Elven Love Slave Ch. 01

Author's note: the chapters of this story can have quite a bit of exposition, as the characters are intended to be more fleshed out. If you just want the sexy bits, no worries: the sex usually occurs at the end of each chapter.

An Orc's Elven Love Slave Chapter 1

Aronea moved swiftly about her kitchen, arranged in the typical fashion for a small Elven village, stirring the stew for her husband Callon and adding spices as he always instructed her to. It makes no difference, she thought to herself dejectedly; he always complained no matter what she did. She pulled her silvery hair back behind her pointed Elven ears to keep it away from the stew and kept working.

Her marriage to her husband had been arranged for her at a very young age, as was customary for Elven families living in the countryside. Her family was of modest means and Aronea had never been especially sought after; while she had a pleasant face, Elven men preferred their women petite and slender, with a slim frame and a slight backside. Aronea was anything but that -- she was very tall for an Elven woman, with a thick, ample body. Her breasts too full, her hips too wide, and her butt far too large for Elven tastes, she had an elegant Elven nose, pale blue eyes, and a light, milky complexion.

She stood nearly a foot taller than her husband, and Callon had always resented her for it. Although Aronea had grown accustomed to it, her husband constantly belittled her for her stature, and mocked her wide hips and bottom as signs of low breeding. In truth, Callon had never shown her much tenderness or love at all, but that was hardly surprising given her lot in life; Callon gave her a home and a bed, and that was all one could ask for.

Just as the stew came to a boil, Aronea heard Callon squawk from their other room, heard him get up and move about, and she momentarily feared he might be coming to berate her. Then she heard more yelling coming from outside, and she hesitantly moved to her kitchen window. At first she saw nothing, but heard a distant, strange drumbeat. After a moment, she saw fire begin to leap from the roofs of two nearby houses, saw other villagers fleeing something -- and then heard the guttural, unmistakable bellow of an Orc. The village was being raided!

Aronea screamed in alarm and called for Callon, and she rushed from her kitchen in such a hurry that she knocked over her stew pot. When she entered their living quarters, she again pleaded for her husband, but was met with silence. Panicked, Aronea briefly looked outside hoping Callon was waiting for her there; to her horror, he was nowhere to be found.

As the crashing sounds grew closer, she decided she had no choice, so she ran back to her window and squeezed herself out of it, hoping to avoid detection, but she was too late; as soon as Aronea stood up, a huge, hulking Orc loomed above her.

"Please!" she cried, and held up her hands for mercy.

The Orc seemed to look at her for a moment, considering. Then she saw him lift his huge club above his head, and the world went black.

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It had been days since the assault, and for Aronea, her village already seemed a distant memory. The captives from the raid, all women, sat with feet bound and hands tied by ropes to poles in a tent in the Orcish camp. The women's clothing was torn and burned from the assault, some of them exposed far more than they wished to be.

All the Elven men were gone; Aronea learned that her husband Callon had quickly escaped when he saw the Orcs approaching, without even making the faintest attempt to warn her. The remaining women looked around with equal parts fatigue and fear. They knew from the primitive Elvish the Orcs had communicated with that they would be divvied up as slaves by the conquering warriors. Tonight was that time -- she would soon discover which of these huge creatures would claim her as their own.

As evening approached, the captive tent began to fill with Orcish soldiers. Aronea looked around uneasily. All these Orcs, both male and female, were monstrous, ugly, heavily muscled beasts, and she dreaded the thought of being chosen by any of them. She supposed she hoped that she was chosen by a female, but their faces were not much kinder than the males'.

Once the sun had fully set, the auctions began. The first Elven woman, a petite Elf Aronea did not know with purple markings on her face, was brought up on the auctioneer's pedestal. The girl, like the rest of the prisoners, looked terrified and exhausted.

The Orcs began yelling in the Orcish tongue she did not understand, and the Elven girl began to whimper. The yelling went on for some time. Finally, a winner was declared, and the Elven woman was shown to her new master. The Elf looked up at him, and he reached around her, placing a collar with engravings Aronea did not recognize around her neck.

The girl was led away, and another small Elf was placed upon the pedestal. The yelling began anew. One by one this proceeded, each woman being placed in a collar and led away by their new owners. After a dozen women had gone, Aronea's turn came, and the auctioneer grabbed her arm and roughly shoved her on to the pedestal.

