Domination of the Orcs: Ch. 01

In the great Celestial Hall, home of the gods, a battle raged. Futargh, the Twin-Pronged, goddess of the orcs, grappled with Huma, goddess of humanity, love and magic. The two had fought for eons, neither able to gain an upper hand against the other, both equally matched. But today, all of that would change.

As the shining goddess strained against her foe, Futargh shifted her stance, her footing becoming more solid. Futargh's giant bat-like wings flapped, loosing a gust of mighty wind that caused entire galaxies to wink out of existence, as even more were born in their wake. Huma fell to her knees, and Futargh was quick to press advantage.

Meanwhile, Valorum, the human god of warriors and valor clashed with Mystica the Cockless, orcish goddess of shamans, medicine and magic. Much like their counterparts, these two had also struggled against each other, eternal enemies locked in a conflict without end. As Mystica grew distracted by Huma's fall, Valorum capitalized, knocking her to the floor.

As the two triumphant gods pinned their foes, Valorum couldn't help but watch in horror. Futargh stripped her foe, and brought her to her hands and knees. Exhausted, Huma could give no resistance as Futargh brought her twin cocks to bear. With one hand on her conquered foes hip, the other fisted in her hair, Futargh rammed her twin cocks to the hilt inside Huma's ass and cunt, asserting her dominance for all eternity. Two pairs of godly breasts swayed and jumped as Futargh claimed her prize, showing no mercy as she cleaved her holes open. Huma could do nothing but groan and grunt in pain and pleasure as her new mistress began to saw in and out of her grasping holes, the massive twin cocks delving deeper, stretching wider, than anything else ever had. Her orgasm struck and the universe shuddered. She dropped her divine head to the floor in resignation as her new mistress began to own her, forever.

Valorum, in a rage of vindictive revenge, drew his own foe to her hands and knees. Mystica groaned as his own manhood ravaged her cunt. Much like Huma, Mystica was now a slave of her conqueror forevermore, to take his lusts and rages within herself. As her own godly breasts swayed and jiggled beneath her, the massive human cock battering at her orcish womb, she grunted and wailed her own orgasm to the heavens, knowing as his godly seed splashed against her cervix, that she too was now utterly owned for all time. The two conquerors locked eyes across the Celestial Hall, sharing a look of mutual respect. Their eternal war had now irrevocably shifted, becoming akin to a friendly rivalry, a contest of skill.

As Valorum delved deep and unloaded his balls, and Futargh bottomed out, locking her twin knots into her own mount, the two conquered goddesses let out load moans of pain and ecstasy, all four knowing that this was the new reality.

The orc, or Homo sapiens orcana, is, like many species on Erde, vaguely humanoid in regards to shape. However, there are several small differences. For one, all orcs are female, possessing large mammary glandes, a wombe, and ovaries. The vast majority, in fact all orcs but one minor tribe, are also possessed of a phallus and testicles, all three objects being prodigious in size.

Large, being possessed of a height in excess of seven feete, the orc is also robustly muscled, and possessed of strength exceeding that of a growne man. Truly ferocious in battle, a full growne orc is a frighteningly unstoppable force, and prone to immense blood rages, the quenching of which can only occur after sexual congress.

The lady Anne Fairchilde, Duchess of Esterly, one of the eight duchies of Weslon, read the tome nervously, her hands shaking as the women-folk waited in the castle keep. On the Subject of Orcs, by Ser Willem Limpwick, the seminal work on everything to do with orcs, was a truly terrifying work.

Anne was a slight woman, her long blonde hair hung in ringlets down her pale back, which was as narrow as the rest of her. 18, she had taken over the ladyship after her father, her sole remaining parent, had been slaughtered by the orcs. She was truly tiny, with small pert breasts, and a small pert ass, but she was as beautiful as a summers day.

'Why am I torturing myself so?' She thought to herself. 'What will all this reading actually do to help me?'

Humanity had been at war with the orcs for centuries, and until five years ago, had managed to drive them off each time they pressed forward. Five years ago, a Great War-Chief had risen, a tactical genius, and she had lead the orcish hordes to victory after victory, sacking each and every town and city in the Great Weslon Empire. They had slaughtered all the men each time, and in the confusion and chaos, the women had all managed to escape to the Castle Springdawn, in Humar, the capital city.

