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Orcs (M+F, nc?)

Sarah_1964 · 156

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Offline Sarah_1964

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on: July 22, 2021, 10:09:28 PM
Having recently (at time of writing) joined this forum, I admitted to a weird fantasy (sexual but also fantastical) of being gang banged by orcs.

This came about after I attended some live action role play events (LARP) where thousands of people dress as warriors, elves, peasants,.Lord's and ladies, knights and barbarians - and orcs - and act out epic battles and intrigues over a weekend. I enjoyed it much more than I expected. Orcs there are indeed brutish but intelligent, organised, sophisticated in their way - and to me, as a skimpily dressed female peasant fighter facing literally hordes in battle, quite surprisingly erotic in a twisted way.

At such events there are strict rules of engagement and conduct - no sex references being one - but I started to fantasize afterwards, eventually developing a vivid fantasy where somehow the pretend world became real, with me, alone trapped in it with the strange creatures and warlike humans all around, at their mercy.

My 'orc gang bang' fantasy having excited a few jokes here in the forum, I felt I ought to share it properly: so here it is, in one imagining:

Orcs

I am at the Live Action Role Play, ready, with many others, to pass through the pretend 'portal' that supposedly leads into the fantasy world of orcs and monsters. I have been shown how to 'fight' - to wield my small safe latex sword in dramatic mighty sweeps but to pull back at the last so the blow will not hurt my opponent; to make the 'kneel and raise hand' gesture that calls for a pause in the game and summons a referee; and to act as the fierce warrior I have chosen to be despite my small stature. Even so I am nervous, unsure. The portal, though pretend, is impressive: 20 feet high, realistically rock like, weirdly lit in changing green and reds with a roar of sound emanating from it. Through it, although we have to pretend not to see, the shapes of orcs in latex masks, warriors in leather armour, strange monsters, lurk and shift in the trees.

The darkening summer sky lends an eery unease: thunder rolls in the distance, clouds lower so it feels like evening. I shiver in my light home made tunic, and not only from the sudden cooling - I feel very small - very slight, very naive - alongside my companions with their realistic costumes, heavy armour and fearsome weapons.

At the signal I hold back, hesitating before hurrying to catch up with my companions as the last of them passes through the portal.

The rolling crash of sound is deafening: the portal sizzles and crackles with blinding electricity and sparks; I feel myself lifted from that ground then hurled back down again - arms flailing as my body hits the ground with an audible thud, rolling twice before coming to a stop at the edge of a circle of scorched grass.

Raising myself cautiously on my elbows, the world looks too sharp - colours too vivid, an intensity to everything that is too real to be true. My companions are nowhere to be seen: but circled around me, their looks astonished, is the most odd collection of creatures: orcs ripping with green tinged muscles, humans tall as giants with faces cruel and crude, but others portly and lordly - and all visibly shocked at what must have been my spectacular entrance.

I scramble to my feet, confused, trembling. My hand sewn tunic is too short and ridden high up my bare thighs; a seam has ripped so that it slips baring one shoulder; but I am too stunned to do anything other than gawp open mouthed at the fearsome warriors who surround me - even as they gape just as open mouthed at me.

A big orc steps into the crcle - oddly wary considering my small size - and I realise that the nature of my appearing has left them cautious lest I weild some great power. So I crouch, in what I imagine to be a defiant fighter's pose - legs bent, feet well apart, short sword held in twands to hide my trembling - not realising how my stance causes the tunic to ride up, exposing even the sides of my buttocks.

The orc hesitates. His voice is a low growl but I understand his words: "what are you? who? what is your purpose here?"

Even several paces away from me his height is such that I have to look up to hold his gaze - which I do, in hopes that my own eyes will hold the steely resolve I hope they do. But I see him smile, and I realise that I am convincing no-one. I feel myself crumple inwardly, and I fight the feeling, blurting out: "oh god. oh fuck"

Then I gather myself, draw myself up to my full 5'1" height, look him straight in the eye, and try to recall the dramatic declaiming they showed me in game practice. I throw my arms wide in a theatrical gesture and shout,in whatt turns out to be more squeak than roar: "I COME..." but as I say it his smile widens and I forget what I was going to say, my mouth opens and closes like a stranded fish.

