CW:

  SpoilerBrief consensual-nonconsent, but the person acting as the aggressor isn't that great at being, y'know, mean

  [colpse]Evie had been pced on her knees in the tent, instructed to remain that way. She'd shocked herself with how easily she'd acquiesced to the order. Her body was exhausted, her weapons stripped from her, and her feet run ragged through the battle, so she'd had no choice. Even the uncomfortable position, with her calves beneath her thighs and knees spread apart, was better than standing. They'd also instructed her to keep her hands behind her back, as if bound, but she'd ignored that the moment she'd been left alone in the tent.

  The contents of the tent were spartan in accommodation for an officer, lightweight wood furniture scattered about without much in the way of organization. An empty weapons rack was set between a rge cot and a chest of drawers, a rge circur rug keeping the furniture off the grass. In fact, the entire floor of the tent was festooned with plush rugs, perhaps the only reason Evie was convinced that the officer she'd been "assigned" to was someone of consequence.

  She was content to use the opportunity convalescence, a necessity if she wished to escape, but she would be damned if she actually gave in in to more of their insidious demands than she had to. Should she be left alone long enough to regain her strength, she would take the risk to begin searching the tent for a means of resistance, but until such time arrived, she would hold the position, so that an unexpected visitor would not find her visibly disobedient.

  The orc armies, after all, were infamous for their treatment of prisoners. Disobedience, Evie knew, was the greatest sin of all. Those that were diverted to hard bor, used as pack mules for the war train, were allowed some deviation from the letter of their, but those kept in the camp, as Evie was? There was only one fate that awaited them.

  Thankfully, she was confident that she would escape. She was faster than their scouts, skilled with a bde, and cleverer than any of them. The only foe that gave her pause was, perhaps, the very general who had orchestrated the ambush which had resulted in her capture.

  A shadow darkened the tent wall, crouching before its fp. Evie hurriedly pced her hands behind her back, as was proper, and controlled the smug contempt she felt for the figure. This orc army's success was a mere aberration, a trumped up warband that would soon be quashed. If the woman that had cimed Evie as spoils was particurly cruel, Evie would enjoy visiting them in the Imperial prisons. It was a reversal of fate that she would savor.

  A rge woman entered the tent, dressed in the armor of battle. Evie kept an even, neutral expression on her face, sizing up her captor. Her armor was well-made, her height considerable, a thin warhammer dangling from her waist. Evie's interest piqued at that. Warhammers were uncommon among the orc forces, who usually preferred their stereotypical axes and seaxes.

  To her surprise, the orc barely gnced her way. Just a quick confirmation that she was present, then nothing. The orc began shucking off her brutish armor piece by piece, dropping them to the floor with a thud. Evie waited impatiently.

  "Are you certain you feel confident taking that armor off in front of me?" Evie snapped, her irritation getting the better of me. "Your soldiers didn't even put me in binds. They're as incompetent as I anticipated."

  "Why would they?" The orc grunted, turning to pce her warhammer on a weapon rack.

  "So that I don't stab you the moment you walked in. Trust me, I was contempting it."

  The orc gnced her way. "So do it."

  Evie's jaw clenched. She was still too exhausted to move with the speed required. The orc chuckled, turning her back to Evie. That, more than anything, boiled her blood.

  The orc finished removing her armor while she walked about the tent, dropping the pieces wherever she happened to be. Evie watched as she went to a water basin and spshed it across her face, then took a sip, uncaring of the water spilled down her shirt. Only after this preliminary cleaning up did she turn to face Evie, smirking.

  "So you're the one that gave my troops that trouble, huh?"

  "Your troops?" Evie scoffed. "You certainly have a high opinion of yourself."

  Hurlish paused, frowning. "Wait. Damnit, did I screw it up already? I thought I was the general."

  "No Hurlish, it's alright," Evie quickly reassured. "Remember, I wasn't supposed to be aware you were the general, and when you revealed it, it would put me on the back foot, so you'd push me a little farther. You're doing fine."

