The Lady is a DrunkbyDireLilith©
The elven warlock was drunk. Again. From his vantage point across the bear skinned rug from her, the old orc soldier could see the cross-eyed gaze and glazed over eyes. The young woman's platinum hair was tossing around as she swung her head in exaggerated drunken laughter. At this point, anything he said sent her into fits of giggles. He smiled and stroked his beard, knowing it wouldn't be long now. Soon, he knew, his guild mistress would be nearly incapacitated. And he would have to take her to her home.
He was right, it wasn't long at all before he had her unconscious form slung over his shoulder and he was making his way through the civilized streets of the floating mage city to the portals that would take him to his lady's own elven-made city in the eastern kingdoms. He stepped into the glowing portal, felt the cool flicker of magick enveloping him and his lightweight companion, then he was stepping onto the lush red carpets of the noble's quarter. The limp form over his shoulder didn't stir as he moved down the sloping ramp and into the more civilian areas of the city.
The old orc looked around him as he walked slowly over the white marble stones. His gait was an almost awkward-seeming waddle, belying his true skills as a mercenary and killer. His arms were typical for an orc, thick and longer than other more upright races such as the elves he typically fought next to. His skin was a dark shade of grayish green, and was riddled with scars under his stiff dark leather and plate armor. The top third of his head was bare of hair but a good mop of peppery white-gray fluffed up around the back of his head and came to his shoulders. He had no mustache but his beard was long, braided at the end to keep it out of his way. He was well muscled for an orc, but he was also more aged than other orcs he had yet seen since his rebirth.
Many, many years ago, the orc had died in service to his lord and king. After his death as a hero, he had been reawakened and put into service under a lord of Death and Destruction. Only recently had he and many others in that very army been released from nearly mindless servitude and allowed to come 'home', as it were. But things had changed, and his people had changed. Though he didn't feel as unwelcome as he had originally, he still felt awkward and uncomfortable, as if he didn't really belong. As if this wasn't truly his home anymore, this land of the living. And the orcs he knew were all so young, ignorant. Innocent even.
As he made his way through some of the darker streets of the town, he hefted the girl over his shoulder more, adjusting her there. Soon he was making his way across the public bazaar and up the steps to one of the general goods stores that the city had. A small ramp lead up along one curved wall of the building, to a platform supported by stone at the back of the store. The platform was small, circular, and contained a bed and a table, nothing more. The table had a few personal items on it, making it obvious that this was his guild mistress's home; silver brush and matching hand mirror, a pearl necklace and some miscellaneous magickal items were scattered on the table top. The bed itself was a round mattress in a hidden frame, with blue sheets and blankets. Sheer blue curtains were attached to a single point in the ceiling above the bed, and draped down on all sides of the curved frame except for the foot of the bed. The platform itself was separated from the rest of the quiet store by pink sheers hung from golden hooks in the ceiling; there was not much privacy here but at this hour, no one else was around and the city was quite deserted.
The orc bent over and dropped his lady onto the mattress, where she flopped awkwardly onto her side. She was sprawled with limbs and clothing in disarray, and as he looked down at her, he pondered her vulnerability. Anyone could walk in right now and take full advantage of her in this condition. Her stiff leather dress would only serve to cover her so much. And she hadn't even changed her breathing as he had dropped her to the bed. She was completely unconscious.
He rubbed his chin and tugged on his beard braid. His two tusks, jutting out from his bottom lip, did nothing to diminish the wicked grin that slowly cut his face in the darkness. And he slowly began to remove his own armor, piece by piece, dropping them loudly to the floor as if to see if this would wake her. She did not stir.
As he stared down at her, unfastening the bindings on his breastplate and unbuckling his belt, he took in the rare beauty before him. Her hair was the colour of pale silken ribbons, or snow gleaming with a sheen of gold from a wintry setting sun. Her skin was like smooth freshly churned butter, almost a pure ivory white in colour. She kept her lips painted red, and some thought they were more stained from wine than from her custom-made lip rouge. Her eyes were typically lined and shadowed with a kohl colour, black on the lower edge, smoky on the lid. A sultry paint job, he thought, grinning as he reached down and rolled her onto her back.
Reaching down, he found her shoes came off very easily, and he tossed them to the side. Her weapons belt was slender and of good design, sturdy but fashionable of course. He put it aside as well, slightly relieved now that she was quite defenseless. If she woke just now, she would have nothing sharp at hand, and that made him feel a bit more comfortable. He pulled her mantle off rather gruffly, then her gloves and bracers. Then he rolled her onto her side, one hand holding her there while the other fussed with the clasps to undo her cape. That too joined the growing pile on the floor. He was finding himself getting more and more clumsy as every piece of armor came off. He hadn't realized how very exciting it could be to undress an unconscious warlock of her power. And he was finding out he wasn't very patient at all.
