Grash's Plan

by mugen91

Summary:

A young man is accompanied by an orc mercenary to deliver an important message on behalf of his master. Unbeknown to him, his guard wants more from him than to simply see their task completed.

“Only two more weeks, my boy,” the old man said in a jolly tone.

“Two more weeks?” Oscar wondered and pulled his cloak tighter around himself. “I can’t wait to be done with this business.”

“Yes, yes,” the man said. “This cold is not for everyone, yes, I do declare.” He gave a hearty chuckle. “Of course, I have travelled this route many times. Believe me, this is far from the worst the Shatter Pass has offered me in the past.”

“Worse?” Oscar wondered. “Colder, you mean?”

Again he chuckled. “Colder, of course. But storms also. Storms and eh…,” he threw a nervous glance at Grash and continued at a whisper. “Undesirables… Well, I suppose that won’t be an issue when that one is with you, eh?” Oscar threw a glance back at Grash. He didn’t know if the orc had understood the merchant, but it seemed an unnecessary risk in any case. Even if his experiences with her these last few weeks indicated that her command of language was somewhat lacking. “I know I’ve asked this before, but she does seem a strange travel companion for a nice fellow like you.”

Of course, the merchant left the actual question unspoken. And similarly, Oscar would not give him an answer. Lord Ingel had been very insistent in his demand that the letter hidden in the hidden pocket of his tunic remain secret until such time as he arrived in Wertford and could deliver it to Lord Marsen. “A strange companion, yes. But a reliable one.”

“A mercenary, yes?” The curious merchant kept on pressing. “I have heard the paintings point to that.”

Oscar shot another look at Grash. She wore her black hair in a long ponytail, but the sides of her head were shaved and covered in red markings. One side showed the shape of a handprint, while the other showed a pattern of parallel and perpendicular lines. “Is that what it means?”

The merchant chuckled again. “You mean to tell me you’ve been travelling with her and don’t even know that? Perhaps I should rethink my opinion of you, boy.” He leaned in and said more quietly once more. “These savages are dangerous. It is clear that you have some reason to travel with her, but I recommend you be cautious.” He leaned back and his serious demeanour turned jovial once more. “In any case, I don’t understand how she can travel the Shatter pass in that garb. Perhaps you wish to share your secret with us, Orc?”

In that, Oscar wholeheartedly agreed with the merchant. Grash wore no more than sandals, a loincloth, a light tunic, curiously sturdy looking vambraces and a heavy sword at her side. Even looking at her made Oscar feel all the colder and gather his cloak a little bit tighter about himself. He really couldn’t wait to be done with this business.

“Humans weak,” Grash declared.

“Yes, yes. That is the answer I expected. Of course it is,” the merchant said, then gave him a long look before turning and calling to one of the others.

“Don’t trust,” the orc said as she stepped closer to Oscar. She towered more than a full head over him.

“He seems nice enough,” Oscar said. “And going through the pass with his troupe is surely safer than going by ourselves.”

The orc grumbled and spat out, showing clearly what she thought of his argument. She wasn’t exactly skilled when it came to presenting an argument, but there was little doubt she had her opinions and stuck to them. She hadn’t liked the man, nor any of the others, from the moment he had secured their place among their group to go through the pass. He still didn’t have a clue why, as none of them had done anything to earn her animosity. Of course, Oscar himself was careful not to become too familiar with them. The odds that one among them knew of his secret task were small, but even so his task demanded that he keep up his guard. Even if the substantial detour they had taken should have been enough to shake off any potential pursuers. Now that he thought of it, the idea to take this route had been Grash’s. She had said something along the lines of being familiar with the region.

“Human!” The orc growled and took him out of his thoughts.

“What is it,” he demanded. Instead of answering, the sole of her sandal hit him in the back and sent him sprawling on his face. “What’s your problem, you…?” He began demanding angrily when he heard the shouts of pain. Startled, he looked up and saw one of the merchant’s sons lie face down, a shaft of dark wood sticking out of his back. “What?” He stammered. He was safe wasn’t he? He’d taken this detour, all to make sure there were no pursuers, no one to await them. Lord Ingel’s aid had assured him it was unlikely in the first place someone would come after him. Then why? Were these just regular bandits?

“Fool human,” Grash shouted and pulled on his cloak. The sound of tearing fabric and frustrated grunt on the orc’s part was interrupted by the sound of an arrow plinking off the rocky ground just a few hands-widths from his head. The orc roughly pulled him to his feet and then right off them. She clutched him close to her body as she sprinted for the edge of the pass, right towards the ravine.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, NOO,” he shouted as they went for the edge and then over it. The orc struggled to stay upright as she navigated the steep decline, but there was no way she would succeed. She would snag her feed on one of the many edges, rocky outcroppings or one of the crevices. The pass lay hundreds of meters over the bottom of the Hirpen valley.

The orc’s efforts were admirable, miraculous even, but eventually her steps failed. She grunted an unintelligible curse and Oscar screamed in terror and shielded his head as best he could as she stumbled with him clutched close.

---

“Urrghhh,” he groaned. The first thing he noticed was pain. There was no part of his body that did not ache. The second part he noted was the cold. The third was the fact that he was still alive.

“Awake?” He heard the orc grunt at him and he opened his eyes. Or rather, one of them. The right side of his face hurt and he couldn’t open that eye. He felt at his face and instantly withdrew his probing fingers. Even a soft, probing touch caused more pain. “Speak!” The orc demanded impatiently.

“I’m awake,” Oscar mumbled. His tongue lay heavy in his mouth and his words came out slurred.

“Good. Lucky,” the orc said. She seemed incapable of forming sentences containing more than one or two words.

“Lucky?” He demanded. He wanted to say more, but speaking was painful. He hoped his disagreement of her assessment was made clear with the single word.

She clicked her tongue and reiterated in her heavy accent. “Lucky. No break.”

He gingerly began to feel his body up and down. Moving his arms was painful, but she was right, they were not broken. Even the rest of his body seemed fine. If your definition of fine was ‘one single major bruise’. “How are we alive?” He demanded.

She clicked her tongue again. “Lucky,” she repeated.

“You… You jumped off the lip of the pass,” he recalled. “You almost killed us, you… You’re supposed to protect me!”

He heard her gather spittle and spit it out. “Protect you,” she declared. “Too many.” Oscar tried to rise to his feet, but his core screamed in anguish and he quickly gave up. “Can stand?” She asked.

Oscar shook his head and for the first time since he woke up the orc entered his field of vision. She looked somewhat like he felt. Her long, muscular legs were bruised and scraped, the tunic was mere tatters and every bit of her dark green skin that was visible was just as bruised and scraped up as her legs. She still had her vambraces, but had lost her sword. Her sharp face was bruised as well, but looked a lot better than his own was feeling. She scrutinised him with her dark amber eyes, then spat once more. Oscar tried once more to rise, but winced and wanted to give up again. But Grash grabbed his forearm and pulled him forward. “Ow, ow, ow,” he whined, but the orc did not show mercy. She held him in an upright sitting position and then got him back on his feet.

She roughly patted him down, making him wince with every ungentle touch, but finally let out a satisfied huff. “You fine,” she declared. “We go.”

“Go?” He demanded. “Go where?”

“South and east,” the orc declared.

“Southeast? We’re going to Wertford! It’s to the north. Only two more weeks.”

“Huh,” the orc huffed. “Hirpen Valley. Exit south and east.”

That shut him up. Of course they had gone down the slope and unless they could magically get up the slope again, the Shatter pass was out of reach. He craned his neck, which caused another new painfully jolt to go through his body. They were at the edge of a steep cliff. The Hirpen Valley stretched out below him. Far below him. He swallowed. Their tumble hadn’t taken them nearly to the bottom of the valley. That was good, they might not have survived otherwise, but it was also bad. It meant they had to go down the rest of the way. They were currently on a plateau, perhaps twenty meters across and the remaining slope seemed to be much gentler than it had been earlier, but with how sore he was feeling, there was no way he would make it. “How are we going to get down?” He asked.

“Careful,” the orc declared.

“I’m injured,” Oscar complained. “I’m never going to make it!”

“Go or die,” the orc shrugged. Oscar was taken aback. Was that a threat? There was no threat in her posture. She looked relaxed as she mustered him. “No supplies,” the orc clarified, perhaps seeing his unease.

“No…supplies,” he muttered and the significance of her words sunk in. All he had had been on the wagons. The wagons up on the pass. All he had left was what he had on his person. No food, no water, no tent or blankets to ward off the cold.

“What are we going to do?” He stammered. The orc had even less on her than he did, but she didn’t look terribly concerned.

“Go down,” Grash declared. “Find water. Find food.”

“I’m never going to make it,” Oscar reiterated his earlier concern.

The orc grumbled as her gaze switched between him and the valley laid out beneath them, then she muttered a curse under breath. She hoisted him onto her shoulders. “Hold!” She ordered as she made for the edge of the small plateau.

“Oh gods, please,” Oscar mumbled as he held tight onto the orc’s sturdy back.

He had expected to die. He really had. But the orc had proven surprisingly adept at navigating the steep ravine when she didn’t begin with a running start. Slowly and methodically she picked her way downward with him slung across her back like a sack of wheat. His numerous bruises ached with every little jostle and yet Grash seemed almost entirely unbothered by hers. She didn’t let out anymore than the occasional grunt when she had to do a little leap or when the ground under her sandals began to slip unexpectedly. At the very least the cold felt like less of an issue. The orc radiated an abnormal amount of heat. Heat for which Oscar was very thankful, even if it was somewhat disagreeable to be carried by an orc. It took them the better part of what remained of the day to make their way down to the treeline. They were large, sturdy looking ones. Old probably, though Oscar didn’t know much about these things.

After reaching the treeline, Grash had adjusted her angle. Before she had been going almost straight downwards, but now she seemed like she was walking toward a specific objective. Before he could ask her about it, he heard the sound of water flowing over rocky ground. He licked his dry lips in eager anticipation of quenching his thirst, but to his disappointment, it took Grash almost another half an hour to reach the small but quick flowing stream going down the slope.

“Water!” he begged when she didn’t immediately stop.

“No,” she declared. “Find better place.”

She wanted to find a resting place, he thought. Perhaps that was reasonable, but it was still torturous to have water this tantalisingly close, but be unable to sate his thirst. Grash followed the stream downwards, carefully picking her way through the terrain with him still slung across her back until she found a place that seemed to satisfy her.

A small hollow with relatively even ground, protected from view and wind on three sides by stones and trees and not far from the stream. When she finally set him down, he scrambled for the water, not even caring for all his aching limbs as he did so. He greedily slurped up the water, feeling its life giving essence rejuvenate his spirits. Now if only they had something to eat.