Aronea felt a rock in the pit of her stomach as she looked upon the remaining Orcs -- one of these creatures would claim her, and each looked more brutish than the last. The auctioneer shouted something in Orcish, and the bidding began. As the Orcs began to examine her, Aronea suddenly felt very naked; she made a pathetic attempt to cover herself, but the auctioneer moved her hands away. The Orcs began yelling more loudly, and then more loudly still. Aronea sensed these Orcs were particularly keen to own her, but she could not understand why.

One Orc yelled something at the auctioneer; the trader quickly got up and grabbed Aronea again by the arm, turning her around for the Orcs to look at her from every angle. The Orcs had not done this to other girls, and she did not know what it meant. While Aronea had been trying desperately not to cry, the sea of ferocious Orcish faces before her finally broke her. She began to sob. Why had Callon left her? She thought. Why did he abandon me to this fate? As she was twisted this way and that, the Orcish yelling reached a fever pitch. Aronea could not quiet her crying.

Suddenly, from the back of the tent, came a strong, deep voice from an Orc she could not see. Immediately there was silence; the other Orcs stopped fighting over her, and a path parted for the Orc to come forward. Aronea saw him for the first time -- he was especially heavily muscled and very tall, with a fully shaven head, dark grey skin, a broad nose, and a strong jaw line. His yellow, piercing eyes looked intently at her. Even for an Orc, he looked incredibly fierce, and it was clear all the other Orcs deferred to him. Aronea's bindings were undone, and she was taken down from the pedestal. She quickly soothed her wrists and stood timidly.

The huge Orc came toward her, reached out his hand, and in that deep, strong voice, spoke in perfect Elvish.

"Come. You are mine, now."

Aronea was so shocked to hear him speak her native tongue that she took his hand instinctively. Despite her height for an Elf, her hand was dwarfed in his, and his dark grey skin tone was an extreme contrast to her pale, milky hue. The Orc led Aronea aside, and a path was made in front of them. Another Orc handed her new master one of those strange collars, and he came forward with it. He spoke again in perfect Elvish.

"This is a collar of command, and it binds your will to mine. It marks you as my own." He reached out much more gently than she expected, giving Aronea time to stretch her neck out.

The collar snapped around her.

"Does it hurt?" The Orc asked.

"No, I think...." She stammered confusedly, overwhelmed by the situation. "No, it is fine. It doesn't hurt."

Aronea began drying her eyes. The Orc smiled and turned to the other Orcs in the tent. He bellowed something in Orcish, and the other Orcs resumed their cheering and chanting. Only then did Aronea notice that the tent had remained almost completely silent since the moment her new master had spoken out.

With the cheering in the tent resumed, the Orc held out his hand once again. "Come, then. I will lead you to your new home."

As auctions began again for the remaining Elven women, the Orc held open the tent flap and led Aronea out into the night -- anxious and afraid, she followed.

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The Orc walked Aronea through the encampment in the darkness, and as he did so, she learned that his name was Varod, son of the King Korgak. Varod was now the Warchief of the Frostbear Orc clan, and he ruled over several united Orcish tribes. It explained why the other Orcs deferred to him so readily.

From birth, Varod's father had been preparing his son to rule in his place, and it was through these teachings that Varod had learned Elvish. He was incredibly articulate; the Orc's Elvish was better than many of the Elves she lived with in the countryside. She had been led to believe that all Orcs were brutish, dim-witted monsters, but this Orc, at least, was not.

Since taking command himself, Varod had already proven an immensely capable general; while Orcs and Elves had been at war for generations, Varod had led the Orcs to a slew of conquests, and Aronea's village was one of these.

Eventually, they arrived at Aronea's new home -- a large Orcish fortress, or perhaps a palace, larger than any building Aronea had ever seen in the Elven countryside. She could not help but gawk at its vaulted stone arches. The palace had a brutal aesthetic, comprised mostly of rock, wood and bone, but it was grand in its own way.

As she looked about, she noticed Varod was staring at her; his eyes were intense, and she did not understand what it meant. Varod walked the Elf through the Palace until they reached a heavy wooden door, and Varod led her inside. It was a large bedroom with an equally large bed.

