Steelhands and Stonefist Ch. 01

Nikka crossed her arms, thinking to herself. Her pointed ears then perked up and her eyes widened fearfully. "Wait, you...you don't think Sir Desmond don't...enjoy company o' women, do you?" By social standards in the kingdoms, much like in the orc clans, males fornicating with other males was considered deviant behavior, but was not entirely unheard of. Such a notion could be explanation for Sir Desmond's notable lack of female company and endeavors into courtly love, though Nikka hoped that this wasn't the case.

Janna laughed boisterously to the point that other shopkeeps and passers-by looked her way, frowning at the two nonhuman females. Janna shook her head. "No, I have not heard any talk that would indicate that Sir Desmond desires men over women. I believe that he is simply...waiting for the right woman to grace his life."

She turned back to her orc friend. "Yes," she continued. "I think that Sir Desmond stays away from ladyfolk, even those found in brothels, merely because he is looking for a perfect woman to capture his chivalrous heart." She looked Nikka in the eyes. "An adventurous woman."

Nikka nodded hesitantly. She hardly thought herself 'perfect' by human or orc standards, but assumed that every male's perception of the word differed. BY some miracle, she could well be the epitome of what Sir Desmond desired in a female.

Nikka cleared her throat hoarsely. "So what you think I should do?"

Janna thumbed her whiskers as she thought. She then smiled. "I think you should take your proposal to the lord of Raven's Rook. That is what the other ladies are doing ever since word spread that Sir Desmond was looking for a wife. It is merely courtesy of court to bring a claim to the father of the prospective husband or wife."

Nikka's green cheeks flushed. "Go to Sir Desmond's father? In open court?" Nikka gave a half laugh of bitterness. "He and his court will laugh at me."

Janna shrugged, jumping off the counter. She slapped Nikka's muscled arm playfully. "So what if they do?"

"Because if he says no... the father has final say over who claims husband...right?" Nikka asked.

Janna shook her head. "That may be so with ladies, but not the men. Sir Desmond is a man and a knight and can marry whoever he damn well pleases and there is nothing his father can do about it." Janna smiled.

Nikka nodded, taking a deep breath. She couldn't believe she was actually going to make an attempt at the handsomest man in the city, but she was, deep down, so giddy with the idea that she couldn't turn back now.

"So what I do, Janna? After I go to Sir Desmond's father. Do I...reveal myself to him and present myself as a mate to be claimed by dominant male?"

Janna pondered. "How do orcs court each other in the clans?"

Nikka licked her lips. "Female who wants male warrior presents herself as mate to be claimed and bred. She...give tribute to male or just tells male that she wishes to be mounted. Male either claims her or he doesn't, dependin on what he want." She paused, wiping her dirty hands before continuing. "When male wants a female...he tries to conquer her. If female wants it, she lets herself be taken. If she doesn't...she fights the male in honorable combat. If male wins, female accepts defeat and is taken whether she likes it or not. If female wins, the male is shamed in defeat over losing fight to female, and must give up claim and leave female alone."

Janna chuckled. "That all sounds much less complicated than how these humans court each other. Ordinarily, I'd say that male humans generally court the females, but Sir Desmond is a special case. He's not found a wife worth 'claiming', so the ladies have taken it upon themselves to lather him in poetry and sweet songs in an attempt to win him over. So far, no lady has yet been successful."

Nikka cocked her head. "So...to win Sir Desmond, I must be...the male and he must be the female? I must conquer him?"

"That's a peculiar way of putting it, but yes, that is the general idea," Janna replied.

"How I woo him? With...poetry?" Nikka shuddered at the thought; she'd never particularly enjoyed the art of poetry or the girly songs that the highborn ladies played on their harps. Somehow, given that Sir Desmond had been made famous by cutting down countless orc invaders, she doubted that he very much cared for it either. But if such things won him over...

Janna shrugged. "I don't see why not. That's what all the other ladies are trying. Say something honest and from the bottom of your heart. Somehow I think Sir Desmond will like that."

Nikka sat on a trunk where she kept her tools. She muttered under her breath a series of unintelligible words, already beginning to recite a poem that she'd heard stupid ladies say, but replacing words with different ones. She then nodded, sighing.

"Very well. Thank you Janna...I...I try. I try to win him over," the orcess said.

Janna grinned. "Best of fortunes to you, my girl. Come see me at the tavern if you want to talk."

Nikka nodded. "My thanks, Janna. You are good...friend."