It would seem that nothing could stop the onslaught. The orcs had invaded swiftly, and so far the warriors of men had failed to hold them back. Even now, the last of Weslon's men-folk were amassed outside the walls, in a last-ditch effort to drive back the orcs.

Anne nervously kept reading, anything to keep her mind off the impending doom hanging over them all.

On the subject of orcish congress, the writer shudders to divulge the lurid matters involved. Orcs must reproduce by claiming and dominating a mate. The aggression and adrenaline involved in violence stimulates the ovaries and testicles of the orc warrior, and is the only known means of inducing fertility. However, due to the stigma of submitting to a superior in orcish society, no orc will ever deign to carry a childe. This of course, due to the compatibility of all Erde's races, means that an orc must claim a female of another race in order to breed.

A vast cultural phenomenon has arisen around this practice, and an orc's prestige is measured in large part by the number of forcibly taken mates she has. These enslaved women, known as Thralls, are forced to endure the brunt of an orcs reproductive aggression. They serve no other purpose in orcish society than to generate offspring. Orcs are violently possessive of their Thralls, and will devolve into murderous rages if their Thrall is molested by a male or other orc.

Thralls are subjected to a process known as "the titillation", a testing period in which the orc will sodomize her Thrall unmercifully until she can determine that Thrall's suitability to be bred. This is a grueling process, given the 12" average length of the orc phallus. After a lengthy penetrative effort, the conquered woman is ridden most vigorously, until the orc reaches the state of hysterical paroxysm, during which a large, bulbous outgrowth at the base of the phallus is engorged with blood, sealing the orc inside her mount. This bulb, known as the knot, prevents both the escape of the Thrall and the inadvertent spilling of the copious seed the orc expells, and lasts anywhere from one to two hours.

On the subject of the Dravahk'ran, colloquially known as "the cockless", not much is known, other than that they will occasionally take a human male, who is never seen again.

As in all cross species matings, any females born will take the race of the mother, and any males born will take the race of the father.

'Great heavens!' Anne thought. Her ass clenched at the thought of this "titillation", this rampant sodomy. Anne had never considered that a woman could be used in this way, it was forbidden by the tenets of the Faith of Huma. Still.... To be owned in such a way sent a frisson of lust up Anne's spine.

Snapping the book shut, she looked around the small room. Containing the last of the high nobility, only eleven women were holed up here. Herself, the seven other duchesses, ladies Margot of Westfold, Mary of Southron, Nialla of Northreach, Shiera of the Greenlands, Isolde of Highmount, Bethany of the Ivory Coast, and Therese of Ironwood, the High Cleric of the Church of Huma, High Mother Theodora, the lady knight Sharona, First Sword of the Queen, and the Queen herself, Charlotte of Grimsley.

Ranging in age from 28, the age of Queen Charlotte, to 18, the age of lady Anne herself, the ladies of the high nobility were no less diverse in terms of body shape, from Anne's own spare thin frame, to the Queen's lush, matronly curves. A veritable sampler of female allure, Anne couldn't help but picture the sight of a massive orc dominating each of them. Her core clenched and she shuddered.

Queen Charlotte sat regally on the throne, presenting a calm and placid face to the ladies of her retinue. In reality, she was nerve wracked to her core. She knew exactly what fate was about to befall them, if the valiant men of Weslon were to fail. Charlotte had no illusions, they were losing this war, and she and her ladies were all prime specimens. For the millionth time, she thought of her husband, King Heinrich, and his gentle caresses. 'I do hope he is ok.' She thought to herself. 'When he wins, I must find a suitable way to reward him.' She smiled secretly to herself, her massive breasts hitching slightly as she shifted on her generous, soft bottom. She wondered if Alexander, bastard son of the king, still lived. A boy with no mother, she had helped to raise the boy into a man. And at 18, what a man he had become. He had his father's look about him, and had his birth been more opportune, he'd have made a fine prince.

Theodora was lost in frantic prayer, her anxiety growing with each unanswered request. Usually the goddess was ever present, but today she could feel nothing. 'Please, Goddess Huma, give me a sign! Give me some clue as to our fate!' The only answer she received was a bolt of lust straight to her nethers, a sensation that gave no comfort.