  "Oh! Oh, okay, I got it. Damn, this is a lot easier when Sara's got you all zonked out."

  "I'm sure it is," Evie agreed. She cocked her ears. "Wait. Do you really ask Master for crification mid-scene, then have her use the colr to make me forget you asked a question?"

  "Uh." Hurlish cleared her throat. "Anyway."

  "Well, they are my troops, aren't they?" The orc fshed a cocky grin. "Normally I let the officers take their pick, but after the thrashing we gave your army, there's more than enough to go around. Why shouldn't I take the cream of the crop?"

  Evie's pulse began to race. " You are the general of this army?"

  "One and the same, little kitten. Did you really think a prime piece like yourself would go to my lessers?"

  Evie fixed a scowl on her face, doing her best to maintain appearances even as she felt a tendril of fear worming its way through her brain. The orc general's reputation was known far and wide, her brutality on the field of battle sending shivers through even the most stalwart Imperial spines. That she was the only foreign raider to have not just successfully raided an Imperial city, but done so on multiple occasions, and had never been captured? Her intellect was as fearsome as the whispered tales of her feats on the battlefield.

  The more she recalled of the General's accomplishments, the deeper the tendril of fear dug into her thoughts. Her hope of escape, mere minutes ago seeming so close, seemed to be stretching into the distance.

  "Orc got your tongue, little kitty?" General Hurlish taunted. She pulled out a wooden folding chair, dropping it a few feet in front of Evie, and took a seat. "That's alright. I know I'm a lot to swallow."

  "Your audacity more than anything,," Evie sniped, mustering her wits. "I couldn't swallow your ego, either. Or were you referring to your hips? They're awfully wide, for a warrior."

  General Hurlish chuckled. "They're pretty big, I'll give you that. Perfect for bearing children, I've heard."

  Evie flushed. Hurlish's pregnancy with Master's child was outside the scene, and exploiting it to warm Evie up was cheating. But there was no way to point that out without breaking character herself, so she tossed her hair defiantly, ignoring the retort.

  "It seems your mouth is the rgest of all, orc. What would your troops think, to hear you so casually conversing with your captive?"

  "Eh, they wouldn't mind." General Hurlish leaned back in the wooden chair, which groaned under her considerable bulk. She had a mannish spread to her legs that Evie's tutors would have despised. "Orcs don't really do your blue-blooded table manner crap. It's normal to py with your food. And looking at you..." The orc's gaze slithered up and down Evie's body, as if she could see through her armor. "...I think you'll be mighty tasty."

  Evie huffed ostentatiously, because it was the only way she could think to hide the hitch in her breath. The comment was the first hint at what the General's intentions were for her. Evie had heard endless lurid tales of the sves the orcs took and the fate they were consigned to. Degrading, demeaning behavior, forced onto their victims by magical means. If the gods once had any oversight of the colrs they gifted to mortalkind, she didn't think it remained. None of the divine would approve of the abuse of their gifts, of using the colrs for such base depravity.

  "You will never put a colr on me," Evie snapped. "I would sooner bite my tongue off than be bound to you."

  "Colr? Who said anything about a colr?"

  Evie barked a ugh. "You! You did, of course. The General Hurlish whispered of by idiotic peasants wouldn't be such a fool as to think she'll taste me by any other means."

  "Oh, on that point, you and I are gonna have to disagree." The General's legs spread even wider, the massive orc groaning as she took a moment to massage a knot in her neck. Evie did her best not to watch the muscles of her biceps bulge, mouth going dry. The General had already soundly bested her tactics on the field, and now she could see that there would be no contest in a personal test of strength, as well. The orc rolled her neck, fixing Evie under her gaze once more. "Y'see, I got sves. Plenty of sves, actually, and they've all gotten very, very good at pleasing me."

  "Beast," Evie spat.

  "As if your own people don't do the same?" General Hurlish shook her head in amusement. "Just cause you made up some fake crimes before you sp a colr on some poor bastard doesn't make you any better than us. But that's besides the point, because none of my girls have colrs."

