Though relations between Orcs and the other races have long since turned peaceful, much of what we know about their culture is still based only on rumor and individual experiences. The greatest source of these are the children born of unions between Orcs and those races able to carry a mixed blood child.
Some of these accounts describe a frenzy that possesses male Orcs and half-Orcs once they find a suitable mate. They tell us that it is a clear minded madness, one that takes over the male in question and pushes him to impregnate his mate before another Orc takes notice of her. Nothing will stop him short of exhaustion, his period of recovery after seeding his woman reduced to almost nothing until the biological urge has been satisfied.
Interestingly, once the female is bred and the male's claim is secure, they will often share their mate with the tribe, seeing them as a prize to be flaunted rather than a treasure to be hoarded. How this impacts those of mixed heritage compared to those of full Orcish blood has yet to be fully....
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Avilane raised her arms above her head in a stretch, soaking up the warm sun as they reached the surface at last. Daven, ever true to his word, whisked her away to his home as soon as they had left the underdark and separated from their party. It took them a while to actually leave, every time they thought they were done another round of tearful goodbyes followed. Daven would see them again when they next left on a job but for Avilane it really was goodbye.
She'd held each of her companions in turn as she bid them farewell one last time, more than a few taking a cheeky grab of her ass before they lost the opportunity forever, before turning and walking away with Daven as he led her through the city to his house. It was about the same size as her own, she noted as Daven lit the lights in the entry way with a wave of his hand, the enchantment kicking on now that the owner was home. It was more than enough for one person and maybe a guest but nowhere near big enough for a family.
"Well, we would have moved at some point,"
she thought, unbothered about the space issue at the moment.
She shifted uncomfortably where she stood, her lower half aching with need. She'd probably see if Marius would mind letting her use some of the inn's special bath oil. If not, she could always find her way over to one of the various potion shops by the wharf. Somewhere there she should find what she was after and then she could dump as much as was needed into her bath to restore her body. At the reminder of her ordeal, her pussy and asshole burned.
She knew no one usually survived an encounter with a mimic once they were captured, breeding season or otherwise, but in none of the books her party had had on them was it written how long the effects of the monster's aphrodisiac lasted if you
did
get caught and escape. Ever since she'd woken up the next day, her body was constantly on fire. No matter what she did, there was a need for more lingering just under her skin. That need seemed to amplify each sensation as well. Even just simply having someone brush by her sent a shiver down her spine and wet her underclothes.
She'd spent every night since in Daven's tent with him, touching and being touched, trying anything they could to ease her need. They kept their lovemaking at night to the privacy they'd found away from the main camp, if only for the sake of their companions, but even bent over on the moss with the huntsman as deeply inside as he could cram himself she ached. Having Daven bury himself in her ass and fuck her so sweetly melted her heart but did little else besides soothe her momentarily. It was still a welcome relief despite how briefly it lasted.
She didn't have much more time to think about anything as the the door shut behind her with a heavy thunk and she was spun around and bent over with her ass presented to Daven before the latch had finished falling into place. She had a fairly good idea what was coming next and fell back on old habits, letting her old whore-magic wash over her holes and clean her up as was so often necessary lately. Her pants were torn from her body, the shreds in his grasp tossed away blindly as his prize was revealed. Daven gripped the globes of her ass in his meaty hands and spread her apart, the only thing left to obscure his vision the scrap of fabric she called her underthings. The thin cloth was twisted into a rope where it rubbed against her puckered holes, the three days between now and her attack by the mimic not enough time to heal completely. Especially since Daven could hardly keeps his hands off of her now that they'd agreed she was his.
He kept working his hand under her pants to finger her ass as they walked. Every time they stopped on the way back up to the surface, he'd pulled her away to some shadowy corner and pressed his mouth to her, heedless of their friends trying to ignore them only steps away white he greedily ate her out. He was just as greedy with her body when he put himself between her lips and took his release from her mouth before walking them back to rejoin the group as if nothing had happened.