Aronea suddenly worried that Varod was pawning her to some other Orcish noble. At least this one could speak her tongue. She turned to Varod fearfully.

"What..." she stammered, suddenly remembering the Orc's title. "Master, what is this place?"

"It will be your slave quarters," Varod replied.

Aronea mouth fell open. She was stunned; this is not how she expected slaves to be treated. Elven Warriors had captured many Orcs in their time, and they were certainly not this generous to Orcish prisoners. She looked around the room, larger than the hut she and her husband had lived in, and then back at Varod.

"Are... are all slaves treated this way?" she asked timidly.

Varod shook his head. "Not all. But I lead the tribes now, and our ways are changing." He paused. "The other captives will not be harmed."

Aronea almost breathed a sigh of relief: she had feared the dungeons, or worse, but she could not hide her confusion. She stood still for a moment, trying to understand what was happening. Finally, she asked the question that bothered her most.

"Master, why did you choose me?"

He paused for a moment, looking at her, considering. Those yellow eyes stared into her. After a long silence, he spoke.

"Because you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen," he said flatly.

It was then Aronea understood the intensity of Varod's gaze, and she became nervous once more. Varod's nostrils flared, and he was breathing heavily. She could see his massive muscles tensing as he looked upon her, his gaze traveling up and down her soft, voluptuous body. She remembered once again that her Elven clothes were in tatters, and much of her body was plain to see.

Her insecurity returned. She had always been ashamed of her body, but Varod leered at her in a way that no Elven man ever had. It was plain that he very much desired her. She noticed, underneath his Orcish leggings, that a large bulge was growing in Varod's pants. Aronea began to breathe heavily on her own, both uncertain and nervous.

Finally, Varod spoke again. "Take off what remains of your clothes."

Here, Aronea hesitated. She did not know what she expected as a slave, but it had not been this. Orcs were much larger than Elves, and typically saw Elves as enemies, not potential mates. Perhaps her uncommon height had changed that; she was still at least a foot shorter than Varod, but much closer to him than most Elven women. Varod stared intently at her, and his voice grew forceful. He leaned in imposingly.

"Take off your clothes," he commanded.

The collar around Aronea's neck began to heat up rapidly; frightened, Aronea felt at her neck and realized what was happening. She quickly took the tatters of her Elven dress off, leaving her completely exposed. She futilely tried to cover her full breasts and her sex with her hands.

Varod remained silent and continued looking at her intently with those hungry, lustful eyes --even Aronea's husband had never looked at her that way. He stepped closer to her, and she could feel the heat radiating from his huge, Orcish body. Varod reached out, and Aronea flinched; she feared a rough grab like that of the auctioneer, but instead he gently placed his hand upon her waist. He lightly stroked her hip and belly, and Aronea shivered.

After a moment, Varod stepped back again. Confused, Aronea's pointed ears flicked reflexively. She felt overwhelmed by all that was happening, and her heart was fluttering; this Orc was huge and fierce, and she could hardly forget that she was his prisoner. But her bedroom was beautiful, his touch was gentle, and feeling so desired made her feel heady. She knew that Varod could force himself upon her at any moment with her collar, yet he stood and patiently waited. Slowly, Aronea let her hands fall from her breasts, and she left herself nude in front to him.

Varod looked upon her body a moment longer, then began to disrobe. The Orc took off his shirt, and his dark muscles rippled across his chest. His chest and shoulders were broad and strong and tapered to his well-defined, equally muscular abdomen. Varod then removed his leggings, revealing his thick, brawny legs, and his Orcish cock sprung forward.

Aronea could not help but stare -- Varod's member was huge and fully erect. Dark grey like the rest of the Orc, it was covered in veiny bumps and ridges. It was much less elegant than her husband's penis, but he must have been twice the size of any Elven man. Heart still fluttering, a wave of trepidation washed over Aronea; she was not sure that thing would even fit in her.

"Master," she said, her lips trembling, "I... I do not know if I... I do not know if we can mate," she said. She hoped he might relent.

Varod was undeterred. He reached down and effortlessly lifted her into his arms, gently placing her on the bed. Aronea could not calm her nervousness; she was accustomed to her much shorter, slighter husband, while Varod was much taller than she and enormously strong. She felt dwarfed by him. Sensing her fear, Varod again placed his hand softly on her belly and gently stroked it, as if to soothe her. Her belly lightly convulsed again at his touch. His yellow eyes stared into her pale blue ones.