  Evie's ears flicked in disbelief. "Impossible. Taking into your bed those who possess the will to disobey you? You would have been dead of a knife in the heart a hundred times over before ever meeting me."

  "But I'm here, aren't I?" The orc leaned forward, eyes darkening. "Y'see, little kitty, you're like a lot of the girls I've taken. A weak, cute little thing, with nothing more to you than a sharp tongue and fancy sword. All it takes to break your sort is taking those away, make you realize that you don't have anything other than a family name that gets people scraping at your feet." The orc's lips split in an ugly grin. "And after I prove that? When you realize that you'll never be nothin' more than a pretty decoration for my tent? I'll give you something real, real fun for you to get good at."

  Evie worked her mouth, mustering up enough saliva to spit at the orc. After the day's exertion, however, it was just an airy spray, falling impotently to the floor between them.

  "Ha! Got some fight in you. Good. That means you'll st a bit longer than the rest."

  Without further ado, the orc pushed off from her stool, covering the distance to Evie in two steps. She didn't pause or say a word as she took a fistful of Evie's hair, yanking her neck back and up, so that she was forced to stare up at the massive woman towering over her. Just as quickly, a second hand nded on her jaw, prying it open with indifference. It all happened before she could say a word.

  The orc began poking around in Evie's mouth even while she tried to sm her jaws shut, aiming to bite off the intruding fingers. Her entire neck trembled with the effort. Nothing happened. The orc's hands may as well have been steel. Evie's heart fluttered as she was confronted by such a stark example of the strength disparity between them.

  The orc took it for granted, naturally. She was more interested in running a thumb along Evie's canines, the twin protrusions one of her more Feline aspects. They were sharp enough to rend flesh, as Evie well knew from eating overcooked game on the campaign trail, but General Hurlish wasn't concerned. She seemed entranced by the teeth, pressing the pad of her thumb up into her right canine's razor tip, harder, harder, until Evie felt the digit slide a little bit up, pierced.

  The taste of iron raced over her tongue in scarlet drops. General Hurlish inhaled sharply, in a manner that seemed very far detached from pain.

  "Y'know, I heard the fey built felines for every people, no matter who. Didn't really believe it. A skinny little kitty-cat wouldn't do much for most orcs. But these?" General Hurlish licked her lips appreciatively. "Damn fine, even if they aren't proper tusks. Not like catfolk, ugly mouth full of daggers. Just the two, which is real nice." General Hurlish's less-than-clinical inspection of Evie's mouth moved on, prodding at her cheeks, her mors. "Who'd'a thought the fae'd even give us orcs a little treat in your body? Just an adorable little set you got there. I'll have to be careful taking you out of the tent. Plenty of troops'll be real eager to get a piece of you."

  Does she really think this qualifies for the 'degrading' aspect of the py? Evie wondered as Hurlish continued to explore her mouth. It's perhaps infantilizing, but far from insulting. She could have at least implied that her soldiers having their way with me might be a punishment for ill behavior, rather than something she wished to be avoided. Too kind-natured to even imagine the threat, I suppose. Oh, well. I can work with it.

  When the orc finally pulled her fingers from Evie's mouth, she'd worked up more than enough saliva to spit. She did so immediately, clearing the taste of the orc from her mouth, but didn't aim for General Hurlish's body, which would keep too much of the woman's focus on her. When she was done, she pressed a palm to the ground between her thighs, shakily forcing herself to a standing position.

  "Is that what I'm to be for you? Some fetishistic dispy doll, marched about for your troop's entertainment?"

  "Maybe. Maybe not. You're a fine enough prize that I might just keep you locked up in my tent whenever we're not on the march, chained and ready on a post for me. Be a good way to work out stress, having you close by."

  Evie flicked her eyes to the tent's exit. She could see no shadows of guards. She fixed her attention back on General Hurlish as quickly as she could, to not arouse suspicion.

  "You speak so much of what you will do, General, but you've done very little to convince me you're capable."

  "You really want me to get on with it that bad, huh?"