Sharona sat in quiet contemplation, her great sword held before her. She knew that, should violence come, it was to fall to her to defend the ladies of this court, last leadership of the most powerful human kingdom on Erde. She held to her vow, to lay down her life if need be to defend those of her charges. She feared that that would indeed be required of her.

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Gurall, High Chieftainess of the Unified Horde, surveyed the opposing line of human warriors with a sneer. As her eyes roamed the assembled knights, she found none of them worthy. Soft, doughy men in their honor-less armor, clutching swords in soft hands. Even their king, Heinrich the Just, was not an opponent worth her time.

Scanning the humans, her gaze landed on one, a youth standing next to the king. Now there was a worthy opponent! He shared the same look as the king himself, but taller, broader of shoulder and far leaner of frame. Who was this knight? No matter, the Dravahk'ran, it seemed, would have their prize as well.

With a bestial roar, Gurall waved her forces forward. With screams and war-whoops, the hoard ran down the ragged line of human knights. Axes shattered shields, war hammers crashed against bone, rending flesh, crushing limbs, even sending heads rolling from their shoulders.

The knights of the weak goddess Huma fell like wheat before a scythe.

All but one.

Alexander Kingsblood, bastard son of the King, stood firm, his holy sword, Valor of the Morning, flashing in the noonday sun. Last paladin of Valorum, Alexander was a dying breed. Denied a crown, he took up the sword instead, swearing Valorous Oaths of protection, justice, and decency.

Gurall swung her double bladed axe, and the head of the king rolled in the mud.

"See, now, pathetic man-lings! Your weak and feeble king could not hope to match me! No man alive can!" She grinned, long tusks glinting in the light. Her prodigious cock straining at her loincloth as the bloodlust thrummed through her veins.

Finally, only one remained, standing against the hoard. Try as they might, none of her warriors could bring down the youth, he whom was called Kingsblood. At first, he had been the only worthy warrior, and the knights had chanted his epithet as it encouraged them to stand and fight. But the boy was exhausted, every other man in the kingdom lay dead. He struggled to lift his sword, but even still, no orc warrioress could take him down.

"Hold! I smell a different blessing on this one!" Bellowed the high chieftainess. Her warriors pulled back, leaving the exhausted youth to stand alone in the center of a vast ring of orcs.

Alexander knew his end was nigh. The fight was over. The war was lost. His lungs heaved, desperately trying to pay back the oxygen debt of his trembling muscles.

"High Chieftainess Gurall! I am Alexander Kingsblood. You have fought well today, but the battle is over! If you surrender with honor, I will spare your life and the lives of your warriors! If you do not, I will fight here until the end of days!"

Gurall gaped at the sheer audacity of the boy, her warrioress's laughed openly at the proud declaration. Despite the bleak prospects, this one stood proud, his bravado was unshakeable. This one, was an Orc in all but form, for only an Orc could display such audacious bravado in the face of certain doom. This one snarled defiance in the face of the Reaper of Souls. This one, she could respect.

"You've got balls, Kingsblood, I'll grant you that!" She laughed heartily. "But look around you, boy!" She swept her arms dramatically. "You are the last man in all of Weslon! And a half grown one at that! I have thousands of blooded and bitch-slicked Orc warrioresses! Come now, surely you recognize the futility here. You have earned my respect, and thus your life. Sole warrior worthy of the title for your race, I would like not to see such potential wasted."

"A worthy offer, High Chieftainess, but alas, I cannot accept. I swore an Oath to protect my homeland. Though the battle is futile, I am honor-bound to fight it." The boy wheezed, still trying to regain his breath. "A Paladin of Valorum has but two things in this world, his balls and his oath, and he breaks them for naught."

A sad smile crossed Gurall's face. "Would that you had been born an Orc, lad. Though I wish otherwise, I respect it. You will die with honor!" She raised a massively muscled arm, preparing to sweep it down and order her forces forward. Shakily, the boy raised his sword again, preparing himself to be with his god.

"Honorable Valorum, the Just. I pray you strengthen my arm, and steel my resolve for what is to come. If I should fall, let me fall with honor."