I hear the surrounding warriors murmur to each other, and I catch fragments of what they say: "she is a god!" - and "her name is fuck!" and I know they understand the swear words even before the great orc in front of me squints, suppressing a grin, bends his head down to look me in the eye at my own level, and laughs: "you cum..?" and he turns to the surrounding warriors, boastful and proud in his stance, grinning at each around the circle as they all nudge each other and share their guttural laughter. And I realise I have made a mis-step.

The orc steps forward, towering above me so that I have to lean back to hold his gaze - which I do, though tremblingly. His grin broadens, and with one sweep of his had he swipes away my silly sword, leaving me unarmed. I try to remain defiant, but inside my mind races -- is this a dream? a nightmare? if I let it happen will I wake?

His huge hand reaches down, takes hold of the scruff of the neck of my tunic, lifts, hauling me off my feet so that my face is level with his, my bare legs flailing, the tunic pulled up so high that it completely uncovers my buttocks and reveals my sensible plain white panties to the gawping laughing crowd. I try to shout: "put me down, you brute!" but it comes out as a sort of squeal and he turns to his companions to acknowledge their laughter. His words are a growl, his breath warm in my face as he speaks: "such a pretty little thing...a god, then?" and he laughs, and with one hand grasps my waist and slings me over his shoulder, as one might a sack of potatoes, my head hanging down his back, my legs grasped tightly in his fist, my tunic rucked up to my waist.

His torso is bare, his muscles huge, rippling with masculine power, his skin a light tinge of green, and my face hangs against his bare back, breathing in a scent of such extreme maleness that even in this situation it is almost intoxicating. My fists hit at him but he shrugs, and his other hand - huge and flat - flicks up in a SMACK that even in this dire circumstance hurts my pride more than my body - but I stop in my struggling and surrender to being hauled away like this, like a hunter's prey.

He begins to walk, the other orcs closing in around him, my body slung carelessly over his shoulder. And his hand - the hand that slapped - stays, rests, on my buttocks, resting on the bare skin: I can feel the strength even in his hand, the sense of such awesome raw power, such strength, dormant but ready to be roused. And as he walks, I feel his thumb slip down, between my thighs, as his fingers remain on the lower curve of my buttocks. It slides, between my thighs, ickles through my soft dark curly cunt hairs, rests against the soft warnth of my cunt lips. I squirm, trying to shift away from the touch, but my wriggling only serves to increase the contact. He shifts my weight, ever so slighty, and the thumb starts to enter me- to penetrate me, to slide in to my cunt - and I realise with shame that it does so easily because my own cunt juices already lubricate its passage. It stimulates me, despite myself - even though my mind rages agaist this invasion of my body, and even more at the humiliation of thisb eing done to me. But I cannot resist - the thumb is thick, big, long, and it fills me - fills my cunt - and I hear him grunt, and laugh, and it curls, inside me, and I am lost - my orgasm a shuddering moaning gasping surrender that does not go unnoticed. An orc walking by his side turns to him, grinning widely: "so she does cum..?" and they laugh, as do some others nearby: and the orc carrying me growls in response: "yes the god cums ... and we will see if she earns her name - fuck - soon"

The march through the forest brings us to a clearing where the company pauses, and rest their packs on the ground. My orc withdraws his thumb from my still spasming cunt, with an audible sucking sound that draws giggles from those nearby. His fingers drag my panties with them, soaked, and he flings them to the ground where a younger orc recovers them and ties them to his spear where they flutter dismally like a flag of surrender. My orc slides me down from his shoulder, but does not lower me to the ground: instead he holds me by my waist, my legs dangling, and I realise with horror that he has dropped his loincloth to reveal a raging erectionf enormous size: the head already hard and shiny, domed like a helmet with a prominent ridge, and the shaft so thick that my eyes widen. His eyes burn with a raw primal fire - with animal need, with time-consuming savage lust. The cock heaaad nuzzles up between my thighs, huge beneath my cunt as he lowers met and my arms flail as I feel it nudge and probe, teasing my soft dark curly cunt hairs, parting my soft - and shamefully wet - cunt lips, opening me up. My eyes widen in horror, pleading with him but there is nothing behind his own gaze now but lust and need. I smell it emanating from him - an awesome incredible maleness, masculine strength and power - and demand. It is overwhelming, and despite my fear it works on me so that I feel my nipples stiffen, rubbing gently at the rough material of my tunic, and my lubrication flows to ease - almost to welcome - the stretching penetration as he lowers me, so that my own bodyweight slowly impales me on the erect rock hard shaft. I feel my eyes roll back, my head flops, I jerk several times as the penetration proceeds: as I am filled full of cock.