  "Don't take me for some animal in rut. I'm a member of th–"

  Without warning, in the middle of a word, Evie darted for the tent's exit. The st of her energy was put into one lunging dash, arm stretched towards freedom.

  The wind was knocked from her chest as a massive hand snagged her wrist, throwing her to the side. Evie's feet left the ground as the orc spun her in an arc, smming her back into the floor of the tent without so much as a grunt of effort. Evie nded in a confused and tangled heap atop a pile of discarded clothes, her wrist burning like fire.

  "You're a quick one," the General admitted, "but predictable. If you'd really wanted to take me by surprise, you should've gone for the tent wall or something, tried to cut it open. I've had a few girls try that." Evie tried to shove herself up from the pile of clothes, but her aching muscles protested too much. "'Course, that didn't work for any of them, but it would've been smarter. Hopefully your next attempt'll be more inspired."

  Evie managed to push herself back up to her hands and knees, breathing hard, fighting to ignore the throbbing in her wrist.

  "If you already know I will attempt to escape again, you're a fool for keeping me uncolred," she snapped, the vitriol in her words all the dignity she had left to her. Though the orc hadn't intended it, Evie was now bowed before her, on all fours. Evie's skin burned with shame.

  "Eh, maybe. But I'd bet good money that your second attempt won't be nearly as spirited. Most of the girls try a couple times, some of the real stubborn ones three times, then they pretty much give it up."

  "I'm not some commoner girl, General. I'm a warrior in my own right, and I'm not going to abandon my pride so easily."

  "Yeah, maybe, but I've heard it all before, and besides, I'm getting bored."

  Evie's head snapped up at the sound of a belt being unbuckled. The orc sported a malicious grin as she began removing her trousers with the same efficient movements that had seen her armor discarded.

  "You any good with your mouth, Kitty?"

  "My name is Evie," she snapped, because the instinctive correction was the only response she could find that would not reveal the tremor in her voice.

  "Yeah, yeah, we'll work on that soon enough. Now, Kitty, I asked you a question."

  The orc was out of her trousers now, standing with feet apart. Her undergarments were surprisingly attractive, if still practical. Tight-fitting breeches cut off at the thigh, dyed a pale pink, darkening with arousal at the meeting of her legs. Her voice dropped an octave as she gred down at Evie.

  "Are. You. Good. With. Your. Mouth?"

  Evie fell back on her heels as she stared up at the towering woman, drawing one final, defiant breath.

  "Go to hell."

  "Guess we're gonna find out together, then."

  Evie barely had time to gasp before the orc grabbed a fistful of her hair, dragging her face directly into the crook of her legs. She didn't bother to remove her undergarments, simply using Evie's face as a soft surface to grind against. Evie's cheeks were shoved into a pce that was hot, tinged with sweat. The pain from her scalp had her eyes watering, but there was no expnation for the sudden watering of her tongue. She immediately pressed against the orc's thighs with both arms, trying to pull herself off, and achieved nothing.

  "Mmhf! Mhfhf!"

  "Oh, that feels nice," the orc said, thrusting her hips upward. "Keep tryna talk, Kitty. Got a nice little buzz to it."

  Evie's cheeks roared with indignation, and she immediately held her breath. The orc barely noticed, and if she cared in the slightest about Evie's attempts to escape, she showed no sign. Evie continued to struggle, squirming in silence. After a few moments more of this, the orc relented, snapping Evie's head back. She took deep, rapid gasps of fresh air.

  Hurlish was breathing harder, however. "Hey, Evie, I gotta be real with you," she panted, "I am totally forepy'd out right now."

  Evie licked at the slick on her cheeks. "I noticed." Her girlfriend's arousal had soaked through her undergarments to thoroughly cover Evie's face. "I assume you want to alter the scene?"

  "Can we? I know you were all excited, but, like, I reeaally wanna cut to the chase right now."

  "I suppose so. It's rather fttering to know the effect I have on you."

  "Oh thank the gods," Hurlish swore, reaching down to snap the band of her undergarments with a thumb, the fingers of her other hand still tangled painfully in Evie's hair.

  "Don't be any gentler, though."