"Hold! Great Gurall, we beg you wait." From the fringes of the crowd, a high, musical voice rang out. A sinuous green figure strutted forth, heavy breasts jiggling with each step, wide hips swaying dangerously.

Wearing naught but a simple sling, tied behind her neck to contain her massive mammaries, a tightly wound loincloth pulled flush against her flat crotch, between lithe thighs, only to disappear between the rounded cheeks of her green ass, a smaller Orc proudly strutted into the circle. The warrioresses whispered and muttered, shifting uneasily at the sight of Chieftainess Ai'mal'ee, leader of the Dravahk'ran.

"The Cockless will claim this one." She smiled lasciviously as she swayed up towards the young knight. With a sign and a muttered word, the boy fell to the ground. Ai'mal'ee picked up his sword, motioning two more Cockless to come forward. Slinging one of his arms over each of their shoulders, the Dravahk'ran slinked away, their prize in hand.

Gurall shuddered. No one knew what the Cockless did to the men they took. But she knew they were never seen again. They hadn't taken a single man throughout the entire campaign, and Gurall was saddened that they had finally chosen the valorous young male. He belonged to the witches and conjurors now.

Putting him out of her mind, she turned to her hoard. "The war is won! Forward to our well earned rewards!"

The Orc hoard stormed the castle, kicking down the doors as human women ran, screaming. The lower Orc warriors began claiming their well deserved prizes, stripping them naked and throwing them over their shoulders.

Gurall, her blood-sister, One-Eyed Groona, and the high shamaness Grillgra, continued on, single-mindedly focused on the true prize. There! Just ahead was the heavily reinforced door to the keep. Gurall's cock twitched at the thought of the decadent prizes held within. A salacious smile crossed her tusked face.

With one mighty kick, the door flew open, and feminine screams of shock and fear filled the air. The trio of Orcs strode in boldly, only to be met by a blonde knight in ornate armor.

"I am the Lady-Knight Sharona! And you shall not pass! I will defend this room with my life!"

Groona strode forward, her cock twitching in anticipation as she raised her sword. Basically a metal slab, attached to a hilt, she swung it down, as Sharona swung hers up to guard. With a giant crash, the two swords met. And Sharona's blade snapped in two.

"Ha! And you call yourself a warrior! Pathetic. I hope you fuck far better than you fight."

Sharona stepped back in shock, as Groona pushed forward, grabbing the knight behind her neck. Sheathing her sword, her other hand began to strip the armor from the disarmed knight, throwing metal plates and pieces dismissively behind her. Groona continued, stripping the leather underarmor, and the conservative undergarments until Sharona knelt, naked on her knees.

Groona licked her lips, taking in her prize. Sharona was muscular, tall, for a human, with a short bob-cut of honey blonde hair. Her tits were high, firm handfuls, and her ass was firm, taut and round. A thatch of blonde hair covered her treasure.

Her cock straining at her loincloth, she continued to hold the straining and struggling knight on her knees in an iron grip.

Grillgra stalked her own prey, the high priestess Theodora. Muttering an invocation to Futargh, a shimmering barrier covered the only door, cutting off all escape. Her quarry knelt, hands posed in prayer, as she desperately tried to beseech her fallen goddess.

"Your goddess has submitted, little whore. She cannot help you now. Your new goddess, Futargh, has decreed that you belong to me now."

Theodora whimpered in fear, her prayers unanswered.

Gurall strode imperiously up the middle of the room, the eight noblewomen scampering back along the walls. Queen Charlotte stood, bravely facing down her conqueror.

Tall, seven feet if she was an inch, the Orc War-Chieftainess was Amazonian in her build. A wild mane of red hair, the same shade as her own, Charlotte fearfully took in the visage of her foe. Vibrant green skin, clear and flawed only by the occasional scar, covered solid muscle from head to toe. Rippling abdominal muscles flexed and rolled as the Orc strutted up the center of the room.

Heavy, calamastian breasts, as big as her head, as big as her own mammaries, bounced and jiggled in the leather wrap that struggled to contain them. Wide hips undulated sinuously with every step, and a generous backside, muscular, yet covered with the same softness and size as the queen's own, followed the Orc, rolling as she walked.