“Drink slow,” he heard the orc say behind him. “Drink quick bad.”

“Why?” He asked between shovelling handfuls of water into his thirsty mouth.

“Hmmm,” she grumbled. “Bad for…” she rubbed across her toned stomach.

“Bad for the stomach to drink fast?” He asked and she nodded.

“Best drink slow,” she said and joined him at the stream to sate her own thirst. “Human not smart.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you,” he complained and a sharp wrinkle formed on her forehead.

“Me….” [Fucking pink tongue. I want to hear you speak orcish fool pink.] She spat angrily.

Oscar wrinkled his forehead in confusion. He hadn’t understood a word, but at least that was a lot more words together than the orc normally managed. Did she just have a subpar knowledge of his language? Who knew that orcs had their own language? Or was that even orcish? He decided to drop the topic and pretend like he hadn’t heard anything and went back to drinking. The orc glared at him for a moment, then proceeded to do the same.

“What are we going to do now?” He asked.

Grash looked skyward. “Stay night,” she declared in that same heavy accented but calm voice she normally used.

“What about food?” He asked.

“Look food next day,” she said.

He regarded her unhappily. Some part of him knew that that was probably the best she could do and yet he was still unhappy with the response. Wasn’t she supposed to see him safely to Wertford? That’s what Lord Ingel’s coin had paid for. Of course, the implication had been mostly to protect him from more immediate harm. He was probably lucky the orc hadn’t decided to ditch him up on the ravine. There was no doubt that without him slowing her down, she could make better time. Hopefully the second half of her fee, promised to be paid upon completion of the job, would be enough to keep her motivated.

“Okay, scavenge for food tomorrow,” he agreed over his growling stomach. “What now?”

Grash shrugged. “Rest.”

She made her way to one of the edges of the small clearing and laid down without much ceremony. He looked at her uncertainly. There was no way he would be able to enjoy a good night’s rest just like this. He was shivering even now and it wasn’t even fully dark yet. But what could Grash do about it? She had even less cloth on her than he did. With great reluctance he tried finding a spot that would offer a semblance of comfort and rolled up into a fetal position.

Grash’s breathing turned shallow and even quickly. Had she already fallen asleep? How could she fall asleep just like that? They were in an unfamiliar place, without supplies, without protection. Men had tried to kill them just earlier and they had barely survived. They were both bruised and battered and now trapped in the Hirpen Valley. The Shatter pass would have taken them through the bleak peaks in a few week’s time, but reputedly there was just one pass that could take you out of the Hirpen Valley. Just like Grash had said, it was to the south of the valley. It could take them weeks or months just to leave the valley and then they would still have to take one of the other passes through the bleak peaks.

Instead of the two weeks the merchant had discussed earlier, it would be months before he could fulfil his assigned task. They would punish him for the delay, no doubt. That was if he could make it out of the valley at all. It was a wild place. Far too remote for human settlers to bother with it. Without supplies or meaningful wilderness experience, Grash was the only chance he had at leaving this alive. How long would she tolerate him if he couldn’t pull his weight? Surely the lost wages from wasting her time on him would weigh more heavily than the outstanding part of her pay?

His mind raced in circles with all his bleak worries. He turned from side to side, but couldn’t find his way to a state of restfulness. Even when it was fully dark, his worry about the future was only replaced with more immediate concerns. Just like he had feared, darkness had dropped the temperature even further and he was shivering worse than ever. Perhaps all his worrying about the future was moot in any case. He would freeze to death long before any of his concerns could come to pass. With chattering teeth he lamented his fate, still tossing back and forth.

“Human.” Grash’s voice disrupted his internal lamentations.

“What is it?” He asked through chattering teeth.

“Cold?” She asked.

“Freezing,” he answered miserably.

“Freezing?” She asked.

“Cold,” he answered.

There was a moment of silence, as if she was thinking something over. “Come.”

He rolled to his other side to look where he knew the orc lay. It was too dark to make out more than general shapes, but he could at least tell that she had risen from the ground.

“What?” He asked.

“Come,” she repeated, sounding impatient.

Curious how, even though he was miserable lying down, he was still reluctant to rise back up. But in the end he did and made his way over to the tall silhouette. “What is it?” he demanded, rubbing at his sides in a vain attempt to warm himself somewhat.

“Cloth away,” Grash said.

“Cloth… away?” He asked, trying to discern her meaning, but it quickly became clear when she pulled off the tatters of her tunic. “What are you doing?”

“Body warm. Cloth in way. Cloth away.” She pulled at his own clothing for emphasis. He swallowed. She wanted him to remove his clothes so they could warm each other. He remembered how warm her body had been when she carried him throughout the previous hours. But to lie naked with an orc? He had never even been with a woman before. Orcs weren’t like animals, but they weren’t really people either. If people heard about this, he would be shunned, wouldn’t he? His indecision lasted just a short moment. A stiff breeze found its way past the protection offered by their resting spot. He pulled off his cloak and his tunic, then hesitated. “All cloth,” Grash insisted and with a muttered curse, he pulled off his pants. His boots he left on.

Grash took the garments from him. The ripped cloak was laid on the ground as a makeshift blanket and she pulled him to the earth with her, his back to her front. “Oh by the gods,” he muttered as she pulled him close.

“What?” Grash demanded impatiently.

“You have… I thought you… Are you a…,” Oscar struggled to find the right words.

“What?” Grash demanded again, sounding more annoyed than impatient now.

“You have a cock!” Oscar stammered. There was no doubt about it. He had never been with a woman, that much was true. But still, he was very sure that women were not supposed to have what was now pressed tightly against the back of his thigh. “I thought you were a woman!”

It seemed to take Grash a moment to understand his trepidations, then she broke into a rare fit of throaty laughter. It vibrated all the way into her chest, which was pressed against his back. He tried to gain some distance, to reassess the situation, but Grash held him fast. Her arm, thick with sinew and muscle might as well have been a tree trunk for all the good his struggling did him. “Grash is orc,” She… he… it… declared.

“I thought you were a woman orc!” Oscar cried. Did the thing on his thigh just grow harder? Was that her plan all along? To violate him? Forget being shunned for lying naked with an orc. What would people say about a man sodomised by one?

“Humans,” Grash sneered, but sounded amused. “Orc is just orc. No man and woman.”

“You don’t have men and women?” He asked, so surprised by the declaration that he momentarily forgot about the imminent danger.

Grash pulled the rest of their combined discarded clothes over them to provide some additional protection from the elements. “No,” she declared. “Now rest. Tomorrow march.”

“You’re not gonna…?” He muttered in relief. He was still immensely uncomfortable with his vulnerable position and an orc with a cock glued to his back, but it seemed she didn’t mean to rape him after all.

Grash snorted a short burst of laughter and squeezed him tight, that was all. With that imminent danger not banished, but at least taking a smaller space in his thoughts, he could at last appreciate the furnace like heat the orc radiated. Already his back felt toasty warm where it had been clammy and cold moments earlier. His front, outside of where the orc’s heavy arm was draped over him, was still uncomfortably cold, but at least he didn’t feel like he would expire before the end of the night anymore.

As he thought over the revelation that there were no orcish men or women, something he had never paid any thought to and had never heard about before, he slowly felt drowsiness come over him at last. His nose picked out a peculiar smell, one at once familiar and foreign, pleasant and strange at once and somewhat comforting. Grash’s deep, regular breaths did their part, though her breast compressing against his back just a little more with every intake of breath caused a confused and shameful stirring in his loins.

---

“Awake?”

Oscar groaned and shivered. The warmth at his back had disappeared. He cracked open an eye and saw that the sun was barely starting to rise. Shadows still dominated their resting place, but he could see a bit clearer now than during the night. Grash stood just to the side of him, completely naked. The orc’s naked breasts reminded him of the shameful stirring in his loins the night before, but only until his eyes slipped lower. It hadn’t been a mistake. The orc doubtless had a cock. It hung thick and long between her muscular thighs. Or his muscular thighs? What was right? He’d been thinking of Grash as a woman all this time, but Grash didn’t seem to see the distinction. The rest of her body certainly more closely resembled a woman, even if he’d never seen a woman as tall or as strongly built as Grash.

“You like cock?” Grash asked.

“What?” He asked, then realised he’d been staring at it without saying a word. “No, of course not!” He quickly added after averting his gaze.

The orc let out a rumbling chuckle and picked her loincloth off from the pile of cloth still lying atop him. She tied it, finally hiding the monstrous appendage and Oscar dared turn his eyes towards Grash once more. He remembered how big her breasts had felt against his back, but then shook his head clear of the thought. He rose from his resting place and Grash returned the earlier favor, staring at him in return.

“You like cock?” He asked, hoping to make the orc equally as uncomfortable as she’d made him.

Instead, another chuckle rumbled in her chest. “Scrawny human,” she said, then bent over to retrieve her torn tunic and slip it on. Unhappy with her response, Oscar bent over to retrieve his own clothing. Even if he weren’t uncomfortable under Grash’s gaze, it was much too cold to stand around naked.

When they were done, they drank from the stream before making their way further down the slopes. Oscar was still hurting all over and he was dubious about how long he would be able to keep up with the orc, but didn’t want to beg to be carried again. At least not right away. He asked her about food, but she informed him, in her halting way, that they would have to descend further to find food. Of course, that left him less than happy, but since there was no other option, he followed the orc’s lead.

Grash was going first, finding the easiest way and he followed. That left him with little more to do than stare at her backside. Inevitably, his gaze would be drawn downwards, to the full cheeks not at all hidden by her loincloth, and the thick thighs beneath. They had been travelling together for weeks, but never before had he felt the desire to stare at the orc. From the way her body had felt against his the previous night, he could well imagine the muscle hidden underneath the dark green skin, but every step caused a faint jiggle. Every time he caught himself staring, he admonished himself and redirected his gaze away and yet, a few minutes later his eyes would be glued to her ass once more. He couldn’t figure out why. Surely, she was too tall and too muscular to be considered attractive, even if her curves now seemed strangely shapely to him.

The older men, back in the day, had sometimes said that when a man goes too long without sex, even the most unattractive woman starts to look good. Now Oscar had never had sex. Was that the reason?

“Human,” Grash said. Oscar cursed himself. Had she noticed his staring. “Stay.”

“Huh?” He wondered, but Grash had already gone off through a bush to the side of the path they’d been following.

It took a few minutes, but finally Grash returned with a handful of nuts clutched in her hands. “Eat,” she said.

