Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 12

After a few seconds, during which she sucked down several deep breaths, the young orc pushed through her lips again, slowly but surely lodging himself to the root inside her throat. Three fingers shoved into her quim, the resultant soft moan muffled.

Fulg managed to rein in his instincts, keeping up the slow and steady pace for the next few minutes. His cock slid insistently over her tongue, plenty of pre-cum dribbling out onto her taste buds, the mass of meat slithering down her throat until she was gurgling helplessly, her fingers frigging harder down between her thighs. Every subsequent retreat was just as cautious, the young orc holding off on roughness for now.

The princess had become used to and hungry for what the orcs could unleash upon her.

But this slow, careful treatment still elicited shudders and squeals from her.

Instead of a frenetic brutality that tested her body's limits, this was a gentle and tentative treatment, one that she could appreciate for the details. The slow pace meant that she could focus on the passage of that thickness, on how the veined flesh throbbed in response to the movement of her tongue and the massive girth forced her mouth to stretch further with each inch.

She came several times, helped along by her fingers, juices squelching around the digits. Her moans made him grunt, the sharpness of his teeth visible as his lips curled back.

His commitment to a mindful throat-fuck was admirable, but it was easy to see his restraint crumbling with each subsequent slow intrusion, until it was entirely gone. The growls sounded deeper and angrier, the passion in his eyes grew brighter and wilder, and the hand at her braid tightened.

With a rude yank, the entire length was torn from her throat.

The sudden shift in behavior jarred her, but she kept her mouth open for the following thrust, this one hard and rough, his testicles smacking against her chin.

Fulg growled, pulling back quickly to drive forward again, his fierce gaze making her mewl softly. The hand at her braid tightened once again. His hips arched back, emptying her for one quick second, before another thrust sent him to the base in her gullet. She gagged nastily, the muscles of her throat struggling around the intruder.

The rhythm became rougher and wilder, Fulg establishing a demanding pace, shoving deep into her, not even fully leaving her mouth on the retreat. Such ferocity thrilled the princess, who was left swooning, another orgasm washing over her, the fingers inside her panties working tirelessly.

Whatever consideration there had been moments earlier as to her fragility was now replaced by a bestial impatience. The young orc hunched over her, using her throat as a sheath for his shaft, groaning from the sensations.

This sort of savagery was what she had grown accustomed to. This undignified position, on her knees before a lustful orc, had become a daily delight for her. Whether it was a thick cock or a juicy cunt, she wallowed in whorishness, thoroughly enjoying the submission to whoever was before her.

A bonus for this situation was the semi-public nature of where they were. The back of the stables provided some privacy, but anyone could discover them if they simply slipped behind the stalls. Gwennalyn could hear the occasional stable hand moving about, her wanton mind hoping that they might wander back and see the proceedings. The young orc was far from quiet, his grunts and snorts loud enough to draw attention from anyone with keen ears.

Yet another climax set her cunt creaming onto her fingers. Her adoring gaze up to Fulg was answered by his feral snarl, his hips pumping hard, the girthy shaft stretching her throat, leaving her choking when it fully skewered her, dripping lines of slimy saliva each time it pulled back, some of the mess landing on the front of her tunic, leaving the brown fabric spotted with wetness.

The pace upped again. His balls whacked rudely against her chin with each thrust, leaving her moaning with glee, enjoying her punishment, imagining that Fulg was putting her in her place for her relentless teasing. The princess was now unable to summon those same sultry come-ons, taking his thickness down her throat as she was.

The end of this round came abruptly, as Fulg hilted once more, and stilled.

His load burst out a moment later, firing down into her belly, the spurts intensely hot. He used his grip on her braid to grind her face against the base of his cock, leaving her choking at the abuse.

The roughness was in turn quickly replaced by the previous concern once the ecstasy dissipated. The retreat out from her throat was slow and careful, his hand leaving her braid, a hesitant expression appearing on his face.

"Are you okay, princess?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"

She leaned forward, rubbing her cheek against his softening meat.

"I am wonderful," came her answer, "thank you, Fulg."

He nodded, relief etching itself across his features.

"But I certainly hope you are not finished with me," she continued, "for my cunt needs the same treatment my throat just received."

