Page 20

Story: The Orc’s Rage

20

Kargorr

C edar had been nesting without realizing it. Lord Kargorr almost hadn’t needed to read the leaf colors. She was gathering more soft things for their bed, carving out a warm place for her to lie and rest while she grew his orcling inside her.

The leaves weren’t just red, but a dark, blistering red, like they’d been steeped in blood.

Not only was she carrying his orcling, but it would be a strong one. A powerful one. Lord Kargorr could smell it on her as much as he picked up his own scent coating her skin. He breathed her in deeply, memorizing the size and shape and color of her aroma. He imagined her now, swollen up thick and heavy, and his cock thrashed in its sling.

But Cedar was still motionless in his arms, her expression unreadable. He had hoped she would be elated, but instead it was as if she was in a trance.

Kargorr sat on the floor and pulled her into his lap, her head tucked under his chin. His hands encircled her, lying loosely over her thighs and under her belly. He curled one there, imagining where his orcling would grow from a small bead into a living, breathing thing, and when she had given him one, he would plant another one there. His cock pressed at her rear where it sat on his groin, but she didn’t react.

“Little deer,” he murmured in her ear, petting her soft belly. “You know I will always take care of you. I will keep you fed and warm and provide every fur or tunic you desire.”

She nodded slowly, the first movement he had seen from her since the leaves’ revelation. Kargorr kept speaking, hoping to lure her out.

“All your needs will be attended to,” he said, tracing his lips over her hair, stopping to nibble on the shell of her ear. “They will have a powerful father, and a strong and willful mother.” He felt victorious when the edge of her mouth quirked. “And they will likely always be getting into trouble, just like she does.”

As he talked, her body slowly relaxed, until she had settled back into his chest. He slid his hand up over her breast, weighing it in his palm, teasing the nipple until it peaked. His other ventured downward, between her legs and over her leather pants, pressing the fabric into her cunt as he dragged his fingers up and down. It only took a few moments for him to feel her moisture there, as wet as she got for him. No cunt had ever wept for him like Cedar’s.

But Kargorr took his time with her anyway, though his cock ached to be inside her, to fill her with his pride and pleasure. He peeled away her clothing, then lathered her up, chewing off his claws and filing them down so he could stroke his fingers inside her. He whisked over her nub with his palm until she was gasping and arching in his lap.

When at last he slid inside that warm, soft cunt, its rippled walls flexing and squeezing him, he finally felt as if this new place in the lowlands was home. Here was where everything began, right in this tent. Cedar’s breasts bounced as he thrust into her, pushing her voice higher and louder. She reached out for him in the throes of her ascent, and he held her close, driving into her as he clutched her tight to his chest. He couldn’t help wrapping his lips around hers, sucking them into his mouth, lavishing attention on her tongue. He wanted to taste all of her.

His sarga ached the tighter she held onto him. They burned. They longed to open her wide and bury themselves inside her. It made no sense, as he had already filled her with an orcling—and yet he wanted nothing but to fully encase himself in her.

Still, Kargorr held himself back, fucking Cedar more and more ruthlessly as she rushed to her peak again. He imagined how full she would get with him and then he let off, his cock swelling to fill up every last crevice of her.

When she had wrung the last drop from him, he gently rolled them to one side so he could stay buried in her. He could taste the salt of her sweat on his tongue, and he could have simply licked her clean.

If he had felt protective of Cedar before, if he had hated the mere idea of anyone looking at her like that , it was not even a simmering charcoal to the bonfire that raged now.

Now he would burn to the ground anything that got between them.

Cedar

Kargorr was... pleased .

Cedar hadn’t known he was capable of it. A smirk played at his mouth as they ate breakfast, like he was guarding a special secret. When they were finished, he announced there would be a celebration that night, one to honor his future son or daughter. Immediately he set about barking orders around the camp. There would be a whole pig roasted in a pit—not Bread Pudding, he promised.

When she arrived, Rathka’s demeanor was darker than ever. But Cedar refused to let the old woman’s foul temper bother her. Something was changing right there. She was carrying the lord’s child, and he had made it clear when he was on top of her, inside her, what it meant to him. What she meant to him.

A picture of her life here among the orcs grew clearer every moment, and for the first time, she thought staying might be better than leaving. It was warm here, and she never wanted for a meal.

Cedar had never considered having a family. When she lived in the house where she grew up, crammed in with so many brothers and sisters, the idea had seemed ludicrous. Having children meant you had even more mouths to feed when food was already so scarce. And then, living with Lissa, Cedar had known she would never even get the chance to meet a partner—not until Lissa died, at least.

But suddenly, now it was in front of her, already in her future.

A pocket of resistance still lingered, though. Lord Kargorr had made it clear once upon a time that Cedar was intended to be one of many, that she was merely another garden bed to sow. Was that still in his plan now?

Cedar tried to tuck her doubts away, to hide the question from herself because she didn’t like the fierce surge of jealousy it inspired. No, every signal she was getting from Lord Kargorr said his course had changed. He wouldn’t have kissed her, wouldn’t have looked her in the eyes the way he did, if he still intended to have others.

