The Concubine's Collar

With that she slipped back out into the night. Gailan sat down on his bed, feeling the reassuring weight of his sword in his hand.

One hour.

Chapter 14

Gailan's eyes snapped open. It was time. He crept over to the door and peered outside. The darkness was empty save for the slumped form of the slain guard. He winced at how sloppy his unlikely savior had been in leaving the body out in the open. It was a miracle that no one had seen it.

He grabbed the dead orc behind his arms and dragged him inside. He was appalled at how difficult it was to get the body into the hut. The orc was heavy, but there was a time not long ago when he could have accomplished the task with no trouble at all. The long months of avoiding detection as he traversed the Orcish countryside had left him weakened. Silently, Gailan prayed to any god that might be listening for the strength to see this night through.

He slowly made his way though the town, creeping from shadow to shadow. He had no worries that he would lose his way. Every day, when the guards came to take him to Orthok's sick spectacle, he had made it a point to catalogue his surroundings, creating a mental map. He had done it instinctively, with no real hope that he might escape. Now, he was eternally grateful for the training that had been drilled into him. He ached to go to Jaida, but he knew that until the collar was removed she would just be a liability. Instead he headed towards the Chief's hut.

The streets were well patrolled, but Gailan had no trouble avoiding detection. He was more comfortable rushing into combat with his sword held high than skulking around the shadows, but any knight who didn't know how to move silently was not going to last long. As he rounded the final corner he caught his first glimpse of the Chief's hut. So intent was he that he nearly ran straight into a pair of guards.

Gailan silently cursed as he quickly withdrew around the corner. He carefully weighed his options. He could try to find another way around, but there was no guarantee that any other paths would be clear. Besides, he could feel his time running out. Gailan estimated he had about 4 hours until sunrise, and he and Jaida needed to be well away before then. He would have to take them down.

This had to be quick, and above all, silent. Drawing in a deep breath, Gailan steeled himself, and then lunged around the corner. With all his might, Gailan drove the rounded steel pommel of his sword into the base of the first orc's skull. There was a satisfying crunch, and the orc went down like a puppet with its strings cut. The other orc spun around, eyes widening as he saw the grim image of the wild-eyed human before him.

The startled guard fumbled for his weapon, and opened his mouth to sound an alarm. Furiously, Gailan whipped his sword around and swung it at the remaining guard's neck. Flesh and tendons parted easily before the razor sharp steel of his blade, and the orc's head was separated cleanly from his shoulders.

Ignoring the spray of blood that spattered his bare chest Gailan crouched and quickly checked the pulse of the first orc he had downed. Dead. As he wiped his blade clean on the guard's leather armor he scanned about for any sign the brief scuffle had been noticed. The street was empty. He trotted over to the entrance of the hut, wary for any more guards. With one last look about he crept in.

The inside of Orthok's hut was nearly pitch black, and he was afraid he might stumble into something and arouse suspicion. Despite this, he crept along as fast as he dared, eager to finish his task and be on his way. If he could just find this statue this nightmare would be over.

Suddenly, bright light flared up all around him. Gailan cursed his carelessness and threw up an arm to block out the blinding light, but not before he got a better look at his surroundings. The perimeter of the hut was lined with heavily armed orcs, and even as he stood reeling more arrived to close off his exit. Standing in front of the throne was the imposing figure of Orthok. In one hand he held a titanic great sword. His other hand was knotted deeply in the hair of his blue skinned savior. She struggled weakly, sobbing softly from the pain. Jaida sat slumped in the corner with her head in her hands, hoarsely muttering "no" over and over.

"Ah, Gailan. So glad you could join us."

Chapter 15

Orthok was quite pleased with himself. He had seen through Mara's clumsy attempts at manipulation with contemptuous ease. As a boy he had been suckled on political intrigue in the throne room of his father. He had been dealing with far craftier opponents since before he was old enough to grow a beard. Still he had allowed this plot to progress on the off chance it would lead to some entertainment. It now appeared that his decision had paid off.

Grobb moved over to his side. "Sire, shall I order the men to attack?"

Orthok smiled at his lieutenant. "No, Grobb, I think I'll deal with this one myself. It's been far too long since I've had any real sport, and this one looks like he could put up a fight." The human glared up at him.

