Captured By The Orc Clan

I'm in grave danger.

I suppose I have only myself to blame. I'd known the risks beforehand, and I have to say, I don't have any regrets. I was following my heart -- and my carnal instincts, I suppose -- when I met the blacksmith for a midnight tryst behind the schoolhouse three nights ago. And just like that, I went from being the village priest's innocent youngest daughter to a whorish adulterer forever stained with sin.

And now I'm banished from our village, never allowed to return again. I have to say, winter is a very inconvenient time of the year to be banished. I've spent nearly eight hours trekking through the frozen wilderness east of our village in search of somewhere to make camp for the night, and I'm beginning to think that I'm not going to make it. My wool coat makes for a poor barrier against the bitter cold seeping into my bones. The sun is going down, and I have to be quiet like my life depends on it, for there are creatures in these parts that would take great pleasure in feasting on my flesh and blood and then use my bones to pick their teeth clean.

The snap of a twig catches my attention, and when I look up, I realize I've not been nearly as sneaky as I previously thought.

They've got me surrounded.

Orcs. At least a dozen of them. Swords pointed directly at me.

My grandmother used to tell me stories about the orcs, largely painting them as hideous, ten-foot-tall beastly things with an unquenchable taste for human flesh. I always assumed she was just trying to scare me into eating my vegetables. Looking at them now for the first time, snarling at me like they're going to make me a meal, I can see that she wasn't exaggerating in the slightest.

Though orcs are vaguely human in shape, that's where our similarities end. Their ugly green faces are concealed by cloth coverings, presumably to protect against the frigid cold, but I know what lies beneath -- a mouthful of sharp, yellowed teeth capable of tearing through flesh with the ease of a knife through butter.

I don't see a way out of this. I might be able to outsmart one of them, but twelve? I'm already dead. I gently lower my knife to the ground, along with my pack, to show that I'm surrendering. Twelve pairs of black, soulless eyes follow my every move.

One of them finally speaks. He lets loose a string of unfamiliar words in a deep, guttural voice, none of which I'm able to understand, but he clearly expects some kind of response from me. I simply stare at them, paralyzed with fear.

Another one approaches me, and I fall to the ground and cover my face, wondering if they're going to eat me raw or cook me first, unsure which would be the more painful way to go. But the beast picks me up like a sack of potatoes and throws me over his shoulder. "Let me go!" I scream, clawing against his back, but I could be clawing against a wall of stone for all the good it's doing me.

We walk for a while, and eventually, the forest parts to reveal a small, bustling camp crawling with orcs. They move hugely amongst a sea of tents pitched against the muddy ground, seemingly busy with everyday tasks such as cooking and cleaning. There are multiple fires set up throughout the encampment, sending gray smoke towards the sky in thick puffs. The smell of cooked meat assaults my nostrils, and I'm reminded that it's been a while since my last meal.

The orc drops me on a log right next to a fire but doesn't untie my wrists. It's clear by the warning in his eyes that any attempts to escape will be thwarted quickly and brutally. He takes a seat on the log across from me and begins sharpening his sword while the rest of our travelling party disperse amongst the camp. I lean into the heat of the flames, hoping this isn't the very fire that I'll be roasting over later.

After about an hour of sitting alone, someone approaches, and it's not at all a face I was expecting to see. He's human -- an elderly, white-bearded man with wrinkled skin and wise eyes.

His gnarled hands are raised to signal peaceful intentions, though I don't entirely buy that. "Don't be alarmed, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Merlin. What can I call you?"

"Ingrid," I answer, scanning the strange man from head to toe. He seems relatively harmless. He takes a heavy seat beside me. "You're human," I point out.

"I am."

"What are you doing in an orc encampment? Are you a prisoner too?" If it's me and the old man against a horde of bloodthirsty orcs, then escape might be more challenging than I anticipated.

He chuckles. "I am not. For all intents and purposes, I'm a member of the clan."

At my confused expression, he elaborates, "The clan was moving through the Moaning Mountains when they found me about two decades ago. My village had just been raided by a pack of hyenas. I'd been bitten and on the verge of death. The orcs took me in and nursed me back to health. I've been traveling with them ever since in order to pay back my debt. I serve as their healer and translator when the situation calls for it."