He took one of them, surrounded by a hard shell. He looked for somewhere to jam a fingernail to pry it open, but couldn’t find anything. Grash made an annoyed sound. She took one of the nuts and bit down on it, cracking the shell. She spat it out and held it up to Oscar. He regarded it unhappily, but his growling stomach quickly decided the deal.

After eating, the two continued on their way in silence for a long while. “Human.” Grash eventually broke the silence.

“Yes?”

“Human tongue. Want to make better,” Grash explained.

“You want to improve the human language?” He asked. “Oh no, you mean you want to improve your speaking?”

“Improve, yes. You help.”

Oscar blinked a few times. He’d been lamenting his aching limbs, enough almost to distract him from staring at the orc. He’d taken it for granted that Grash spoke in broken, difficult to understand sentences. He hadn’t even considered that her speech might be improved. But how would be help her with that? Should he just speak with her? Correct her mistakes? Teach her proper sentences?

“Anything in particular you want to learn?” He wondered.

“No,” Grash said.

Grash’s request left Oscar with something to do. Something he had no experience at, but something to do nonetheless. A piece of leverage. Something to hold the orc’s interest. Something perhaps to reduce the odds she decided that the job was not worth her effort.

The rest of the day they spent walking, occasionally resting. Eventually Oscar couldn’t keep going and Grash carried him once more. He noted that the scrapes and bruises covering her skin seemed less so than they had the day before, which was impossible of course. When he asked the orc about this, she just said that orcs healed. When he insisted that humans also healed, but not at such a pace, she corrected herself and said that orcs healed good. Not like weak humans. He tried to accommodate her request to improve her speaking, but her terse way of speaking made that quite difficult. She didn’t seem fond of wasting words needlessly. All he felt he could do was correct her when she made mistakes and gently suggest she speak in more complete sentences. At the end of the day, Grash undressed once more and ordered him to do the same. He still felt very much uncomfortable about lying naked with Grash, especially with her large phallus nestled against his backside, but since the alternative was to be cold or even freeze, he acquiesced without argument. Once more the combination of the orc’s body heat, her even breathing and that same smell lulled him into a state of first relaxation and then sleep.

Over the course of the next week, they built a routine. There were still visible scrapes and bruises all over his body, but things didn’t hurt much anymore. Grash for her part looked like she’d never taken a tumble after a mere three days and often seemed annoyed at how slowly he was moving and how often he needed to take breaks to give his aching feet some rest. And though it was still strange to lie naked with the imposing orc every day, Oscar grew used to it far quicker than he would have anticipated.

After finally reaching the bottom of the valley, Grash’s scavenging for food grew much more successful, leaving their lack of proper protective clothing as Oscar’s biggest issue. Though naturally he’d have greatly preferred to have something else than bitter berries and nuts to eat. Meat was difficult to come by though and producing fire without tools and wet wood was a pointless endeavour, according to the orc. Not that she seemed particularly bothered by their lack of fire. At least Oscar could make use of the orc’s body heat every night in order to keep warm. Everything would have been fine if they’d kept to that routine, but of course something had to happen that threatened this fragile state of affairs.

It happened during the night following the ninth day since the attack on the pass. The night had started like all the ones before. Grash had removed her garments, shamelessly presenting her body, while he had tried to be a little more subtle about it. She had pulled his body close to her own and covered them with their discarded clothing. Her warmth, breathing and smell, because of course it was her smell, had lulled him into a somewhat restful slumber. Only he hadn’t slept until morning that time.

He was awoken in the middle of the night by heavy breathing from the orc. Her hips were moving back and forth and something heavy, hard and hot was sliding between his thighs. Her hot breath came throatily against his neck as he pretended to still be asleep still, mortified at what the orc that was not a woman was doing. She was sliding her hard cock between his thighs. She wasn’t fucking him, but it was about as close as it got without actually going through with it. His heart was hammering rapidly in his chest as the movements of Grash’s hips sped up. How could she possibly believe that he would sleep through this? Did she even care?

And yet he didn’t let on to the fact that he was awake. Instead, he was trying to figure out whether this was the first time the orc had done this. In spite of the time he spent alongside Grash, he still didn’t know all that much about orcs, other than that they were tall, strong, sometimes sold themselves as mercenaries and that, apparently, there were no female or male orcs. Humans and orcs generally did not live together and Grash was the first one he had ever interacted with. Did orcs regard humans as attractive?

His train of thought was derailed when Grash’s hips slapped against his hard enough to produce an audible slapping sound. Her breathing grew raspy and her movements turned twitchy. Moments later, an intense smell assaulted his nostrils and made his breath hitch. His body went rigid as he internalised that she’d just used him for her own satisfaction. An orc! He was outraged, but also afraid. What if Grash decided to do worse if he confronted her? What if she openly demanded he submit to her in exchange for her continued protection? Maybe it wasn’t her fault? Orcs weren’t quite people, right? Humans had self-control, but maybe she just couldn’t help herself and this was the most gentle way she could figure out to sate her needs? The orc adjusted their makeshift blankets as he felt the cock between his thighs soften and shrink and soon Grash’s breathing grew regular once more. Had she just gone back to sleep? She hadn’t even withdrawn her cock from between his thighs!

For the rest of the night he had a hard time falling asleep once more. He would’ve risen to make some distance between himself and the orc, but even asleep, there was no way for him to dislodge the arm holding him fast against her.

“Awake?”

His thighs were sticky when he rose from his resting place the next morning. “Yes,” he replied tersely.

“Good. We continue,” Grash said.

He looked to the spot just in front of where they’d rested. It was impossible not to see where Grash had spilled her seed. He turned to look at her, but her demeanour was just the same as always. She seized him up as he dressed, like she always did. She led the way like she always did. Scavenged for food when she saw an opportunity like she always did. Spoke in short sentences or single words like she always did. All day as they marched and he stared at her, trying to figure out what he should do. Clearly, Grash had crossed a line, but what could Oscar do about it? Without Grash, he would not leave the valley alive. He was worried what might happen if he confronted her and worried what might happen if he did not.

In any case, Grash continued acting like nothing had happened, even when it came time to turn in for the night. Oscar for his part was reluctant to cosy up to the orc like he happily had these last few days. Reluctant enough for Grash to ask what the matter was. He considered lying, telling her that it wasn’t that cold that night, but that would have been an obvious lie. In any case, he couldn’t make it through a night without the orcs' unnatural body heat at his back. Perhaps it had been a one-time occurrence? In the end, he gave in and allowed Grash to grasp him tightly just as she had all these previous nights.

To his relief, nothing happened that night and he dared to hope that it was a one-time occurrence indeed. Maybe the orc had been asleep? People sometimes sleep-walked, didn’t they? Maybe orcs rutted in their sleep?

Things changed again the following night. Oscar was once more awakened by the Orc’s rutting. And again the one after that and the one after that. Each time he pretended to be asleep, feeling awkward and worried about confronting her. Each time Grash finished only to go back to sleep and to pretend nothing had happened the next morning. And Oscar played along. He didn’t want her doing what she was doing, but if the alternative was to be alone here in the valley, it was acceptable. At least that’s what he told himself.

“There are tracks,” Grash said. It was the 16th day since the attack on the pass.

“Tracks?” He asked. “Of what?”

Grash considered him thoughtfully before squatting down and pointing to a clear footprint in the mud. “Orc,” she said.

“What makes you think it’s an orc?” He asked.

“Human walk with boots,” Grash explained.

“Oh,” he exclaimed. The footprint was of a naked foot. No sane human would be walking around this place without footwear. Humans generally didn’t walk these parts. “What should we do? Maybe we can get supplies from them?” If they could get some furs or a tent, maybe he would be able to keep his distance from his molester in the future.

“Hmmm,” Grash grumbled. “Maybe friendly. Maybe not.”

“And if they’re not friendly?”

Grash clicked her tongue. “Don’t matter.”

“What do you…?” He wondered, but was interrupted.

[You tread on our land stranger, who are you?] An orc, taller than Grash stepped from the brush, saying something in their unintelligible language.

[Grash,] Grash replied. [I am Makan on a job.] Grash pointed at him, making the tall orc look him up and down.

[Escorting a pink? What are you doing in the Hirpen Valley? This is no place for pinks.]

“What’s she saying?” Oscar asked.

“Quiet,” Grash growled, then continued in the other language. [We were attacked on the Shatter pass and made our way into the valley to escape pursuit. We are on our way to leave the valley.]

[That will be for the chief to decide.]

Grash growled and in response, another orc stepped from the bush to their front and another two emerged from their back.

“Fuck,” Oscar muttered. “How didn’t you notice them?”

“Quiet,” Grash said again. “Friendly, I think.”

[What are you saying?]

[Assuring the pink it’s not in danger.]

[That remains to be seen. Will you follow without argument?]

Grash nodded to the leader of this group and told Oscar. “We follow.”

Oscar was not sure whether he should be happy about this or not. On the one hand, they might be able to obtain some supplies; on the other hand they were now in the custody of armed orcs who were not being paid to safely conduct him to his destination. Then again, these were four armed orcs against Grash. He didn’t know how Grash ranked among her kind in terms of martial prowess, but those were surely poor odds.

[Did you know we were coming?] Grash was asking the lead orc something, who grunted in reply.

[A hunter noticed your tracks yesterday.]

Grash clicked her tongue. [The pink moves slowly.]

[Pinks are not suited to the valley. But I’ve seen worse than yours.]

[I thought pinks didn’t come here.]

[Not often.]

It took them about two hours of marching to reach the orcish settlement. It comprised two dozen huts built from wood and mud. If the inhabitants were surprised to see him, Oscar reckoned that they hid it well. Many didn’t spare a single glance their way, but a few of them stared quite intently, especially at him. He had noted it before, but these orcs were slightly different in skin tone than Grash. A much lighter green compared to the dark one that his guard featured. They were led into the center of the small settlement where a fairly large structure was built. A solid wood floor, support beams and a wooden roof, but no walls. A large chair stood in that structure upon which sat the biggest orc Oscar had yet laid eyes on.

Grash and him were brought before that chair and he guessed that one to be the orcish equivalent of a nobleman. He dropped to his knee, which caused a round of amused laughter from slowly assembling onlookers.

“Humans,” Grash muttered and pulled him back to his feet. “Chief. No need bow.”

[A well trained pet you have there, Makan.]

[An assignment.]

Oscar let out a frustrated sigh as he realised they would continue to talk in their unintelligible tongue.

[Yes, I see that much. What manner of assignment takes you to my lands?]

[We did not mean to enter the valley. We were forced from the pass. I am tasked with escorting this one to the pink town of Wertford.]

[I am not familiar. State your name!]

Grash raised her fists before her chest and struck them together once. [Makan Grash Nargol.]