My arms and legs hang limp and I have the strange vision of myself like a rag doll helplessly skewered on the thick stake of his cock. I am tiny compared to his towering muscled figure: his hands almost wrap right round my waist. I hear the whispers from those around us, and I know they are hushed because they are watching my small petite frame slowly but surely accept the massive orc penis - the slow but full penetration eliciting from me the occasional gasps, a twitching of my limbs, a spasmodic jerking of my small body.

Finally, after what seems an age of endless stretching and filling, I feel the root of his cock press up at me and I know the penetration is complete. And so it begins - the hard deep full awesome powerful FUCKING of me.

His eyes burn but are vacant of all except the animal need to fuck: and fuck is what he does, with harsh powerful upward thrusts that make my arms and legs fly up and out like those of the floppy doll I resemble. And his thick rigidity fills and stimulates every part of my insides, driving me to a sexual intensity I have never before experienced. The fucking is focussed, driven, almost demonic, and I feel my cunt clutch and clasp at his invading violating shaft - and ripple all along it, spasming tightly as I orgasm in a thrashing flailing screaming mess.

Unbeknownst to me, the mating of orcs is brutal, animal, and swift - like the raping of a duck by the drake, more a fight than a fuck, a desperate emptying of the male's balls as deep and as fully as possible ending with no emotional connection or joy. And my orc has never impaled one so tight, nor so wet, nor so easy - and one whose cunt sucks and spasms and milks at his cock. His eyes suddenly blaze with an amazement that eclipses the unthinking animality of primal lust and burns with an almost awed orgasmic realisation and I feel his mind - for the first time in his life - join with his body in total absolute time-consuming orgasm as his cock thrusts up one more time, filling me completely, and he pumps spurt after spurt of orcish cum deep inside me. His hands slip from my waist but I am held upright by the sheer rigid strength of his erection impaling me as I thrash and flail in screaming orgasm on his pumping pulsing rod, like a stick puppet writhing and thrashing.

A chant rises, and I at first mistake it for an urging command before I realise that just as my orc has never been brought to shattering conscious orgasm in a tight human cunt before, nor have these companions witnessed a human female orgasm so intensely and loudly: "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" they chant, and as indeed we fuck - as my orc fucks me and I fuck myself on him - I realise it is my name they chant - the name they thought I gave myself, and that now they see fits me, defines me and what I do and what they will do to me. And my orgasm peaks in snaking shouting flailing total surrender.

Lowered to the ground, my orc helps me stand, holding my hand with surprising gentleness for such a massive brute - and his eyes rest on me, wonderingly, and with a desire that is sated only temporarily.

As we march onwards, there is a change in the orcs' attitude towards me: a giggling disrespect replaced by a sort of awe - but I am a captured god, not a powerful one. I am permitted to walk with them, and this world offers no sanctuary so I accept my fate. I am tiny in their midst: a slight figure, dishevelled - and pensive, thinking, absorbing the strangeness not only of my situation but of the savagery of what was done to me and of my reaction to it. The orcs emanate a maleness, a power, an intensity, that I can feel even as we simply trudge on - an intensity of which they seem unaware but that I feel as an exquisite sexual arousal that I cannot suppress, a sexual need that - like tht of my orc - is sated only for now but will rise again.

There is much muttered conversation, many glances my way, often heated discussion - and not a few scuffles break out as they obviously argue about what I am and what should be done with me. Once, a young orc approaches me, tugs curiously at my tunic, but is pushed away by my orc - and I realise they must be curious still as to what is beneath my simple clothing.