"Sire, are you sure that's wise? I've seen this one fight, he could be danger…"

"Do you question my prowess? Do you honestly think that whelp could best me in combat?"

Grobb's eyes widened, suddenly aware that he was walking a dangerous path. "No, of course not. No human is your equal."

"That's right. It would be wise not to forget that in the future. Now, stand back and enjoy the show." Orthok flexed his arm out, and sent the frantic Mara stumbling into the waiting arms of a pair of guards. "Take her to the barracks, and see that the men are well entertained. There's no need to waste beauty such as hers."

The pair hurried to comply, grinning to themselves, and Orthok turned his attention fully to the human standing before him.

…

Gailan ignored the pleading look his would be savior shot him as she was pulled out of the hut. There was nothing he could do for her now. His attention was focused entirely on the Orc chief approaching him. He knew that his chances of escape were almost non existent, but he was determined to take Orthok with him into the jaws of death.

Gailan wasted no time with words. None were needed. As soon as Orthok stepped into the center of the ring Gailan lunged. He stabbed first at the Orc's midsection, then at his head, and then down at his legs. Each time his thrust was intercepted by Orthok's whirling great sword. The blade must have weighed a ton, but the orc chief swung it about with startling ease. Gailan methodically began exploring the orc's defenses, launching attacks from every conceivable angle. He hoped to find a hole he could exploit. He found none.

Throughout all of this Orthok had contented himself with defending. Now he took his turn on offence. The chieftain swung just once, but in that one swing Gailan understood his doom. The chieftains blade crashed in with numbing force. Gailan's longsword was heavily enchanted, and could easily withstand such a blow. That was more than he could say for his arm. He felt as if he had been struck with a sledge hammer, and a dull ache spread from his shoulder down.

Gailan was accounted one of the finest swordsmen in the alliance, but he knew he was overmatched. It was only a matter of time before he slipped up and the orc put an end to him. Gailan was going to die. Rather than let this knowledge defeat him, he used it to fuel his will to fight. He let go of everything. His fear, his sorrow, even his love, until all that remained was hate. He focused this hate into a razor edge, and he used it to strike out at the orc.

They fought.

For what seemed like hours the only sound in the hut was the ringing of steel on steel, and the panting of the warriors. Parry. Strike. Thrust. Recover. What Gailan lacked in skill and strength he made up for with sheer ferocity. Nevertheless, the human was wearing down, and they both knew it.

Gailan overextended himself for a brief moment, but that was all the opening Orthok needed. The massive orc kicked hard at Gailan's right knee while simultaneously smashing his crossguard into the humans face. Gailan's world exploded into pain as his lip was mashed against his teeth, and his blade dropped from numb fingers onto the floor. He quickly followed it, landing flat on his back.

Gailan groped around for his lost blade, refusing to give up. After a moment's panicked searching his fingers found the blade. He had just grasped it when Orthok stomped down hard, pinning his hand. He looked up to see a grinning Orthok holding his blade high above his head. Gailan closed his eyes, and prepared for the end.

…

Slut was in hell. Her heart ached as she watched her love struggle desperately against the cruel Orc that had torn her from his grasp. Yet even then the insidious collar worked its dark magic, forcing her to admire the way the two warriors moved in their deadly dance. Her pussy was flooded with warm juices, and her hand seemed to move of its own accord towards the tiny nub of flesh just above her throbbing hole. She hated herself, but she was powerless to resist the urges of the collar.

Slut gave a cry when she saw Orthok's blow knock Gailan off his feet. She closed her eyes, and silently said goodbye to the love of her life.

No.

She would not allow this to happen. She didn't know if there was anything she could do to help him, but she would not surrender Gailan without a fight.

Jaida cast her eyes around desperately, searching for something to give Gailan the opening he so sorely needed. Suddenly, her eyes fell upon a small ivory figurine standing on the armrest of Orthok's throne. She knew immediately that it was the figurine that controlled her collar.

A quick glance at the battle revealed her worst fears. Gailan lay helpless as the Orc chief prepared to end his life. She forced herself to ignore the sight, and focus on the task at hand. Jaida shoved at the Orc standing next to her. The guard was not expecting her attack, and fell backwards, cursing. She wasted no time, launching herself at the throne.