Janna smiled. "I'd best be getting back to work before the innkeep wonders where I've gone. I will meet you later."

The catgirl hopped from the stand and ran off, whisking her way through the crowds of humans in the market square. Nikka took a few deep breaths and wiped her arms, as if doing so would wipe away the green goosebumps that had formed there. After a few moments, she then donned her gloves again, picked up her hammer, and began to work on the blade that she'd been forging earlier.

As she clanged away, working herself up into a sweat again, her thoughts continued to drift toward Sir Desmond again. She blushed, thinking about how many a night she had stained her furs with her wetness just from fantasizing about Sir Desmond's nude, muscled body. Though she had nothing to compare it to since she'd never actually seen him nude, she theorized how toned he was, how many scars from previous battles lined his fair skin, how much blond hair he had around his genitalia and, she shuddered, how long and thick his manhood was. So many times she had fingered herself to orgasm while thinking of Sir Desmond as she laid beneath her furs, doing her best to keep her moans and grunts down so as not to attract the City Watch.

On one occasion, a particular naughty fantasy had crossed her mind after a hard day at the forge. She imagined that she had fought Sir Desmond those years ago when her clan had attacked the city. Like the orc males and female who fought each other in honorable combat for right to mateship, she fought brave Sir Desmond. In her fantasy, she lost though; Sir Desmond knocked her axe from her hands and threw her down onto her hands and knees. He didn't kill her though; instead, he gripped her leather jerkin, ripping it from her body and freeing her plush green breasts to the air even as the sounds of battle continued around them. Then, he tore off her pants, pressed his blood-stained body against her and mounted her right then and there. He took her from behind, on her hands and knees, conquering her and claiming her right in the middle of battle as his moans and her guttural orcish grunts drowned out the surrounding noises.

That fantasy had not come true when that particular battle had been fought, however; Sir Desmond had not fought her that day or even encountered her until after she'd been taken prisoner by the soldiers of Raven's Rook. Truthfully, Nikka did not know why she enjoyed that particular fantasy so much in any case. After all, she'd always despised orc traditions and the idea of male orcs conquering their females, turning them into slaves. And yet for some reason, the idea of being taken by Sir Desmond, of being dominated by him, got her as wet as a whore.

As she finished clanging away at the blade, she began to ponder her very infatuation with the human knight. Had she still been in the clans, she'd have likely been executed for expressing any kind of attraction toward a human male -an enemy. Part of her wondered if her attraction toward Sir Desmond was her way of opposing brutish, male-dominated orc society. Such a notion may have been partially true, but she would be lying if she told herself that her desire to claim Sir Desmond was merely based on some revenge fantasy against the traditions of her own people.

Truly, she was head over heels in love with the human knight. He had, in her eyes, qualities that she found undeniably enticing, though very much human qualities. His personality -chivalry, generosity, kindness, bravery- and his more lithe, "human" physical features -fair blond hair, peachy skin, an attractive, youthful face, and an array of shiny white teeth that gleamed when he smiled. But he also had traits that she considered to be "orcish" as well; namely, his ferocity on the battlefield and bulky, muscular build honed by many battles. Just as she'd never fully integrated into either orc or human society, Nikka found it ironic that her desired human mate had qualities that she considered to be a perfect blend between orcish and human.

Nikka finished her work and undressed, preparing to lay down for the night in her simple bedding set up behind her stand and her forge. Though truly, she anticipated that she wouldn't be sleeping much; her thoughts of sexy Sir Desmond would keep her awake the whole night with a wet, needy cunt.

Nikka the orcess stared up at the night sky, listening to the calmness of the night as most of the city had now gone to bed. She looked around once, then twice, to make sure that no one was around to catch her. Then, when the coast was clear, she drew the simple fur undergarments down her muscular legs, tossing them to the side. Her calloused green hands slipped beneath her fur blankets and found her already-dripping pussy.

She sighed as she began to finger herself and thumb her clit. As she gave into her pleasures and built up to her eventual peak, she mentally gave herself and ultimatum: she would not ever have to rely on her fingers for her pleasure again. One way or another, she would claim Sir Desmond as her own. Somehow, she would win him over with whatever orcish charms she possessed and he would share her bed henceforth, as he did in her fantasies. The sounds of squelching and feminine orcish grunts filled the empty market square as Nikka reached her blissful apex.

As Niizkka'Lor Stonefist drifted off to sleep, a tusk-filled, toothy smile crossed her dreamy green features. Soon, Sir Desmond Steelhands would be her mate, one way or another.