It takes me a moment to digest this man's unlikely story. "And you're here by your own free will?"

"I've got nowhere else to go," says Merlin with a shrug. "They've been good to me. I've grown to think of them as companions."

"They're a bunch of savage beasts," I point out. It's probably unwise to be insulting the people that control my fate, but I can't help it.

Merlin doesn't deny it. "They certainly can be, yes. But they're also skilled hunters and very protective of their own. And the most resourceful people I've ever witnessed."

I'm growing rather tired of Merlin's praise of the orcs, so I ask him bluntly, "Can I leave?"

Merlin sighs. "I'm afraid not, Ingrid."

I didn't think it would be that easy. My voice lowers to a whisper as I ask, "What are they going to do to me? Are they going to eat me?"

Merlin answers my question with another question, which is more than a little annoying. "What do you notice about this camp?"

I glance around the encampment, sniffing the air. "It's smells like a swamp?"

He sighs, clearly disappointed with my observational skills. "There are no females."

I take another look around, closer this time. Hmm. I suppose he's right. "Well, where are they?"

"At present, there are three females residing in this camp -- all elderly, and all incapable of childbearing. We were attacked by a rival clan about two years ago, and they specifically targeted the already small number of females among our ranks, with the intent of ending bloodlines. It was a dark, dark day." He looks somewhere beyond me, remembering the horrors of this event. "Even before that, the only infants born to this camp over the past ten years were three males and a stillborn female. If things keep going as they have been, this clan will be extinct in a generation."

It's a sad story, but one that doesn't pertain to me. I don't have it in me to feel sorry for the brutes who captured me. "I don't understand why you're telling me this."

He raises one thick eyebrow, as if the answer should be obvious. "The council has come to an agreement. In return for your life, you will live here and bear children to as many orc males as you can over the course of your lifespan."

Merlin's words are a slap across the face. What he's suggesting is so horrible, so unimaginable -- "I can't do that," I sputter, feeling a dozen emotions at once, anger most prominent among them. "My body is not meant for such a thing--."

"Orc infants are the same size as human infants, so I don't think you'll struggle with birth any more than you would if you were carrying a human, if that's what you're worried about."

As if childbirth is that simple. "No! Absolutely not!"

He throws his hands in the air rather dramatically for and old man. "Do you want to die, stupid girl? Because that's the alternative. They'll roast you over the fire and feast on your meat. You have to prove your worth, and your options are limited. The only thing you have to offer is your womb."

I can't believe this is happening. He's basically suggesting that I become a sex slave to this clan of beasts. My brain conjures images of ropes and chains and dirty floors, being kept like a dog on a leash in some freezing hut. Terror slices through my chest. "What will happen if I say yes? What will my accommodations be here?"

"To put it in words that you'll understand, you'd be treated like royalty among the orcs. Childbearing will be your only responsibility. You would not be required to contribute to any chores or daily tasks. Should you successfully conceive a child, your only focus will be to stay healthy and safe. And you will gain the protection of every able-bodied male in this entire camp -- they would give their lives to ensure the survival of any potential offspring."

Merlin's assurance that I will be protected calms me ever so slightly. I'm trying to imagine it -- to be fed, housed, and safe with no responsibilities other than to sit on my ass all day? Of course, there's the whole process of conception, which rather terrifies me, but at the moment I'm more concerned with not being eaten alive.

I suppose the answer is obvious. I can't believe that I'm about to agree to this. Should I ever decide that I want to leave, I suppose I can always plan my escape at a later time...

Merlin seems to read my thoughts while I'm thinking them. "Should you ever attempt to flee while carrying orc offspring, you will be hunted down and brought back here as a captive. Your accommodations will not be so kind after that." At my deliberation, Merlin adds, "It would be in your best interest to cooperate. Please, believe me, Ingrid."

"I suppose I don't have much of a choice," I mumble.

"That's the spirit," says Merlin darkly. "You can rest in this tent for now," he jerks a finger to the tent just behind us. "I will inform the council of your decision."

--

The rest of the night is rather uneventful. Merlin brings me a plate of stale bread and dried beef, which I eagerly devour, realizing it's been almost twenty-four hours since my last meal. Against my better judgement, I'm fast asleep not long after that. Now that I know the clan wants me for my womb, I'm not so much worried about getting murdered in my sleep.