Her face was delicate, fair, yet graced with wide nostrils, which were currently flaring as the Orc inhaled the heady scent of females in the room. Her sinuous, cupids bow lips were framed by the long, wickedly sharp pointed tusks jutting from her lower jaw. Vibrant green eyes, again, similar in shade to her own, bored into her with purpose and intent.

Something massive flexed between the Orc's legs, and her smile grew dangerous.

Gurall paced around her first prize, appraising her voluptuous form with an appreciative eye.

Skin as pale as milk, covered in a spattering of freckles, covered an absurdly padded frame. The queen was young, her belly flat and trim. 'That will soon change.' Her breasts, of a size and shape as Gurall's own, were high, soft yet firm. Thin, graceful limbs flowed to tiny, delicate hands, and Gurall couldn't help but picture those tiny hands wrapped around her cock. The queen had a tiny, waspish waist, that flared into wide, child-bearing hips supporting a lush and ample backside. The perfect cushion for the hours of breeding that waited in her immediate future. 'This is a prize worth a thousand wars! She was built to carry whelps, built to be fucked! And she's all MINE!' She thought to herself.

Grillgra summoned a recording orb, a magical device that recorded and broadcast whatever it saw to the rest of the hoard.

"The last of your human males are dead. My hoard has scoured the lands from top to bottom, from north to south and east to west. We slaughtered them all. From this day forward," she said, leaning forward to smell the queens hair. "Humans and orcs are now the same species. We have replaced your men. Your bodies will pleasure our cocks. Your wombs belong to us. From this day, to your last day, you will birth either Orc whelps or more whores for them to fuck."

She stepped back, spreading her arms wide expansively.

"Welcome to your new life, Fallen Queen!"

Charlotte stared ahead, refusing to give Gurall the satisfaction of her fear. "And what would you have of us then?"

Gurall grinned evilly. "Why, what is mine."

She surged forward, gripping the shoulders of the queens dress in each meaty hand. With a tiny flex, she ripped the garment in two, letting the pieces fall to either side. The queen was left wearing naught but a white lace bustier, a white garter belt holding up sheer white stockings, and I tiny lace white thong, the front panel covering a thick thatch of red hair, the back string disappearing between the twin moons of the queen's ass.

Gurall ripped the bustier and garter belt off, revealing the acres of pale mammary swaying in the light of day. Large green hands closed possessively over pale flesh, rubiate nipples trapped between verdant fingers, teased and pulled unmercifully. Unbidden, the queens breath came in short, heated gasps.

"Fallen foe, conquered enemy. These belong to me. I claim you as spoils of war!" The hands left Charlotte's heavy breasts, before falling onto each of her pale ass cheeks with a heavy smack. The thong was ripped apart, and the queen stood nude, save for the sheer white stockings. Gurall growled as she pushed the queen by the back of the neck, forcing her to bend over the table standing before her.

Gurall held the queen pinned with one hand, the other hurriedly stripping her chest harness off, freeing her green tits and forest green nipples. Her waist wrap was next, then her loin cloth, until finally she was as naked as her prize, giant green cock swaying. She kicked the queens legs apart, before laying her cock down on the crack of her ass, between the mountainous cheeks.

Charlotte could feel the heavy balls pulsing against her sex, the massive rod, hot and veiny, pulsing between her ass. She could feel the bloated head, resting on her lower back, and bit her lip in tremulous fear. It was massive! Monstrous! Many times the size of her late husband! And she was meant to take this?! It was impossible!

The massive fuck log sawed back and forth, growing if anything, even harder. The Orcs hands landed on her ass cheeks again, spreading them apart.

Gurall gazed down, admiring the sight of the two holes revealed to her at last. Only one would be seeing any use for a long time. Gurall smirked, grasping her cock in one hand, fisting it once to ensure hardness before lining up her log with the puckered crinkle of Charlotte's anus. She pressed the blunt head against the opening and started to push.

"Wait! That's-"

"Quiet, slave! All of you belongs to me now."

