorel could not help but miss her. She had been the first human to fully commit to her cause, just after the war. A veteran, she had become disillusioned with her people after years of fighting. Since then, she had been an invaluable asset to Lorel’s people.
And, she admitted, Lorel’s closest friend.
She flipped open the tent flap and walked inside, welcoming the warm interior. She shed her cloak and hung it by the door, glancing around.
There, in her bed, tucked under the covers, Varden slept soundly. She smiled. Perhaps he would come to enjoy his position and Chief’s Consort sooner rather than later. He looked so comfortable, in fact, that she had the mind to join him.
She began undressing. She undid her wide leather belt, allowing her to pull the silk tunic over her head. Kicking off her boots, she began to unravel the arm and leg wraps around her shins and forearms. Then, she moved on to her woolen underclothes, freeing herself completely from her cloth confines.
For a moment, she stood naked in the center of her tent, exalting in the warm air. It had been a long time since she had a worthy consort. She was going to enjoy this.
She crawled into the bed, moving Varden aside without any protest from him. He was naked as well; she just realized that she had given him no clothes after he had woken up. She would, of course, remedy that. After tonight, of course.
Lorel pulled him close. He was on his back, herself on her side. She traced her long finger over his face and down his chest, pulling the covers back as she did so. He shivered a bit, but did not wake. Eventually, her hand found what it was searching for; the slave’s girthy cock.
She wrapped her wide hand around its base. Immediately, it began to stiffen. Even with her large, Orc hands, it looked impressive. As she began to stroke its length, her other hand traveled to the space between her thighs, and got to work preparing her cunt.
Varden’s cock was nearing full hardness when he finally awoke. His eyes wandered for a moment, but as they focused in on Lorel, he suddenly flinched back. He tugged away from her, and she felt his manhood begin to grow flaccid in her grip. She let go, and Varden pushed himself to the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong, Man-Slave?” she probed. “I thought you said I was beautiful.”
“I…” He searched for words. “You are I just…I don’t know. I’ve lived my whole life seeing you as an enemy. Perhaps it’s getting in the way.”
Lorel considered for a moment. “Or perhaps you just need to see a woman’s body.” She pushed him upright, towards the foot of the bed, then centered herself in front of him. Throwing the blankets back, she exposed herself entirely to him. On her back now, she spread her legs, using one hand to spread her pussy apart, while the other caressed her tits.
“Fuck me, Man-Slave,” she said in the most alluring voice she could manage.
Varden’s eyes were wide, and he moved to do his bidding, but his cock had not reacted the way she intended. He positioned himself above her, as if preparing for a push-up, but only shook his head as he maneuvered his flaccid cock, trying to awaken it.
“I’m sorry, Mistress Warchief.” He looked genuinely ashamed of himself. “The powder might prove necessary.”
Lorel sighed, and rolled from her bed. Standing, she thought for a moment, then came to an idea.
“No,” she said, “the powder will not be necessary. Give me but a moment.”
She closed her eyes, muttering to herself. Her tattoos glowed blue, and she whispered her message into the mind of her recipient. “Send me Sav, if you will.” Hearing the subsequent Yes, Mistress, in her own mind, she nodded approvingly and made her way back to the bed.
Varden shied away as Lorel returned to her bed. What was wrong with him? Watching her walk back, he had tried to focus on the bounce of her beautiful tits, the sway of her ample hips, but it had little effect. Years of propaganda had wormed so far into his brain that this stunning specimen of a woman in front of him was not arousing him.
It seemed Lorel could sense his temerity, and she extended a hand out to caress him. “Don’t worry, dear slave. We will remedy this soon. Many men have trouble in their early days. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”
He nodded, but the feeling remained. A part of him, deep down, worried that if was not able to perform, she would dispose of him. Whether or not that was true, he did not want to find out.
After a couple of minutes, the tent flap opened, and strolling in was a cloaked figure.
“Ah, Sav, thank you. Please, come here, will you?” Lorel commanded, her words already soaked with lust.
The figure threw back their hood, and Varden saw the visage of a pretty young woman, her thin face framed in auburn hair. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and she had large, brown doe eyes. She gave a shy smile as she approached, undoing her cloak’s clasp.
It fell away, revealing her naked body. She was the complete opposite of Lorel. Lithe, her thighs did not touch as she walked, though her hips were wide. She had small, perky breasts, the soft, puffy nipples already hard from her walk in the cold.
“Varden, this is Sav. She is from the pleasure house.” He could see Lorel’s smile as the woman approached.
“Pleasure, m’lord,” said Sav. She curtsied, which was a strange motion without any clothes on.
“Please, on the bed, dear. Varden needs something…familiar before we get started.”
The young woman nodded and clambered on the bed, laying in the same position as Lorel had. Legs spread, Varden watched as her tiny, pink pussy spread for him, fine auburn hairs barely visible around and above it. “Please, m’lord,” Sav spoke. “Fuck me however you’d like.” She said it so assuredly. How could a woman with such a small frame be so confident?