The town we reach is obviously an outlier of a greater city - bustling with life but obviously not a center of government. The tavern is rowdy, raucous, with a wide arena in its main room. A table to one side is dominated by an orc of impressive appearance. Unlike my companions who are in loin cloths, he is clad in armour woven of leather and metal scales, that sit on his incredibly broad shoulders to lend the appearance of solidity as much as strength - of easy confidence, of power and control. On the table is a helmet with the sketchy appearance of a dog's head. He sits very still, but his eyes scan the room - he gives the appearrance somehow of world-weariness, shaped by long and arduous and brutal experiences - in my mind emerges the phrase " A dog of war" - an old solider - no, a commander - one who has seen too much and commands with easy but weary authority. My own companions mutter amongst themselves, glancing nervously his way, obviously summoning the courage to approach him - and I realise that where my companions are probably a rough band or mercenaries, here is an orc of consequence. They talk with him nervously, gesturing my way, and his eyes sweep over me, skeptically, disdainfully - but at a nod they leave him and return to where I stand, tiny and still, near the entrance.

I am shocked when two of my companion orcs take hold of my arms and usher me to the center of the arena. They seem tense, nervous, wary - and for a moment I fear that this will be a kind of gladiatorial combat - a fight, and one that I am certain to lose. Swiiftly, one moves behind me and I feel his strong hands clasp my arms, holding me still, turning me so that I face towards the warlord - the dog of war - whose eyes seem already to dismiss me as a wearisome and unpromising distraction. But his eyes hold mine - his gaze compelling mine - and I shiver as the second orc reaches for my tunic, taking hold of it nervously at first but then, at my lack of resistance, with firmer resolve. They raise my arms, and tug the simple tunic up - up my arms, and off, to be discarded to one side. There is some surprise at my plain white bra, and comical fumbling that fails to find its clasp - but I reach compliantly behind me to unclasp it for them, and shrug it forwards to reveal my small but pert breasts. Fully naked, I feel the dog of war explore my body - my firm legs, my tummy, the patch of soft dark curly cunt hair, my breasts - and I hold myself still, despite my trembling.

But my body has not been stripped only to be displayed. One of the orcs lifts me, facing him, raising me from the ground, and I again feel that male intensity and power as he positions me, and then brutally slams my body down to impale me on his raging erection.

The fucking this time is merciless - I feel that he is at first perfoming for the audience as much as for the fucking of me - but in my hyper-aroused state it brings me quickly to loud shaking orgasm, and the tight rippling of my cunt all along his shaft awakens that same shocked consciousness that my own orc showed when he fucked me, and he loses control - so that although I writhe and thrash and moan on his cock, it is he who shouts - roars - his orgasm to the rafters, he whose body shakes and shudders ad he unloads his cum deep inside me, and he who groans in hepless mad thrusting - until I join him in the final wet wild loud screaming orgasmic frenzy.

The tavern is silent - stunned by the frenzied sexual display. The orc releases me and I fall, sprawling on the arena's dirt floor. I rase myself to hands and knees but before I can recover the seond orc is on me - and in me - thrusting deep and hard into me from behind, taking me, making me take it - and making me orgasm, again and again, under him, as my bare tits swing under me with each and every ruthless thrust until he too unleashes his spurting load of creamy cum inside me, and the crowd starts to applaud, slowly at first, then thunderously.

I am still shaking from the intensity of the fucking - from the power of my orgasms - when the dog of war gestures with his hand and they lead me, naked and swweaty, cum dribbling down my thighs, to his table.

His armour is open, parted - and his erection is out, exposed, huge and throbbing as he lies back in his seat. His eyes hold mine, and as trelease me, I know what I have to do - what is expected of me - and I move to straddle his groin with my spread thighs....

This time it is I who take the initiative - not brazenly but without hesitation - straddling the dog of war's thighs, reaching down with one hand to grasp the gigantic thick throbbing shaft, guiding it as I postion myself. And he has eyes that do not go vacant with simple animal need - nor does his body flex in animal reflex to drive himself brutally into me - instead he lays back, a look of wariness on his face but also of anticipation. He has seen me - seen my naked body, in its tiny smooth soft perfection and also seen my orgasms - and those I provoked in the mercenary orcs - and I can feel him weighing me up, measuring me as he waits.