[I have heard of Nargol and have no strife with them. I am Makana Garakh Shagar.] The orc on the large chair rose from her seat and mirrored Grash’s gesture, which seemed to please Grash. [What of your ward? Are they someone of note?]

[No.]

[Of note to you?] Grash shot him a sidelong glance from her deep amber eyes and he wondered what they were talking about.

[Hmmm.] Grash mumbled. [Delivering this pink is my sworn duty.]

[It does not seem resentful of you. Which means you’ve been fucking it for a while or you have not fucked it yet.]

[Must a Makan always fuck a pink it escorts?]

[Must, no,] the chief chuckled. [But if I wandered the wild with a delicate pink like that I would sow my seed in its soil.]

[Fair. It will be my Gilah, but I have chosen a patient way.]

[Meaning?]

[I take my pleasure from between its thighs at night while it pretends to sleep. Then I pretend ignorance during the day.]

The chief nodded sagely. [Not an unwise course if you wish it to slowly acclimate to your needs.]

“What is she saying?” Oscar whispered to Grash.

“We are discussing you, human,” the chief said without the hint of an accent. “You and Makan Grash’s task and how best they can accomplish it.”

“You speak the human tongue?” Oscar asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Of course, I was once Makan, like Grash. I travelled the world and amassed riches. Now I am Makana. Makana Karakh Shagar.”

“You intend to help us?” Oscar asked hopefully.

That caused Makana Karakh to chuckle, though Oscar could not figure out what could be funny about his question. “In a manner of speaking, human.”

[The pink requests assistance. I am of a mind to assist you in feeding it your seed. It pleases me to see an orc conquer a pink. But I am not certain I care to help you in your task, Makan Grash.]

[I have pink gold. Some supplies would be beneficial. A weapon would be appreciated.]

[Pink traders don’t come here, so their coin is worthless to us. Ore is difficult to come by, so weapons are precious to us. If the pink were broken in, you could have traded a night with my people for some supplies, but as it is, I don’t care for wailing and weeping. You do not have anything of worth to us.]

[I could swear an oath to assist a Shagar Makan in need.]

Makana Garakh sighed then let her sharp gaze wander over from Grash to Oscar. Then she chuckled. [Very well, your oath in exchange for a fur and a spearhead. And tonight you will take the next step with your pink. I want to see how it reacts.]

[It’s still too early to…]

[Yes, yes, you don’t want it to be resentful. You don’t have to fuck it. But don’t let it pretend to sleep anymore. And acquaint it with the taste. I will ask the pink about it tomorrow.]

“Tomorrow they give fur and spear,” Grash informed him.

“Thank you, Makana Garakh,” Oscar said sincerely. He was about to bow, but didn’t want Grash to be annoyed with him again.

“Yes, I wish you much enjoyment of the bargain,” Garakh said. “Tonight, I will arrange for you to enjoy the privacy of a cabin.”

Privacy! At long last Oscar would get to enjoy a night in private. And in a cabin. Things had turned out so much better than he would’ve thought.

---

Privacy! Oscar had expected privacy and yet here Grash was in the small cabin that had been vacated for him. Or had it been vacated for them? No matter, he decided. He’d had warm food for the first time in weeks and was about to go to sleep with a roof over his head and on something other than the cold ground. It was not freezing cold in the cabin either, so there was no need to cosy up to Grash, at least for this one night. There was only one bed in the small cabin, which wasn’t ideal, but it was big enough for him to keep a small distance from her.

He removed his cloak, tunic and boots, but kept his pants on for added safety as he made his way into the bed. Grash clearly did not share in his compunctions, as she fully disrobed like she always did. Even without Grash in it, it had to be said that the bed smelled of orc. Quite intensely even, but it was a smell he was used to now. There was even something nice about the smell, though he would never admit to that. If someone had told him a week before his departure from home that he would soon be happy to sleep in an orc’s bed, he’d have laughed at them.

As he tucked himself in, Grash didn’t even try to move in close. It was admittedly strange how this was now a deviation from the norm, but Oscar didn’t let that bother him as he quickly drifted off to sleep.

Only he did not manage a night of uninterrupted sleep. Of course he did not. Why would Grash have taken a break from using him for her pleasure when they were still sharing the same bed. He was jostled awake in the middle of the night. His pants had been moved down to his ankles and Grash was behind him, her turgid rod sliding between his thighs as it did every night.

“Awake?” The orc asked. Oscar stopped breathing. That was not the same as every night. “Awake?” The orc asked again. Her mouth was so close to the back of his neck that her tusks lightly grazed it. “Know you awake,” the orc added.

“How?” He asked. He hadn’t done anything differently from usual.

A rumbling chuckle vibrated in the orc’s chest. “Awake every night.”

She had known. She had known all along. Of course she had known. How could she not have. What person could have slept through that? “Why say something tonight?” He asked.

“Used to it now,” Grash said. “Good human let me enjoy.”

So his silence had only encouraged her. She withdrew her cock from between his thighs and pulled his pants the rest of the way off his ankles. “Oh gods no,” he begged. “You’re going to kill me.”

Grash clicked her tongue. “No hurt you. No fuck you. No ready.”

Immense relief spread through him and immediately vanished when she grasped his ankles, turned him onto his back and bent his legs upwards. Her free hand roughly grabbed at his side and kneaded his hips, all while she let out throaty growls. “You said you weren’t going to…”

“Will not fuck. Not tonight,” Grash said. “But no pretend sleep tonight.”

She slid her large cock between his thighs. With him on his back, she was also rubbing herself against his own cock, which to his dismay was hard. “I can’t be aroused by this,” he cried.

“Quiet. Arouse good. Human good. Human enjoy.”

“But I’m a man, this is wrong!”

Grash clicked her tongue. “I am orc. Man, woman. Matter not.”

She put his legs over her shoulders and began to grind her hips back and forth. One of her arms was lashed around his legs, keeping them in place, while the hand on the other roughly rubbed at one his nipples. Oscar should have been horrified. He should have been disgusted. But as he lay in that musky bed, seeing Grash’s piercing amber eyes stare at him, he was not. Her cock rubbing against his own should not have made him hard, but it did. When she leaned forward against his legs, bending him over until his knees were just above his head, he should have been afraid, but he wasn’t. When his eyes swivelled down to see the thick, green cock grind back and forth between his legs, the slit on the head yawning open, his own cock should not have throbbed, but it did. And when she grunted and spilled an unholy quantity of hot, slimy seed all over his stomach and chest, he should have been well and truly disgusted. But as the peculiar smell hit his nostrils, his heart simply beat faster and he returned to staring open mouthed at Grash who was breathing hard and looking very satisfied.

She released her hold on his legs and spread them to each side instead, inspecting her work. She slapped her still hard cock against his own a few times and grunted in satisfaction. Then she scooped two fingers through the sticky mess coating his stomach and brought that hand up to his face.

“What?” He asked, staring wide eyed at the cum-covered digits.

“Eat,” Grash declared. “Good for human.”

“What? How?” He demanded.

Grash clicked her tongue and simply rubbed the stained fingers first against his lips and then against his teeth until they parted. Her seed was bitter and made Oscar shudder. In turn, this caused a rumbling chuckle to emanate from the orc. She withdrew her fingers and scooped up more of the mess she made and held it up to his face once more. He’d have thought that with the seed staining his body, having it that little bit closer to his nose wouldn’t have made a big difference, but somehow it still did. As the, by now, familiar smell wafted intensely into his nostrils, he felt lightheaded.

“Open,” Grash demanded. “Better if you willing. But can make you.” He pursed his lips. It was clear that she could and would. He squinted at the cum stained digits. He should be disgusted, but he wasn’t. There was a small part even that knew she wouldn’t stop until he’d ingested her whole load and was waiting for her to do it. When she crinkled her brow in impatience, he finally opened his mouth and allowed her digits into his mouth to smear her cum all over his tongue. “Tell me taste.”

“The taste?” He asked when she withdrew her finger.

“Taste good?” She asked.

‘Of course not’, he could’ve said. ‘It’s disgusting’, he should’ve said. He didn’t say any of that. “It’s bitter,” he said instead.

“Hmmm,” she grumbled. She brought her finger up to her own face and touched it with the tip of her tongue. She thought it over for a moment, then shrugged and returned to scooping the sloppy mess into his mouth. “You learn to like,” she promised.

In that moment, the thought that worried him was not the implied promise that she would feed him her seed until he enjoyed it. What worried him was that he believed her that he would grow to like it. Just like he’d grown to like her musky smell and grown to like her holding him from behind. At least until she’d started rutting him.. “You will do this again, won’t you?” He asked during a short break.

“Yes,” she growled. “Every night now.”

“Why?” He asked.

She chuckled with that rumble in her chest. “Pretty human.”

“But you were paid to conduct me safely to Wertford,” he complained. “Not to…”

“Can do both,” Grash declared. “Bring you safe and both like.”

“Both like?” He demanded. “You mean we will both enjoy it?”

“Enjoy, yes. You will enjoy,” Grash promised. “Human make good bed friend for orc. Learned from,” she looked for the right word, then said it in her tongue. “Learned from [sire].”

“You’re going to break me if you ever actually try to… Try to…,” he couldn’t quite bring himself to say it out loud.

Grash clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Orc also good bed friend for human. [Sire] told Grash human always like orc. Like seed, like [musk]. Like cock.”

“What’s [musk]?” He asked, ignoring her promise he would enjoy her cock.

“Is…,” Grash struggled with the words. “Is smell. Orc smell.”

“Orc smell?” He asked and she nodded.

“Orc smell make human feel good,” Grash said confidently, then held up fingers stained with cum once more. “Seed good for human.”

He looked doubtfully at the off-white slime covering her fingers, but opened his mouth nonetheless. That she would be feeding it to him until it was all gone seemed a foregone conclusion, even if he didn’t buy her story of it being good for him. But what she said about her smell, that musky smell couldn’t be denied. The very first night he had noted it. Noted it when in the weeks before he never once had. That smell that was at once strange and familiar and undeniably pleasant. It, along with her body warmth, had conducted him to sleep these last few weeks. The furs he was laying on were saturated with the smell. “Grash? Does orc smell make humans…” he struggled to find the right words. “Does it make humans feel strange. Or act strange?”

Another rumbling chuckle. “Humans always act strange.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he insisted.

“Humans like orc smell. Don’t know about act strange. Now eat!” She ordered.

---

“You smell right, human,” Makana Garakh said, mirroring that same rumbling chuckle that Grash was increasingly fond of using. “Have you enjoyed the last night?”

“What do you mean?” Oscar asked as he felt his face grow hot all over in a vain attempt to salvage some of his dignity.

“Makan Grash gave you their seed, yes?”