Gurall pushed, demanding entry. At first, Charlottes sphincter refused, pushed into the depths of her ass as Gurall advanced. But Gurall's cock was relentless, inevitable. Charlotte's anal ring fought a losing battle before, with a pop, the bloated head popped through. Immediately, Charlotte groaned through gritted teeth, as her ring tightened painfully around the head of the cock invading it. Gurall hissed through clenched teeth as sweat beaded on her forehead.

The bitch was tight! Almost painfully so. "Sisters, the bitch almost chopped the head of my cock off, she's so tight. With how feeble and weak the king was, I'd assumed he only took her this way!" She laughed nastily. "No matter!"

Gurall gripped the queen's hips, reared back enough to gather momentum, but not enough to fully exit, then rammed forward with all her strength, hauling the queen backwards by her hips.

Charlotte screamed as the massive intruder violated her depths. The burning hot rod imperiously split her shitter open, delving deeper, deeper, deeper with one smooth, savage motion. She felt Gurall's heavy balls slap against her cunt, smacking her clit as her new owner bottomed out inside her.

Charlotte's ass squeezed and rippled about Gurall's cock, desperately trying to in turns accommodate or evacuate the massive intruder. 14" of cock now lay lodged inside the sluts ass, waiting unmoving as Gurall groaned in deep satisfaction. She loved breaking in a new bitch! And this one was not some pit slut, fucked hard by the entire hoard, this one was her own, personal Thrall! Hers!

An iron hand gripped the back of the queen's neck, the other clamped onto a wide hip as Gurall began savaging the bitch beneath her.

Charlotte could feel every ridge, every vein as the massive cock plumbed the depths of her ass, her forbidden hole. This was not an unknown sexual act, but it WAS expressly forbidden by the goddess Huma. Charlotte prayed for deliverance, but none came as the massive Orc rutted her.

Gurall's blood was on fire as she slid her cock back and forth within Charlotte's ass. Her giant green tits bounced wildly as she imposed her dominion on this new Thrall. Her generous ass flexed and rolled as she withdrew to the head, only to force herself to the balls inside the anus of the whimpering slut beneath her. She enjoyed the way the pale assflesh rippled and shook with each titanic thrust, reveled in the way her balls slapped her sluts breeding hole on each downstroke, only to slap against her own cunt on each backstroke.

The unwanted stimulation soon brought Charlotte to a screaming, humiliating climax as she sprayed her Orc owners balls in girlcum, her ass clenching down uselessly on the giant green cock buried in it.

Gurall laughed at her derisively. All sluts were slaves to their clits, and this slut's clit was a slave to her. She redoubled her efforts, thrusting harder and faster, the giant soft cheeks of her new slave slapping against her groin with each thrust, an appropriate applause for winning a war. Gurall's balls were soaked, steeped in the combined Human and Orc vaginal juices.

Charlotte endured as best she could the Orc's brutal domination. That is, up until she felt a new sensation in her ass. At the base of the cock violating her, a strange, hard, lump was taking shape, pulling at her sphincter with each entry and exit of the bitch breaking phallus.

Soon, it became too large to enter, and Gurall began to fuck her even more angrily. Furious at her knot being denied entry, Gurall began to savagely batter at her bitches sphincter, ramming at it as hard as she could, again and again and again until, finally, the giant knot popped loudly inside, locking the two together as Gurall's balls began to pull up into her body.

Charlotte felt a wet, burning sensation as Gurall flooded her ass with the rich, thick, copious amounts of Orc semen. Gurall held still, roaring loudly as she came, hosing down the insides of Charlotte's ass. As the pressure built, Charlotte climaxed again, and the breath blew from her lungs as stars and blackness crowded the edge of her vision. She scrabbled at the tabletop, trying to ground herself as her toes curled and her entire body spasmed.

Green tits crushed against her back as the unnatural couple caught their breath, exhausted from their exertions.

Charlotte felt herself yanked by the anus as Gurall stood and awkwardly backed herself up against Charlottes former throne. Charlotte could do nothing but follow, the massive cock still locked inside her ass, still spewing Orc seed. Gurall lounged on the throne, leaning back as Charlotte, knotted and impaled, sat in her lap, her legs forced apart so that all present could see how her ass was packed full with cock.

Waving a hand lazily, Gurall gave her permission for the two other orcs in the room to claim their prizes.

End chapter one.