Deep in the bowels of the earth, there was no sound. This echoing silence rang foreign in Alura’s elongated ears. The dark places had no trees, no musical birds, and no light. The only noise was sweaty hips smacking into her rippling backside and the hoots of her green captors.
Grimy dirt ground roughly into her palms and knees. The brutes had kept her bent over almost exclusively, of course uncultured animals like them preferred to mate in this savage manner. The stinking creature was standing and hauling her hips off the ground to meet his hungry long thrusts. Her mind began to blur again as he quickened his pace.
Orc cocks were different, and not in the good way. They stank, were overly thick in the middle, and had maddening little bumps in some places that made concentrating all the more difficult. But it wasn’t just physical.
Elves had special senses, and Alura could smell more than the reek of body odor in the stifling cave. It was magic, old magic, power so old that even the one’s that possessed it didn’t know they had it. To them, she was just a dumb elf who’d ‘accidentally’ stumbled into their midst. But Alura was known for many things, and mistakes were not one of them. They thought she was their newest breeding slave, but in reality, she was a thief.