“I… I mean… That is… Why…?” he asked, flustered. “Why would that matter?”

“Because I enjoy to see you flustered,” the chief said, then continued. “You smell like a proper orc’s [Gilah] now.” She audibly pulled in air through her nostrils. “So tell me, how did you enjoy it? And be honest if you don’t want to stir my anger.”

He bit his lip and threw a glance at Grash who seemed impassive. “It was… not as bad as I’d have thought.”

“Good,” Garakh said. “Soon you will enjoy it. Savor it even, I promise.” The chief turned to Grash and then continued in that tongue Oscar couldn’t understand. [You’ve made much progress in one night, Makan Grash. It pleases me.]

[Your council was wise, Makana Garakh. The pink is beginning to accept its place, but it fears I will injure it when I claim my price.]

[A valid concern. In humans, the females have the suitable parts. Human asses struggle to accommodate our kind. At least they do at first. Take it slow and be mindful of the pink’s discomfort when you first fuck it. If you do it will soon beg for you to take it harder.]

[My gratitude for your council, Makana Garakh.]

“What did she say?” Oscar wondered.

“How Grash and human proceed,” Grash explained.

“How will we get out of the valley?”

“Hmm,” Grash grumbled.

[The exit pass is eight day’s travel to the south of here. More at a pink’s pace. After that, turn east to find a pass north through the mountain. When you find the pass, you must first go south. You’ll find a pink trading place where your coins will buy what you need.]

[I know the peaks, but thank you,] Grash grumbled.

[Good. Then I await the day one of our Makan returns with a story of how Makan Grash Nargol rendered aid.]

[It will be done.] Grush turned to him and said. “We go now, human.”

“What did she say?” He wondered. “How long until we’re out of the valley? And thank you, Makana Garakh. Thank you for the fur and the spearhead.”

The orc chief just waved them off as Grash pulled him along, out of the small orc settlement. “10 days, maybe 12 to pass out of valley,” Grash informed him.

“And after that?” He wondered.

“Trade supplies. Then take pass north. Finish job.”

“How long will that take us?”

The orc shrugged. “60 days, maybe 80.”

Oscar cursed under his breath. That was a good deal longer than he’d hoped. But considering they had still had two weeks in front of them when the left the Shatter pass and all the time they’d spent moving south now, it didn’t seem so unreasonable.

At least the next 11 days were more comfortable than the days that had come before. The fur they had received was big enough to wrap all the way around the both of them, making the nights much more pleasant than before. Though there was the matter of course of Grash keeping her word. Every night she would rub herself against him and cover him in her sticky seed and finally feed it to him afterwards. Sometimes she did it like she’d done that night in the cabin, with him on his back. Other times she had him lie on his front so she could drag her thick meat through the cleft of his butt until she covered his back in her warm slime. But it wasn’t all bad, he told himself. At least he got something resembling a warm meal out of the deal every day. And much as he was loath to admit it, her prediction that he wouldn’t mind it before long also turned true. Some evenings he even found himself looking forward to it. There was something that seemed normal now about the large woman - or rather - orc, atop him. And her seed, it was bitter still, but he thought there was a hint of something more there as well. A taste he hadn’t noticed at first. Something almost sweet. Grash also didn’t interrupt his nightly rest to sate her lust anymore. Instead she gave him his unusual meal every night as they got ready to rest, just before clutching him tight to herself to rest.

He felt relief when they finally left the Hirpen Valley behind, though there was still a great distance between himself and Wertford. From the pass leading out of the valley, they headed eastwards and then south until they came across a trading post manned by the first humans Oscar had seen in weeks. They were an unfriendly bunch and close to openly hostile towards Grash, but the orc didn’t seem to let that bother her. While she haggled for supplies with a trader, an armed man took him aside to ask their business. He seemed dubious when he told him that they were heading to Wertford, but told him that it was his business if he consorted with non-humans. Though he suggested, with no small amount of disdain, that Oscar better take a bath if he planned to be in contact with other humans again. Oscar could only hope that the man didn’t know or guess at what was happening between Grash and him every night.

Following their resupply, the two headed for another pass through the Bleak Peaks, one Grash claimed she knew well enough and would lead them north of the mountain range and into more civilised areas within 25-30 days. The pass was not much different from the Shatter pass they had passed through weeks earlier, only that they were alone this time around. Oscar felt he was overall in much worse shape than he had been on the Shatter pass, courtesy of a few weeks of privations and poor diet, but at least he didn’t freeze in the night. The cloak Grash had gotten him to replace his ripped and tattered one also helped a great deal during the day.

They were about three quarters of the way through the pass when Grash startled him from his thoughts with one of her exclamations of “Human!” Only she sounded alarmed this time.

The source of her alarm became obvious a minute later. “Well, well. Who’d have thought it, but the boss was right,” a man who’d come out of hiding behind a bend in the way said.

“Young man travelling with one of them green beasts. Shame we missed you on the Shatter pass,” said a second man, following the first.

“Shatter pass?” Oscar asked, feigning ignorance.

“Gotta work on that poker face, boy,” a third man said. “You’re not much of a liar.”

Grash let out a threatening growl and hefted the spear she’d received from the orcs. “Whoa, whoa, calm,” the first man exclaimed. “We just want the boy and the message he’s carrying. No need to get bloody, beast.”

“What message?” Oscar insisted.

“Shut up, boy,” the first man said. “You can hand it over and we’ll make it quick. Or you make us work for it and it won’t be over quick.”

“Fool humans,” Grash spat and stepped in front of Oscar. “Stay back!” She ordered him.

One of the men, the first one Oscar thought, sighed. “So be it. Guess we gotta butcher us some orc first.”

“Are you sure you can take them?” Oscar asked. Of course, the unspoken part of the question was what they could do if she could not. The path was no more than six strides across and there was no ravine this time, just a sheer drop. Surely, Grash could outrun these men, but Oscar probably could not. But a fight was fraught with risk. They were well equipped with shields. Two of them wore short swords, while one of them had a spiked mace.

“They die,” Grash commented confidently.

“We’ll see about that, you damn orc bitch,” one of the men, the one with the mace, cried and stormed forward.

Too quickly for the man to counteract her, Grash swept his legs out from under him with her spear and stomped on his skull when he fell. “Fucking idiot,” one of the men cursed. “We’ll take her together, cover each other.”

The remaining two men came on more slowly, covering each other with their shields. Grash tried to poke at their legs, but got her spear caught and snapped off. Muttering orcish curses under her breath, she slowly retreated as the two men slowly advanced, poking their short swords out from behind their shields and trying to cut at her green flesh. Her heavy vambraces caught every attempt she didn’t evade outright, but the orc struggled to get a counterattack in.

Oscar bit his lip. He was no fighter, that much was clear. But if the orc fell, he was just as done for as she was. He looked around for anything that might help them, but came up short until his eyes fixed on a rock sized slightly larger than his fist. That could do some damage, couldn’t it? He took a few steps back and picked it up as Grash continued her slow retreat. Just a bit further and the path would widen slightly. Perhaps enough to give the two men the chance to come at her from both sides. He nervously sucked at his gums as he took aim. Grash and the two men all seemed fully occupied with one another and none of them paid him any heed. He pulled his arm back for a throw, timing it to the moment when the right-most man opened his guard slightly to poke out his short blade.

The rock flew past Grash, just below the shield and struck the man in the thigh. He cried out in surprise and took a stumbling step back. He didn’t seem hurt, but he was distracted at least. The cover the two men had given each other was broken momentarily. Grash stormed forward with a wild cry on her lips and slammed into the other man’s shield, who bellowed as he braced against her, but was barreled over by her bulk nonetheless. He stumbled and unsuccessfully tried to catch himself. The last thing Oscar saw of him were his wide eyes as he went over the edge. His fearful scream was heard for much longer than that.

The last remaining man had caught himself and he stabbed his sword at Grash, who twisted out of the way before going low and kicking the side of the man’s knee. He cried out in pain and went down. Grash was upon him in an instant. Her knee kept his shield and the arm strapped to it tied against his body while her left hand kept his sword arm secure. Her right fist smashed into his face, once, twice, three times. Blood was pouring out of the man’s smashed nose and he groaned in pain. Without missing a stride, Grash then flung him off the edge of the cliff and went for where the last remaining man lay groaning on the path ahead.

“Wait!” Oscar shouted before she could kill him as well. “We should find out why they were waiting for us.”

“To kill,” Grash snarled. She picked up the man’s dropped mace and smashed it into his face with a resounding crunch. She slid the shield off his arm and roughly parted the man from all his worldly possessions before flinging him down the cliff after his companions. “Are you fine?” Grash asked.

“Of course I’m fine, what about you?”

“I will heal,” she assured him.

She turned and he saw the bloody cut across her stomach. “You’re injured!” He cried and came forward.

Grash clicked her tongue. “First find camp, then treat wound,” she decided and pushed him away. He bit his lip, but decided to obey her decision. “Take stuff,” Grash said, pointing to the man’s possessions she’d removed. “Better than your stuff,” she added.

Did she want him to take the dead man’s clothing? That was… that was wrong, right? He looked to her, wanting to verify, but her impatient look told him everything he needed to know. With a bad conscience, he quickly dug through the man’s meagre possessions. His boots were better than his own had been, even before trudging through the Hirpen Valley for weeks, as were the man’s other clothes. They were all a little too big for him, but could probably serve him well. “Are you sure? Robbing the dead?”

“Humans!” Grash growled impatiently. “Dead have no need of stuff. Better take from dead than living.”

That was hard to argue with, but it still felt wrong. Still, he gathered up the man’s possessions and righted himself. He’d left the shield and mace for Grash as she would certainly be able to make better use of it than he ever could.

They continued walking the path ahead until they came across a wider section of trail. “At least they didn’t shoot us with arrows this time,” he said, trying to make himself feel better about what had just happened.

“Yes,” Grash agreed calmly. Her right fist was bloody, as was her new mace. He had known that she was strong and had reasonably assumed her capable of violence, she was a hired sword after all, a Makan as her people said. But this was still the first time he’d seen her fight. In fact, outside of the ambush on the Shatter pass, of which he had not seen much, this was the first fight he’d ever been a part of. “Human quiet,” Grash commented as they made their way to a small campsite consisting of three small tents and a tiny pile of supplies. Oscar didn’t reply, but she didn’t let up. She took the pile of the deceased man’s possessions from his arms and dropped them in a heap next to one of the small tents. “Why quiet?”

“I’m not quiet,” Oscar said defensively.

She took a step toward him and he couldn’t help but take a step backwards. A rumbling chuckle emerged from Grash’s throat. “Human scared of fight?”