She had to believe that if she were to stay.

When the sun set, wood was gathered and stacked in the fire pit. The pig had been roasting all day, and Cedar salivated at the smell as she and Rathka passed.

“Let us hope you don’t lose it,” the old orc woman said as they surveyed the tables being set up, the barrels of mead and beer rolling out.

Cedar fed Kiya another treat. “Lose what?”

“Your offspring. It’s foolish to hold a celebration when these things are so tremulous early on. The kazek is too eager.”

A dark, icy dread washed over Cedar. That couldn’t be true. Now that she was with child, surely it wouldn’t be taken away so soon. She remembered Kargorr’s hands caressing her belly, and her mouth tasted of ash.

The tension in her body remained as the orcs drank and cut into the roast pig. Was Rathka right? Would Kargorr be disappointed in her if, after all this pomp and circumstance, Cedar lost their baby?

Lord Kargorr sat in his immense chair as the bonfire swelled, spitting sparks and smoke while Kiya found his place at their feet. Kargorr lifted Cedar into his lap, and she was surprised to find a lump already growing underneath her.

Food was served on immense trays, and she devoured all of it, feeling a hunger she’d never felt before. While the potatoes tasted odd, the pig was divine. As Kargorr emptied his mug, the sound of orcs talking and laughing grew louder. Other orcs would stop at their table and tap a fist to their chests.

“Congratulations, Lord Kargorr,” each of them said, and he thanked them with a vigor that surprised Cedar. He was pleased, that much was clear, and in an unusually good mood.

One half-orc approached the table, tentative, a small object tucked in his hand.

“I hope that my yapira might conceive soon, too,” he said, setting it down in front of them. It was a small animal carved from wood—a beautiful piece of dark mahogany shot through with a light grain. “Perhaps tonight. So I bring you an offering in hope you will bless our chances.”

When Cedar glanced over his shoulder, she saw another orc standing behind him, also carrying a gift.

“I hope that you, too, find the joy of creating your own orcling,” Kargorr said amiably. “And that your efforts tonight are successful.”

The half-orc wasn’t the only one to make a request like this. Soon there was a pile of children’s toys lying out in front of them, and in the background, the music began. Orcs emerged with drums, with fine lutes pillaged from some long dead musician, and even great wooden tubes they could blow to bring out a variety of deep, booming sounds. Orcs rose from their seats and began to dance, and Cedar was once again stunned by the beauty of it. They were not elegant, but they were filled with life and energy. She had never seen a human behave with such wild abandon as more and more bodies danced before the flames.

The hours passed as everyone ate and danced and drank. Cedar was startled by the sound of moaning, and she turned to find at one of the closest tables, the half-orc from earlier had his full-orc woman bent over the bench, and his cock was thrusting in and out of her. It dribbled with his seed, and Cedar shivered at the heat that immediately blasted through her at the sight.

She heard Kargorr chuckle behind her. He smoothed over the soft curve of her hip with one palm, applying enough pressure that the space between her legs ground against the object in his lap. Rather than a tunic and pants, Cedar had worn a dress for the occasion, one that the seamstress had assured her would continue to fit nicely even as her belly grew. It was the only barrier between her orc’s hand and her bare center, and he quickly crossed it, sweeping up under the dress to trail his fingers along the insides of her thighs. Cedar shifted, wishing he would bring it just a little closer, but he merely circled her sex, stopping to curl his fingers in her thatch of hair and then moving on. He traced the lips of her pussy, and even as Cedar pushed her hips into his touch, he resisted giving her what she wanted.

Then he untied his laces, letting his heavy dark green cock free. More orcs had joined in, and nearby, one orc had his partner spread over the table, teasing his ass, and then shoving his cock deep into it. Cedar gasped at the sight, and a bright spark lit in her belly. As she watched, Kargorr’s cockhead, slick with seed, slid across her. Still he teased her, finally thumbing over her sensitive pearl, and Cedar arched into him.

“Do you need my cock, little deer?” Kargorr murmured, leaning down to watch the show over her shoulder. “Has the party gotten you dripping for me?”

Cedar nodded rapidly, knowing she should be ashamed at how her body begged relentlessly for his. With a hum of approval, he lifted her up, positioned himself in the wet divot between her legs, and slowly lowered her.

Cedar moaned as he worked his way inside, slow inch by slow inch, his hand holding her belly as if he could feel himself inside her. Maybe he could with how far he stretched her open, how he demanded her body to give in to him. When she had settled fully on top of him, those lumps at the base of his cock prevented her from taking him any more deeply. He took a ragged breath, stilling himself, before he lifted her up and dropped her down again.

He took her on his lap that way, in front of every orc in the parog , claiming her as his. As her cries rose, so did those among the orcs around the fire, until the sound of ecstasy surrounded her. Still Kargorr stroked her clit, taunting her with every thrust of his hips, until she shattered around him. He milked her climax, and then, with a powerful roar, unleashed everything inside her.

While she was limp and boneless, he swept her up into his arms and rose to his feet. The orcs cheered and howled as he held her up like a trophy for everyone to see, his seed leaking down her legs and dripping to the ground.