The next day, an elderly female orc arrives to my tent with a scowl on her face; she spits out a string of grunts that I interpret to mean she wants me to follow her. She leads me to another tent where I am greeted by another elderly female orc and a tub of boiling water. I strip naked of my own free will, afraid that if I don't, they'll take it upon themselves to rip my clothes right off of me. They scrub me until the bathwater runs brown and I'm as pink and raw as a newborn babe. My clothes have vanished, and I'm offered a scratchy wool robe to cover myself. My nipples chafe against the material.

The females return me to my tent and instruct me to stay put. Today is not an ideal day for me to make a run for it -- the snow has picked up, whipping against my tent like a wolf's howl, threatening to blow it all down. About mid-day, one of the females brings me a bowl of stew and half a loaf of crusty bread. I'm left alone for several more hours, and at one point I drift off to sleep. Merlin arrives sometime after sunset with grim news.

"It's time," he announces. "The Chieftan awaits in his tent."

My pulse quickens. "Okay," I say, having resigned myself to this fate. I don't really have a choice in the matter. With the weather taking such a drastic turn, there's no way I'd survive out there on my own.

I'm just going to have to suffer through this.

Merlin's not meeting my eyes. He looks like he's withholding an important piece of information from me. "Is there something else I should know?" I demand.

"It's not just the Chieftan you will be coupling with tonight."

I swallow hard over the lump that sticks in my throat. "What do you mean?"

"In the interest of increasing your chances of conception, you will couple with ten members of the clan tonight."

I can't breathe. This information is nothing short of horrifying. "If I become pregnant, how will we know who the father is?"

Merlin waves a dismissive hand. "The clan is not concerned with paternity. They will raise the child as a collective. We are all one family here." He says this as if it excuses the gangbang that awaits me.

Merlin leads me across camp towards my fate. When we arrive at the tent where it will happen, he gestures for me to go inside. "Try to relax, Ingrid. I know that you can do this."

I resist the urge to punch the old man in the nose.

The inside of the Chieftan's tent is spacious and comfortable and contains an actual feather bed decorated with pillows and furs. I suppose this is what royalty among orcs looks like.

There's the sound of shuffling outside the ten before they enter. All ten of them -- all equally large and equally terrifying -- filter into the tent and stand along the wall. The one who enters last is the largest, and, given the look on this face, the meanest too. I take him to the be the Chieftan.

They start to undress, shedding their furs and armor until the stand before me as naked as they day they came into this world. Each and every one of them is toned and muscular, sculpted by years in the wilderness fighting to survive.

The next thing I know, I'm surrounded by cocks. Big, green, thickly veined cocks, each one the size of my forearm, hardening at the sight of a frail human girl with big doe eyes and an empty womb. It's at this point when the panic starts to truly set it.

The others stand back to allow the Chieftan to go first. He approaches the bed and makes quick work of ripping my robe to shreds and tossing the useless fabric aside. Now, I'm completely naked. Goosebumps ripple across my bare skin.

They're not going to hurt you, I remind myself. They need you alive to carry their offspring.

I gasp as the Chieftan grips my knees and tosses them apart, spreading me like I'm his personal plaything. I suppose tonight that's exactly what I am. The Chieftan grips a fistful of the dark hair between my legs and tugs on it roughly, lifting my body off the bed in the process, as if testing its durability. "Ow!" I say, and he releases me with a grunt.

He gathers my breasts in his large hands and squeezes them tight, grunting in approval. He lets his fingers trail down my hips, gripping my ass along the way. I feel like a prized pig being examined during an auction. Next, he uses both hands to spread my cunt lips to get a proper look at my hole.

The Chieftan is displeased by what he sees, and I'm momentarily self-conscious. I'm certain I look relatively normal down there. He clears his throat and hocks a glob of saliva directly onto my hole. I flinch as the fluid lands home.

He's still displeased, and I take it that I'm not wet enough for his liking. He lowers his head towards my open cunt to rectify the situation.