However she did it, the trick had worked on Varden. His cock was already grown to near full size. Sav’s pussy, he saw, was soaking wet already. He lowered himself over her, one hand supporting him while the other grabbed his cock and positioned it just above Sav’s wet cunt.
He pushed it in, gently, not like the morning when he had rammed it.
Immediately, a sensation of bliss overtook him. Her pussy was incredible, so warm and moist, pulling him deeper. He obliged, and found it nearly as depthless as Lorel’s was that morning. Sav was panting in his ear, moaning her pleasure.
“Yes, oh yes, m’lord.” Gods, she was like a siren. “Your cock, I’ve never had anything like it!”
He continued his smooth strokes, pushing his entire length into her each time. He thought she might be playing it up, being a pleasure-maid, but every time he bottomed out inside of her, she flinched with pleasure. And that pussy… Something told him that you couldn’t fake that amount of wet arousal.
Gods, she was good. Varden’s head was reeling as he fucked her. He imagined a life with this woman, away from all this. She bore him many children, because all they did in their spare time was fuck. It was so beautiful. Perhaps, if he filled her with his seed this night, it could come true.
The fantasy was too much to bear. He opened his eyes, watching Sav’s perky tits bounce with each stroke, and he felt it build within him. He was going to cum, and he was going to do it so deep within Sav’s perfect pussy that she was all but guaranteed to have his children.
His balls began to tighten. His cock pulsed. Here it came he was—
“*Au’koren!*”
Lorel finished the incantation. Perfect. She had encircled him with a stoppage spell right on the verge of orgasm. He would stay hard for as long as it held. She was pleased.
Varden pulled out of Sav’s dripping cunt, confused. He looked down to the magic enveloping his ten inch cock, then over to Lorel. “Again? Why do you do this?”
She gave a sultry smile. “Sometimes, Man-Slave, a little assistance should be welcomed.” She strode confidently to the bed, then crouched. With one finger, she beckoned the two humans forward. “Now, Sav, I want you to lay beneath me and lick my holes. Slave, you sit on the edge of the bed.” She flicked her long, pink tongue over her full lips. “I want to taste her cunt on your dick, Man-Slave!”
They did as they were told. Sav began tonguing the Warchief’s dripping cunt, pleasing her immensely. Varden sat on the edge of the bed, throbbing manhood at full mast. She flashed him a wicked smile, then got to work.
Slowly, she worked her long tongue around the head of his cock. The combination of dribbling precum and Sav’s own juices was so delicious, it made her already wet mouth salivate with anticipation. She spat on her slave’s considerable girth, then began to work it with her hand, up and down, in tandem with her long tongue.
That did the trick. Varden’s head whipped back in ecstatic pleasure. She could feel his veiny cock pulse in her hands. Oh, how she delighted in controlling her men.
“Now, slave, let me show you something your human women are lacking.”
He looked at her, wide eyed in confusion, as she opened her mouth wide, and fully enveloped his entire cock in her wet mouth…
And down her throat.
Varden bucked, slamming this cock further into her throat. Had it not been for the magic, she was sure that he would have delivered a healthy load of man-seed directly into her stomach. Good thing she had thought ahead.
With zeal, she worked her mouth up and down from the tip of his head to the very base of his cock, over and over. She felt her throat bulge with every trip down, and the drool drip down her chin and onto her fat tits the opposite way. Sav was not being a slouch, either. She could already feel her cunt tighten as the human’s tongue flicked across her clit and into her pussy time and again.
For minutes, she continued like this, her slave pounding into her throat. At some point, she began fingering herself, rubbing her pulsing clit as Sav explored her pussy with her lithe tongue. Sav had slipped a wet couple of fingers into her asshole as well. By the Great Ones, she could not bear the pleasure.
With a stifled moan—ten inches of rock-hard man-cock in her throat—she tensed, her body shuddering with orgasm. Below, she felt her pussy squirt, spraying water all over Sav’s flustered face. Sav opened her mouth and drank, which only made it more exhilarating for Lorel. The orgasm lasted for at least a minute, during which time she never relented on Varden’s monstrous cock
When she was done, she rose. She could see her tits, bulging from her chest, absolutely covered in spit and drool. Varden’s cock, too, was soaking wet. Below, Sav looked like she had nearly drowned, but she was already fingering herself, keeping her juicy young cunt ready for her next instruction.
Lorel looked down at Varden with a grin. “Now, Man-Slave,” she bellowed. “You shall fuck my tight cunt, and when I allow it, you will empty your seed so deep within me that not a drop shall escape.”
Varden shook his head, eager.
As Lorel positioned herself on the bed, Varden felt…conflicted. Lorel’s display of sexual ferocity had initially frightened him. But now…Gods, had her oral attack been that good? Sure, her magic had kept his cock from going limp immediately, and from spilling his seed into Sav prematurely, but now he wasn’t sure if that was the only thing keeping him up.