“Of course I’m scared of a fight,” he admitted defensively. “We could’ve been killed!”

“Is ok, Grash is good fighter,” she assured him. “Will protect human.”

“I know,” he said. She was hired and sworn to see him safely to Wertford. There was no reason to fear her. “You’re wounded,” he repeated his earlier observation.

“Yes,” Grash agreed, examining the cut across her toned stomach. “But will heal.”

“Will it heal quick?”

“Yes.” Grash regarded him for a moment through her amber eyes. “Human can help heal.”

“I can?” He asked, surprised. He had no idea how to treat a wound. “How?”

“Human can lick.”

“Lick?”

She clicked her tongue and took a step toward him. “Human can lick wound.”

“And how would that help?”

“Don’t matter,” Grash declared. She quickly removed the tattered remains of her tunic and took another step forward. “Will human lick?”

Oscar licked his lips as he looked uncertainly between Grash’s hungry eyes and the bloody cut across her stomach. “You could try calling me by my name first?”

Grash clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Human work good.”

“But my name is just as easy to say,” Oscar insisted. If he was being honest, always being referred to as ‘Human’ was getting kind of tired.

She clicked her tongue again. “Too early. Now, will human lick?”

He pursed his lips, but then nodded his head. “Human will lick. I mean, yes, I will.”

Grash grunted in satisfaction and laid her big hand on his head. To his relief, she used the one that was not stained in the blood of a dead man. With gentle, but insistent force, she pushed him downward until he was eye level with her muscular stomach. “Lick!” She ordered.

He was all too aware of the heavy, musky scent emanating from just a little further down and it made him feel light-headed. It also made his trepidations of what had just happened seem less important. His tongue snaked out and made contact with the orc’s dark blood. A heavy metallic taste filled his mouth immediately and Grash pushed him closer against her. He was used to her smell, of course. He was lying with her every night after all, but he couldn’t recall ever having his nose this close to what obviously seemed to be the source and it made his head swim and his cock grow hard in spite of everything that had just happened. Breathing heavily, he dragged his tongue all the way across the bloody cut. Grash let out a hiss even as the metallic taste overwhelmed his sense of taste.

“Good human,” she growled. “Save humans life.”

Oscar momentarily stopped licking at her wound and looked up to her staring down from beyond her breasts. “You did. You saved my life today. I’m sorry, I haven’t even said thank you.”

“Is okay human. Will reward?”

“Reward? What can I do to reward you?”

“You can lick,” Grash growled lustfully. Oscar’s gaze dropped back to the cut across her stomach that still bled lightly. “Not lick wound,” Grash clarified. Her free hand pulled on her loincloth and released her cock. “I want you lick cock. Like cock.”

Oscar stared at it wide eyed. All these weeks of her sating her desires, but this was the first time he’d come face to face with it like this. Saliva collected in his mouth as the potent musk of her lust assaulted his senses. “Lick your cock?” He asked uncertainly.

Grash’s hand on his head pushed him further down and his cheek was pressed against the quickly hardening cock. He took a deep, inadvertent breath and shuddered and moaned as her musk assaulted his senses. “Yeesss,” Grash moaned when he opened his mouth and slid his lips along the pulsing length. She released her hold on his head and instead softly laid her large hand on his shoulder.

In response, he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her muscular ass with that tantalising bit of softness to it and pressed his face into her groin as hard as he could manage. His tongue snaked out and probed at her sweaty skin, seeking it out. His tongue danced across the skin of her sack, testing the weight of her heavy orbs. All the while he continued breathing deep through his nose, enjoying the intoxicating musk. He was shivering, but not from the cold. In fact, he was feeling hot all over.

A rumbling chuckle could be heard coming from Grash as he slobbered all over her balls. “You like cock?” She asked. “Like nuts?”

He interrupted his worship, for what else could you call it and stared up at her with wide eyes. “Yes,” he admitted.

“Good. Lick tip.” She grasped his shoulder and pushed him away from her groin until the full length of her rod was in his field of vision. It was so long and thick he almost developed second thoughts. Yet before he could begin to worry, she angled her hips and pushed forward, pushing the wide flared tip against his quickly parting lips and slipping the first bit of her sweaty rod into his mouth. Following her demand, he flicked and licked at the wide tip with his tongue. Already she filled most of his mouth and yet two thirds of her rod were still outside his mouth. Mild worry returned to the forefront of his thoughts as Grash gyrated her hips forward, sinking a few more centimeters of her meat into his mouth and poking at his throat. “Take easy today, no throat,” the orc said, perhaps conscious of his fears. “Make me cum, human.” He pulled back his head and slid forward again, the rich aroma overwhelming his taste buds and her musk still scrambling his thoughts. He kneaded at her strong butt, using the leverage to pull himself onto her rod with every movement forward. “Finger in cunt,” Grash growled as he felt her hips tremble.

“Hurgh?” He produced a strangled sound through the thick obstruction in his mouth.

Instead of answering, Grash took one of his hands and guided it between her legs where, hidden behind her heavy sack, there was a wet slit. From the beginning, Grash had said that orcs had no men or women. It seemed logical now, but it had never occurred to Oscar that that could mean that they had both parts. “Fingers in cunt,” Grash repeated and Oscar slipped his thumb into the hot and wet slit. His thumb worked in and out of her as he continued slipping her meat in and out of his mouth. His own cock was painfully hard, but when his remaining free hand slipped down to stroke himself, Grash forced his hand away with her food and declared. “Focus on me!” Unable to defy her demand in his current state, Oscar wrapped that hand around the long piece of orc cock he couldn’t fit into his mouth and squeezed and stroked it instead. “Yes. Yes. Ready,” Grash growled. Her slit tightened and squeezing around his intruding thumb was his first clue of what was coming. The next was the hand that took a tight hold of the back of his head and the third was the opening of the flood gates.

[Fucking good pink. Take it all!] Grash bellowed in her orcish tongue as an enormous quantity of hot orc spunk came crashing into his mouth. Oscar knew from daily experience how much Grash could spurt on a single release. He’d been fed with it every day for the past few weeks after all, but that still didn’t prepare him for the volume and pressure with which it came out. Some of it he managed to swallow. Far more spurted out the sides of his mouth and out his nose. A small, but still unfortunate quantity made its way into his windpipe and made him cough and spurt around the orc’s fat cock. He could feel the powerful orc tremble as she held him fast and declared her conquest with lusty bellows.

It was only after he started to develop serious worries that she might end up drowning him in her release that she finally shot her last few ropes into his overful mouth. Her strong hand finally released its hold on him and Grash dropped back onto her ass, breathing hard while he stayed kneeling where we had been, hacking coughs as little spittles of her cum flew from his mouth.

“Swallow seed best,” Grash declared as she leaned back, propped on her elbows. “Come here, humans turn.”

“What?” He asked, still not all the way there again.

“Human fling seed now,” Grash explained, beckoning him with a finger. He stared at her groin, covered in the backwash of slimy seed steaming in the cold air. Of course he was also covered in it, though not as much as she was. He considered his own painfully erect cock. He wasn’t as horny anymore as he had been just a moment earlier, but he still felt an overwhelming desire to drain himself. He hadn’t done it during all this time, not once. “Come,” Grash beckoned again and Oscar complied. He laid between the orc's strong legs and began lapping at the seed staining her cock, her sack, her mons and her thighs. The smell of her musk was weaker now, but still intense. He began to stroke himself as Grash stroked his head. “Is good?”

He looked at her, grinning down at him and nodded. “It’s great.”

She let out one of her rumbling chuckles. “I know, but good you are honest.”

He hummed his assent and continued his work cleaning the orc of her own seed, stroking himself all the while. Eventually, his breathing became hitched and his hips twitched as he spilled his load all over the ground. Even then he didn’t stop. He only did when Grash was clean and she had similarly cleaned him of what she had spilled onto him. Then she pulled him forward and laid his head against her chest, a satisfied vibration rumbling against his ear.

“Did I do good?” He wondered.

“Hahaha.” An actual bit of laughter rolled out of Grash, rather than the usual chuckle. “Human need practice. But human do very good.”

“Practice,” he muttered. “I guess I’m gonna get a lot of that?”

“Yes,” Grash confirmed. “Much practice. Good for both.”

His eyes felt heavy and he closed them. Another rumbling laughter came from the orc and she picked him up, slid him into one of the small tents. He could hear her tamper around with their things outside before she slid into the tent after him. She had their fur with her and wrapped them up in it. For once, she was not glued to his backside, but instead they were front to front, with Grash lying on her back and him lying on top of her. Even so the tent was a tight fit as they spent the rest of the day and the coming night together.

---

The next 25 days were filled with a great deal of practice indeed. Owing to Grash’s persistent desire to see the full length of her cock disappear between his lips, his throat had endured a good deal of discomfort in the course of these days. And yet, just as often as it was Grash who pushed him to his knees, it was him who pulled away her loincloth and eagerly sank his face into the orc’s musky groin. Every now and again, she would even reward his efforts by lifting his hips up to her face and swallowing his own erect prick. That always left her tusks poking into his soft skin, but the pleasure her rough tongue provided was easily worth any little bit of discomfort.

Ever since he’d submitted to her in this way, she’d also become a little more talkative, which in turn had helped a great deal when it came to Grash speaking more complete sentences. In that way perhaps there was something permanent the Makan would have gained from this job.

As they left behind the bleak peaks and Wertford came ever closer, Oscar increasingly found himself wondering what was coming next. He could still feel Lord Ingel’s letter in the secret sewn-in pocket of his tunic. He sincerely hoped that the contents were worth all the hardships and deprivations he had endured. Would he be rewarded for a job well done? Punished for his long delay? How would he return back home? And what would Grash do once her job was completed? Find the next employer? How would he even return home all on his own? Not questions he had answers for just yet.

Of course, he could’ve asked Grash what she planned to do next, but he was worried what she might say. He was afraid she might say she would leave without him, but was also worried what would happen if she insisted he had to stay with her.

If he was honest, he didn’t want to part with the orc. He had grown fond of her and what they did together. But he was also fearful of permanently parting with human society. He would have to, wouldn’t he? Who had ever heard of a human and an orc being together? The orcs in the valley hadn’t thought it strange at least, but they could never live together in a human town. Orcs were tolerated more than welcomed and even that only if they had business or brought business.

For her part, Grash herself grew more terse and quiet during the last days prior to their arrival in Wertford. She never ended up taking things all the way with him, like he had always feared and later started to anticipate.

The day before their arrival in the city, Grash located a pond which they used to clean themselves before entering the city. Remembering the words of the armed man at the trading post, Oscar was very glad of that fact. Smelling like Grash would have been a poor look for a messenger in the service of Lord Ingel.