Jaida reached out for the figurine, only to be stopped less than an inch away by a blinding wave of pain. It felt as though millions of fire ants were crawling along every inch of her, biting again and again. The pain was excruciating, and she fought the urge to black out. Grimly, she exerted all of her mental force against the barrier of pain.

The struggle went on for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality only a few seconds. Finally, with a grunt of pure determination her hand closed around the obscene ivory figurine. She raised it high above her head, and in a voice much stronger than she felt called out, "Orthok!"

…

"Orthok!"

Gailan heard the voice of his love call out, and his eyes snapped open. He turned his head just in time to see Jaida smash the statue onto the ground. The statue shattered, and Jaida let out an agonized shriek as the collar around her grew red hot and began to shoot out angry red sparks.

Orthok let out a bellow of rage, and Gailan felt the pressure on his hand lessen. He immediately seized the opportunity Jaida had given him, and he swung his other hand into the orc's massive knee as hard as he could. There was a sharp cracking sound, and Orthok's scream turned into one of pain. Suddenly, the pressure on his hand went away entirely.

Gripping his sword in a hand that screamed at him, he snapped it up, and thrust it upwards into the torso of the orc chief. The blade entered just above the startled orcs stomach, and exited with a spray of blood right below his neck. The look Orthok gave him then was one he never forgot. It wasn't anger, or fear, but simple dumb surprise. It was as if for all the deaths he had caused it had never occurred to him that he might meet the same end.

The huge great sword tumbled out of nerveless fingers, and the great beast fell backwards. With a final gurgling breath Orthok, son of Thrall, chief of Crossroads, and heir to the throne of the horde, died.

A profound silence fell over the throne room. For an instant, no one knew what to do. Then, bellowing screams of rage, the circling orcs converged on him. Gailan smiled, content with the way things had turned out. He would die happy.

"Hold!" a loud voice cried out, "stop where you are." The confused orcs stopped, looking around. They turned to see Grobb standing on top of the throne. "As senior member of the guard I am now the ruler of Crossroads, and as my first order I'm telling all of you that no one is to harm these humans." The orcs looked furious, but held there ground. "You there, Gailan, I assume you wish to take your woman with you back to your homelands?"

Gailan nodded, stunned to silence.

"Very well. At first light tomorrow my men will escort you to the town of Ratchet. From there you can catch a boat back to alliance territory."

Gailan knew that he should simply count himself lucky, but despite himself he asked, "Why are you doing this for us?"

Grobb smiled down at him. "You may not realize it, but today you have done a great service to the Horde. Orthok was not fit to rule the Horde, and out of his leadership could come only death. In exchange for this service I'm granting you your life, and the life of your woman."

Jaida.

In his shock he had forgotten her. He ran to her side, pushing glowering orcs aside. She wasn't moving, and for one horrible moment he thought that all of his actions had been for nothing. Then he spotted the gentle rise and fall of her chest. There was a bright red ring on her neck where the collar had once been. As for the cursed collar itself there was no sign.

He scooped her up into his arms, and held her close. Weeping gently, he muttered "We're going home, my love, we're going home."

Chapter 16

Jaida strolled along a crowded street in Stormwind, marveling at all the sights and sounds of the bustling city. A cool breeze from the nearby sea ruffled the hem of the silken dress she was wearing. Despite herself, she found herself thinking how different the human metropolis was from the almost barbaric Orcish outpost. It seemed like ages since she had been rescued from Crossroads, although in reality it had only been a few months.

She had been unconscious nearly the entire boat ride home. Gailan had admitted to her that he had begun to fear she would never wake up. The shock to her system when the collar was removed had nearly killed her. As it was, the scarlet ring around her neck was a constant reminder of her time in captivity. The best healers of the city had been completely unsuccessful to remove it. It didn't hurt, precisely, although it did sometimes give a phantom tingle whenever Jaida became aroused.

What's worse was that she was afraid that some of the collars magic had rubbed off on her. Her sexual appetite was voracious, and despite Gailan's best efforts she often felt unfulfilled. She was eternally grateful that Gailan had risked his life to take her away from that monster Orthok, but she was ashamed to admit that there were moments when she almost wished he hadn't come for her.