"You must calm yourself," he said. He looked at her more intensely again. "Calm."

Aronea felt her collar around her neck once more, and felt it urging her to obey. Slowly, she melted into the bed, and her breathing became lighter. She was still anxious, but she could tell that Varod did not mean to harm her. Varod moved his hand from her belly to her pale thighs, and continued lightly stroking her. She shivered. He gently moved his strokes toward her sex, and she looked up into his eyes again. Slowly, her legs splayed open for him, and the huge Orc got up and moved his face between her legs.

Aronea had not anticipated Varod would be so gentle with her. The collar had been necessary to force Aronea to relax, but gradually she was relaxing of her own accord. The Orc stroked her inner thighs, then began tenderly kissing and licking the lips of her pussy. Taken aback by the tenderness of his touch, Aronea lightly sighed. Varod moved his tongue along the length of her sex, eventually flicking across her clit. Aronea's husband almost never engaged her like this; he was rarely concerned for anything but his own satisfaction.

The huge Orc kissed at her slit gently yet incessantly, and without realizing it, Aronea began to writhe and convulse under his ministrations. She had not known how broad Orcish tongues were, and she began to moan more loudly. Varod did not relent; he kissed and licked at her with increasing fervor, running his thick tongue over her folds, then swirling it over her clit, until Aronea became fully lost in the moment. He developed a rhythm, running his tongue over her inner lips, then over her clit, and then back again. Aronea's breathing became ragged. As he brought his tongue back up and rolled it over her button once again, she instinctively reached her hands down to grasp his shaven head, and then convulsed and spasmed in orgasm. He held himself there, letting the waves of pleasure pass over her.

After letting her recover, Varod stood up, cleaned the juices from his Orcish face, and lifted her up once more. Aronea yipped in confusion, but he quickly lay on the bed himself and placed her on top of him.

"You are ready now," he said to reassure her, and gestured for her to place his member inside her.

In this position, at least she could control the depth herself. As her silver hair tumbled on to Varod's face, she felt between her legs for his penis and stroked it gently. She felt those bumps and ridges along its sides. It was surprisingly pleasant to the touch; the girth and size meant she could not enclose it with one hand. She began to get nervous again, and her Elven ears twitched.

"I... don't know if it will fit, Master," she said candidly as she continued to stroke him, both amazed and intimidated by its size.

He looked up at her, "Elven babies come from there, yes?"

She paused, then nodded.

"I will not hurt you. Calm," he said.

She felt her collar compelling her once more. Aronea took a long breath, relaxed, and began to guide his penis into her.

Aronea looked down to see, to her astonishment, as the swollen, bulbous head of his Orcish cock spread open her sex and pushed inside. Wet and loosened as she was, Aronea's pussy accepted it much more readily than she expected. The thickness of the penis stretched her pussy to its limits, and the odd bumps and ridges meant she could feel every little motion, stimulating her walls as it moved deeper into her. She took in only a third of it at first, but then slowly began sinking down further on Varod's member. With each inch that entered her, she whimpered anew. It stretched her more fully than she had ever felt, and though she was ashamed to admit it, it felt very, very good.

As Aronea gradually pushed more of it inside her, Varod grabbed the Elf by her hips and started gently thrusting. This caught Aronea by surprise all over again, and she let out another series of whimpers. The feeling was profound -- slightly painful, but intensely pleasurable. She rocked back and forth softly as Varod thrust further and further into her.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the Orc's member was buried entirely in her pussy. Aronea could hardly believe it fit, and the way it stretched her and pressed against her interior walls with its ridges felt exquisite. Varod allowed the Elf to stop for a little while, her full, pale bottom now resting against his thighs. Aronea closed her eyes and concentrated on the pleasure.

After a moment, the Elf began moving again on her own. She shifted her hips back and forth, keeping the Orcish cock buried entirely inside her, grinding her pelvis against his, feeling her clit rub gently against his hard, muscular body. She placed a pale Elven hand upon his chest for support, which looked small and graceful against his broad, dark chest. Aronea began panting as she ground against him, and her Elven ears wilted downward in concentration. To her shock, she was nearing another orgasm.