“This is it?” He wondered as he stood in front of a large estate with Grash at his side.

“This is it,” Grash confirmed. “By directions we got.”

He made his way over to the two armed and armoured men standing guard on each side of the main gate. They stepped into his path and one of them demanded harshly. “Who are you? Lord Marsen has nothing to offer to a beggar.”

“I am no beggar,” Oscar insisted. “I hail from Silgam and have gone through great pains to deliver an important message from my master Lord Ingel to yours.”

“Lord Ingel?” One of them asked suspiciously. “Off with you boy, or we’ll throw you in the cells. Lord Ingel has been in the city for weeks.”

“What?” Oscar demanded. That couldn’t be. Why would Lord Ingel have him sent if he planned to go himself? Of course he was late, but he wasn’t that late, was he? “Where can I find Lord Ingel?”

The men looked him over, still suspicious, but gave him directions nonetheless. They were probably just happy to be rid of the shabby looking man with the imposing orc lurking at his back.

They followed the directions given by the men and found themselves in front of a much smaller, but still luxurious mansion not that much later. Showing the guards at the entrance the seal on the letter he carried allowed them access to the mansion, but still they were made to wait for multiple hours secluded to a room with guards waiting outside to make sure they did not wander about.

Grash exuded a nervous energy, bobbing her leg up and down while letting her unhappy gaze roam all around the room constantly. He’d never once seen the orc nervous and it made him anxious in turn. He caught her looking at him occasionally, though she refused to meet his eyes when he noticed and returned her stare.

“Who are these two, then?” A bored looking Lord Ingel asked when they were finally escorted before him. The fat man was flanked by a man thin as a reed. Oscar remembered him. Lord Ingel’s retainer who had handed him the letter and who had introduced him to Grash. The man bent at the waist to whisper into the lord’s ear. “They are?” Lord Ingel asked with his forehead wrinkled in thought. “I did? Oh, I suppose I did.”

“Lord Ingel,” Oscar said. “If you will permit me. Your man ordered me to carry this message on your behalf to Lord Marsen in all secrecy, but when I arrived I learned that you had arrived in Wertford some weeks ago.”

“You dare address me, you buffoon? You were sent months ago. To think you have the gall to come before me now!”

“We were waylaid on the road, my Lord. We took great pains to ensure the safe delivery of the message. Without Makan Grash, this mission would have failed and the message would have fallen into the hands of your enemies!”

The thin man bent down again to whisper in Lord Ingel’s ear, but the fat man waved his hand dismissively. “Very well. I commend you on your work and all of that. You are dismissed and free to return to your service as a… as a…. What is your profession, peasant?”

“I am a servant in one of your estates, my lord,” Oscar explained.

“A simple servant, Charles?”

“You said expendable, my lord,” the thin man explained quietly and Oscar gulped heavily.

“You…,” he started, but was interrupted by Grash stepping up from behind him.

“I am owed a fee,” she said clearly.

“A servant and a savage mercenary,” Lord Ingel said with some amusement. “I appreciate your sense of humour, Charles. Very well savage, you shall have your fee. Charles, see to it and then conduct them out of my estate. The stink offends me.”

The thin man bowed and snapped his finger at one of the guards flanking the room. They exchanged a quick word and the guard left, only to return with a small purse a short while later. He handed it to Grash, who took it without looking inside and turned to leave. Oscar wanted to argue, to beg, to understand what the thin man had meant by ‘expendable’, but he realised there were no answers to be gained here. He bowed to Lord Ingel and turned to follow after the tall orc, his worries about the future only growing.

“What will human do now?” Grash asked when they were outside the mansion once more.

“I don’t know,” Oscar replied honestly. “What will you do now, Grash?”

“Go to Makan house. Make preparations.” She nodded to him and stalked off.

He looked after her with his mouth open. He hadn’t been sure how this moment would go. He had imagined Grash telling him they were finished. That she’d had his fun, but was done with him now. He had imagined her telling him that he was hers and she wouldn’t take no for an answer. He had wondered if he would have received new orders from Lord Marsen or from Lord Ingel. None of these things had come to pass. Now he had nothing and he was stranded in an unfamiliar town in an unfamiliar part of the world with a master who made it clear he didn’t care.

He took a few steps away from the mansion to avoid the guards with the hostile stares resorting to more than staring to get him to move along and then just kept going aimlessly.

A few hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, he was sitting alone in a small park, trying to ignore the feeling of being out of place with all the well-dressed people. His stomach was growling as he hadn’t had something to eat yet that day and he realised that he wouldn’t either. He didn’t have any money. He’d lost what he had during the ambush on the Shatter pass and Grash was the only one out of the two of them who had gotten paid.

He’d been playing with the thought of inquiring after this ‘Makan house’ the orc had mentioned. It was probably a place for orc mercenaries. Either that or a place people could go to hire one. He’d never heard of such a place, but Wertford was a much bigger town than Silgam. How would Grash react if he came to her now, begging her to take care of him? He’d thought her fond of him, but then she’d just left him.

What other option did he have? He could give begging a shot, but he hadn’t seen any beggars while he wandered through the town. Meaning that this town had no beggars or they were harshly dealt with.

“HUMAN!” He suddenly heard a familiar, loud and somewhat angry sounding call.

His head shot up and he scanned the park until he saw a large, green and angry looking orc stalking its way over to him. The other visitors of the park took care to avoid Grash’s path, but angry muttering followed her until she stood before him.

“Grash?” He asked. “What are you doing here? I thought you went to the Makan house?”

Grash clicked her tongue and made another angry exclamation of “Humans!” Then she pulled him to his feet and began dragging him through the park, once more followed by angry mutterings and hostile stares. Two guardsmen were watching them carefully, but didn’t seem to care that the man in the tattered clothing was being dragged from the park by an angry orc. Who knew, perhaps they had been called to evict him and weren’t there for Grash?

“What’s going on?” Oscar demanded.

Grash stopped, turned and poked one of her thick fingers painfully into his chest. “My question! I go to make preparations and you run away!”

“Run away? You’re the one who left without saying anything!”

“I say I make preparations!” Grash shouted in his face.

“What’s going on here?” The guardsmen had followed them and were now demanding answers, hands on the hilts of their weapons.

Grash growled in annoyance, but then took a deep breath and turned to the two men. “I am Makan. Mercenary. Human is my client. Stupid client.”

“Right,” one of them said and looked at the orc suspiciously. “Is it true what she says?”

“Yes,” Oscar confirmed. “She’s a mercenary and she’s been accompanying me.”

“Right,” the other man said. “This isn’t the right place for the likes of you. And especially not a place for the likes of you to be causing a commotion. If we see you in these parts again you can look forward to a night in the dungeon. And now scram, both of you.”

They continued giving them hard looks until Oscar pulled on Grash’s arm to get her turn away with him. After staring hard at the two for a moment longer, the orc huffed and turned.

Oscar waited until they were out of earshot before he asked. “What was that about making preparations?”

Grash spat. “I make preparations for you. I come back and you are gone. Searching for you for hours!”

“You…, oh,” he muttered. “I thought you were done with me, going off to find your next job.”

“Humans!” Grash muttered. “Why leave wife?”

Oscar stopped walking. “Wife?” He echoed. “I’m a man, I can’t be a wife.”

Grash gave an annoyed sigh. “How often have to explain? Orc don’t care if man or woman. I fuck you, so you wife, no?”

“If you have no men or women, why would you care about wives or husbands?”

“Orcs don’t. Have no word for wife in orc tongue. [Gilah] submit, [Minda] take charge. No word for human tongue.”

“Then maybe you can use that word instead?”

“Ok, human is Gilah,” Grash agreed. “Thought human prefer human tongue words.”

“And could you call me by my name?” Oscar asked.

Grash clicked her tongue and grumbled. “Not yet.”

“Why no- Never mind. So what are these preparations you mentioned?”

“Makan house is group place. Private difficult. Make preparations for when we fuck.”

“When we…” Oscar trailed off.

Grash grinned at him. “Make human [Gilah] tonight.”

“You mean…?”

Grash patted the front of her loincloth and let out one of her grumbling chuckles. “Fuck human tonight. You like?” His breath hitched in his throat. Did he like the thought? He’d been shamelessly eating her seed every day. He’d been sucking on her cock every day, but the way she spoke of [Gilah] sounded like something final. Like a big decision. “Something wrong?” Grash demanded.

Oscar looked around. People were staring. Even if Grash hadn’t been speaking loud enough for people to hear, the familiar way in which they interacted would surely have been obvious. Some looked disgusted, some disdainful, some curious or mildly fascinated. But what did they know? He bit his lip and redirected his gaze at Grash, who looked somewhat worried now. His eyes drifted down to her loincloth, where he knew a giant cock was hidden. If he agreed, it would be inside him soon. Not just his mouth and his throat, but in his ass. He swallowed, then looked back up at Grash. “Nothing wrong. Grash will make a good [Minda], yes?”

“I will take good care,” she agreed and continued walking, pulling Oscar along.

The Makan house was a fairly large structure on the outskirts of town and as the name suggested, it was indeed filled with orcs who followed their kind’s mercenary tradition. Grash told him that the red handprints painted on the shaved side of each of their skulls marked them as Makan. Though Oscar was forced to consider that perhaps orcs naturally had no hair on the side of their heads, as Grash had never needed to shave, nor had had the opportunity when they were in the Hirpen Valley.

Stranger than red handprints was the fact that every one of the orcs inside that house had chosen to forego any kind of clothing. Grash too had discarded her clothing and weapons when she entered and insisted he undress as well. She explained that orcs of many different clans came together in these places and to wear clothing was seen as the same as hiding something. Hiding secrets or, more likely, weapons. Oscar had expected to be seen as a curiosity, but he hadn’t expected to be stared at quite so lecherously. If he had had any doubts remaining whether or not Grash’s attraction to a human like him were unusual for her kind, the visit to the Makan house gave him a very good idea.

Grash took him to a large bath first. A bath that was empty when they entered, but was soon filled with more than half a dozen other orcs, all ogling him as he sat in Grash’s lap. Grash for her part seemed to enjoy herself. She made a point of stopping him from covering up, playing with his nipples and cock as she washed him in the cold water. But she did take to assure him that she had no intention of sharing him with anyone else.

When they were clean to Grash’s satisfaction, she took him from the bath and led him to a small chamber with a fairly large bed covered in furs.

“Only two of these in the house,” Grash explained. “Bargained to have this one. Thought you prefer become my [Gilah] here. Not in group room.”

“That’s what you had to prepare?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry I misunderstood.”