  "Oh, c'mon, Kitty. You know me better than that."

  Evie felt a fre of pain in her nose as she was smmed back down onto Hurlish's cunt, the orc groaning as bare skin finally touched her lower lips.

  Evie reflexively set her tongue to work, pping up and down the searing heat of Hurlish's slit. The orc was rocking into her face, making it difficult to find a rhythm, but she was more than up to the task. With needles of pleasurable pain sending a delectable shiver from scalp to tail, Evie began servicing her girlfriend.

  There was probably still some way to salvage the scene, Evie supposed. Perhaps this was our second, or third encounter, and I have been suitably humbled to at least put an effort in for my new owner? Or perhaps the General had acquired some kind of leverage, such as the lives of my troops, that forced me to please her so?

  Or maybe she just tastes too fine, Evie admitted as she speared her tongue into Hurlish's velvety core. As Hurlish cmped down on her, Evie groaned, a sentiment mirrored by a much deeper rumble above her. Master may have tasted like exotic wine, delectable fruit, a gift of Amarat's blessings, but Hurlish tasted like a woman. Salt and tang and all the things that came with it. Evie didn't know which she preferred. Master's taste was delectable, unique, almost dangerously addling to her thoughts, but Hurlish's body stirred a different reaction in her. A more guttural satisfaction, like they were just animals, taking from one another what they pleased.

  Oh, fuck the scene. I need more of that.

  Evie wrapped her arms around Hurlish's hips to take fistfuls of her ass, using the leverage to shove her tongue as deep as she could go. Hurlish's other hand nded on Evie's head, gripping as hard as the first while the orc tried to shove her further in.

  Evie's tongue was nowhere near the dimensions of Master's cock, which may have meant Hurlish could not be as filled as she usually preferred, but it was certainly more dextrous. Evie took a well-trod path through the orc's body, countless hours of exploration guiding her to the nooks and crannies that garnered the finest reactions.

  Muffled by Hurlish's thighs, she heard the orc's groans turn into moans, losing the gravelly quality that had marked her earlier rolepy. Evie nuzzled closer with a shake of her head, using her nose to brush Hurlish's clit, and began taking her apart.

  Hurlish's legs began to shake, then shiver, more of her weight falling down on Evie by the second. She took several stumbling steps backward, dragging Evie with her, until her thighs hit the cot.

  She colpsed backward on it with a whine. Evie's head was pulled up along with her as if physically attached, no compromise to be found in the orc's iron grip. She kept licking, sucking, delighting in the taste of her girlfriend, until finally an irritation at the far end of her mind forced its way to the forefront.

  With what she considered heroic resolve, she tore her mouth away from Hurlish's cunt. "Yellow," she gasped.

  "Mmmhuh?" Hurlish inquired, raising her head from the cot. "What's up?"

  "My leg is caught on one of the rugs. Could you turn me loose for a moment?"

  "Oh, sure. Fuckin' hurry, though."

  With her head released, Evie turned around to find how her ankle had gotten so terribly twisted up. She found the culprit, a loop of thread that had snagged her foot, and flicked her cws out to snip it with a distinctly personal growl.

  "Okay, Green," she gasped, turning back to Hurlish.

  "Good, cause- fuck!"

  Evie was already back in Hurlish's cunt, now using her hands as well as her tongue. She couldn't reach the orc's breasts from her position, so she left vishing them with their due attention as Hurlish's job, pinching the nub of the orc's hood with two fingers. Months ago, when Master had first acquired Evie, she wouldn't have had the presence of mind to do so. Now her fingers practically had minds of their owns, coordinating with her tongue so unconsciously that Evie was free to bask in the sensations their work earned her.

  Hurlish was so, so, wet. Wetter than the earlier scene had any expnation for, which meant she'd been aching with need ever since Evie had teased her earlier that afternoon. The smith's stamina was normally legendary– at least until Master filled her with cum, which always demolished Hurlish's composure– but there would be none of that long-windedness tonight, Evie knew. The orc's thighs were already trembling against Evie's cheeks, her pants raising in pitch until they were nearly squeaky.