Lorel assumed the same position she had earlier, with her muscular legs spread wide, presenting a glistening cunt and soaked inner thighs, while one arm caressed her gorgeous tits, pushing them together. Varden scooted forward on his knees, grabbing his throbbing cock in his hand, and—much to his surprise—gently guided it into her gaping hole.
He was immediately met with a pussy as tight as Sav’s. It seemed whenever Lorel climaxed, her cunt became ridiculously tight. Slowly but surely, he worked his cock in and out, gaining speed. He did not go down to the hilt, but worked to about halfway each thrust.
Lorel scoffed. “Oh, c’mon Man-Slave!” Her powerful arms left her breasts and pulled Varden forward. He put his arms out to stop himself from falling into her. Then, she dug her fingers into his buttocks. “FUCK ME!”
She yanked, and Varden was forced as deep as he could manage into her tight pussy. He felt the rim of her cervix as she pushed him all the way down, then released, allowing him to pull back out. She repeated the motion, over and over, forcing him as deep inside as physically possible.
Varden nearly blacked out from the pleasure. Her cunt was so enticing, so wet and hot and sticky. Gods, the smell this woman emanated was overwhelming. She smelled of musk and hot sex and spit and cum, both his and hers and Sav’s. The pheromones intoxicated him, until it was all he could do to keep himself from falling…
He collapsed onto her bountiful chest, face planting into those incredible tits. They were so soft, so round. He could just see through the green-tinted skin, dark veins running just beneath. Gods, what a sight.
Lorel kept using him, her immense strength forcing his cock deep with each stroke, then pulling him almost entirely out. She laughed when he collapsed, the motion jiggling her huge tits. So confident; Varden knew that she was satisfied with her conquering of him.
Varden could have dozed off in his heady state, until he felt Lorel begin to spread his own buttocks apart. Confused, he lifted his head—
Just in time to feel Sav’s tongue puncture his own asshole.
It sent a jolt through him. He tried to pull away, but Lorel was far too strong. He squirmed, but he soon gave up. He realized…it felt good. Very good. Sav was flicking her tongue in and out of his spread asshole, and he was enjoying it.
“Now, Man-Slave,” Lorel asserted. “Sav is going to stick her fingers in your ass, and when she’s found your weakness, I’m going to release the spell. Don’t worry, you’ll love it.” The grin she bore was so sultry and evil, it almost concerned him.
But all he could do was nod. Sav began, working her fingers deep inside of him. He gasped; Lorel was right. It was amazing. Whatever Sav had found within him, it was sending off insane signals to his brain.
For a moment, Sav simply worked away, until she announced “Found it, Mistress Warchief.”
“Excellent,” Lorel replied. She raised her hand.
And snapped her fingers.
If Varden had thought this morning’s orgasm was the largest he’d ever had, he was dead wrong.
A veritable deluge of cum exploded out of him, just as Lorel pushed him as deep into her pussy as he could possibly go. He felt pressure build within the airtight walls of her cunt, and she tried to pull away, but Lorel simply would not relent. Sav mercifully pulled her fingers out of his ass, but there was no stopping what had been unleashed.
After what felt an eternity, his cock finally stopped its wild pulsing, and he collapsed onto Lorel’s chest once again. He felt his cock begining to go limp, making some room for the bucket of seed he’d just emptied inside of the Warchief.
Within a moment, he fell into a deep sleep, head still nestled between his master’s perfect breasts.
Lorel gently eased the slave off of her. His cock spilled out of her soaking cunt, still partially hard and dribbling cum. Sav immediately hopped over to wear he lay. Her tiny hands made his cock look enormous when wrapped around it. She couldn’t even close her grip around the thing, it was so thick.
Sav shoved his thick head into her mouth and began stroking the length of his soft cock. Lorel knew what she was doing; she was trying to work any remaining seed from his shaft into her mouth, desperately hoping for a taste of what had just filled Lorel’s quivering hole.
After a moment’s massaging, Sav pulled the cock from her mouth and gulped the load of hot, sticky seed down. A small line of cum leaked from the corner of her mouth, which she eagerly pushed back into it with her lithe fingers.
“Oh, Mistress Warchief,” she moaned, “I do hope you keep this one. His cum is so sweet. And his cock… He must be half-god to have such a perfect cock!”
Lorel grinned. “Don’t worry, my dear, I’m certainly keeping him.”
She pulled Sav close and they both wormed their way under the covers. Twice more did Lorel make Sav eat her pussy, and twice did she return the favor, until they fell into restful sleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/1138th7/the_prisoner_part_2_dinner_with_the_enemy_ffm
Very nice. Deliciously detailed.
Fantastic so far, eagerly waiting for more from you (:
Keep it going
!updateme
Nice!