Soon all that was left was her dress. It was a stiff material made to withstand at least the subtle blows of battle, and made to rebuff various types of magick and spell casting. The fastenings at the back of her neck were easily undone. He put a knee between her thighs and leaned over her on the bed, his thick fingers peeling the dress over her shoulders. And he gasped lightly as her white skin became more and more evident. She was so pale, like cream. He gently drew her dress down to her waist, pulling her arms free and letting them flop back to the mattress above her head. And he reached out with both hands to touch and grope at her breasts. His smile was big and broad as he relished the feel of her tits in his hands, rolling them around and around.
She still hadn't stirred or made any sort of waking noises. Part of him wondered if she was faking being asleep. Maybe she was afraid to show she was awake, for fear of what he might do then. Would he be forced to violence to keep her quiet, if she screamed in objection? Or maybe she was enjoying it. He wondered at that, wondered what he would feel if he knew somehow that she were awake. In the end he decided it didn't matter. She was as good as dead, except that she was so lovely warm in his hands. He pulled her dress lower, marveling at the rise and fall of her ribcage, the soft slope of her body down to her belly button.
Moving his mouth over her was no easy task. His tusks prevented him from actually kissing her. But nothing stopped his fat tongue from snaking out and circling each of her nipples. He watched close up as the areolas became stiff and peaked, erect. Then he used his lips to pluck at them, tug at them. And then his teeth. Experimentally, he squeezed one breast tightly in his strong grip, then opened his mouth wide and mashed as much in as possible. He was able to take a great deal of the soft breast into his mouth and lips, his teeth biting down. In her sleep, his guild mistress seemed to whimper, but was it pleasure or pain? He couldn't tell and didn't really care. The orc was far too far gone to stop now.
He reached a hand down and opened his leggings up more. Then he pulled his thick cock out and began to stroke himself. His dick was a thick wonder, surely bigger than any elven cock but also vastly fatter. He pictured what it would look like if he was fucking this beautiful elven woman, pounding into what must surely be one of the tightest pussies he'd ever seen. He couldn't remember ever having had sex before, wasn't even sure he had before tonight. But being near this unconscious and incredibly sexy woman was making it all come back; his body was remembering even if his brain couldn't. He knew what to do with what parts, knew how to please himself by using her flesh how he wanted. And right now, memory was telling him he wanted more.
It was by force that he pulled his mouth off her other breast, leaving long wet trails of slobber all over the pristine unmarked skin. With both hands he drew the dress down off her hips and down her legs, making his eyes look away from her nether regions until he was really ready. When the dress was a part of the pile of armor next to the bed, he finally let himself turn his gaze back to the sleeping beauty.
The open buildings of the city of elves were always lit, even during the nighttime hours when the merchants had gone home and the inner lights were dimmed or doused altogether. The floating planters and light braziers in the streets filtered in a soft dull and constant glow that now was coming through the pink curtains and lighting the bed up just enough for the old orc's eyes to see what was before him. He drooled uncontrollably, wiping his chin with the back of his hand slowly as he stared at his guild leader. She was sprawled so haphazardly on the bed, head turned to one side as if she had no care in the world. Her hair was fanned out above her head on the blue sheets, and her knees had collapsed to one side. He reached out with his fingers and gripped one leg, drawing her knees apart. And now his eyes took in her true treasure. Her mons was bald, hairless due to her incredibly detailed sense of fashion; indeed all the other elven women were sporting hairless pussies and so she must have one as well. Her cleft pulled itself open slightly as he pushed the leg further apart from its twin, a shadowy blush showing on her outer labia. She might be completely unconscious but some part of her brain was encouraging her body to react to his ministrations.
The elder orc knelt down at the end of the bed, his hands instinctively sliding under the unconscious woman's thighs and cupping her firm and round bottom in his palms. He lifted her up towards his questing mouth as he dipped his head lower between her legs, and soon his lips and tongue were making contact with that sweet sex. He flicked his tongue against her, telling himself he would go slowly but quickly realizing he simply couldn't. He no longer had the patience for such things, and felt like a boy again, discovering the other gender's private parts for the first time. He didn't tend to her folds like an anxious-to-please lover; instead he dove in with his tongue, forcibly finding her entry and pushing inside, tasting her deeply. He twisted and turned it inside her, thrusting it in and out, fucking her with it as his tusks mashed her labia majora aside. He devoured her pussy, gladly smearing her juices all over his cheeks and beard until he was dripping wet and practically drinking her nectar, she flowed so easily in her sleep. And he only stopped when he felt that ache in his groin again, the one that said there was to be more to tonight than just exploration of her perfect slender form.