Fulg gulped audibly.

"Please... Your seed warms my belly. Now let it warm my womb."

Thanks to these orcs, I've certainly gotten better at begging.

He nodded again but gestured to his limp length, the size still impressive despite the softness.

"You'll 'ave to gi' me a sec."

She nodded back.

"Can I suck your balls until then?"

He was again caught by surprise by her whorishness.

"Uh, sure."

With a saucy giggle, she lifted his cock, and latched her lips onto the full orbs beneath. The ripe flavor made her quiver, her fingers starting to work again at her slit. Fulg grunted in surprise, marveling at how shamelessly she slurped at the fat sacks, at the dumbly happy look on her face, at the little coos muffled by her mouthfuls. Her knees pressed into the strewn-about hay as she crammed several fingers back inside her drenched quim, the digits already coated in her juices. With her other hand, the one wrapped around the thick length, she began to stroke idly, coaxing it back to formidability.

It did not take long for the fearsome member to return to erectness. The princess felt its rise, the flesh swelling in her grip, easily dwarfing her fingers. Once it reached its full size, whorish instinct led her to let go, staring up admiringly at the fat shaft, its veined flesh so close to her face, the girth blocking out her view of Fulg's face.

He let her indulge, her mouth working around the fat sacks, drool running down her chin from her efforts.

As much as she enjoyed sucking at his balls, that fat shaft was so close, once again ready to hammer her until she was senseless. Many of the other orcs she had submitted to would have thrown her down and mounted her the moment they were ready.

Perhaps he's not as keen to do that. I may have to beg again...

She let go of her mouthfuls, breathing in his musk, lines of drool still connecting her lips to the sacks.

As Fulg watched, she turned around, and got on all fours, quickly tugging her trousers and panties down around her knees.

"Please, Fulg," she begged, "my cunt is dripping. Give it a hard cock. Please..."

A peek over her shoulder revealed his lustfulness battling his restraint again. He moved up behind her. The careful way that he took hold of her hips clued her in to his inclination to be gentle, but the low grunts and flashing hunger in his eyes were evidence of his baser nature struggling to break free.

The head of his length nudged against her slit.

Just like with her mouth, he was careful at first, pushing past the clasping entrance, grunting at the way her walls wrapped around him.

However, the sleek and slick snugness of her quim proved too much for him.

Only the first few inches had slipped inside from his initial entry.

Once his hands tightened at her hips, she glanced over her shoulder to take in the snarl across his features.

"Fuck me, Fulg, please, take my cunt, claim it as yours, please..."

With a grunt, he swung his hips forward, driving more of that meat into her. Her exultant cry was loud and tremulous, the princess relishing how he forced his way deeper, asserting his authority over her, ignoring the smothering tightness to shove further inside. She was already on the precipice of orgasm, her hands clenching around fistfuls of hay, her bare knees scraping against the floor.

The next thrust hilted him and provoked another burst of ecstasy for the helpless princess. The sensations were intense and acute, that spear of flesh tearing her open and keeping her walls stretched, its subtle throbbing sending out waves into her core. Her ambrosia streamed out around the base of his member, dappling his testicles as well. There was only a strained gasping coming from her, the princess battered by the cascading delirium.

The thick meat dragged back, but Fulg did not wait long before he hilted again. A ragged cry spilled from her, matched then by his satisfied grunt. Again, he retreated only to crash forward, this time harder.

The princess luxuriated in her submission as the young orc fucked her. His cock drove to the base inside her clutching heat, filling her so wonderfully, leaving her panting for breath, her belly clenching around the invader, her arms and legs trembling from the exertion of keeping her up against the thrusts.

And then she fell forward, her feeble strength unable to maintain itself in the face of his savagery.

He adjusted quickly, moving to fully mount her, his hips rocking into the squirming princess, one hand landing on her head, keeping it pinned down against the floor. Her soft cries trailed off into pitiful mewls. More climaxes assailed her, the sticky nectar of her quim splattering around the incessant thrusts. The length slid back and forth, stimulating her walls, the bulbous head pounding her channel into a juicy pulp. There was no place for her to go, his weight and rough rhythm holding her body down, but she did not care.

The steady stream of eager orcs had spoiled her. Soon after the end of one round of debauchery would come the craving for another.