I'm not going to lie; it scares me to have those jagged teeth so close to my most sensitive parts. But his tongue is huge. I don't know what I imagined their tongues to look like, but it certainly wasn't a slimy, greyish appendage nearly four inches in length and three inches wide. He takes one last assessment of my spread lips before diving his tongue straight into me. And then he feasts.

I want to say that I'm not enjoying it. But that would be a lie.

The Chieftan licks me for a good while, emanating slurping noises that, under different circumstances, would be rather disgusting. I'm horrified to discover that it's actually working -- I can feel a hot liquid seeping out of me, evidence of my body's betrayal. The muscles in my lower belly begin to tense, anticipating what's to come. Deep shame stains my cheeks -- am I really going to enjoy this?

The Chieftan pulls back and assesses my cunt once more, this time satisfied that I'm sufficiently wet enough for his cock. He climbs upon the bed with more grace than I would have thought possible for someone of his size and positions himself between my legs. And then he's entering me.

I'm unable to look away as I am impaled by the Chieftan Orc's thick slab of meat. He stretches me thoroughly, forcing my tight cunt to accommodate his girth, not stopping to give me time to adjust. The head of his cock nudges up against that little sweet spot deep inside my tunnel, and my eyes begin to water from the intensity.

Unbelievably, I feel myself clenching around his cock.

He begins to fuck me in earnest, not giving any consideration to my comfort or pleasure, and somehow, the dynamic has got me building towards a powerful orgasm. I can't believe that an orc is about to make me come... and then it happens, and I'm screaming out in pleasure, while tears continue to streak down my cheeks. God, why does this feel so fucking good?

The Chieftain spills his load into me, and abruptly pulls out and backs away, leaving my cunt empty and grasping. I look wildly around, wondering what the hell I'm supposed to do next.

Barely ten seconds pass before another orc steps up to take his place between my legs. This one grips my slick thighs for leverage while his big green cock disappears swiftly inside of me, and then he's fucking me, in and out, in and out, in and out. I continue to clench around his cock, worried I'm going to come again. But for now, I manage to keep my orgasm at bay, because it feels wrong to be enjoying this.

Orc number three flips me over onto my stomach and sinks into me from behind, grabbing a fistful of my hair along the way. His big, hairy balls slap wetly against my pussy lips, giving my clit just enough stimulation to count. And the next thing I know, I'm convulsing all over his cock, screaming out my pleasure. I'm still on my stomach when Orc number four braces one foot on the bed and presses the other into my back, keeping me in place while he thrusts into me. There's the sound of slobbering from above, and a string of drool drips obscenely down onto my neck. It's gross, but I'm too distracted to care.

Orc number five doesn't last long, but the sixty seconds he's inside of me are rough and unyielding and culminate in an impressive rush of orc seed that gushes out of me like a waterfall.

Orc number six flips me over so I'm on my back again and presses my thighs up against my stomach so that I'm folded in half like a piece of paper. This one has the biggest cock of all of them, and the scream that's ripped from my throat is nothing short of animalistic, a sound perfectly at home among these savage beasts. He enters me more slowly than the others, giving me time to adjust -- but not much. It feels like I'm being split in half, and I imagine this is what childbirth will feel like. Only, to my great horror, I find myself reaching down between our two bodies to rub my clit with as much intensity as I can manage. The other orcs grunt something unintelligible as I come once again, and it sounds vaguely like cheering.

I'm floating dreamily on a cloud when the next orc approaches. Number seven grunts the loudest and squeezes my tits while he empties his balls into me. I'm an absolute mess by the time number eight steps up claim me. This one shoots an impressive amount of cum into my womb before withdrawing and spraying a second load onto my stomach. I run my fingers through the thick, cloudy liquid, mesmerized by the sheer amount of it.

Orc number nine slides into me with ease, thanks to the abundance of creamy moisture already coating my inner walls. Number nine finishes within minutes, his seed shooting powerfully up my used cunt.

I'm exhausted by the time orc number ten approaches, barely clinging to consciousness, my breathing ragged. He takes his time with me, pumping me slowly and deliberately, and it feels like a nice, relaxing massage compared to the previous couplings. Number ten somehow manages to drag one final orgasm out of my ruined hole, and I cry out as I come yet again. That makes four orgasms. Four orgasms, from these dirty, filthy, beastly orcs, one of whom likely impregnated me tonight.