He drew himself up off his knees, pushing his leggings down to his ankles, then kicking them off. Standing over her, slightly hunched, he gripped his cock in one hand and stroked himself as he placed his knees on the bed between hers. He wanted to make sure he was as hard as could be when he entered her. And he wanted to watch, every inch of it, as he put himself inside her for the first and probably only time. The orc put the head of his incredibly thick cock against her privacy, the folds denting in and turning dark colours as they became more and more engorged with blood. His dick was still darker than her sex, and he groaned as he released himself, the stiffness of his erection keeping him in place. He put one meaty hand on each of her shins, and bent her legs back towards her body until they were pressed hard over her tits. Then, at last, he was ready.
He felt every aching inch of his cock as he entered her. He moved as slowly as he could manage, without causing himself to cum immediately. He wanted the feeling of her pussy sucking him inside to last forever, but when he looked down and took in the sight of her sex being forced open by his cock, of his dark meat disappearing into her cunt, he almost came on the spot. He forced himself to look away, and just focus on the feeling, but his eyes were inevitably drawn back down again. Her sex was perfect, a true lady's pussy, cleaned and washed ever before his questing tongue had touched it. And now it was being violated by the impossible thickness of his cock, the cock of an old orc soldier. The idea of it was amazing to him. The feeling was so much more.
Slowly he pushed himself to the hilt, never expecting he could hit bottom. But he felt it, felt himself butting up against her womb, she was that small inside. He was buried almost to the hilt but wanted more, pushed harder until he felt her outer folds stretching against the fur of his groin. Only then did he begin to withdraw, again going as slowly as possible. He moaned loudly at feeling of her pussy pulling off his cock, and looked down just as the head of his dick fell out of her cunt. He was slickened now, completely wet, gleaming in the night light. He adjusted himself and pushed himself back inside, this time with a different intention. He was firm. He was brutal. And he forced his cock harder into her this time.
She did not wake, she did not stir, she did not even whimper. His gentle fucking became rougher, more brutal, as he leaned over her. Her legs were pinned to her chest by his weight now, his own barrel-shaped torso heavy over her tiny body as he drove his hips repeatedly against her and pulled away. He was growling, he couldn't help himself. He put one hand out to her chest, gruffly squeezing one of the jiggling white tits in his grasp, almost twisting it as he continued to thrust against her. He could feel his climax coming, and he wanted to watch if he could. He licked the side of her face, noticing how her mouth was slightly agape. Then he leaned back again, turning her so her hips were slightly twisted onto one side. One leg he draped over his shoulder, the other he wrapped around his body as he lifted her up to his cock. She was almost folded at the waist, her legs around him as he fucked her sideways. The new position offered further stimulation as he butted up against her womb again. He moved his hand down the thigh of the leg on his shoulder, slipping over her hip. Then he was cupping her ass. And then he was fingering it, mercilessly shoving a fat finger into her pucker as he fucked her harder, faster. Ruthlessly.
His cock was ready to explode. He pulled back slightly, barely managing to pull out from her body as he began to cum. Stroking himself, he poured the rest of his seed out onto her body as he dropped her legs from around him and let her tumble limply to the bed. His cum coated her tits, her stomach, her thighs, as he carelessly pointed it no where in particular, his fat fist moving up and down furiously. His head was back and his eyes were closed. And it took almost every effort he could muster to keep from howling madly. The city might be deserted looking for the most part but he knew there were always guards, always people around. He didn't want to have them come rushing in and seeing him like this. An old grayed orc man jerking off over the perfectly defiled body of an unconscious elf. That wouldn't be in his best interests at all.
The last spurts of cum shot from him, landing in puddles on her ribs and slipping down to the mattress. He panted and watched, noting that her breathing hadn't changed all this time. She was still incredibly unconscious, oblivious to what had just happened. He could almost feel himself getting hard again but knew that whatever other fantasies he might have, that were begging to be fulfilled, would have to wait. Until some other time.
Carefully he got dressed, refastening his armor over his aching body. He hadn't felt so good in so long. Sitting on the end of the bed and adjusting his shin guards over his leggings, he smiled wistfully as he glanced at her over his shoulder armor. The least he could do was cover her up, he supposed. And so he did, drawing the blankets over her cum-coated skin and shrugging.
There would be questions tomorrow, he knew. How much would she remember? She'd passed out on the rug, in his lap. And she would likely not remember about a half hour before that time. Plenty of time to fabricate a story about someone else taking advantage of her weakness. But who had seen him carry her into the city of elves, from the city of mages? Anyone? Would she dare to approach anyone when she woke up and was coated in the seed from some strange man?
Laughing, he walked down the ramp from her sleeping platform and out of the store. Who cares, ultimately, he thought. She'd be too ashamed to talk to anyone about what happened. So she'd never ask questions he'd rather no one answered. The orc waddled through the bazaar and smiled softly in the shadows as he found a room at the inn, not far away.
She was a drinker. These things happened, he thought to himself, shrugging. And if he was a lucky old orc, it would happen again.