Which was why she was walking along near the docks instead of sitting at home in Gailan's estate. Whenever she was home alone she found her mind would inevitably turn to the subject of sex, and she would feel a nearly irresistible desire to feel the pleasant stretch as a thick cock entered her, or the hot splash of cum on the back of her tongue. So far she had managed to hold the urges at bay with masturbation, but she was afraid that if she didn't do something soon she might become unfaithful to Gailan. For this reason she had taken to spending the better part of the afternoon walking about the city. The urges weren't as bad when she was moving.

On a whim she decided to turn down a narrow alley next to a butcher's shop. She had only gone a few feet when she heard the unmistakable sounds of two people in the throws of passion. Blushing, she thought about leaving, but instead found herself creeping forward towards the noises.

As she peeked her head around a corner she found a young woman in a bright red dress bent over a stack of crates. The hem of the dress was raised up to reveal a plump round ass. Behind her, a man dressed like a sailor was pumping his cock in and out of the young woman's glistening cunt. As Jaida watched the pair she felt her own pussy getting wet, and the ring around her neck begin to tingle. Unaware of what she was doing, she began to massage herself through her dress.

After a few minutes the sailor gave a shuddering groan, and then pulled his penis out of the young woman. Thin strands of cum began to dribble from the woman's snatch. The sailor quickly stuffed his still erect cock into his trousers, and then handed the woman a few coins out of his pouch. The young woman thanked him, lowering the hem of her dress.

The pair started to walk towards her, and Jaida gave a startled yelp and ran for the exit. She blew a sigh of relief when she emerged once more onto the busy street. As she began walking again she contemplated what she had seen. The woman in red was obviously a whore. There was a time not long ago when Jaida had looked upon prostitution with utter disgust. Now she wasn't so sure.

The more she played back the scene in her head the more appealing she found it. If she began selling herself in the afternoons she would no longer have to worry about a lack of sex in her life. Besides, as long as it was just anonymous fucking it wasn't really cheating. She doubted Gailan would see it that way, but she didn't necessarily have to tell him.

Grinning broadly, Jaida headed for home.

…

For the first time in many years Milendrea Na'Kyere was afraid. No, it was more than that. What she was feeling was closer to panic. Word had gotten out about the disaster in Crossroads. The heir of the Horde dead, and the little bitch responsible fled. If the Blood Elves' position in the horde had been tenuous before, it was now near the breaking point. Everyone was looking for someone to blame, and all signs pointed at the Na'Kyere sisters.

"Hurry Laishara, we have to get out of the city. Pack only what you need, these possessions aren't worth our lives.

Her twin sister stared daggers at her. "I'm going as fast as I can, maybe if you would help me instead of…" her words ended in a startled gasp, and Milendrea saw a tiny green dart sticking out from her sister's neck. Laishara collapsed to the floor in a heap. Milendrea whirled, readying her most powerful destructive magic, when she felt a sharp prick on the side of her own neck. She tried to raise up her hand to see what it was, but arm would not obey her commands. She too collapsed to the floor.

"Well well, if it isn't the mighty Na'Kyere sisters," a darkly amused voice said. Desperately, Milendrea tried to move her eyes to see who was talking, but even they were beyond her control. It didn't matter, as a second later a Blood Elf man dressed in black leathers stepped into her field of view. Milendrea realized in horror that it was Xandar, the assassin the sisters had hired to capture the human girl.

"You two always acted so superior, as though I was nothing but vermin. I've waited for years to see the two of you brought down a peg, and I was overjoyed to be given the chance to do it. You see, Prince Sunstrider was very unhappy with certain recent events, and he sent me here to make you understand just how unhappy he is. Personally, I wanted to kill you, but the Prince had other ideas for you two." From within his cloak Xandar pulled out a pair of all too familiar collars. "Oh, but don't worry about me, to cheer me up he promised me I could have the first go at you once these beauties are in place. I understand the wearer has to be humiliated before the collar will attach. I guess we have our work cut out for us, don't we?" He grinned down at her them malicious glee.