She had been woken up in the morning by the two shipyard workers who had shared her bed the previous night, the insistent duo tugging her into their desired position, her tiredness evaporating once the vicious spit-roast had begun.

But the satisfaction of submission had faded quickly, leaving her aching for more subjugation.

That ache was being soothed now by Fulg, who was busy pummeling her quim with his thickness, rutting fiercely, lost to the pleasure. She wanted to urge him on, but every time she opened her mouth, a deep thrust stole her air, rendering her speechless, able only to sputter weakly. As caught up in the moment as he was, there was no need to motivate him, the embrace of her soaked cunt more than enough to keep him fucking her.

Constant climaxes left her a drooling, shuddering mess. His hand exerted a harsh pressure on her head, the sensation edging into pain, the hurt mingling with the thrills.

Gwennalyn was happy and content in the moment. The only important matters were his cock and its ravaging of her. The euphoric dizziness that she felt was ultimately unimportant. Her enjoyment of this brutality was for her secondary to his.

Underneath his weight, she wriggled restlessly, her fingers and toes curling at each thrust. The grip that his other hand had on her hip was assertive and strong, keeping her thrashing legs from dislodging him as he plowed incessantly into her.

And then Fulg stilled, with his member hilted.

She whimpered, hoping that this heralded an oncoming load of fresh seed.

But there came no such treat.

The young orc grunted, squeezing harder on her head as he ground his hips against hers, using his fat meat to stretch her channel out further. Daily use had helped her body adjust to orcish whims, but this abuse was still overwhelming. Her cunt creamed helplessly, the walls clenching and seizing, yet another climax washing over her. The pain from his insistent hand only fed into the ecstasy, creating pure pleasure that made it extend. Fulg kept himself buried inside her, enjoying how the confines of her womanhood were wrapped so tightly around him, how the slim fragility of her frame was crushed beneath him, how the juices mined from her quim streamed forth to dapple his balls.

And then the indulgence ended.

The savage rhythm replaced it, his formidable spear dragging back to drive deep, impaling her again, drawing a shriek from her. He groaned hoarsely as he began to fuck her, plunging mindlessly into her sodden depths.

Time passed, but she was only able to measure it in the punishing thrusts that slammed her against the ground, in the ceaseless orgasms that sent shivers along her wracked frame, in the times Fulg switched to stretching her channel out with his cock before returning to the frenetic fucking. He took a certain delight in grinding down against her stretched slit and hearing the meek whimpers that would fall from her gasping lips. The thick fingers of his hand obscured half her mouth, muffling some of those noises, as well as the lewd cries that followed whenever he began to rut into her again. That hand was still forcing her head down against the ground, the pain provoking unbidden tears to spill, her body reacting on behalf of her masochistic mind.

Every so often, a rustling would sound from the other side of the stalls. Even in her lust-drunk stupor, Gwennalyn was able to notice, trying to peek around his fingers, hoping it was another stable hand who might stumble upon them.

But none of those rustlings resulted in such a thing.

Whatever disappointment that might have resulted in was quickly overshadowed by the effort that Fulg put forth in further ruining her quim.

The next time he stilled, again burying himself entirely inside her, she was ready to feel that member grinding against her, the ache that such abuse created in her core an agonizing sweetness.

A few seconds later, thanks to the spasmodic throbbing of his meat, she realized that he had finally reached his peak.

There was no time to beg, no time to do anything but moan in whorish abandon as he bred her. His hand again exerted its strength against her temple, pressing it into the ground, more pain swirling in with the incandescent bliss. She cried out, her body shuddering underneath him, impaled securely on his fearsome length, taking spurt after spurt into her vanquished cunt.

It took Fulg a long time to come back down to rationality. His orgasm was powerful and his seed plentiful, leaving her womb sloshing, filled to the brim and beyond. There was no mercy during the insemination, his hand still pressing down, his hips still making sure she was skewered on his shaft.

When he moved away, it was too quick, his weight suddenly lifting off her, his length sliding unceremoniously from her. She mewled weakly, jerking at the abrupt emptiness, her lower half slumping down to join the rest of her, her legs splaying apart as much as the yanked-down trousers would allow.