“Is okay. Didn’t know human had doubt. Could’ve told to stay. No matter now.” Grash pushed him onto the soft furs. “Better place for first time than tiny tent?” She asked.

“Yes,” Oscar agreed. “I’m surprised you waited this long.”

“Took much restraint,” Grash admitted.

“How long have you been…?”

“Wanting to fuck? Or planning to fuck?” Grash asked.

“Both?”

“Wanted to fuck when I took the job. Made plan to fuck first time we sleep in Hirpen Valley.”

“So if we hadn’t been ambushed, you wouldn’t have done anything?”

Grash shrugged. “Job first. Fucking not good with other humans around.”

Oscar nodded. He could well imagine how he would have reacted to the orc trying to get closer to him when he wasn’t relying on her for survival. “You could’ve taken me much sooner. In the valley.”

Grash clicked her tongue. “Force easy. Pin you down and fuck until you like. Slow way better. Make first time good. Good memories. Also fun to slowly make you like.”

“Did I ever have a chance?” He wondered. “Not to end up as your… [Gilah].”

“Sure. Could have fought back. Would have kept trying. If enough resistance, I would accept.”

“So, I guess that’s out of the window now?” He chuckled.

“You want out the window?” She asked.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, then shook his head. “I want you to….” Somehow it was still hard to say it. In spite of everything they had done together.

“Say it,” Grash growled lustily and crawled onto the bed after him.

“I want you to… fuck me.”

Grash grinned a predatory grin and crawled atop him. She sat on his chest and slapped her heavy, half-hard cock against his face a few times. “You like?”

“Like what?” He asked teasingly.

“You like Grash?”

He looked up at the muscular orc atop him. Her deep grin skin, the amber eyes staring down into his. Her sharp featured face with the tusks growing out the bottom row of her teeth and poking out of her lips. The long black hair she wore in a ponytail and the pictures adorning the sides of her skull. His gaze drifted down to the heavy breasts, the muscular arms, the toned stomach showing her abdominal muscles. Further down there were her thick, strong thighs and the massive cock, hard by now, pointing right at his face. His hands grabbed handfuls of her muscular ass with that thin layer of fat atop. “Grash is beautiful,” he said and he meant it. How had he ever looked at this magnificent not-woman and seen anything other than perfection. “I think I… love Grash.”

Her grin showed her sharp teeth. She scooted back and leaned forward until she lay atop him with her heavy bulk. She placed her lips against his, taking his breath away. She’d never kissed him before. Her tongue pushed past his lips and his teeth. He knew it was rough from the few occasions she had sucked on his prick, but only now did he realise how long it was. It wrapped around his own tongue, immobilising it as a rumbling chuckle vibrated his whole body. “Oscar will make good [Gilah],” Grash declared when she finally withdrew her tongue from his tongue. “And Grash will be good [Minda].”

“You said my name,” Oscar mumbled.

“Now is right time,” Grash said with a smile. “Now make you ready.”

“Ready?” He asked.

Grash nodded. “Makana Karakh told Grash human ass tight. Need preparation for orc cock.”

His eyes fell onto the beast lying against his chest. “I could have told you that.”

“Is fine,” Grash assured him. She righted herself, turned around and scooted backwards. She dragged her thick ass, heavy balls and cock over his face, then angled herself to push her rod into his mouth. So far, so familiar for Oscar, even if the position was new. He relaxed his throat like he’d practised and allowed the orc to push inside, breathing in what little of her musk he could through the massive obstruction blocking his airways. It was intense, in spite of the bath they’d just taken. Not a surprise as he’d suspected for some time that her musk was not a matter of a lack of hygiene.

Next Grash grabbed his hips and pulled his ass upwards. Ignoring his cock, she spread apart his cheeks and Oscar felt her tongue probe at his ass. He felt himself twitch as her tongue danced a few rounds around the rim before pushing with some insistence to demand entry. He moaned around the cock in his throat as she found purchase and quickly pushed an inhuman length of tongue into him. He ignored the pointy tusks poking into his soft flesh and instead focused on the wriggling appendage spreading him open. If something small like a tongue could make him feel like that, how would Grash taking him feel?

Grash for her part seemed to enjoy herself as well. He could feel the vibrations of her moans all the way into his ass and on his cock wedged between her tits. But he didn’t want Grash to do everything all by herself. He placed his hands on her heavy cheeks and pushed, forcing her cock deeper into his gullet. To date he had yet to manage to swallow the whole thing and even now there was a resistance he seemed unable to overcome. Frustrated, he put his hand around his own throat, distended by the thick appendage locked within it and rubbed up and down. It wasn’t much, but he knew that Grash could feel it faintly when he did that.

Meanwhile, Grash was withdrawing her long tongue from his ass. “Delicious,” she commented. “And mine.” He felt a fat drop of her hot saliva drop onto his hole and one of her thick fingers pushed past the weakened resistance with ease. Oscar moaned as Grash added a second finger and gently stretched his hole open. The fingers withdrew and another glob of hot saliva fell, this time into his open hole and he felt and heard Grash chuckle as she dropped another one. Next came three fingers, slowly working their way deeper. “Feel good?” Grash asked.

“Rwlrwlrwlrwl,” Oscar produced a strangled sound, which caused a brief burst of laughter from the orc. She pulled herself free of his mouth and he took a moment to take a few free breaths. “Yes, it does,” he finally confirmed.

“Feel ready?” Grash asked, three fingers still stirring around in his backside. Her cock twitched at the thought and leaked pre-cum on his face, showing him how eager she was to get started.

“What if I say yes and then I’m not ready after all?” He asked. Really, all he wanted to say was that she should get started. And with every moment he breathed in her musk unobstructed, that desire grew.

“Then we go back to preparing,” Grash promised.

He gave her hard cock a tug and placed a sloppy kiss on her balls. “I’m ready.”

“On your knees,” Grash said, but was too impatient to let him do it himself. She got off him and quickly flipped him around before pulling his hips into the air. One last time, she leaned forward and snuck her tongue into his eager hole, making him moan and eagerly stick out his hips, arching his back in the process. Not one to wait any longer, Grash withdrew and finally lined herself up. “Gonna give you what you need,” she growled as her tip pushed against his sphincter. Even with her careful preparation, he was shocked at the thickness of it. “Relax,” the orc said as she pushed forward with gentle pressure.

“Aagh,” he moaned as the tip slipped past and the first few centimetres of orc meat conquered his ass. “Slow, please,” he groaned.

“Pain?” Grash asked.

He bit his lip. “No. Just be slow, please.”

“Tight,” Grash growled. Her strong hands grabbed his hips, keeping him from moving away. “Relax, Oscar.”

She kept pushing forward slowly, listening for his signals to know when to take a break. “Oh, shit,” he moaned. “How much? How much more?”

“Less than half,” Grash said as she gyrated her hips back and forth gently.

“Oh damn,” he groaned and gritted his teeth.

“No,” Grash admonished. “Not tense. Relax!”

“Easier said than done,” he muttered.

One of the orc’s hands left his hip and stroked softly across his sides and back, trying to help him relax as her hips slowly but surely worked her cock her deeper inside him. Oscar did as best he could to relax like she was telling him. He was riding a precarious wave somewhere between pleasure and pain and increasingly he felt full. Stuffed full.

Grash’s hand pushed down on his lower back, making him arch his spine even more as she sank another few centimetres in. “Fuck, fuck,” he muttered.

“Almost done,” Grash promised with hitched breath. Oscar focused on taking long, careful breaths until finally he felt Grash’s sculpted hip against his ass. “Oscar feel good? All inside!” Grash declared triumphantly.

“Ooah,” Oscar groaned and he felt Grash’s chuckle all the way to his core.

“You are trembling. Feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Describe the feeling!”

“I feel full and warm and tingling…”

“Good.” Grash pushed him forward and down onto his belly, her full weight on him and keeping her deep inside him. Her hips began to gently rise and fall. With her weight on top of him like that, Oscar felt like she was somehow pressing even deeper inside him than before. Oscar had expected her caution to go out the window once she had managed to sink herself all the way, but she kept up her gentle movements, occasionally switching it up by gyrating her hips in circles instead. “Oscar is shaking,” she commented. “Going to cum?”

His stomach tingled and his abdominals twitched. He was feeling incredibly sensitive until. “Aahhhhhh…” he groaned.

Grash’s moans mirrored his own and she softly bit down on his shoulder as he spilled his seed into the fur beneath him. “Yees,” she rumbled. “Good [Gilah] recognize pleasure from [Minda] cock. Say Oscar belong to Grash.”

“Oh fuck, I belong to you!”

“Only to Grash?”

“Only to Grash!”

How could it be any other way? He felt so small and weak under her, completely at her mercy. He’d been completely at her mercy all along and now she finally claimed what was hers. Her heavy balls were hanging against his own and he imagined that they were churning with the seed she would soon spill inside him. Hot and sticky and marking him in her colour and smell.

He couldn’t help it, he lifted his butt as much as he could and pushed back against her cock. He wanted more. He felt her rumbling chuckle against his back as she took hold of his shoulders. She pulled them back into a kneeling position and slowly withdrew her length until only the tip was lodged inside him. “Say you want it!” Grash demanded.

“Give it to me! Fuck me!”

“Yes!” The orc growled and slammed herself back inside him in one powerful motion. He barely even recognized the balls slapping hard against his own as his mouth was open in a scream of surprise and pleasure. She held him in position for a moment, then let go, letting him fall down to the furs and making the thick cock slip out of him.

His ass felt sore and yet he wanted more. He wiggled his hips back and forth to entice the orc to continue. Grash didn’t need a verbal invitation and she leaned forward, slipping back inside him, making him groan with pleasure once more. She was lying on top of him with her full weight, pulling up her hips and letting them fall to impale him again and again.

“Where does Grash’s cock belong?” The orc demanded.

“Inside me,” Oscar moaned even as drool dripped from his open mouth..

“Yes,” the orc said triumphantly and slapped his cheek. “We belong together now. Always. Ready for proper fuck?”

Worry briefly flitted through Oscar’s mind. That hadn’t been a proper fuck yet? But he realised that it was far too late to back out now. He didn’t answer, just pushed back against her, letting her know he belonged to her.

---

When it was done, he wasn’t sure how long it had lasted. All he knew was that he was sore and aching all over and tired, so very tired. That they were both covered in sweat and that she had milked every last drop of seed out of his body. He knew of and felt three of her enormous loads inside of him, some of it leaking from his still gaping hole. He knew that he loved the orc who had him nestled into the crook of her neck and that he had loved everything she had done to him. He didn’t know exactly what his new life as Grash’s [Gilah] would bring, but he felt with the orc by his side, he would be able to handle whatever came their way.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Fantasy Futa Stories