The cock is huge - masively erect, thick and hard as polished rock. It throbs in my hand as my small fingers wrap around it. His eyes hold mine - but mine also hold his, in a mutual challenge and a mutual anticipation. I lower myself, carefully, feeling the hard shiny head toouch me, tickling at my cunt hairs before pushing gently against my wet cum-smeared cunt lips. I bite my lip, lowering myself so that he opens me up, peeling back the cunt lips, slipping wetly up into me - and I note with satisfaction that his pupils do widen as he feels how tight I am. Down further, so that the helmet opens me wide, and its ridge plops through my cunt lips into the warm wet tightness inside. And lower, so that the shaft envelops itself in my velvety wet soft tight warmth. My eyes half close, my head tilts back, I place both hands behind me on his masive strong thighs to support my body as I arch lightly back - my small pert tits stand proud, nipples siffly erect as I take his whole length. And then I ride him - my hips lowering and raising my body so that my own body weight impales me over and again on his hard long shaft - fucking myself on him, my cunt gripping him so tightly. My tiny naked body moving above his, my small tits jiggling mesmerisingly, my mouth open in a soft 'O' from which emerge quiet moans, rising in loudness as I take him in me, ride the cock, fucking myself up and down on him.

And now the tightness of me, the lewd perfect jiggling of my tits, the snaking sensuality of my bare body, provoke in him that all-consuming, savage but entirely conscious orgasm that engages his whoe body and his whole mind and his whole sexual soul so that he THRUSTS up into me with one massive flex of his powerful hips, burying himself in me so deep that I cry ou - and my own body jerks, shakes, shudders, flails above him as he IMPALES me on his cock as it spurts and flows and pulses and his head goes back and his eyes are wild and his ROAR of sexual orgasm echoes through the tavern and silences the crowd in awe as my body and soul join his in unstoppable unlimited unleashed total mad crazed ORGASM.

Released, limp, I am lifted from his lap: my trembling naked body held upright by supporting orc hands. And again that low growling, stamping chat rises: "FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" and I understand that I have earned my place in this world.
« Last Edit: July 23, 2021, 11:38:48 AM by Sarah_1964 »

Try me...


Offline Hoss

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Reply #1 on: July 23, 2021, 06:17:30 AM
Love your writing Sarah...seems at odds with the image that I had of you from your earlier posts on KIB. I thought you were very much "naïve"  ..but apparently you have a real gift of language, :o :emot_kiss:

Love the new Avatar :-*..

Australian Kissing.....just like the French - but done "Down Under"...


Offline Clitical Thinking

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Reply #2 on: July 23, 2021, 06:29:26 AM
Thanks for sharing such a naughty fantasy, Sarah :)

"If you lick it, they will come." - Field of Creams


Offline jaf36

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Reply #3 on: July 23, 2021, 10:26:35 AM
Yes, more!!!



Offline Sarah_1964

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Reply #4 on: July 23, 2021, 11:14:43 AM
Yes, more!!!

You already know this one...:-)

Try me...


Offline Sarah_1964

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Reply #5 on: July 23, 2021, 11:15:33 AM
Love your writing Sarah...seems at odds with the image that I had of you from your earlier posts on KIB. I thought you were very much "naïve"  ..but apparently you have a real gift of language, :o :emot_kiss:

Thank you: I think I am still naive, in many ways - I just have a vivid and dirty mind.

Try me...


Offline msslave

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Reply #6 on: July 23, 2021, 12:29:19 PM
Well that was a morning eye opener. Yeah, we joked about Sarah's comment about being taken by orcs.  Now that I've seen her idea in print I'm panting not laughing. It wasn't long before I began reading with one hand. :facepalm:

Well done Sarah. Woo. What a wonderful addition to KB you are.

Well trained and been made compliant....by our two cats.


Offline Sweetums

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Reply #7 on: July 23, 2021, 04:23:00 PM
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!

"What is that screaming you do at the end?" one Orc asks in confusion. "It doesn't seem to be the usual pain. Huh. Human females are strange. Are they all like this?"

You quickly assure him, "Absolutely not."

Great story.


Offline jaf36

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Reply #8 on: July 23, 2021, 06:46:19 PM
Yes, more!!!

You already know this one...:-)


I do and still enjoy it