"Princess?" came his worried voice, "are you alright?"

She giggled blearily.

"Did I hurt you?"

"Yes, but it felt so good..."

He sputtered something unintelligible, scuffling backwards, away from her.

"What's all this then?" came another voice from next to the stall.

"So that's what those noises were," a second voice said.

"Come now, Fulg," a third voice joined in, "were you hiding her from us?"

"How unfair," the second voice added.

Fulg sputtered further, at a loss for words.

"Look at that," the first voice marveled, walking closer to the princess, "he seeded her good."

"You know," the third voice cut in, "I've been wondering if I could get a crack at her."

"Yeah," the second voice agreed, "guess she fucked her way through all the guards."

Gwennalyn purred, ecstatic that more orcs were here, these ones ready to use her.

"What do you say, princess?" the first voice asked cheekily. "Want more?"

She bit her lip, reaching a hand down to stroke at her slit, already dribbling Fulg's seed.

"He bred me," came her plaintive whine, "but it's leaking out, and I need more. Please..."

The first voice chuckled, moving closer now.

After a few seconds, another weight settled atop her.

The orc lined himself up to her entrance.

With one rough shove, she was again impaled. The orc began to pump immediately, grunting in satisfaction at her joyful shriek and the embrace of her quim.

"Give me more!" she cried, "give me all your seed, please!"

Gwennalyn padded along down the corridor. Clad now in a dress of shimmering blue instead of her riding clothes, the princess was the ideal picture of a young woman of the age, refined, graceful, and sophisticated.

After spending the better part of the afternoon being rutted into the ground in the back of the stables, she had returned to her room. Her handmaiden had been elsewhere.

Probably with Baltar.

Left to her own devices, the princess had spent time reading one of her books, this one a tome about the formation of the Free Lands, chock full of the legendary exploits of some of her ancestors, like Warwick Castell, the founder of the kingdom, and his sisters Arrowhead Alleryn and Arabella Iceblood, who had fought and spied, respectively, during the Freedom War.

Although it would have been lovely to spend the evening reading and relaxing, she had earlier in the week been invited to dine with Sir Hathwell, recently appointed by her father as the ambassador to Valenzis, and his wife. Her first instinct had been to decline such an invitation, but to do so would have been a breach of etiquette, even if done so politely. Thus, the dinner was currently serving as a reminder of her responsibilities as princess, which persisted even away from home. Where with the orcs and Deiara she could be her whorish self, with the couple, who were dedicated subjects of her father, she would have to act the proper lady.

For all I know, Sir Hathwell might report back to my father if I act strangely.

Thankfully, the Horns lived on the other side of the castle grounds, far enough away that she had yet to encounter either of them, an orc attendant arranging the dinner on their behalf.

Ahead of her now stood two guards, chatting idly. When they noticed her, smirks broke out across their lips.

"Hello!" she chirped gaily.

"Ah, there you are, princess," one of them said.

"We were hoping you could settle a debate for us," the other told her.

"What is the debate?"

The first orc nodded over to his comrade.

"Yogg here thinks you prefer taking it up the ass."

Yogg chuckled.

"But," his fellow guard continued, "I think you prefer to have your cunt stretched out."

"Which one is it?" Yogg asked. "Kurvos bet me a flagon of ale, and I'm thirsty."

She smiled, sidling up in between them.

"Well," she began, "there's nothing quite like being mounted by a strong orc, having him pound my quim until he claims my womb, squirting his seed right into me, trying to make me heavy with his whelp."

Just the thought made her quiver, pressing herself against Kurvos now, her hand resting on his broad chest. The orc grinned triumphantly, looking over her to his fellow guard.

"See? Told you."

"But," she continued, moving to Yogg, biting her lip, "sodomy is outlawed in the Free Lands, and frowned upon by the gods, so it is tremendously scandalous to have a ruthless orc tear my asshole open and treat me like a bought whore. I cum so hard when that happens..."

Yogg chuckled.

"So, which is it, princess?" Kurvos asked impatiently.

She smiled back to him.

"I cannot decide. I enjoy them both equally."

"I have an idea," Yogg told his fellow guard, "I'll fuck her ass, and then you take her cunt, and we'll see which one of us she cums harder for."