  As if sensing Evie's realization at how close she was, Hurlish's grip on her scalp loosened, shifting to the sides.

  To her ears.

  Knowing she would need it, Evie took a deep breath.

  The tips of Hurlish's fingers dug into the thin yer of muscle at the base of her ears, ruining Evie's fwless rhythm as she involuntarily shoved her head up into the pressure. She'd never been able to describe adequately to Master and Hurlish what it felt like. As best she could compare it, having her ears ravished was like... a deep tissue massage, at the very moment a knot came undone, but without any crescendo or decline to the pleasure. The moment a fine chocote began to melt in the mouth, spreading over the tongue, but across her entire body, turning her muscles loose and useless.

  Hurlish dug deeper. White-hot jets of liquid delight raced down her scalp, to the muscles of her neck, radiating out to her arms and through her shoulderbdes, twin comets of pleasure pulsing through the muscles of her back before meeting at the base of her tail.

  She whined like a whore in heat into Hurlish's cunt, her jaw falling sck while her tongue involuntarily curled upward, pressing into the spot she had been saving for the grand finale. Her arms began to tremble even harder than Hurlish's thighs as the orc rolled her knuckles up and down her ears, shoving Evie's head from side to side like she was handling an animal. Evie was helpless to resist the debasing treatment, so lost that only long practice kept her tongue pumping forward, her fingers circling Hurlish's clit.

  With an abruptness like Evie had never seen from the woman, Hurlish's core tightened. The orc rose up in the bed as her stomach convulsed, her eyes wrenched shut and her mouth opened in an O.

  Evie kept pumping, her knees failing her as Hurlish's fingers very nearly dug too hard into her ears, and all the while, she watched her girlfriend, staring up at her from between her thighs exactly as she knew the orc loved.

  Just when Hurlish's pounding orgasm began to fade, she opened her eyes, catching sight of Evie. They locked eyes, Hurlish's darkened in lust, Evie's in profound satisfaction.

  "Fuck! Fucking- fucking just- like- thaaaat!"

  Hurlish was hit by a second crest before the first finished, mindlessly dragging Evie up into her p. Evie tried to stay buried in Hurlish's cunt, to feel her convulse on her tongue, but it wasn't like she could resist the orc's strength at the best of times. She was helpless to do anything other than be cradled in Hurlish's p as the orc's orgasm roared through her, muscles rippling, gasps falling from her lips. Evie was pressed against the swell of her stomach, where their child was growing, and was held there like the most precious treasure in all the world.

  With how hard Hurlish was coming, Evie supposed the woman probably believed she was.

  Evie's clothes, which she'd never removed, were being progressively soaked by Hurlish's slick as the orc cradled her in pce, gasps falling to profanities, then murmured words, the orc rocking them both back and forth.

  "Oh- oh, fuck. Fucking hells. Fucking Evie. Fuuucking... fucking good Kitty..."

  Evie smiled, no longer fighting the treatment.

  "Swear to fucking... the gods, all of 'em– gonna fucking marry you-"

  "Of course," Evie hummed.

  "Oh, gods, don't be so fucking smarmy right now-" Hurlish suddenly reached down and seized the middle of Evie's overshirt, hauling her up onto the bed. The orc fell onto her back as she deposited Evie's face between her breasts, which– apparently– had been bared at some point. Evie smirked and turned her head to the side, taking a nipple in her mouth.

  A sharp sp knocked her off.

  "Bad Kitty. Too sensitive. Just... enjoy the tits..."

  Evie chuckled, but did as she was told. She settled her chin in the deep valley between Hurlish's breasts. Hurlish was concerned that her pregnancy would see them becoming unmanageably rge, a concern that Evie couldn't bring herself to empathize with. They were too wonderful already. Why wouldn't she want more of them?

  When the orc's breathing finally stabilized, Evie became aware of a purr rumbling out of her chest. She didn't know when it had begun, but it wasn't something she had any control over. She just let it happen as Hurlish stroked her hair.